by Isla Evans
Kate waited a moment, half expecting Angie to renege, and then nodded reluctantly. After all, if this was what it took to relax Angie, then it would be worth it. Ten minutes later they had both changed; Angie into bathers, over which she wore a loose purple and pink striped singlet top, and Kate into a white T-shirt and black bike shorts. They brought along the bottle of wine, glasses and a towel each. Angie also carried her handbag.
‘What are you bringing that for?’ asked Kate, nodding towards the bag.
‘You’ll see.’
It was quite cool outside, the drumming of the rain considerably louder against the perspex roof of the enclosed area. Kate shivered. ‘You’re mad.’
Angie grinned. She folded back the spa cover and then tugged it off. Warm steam rose from the surface of the water, enhanced by the chill of the early evening. Kate hung her towel over the back of a chair and then sat down on the edge of the spa and gingerly lowered one foot into the water. It was immediately enveloped within liquid warmth. She put the other one in and then sat there, sipping her wine as she watched the ripples settle.
Angie went over to the table and started rummaging through her handbag. ‘And now for our Easter present.’
‘If it’s chocolate, I’m afraid I’ll have to pass. I couldn’t eat another thing.’
‘No, not chocolate.’ Angie’s voice bubbled with humour so Kate glanced over curiously just as her cousin held up a small plastic zip-lock bag about one-fifth full of what looked like dried oregano. She waved it from side to side. ‘Ta da!’
Kate’s mouth fell open. ‘Is that . . .? No, it can’t be.’
Angie beamed proudly. ‘Found it in Mel’s old room, at the house. How long has it been since you had any of this, hey?’
Kate was finding it hard to move beyond her amazement that Angie was standing before her waving around a zip-lock bag of marijuana. ‘I didn’t know Melissa was into . . . that.’
‘I don’t think she is, not really. Otherwise it would never have been left there.’
Kate looked at the bag dubiously. ‘How old is it?’
‘I don’t know. Couple of years, I suppose.’
‘Then how do you know it’s okay?’
Angie held the bag higher and pretended to examine it. ‘Well, it doesn’t have a use-by date so it must be fine. Come on, show some enthusiasm!’
‘Well, I’m sorry.’ Kate shook her head and started smiling. ‘It’s just that you’ve never given me weed as a gift before, so I was taken a little by surprise. I mean, most people give chocolate eggs.’
‘Huh!’ Angie removed a small packet of Tally Ho cigarette papers and some matches from her handbag and then laid everything down on the cobble-stones as if playing show and tell. ‘I even stopped off and bought these. How organised am I?’
‘Scarily organised.’ Kate put down her glass and reached for the bag, holding it up. She remembered the dull green-brown colour, but not the slightly yellow tinge. Or maybe that was her imagination. ‘Hmm. I suppose I’m game if you are.’
‘Excellent!’ Angie topped up both glasses and then lowered her feet into the water beside Kate. She pulled a cigarette paper from the packet and laid it flat on her palm.
‘Two, Ange. You need to double it.’
‘Who’s the expert then?’ Angie laughed as she extracted another one and passed them both over. ‘In that case, you can roll it.’
Kate took the papers and then joined them together before opening the little bag and removing a large pinch of marijuana. She placed this on the papers and then picked out the larger bits and flicked them back into the bag, which she placed to one side. Next she started lightly rolling the papers between her fingers, until she had a thickish cylindrical shape.
‘I’m impressed,’ commented Angie, watching with interest.
‘My misspent youth. Have you got a business card or something?’
‘Sure,’ Angie jumped up and went over to fetch her handbag.
Kate carefully licked the glued edge of the joined papers and sealed the joint. Angie sat back down and dropped the handbag, passing over a bookseller’s business card which Kate read quickly and then laughed. ‘Mary Jane Books? How appropriate!’
‘I thought so.’
Kate tore a strip across the card lengthwise and rolled the thin strip between her fingers, fashioning it into a coil that she then slipped into one of the open ends of the joint as a filter. She held up the finished product smugly. ‘Would you look at that?’
‘I always said you had a memory like an elephant,’ said Angie, passing the matches over.
