Steal My Sunshine Part 8

They had posters and embroidered wall-hangings, long stretches of material hung from corners that made the lounge room feel like a Bedouin tent. Chinese dishes filled with tiny bits that had lost their way, cups full of pens, engraved wooden chests, coloured bottles. Sofas and armchairs were draped in fabric, sometimes several layers thick. None of the doors closed properly and the carpet was almost worn down to the backing in some places.

I knocked on the gla.s.s panel of their door and, barely a second later, Chloe's dad opened it. *Hey, Hannah, I was just about to head out.'

*That's okay. Chloe told me to come a" she's got detention but she said . . . well, I could go and come back later or a"'

*Don't worry, come in. Chloe won't be long, will she?' Chloe's dad looked much younger than mine. He wore skinny jeans and loose t-shirts, had a goatee and wore his hair in a ponytail. But he still had lines around his eyes and a middle-aged gut.

As I went in, he walked out.

*Make yourself at home, darl,' he said, and shut the door. I heard him whistling as he went downstairs and looked around me, even more nervous than I had been before, wondering if I was alone or not.

I crept from room to room but it was dead quiet everywhere. I'd never felt it so still a" the Hatchers usually had a full house. Their dad's bar spilled over into their home most nights. And Evan always had friends over.

His room and Chloe's were the only ones I hadn't looked in. Evan's door was open just a crack and I tried to peer in but didn't dare push it open. There wasn't a single sound apart from the low, faint murmuring from the main street. When I went into Chloe's, I could see why a" her window was wide open, not the letting-in-air kind of open but the jumping-out-and-smashing-your-skull open. If you stood on her desk, you could fall straight out. I reached over and closed it.

I tried to make the bed so I could sit on it, but without Chloe thinking I'd been tidying. There was a hot-pink thong on the floor and several books splayed out that she was in the middle of reading, none of them set texts. There was the Powderfinger biography a" I knew Chloe's dad liked them. I picked it up and started to read where she'd left off but it was too hard to pretend I was interested in anything other than whether Evan was next door.

I coughed and listened. He wasn't there, was he? But I couldn't relax. I chewed off three fingernails and looked around Chloe's room without really taking anything in. There was a post-it note on her desk with the words *MAP a" DO NOT FORGET' in Chloe's handwriting, and she'd underlined every word twice. I had the strangest feeling but I couldn't explain it a" needing a map sounded like me, not Chloe.

*b.l.o.o.d.y h.e.l.l, you're here,' Chloe said when she came in over an hour later.

*You said I should.'

*I know I did, but it was so quiet when I walked in I figured you'd gone home.' As if to prove a point, she made a lot of noise walking through the room and picked up a magazine to swat the window and scare off a couple of seagulls who'd perched on the other side of the gla.s.s.

Evan appeared in the doorway. *Hey,' he said. He stretched one arm up in a yawn and scratched his messed-up hair with his other hand, and I realised he must have been asleep next door all this time.

*Hey,' I said, just as Chloe shut the door on him.

*No, thanks, not today,' she said. Evan's m.u.f.fled laugh as he walked away made it sound like he enjoyed how offensive Chloe could be. Sam would never have reacted like that. As for me, having the door closed was probably a good thing a" my heart was thumping just from that one-word exchange.

Chloe plopped down on the bed next to me. Then she rearranged herself a" this time with her head on my lap and her legs stretched out. She picked up my hand and put it on her head, a simple message that she needed comfort. I stroked her hair, but I knew I wasn't very good at this bit. In cla.s.s I'd see other girls plaiting each other's hair or holding hands; they'd walk around school with their arms linked. But I always felt too awkward. And I never touched someone unless they made the first move, except maybe Dad. I wondered if Chloe knew that if she ever stopped kissing me goodbye that that ritual would end because I'd never initiate it.

*You were funny in cla.s.s today,' she said.

*Was I?'

*The way Mr Inglewood ran after you cracked me up.'

*He's a d.i.c.khead.'

*Oh yeah? You sure you two aren't . . .?'

*As if, Chlo.'

She laughed. *What? That'd be cla.s.sic. Girls always fall for older men when their dads walk out on them. You see it all the time.' She flipped onto her back and started to roll a ciggie. *I'm working tonight, by the way.'

*I thought we were hanging out.'

*Sorry, some of us have responsibilities.' She didn't look sorry at all. *Why don't you see what Evan's doing? He'll probably let you hang out with him if you don't want to go home.'

