by Kathryn Hind
She sat up, rubbing grit from her eyes, then wiped her hand over her mouth. Dried blood gathered in places where her lips had split. She scratched it off, setting the cuts stinging.
‘Water,’ he said, passing over a mug of it. ‘So?’
She took it and drank, moistening her lips, the taste of it tinged with blood.
‘What do you want to know?’ she said. Her insides sounded hollow as the liquid moved within her; Lucy listened, ears twitching.
‘Whatever you want to tell me.’ Sid squished right up close to Amelia so their shoulders were touching as they leaned against the wall. He shoved her gently, splashing a bit of water from the glass onto her lap.
‘I don’t know where to start,’ she said, tucking her knees to her chest. A postcard from Jugiong fell from the wall behind her; she tried to conjure the rolling hills of that place, to take herself there.
‘Right,’ he said. He reached across her and picked up the postcard, ran his thumb over the symbols she’d written. ‘You can talk to me, you know. I get that you needed to go off and be alone and whatever, but you can still tell me anything. Even if it’s about him.’
Lucy picked her way across the mattress and squeezed into the space between their thighs. They both rested a hand on her back and she lowered her head, blinking slowly.
‘I feel sick about it all. He makes me sick.’
Sid exhaled with force, shaking his head, and Amelia was grateful she didn’t have to look at him.
She continued: ‘I know him not being around was hard, that you’re mates, cousins, whatever. And you must be happy he’s finally willing to spend some time with you,’ she said. It was too abrupt. Sid tensed beside her, and she instantly wanted to fix it. ‘I don’t want to ruin your relationship or anything.’
‘You won’t ruin anything, Meels. I just want you to be okay.’
Amelia tugged on the loose material of the shorts Sid had lent her.
‘You hearing me?’ Sid said.
‘Yeah.’
‘I can tell him to leave. You don’t have to see him again. We don’t have to meet him later.’
Amelia turned and looked up, tracking more postcards: Toowoomba, Dalby, Chinchilla. ‘It’s fine,’ she said. She searched, then, for the lighter-burn scars in the web of her hand, the little gifts from Zach. Some of them rose in small bumps and she traced back and forth across them. ‘It’s just that … I think I might want to say something to him.’
He paused, taking her hand in his. ‘Sure?’ he said.
‘Sure.’
‘Let’s get you out of here then, get a beer. Have some fun.’ He was on his feet, the mattress recovering from his sudden movement.
‘Two minutes,’ she said, closing her eyes.
‘One and a half.’
Sid got dressed in his going-out shirt: short-sleeved, collared and bright with wildflowers and vines. He went to pump up the tyres of the spare bike. Amelia dug through her drawer in Sid’s dresser, found a singlet and bra.
They cycled towards the bay through residential streets, Lucy following close behind. Amelia didn’t bother with the lead; she wanted to forgive and forget Lucy’s mistake on the highway earlier.
Amelia got off her bike as they reached the back roads of St Kilda. She walked slowly, peering into the windows of houses for too long, mesmerised by the flicker of televisions.
Sid linked his arm with hers, and they each managed their bikes with their outside hand. ‘C’mon, straggler.’
A woman leaned back on a street lamp. When a car rolled up, she went to the driver’s window, then walked around to the passenger seat, dragging her hand along the car bonnet. Lucy went up close to a driveway gate; she taunted the terrier that was in captivity, setting it yapping and growling.
Sid wanted Amelia to talk and she glossed over the devastation of Pops’s abandonment, speaking instead of her days in the white room. She tried to describe the different birds whose song woke her each morning, how fiercely the wind moved the trees outside her window, the rainless storms that lit the sky. Then she wanted to hear him talk instead, to hear every detail of the days, weeks, months that had passed.
‘It’s all the same with me,’ he said. ‘I’ve just been working, sleeping and missing you.’
Once they reached The Esplanade they locked up their bikes. The path widened and people walked slowly, taking in the last of the sunset over Port Phillip Bay. The sea breeze picked up and Amelia sucked in the air, which was laced with salt and fried food.
‘Just felt like seeing the water,’ Sid said. ‘You know?’