‘Here goes.’ Kate held the joint in her mouth with the tips of her thumb and index finger as she lit it and inhaled deeply, the end glowing fiery red as the marijuana crackled within. The drawback shot straight down her windpipe and immediately filled her lungs to capacity. She coughed and then coughed again as smoke spewed out of her mouth and nose only to be drawn back in as she gasped helplessly.
‘So much for being impressed,’ said Angie matter-of-factly, taking the joint. She put it to her mouth and took a mild, experimental puff before taking another, slightly deeper one. ‘Mmm. Try not being so greedy.’
Kate took a gulp of wine, feeling the liquid wash away the smoky residue. She gave one last barking cough and then wiped her watery eyes. ‘Great present, Ange. What’s for next year? Arsenic?’
‘A bad workman always blames his tools.’ Angie took another drag and closed her eyes as she held the smoke. Then she expelled it gently from her nostrils.
‘Show-off.’ Kate took it from her and tried again. This time she was more restrained and felt the smoke travel sedately down to her lungs, where it wafted for a few seconds before journeying back. In a far more civilised fashion.
‘So . . . are we going to talk about it?’ asked Angie, still with her eyes closed.
‘Talk about what?’
‘You know. My mother.’
Kate turned to stare at her. ‘So you did know.’
‘In a manner of speaking.’ Angie opened her eyes again and looked at Kate. ‘But what I don’t know is why you suddenly asked Auntie Faye about her.’
Kate took another slow drag, buying some time. ‘It wasn’t exactly like that. The conversation just sort of headed in that direction. And I was curious.’
‘Very curious from what I hear.’ Angie took the joint from Kate and flicked some ash off onto the decking. ‘Do you know, it feels a bit like you went behind my back.’
‘I went behind your back! How do you think I feel, finding out you’ve known for . . . well, how long have you known, anyway?’
Angie passed the joint back over. ‘Almost thirty years, I suppose.’
Kate froze, staring at her. ‘Thirty years! But that makes it –’
‘When Dad died. That’s right.’ Angie took a sip of wine and then reached for the little zip-lock bag. ‘I’ll make another . . . whatever they’re called now. Joint? Reefer? Are you feeling high yet?’
‘Not really.’ Kate was aware of a slight buzzing sensation in her head, but didn’t think that was the marijuana. Thirty years! She sucked on the joint, this time feeling the smoke as it permeated. Her buzz expanded and she realised she wasn’t so much cross as she was curious. ‘So you went to Ballarat for Easter? To Auntie Faye’s?’
Angie shook her head. ‘Not the whole of it, just Easter Sunday. I was staying with a friend over at Bendigo but I kept thinking about something Auntie Faye said, about you, when I rang to tell her about Melissa. So I decided to pop over there and find out what was going on. You could have just asked me, you know.’
‘Okay then, I’m asking you now. Tell me about it.’
‘In a second.’ Angie slipped a badly rolled joint into the bag and put it aside. Then she took another sip of her wine and clambered down into one of the spa seats, immersing her body up to the chest.
‘Shall we turn the jets on?’ asked Kate, her hand hovering over the control panel.
‘Nah. Too noisy.’
>
Kate nodded agreeably and then took a drag before passing the last of the joint to Angie. She puffed to fire it up and then did the drawback, the end suddenly burning rapidly, right down to her finger and thumb. Angie flinched and jerked her hand back, flinging the butt into the air at the same time. It spun for a split second, sparks flying, before plummeting down into the water with a soft hiss and immediately disintegrating.
‘Pick it up!’ laughed Kate, waving her feet towards the remains through the water, which immediately separated even further.
Angie grinned, reaching out to pluck some stringy, half-burnt marijuana bits from the water. She flicked them over towards the side of the spa, a spray of droplets marking their path. One piece didn’t even come close to making it, instead falling back into the water only inches from Angie’s still raised hand.
Kate pointed at it, her laughter building. She tried to say something sarcastic but couldn’t stop laughing long enough to articulate the words. It suddenly seemed like the funniest thing she had seen for a long time.
‘Oh god,’ said Angie, wiping her eyes.