I couldn't read her a" or remember her ever suggesting that before. But something in her voice had made it sound like she thought Evan would be doing me a favour. Babysitting me, almost. Maybe they'd spoken about it a" Chloe might have told him what I'd told her about him asking me out. I pictured him laughing; the two of them ridiculing me. The weight of Chloe's head in my lap was suddenly making my legs twitch.

*Well?' she said. *What you gonna do?'

*I'll go, I think.' I tried to shift her off me.

*You okay, Han?'

*Fine. Just trying to get up.'

*You don't have to go this second. Stay.' She sat up, cross-legged, and licked the edge of the ciggie paper to seal it, then tossed it onto the bedside table. *Anyone heard from your dad?'

*I just saw him. It was awful. He barely said a word. It was like watching someone get told off by the princ.i.p.al. He looked kind of awkward and guilty.'

*At least he feels that.'

She meant her mum. But if Chloe hadn't heard from her mum in all these years, she wouldn't have a clue how she felt. I'd never have said that to Chloe, though.

*Just wait till they both get new partners,' she said, *then the fun really starts.'

*Jesus.' I turned my face to hide how deeply that thought had cut through me. But apparently I hadn't done a very good job.

*Han, stay strong, okay? You've got to look after yourself now.' She held one of my hands in both of hers. This was Chloe at her best a" on my side a" and I wanted to keep her there. *Just remember that whatever you're feeling is the right thing to feel. When something happens to you, it's your thing. It makes you grow up a bit,' she shrugged. *I'm not saying you needed to or anything.'

I smiled and gave her a look. *But that is kind of what you mean.'

*I'm just telling you that you can handle this.'

It was moments like this that made me remember what was special about Chloe. Every so often she gave me a little piece of her strength. I just wasn't sure what she got in return. *What was it like for you?'

*I was six, Han, I can't remember.' My question had hardened her up again. *Plus, it was my mum who left, not my dope-head dad. You're lucky.'

*I'm not lucky. G.o.d.'

*Fine, you're not.' Chloe let go of my hand, lit her rollie and settled back on her side to smoke it. *Sorry, don't mind me,' she said after a few tokes. *I'm all over the place at the moment.'

*How come?'

*Doesn't matter. Argued with a guy a" no big deal.'

*Who is it?'

*Just a n.o.body. It's over.'

It was another one of those dead-end conversations that made me feel like I was too young to understand what was going on in my best friend's life. *I know this might sound weird,' I said, *but you know Essie?'

*Nana Nutbags? Yeah.'

*Funny. Anyway, she wants to meet you.' As soon as the words were out I felt like I'd taken a stupid risk. What if Chloe actually wanted to come? *Doesn't matter. As if you'd want to. I mean, I don't even want you to, I was just saying what she'd said.'

*Why wouldn't you want me to? Are you scared I wouldn't know how to behave in front of Mrs Haversham?'

*Who's that?'

*Han, do you ever read? She's the crazy old lady in the wedding dress from Great Expectations. Creepy as h.e.l.l but kind of sad.'

Chloe didn't have the look of someone who'd read all the cla.s.sics but she knew way more than you'd think. She joked that her dad used to leave her and Evan alone for hours when they were little so they'd had to fend for themselves, making sandwiches filled with coloured sprinkles and reading stories aloud because the TV was always broken. I'd always been jealous when I pictured them doing that. What would Sam and I have gotten up to if Mum and Dad hadn't always been around? I didn't think it would be reading to each other.

*I just meant that you've probably got better things to be doing on a Sat.u.r.day.'

She took a last puff and dropped the b.u.t.t into a cup by her bed. *I'm coming.'

*Seriously? You don't have to.'

*I'm coming! It'll be cool. The famous Essie. Awesome.' She put her head back in my lap, facing away, and rested her hand on my leg, gently stroking me with her thumb.

An hour later, I walked out of Chloe's building and was halfway to the main street when I heard my name.

*You left without a goodbye,' said Evan. He didn't have shoes on. I couldn't help imagining what my mum would say a" when we were little if felt like she never stopped going on about broken gla.s.s and dog poo.

*Sorry,' I said. *Your door was shut.'

*I'll let you off then.' He nudged me. Then he didn't speak, he just looked at me.

*Um,' I said, and we both laughed. This was painful and amazing. How did people navigate conversations like this all the time? They made it look easy. I'd watched Chloe get chatted up outside her dad's bar hundreds of times.

*So, did you want to hang out tomorrow night?' he said. *There's a band I know doing a gig. You might like them.'

