Dessi's Romance

by Goldie Alexander

  Mr Malouf’s angry face flickers through my mind. I defy it to cry, ‘We’re both Aussies, aren’t we?’

  ‘Course you are. But you’ve been bought up here and Abdul’s family is Lebanese. No matter how Aussie he might think he is, he’s split between two cultures. Relationships, even those from a similar background are hard enough to maintain. Imagine what extra tension this will add to yours.’

  ‘You mean like you and Dad?’

  She flushes. ‘Right now we’re under a lot of strain. But yes, that’s exactly what I mean.’

  ‘You’re not going to split, are you?’

  Startled, she looks up. ‘What makes you think that?’

  ‘You never stop fighting.’

  ‘We’ve a lot on our plate. Still, we’re not planning a divorce...’ She gives me a wry smile, ‘Least…not yet.’

  But only yesterday I overheard her say, ‘If things are so tight, why didn’t you wait till next year?’

  ‘I keep telling you,’ Graham replied. ‘That way I got paid out best.’

  ‘But if we aren’t ready financially...’

  ‘We can, if we cut our expenses. Live very simply.’

  Hannah’s voice rose in exasperation. ‘We still have to eat. And there’s Jeremy’s school and Dessi’s HEC fees.’

  ‘Once we sell this house, things’ll be easier.’

  ‘All this effort and mess. You don’t even know if you’ll get your money back. Why can’t we sell this house as it is?’

  ‘Because renovated, we’ll double the profit.’ And suddenly calm, peace-loving Graham lost his cool. ‘Look,’ he yelled. ‘If you don’t like it, you can always leave…’

  I wake up Hannah is saying, ‘...what about Abdul’s family. You sure they’re happy?’

  This being too close for comfort, I whine, ‘Why can’t you ever approve of what I do?’

  She shrugs. ‘As your mother, I feel I should be offering you advice.’

  ‘But I don’t want anyone’s advice,’ I moan. ‘I just want you to understand me.’

  She comes over to wrap her arms around me. ‘This conversation reminds me of when I first told your grandfather that I was marrying your father. He nearly had a fit. How could I even consider marrying someone so much older?’

  ‘That’s terrible when Dad’s so nice.’

  Outside the window, a gust of wind shakes the bushes and rattles the doors as if past ghosts – Abdul’s? Mine? – demand some say in this affair as well.

  She sends me to bed. But then I dream about being shipwrecked, icy water entering my throat and lungs. The sensation of being dragged down by powerful forces over which I have no control is so overwhelming, it takes me ages to realise that it’s only a dream.

  Next morning I wake with an inexplicable memory gnawing at me. Didn’t Abdul say Antler was in Perth? Then how come he suddenly turns up here? Something feels wrong. What if Abdul is lying? But why would he do a thing like that?

  I close my eyes to relive the events of the previous night. I’m so in love, I can’t believe that this is real. When I think about all that’s happened to me in less than a week, I can only see my life as before Abdul and after. It’s as if an emotional earthquake or tsunami has overtaken me. Surely a love like ours must last forever.

  But what if it doesn’t?

  In the clear light of day, I’m forced to admit that there’s too much I don’t understand. How torn is Abdul between being an Aussie and his family’s expectations? Surely being a third year uni-student and running a business makes him totally independent. But what if he isn’t? It’s hard to ignore how different he is within his own family. Hard to ignore how much they dislike him taking me out. What with deceiving my best friend and moving into another culture, there’s so much against me, it should act as a turn-off. But in a weird way, all those negatives involve me even more. Does Abdul feel the same? What will I do if he doesn’t?

  Underlying all this is my permanent concern about Emma. But what kind of friend am I? How can I keep on pretending that cheating doesn’t turn my friendship into a fraud? How often have we heard about other best friends splitting? How often have we congratulated ourselves that we’re much too close to ever let anything come between us? I can’t get Emma’s sketches of knives sticking out of starving hollow-eyed children out of my mind. I can’t get away from the idea that if Emma finds out Abdul has dumped her, that she might do something unforgivable. Then it will be my fault. As Hannah did remind me, I could always have tried to ignore the attraction.