Still laughing, Kate lowered herself from the side of the spa into one of the seats by Angie. The water, which had seemed warm around her feet, was gloriously hot once more of her was immersed. Kate’s laughter finally started to falter into the occasional giggle as she let her arms float through the water. ‘Okay, now I’m hot.’
‘Who’s got tickets on themselves, then?’
Kate started to laugh again but soon petered off as she remembered what they were supposed to be talking about. She looked at Angie accusingly. ‘Your mother.’
‘My mother,’ repeated Angie. ‘But before I begin, let me just remind you that I’m not the only one who keeps things to themselves. So don’t be a hypocrite, okay?’ She paused as she glanced over at Kate’s face and then took a deep breath. ‘All right then, I’ll start from the beginning. And no interruptions.’
‘Stop procrastinating.’
‘I’m not. Although don’t you think that word sounds dirty? Like masticating,’ Angie put on a stern voice. ‘Don’t know what I’m going to do with young Johnny. If he’s not masticating, he’s procrastinating. Damn kid’s gonna go blind.’
‘You’re doing it again.’
‘Yes, but . . .’ Angie caught sight of Kate’s face and her grin faded. ‘Okay, okay, I’ll get started. Do you remember how I went up to live with Auntie Faye for a while after Dad died?’ Angie waited for Kate to nod before continuing. ‘Well, that’s when I met her. And I don’t know whether it was because Dad was dead, or whether it would have happened sooner if I’d ever stayed with Auntie Faye before. But she always used to visit us. Maybe that was Dad’s doing. I don’t know.’
‘But why didn’t you ever tell me?’
‘Let me finish. I’d been there a day or so and suddenly Auntie Faye says we’re having company for lunch. And in comes this middle-aged couple.’ Angie stopped suddenly and reached behind for her glass of wine. She took a sip and then glanced over at Kate. ‘They were so ordinary! Both short and plump and . . . just boring. I remember we had that bloody chicken and seafood soup and they both kept staring at me.’ Angie hesitated again and took another sip of wine. ‘In fairness to him, he had this weird eye thing happening, so it probably wasn’t his fault.’
‘When did they tell you?’
‘I guessed.’ Angie put her glass down again and then leant back again with a sigh. ‘For starters, even though Auntie Faye called me Angie, the woman kept calling me Angela, like she had some sort of investment in the name. Then there was this familiarity between her and Auntie Faye. More than if they were just friends. And of course there was the fact her name was Sophie. That was a bit of a giveaway. Mind you, by halfway through the lunch it was more a case of me praying that I wasn’t right.’
Kate frowned. ‘Why?’
‘Oh, a number of things. Her mainly. She hardly had a word to say for herself, sort of deferring to him instead. Calling him lover boy all the time. At one stage Auntie Faye chipped in with something or other and she said –’ Angie put on a high-pitched, babyish voice, ‘ “– Please don’t interrupt, Faye. Go ahead, lover boy.” I thought I was going to vomit.’
‘God,’ Kate grimaced. ‘But didn’t she ask about you? And your life?’
‘Not really. Oh, a little bit later on, I suppose.’
‘And what about her leaving and all that?’
Angie waved a foot gently through the water, watching the ripples expand. ‘Well, after lunch they did the big announcement and I just nodded and didn’t really say much. So Auntie Faye took him into another room and left us alone. That was the first time she really spoke to me. Asked me how I was going and what my plans were. But, do you know, I don’t think she was really that interested. She did say how sorry she was but that apparently she’d had no choice. Then she went on about what a bastard Dad’d been. Which I can tell you went down really well given he’d just died.’
‘But did she say why she married him in the first place? And not Thomas?’
‘Not really. Auntie Faye was the one who filled in the finer details for me. But do you know what? I don’t think she was really that fussed about leaving me anyway. Not particularly maternal. In fact, it may have been a relief.’
‘Oh, Ange, that’s probably –’
‘I’m not being maudlin,’ interrupted Angie, shaking her head to add sincerity. Her wet hair flipped around her face. ‘I really think that. She never had any other kids either, so she may have learnt her lesson. No, there was only room for him anyway. You should have seen her with him.’ Angie kicked her foot against the water with a little more force. ‘Then when they were leaving, he did the big magnanimous father thing and pulled out his wallet. Handed me fifty dollars and then patted me on the head. On the head!’
