“Does she?”
Sylvia looked puzzled.
“She told me she was nervous about you being there yesterday.”
Sylvia’s expression deepened into confusion. “Really?”
“Do you think she truly wants to be in some graduate program or is she doing it to please you?
“She’s a grown woman. She knows her own mind. Scott just told me that.”
“But she loves her mother.”
“Are you saying I manipulate her?”
Gwen clasped her hands and lowered her chin. She pursued her lips so she didn’t have to say it, but her expression did the job.
“Scott just told me that too.” Sylvia sighed. “Why didn’t you tell me I was too hard on her?”
“It wasn’t my place to interfere. I just tried to be here for Alex if she needed me.”
“She’s more like him than me, Mum.”
Gwen nodded. “And you’re more like your father then me. And you don’t remember what a good man he was, before it all changed.”
Gwen put her hands on her shoulders. “You’re a good mother, Sylvia, and Alex has lots of you in her too. You’ll know what to do.”
“I wish everyone would stop telling me that.”
Sylvia was at the window watching the people at the bus stop when Alex appeared dressed for uni.
“Hello darling, are you alright?” Sylvia held out her arms for a hug and Alex came into them. She smelled of soap and something floral and pretty, but she had dark circles under her eyes and they were red-rimmed.
“I’ll be ok, Mum. My own fault. I was stupid. I knew I didn’t love Phil, he just fit the profile, and I thought I could control things with Dan and just have some fun, but I ...” she broke off with a shrug.
“He seemed like a lovely man.”
“He’s a player, Mum, like all the men you always warned me about. I’m lucky this happened now and I didn’t let him do to me what my father did to you, to us. I know you loved him. You never got over him, did you?”
“Oh, Alex,” Sylvia sighed. “You know it’s not that simple. I was naive and silly and it was a long time ago. It’s different now. You have more choices than I had and you’re much smarter too.” She stroked a hand down Alex’s ponytail and straightened the collar on her white shirt. “You’re like him, you know.”
Alex started, jerking her head so her ponytail flicked over her shoulder. “Like him?”
“Yes. You get your determination and your cleverness from him.”
Alex dropped her eyes. “Oh, Mum. You must have hated seeing that in me.”
“No, no, no.” Sylvia grabbed Alex by the arms and looked into her daughter’s eyes. “Don’t ever think that. I love that you’re like him. You were all I had left of him. I loved you all the more for having loved him and been given you.”
“But he lied to you and he left you.”
Sylvia looked away, “I lied to him too.”
“Mum?”
“I never told him about you. He was wealthy and I knew he wouldn’t marry me, but I was frightened he’d take you away. He could give you a much better life, but I was so selfish. I never gave him the choice to do the right thing. I wanted you, whoever you turned out to be, all for myself.”
Alex stared at her, the colour washing out of her face. “You never told me. I thought he abandoned us.”
“I’m sorry. I let you think that.”
“Does Gran know?”
“I think she suspects it.”
Alex dropped down on the sofa, still made up with a sheet from Scott’s sleepover. “God! Why are you telling me this now?”
“I....” Sylvia’s voice cracked.
“Oh, Mum. Why didn’t you...”
“Tell you before?”
“No. I can understand that. I can’t believe you told me now. You found out you were pregnant after you found out he was married, right? And you wanted me, so I can understand that. What I don’t understand is why you didn’t try to move on, meet someone, to fall in love again?”
Sylvia frowned. “I did, but I guess I didn’t try too hard. You were little and Mum was so ill – she was depressed for years after Dad. She couldn’t work; we had medical bills. I just felt it would be easier if things stayed as they were. It was enough for the three of us to manage without worrying about how anyone else would fit in.”
“You had to be so brave. You must have been so lonely.”
Sylvia turned back to the window. “No. I had you and Mum got better and I had some secret admirers.”
“Really?”
“Yes. Don’t embarrass me.”
“Tell me about them?”