  No, of course I couldn’t. When you fall in love, it’s mostly because you can’t help it. Love may make your pulse race, make you long for the loved one, but it also does weird things to your brain...

  My love, you are

  the food I eat

  the liquid I swallow

  the air I breathe

  the life within me.

  My watch says 11.40 a.m. I clamber out of bed and hop down the passage. The shed is like the inside of an oven. A hot and sweaty Graham glances around as I come in. ‘Doing your exercises?’

  ‘Course,’ I lie. ‘Anyway, got physio this afternoon.’

  ‘Hmm’ he grunts, and I can see him mentally add ‘drive Dessi to physio’ to his timetable.

  ‘What are you making?’

  ‘Bathroom cupboards.’

  ‘Thought you were buying them.’

  ‘I was. Then I checked out the price.’

  I watch him measure a plank of wood, then slowly and carefully mark it in several places with a thick pencil.

  ‘Where’s that bit going?’

  ‘This? Ensuite.’

  ‘Won’t that make the main bedroom too small?’

  ‘Not really. I aim to sneak in part of the second bedroom.’

  ‘Wonder whose room it was,’ I muse.

  He looks up from measuring a fresh plank. ‘Great-aunt Lilbet’s.’

  ‘Where did Ella sleep?’

  ‘In your room. That’s where she ran her dressmaking business. Those two were always so busy. They kept a vegetable garden, fruit trees and chooks. But whenever I turned up, they always found time for a round of cricket. Suppose I was their substitute child. When they went into the nursing home we had to rent this house to pay their expenses. Though they didn’t much like it there, at least they still had each other. From what I can gather they kept nothing secret from each other. One of their favourite sayings was: ‘The truth never hurts.’

  I look away. Somehow the idea of two women being so close for eight decades is incredibly uncomfortable. I can’t help comparing that with Emma and myself. But I’d lay odds that those women never had a guy they both loved as much as I love Abdul.

  36. EMMA, Surfers & Melbourne

  The night before flying home, I’m convinced that I’ll never, ever manage to sleep again. If only I could dance away from reality like Chagall’s young Lovers… Thinking this, I go out like a light.

  Next morning Sacha comes into my room after I’ve packed and waiting for Laura to pick me up. I might have come to dislike Laura, but it seems only fair to explain why I’m leaving so unexpectedly.

  Sacha’s face shows his distress and I can’t help feeling horrid. Of course he will be upset at feeling rejected. Of course he’ll think it’s all to do with him, when in reality, it’s all to do with me. I’m still keen on Abdul. Yet for someone who can recall fine detail in so many paintings, I find it absurdly difficult to picture Abdul’s features. That’s because we’ve seen too little of each other, I remind myself. All this will change when I’m home, and I’ll also be with Dessi and not feel this desolate.

  ‘Do you want me to go to the airport with you?’ Sacha asks.

  ‘I guess my dad’ll take me.’

  He nods dejectedly. ‘So, there’s nothing I can do.’

  ‘Actually, there is. Are the others awake yet?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Could you tell them for me? You know, about having to go back?’

  He frowns
slightly. ‘You want me to tell them about your mum?’

  I shake my head. ‘Just say she’s sick.’

  ‘Okay. I’ll phone you. Look...we can still be friends…can’t we?’

  I know a sudden rush of affection. My rejection is so not his fault. But no wonder he’s insecure. ‘Sure we can,’ I say quickly, and he rushes over to hug me, and the hug feels good. Warm. Comforting.

  Ten minutes later I’m in the jeep with Laura and we’re heading for Dad’s place. ‘This is a bit sudden, isn’t it Emma?’ Laura says coolly. ‘What’s going on?’

  I don’t want to talk to Laura about Mum. ‘You know, uni forms to fill in…’ Even to me, this sounds unconvincing.

  ‘Well,’ she drawls. ‘You’re lucky to catch your father still at home. He’s got a lunchtime cruise.’

  I find Robert in the sunroom with papers spread over the table. He looks around as I walk in. ‘What’s up, Em?’

  ‘I need to talk to you, Dad.’

  Laura pulls up a chair.

  ‘Um… ah... Dad.’ My gaze flickers. ‘In private.’ I sit tight, waiting.

