by Nina Kenwood
‘I know you,’ she says.
‘No, you don’t.’
‘Yeah, I do. You’re Alex’s new girlfriend.’
Now I look at her. ‘Who told you that?’
She grins at me. ‘Oh, everyone’s talking about it.’
I feel like my eyes might bug out of my head. ‘Everyone?’
‘Well, okay, not everyone. A few people. I’m his ex. People like to keep me informed.’
‘Well, their information is not accurate.’
‘Where are you going in such a hurry?’
‘Brunswick.’
‘Need a lift?’
I look at her, to see if she’s being serious. ‘Can you drive?’
‘I wouldn’t be offering if I couldn’t.’
‘No, I mean, have you been drinking?’
‘Not a drop. I don’t drink.’
‘What, at all?’
‘Not at the moment.’
‘Do you take…anything else?’
‘I am currently one hundred per cent sober in every way and offering you a ride to Brunswick. Take it or leave it.’
I have a million anxieties about being in an enclosed space with Vanessa, but my desire to get to Lucy as fast as possible overrides all of them.
‘Yes. I’ll take it. Thank you.’
She smiles. ‘Great. This party sucks and I was so ready to leave. Owen is off his head and I can’t stand to be around him a second longer.’
Every negative thought I might have ever had about Vanessa evaporates in that moment.
She’s wearing a neon-coloured flower crown, hot pink lipstick, and a white dress that is breathtakingly short, almost see-through and I want to buy one immediately even though I would never wear it.
I follow behind her as she walks towards an old station wagon.
‘Do you need to tell anyone you’re leaving?’ I say.
‘Nope.’
She unlocks the door and I get into the passenger seat. Her car is messy, really messy, but she doesn’t seem to care.
‘Just push all that stuff out of your way,’ she says. I lift clothes, papers and a bike helmet and put them on the backseat. There is dog hair all over everything.
‘My dog sheds. A lot. Hope you’re not allergic.’
‘No, all good.’
She has a dog. She is everything I have ever dreamed of being. I am one step away from wanting to steal her identity.
As we pull away, I see Alex out of the corner of my eye, on the street, watching us drive away, his zinc-smeared face looking confused.
My phone starts ringing and his name flashes on my screen. I don’t answer and seconds later a text appears.
— Did I just see you in Vanessa’s car??????
It’s thrilling to not reply and leave him wondering. I am a woman of mystery—he cannot fathom my layers.
‘Where are we going?’ Vanessa asks.
‘Brunswick.’
‘I know, but where in Brunswick?’
‘I don’t know yet. A street in Brunswick.’
She gives me a look I pretend not to see. I dial Lucy’s number, but it rings out. ‘Shit.’
‘What?’
‘She’s not answering.’
‘Who are we talking about?’
‘Lucy. My friend. She called me, really drunk, and asked me to come get her. I know she’s somewhere in Brunswick, but that’s it.’
‘Don’t worry, finding drunk people is my specialty.’
Vanessa is a very calming presence, I decide.
‘She’s probably in a pub or something and it’s really loud,’ Vanessa continues.
‘She was outside when I spoke to her before.’
‘We’ll find her.’
‘What if she’s passed out somewhere?’
‘We’ll find her,’ she says again. Her voice is firm. I believe her.
I call Lucy again and again. She doesn’t answer, and I try to stay calm. Her phone is always on silent, she probably hasn’t even noticed it ringing.
‘So, where’s Alex?’ Vanessa asks.
‘Back at the party.’
‘I mean, why isn’t he with us?’
She’s playing the role of my knight in shining armour tonight, so the least I can do is give her some gossip on her ex. ‘We had a fight.’
‘A bad one?’
‘Pretty bad.’
‘Break-up bad?’
I look at her. My trust in her is suddenly wavering. I have no idea if Alex and I have broken up. Possibly. Probably. The words break-up might not be applicable if the words boyfriend and girlfriend haven’t yet been spoken. Whatever is a step down from break-up could be what’s happened. No longer seeing each other. Ending things. Stopping contact. Withdrawing one’s affections. Calling time.