‘Yeah,’ she said, resting on a railing beside him, a road buzzing between them and the beach.
‘Even though it’s this shitty bay, and there are all these shitty people around, it’s still the water; it’s still big and scary and strange.’
‘Not that scary,’ she said. ‘Biggest thing to fear on that beach is broken glass.’
He scoffed. ‘I know, I know. But you get what I mean.’
‘Yeah,’ she said. ‘I do.’
Kitesurfers cut through the water, coloured sprinkles across the horizon. Unmoved by the view, Lucy sat with her back to the bay, sniffing the air as people passed. A couple walked by, in no rush; a woman wore a striped maxi dress and gripped her partner’s biceps. He leaned in, kissed her on the forehead, and she raised her chin to collect a second kiss on the mouth.
‘Stop staring!’ Sid said, stern but quiet. The woman met Amelia’s eye before she quickly looked away.
‘Don’t realise I’m doing it,’ she said.
‘Doesn’t make it okay. Weirdo.’
‘You look too, don’t you?’
‘Not sure. I think so, but I’m much better at it. Maybe it helps me to have brown eyes. Your eyes are so bloody bright and big. Lovely, of course, but it’s so obvious when you’re looking at someone.’
‘Righto, righto,’ she said. ‘Told me a million times.’
‘You gotta be more stealth,’ he said. ‘Like this.’ He kept his head still but his eyes followed the path of two teenage boys, skateboards tucked under their arms.
‘That side-eye treatment is so much worse,’ she said. ‘You look like a creeper.’
‘But at least no one notices.’
‘I reckon they probably do. But they’re scared of you so they don’t dare look back. At least my way it might look like I’m just thinking hard or something.’
‘I doubt they think that. It looks like you’re judging them and that you’re absolutely disgusted.’
‘I didn’t think that couple was gross,’ she said. ‘I thought they were nice.’
‘They’d never have guessed.’
‘Who cares, anyway? Everyone’s looking at everyone. That’s how it works in a city.’
Sid looked out to the water, reaching across his body to scratch his shoulder. ‘You’re right, as usual,’ he said. ‘Who cares. Stare all you want.’
‘Thank you. I will. Can’t help it.’ She stared at him then, at his soft cheeks, hairless where he’d always longed to be able to grow a beard. He smiled, still looking out over the water. ‘What?’ she said, her lips cracking as she smiled, too.
‘Nothin’,’ he said. ‘Just that … I know you’re not okay. Feels like you’re still far away somewhere. But I will make you talk to me. You can’t shut me out. You know that, right?’
Amelia nodded, then bowed her head. ‘Yeah, I know.’
Sid shrugged. ‘But this breeze,’ he said, ‘the whole night ahead of us … I dunno. I’m just excited you’re here.’ He picked up her wrist and gave it a gentle shake before letting go.
‘Me too,’ she said, and she was smiling, closing her eyes in the breeze. The last light of the setting sun was warm and soft, somehow massaging around the pit in her stomach, the part of her that kept formulating words for Zach then deciding against them.
They stood for a few minutes, quiet. The railing was warm beneath Amelia’s arms and she tucked in next to Sid as the air c
ooled, felt his breath go in then out, his heart buried shallow in his slight frame.
Bars and restaurants lit up for the evening. ‘Time for a drink?’ Sid said.
They wandered further down The Esplanade and an outdoor table freed up as they approached a bar.
‘Beer?’ she said.
‘Beer,’ he said with a single nod. Lucy lay flat beneath the table, resting her head on her paws.
‘Your shout, I’ll queue,’ Amelia said.
Inside, the line for a drink was three rows deep. A glass smashed, followed by shouting. A group of men took shots at the bar; one of them shook his head then beat his chest, letting out a loud roar. Amelia took a deep breath and chose what appeared to be the shortest route to the bar, behind two women with sleek hair.
‘You’d be much prettier if you smiled.’ A man’s voice from somewhere beside her. She scanned the faces and found him, saw his lopsided grin, his drunken gaze, loose and wet. She smiled without meaning to, only for a second. ‘That’s better,’ he said. Amelia crossed her arms over her chest, wished herself back into Sid’s giant T-shirt.
