The Good Daughter

by Amra Pajalic

  What if no one found her and she kept writhing on the ground in silence, her chest constricting? Had she lost consciousness? What if I’d killed her? What if she’d died on Kathleen’s front lawn and the police were after me for murder? I got out my mobile and called Kathleen’s house phone.

  ‘This is Melissa, Shelley’s sister,’ I said when Kathleen’s mum answered. ‘Can I talk to Shelley please?’ I made my voice high-pitched and I hoped she wouldn’t recognise me.

  ‘I’ll get her,’ Kathleen’s mum said.

  I exhaled and hung up. I wasn’t a murderer. But just as quickly my relief faded: if Shelley was alive she’d dob me in to the police. I was definitely stuffed.

  When I got home I lay in bed for the rest of day, alternating between depression and terror. I wanted to call Kathleen, but Shelley had probably given her side of the story. Anyway, this was the last nail in the coffin of our friendship.

  Frankie was supposed to be Mum’s best friend, and Kathleen mine. It was as if our life in Thornbury had been a temporary aberration: Kathleen and Frankie had resumed their lives as if we’d never existed.

  On Monday morning at school Brian and Jesse were waiting when I arrived at the oval. ‘Hello, Miss Sunshine,’ Brian sang out, buzzing like he was a battery-powered appliance. ‘It’s only six days to my paaar-ty!’ The closer it got to the party, the more obnoxious he became.

  ‘Yeah, I know.’ I was incapable of faking cheer. I’d spent the whole night awake, an invisible clock ticking away the minutes of my freedom: any minute the police would knock on my door and take me away in handcuffs.

  ‘Geez, did someone die?’ Brian asked.

  ‘I’ve got stuff going on,’ I said. ‘Can we talk tonight?’ I needed to get advice, to figure out if there was anything I could do to avoid jail.

  He frowned. ‘I’m not sure…’ He was distracted now, waving to Adnan, and then he walked off.

  I lifted my hand to my face, I was about to cry. Was I such a terrible person that I couldn’t keep any friends? I tried to wipe my cheeks discreetly so Jesse didn’t see.

  ‘Sabiha, are you all right?’ he asked.

  The sympathy in his voice was my undoing. A sob built in my chest. Not here, not now, not in front of Jesse. I ran for the toilet blocks. I’d rather be a coward than be pathetic. I got as far as the Arts class doorway before I crumpled and covered my face in my hands and wept.

  Something dropped to the ground next to me. I peered through my fingertips and saw it was my backpack. I was pulled to my feet and Jesse held me.

  ‘It’ll be all right,’ he murmured, his hands rubbing my back.

  Our cheeks were pressed together and his stubble scraped my skin. I’d always thought he was chubby under his loose clothing, but now that we were cheek to cheek, I realised I was wrong—his solid build was the most soothing thing I’d felt in ages.

  I leaned back so I could breathe. He lifted his hand and brushed my hair behind my ear, before wiping a tear from under my eye. My breath caught in my chest at the tenderness of his gesture. Lately it seemed like all the people who were supposed to care about me had turned away; yet here was Jesse, whom I’d treated terribly, showing he cared with his every gesture.

  ‘Tell me what’s wrong.’ He reached into his pocket and passed me a hankie.

  ‘I’m going to jail,’ I wailed as I blew into his hankie.

  ‘What the...? Start from the beginning,’ Jesse commanded.

  I blurted my story.

  ‘I don’t think you have anything to worry about,’ Jesse said.

  ‘Haven’t you listened to what I just told you?’

  ‘Sabiha.’ Jesse put his hands on my shoulders, forcing me to look at him. ‘If she goes to the police then it will come out that her cousins bashed you.’

  ‘Oh…’

  ‘See…’ Jesse stroked my arm. ‘I told you everything would be all right.’

  I shook my head, remembering my original problem. ‘No, it’s not.’ I avoided his gaze. ‘My Mum’s getting sick again.’ I was on the edge of tears again.

  Jesse reached over and took my hand in his. ‘What’s wrong with your Mum?’ he asked.

  By the time I’d told him everything, the bell had rung. ‘Are you okay to go to class?’ he asked.

  I nodded.

  When the bell rang for recess, Jesse walked me to my locker and Brian followed. After we swapped our books, Jesse took my arm and led me down the corridor. ‘Aren’t you coming to the oval?’ Brian asked.