It felt wonderful and completely impossible that Evan might know what music I'd like. I only pretended to love the bands Chloe made me listen to. I'd inherited an embarra.s.sing mainstream taste in music from my dad. We joked about how boring we were all the time, but only in private. *What about Chloe?'

*She'll be working again, I reckon. Said she's saving up for something.'

I felt ashamed to have no idea what that might be. *But I mean, would she mind?'

*I doubt it.' He smiled.

I must have looked unsure because he said, *We don't have to go to a bar. I'm not into getting boozed-up.'

I bet Chloe had told him that I was always the nerd who looked after her and her mates while they got high. If anything, I'd have rather had a beer with him a" at least I knew where I was with that, unlike drugs. Mum always let us have one drink at Christmas, or even a wine with a Sunday roast if she was in one of her rare up moods. She once said she'd rather we drank wine than c.o.ke because drinking c.o.ke was like soaking your teeth in acid. She didn't seem to get the irony.

I still hadn't given him an answer.

*It was just an idea, 'cause we've always got on well and . . .'

*We do. I'd like to,' I said, too quickly. *Let's do it.' My words seemed to be swept away by a pa.s.sing car, as if it had felt embarra.s.sed for me that I'd said *let's do it' to the boy I'd most imagined doing it with.

*Great,' he said, *so I'll meet you . . .' Evan scanned a hundred and eighty degrees, the heel of one bare foot grinding down the too-long hem of his jeans, and looked right at me, *. . . here?' We laughed again and he touched my arm, backing away. *See ya.' He smiled and turned, and so did I just so I could look up at the sky and say a secret thank you to the universe.

It felt like days had pa.s.sed, instead of just hours, when I walked through the front door.

Mum and Sam were on different sofas, watching TV. There were freshly made mugs of tea in front of them. The place had been tidied outside and in a" the garden furniture back in its usual setting, the Christmas decorations no longer scattered on the floor where Sam had chucked them. The tree was back in its box.

Mum sat there curled up in her old dressing gown, and didn't look round. She was picking bits of loose towelling on the sleeves, her eyes were glazed. Sam was sprawled out with the cat on his lap and his arms folded behind his head. He nodded at me and went back to the show he was watching, which I quickly worked out was a catalogue of airplane crashes.

*Bit late,' Mum said, her voice rasping as if she'd been shouting. I remembered she'd been smoking most of the night before. Maybe she hadn't been to bed yet. Her eyes were small again and looked sore.

*Sorry, got caught up at school.'

Mum would usually have quizzed me but she just made a face that was almost like a smile, not committed enough to be real.

*What's that?' I said, pointing to a strangely shaped object with a tablecloth I'd never seen before draped over it, in the corner where Dad used to keep a vintage tripod stand.

*It's Margot's,' said Mum. *Potter's wheel.'

*Why's it here?'

*Because I might make something.'

I didn't laugh out loud but I could have done. Mum was the least crafty person I'd ever known. Even tying my hair up when I was little had been a huge challenge for her. *Why's it got this cloth over it?' I said, pulling it off.

*Hannah, this endless stream of questions is a bit exhausting,' Mum snapped.

*I'm so freaking sorry,' I said. *I'll go to my room then, shall I?'

Mum sighed. *I didn't mean that.' But whatever she'd meant it was obvious that whenever I walked into a room that she was in I ended up ruining her mood. Even this morning a" why hadn't I just let Mum carry on getting stoned? Maybe it wasn't so hard to see why she'd rather spend time with Sam.

I walked out wondering if Mum and I would ever get along. Maybe you really couldn't force a family to work. How were you supposed to know to stop trying? Mum had stopped with me, it felt like. Essie was the only one I had left. She and I were connected. I needed to know everything there was to know about Essie, and hold onto her for as long as I could.

Sam knocked on my door half an hour later holding a plate of cheesy toast.

*What's that for?' I said.

*You, you idiot.' He pushed the plate into my chest.

*Ow, jerk.' It smelled amazing. *Thanks, though.' I couldn't help feeling suspicious but I was hungry too. He sat on my bed and watched me eat.

*Sam, you're being really weird.'

*How was school?'

*Er, fine?' I thought better of telling him about Mr Inglewood. *You didn't go to uni, I guess?'

*Mum needs me here.'

*Why would she need you?' I crammed in the toast as I spoke. *You don't know the first thing about relationships.'

With a flicker of a wry smile, he showed me I wasn't worth arguing with. What a joke a" he'd never been out with a girl for longer than three weeks. He was the romantic equivalent of a hermit crab, ditching a sh.e.l.l when it no longer fit and finding a new one.