  He turns to Laura to ask, ‘Would you mind very much, darl?’

  Laura’s glance might display intense curiosity, but she does stand up and leave.

  Dad turns to me. ‘So... What’s up?’

  ‘Mum just phoned to tell me she’s been diagnosed with cancer,’ I say abruptly. ‘Breast cancer.’

  Robert’s face closes.

  I search it for a trace of concern.

  ‘Well, that’s a shame,’ he says at last. ‘You’re quite sure? She always tended to be a bit of a hypochondriac…’

  ‘She’s having surgery next week.’ My voice is flat and my face feels frozen. He stares out at the patio. I have no idea what is going through his mind. ‘Don’t you care?’ I demand. ‘Don’t you have any feelings left for her?’

  ‘Of course,’ he says slowly, ‘I’m sorry for anyone who has cancer, but it was over a long time ago between your mother and me. You know that.’

  This makes me lose it completely. How can he be so heartless? This is a woman he once loved and with whom he had a child. ‘You know what?’ I cry. ‘I think you’re a complete bastard. I can’t imagine whatever made me think I might stay up here.’ Then, to my own horror, I feel my eyes fill up.

  ‘Naturally,’ he continues in that same detached voice, ‘I’m sorry that your mother is sick. But there’s nothing I can do about it, is there? Be reasonable, Em.’

  Suddenly I realise that there’s no way he can understand how I feel. Or even begin to understand anything about me. I stand up and grab my bags. ‘Got to go.’

  He frowns slightly. ‘I can’t leave right now, got to be at the boat in half an hour. Laura will drive you to the airport.’

  I can hardly believe that his business is more important than his only daughter. ‘You know something, Dad,’ I cry. ‘I never want to see you again.’

  He sighs, gets out of his chair and moves towards me.

  ‘The offer’s still open.’ He gestures towards my bedroom area. ‘You’re always welcome here. I want you to know that.’

  But I’m already at the front door. Laura has already fired the Jeep. As we travel to the airport, she must sense something’s seriously wrong because she doesn’t try any small talk. I recover in time to thank her and am rewarded by a smile and a wave.

  I don’t look around. In just over two hours, I’ll be home with Julie.

  When I land at Tullamarine, Mum is waiting, her face as grey as porridge. We fall into each other’s arms. When she finally draws back, more tears fill my eyes. She says, ‘I’m so glad you’re back.’

  ‘Me too, Mum. How…how do you feel?’

  She tries to laugh. ‘I’ve felt better in my time. Let’s go home.’ And of course it is home. When I step into the living room, I realise how attached I am to this untidy falling down house and how much I love my mum.

  Myrtle strolls out of the laundry, dragging Chagall by the scruff of his neck and plonks him at my feet. Then she gets the other two kittens. I gather them up and prop on the couch for a cuddle. ‘Hey, guys! Aren’t you pretty?’

  Julie sits beside me. ‘I’ve been letting them sleep in my room while you’ve been gone. I was a bit lonely.’

  My heart gives a lurch. Poor Julie having to face all this on her own. ‘You’ve told Hannah, haven’t you?’

  ‘Course I have. She was the first one…apart from you, of course.’

  ‘So Dessi would know too. Wouldn’t she?’

  Mum’s face goes blank. ‘I guess so,’ she says at last. ‘Can’t imagine Hannah not telling her.’

  ‘I better unpack. How about a coffee?’

  ‘I’ll make it,’ she says.

  I unpack and there are gifts for Dessi and Abdul. I feel rotten that I haven’t bought something for Mum. But I can make up for that when she goes into hospital. I’ll order a huge bunch of flowers. But first, I’ll talk to Dessi. Right now I need my best friend more than ever.

  37. DESSI, Melbourne

  Emma is still flying home when Julie calls Hannah. I open the back door and hoping Abdul is on the other end, hop down the passage to see who it is. Hannah reaches the phone before me. She turns to say, ‘They’ve decided to operate on Julie day after tomorrow.’

  ‘That’s awful,’ I cry. ‘Will she lose her breast?’

  ‘Depends on how serious it is.’

  I know this sounds dreadful and I’m really worried for Julie, but all I can ask is ‘When will Emma be home?’