  ‘Not today,’ Jesse said, without breaking his stride. We sat under the elm tree and I told him the rest of my drama. As I talked and talked, Jesse’s blue eyes met mine, his attention never wavering. Nobody looked at me like that and it was intoxicating. He made me feel like I mattered. ‘I’ll see you in History,’ he said as we went our separate ways for third period.

  I had Science with Gemma and Dina. ‘Are you and Jesse going out?’ Dina asked, as I sat on the seat that she’d saved for me.

  ‘No.’ I pulled my notebook out of my backpack. ‘As if. He’s just a good listener.’

  ‘What’s going on with you two?’ Gemma leaned over Dina to talk to me.

  ‘Nothing,’ I said pointedly.

  Dina and Gemma were curious and usually I enjoyed tormenting them, but all I wanted now was for them to leave me alone.

  We all ambled to the oval at lunchtime, but our huddle was out of whack.

  ‘What’s with you and Jesse?’ Brian asked.

  ‘He’s being a friend.’

  ‘Looks to me like he’s more than a friend.’ His tone was snide. His eyes shifted. I’d lost his attention and I knew without looking behind me that Adnan was approaching.

  ‘Not that you’d know what a friend acted like.’ My voice was full of sarcasm.

  ‘What do you mean?’ Now Brian was defensive.

  ‘Maybe if you stopped being so impressed with Adnan you’d know,’ I said. Brian looked shocked. I moved away from him and went to stand by Jesse.

  When I arrived at school on Tuesday, Jesse was waiting for me by the bike rack. ‘I talked to my sister about your mum.’

  ‘Why?’ I asked.

  ‘Sarah’s a nurse and I thought she might be able to give us advice about what to do.’ He handed me a few sheets of paper. ‘You need to read it.’

  The heading on the first page was ‘Symptoms of Bipolar Disorder.’ I stood reading the handout and he waited next to me. When I finished a few minutes later, I gaped at Jesse in wonder. ‘This description fits Mum to a T,’ I exclaimed. ‘I’ve always known the name of her illness but I’ve never really understood it.’ I sat on a bench next to the bike rack.

  ‘Now I can see there were signs all along. She did all these things.’ I read from the paper: ‘Spending money recklessly, hyperactivity, high energy levels, inappropriate behaviour, mystical experiences. It’s just that we didn’t know.’

  The first clue was her hyperactivity and her staying up into the early hours of the morning cleaning the house over and over. The second clue was the way she spent money like water and bought unnecessary things. Considering what a natural tight-arse she was, any excessive spending was clearly pathological. Then there was her sudden generosity. When she was in the grip of the illness, whenever someone came to visit she’d hand them a gift, usually something we owned. Once she’d even given away her sewing machine.

  The people with a conscience would take the gift so they wouldn’t hurt her feelings, and then return it later. Those without a conscience took it with a disbelieving smile. And arseholes took her gifts and pointed out other things that would be of use to them. Once we went without a toaster and a kettle for a month until she scraped enough money to replace them. In her frenzy of spending and gift-giving Mum also forgot to pay the bills.

  Then there were the physical changes, only visible when she was too far gone. Her eyes glittered, the pupils shrinking so that the bright green of her iris glowed. Scratch marks appeared on her body: her nerves ma
de her twitchy and itchy so that she scratched herself until she bled. And she couldn’t talk. It’s like her tongue got too thick for her mouth.

  But the worst part was that when you met her eyes— there was fear. It was like there was a part of her brain still aware, but she couldn’t stop herself. Sometimes the aliens would lose control, for just a second, and I’d see my real Mum, but soon enough they repossessed her.

  I hated the way people treated her when she got sick. Most got angry and told her off, as if she could stop what she was doing. Others treated her like the village idiot and egged her on for their amusement. And there were a few who’d see beyond the alien invaders and realise that somewhere deep inside, my Mum was still there, and they’d treat her the same—like she’d had a few too many drinks at a party and they’d have to wait for her to sober up.

  And me, well I pretended there was nothing wrong. Somehow, despite all the times I’d experienced it, I closed my eyes to what was happening. I was always terrified that my life would unravel when she got sick. I couldn’t face it, so I pretended everything was okay and I closed my eyes to all the warnings, until the event that punched me awake.