‘Oh, Ange.’
‘And she was all fluttery. Saying how wonderful he was and how generous. But even then she was saying it to him, not me.’
‘Fifty dollars was a hell of a lot back then,’ remarked Kate pragmatically.
‘She even said how lucky I was! Lucky!’ Angie kicked her foot out once more, this time creating a wave. The water hit the other side of the spa and then splashed back towards them. ‘My father had just died and I was lucky! Just because this one-eyed dropkick gives me fifty fucking dollars!’
Kate looked at her cousin sympathetically. ‘I’m so sorry, Ange. I just wish you’d told me. Why on earth didn’t you?’
Angie stared at the rippling water for a moment and then glanced across at Kate. ‘Let’s have the other joint.’
‘Okay.’ Kate reached to the side and extracted the second, rather lumpy joint. She lit it and passed it straight to Angie. ‘Not quite as good as mine, but here. Enjoy.’
Angie took a long drag and held the smoke down. She closed her eyes and tipped her head back until she could hold her breath no longer, then released it with a rush. ‘I found this stuff after I’d spoken to Auntie Faye yesterday. And I thought it would make it so much easier to tell you. If I was a bit high, you know. Relaxed.’
Kate glanced at Angie’s spare hand, which was clenched into a fist that was lightly punching the water on her other side. ‘Any more relaxed and you’d be scary.’
‘And you wonder why I didn’t tell you?’ Angie took another, shorter drag and passed it over. ‘Your mother was always held up as being perfect. You even named that princess doll you had after her. And the way Uncle James spoke about her was, oh, like she was amazing. My dad hardly ever spoke about mine, all I had was this mystery thing. But at least with that I could pretend she was anything.’ Angie turned and looked at Kate, her expression tight. ‘Then to find out she was just this ordinary middle-aged woman, who chose this ordinary middle-aged jerk over me . . . well, I didn’t want to tell you. Because I suppose I didn’t want it to be true.’
Kate spoke slowly. ‘You preferred the mystery.’
‘Yep. And then afterwards, when it didn’
t bother me as much, well there never seemed a reason to tell you.’
‘Hmm.’ Kate took a short puff of the joint. ‘Did you ever see her again?’
‘I’ve run into her a couple of times at Auntie Faye’s.’ Angie shrugged. ‘But I haven’t sought her out and she certainly hasn’t bothered. Which, to be honest, is a bit of a relief. I just get angry when I think about then, when I met her. I was feeling so lost after Dad died, she could have really made a difference. I suppose a psychologist would say I’ve got unresolved issues, but so what? I don’t think they affect me too badly so I’ll just stick with them.’
Kate leant back, letting this all filter through her mind. It was hard to reconcile this new image of Sophie with the one she had built up. So how much harder would it have been for Angie? She took another drag and handed the joint across. ‘At least I can help you with one thing. My mother wasn’t any princess, not by a long shot. Apparently she was a bit of a bitch.’
‘I know.’
‘You know?’
‘Well, I didn’t know. Not for certain. But Dad used to give this sort of shudder whenever her name was mentioned, and he also said once that his mother couldn’t stand her. I don’t think Auntie Faye got on with her either. So I suspected she wasn’t the angel your father made out.’
‘But it wasn’t entirely her fault, you know.’ Kate felt defensive. ‘Apparently she had a dreadful childhood. Her father was a real bastard, and her mother was a bit simple. It was pretty horrid, by all accounts.’
‘That’s terrible.’ Angie passed the joint back, as if in sympathy.
‘And my parents had to get married.’ Kate took a deep drag, feeling the smoke fill her lungs, and her head. ‘I was born in April, you know.’
‘I thought as much. Having been to every one of your birthday parties.’
‘Smart-arse. I mean they were married in January and I was born in April. You do the maths.’
‘Oh, god. Do I have to?’ Angie paused for a moment and then nodded slowly. ‘Well, well. I must say I’d never have picked Uncle James as someone who’d jump the gun. He never seemed particularly . . . well, sexual. No offence.’