  ‘She’ll be here this afternoon. This certainly isn’t turning into our good year,’ Hannah says morosely and walks back into the kitchen.

  I stare at my watch. Eleven-fifty. Emma must be halfway here. What should I do now? I head for the bathroom. By the time I’m presentable, Dad’s waiting to drive me to the physio.

  She isn’t pleased with me. ‘Sure you’re doing your exercises?’

  ‘Course,’ I say indignantly. But I haven’t. Since Abdul came into my life, everything’s been put on hold. Of course I collect the inevitable lecture on how there’s no point in paying a physiotherapist if I don’t follow her instructions.

  I listen with only half an ear. A broken ankle isn’t cancer. Broken ankles can heal. But everything I’ve ever heard about the big C terrifies me.

  When we return home, Mum has gone out and the answer machine is blinking. I press the button.

  ‘Hi Dessi.’ Emma sounds tired. ‘Ring me when you get in.’

  My head swims. I almost don’t know what to think except that now Emma will find out about Abdul. Do I tell her? Or is it wiser to stay silent?

  I settle in my room, close the door behind me and flop onto my bed. I don’t know what to do. I’m truly desperate. Then I must doze off because I dream Mum is saying ‘A really close friendship is like marriage without sex...’ And Dad adding ‘...truth can never hurt…’

  But does it? Can it? Will it?

  When I open my eyes, it’s as if my life, the universe, has shifted into another gear. Of course I will have to confess, even though I’m well aware that this means the danger of losing her forever. But she’s sure to find out anyway. Someone we both know will see me with Abdul. Better that she hears the truth from me. Of course she’ll be angry. She has every right to be furious. She may never want to talk to me again. But if we show how truly sorry we are and how we had no control over what’s happened, maybe she can forgive us.

  Before my courage fails, I go back into the hall and, using the landline, dial the Simpsons.

  Two rings before a very subdued ‘Hullo?’ answers the phone.

  I gulp before saying, ‘Um… er… how are you feeling?’

  Julie takes a while to consider this. ‘Bit worried.’

  ‘Will you lose that breast?’

  ‘I won’t know how serious it is till they see how deep the cancer goes.’

  ‘Shit… Well…’ I don’t what to say except, ‘Ah, best of luck, we�
��ll all be thinking of you, praying everything goes okay.’

  ‘Thanks,’ says Julie.

  There’s brief silence.

  I pull myself together. ‘Look…I need to speak with Emma.’

  ‘She’s in the shower. I’ll get her to ring you back.’

  ‘I’ll wait,’ I say firmly.

  Julie drops the receiver. I hear her call out. I hardly remember how to breathe. Someone picks up the phone. ‘Dessi, thank god it’s you…’

  Before she can continue, I say, ‘Listen Emma, I’m so sorry about Julie, and I know this isn’t the time to tell you this, but I’ve something important you should know.’ I take a deep breath. ‘You know how you were wondering if Abdul was seeing someone else? Well... he is. And that someone is me.’

  Silence… a silence that seems to go on forever. I have this suicidal desire to giggle. Finally, just when I’m sure Emma is about to hang up, I hear, ‘I thought something was wrong. I could tell from your voice...’

  ‘Anyway,’ I bravely continue. ‘I know you’ll be mad as hell. Just had to tell you so nothing’s hidden between us.’

  I hear Dad walk around the side of the house.

  ‘You see,’ I say into the hush, ‘it started off with us just being friends. Just like you suggested. Then I started having feelings for him I just couldn’t stop...’ my voice cracks.

  The hush grows into a void. A car rushes down the street.

  Silence.

  Is Emma still there? If she’s still there, I still have a chance...

  But all I now hear is the buzz of an empty line.

  I have never felt more wretched in all my life. But at least… at least I still have Abdul.

  38. EMMA, Melbourne

  Mum comes into the room, frowns and stares. ‘What’s wrong, sweetie?’

  I can’t speak. I’m in a state of total shock.

  How can Dessi do this to me?

  ‘What is it?’ She puts her hand on my shoulder. Next minute I’m in Mum’s arms sobbing my heart out.

  ‘There, there,’ she says patting me like she did when I was little. ‘Can’t be that bad, can it?’