by Rowena Mohr
No such luck! I was just getting to the part in the book where she realises that she loves Mr Knightley after all and can’t bear the thought of Harriet going out with him, when there was this soft little tap on my door and I heard Dad saying, ‘Erin? Erin? Are you in there?’ I didn’t say anything, hoping he would go away and leave me alone. There was silence for a while and I thought he must have gone but then I heard him talking softly on the other side of the door. It was like he was holding a conversation with someone else who was right there with him and I had to get really close to the door to hear what he was saying. And then I realised that he was talking to me.
‘. . . I was scared. More scared than you can imagine. How could I have got myself into such a mess? And it wasn’t just me of course – it was your mother and you and Ben too. And for years I didn’t do anything about it. I couldn’t. It was too hard, too painful for everyone. But you saw what happened – to me, to your mum. I know you probably hate me, Erin, but I just couldn’t go on pretending to be ‘‘Dave Costello – happy family man’’ anymore . . .’
So that’s his plan! He thinks if he gives me the whole big sob story that I’ll forgive him and everything will be okay. Ha! Like I’m going to fall for that one.
‘. . . Do you remember that first really big fight we had – when your mum chucked me out of the house and I stayed in a motel for a week? Well, that was when I told her.’ There was a pause and I thought I could hear him laughing blackly to himself. ‘To say that she didn’t take it well would be an understatement. But – I can’t blame her for that.’
What did he expect? That she’d just turn around and go, ‘Oh Dave, that’s great. Don’t worry about me and the kids. You just go off and enjoy your new gay life.’?
‘I was going to tell you – soon. I don’t know why I didn’t do it earlier. You were so angry about us splitting up, I guess I was scared to tell you the truth. I didn’t want you to hate me anymore than you already did . . .’ Another pause.
How does he know I hated him? What makes him think that? I never hated him, I was just . . . really, really pissed off!
‘. . . It’s probably going to take some time and I understand that. I can’t force you to forgive me.’
I waited but he didn’t say anything else although I could still hear him breathing softly through the door. And then I heard him sigh to himself and walk off down the hallway.
Saturday 10 September 6.17 pm
Dad left about three hours ago and not one person has come to see if I’m all right! You’d think maybe one of them might have stuck their head in just to make sure I hadn’t passed out on the floor from hunger or something. It is so obvious I am being punished – and in the most pathetic, juvenile way.
Saturday 10 September 7.24 pm
Mum just knocked on the door and barked, ‘Erin, your dinner’s on the table. You’d better come and eat it since you didn’t have any lunch.’ I could practically hear the sarcasm dripping from her and pooling on the carpet outside my door but she didn’t wait for an answer, just stomped off back to the kitchen.
Saturday 10 September 8.42 pm
Well! Decided I might as well have dinner since I was absolutely starving and there it was – cold chicken pie and leftover potato salad congealing slowly on the kitchen table. Mum and Ben were watching TV, ignoring me, and Brendan was nowhere to be seen.
Was going to eat in my room since nobody seemed to care what I did, but Mum must have been spying on me out of the corner of her eagle-eye because just as I went to pick up the plate she snapped, ‘Don’t you even think about taking that back to your room. You’ve spent quite enough time in there today as it is. You sit right there and eat it where I can see you.’
Witch! So just to keep her happy I sat down and started eating and then Brendan comes out of Ben’s room with some books and papers and stuff and sits opposite me at the table to do his homework. He didn’t say anything, just started writing and I thought that maybe he was angry with me too. But then he suddenly slid this piece of paper over the kitchen table towards me – like he was passing notes in school and didn’t want the teacher to see.
You should have talked to him.
You’ve never heard his side of the story.
I grabbed his notebook and a pen and wrote this:
Whose side are you on?
Believe it or not, yours. So what happens now? Are you just never going to talk to him again?
I didn’t say that.
So how long? A year? five years? fifteen?
I don’t know. I need some time to think.
Don’t take too long. You might regret it.