  ‘Why didn’t she tell me?’ I felt betrayed. ‘If I’d known I could have watched over her.’

  ‘She probably didn’t know herself.’ Jesse sat next to me, our legs pressed together. ‘Sarah told me that a lot of people who come from overseas don’t know how to translate the medical jargon. She’s included contact details for the CATT team.’

  Jesse flipped the handout to the last page. ‘You know, the Crisis Assessment Treatment Team, that professionals or family members can call in an emergency.’

  ‘I don’t think I need that. Mum seems to be taking her medication again.’ I’d been checking it every day and there wasn’t a miss since Dido and I had talked to her. Calling the CATT team would be dobbing Mum into the authorities. I couldn’t betray her like that.

  ‘Okay…’ Jesse folded the handout and returned it me. ‘It’s there if you do need it.’ As I took it, our hands touched.

  ‘I can’t believe you did this.’ I was embarrassed as I remembered all the things he’d done for me, and yet I’d given him nothing. I held his hand.

  ‘That’s what friends do,’ Jesse said, gripping my hand.

  His eyes telegraphed that he wanted more than friendship. Gratitude overwhelmed me. I leaned in. Jesse’s eyes widened.

  the secret life of wonder woman

  ‘Hey, lovebirds,’ Brian called out as he approached. He caught sight of the paper in my hands and snatched it. ‘What’s this?’

  I grabbed the pamphlet back. ‘What do you care?’

  ‘Of course I care,’ Brian said. ‘We’re friends.’

  ‘Yeah, right,’ I muttered.

  ‘Sabiha, what’s going on?’ Brian asked.

  ‘If you were a real friend you wouldn’t have to ask that question,’ I shot back.

  ‘What does that mean?’ Brian demanded. ‘I am a real friend.’

  ‘A real friend cares about what’s going in your life,’ I gestured at Jesse. ‘A real friend doesn’t dump you as soon as something better comes along.’

  ‘A real friend would understand that you have a life and can’t be at their beck and call twenty-four seven,’ Brian said.

  ‘A real friend would sense when you’re in need.’ I stood and we were facing off.

  ‘A real friend would tell you something was going on instead of taking pot-shots,’ Brian shouted.

  ‘Enough.’ Jesse stood between us.

  ‘He’s the one who—’

  ‘She—’ Brian and I spoke over each other.

  ‘Cool it!’ Jesse shouted. ‘Brian, we’ve been friends a long time.’ Jesse placed his hand on Brian’s chest. ‘You do sometimes get caught up in new things and forget about everyone else.’

  Brian stared at the ground and kicked a pebble with his shoe.

  Jesse turned to face me. ‘And Sabiha, you can’t expect people to guess when something is wrong. You have to tell them.’

  ‘I guess,’ I said, chastened.

  ‘Now are you two making up?’ Jesse asked as he looked from one to the other.

  Brian made a face.

  I sucked in my lips to stop a smile.

  ‘All right, Dad.’ Brian grabbed Jesse in a hug.

  ‘Get off me!’ Jesse tried to push Brian’s arms away. Watching them grapple I burst into laughter and grabbed hold of Jesse’s arm. Brian threw his arm around me and pulled me in so that I was between him and Jesse. Jesse laughed, his chest against my back while Brian was pressed up against my front.

  ‘Oooh, an orgy,’ Dina said as she and Gemma came around the corner, Adnan following.

  ‘We need one more girl for this orgy!’ Brian grabbed Dina’s arm and pulled her into the circle. We laughed at Dina’s struggles as Brian tried to pash her. Our laughter was infectious and Dina started up too.

  ‘Let her go!’ Gemma beat her hands against Brian’s back.

  ‘There’s room for you too.’ Brian turned to Gemma.

  ‘Yuck,’ Gemma exclaimed as she stopped hitting him.

  The bell rang and we all moved away from each other, suddenly self-conscious, straightening our clothing as we headed to class.

  Brian walked beside me. ‘I’m sorry for not being there for you,’ he said.

  ‘It’s okay.’ I felt lighter than I had in days.

  ‘I’ll call you tonight,’ Brian said. ‘Cross my heart.’

  Brian kept his promise and I brought him up to speed over the phone with everything that had happened.