“None of them meant anything and I’ve spilled enough of my guts for the moment.” Sylvia pressed her knuckles into the wooden windowsill. “I always felt if I told you I might lose you. I only told you now because I want you to have a better life than me, a better life than I gave you.”
Alex came to stand at the window. She rested her head on Sylvia’s shoulder and they stood there together watching the street, seeking comfort in each other. After what felt like forever, Alex said, “I couldn’t hate you Mum. You gave me everything. A whole future of choices.”
Sylvia’s tears came, she gripped the windowsill, and tried to get control of herself. “Look, I want you to see something.” She pushed the curtain further back and pointed. “See that woman in the navy suit with the grey briefcase?” Alex nodded. “She lives around the corner and ever since we moved here, when I’m not on shift, I watch her get on the bus in the morning or get off in the evening. I liked to imagine what sort of life she had, what her job was like, what she did when she wasn’t at work, what sort of house she lived in.”
The woman stood at the bus stop; she had a newspaper under her arm.
“I’ve been watching her on and off for five years. And then when the car was off the road and Dan was fixing it that time, she sat next to me on the bus one day. I was really nervous. It was like I knew her, but I didn’t. I’d just imagined all this stuff about her.
“I used to think that could be you, with good clothing and fashionable shoes and a great job somewhere. I used to imagine this woman – her name is Elizabeth – had a family who loved her and that she enjoyed her life.”
“What happened?” Alex was intrigued.
“We rode the bus together every day for a week, even after the car was back. I used to take the bus some days just in case I could run into her. It’s ridiculous really, but I wanted to know about her. I wanted to know if she had the kind of life I wanted for you and if she was happy.”
“Mum, that’s so warped. You’re a stalker.”
“I know, but it didn’t hurt anyone.”
“So?”
“She has a great job and she loves it. But she lives alone. She’s never married. She regrets not having children and she’s terribly lonely. She goes on all these awful dates with horrible men she meets on the internet. Half the time they leave her sitting in cafés and don’t show up.”
They watched the bus arrive and Elizabeth got on and Sylvia turned to look at Alex. “I don’t want that for you. It’s not enough. If you love that boy, you should try to make it work with him.” Alex blinked in surprise, her mouth dropping open. “I never meant for you to be lonely. I never meant for you to have to choose between a career and loving a man. That’s what happened to Elizabeth. Alex, you don’t have to please me. You don’t have to be anything you don’t want. It’s your life.”
The shocked look on Alex’s face brought the tears back to Sylvia’s eyes.
“I’m not trying to please you.”
Sylvia shook her head, not convinced. “Mum said you didn’t want to work in a big company.”
“Maybe I don’t. But it’s somewhere to start. I want my own business one day. I don’t know yet what it will be, but I need to get experience. You taught me about having choices. It was a good lesson.”
“Oh Alex. What about Dan?”
Alex shrugged and turne
d away from the window as the bus pulled away from the kerb. “He screwed up.”
“You can talk to him and fix it.”
“No.” She was definitive. She started to gather books from the coffee table and pack her bag for the day.
“Why not?”
“I think I loved him, but he was a bad pick.” She slung her bag over her shoulder and regarded her mother. “He’s a mechanic. He has no ambition beyond the next wave he can surf. How long do you think it would be before we came apart anyway? He did me a favour. It doesn’t feel like that right now, and his method sucked, but it’s true. If we’d spent much longer together, it probably would’ve been me calling it off.”
“Do you really mean that? You’re not just saying it to make me happy?”
“Do I ever say things just to make you happy?”
Sylvia blew her nose on a tissue, “Oh, Alex. I don’t know. I’m confused. Maybe you do and we don’t even know it.”
“I know what I want. I want to be in charge of my own destiny. I want independence and choices. These are good things you inspired in me, and if I meet a man who fits in with what I want, then I’ll have him too. Dan’s not that man, Mum.”
“You’re sure?”
“I know it.”
“How did I get lucky enough to have a daughter as brave and smart as you?”