What was that supposed to mean? Like if I didn’t make up with Dad he might die and then it would be too late? Brendan was only five when his dad died. It’s not as if he would have had a lot of things he wanted to say to him. Not when he was five. But what about now? I guess maybe now there are a lot of things. Twelve years worth of things. Damn! Damn! Damn! Why is Brendan always right?
I was still thinking about that when he passed me another note.
Gee your knees are hairy.
Idiot!
Sunday 11 September 11.01 am
Mum’s still giving me the ice-queen treatment because of yesterday. Great – I could use the break.
Spent the morning mentally preparing for another week of torture and bad gay jokes. But even without that, I realised that school seems like a bit of an anti-climax with no show to look forward to. And no, it’s got nothing to do with the fact that I’m still not famous! I just wish that I hadn’t been so stupid and fighting with Rami and Brendan most of the time we were doing Dracula coz I sort of ruined it for myself. Doing what my mother would call ‘cutting off my nose to spite my face’. But not anymore. I’ve made a deal with myself that I’m going to try and be less selfish and less stupid. And I’m going to start this afternoon.
Sunday 11 September 6.57 pm
I did it. It was a bit awkward to begin with but it was worth it. First, I rang Rami. Then I asked Brendan if he wanted to go and see a movie with me. He actually seemed quite excited that I’d asked him and we caught a train into the city. We didn’t talk much on the way – not about my dad or anything like that anyway – and it wasn’t till we were almost out the front of the cinema that he spotted Rami waiting in the crowd. It took him a while to realise that I’d actually invited her too, but when he did he gave me a big soppy grin and he put an arm around both of us and we all went in together. The movie was total crap, but it didn’t matter.
Sunday 11 September 9.25 pm
Finally got to see Door Matt on Idol. Rami stayed for dinner and we all squished up on the couch to watch. Even Mum came in and sat on the edge of Brendan’s chair so she could see. She was still pissed off at me but was pretending everything was okay because we had company.
Door Matt was fantastic – again. And guess what he sang? They were having a 70s night – like they do – and Matt sang ‘You’ve Got A Friend’ – the song he was supposed to sing to me in Dracula! Isn’t that funny?
And he sang it so beautifully everyone was practically crying by the end of it. One judge WAS crying and he even got a ‘touchdown’. At the rate he’s going he might actually win this thing. Wouldn’t that be hilarious? Mandozer would just spew!
Monday 12 September 4.16 pm
Yesss! SLB is in so much trouble. I knew that sucky clean-cut exterior was too good to be true. This morning at assembly SLB’s radio station was supposed to broadcast a special live tribute to Door Matt for having got into the final twelve on Australian Idol but something went wrong and a few things quickly became apparent. Firstly, SLB’s tribute was not live because the tape or the CD or whatever got stuck on the last syllable of ‘Wilga’ so it was literally going ‘ga-ga – ga-ga-gaga-ga-ga’! Secondly, WHAM Radio would seem to have been merely a front for another of SLB’s get-rich-quick schemes because in behind the stuck CD was a strange buzzing sound and Ben saying, ‘Not a problem. For an extra f
ifty bucks I can do the cobra in full colour and I’ll throw in “Ivan 4 Marisa 4ever” for free.’
How is that for completely, totally, utterly sprung? Now I know why everyone in the school seemed to have a new tattoo and why Ben always had more cash than Donald Trump. I also know that ‘dragon’ sometimes just means dragon, so maybe I was wrong about the nature of the crime but I knew he was up to something! Mum is at the school right now talking to the Principal and I can’t wait to hear what she has to say about this one!
Monday 12 September 7.05 pm
I don’t believe this! The little suck didn’t even get suspended. There he is operating a completely illegal, unlicensed, no doubt unhygienic tattoo parlour on school property and nothing happens to him. It’s like he’s a walking get-out-of gaol-free card. It doesn’t matter what he does, nothing ever sticks! The only up-side of this whole episode is finding out that Ivan has the hots for Mandozer. How hysterical is that? And of course it was Ivan who was sending the sonnets – which he wrote himself!! Who would ever have dreamed?