‘Don’t make that face at me. I’m not trying to steal him back,’ she says.
‘Why did you and Alex break up?’ I ask. I know I shouldn’t. I’m breaking a rule. I haven’t even asked Alex this question, and I’m trying to get the story from his ex.
‘Oh, lots of reasons. I had a really hard time in year eleven and twelve. I went off the rails a bit, and I would push him away and then expect him to pick up the pieces when I did stupid things. We broke up and got back together so many times. And we were never going to survive once we finished school.’
She sounds more experienced at life than I’ll be at thirty.
‘But you still hang out all the time.’
‘We’ve been hanging out a bit this summer, because everyone has regressed to our high-school group. But we didn’t see each other for months this year.’
‘Do you miss him?’
‘Sometimes. Yeah.’ She shrugs.
We sit in silence. I want to ask about the cheating. I need to ask about the cheating. I shouldn’t ask about the cheating. The cheating is none of my business.
‘Did Alex cheat on you?’ I say, rushing the words out of my mouth so fast I am worried she won’t understand me.
But Vanessa turns her head as soon I say it, and the car veers a little.
‘Who told you that?’ she says, sounding surprised.
‘He did.’
‘Alex told you that?’
‘Well, Alex confirmed it, after his brother told me.’
‘Huh. Yes, he did cheat on me.’
She pauses, changes lane, curses a little under her breath at another car, and I wait.
‘But look. It was one kiss at a party, after a fight when I told him…when I said some pretty terrible things to him. Alex isn’t perfect, that’s for sure, but I wouldn’t want the cheating thing to be the only takeaway from our relationship.’
‘What else should I know?’
‘This is a weird conversation.’
‘Agreed. But what else should I know?’
‘Okay, he’s a good listener. He’ll always respect your opinion. And look after you if you drink too much. He’s fun. He’s kind. Even with the cheating thing, which broke my heart at the time, I think he’s a good person,’ she says.
‘A good person and a good boyfriend are different things though.’
‘Yes,’ she says.
We look at each other.
‘I probably shouldn’t have told you all of that,’ she says.
‘I shouldn’t have asked.’
‘Let’s agree that this conversation is in the vault.’
‘For sure.’
It takes about fifteen minutes to get to Brunswick and we’re almost there when I call Lucy again, and finally, finally, she answers.
‘Lucy.’ I am so relieved she is alive, I could cry.
‘Natalie.’ She’s sounds like she is crying.
‘What’s wrong? Are you okay?’
‘I threw up. In the gutter.’
‘I’ll be there soon. Where are you?’
‘I want to go home.’
‘I’m coming to take you home.’
‘Hurry.’
‘Tell me what street you are on.’
‘I can’
t.’
‘Yes, you can.’
‘It’s too dark. I can’t see anything. I’m all alone.’
‘Just walk to the nearest street sign and tell me what it says.’
‘I can’t. I can’t! I’m lying down. On the grass. I can’t get up.’
‘Yes, you can. I know you can.’
There’s a long silence, where I can hear nothing but her breathing, loud and rattling and uneven, and then she says, ‘Wilson Street.’
‘Great! Stay there. Don’t move.’
‘I’m going to hide behind a car.’
‘Okay, do that. Stay on the phone.’
‘I can’t, I can’t.’ She sounds near hysterical.
‘Okay. Don’t worry. We’ll be there soon.’
She hangs up then, and Vanessa looks at me.
‘She’s on Wilson Street,’ I say.
‘Great.’
I don’t mention the throwing up, because I need Vanessa to let Lucy in her car.
I call Zach again, but there’s nothing but his voicemail. I leave a very short message, telling him to meet me at my house. I don’t think I’ve ever left a voicemail message for Zach before. No one I know even listens to their voicemail, but I figure I should do it in this case.
We turn onto Wilson Street and I call Lucy, but her phone is dead now and goes to voicemail.
Vanessa slows to a crawl and I roll down my window.
‘Lucy,’ I shout out the window at every car.
‘Oh, everyone who lives on this street is going to love us,’ Vanessa says, as I shout at three or four more cars.