  ‘That’s some heavy shit,’ he said when I’d finished.

  ‘Yes, it is.’ I was lying on my bed staring at the ceiling.

  ‘How are you feeling now?’ he asked.

  ‘Better. I think Mum’s getting better.’

  ‘And it’s definitely over with Kathleen?’

  ‘Definitely. Shelley would have told Kathleen her version of our fight—with me as the villain.’

  ‘I agree with Jesse,’ Brian said. ‘Shelley won’t go to the cops because it would expose her cousins.’

  ‘Yeah, I s’pose…’ I’d been thinking about it: Shelley and I were at a stalemate. Now that I knew it was her cousins who had bashed me I felt like pressing charges to get Shelley in the shit, but then she could press charges against me.

  ‘Sounds like you’re better off without either of them in your life. That whole threesome thing sounds toxic.’

  ‘Mmm,’ I murmured, wondering if there was a secret Jesse and I shared, that Brian wasn’t privy to. But I had to assume that my new threesome was a whole lot better than my old one, or else I was truly the worst judge of character ever.

  ‘The great thing is you’ve got the party to look forward to,’ Brian announced triumphantly. ‘Only four more sleeps.’

  ‘Fifteen minutes.’ I looked at the clock.

  ‘Fifteen minutes for what?’ Brian was confused.

  ‘You lasted fifteen minutes before bringing up the party.’

  ‘Wasn’t it time to shift the conversation from this depressing shit to something fun? Of course, I’m happy to keep talking about your mum—’

  ‘No, no,’ I interrupted him.

  ‘If you’re sure…’ Barely leashed excitement crept into his rising intonation.

  ‘I am.’ I needed something to look forward to.

  ‘Okay, I’m picking up our costumes tomorrow.’ I couldn’t dress at home because Dina and I were faking a sleepover at each other’s house, so Brian was keeping my costume at his place. I just hoped things weren’t getting too complicated…

  The rest of the week flew by. The gang hung around together at school and all our conversations were about the party. On Saturday I caught a bus to Brian’s house.

  ‘Sabiha.’ He looked surprised when he opened the front door. ‘You’re early.’

  I tapped my watch. ‘It’s five o’clock.’

  ‘Already?’ Brian lifted m
y wrist and checked the time. ‘You can get dressed in my parents’ bedroom.’

  A man walked up the footpath behind me. ‘Here!’ He tossed bags of ice to Brian, who introduced me to his brother Greg.

  ‘Sorry, it’s a bit crazy right now,’ Brian said as he carried the bags to the kitchen. ‘Go get ready.’

  I walked hesitantly down the hall and into his parents’ bedroom. I sat on the bed—the one I’d be sleeping in tonight. My costume was hanging on the door. I took out my make-up from the backpack.

  After twenty minutes of applying cosmetics, I examined myself in the mirror and smiled. With my dark hair, light eyes and red lipstick I made a respectable Wonder Woman.

  I was way ahead of schedule. I’d allowed two hours for getting ready, forgetting that it usually took at least that long because Kathleen and I would do each other’s hair and makeup, giggling and carrying on as we planned our night.

  ‘Enough already,’ I grumbled as I sorted my bag. That phase of my life was over. I found Brian in the bathroom putting beer in the half-full bathtub. ‘What do you think?’ I crossed my arms in the Wonder Woman signal.

  Someone whistled behind me. I spun around. Greg had appeared holding a slab of beer. ‘You look amazing.’ His eyes were on my chest.

  My costume was probably a size too small and the corset top pushed my breasts up so they nearly hit my chin. ‘Thanks.’ I crossed my arms over my bulging boobs.

  Brian took the box from Greg. ‘Get out of here.’ He slapped him on the back.

  ‘Do you think it’s too much?’ I asked.

  ‘You’re supposed to be Wonder Woman.’ Brian sat on the edge of the bathtub and dropped the beer cans in the icy water. ‘There’s no such thing as too much.’

  ‘What do you want me to do?’

  ‘All done.’ He crushed the empty box. ‘My turn to get ready now.’

  I followed him to the bedroom. He closed the door and reached for his fly. I turned away.

  ‘Actually,’ Brian said over the rasp of his zipper. ‘Do you reckon you could go round and see how Jesse’s doing? He should be here by now. I bet he’s freaking out.’