Tuesday 13 September 4.43 pm
Rami rang to remind me about inviting people to her birthday party on Saturday night! (Just as well, because I’d forgotten all about it. Don’t know what sort of a party it’s going to be because not only has she invited SLB, she also told me to make sure that Mum comes and that she brings – Creepazoid!)
Wednesday 14 September 5.29 pm
Door Matt came back to school today to drum up votes for Idol – not that he needs to. He hasn’t been in the bottom three yet. He gave a mini-concert at lunchtime in the theatre and the place was packed with pre-pubescent air-heads who suddenly think he’s gorgeous just because he’s been on TV. I’m not saying he’s not hot – just that, I don’t know, to me he’ll always be Door Matt. Especially since he still seems to think that Mandozer is the most desirable woman on earth.
Of course, she is never going to look at him while people insist on treating him like he’s Robbie Williams, Daniel Johns and Jesse McCartney all rolled into one. Mandozer knows, quite rightly, that there’s only enough room for one diva in any relationship and if it’s not going to be her then she’s not interested. Not that Matt thinks of himself as a diva – quite the opposite. In fact he’s so humble and unassuming he’s practically invisible – except when he’s on stage.
Thursday 15 September 8.22 pm
Mrs Russo comes out of hospital tomorrow and I think Brendan is terrified even though he’s trying to pretend he’s not. I mean, I’m sure he’ll be glad to go home and everything but I guess he’s worried about whether she’s going to be all right this time.
Friday 16 September 8.23 am
Mum and Creepazoid have taken Brendan to pick up his mum from the hospital. I’m sort of going to miss having him around here but in some ways it will be a lot easier – for me at least. Everything was so intense while we were doing the show together, and then with his mum getting ill and the whole thing with him and Rami, it hasn’t been easy living under the same roof. But still, I will miss him!
Saturday 17 September 10.39 am
It actually feels weird not having Brendan here. I guess he’d just become a part of our family without anyone really noticing. Even SLB was moping around like he’s lost his best buddy.
Saturday 17 September 5.17 pm
Went to see Brendan and his mum this afternoon to drop off some food and stuff. Everything seemed okay except when I walked into the dining room and there was a big bare space where the piano used to be. Brendan saw me looking but neither of us said anything. Anyway, Mum and Mrs Russo went off to make tea and Brendan said he wanted to show me what he’d bought Rami for her birthday.
You know, even after all this time and my resolution about not being so selfish, I was still finding it really hard to be happy for Rami and Brendan and up until that point I’d never really thought about why that was. Oh, I know I said before that I knew Brendan was great and everything but I suddenly thought, ‘Oh my god! It’s just like Emma and Harriet and Mr Knightley!’ You know, where Emma is trying to set Harriet up with a nice guy and everything’s working out really well until Harriet decides that she likes Mr Knightley and Emma kind of goes nuts because she suddenly realises that SHE’s in love with Mr Knightley and she more or less tells Harriet to back off?
Yes, I admit it. I’m in love with Brendan. For all the good it will do me. God, I’m an idiot!
So anyway, Brendan is completely oblivious to my little moment of self-realisation and he’s rabbiting on about whether Rami’s going to like the present and all I want to do is get as far away as I possibly can and have a good cry and beat myself about the head for being so completely and utterly stupid. But I don’t. I stand there and I look at the absolutely gorgeous hand-made organza wrap that Brendan has bought for Rami and I say all the right things like, ‘I’m sure Rami will love it,’ and, ‘Rami adores that shade of pink,’ et cetera, and Brendan just beams and beams imagining Rami’s delight when she opens up his beautiful gift.
Sunday 18 September 11.13 am
I don’t even know where to begin to tell you about last night. It just seems like a whole year’s worth of stuff happened in about six hours. I still haven’t taken it all in. Either that or I’m still a bit tipsy.