‘Natalie!’ Lucy’s head appears from behind a red Astra. Her makeup is smeared and she looks dishevelled.
Vanessa brakes, and I throw open the door and leap out of the car before it has completely stopped. I run to Lucy, and she immediately starts crying and lies down on the footpath. Her feet are bare.
‘I feel so horrible,’ she says. Tears are sliding down her cheeks.
I stroke her hair. ‘Can you stand up?’
‘No.’
‘Come on. Get in the car and we’ll take you home.’
‘I can’t go home.’
‘My house then. Or Zach’s.’
She makes an anguished little noise at the sound of Zach’s name.
‘Where is Zach?’ I ask her.
‘I don’t know. We had a fight.’
‘Alex and I had a fight too.’
‘And you and Zach are fighting. And Mum and I are fighting. And your parents are divorcing. Everyone in the world is fighting. I want to die.’
More tears.
‘We’re not fighting though,’ I say, patting her head.
Vanessa appears beside us, and squats down.
‘Hi Lucy, I’m Vanessa.’ She is using the same kind of voice I would use when introducing myself to a toddler.
‘I’m not going to be a lawyer,’ Lucy says in response to this introduction, and then she turns her head and retches a little.
I can’t look at Vanessa in case she says that Lucy can’t be put in her car.
‘Lucy, can you stand up?’ Vanessa asks, now using a firm, no-nonsense voice.
‘No, no, no, no,’ Lucy says in response, rolling her head from side to side.
I lean down, take hold of her arms and try to haul her up, but she yelps and flops back onto the ground.
‘Let’s carry her,’ Vanessa says. ‘She’s pretty small. You take her shoulders, I’ll grab her legs.’
‘No, no, no, no,’ Lucy moans again, as we attempt to lift her. I cradle her head and shoulders as best I can, but her bum drags along the ground as we start moving.
‘She’s dragging,’ I pant.
‘She’ll be fine,’ Vanessa says, trying to get a better grip on Lucy’s legs.
This must be what it feels like to move a dead body. Vanessa would be a pretty good partner-in-crime. Maybe she has moved a dead body before. Maybe she and Alex accidentally killed someone and they had to hide the evidence and now—
We hit the gutter and Lucy yelps as her bum whacks on the concrete.
‘Lift, lift, lift,’ Vanessa says, hauling Lucy’s legs higher. I grit my teeth and hold her shoulders up as high as I can as we stagger-walk her to the car.
Vanessa puts Lucy’s legs on the ground, opens the back door, picks them up again and we haul her up and stuff her in as gently as we can. Vanessa goes to her boot, grabs a bucket and shoves it into my hands. (Who has a bucket in their car? Vanessa must really be experienced with transporting drunk friends.)
‘Sit with her in the back and if she pukes, make sure she pukes in that.’
I really, really don’t want to, but I recognise this as my Best Friend Duty.
Vanessa gets in the driver’s seat and turns around to Lucy. ‘You’ll be home soon, you poor thing.’ The compassion in Vanessa’s eyes shames me, because I’m sitting as far from Lucy as I can and leaning over to hold the bucket in her vicinity. I shuffle across into the middle, and let Lucy snuggle up against me. I stroke her hair and she leans her head over the bucket, muttering to herself and weeping. ‘I’m so stupid. I’m so stupid.’
‘Shhhhhh,’ I say. Her hair is damp at the sides from all the tears.
‘Teachers aren’t supposed to get drunk like this,’ she cries.
‘You’re not a teacher yet, and I’m sure teachers get drunk all the time,’ I say.
‘I want to be an inspiration,’ Lucy says, and then she throws up into the bucket.
31
Show Me Your Wounds
‘Look who’s here,’ Vanessa says, as she pulls up to my house.
Lucy has fallen asleep in my lap, and I shift her head a little to turn and look out the window.
Zach and Alex are sitting on the porch steps, side by side. On any other night, the sight of the two of them waiting for me would warm my heart. Tonight, it makes me tired. I don’t have the energy for either of them.
‘Oh god,’ I say.
‘Well, you can’t hide. They’ve seen us,’ says Vanessa.