As they hugged, the answer whispered though Alex’s head. Sylvia had taken a risk. She was the one who was brave, but it wasn’t a lesson Alex was going to adopt. She didn’t want risk, she wanted certainty, and if certainty meant being strong now, then that’s what she needed to do.
Certainty meant men with good jobs and good suits. Men who had degrees and bank balances, prospects, and ambition. Men not the least bit like Dan.
She went to uni and lost herself in classes and when thoughts of Dan intruded she focused on how dismissive he’d been, how cold and cavalier. In the daylight, she couldn’t afford to think about the other Dan, the one she’d thought loved her in a million little ways. Who’d told her he did, in smiles and touches and words that had made her so joyful. She could only think about that Dan alone, at night, when she didn’t need to hide how much it hurt to have been so wrong about him.
54. Beached
The beach was closed, the flags removed, and the danger signs up. The surf was huge, thrashing the shore with dump after dump of chopped up foam and spume. You could hear it roar and sigh and rush in a relentlessly angry assault. Even the seagulls had gone into hiding.
Mitch knew Dan was out there because he wasn’t at work, wasn’t at home, wasn’t answering his phone, wasn’t in the café, and the empty Kombi was parked on the promenade with a half dozen parking fines under the windscreen wiper. But he couldn’t see him. It was crap surf, the waves too unpredictable, too likely to spit you out or hold you under and crack your board or drown you. It was a bad place to be.
There wasn’t much point going in after him. Dan wasn’t in a listening mood. He was in a hate-the-moon-and-everything-it-shone-on mood. No one had heard from him since the competition, since he’d dumped Alex. Belinda said Alex seemed fine, had been laughing about how she’d fallen for Dan’s caveman charms, but she was over him now. So if it was just a case of them being done, then what the stuff was wrong with Dan? This business with Jimmy was real bad, but bad and Jimmy was drink and drunk, so that wasn’t new. Maybe it was just a lethal combo punch that had him off the rails.
Mitch scanned the south end, he couldn’t see Dan, but he’d stand there till he did, till he came out. Dan didn’t have to know he was there. He used to do this sometimes when they were kids. Watch out for Dan, but never let him know he was doing it. Mitch hadn’t felt like he needed to watch out for Dan for years, but now after whatever it was that happened, watching might not be enough.
“You don’t think he’s out there, do you?” said Fluke, breaking into Mitch’s musing.
“He’s not anywhere else.”
“Shit, he’s out there in that.”
They watched the sea, grey and fierce, and Fluke fidgeted, trying the Kombi doors twice and peering in the windows, running his hand under the bottom edge of the chassis and around the tire rims looking for a spare key. He knew Jimmy had been sentenced at a preliminary hearing today. His dad had gone to court out of some old-fashioned sense of civic duty. He wondered if Dan knew. He hadn’t shown up at court. The uncles were furious. He was standing on the Kombi’s back bumper trying to work out if Jeff was asleep in there, when Ant arrived.
Ant took one look at Fluke. “You let him go out there alone.” He’d channelled kick-arse headmaster and Fluke felt like it was suddenly his fault Dan had a screw loose.
“That surf is suicidal,” said Fluke, eyes on Mitch zipping his wetsuit.
“Which would be my fucking point, you flaming idiot.”
Mitch took off down the beach, Ant after him.
“Shit.” The wind took Fluke’s curse. There was no way he could just stand there now, but he’d be the one who drowned. He grabbed his board and ploughed after them. They were already close to the shore line now, trying to work out how best to get beyond the breakers without being pummelled to death. From further back up the beach Fluke saw a surfer come up on a wave, a monster fuelled by an engine of turbulence. The surfer disappeared in the sickening swell, and reappeared a second later. The pattern repeated until Fluke was certain it was Dan and he was on his way in.
When he got to the shore, he said, “He’s out there,” and pointed in the distance. “He’s coming in.”
“You sure?” said Mitch.
“Yeah.”
“Thank Christ,” said Ant.