Okay, first of all it was just like a normal teenage party – only one where your sucky little brother, half your teachers and a fair proportion of your school friends’ parents muscle their way onto the dance floor and stay there for most of the night instead of sitting sedately in a corner somewhere and pretending not to notice what the real teenagers are getting up to. Of course, it might have had something to do with the fact that Rami’s dad was in charge of the music and was playing all this ancient stuff that I’d never heard before but which everyone over the age of twenty (i.e. half the party) seemed to think was totally cool! Tragic.
Just as I predicted, Rami loved Brendan’s present and insisted on wearing it even though it was only about seven degrees outside. I made myself stand there and smile while she kissed him to say thank you, although I suspect that the expression on my face was more like one of the grimaces you see on those mummified bodies they dig out of peatbogs after a couple of thousand years. Especially the ones that have been sacrificed in some horrible way.
Anyway, then it was my turn. I wasn’t sure that Rami would actually ‘get’ my present, but I needn’t have worried. After she opened the envelope it took her a moment to read the card inside but finally she looked up and gave me one of her old head-split-in-half Elmo smiles – and then she threw her arms around me and gave me a big hug.
This is what the card said:
I, Erin Costello, on the significant occasion of
Rami Cabot’s sixteenth birthday, do hereby
promise to be less selfish and self-obsessed, to
take more interest in others and to be more
thoughtful and kind to children, animals and
even the freaks I go to school with.
I will also, in order to show my good faith,
undertake to volunteer at the Wilga Heights
Twilight Home for the Aged at least once a week
for a period of not less than one year.
I also promise to be a better friend in the future,
so that I can truly deserve to be called ‘best’
friend by my best friend, Rami Cabot.
Sincerely yours,
Your going-to-be-better friend,
Erin XXXX
I think it was shortly after that that Vince Cuoccolo tried to crash the party.
There was a big ruckus in the backyard and Rami’s dog Dusty was going nuts and barking her head off and we all ran out onto the deck just in time to see Vince’s head pop up over the back fence.
Vince was grinning drunkenly at us all going, ‘How’s the party, guys – mind if I drop in?’ but nobody said a word. Not because we didn’t know what to say but because what we could see – and Vince couldn’t – is DI Creep
azoid, who’d been sitting right underneath the fence smooching my mother in the garden swing, slowly standing up and turning around so that his face was about half a spit away from Vince’s. Vince got such a fright that he nearly fell off the fence but still nobody said a word. And then Creepazoid goes, ‘G’day, Vince. Does your mother know you’re out tonight?’
And we all just cracked up laughing and poor old Vince kind of dribbled down the other side of the fence and slunk away.
Everything settled down then for a while – we sang ‘Happy Birthday’ to Rami and had some champagne and cake (dolphin-shaped of course!), watched Marisa and Ivan pashing each other on the dance floor like they were trying to perfect some new kind of CPR, commiserated silently with Kerry Fennessy who sat forlornly in a corner mourning the loss of his best mate, and tried not to look when Creepazoid and Mrs Parisi decided to demonstrate ‘The Time Warp’ like some kind of Neolithic mating ritual!
And then Brendan asked me to dance.
I thought for sure he would have been dancing with Rami all night but he hadn’t danced at all, so I was doubly surprised when he came over and said, in this mock-posh kind of voice, ‘May I have the pleasure of this dance, Madam?’ Behind him I could see Mrs Russo and my mum chatting away beside the buffet and I thought for a minute that maybe Mum had put him up to it but as it turns out, I was wrong.
Anyway, there I am, slow-dancing with Brendan in what should have been the culmination of all my dreams, but instead was like some kind of refined torture. Brendan didn’t seem to notice anything, though. He started reminiscing about our first singing lesson of all things, and how, when he was trying to show me how to breathe properly, I wouldn’t let him touch me but told him to point instead.
‘You were so prickly,’ he said, laughing. ‘Like a little cactus.’