‘No need to be so narky, sweetheart,’ he said. ‘You’re so pretty … it’s just a shame, that’s all.’ There was a surge from the bar and rows of people stepped back onto each other. One of the women in front trod on Amelia’s toe with a dagger heel. She sucked in her breath, closing her eyes briefly as the pain flared. ‘Anyway, what are you up to tonight, sweetheart?’
‘Trying to get a drink.’ She turned her shoulders away from him, moved up in the queue. He sidled in next to her.
‘You here with friends?’ He leaned forward and searched the faces around her. ‘Boyfriend?’
A woman sloshed her way between them, spilling cold liquid down Amelia’s back. ‘A friend. A boy who’s a friend.’
‘Ah,’ he said with a nod. ‘It’s complicated, huh?’
‘Not at all.’
‘Friends with benefits then, is it?’ he said, nudging her with his elbow. His arm was sticky, the hairs hard with sweat or spilled drink. ‘Got time for another one?’ he said.
As she tried to get out of the crowd, she had to push right up against the guy, chest to chest. ‘Look out, she’s a feisty one,’ he said as she squeezed past. She shouldered people aside as she made her way to the exit, ignoring their exclamations, needing fresh air.
Sid stood as she stepped out of the door and Lucy was ready, too. ‘Let’s go,’ Amelia said.
‘Too much?’ he said.
‘Way too much.’
Sid popped in to a bottle shop and came out with a box of goon.
‘Ten bucks!’ he said, lifting it proudly onto his shoulder as they walked across a bridge and down the stairs to the beach. Coloured lasers flashed across the sand from a nightclub perched on the boardwalk. They continued making their way up the beach till the dance music dulled, Lucy kicking up sand as she ran ahead. A couple of metres from the edge of the water, Sid sat on the goon box and began punching in the cardboard opening.
Amelia unlaced her shoes.
‘You’re brave,’ Sid said. ‘Still pretty druggy round here.’
She shrugged and pulled her shoes off. ‘Live a little.’
She walked to the water and curled her toes in the wet sand. Small waves tickled the tops of her feet. Boats drifted far out at sea, their lights flickering like tiny candles.
‘Oi, come give me a drink,’ Sid said, patting the opened goon box. ‘Like the good old days.’
She turned to him and as she approached, he fell to the sand on his knees, mouth open. She picked up the box, held it high over his head and squirted the liquid into his mouth. It came out in a powerful stream and his mouth overflowed; he lowered his head as he choked, and copped the stream in an eye. They both laughed, and hers came from deep in her belly, from the same muscles she hadn’t realised were sore from crying in the shower earlier.
Lucy ran over to join in, bouncing around Sid, snapping at the air and growling in excitement. He rubbed his eye, still smiling. He remained on his knees, threw his head back again.
‘More,’ he said. Amelia pushed the lever and squirted him in the neck and all down his front. ‘Jesus,’ he said, laughing again, collapsing onto his back in the sand, clutching the wet spot as if it were a wound.
They built an elaborate sandcastle while they worked their way through the wine. Amelia concentrated on moats, arches and bridges while Sid finessed turrets and collected debris to use for decoration, taking Lucy with him to scavenge. When they were finished, Amelia sat looking at the sky; the glow of the city lights shrouded the stars. The crowds had slowly dispersed from the beach as the night went on, and it felt like just the two of them and Lucy still out there. Amelia picked up the goon box and squirted herself a few mouthfuls.
‘Wanna walk to the pier?’ Sid said.
‘Sure,’ she said, willing herself up.
He grabbed her hands and pulled her to her feet. With his arm linked through hers, he dragged her along the beach, her steps laboured.
At the pier, she tightened her arm against his, not trusting herself near the edge, which wobbled as she walked. Sid was unsteady too, and, clinging to each other, they made their way to the end of the pier in zigzags. Lucy trotted ahead, her paws clicking along the wooden planks.