They are looking at us, their faces upturned at the same angle. In the shine of Vanessa’s headlights, they look so similar: that hair, those eyebrows, Zach’s face a softer, clean-shaven mirror of Alex’s.
‘Is your mum home?’ Vanessa asks.
‘She’s out.’ I suspect she’s on a date with Eric and not telling me. My mother might be on a date. Those words will never not sound weird to me.
Zach stands up and walks towards the car, leaving Alex on the porch steps. Vanessa gets out and folds her arms like a security guard.
‘Wait,’ she says, as Zach gets closer. She holds up a hand.
‘Where’s Lucy?’ he says.
‘In the car. But wait. Are you here to help, or to upset her further?’ Vanessa asks.
Vanessa is like a superhero. It’s the three of us against the world.
Zach shakes his head.
‘I’m not going to upset anyone. I just want to see her.’
He pokes his head in the car window. Lucy nestles her head further into my lap.
‘Natalie.’
‘Zachary.’
We stare at each other for a moment. I lean down and pick up the vomit bucket, and I hand it to him.
‘Gross,’ he says.
‘Can you empty it and rinse it out with the hose so I can give it back to Vanessa?’
‘What about Lucy?’
‘Then we’ll get her out.’
He leans his hand in and touches Lucy’s shoulder for a second, his face tender. Then he walks into my front yard and tips out the bucket and looks around for the hose, while Vanessa leans against the car and Alex remains sitting on the porch. It’s too dark to see Alex’s face, except for the glow of the zinc that is still all over his cheeks.
Zach comes back with the bucket and hands it to Vanessa, who throws it into the passenger seat of her car. She really is very relaxed about mess.
Zach sticks his head back into the backseat. ‘Now wh
at?’ he asks. He seems to have accepted that Vanessa and I are in charge of the situation.
‘Now we get her inside,’ I say.
Lucy is awake, or sort of awake. I saw her eyes flutter open and then shut again, and I can feel some tension in her body, but she’s pretending to still be asleep as Zach, Vanessa and I manoeuvre her out of the car.
‘We have to carry her,’ I say. Vanessa and I line up to take a leg each, but Zach scoops Lucy up in his arms in one quick movement.
‘You’re okay,’ Zach whispers to her, kissing her forehead, and it feels so intimate that I look away. Zach carries her towards my front door.
Alex stands up, looking alarmed. ‘Is she okay?’ he asks.
‘She’s fine,’ I say.
‘Why are you carrying her?’ Alex says to Zach.
‘She’s tired. And drunk. And a little bit sick.’ I keep answering the questions even though Alex is asking Zach.
I unlock the front door, and Zach goes in first with Lucy, followed by Vanessa. Alex hesitates at the door, glancing at me, waiting until I give him a small nod, then walks through. He’s still holding his water pistol.
Zach has put Lucy down on my bed, and we all stand around her. She looks like a little drunk angel curled on her side, and I think she has properly fallen asleep, because she is making small snoring noises. I pull my doona over her, feeling very motherly.
Zach walks into the lounge room, and Vanessa and Alex follow him, and suddenly I’m hosting a very awkward gathering.
‘Would you like something to drink?’ I say. I’m mostly speaking to Vanessa, since I’m still possibly fighting with both Alex and Zach, but no one answers me anyway. I go into the kitchen and they all follow.
‘I have, um, water?’ I say, staring into our fridge, which has three cartons of expired milk and nothing else, because Mum keeps forgetting that Dad was the one who drank all the milk and we don’t need as much anymore. I can feel all three of them behind me, silently judging the contents of our fridge, so I shut it and usher them back into the lounge room.
‘What about tea? I’ll make everyone a cup of tea,’ I say, because I need to fill the silence and also have something to do. Probably I should kick them all out. I don’t even know how Alex and Zach got here, or what they’re planning to do now.
I know how Zach drinks his tea, and Vanessa requests a green tea. Alex says nothing. I have no idea of his tea preference, and I don’t want to ask him, because I don’t want Vanessa and Zach to know that I don’t know (it feels important somehow, this basic fact about each other—of course we weren’t going to work out if we didn’t even know how to make each other a cup of tea).