They waited, not saying anything, watching the sea lurch, pitch, and spasm, getting wet with the spray. When Dan finally stumbled onto the shore, he laughed at them. “Woo hoo. That was awesome.”
“What are you, ten?” snapped Ant. “There’s an awesome fucking reason the beach is closed.”
“When did you get all respectful of rules?”
“When it’s suicide to ignore them. What the fuck were you doing out there?”
“It’s called surfing, Ant.”
Fluke stepped forward to get a better look at Dan – razor action on his noggin, but not his face, gaunt, but his muscles looked cut, something funny going on with his eyes. He reeled back. “He’s using.”
“What?” Mitch looked at him as though he was the one with the problem.
“He’s using,” Fluke repeated.
“He’s not.” Mitch looked from Dan to Fluke and back again.
“I’m right here, dudes. I’m not deaf.”
“What the fuck are you on?” said Ant, rounding on Dan.
“High on life, boys. Why wouldn’t I be?”
“We could think of a few reasons,” said Mitch. “Come on, let’s go eat.”
Dan turned his back on them, took a step towards the surf. “I’m going back out.”
“You’re not,” said Mitch, stepping up beside him.
“Yeah. I am.”
“You got a death wish happening there, mate.”
“I just want to surf. I’m not asking you to come with me.”
“You’re not going out there alone again.”
“Suck it up and come with me.”
“Nah, not me. I think we’ll send Fluke.”
Dan looked at Mitch, who was biting his cheek to suppress a smile. He flicked a look back at Fluke and took in his terror. He turned his head away from them so they couldn’t see his eyes and laughed so they’d think he was ok.
“You guys finished with the hearts and flowers,” growled Ant. “I’m hungry. I’m buying. Dan, you want to do yourself in, it won’t be on my watch.”
Dan went with them up the deserted beach, the sand whipping their bodies, pitting on their wetsuits and stinging their eyes. He didn’t have a death wish, he was just cutting loose. What did it matter? He let them walk ahead. He suddenly felt incredibly tired. He wasn’t sleeping well, though that was p
robably the new diet: short on food, long on substances of abuse. He should quit that stuff, but it was serving a purpose, great long swabs of time where he was barely conscious even when he was awake.
Mitch dropped back beside him. “Where have you been all week?”
“Why?”
“You haven’t been at work.”
Dan gave him a quizzical look and Mitch said, “McMurty called me. I’m your emergency contact, remember.”
“He called me too,” called Fluke, walking backwards. “He was going ape-shit.”
Dan said nothing. Mitch said, “Are you sick?”
“No.” Though maybe he was, with one of those wasting diseases. All he wanted to do waste himself, waste time, not think or do anything that required attention to detail.
“What are you doing? How long do you think he’s going to hold your job?”
“Keep your hair on, Mitch. I don’t have to go in.”
They’d reached the Promenade now and Dan fished a key from a hidden pocket in his wetsuit and hauled the Kombi door open. Jeff yawned and smacked his tail on the floor a few times in greeting.
Mitch kept at him. “What do you mean you don’t have to go in?”
“This’ll be good.” Ant was leaning his board on the side of the Kombi and starting to peel off his wetsuit. “Holding out on us. Have you won the lottery?”
Dan sighed. He wasn’t in the mood to play games and they were going to keep ragging on him unless he told them. “I own the frigging garage. I don’t have to go in there.”
“Told you he was using,” Fluke snorted. He’d retrieved a bag from his own car and started to get changed.
“What?” said Mitch.
“I own the place.”
Mitch’s voice rang with disbelief. “You own it. Since when?”
“Two years back.”
“You bought McMurty’s business two years ago?”
“Yeah, the business and the building.”
“Shit!” said Ant. “What would that site be worth, a corner, with the old flats at the back? Fuck, Dan, that was a good move.”
“Glad you approve. Now will you get off my back?”
Mitch wasn’t letting go. “Does McMurty know?”
Grease Monkey Jive Page 34