The smell of salt was stronger out here and the breeze had force behind it, pressing her clothes against her skin. A pelican sat alone on the pier’s last pole; it stayed for a few moments after they arrived, then jumped and flapped away over the bay. Metal railings signalled the drop into the water, which swelled below. Sid climbed up on the railing and sat with his legs dangling; once he was set, she passed him the goon sack and climbed up beside him, wrapping her legs around the poles for security. Lucy curled up nearby, a fuzzy mass in the darkness. Sid cooeed and the wind swallowed the sound, so he did it again and again, his own echo. He held his head back, the skin of his throat taut and illuminated by the moon, then drank from the goon bag.
‘This is the life, eh?’ he said. He slurred his words in the way he always did after too much drink, and his voice was croaky from all the yelling at the bay. ‘You and me.’
‘Yeah,’ she said.
‘It is, right?’ he said.
‘Yep, it is.’
He looked wild, closing his eyes to the wind, a smile stretching across his face. The alcohol was having the opposite effect on her; she had been energised for a while, but now her arms and legs were heavy and her mind was slow, taking too long to process the things that rose within it. She tried to steel herself for when Zach met them there, while also preparing for him not coming at all. If he came, she would look him in the eye, she would keep control of herself, stop the shaking, the rising heat. She took the goon bag from Sid; her head spun as she gulped.
‘Get it in ya!’ Sid yelled. He was playful, elbowing her so she snorted, the wine stinging its way up and out of her nose. She shoved him and he grabbed the railing to keep himself from falling in the water. ‘Easy, easy,’ he said.
She drank more to get rid of the sting, gulping till she thought she’d vomit, seeking whatever buzz Sid had.
‘Were you angry at me?’ she said, and she’d been wanting to ask all night but hadn’t quite managed it.
‘What?’
‘That I did it without you?’
‘Did what?’
‘You know, just set off. Without saying anything.’
He took a deep breath, smile gone, his forehead creased with seriousness. ‘When you’ve been through what you’ve been through, you get to do whatever you need to do.’
‘I didn’t plan it or anything. I would have told you, if I knew.’
‘Honestly, you did what you had to do. You’re brave, much braver than me. I would have held you back.’
‘No, that’s not true.’
Sid looked out at the water, swiped beneath his nose and sniffed, the way he did when he was contemplating something big. ‘Has it helped, all that travel, al
l that freedom?’
‘I don’t know …’ she said. ‘Didn’t feel like freedom, exactly. But there was a lot of time to think.’
‘Good thinking time or bad thinking time?’
‘I dunno. Maybe both?’ She swung her legs back and forth beneath her.
‘And do you know where you wanna go next?’
‘Well, I know that I’m done …’
‘You wanna go home?’
‘No. I don’t want to live in that house. Not without Mum.’
‘Not ever?’
‘Not ever.’
‘What do you wanna do then?’
‘I dunno. Something different.’
‘You could stay here,’ he said.
‘Nah,’ she said. ‘This is your place.’ Looking out at the choppy water, feeling the buildings of the city creeping up behind her, she knew she wouldn’t live there. ‘Let’s jump,’ she said.
‘You serious?’
She dropped off the rail onto the pier behind her, then pulled her singlet over her head and stepped out of her shorts.
‘What are you doing?’ he said.
‘What do you think?’
She climbed back onto the railing, but stood this time, balancing on the metal with her toes, using Sid’s shoulder for support.
‘Wait for me,’ Sid said, sliding out from underneath her. She wobbled, arms out to either side, unsure if she’d last until he returned. Then he was there, teeth flashing. ‘Ready?’ he said. She grabbed hold of his hand and yanked, taking them both over the edge.
The fall was longer than she’d expected, so long she wondered if she’d been wrong about the presence of water – the waves, the reflection, the smell only an illusion. Then her body landed with a slap. The water was thick around her as her momentum dragged her deeper and deeper. Before she’d finished her descent she was out of breath and she kicked to the surface, face pushing forward, lips ready to open to fresh air. Once there, she searched for Sid and tried to recover. He squirmed beneath her feet, pinching at her skin like a crab, then surfaced, gasping.
‘Yiew!’ he called. ‘It’s so good!’ The water was cold and dark, blending with the night sky. Sid slunk beneath the ink with a dive. Lucy barked from the pier, and Amelia could just make her out, peering over the edge.