4.
MUM INVITED HELENA AND TILLY over for dinner the next weekend. I hadn’t seen Tilly since the fete, and all week I’d had a sticky feeling that I didn’t know what to do with. When I looked out into the paddock I felt like I was looking at something ugly, instead of the same boring patch of dirt I’d looked at every day of my life. It was the same feeling I’d had when Mum was properly crook. But this time I couldn’t make Mum a hot Milo or give her a head massage to make the feeling go away for a bit. This time it was deep inside me, as though I’d be stuck with it forever.
We were having a roast for tea. Mum spent all afternoon peeling and chopping vegetables. She made Wally and me have a bath, wash our hair. I went first, and when I came out of the bath the water was milky, shampoo foam floating on the surface like frog eggs.
‘You better not have pissed in it,’ Wally said, stepping out of his undies.
I got sweaty again right away, stood in front of the fan in the kitchen while Mum set down a tablecloth.
‘Put some clothes on, Cub,’ Mum said. ‘For goodness’ sake.’
‘It’s too hot for clothes,’ I said.
‘You’re getting too old to be running around in the nude with all your bits showing.’
‘I don’t care,’ I said—if Wally didn’t have to wear a shirt then I shouldn’t have to either—but I got dressed anyway.
Mum had taken the fancy glasses from a box in the cupboard, and when Helena and Tilly arrived she’d already poured wine into all the adults’ glasses. I looked into a glass and there was a drowned fruit fly skimming the top. I reached in to scrape it out with my fingernail.
‘Don’t be foul,’ Mum said, swatting my hand as she headed towards the door. I left the fly where it was, hoped it wasn’t Helena’s glass.
Before dinner me and Wally and Tilly watched TV. I peeled my sunburn while Mum and Dad and Helena stood around in the kitchen. Mum had set out crackers and a salmon dip that looked as if it had already been eaten and spewed up again.
‘We should go swimming tomorrow,’ Tilly said.
‘Nah,’ I said. There was no way I was going out into the paddock.
‘Why not?’
‘I’m sick of swimming.’
Cassie came in from the verandah. ‘Do you want a soft drink, Tilly?’ he asked.
‘Yes, please,’ Tilly said.
‘What about us?’ asked Wally.
‘You have legs,’ Cassie said, and headed into the kitchen.
When he came back he handed Tilly a glass of creaming soda. Mum had made Dad buy soft drink especially for tonight, two whole bottles.
Tilly looked at the red fizz. ‘Don’t you have Pepsi?’ she said.
‘Dad doesn’t buy Pepsi,’ I said. ‘He says it’s more expensive.’
The kitchen table was too small for all of us, so Dad dragged a foldout table from under the house, tacked it at the end of the big table for me and Wally and Tilly to sit at. I can’t remember ever having anyone over to eat before, and it felt weird, like we were all acting, putting on a show. There weren’t enough plates so Wally and me had to eat from cereal bowls. It was hard to cut and everything slid up the sides. A piece of lamb fat flew out of my bowl and splatted onto the lino.
‘You did that on purpose,’ Tilly said.
‘Did not,’ I said. I could feel Mum glaring at me and shut my mouth.
‘This is real special,’ Helena said. ‘Haven’t had a roast in ages.’
‘This lot are picky with their food,’ Mum said. ‘Most nights it’s toasted sandwiches.’ She had a line of red above her top lip from the wine, like the rash you get from blowing your nose too much. I felt embarrassed all of a sudden, wished she would wipe her mouth.
‘How are you finding the house then?’ Dad said to Helena. ‘Everything working as it should?’
‘It’s fine,’ Helena said. ‘It’s not forever.’
‘Perfectly good house,’ Dad said, nodding and cutting into his potato. ‘And what about a job? Got anything lined up?’
‘Not yet,’ Helena replied. ‘I’ve been meaning to ask around town. Centrelink should keep us going for a while, though. Not having to pay rent is a real blessing. I just need to find something before Tilly’s school fees are due.’
‘Not sure why you’re bothering to send her to that school when it’s so far away,’ Mum said. ‘Nothing wrong with the public in town. If it was good enough for Dermott and me it’s good enough for this lot. She could ride her bike in with the twins.’
‘Well, she’s already started.’ Helena turned to Tilly, smiled. ‘Making new friends, aren’t you, Til?’
‘But if you’re short of money,’ Mum said, ‘surely a private school isn’t the smartest idea.’
Dad cleared his throat. ‘Always easy enough to get bar work,’ he said. ‘Maybe not around here, but if you’re willing to drive a bit. You done that sort of thing before?’
‘It’s hard to be on my feet for too long,’ Helena said.
‘Right, right,’ Dad said. ‘How’d the leg end up healing?’
Helena hadn’t stopped smiling, but now there was a strange twist to it. ‘Could’ve been worse,’ she said.
‘Too right,’ Dad said. ‘You’re damn lucky, I reckon. The both of you.’ He nodded towards Tilly.
Helena cut a piece of lamb and the knife scraped against the plate.
‘Dermott used to pull beers at the Connolly,’ Mum said. ‘Until he’d saved enough for a car. His old Cortina. God, I remember that piece of junk. Rattled like death when he first brought it home. He was proud as punch, though. Fixed it up himself. A real good mechanic, he was.’
‘Really?’ Tilly said, glancing at Helena.
‘Would’ve been,’ Helena said. ‘If he was able to sort himself out.’
Mum kept talking as though no one else had spoken. ‘Probably pinched a fair bit out of the pub till to afford that car, knowing Dermott,’ she said. ‘I took some pictures from the day he bought it. We made a bit of a day of it. I’ll have a poke around for them after dinner. Would you like to see pictures of your dad, Tilly?’ I don’t think I’d ever heard Mum talk so much in my whole life.
Tilly nodded. Helena reached over, gave Tilly’s shoulder a squeeze, but Tilly bunched her shoulders up to her ears, shrugged her off.
‘Well, if you hear of any work going,’ Helena said.
‘Not sure we’d be the best contacts,’ Dad said. ‘We’re not exactly popular around here, as you could probably gather.’
‘We don’t plan on sticking around for long,’ Helena said. ‘I’ve got a cousin in Sydney who can get me a job, help us sort out a place to live. Once we sell the place. Our half of the paddock.’
‘Good luck there,’ Dad said. ‘You’ll be hard-pressed to find anyone interested.’
‘Because of the dead people?’ Wally asked. ‘Is that why no one will buy it?’
The air went thin, as though everyone had taken a breath at exactly the same time.
‘Shut up, Wally,’ Cassie said quietly.
‘It is, isn’t it?’ Wally said.
I’d forgotten about it for a second, felt the rotten feeling begin to churn in my arms and legs again. I kept shooting Wally sneaky brain messages for him to shut his mouth.
‘Eat your dinner, Wally,’ Dad said. He spoke in a normal voice, but by the way he was glaring I knew Wally would be up for a smack later on.
‘But it’s yuck,’ Wally said, poking his meat with his knife. ‘I hate lamb. It tastes like poo.’
‘Who’s dead?’ Tilly asked.
Helena stood up, put her napkin on the table. ‘We’d better be off then,’ she said. There was still a potato and most of her meat on her plate.
‘Already?’ Mum said. ‘I got fruit salad and custard for dessert. Dermott’s favourite. Would you like that, Tilly?’