Steal My Sunshine Part 9

*Fine, you're Dr Phil all of a sudden,' I said. *Silly me.'

He had an expression on his face like there was something he wasn't telling me, and it was something he found painful. *What is it, Sam? What's the secret between Mum and Dad? Why did he leave?'

He got up, and whatever tiny shred of closeness that showed itself for a moment vanished. *They just split up, Hannah. It happens.' He opened the door to leave, and let in a strange humming sound.

*What's that noise?'

*Margot's potter's wheel.' He scoffed and shook his head. *b.l.o.o.d.y woman.' As he spat out the words, a fleck of spittle dotted his lip and his cheeks turned pink. Sam had always been a wuss about sharing Mum. *She's coming over.'

*Who, Margot?'

*She's bidding for a kiln on eBay and wants to use our computer.'

I laughed and, taking a chance, held out the empty plate for Sam.

*It's not funny,' he said, s.n.a.t.c.hing it. *Do you want Margot round here every day?'

*I don't really care,' I said wearily.

He opened the door and slammed it behind him. There was a sharp, sudden sense of justice at the thought of Sam feeling pushed out for once, but after that I felt lonely again.

I didn't think Mum and Sam could have any more in common but I was wrong. They both devoted the rest of that evening to a turntable.

Mum had sludge up to her elbows and she was pumping the pedal of her wheel, puffing as if she was on an exercise bike. Margot was by her side the first time I looked, but when I went to have a shower later, it was just Mum on her own.

Sam was in his room with the door ajar. He had on his ma.s.sive headphones and nodded to whatever was playing, barely perceptibly, while his fingers worked the vinyl.

Both of them seemed to be spinning their way deeper inside themselves, winding up into neat little spools that no one could touch. Spinning and spinning. As far as I could tell they weren't speaking to each other any more.

I spotted Sam's reading gla.s.ses on the arm of the sofa a" retro tortoisesh.e.l.l ones a" and Mum's almost identical ones on the kitchen table. Dad and I would make fun of the routine they had of always picking up the wrong gla.s.ses and exchanging them seconds later with a conspiratorial giggle. We'd look at each other and pretend to swap a body part, like an eyeball. I think we always meant it kindly but it was tainted with something not so funny, something that went deep.

Mum and Sam were still spinning away when I got out of the shower. It was nearly midnight. I wished Dad were here so I could say, *Some people go potty when their marriage breaks down, but Mum's gone pottery.' It seemed like the kind of lame joke Dad would have found funny.

My mobile rang and it was Angie. *I've been trying to call your mum. Is she all right?'

*She's fine, but she's busy making pots, Ange.'

*Say that again?'

I told Angie all about the potter's wheel and also about Sam shut away, taking himself way too seriously with his headphones on.

*There's a sort of sweet symmetry in that,' said Angie. *And what about you?'

*I've got my own things going on,' I said.

That night I woke every hour, blinking at the digits on my alarm clock, my eyes more dry and sore each time. At four, the sound of Sam's bedroom door creaking made me wonder if he was up too. It took a few more seconds to realise that the humming sound hadn't stopped. The weight of sleep disappeared and I got up.

From the shadows of the hallway I could see Mum's foot still furiously pedalling. Sam was kneeling beside her. I pressed my back against the wall to stay hidden. Scribble brushed against my legs and his fur was wet. It must have been raining for the first time in days.

Then I noticed that the potter's wheel, spinning fast, was empty, and Mum's face was tilted up slightly, the tears on her cheeks caught in the glow of a spotlight on the kitchen ceiling.

*I don't know what to do next,' she told Sam. She sounded full of despair.

He reached out and held her foot still. *I think you need to stop now, Mum.' Then he let go of her foot and stood up, resting his hands on her shoulders. She sniffed a few times and took a deep breath, but then she shrugged him off and pedalled again, angrily now.

Sam started to back away and I hurried back to my room, almost catching Scribble's tail with the door as he followed me in. For ages I lay there, listening to the whirring sound until I couldn't remember what night-time silence felt like.

The next morning I could tell Sam and Mum still weren't speaking to each other, mainly because they were both speaking to me. Mum was in the baggy black clothes she wore to Pilates once a week with Angie, but I think it was only because no one had done the washing. They were both acting cheery with me and avoiding each other, and I realised that even when they were angry with each other I still felt excluded.

I sat at the table, eating toast, and mapped out my Sat.u.r.day in my head. Tram to St Kilda, walk to Middle Park, meet Chloe in a cafe, Essie's. Walk back to St Kilda with Chloe, tram home, tram back to St Kilda, meet Evan. I tried to imagine further than that but kept getting stuck on the first moment we'd see each other a" on what he'd say, what I'd say and the way he'd touched my arm the other day. I was scared of it happening but even more scared that it wouldn't.

I'd arranged to meet Chloe at ten o'clock in a cafe five minutes' away from Essie's place. By ten-fifteen I'd almost finished my coffee. I sc.r.a.ped the milk froth in tiny portions so I could make the rest last and look like I still had a reason to be there.

More than anything, I wanted to skip this part of the day. The thought of Chloe and Essie in the same room felt as bad as a parent-teacher meeting that you had to sit in on. Two separate worlds were going to collide, and that meant the different versions of myself a" the different ways Chloe and Essie saw me a" would collide too. That wasn't going to be an easy mix.

Chloe came in, smiling a" a genuine beam that charged straight into me. She kissed me and sat down opposite, then licked her finger before smearing it around the leftover cocoa on the rim of my cup. *Sorry I'm late. Had to kick Dad's a.r.s.e before I left. He mucked up the last order and I had to push spirits all night because we were out of beer. Can you believe it?'

Chloe's make-up was heavy but flawless a" black eyeliner thick like icing, baby-pink blusher, shiny lip gloss and ivory skin. She was wearing her nose-ring and a thick bangle on each wrist, black jeans as tight as she could squeeze into and a simple black vest. She was beautiful and Essie was going to love her. Was that why I'd been so worried? Chloe was Essie's kind of girl and there was no version of me that could compete. I wondered for the first time why Chloe had wanted to do this. She didn't have to come and meet Essie a" she'd have had a million better things to do. Sat.u.r.days at her house were lazy breakfasts, friends of Evan's and her dad rolling joints and playing old records.

*What did you get up to last night?' Chloe boldly took a can of c.o.ke from her bag and put it on the table, eyeing the waitress and enjoying the loud fizz as she pulled back the ring and put her mouth over the hole. She slurped and smiled.

*Nothing.'

*Was everyone out or something?'

*Something like that.'

*Very cryptic.'

*So did you tell your lot what you were doing today? I bet they thought it was weird.' I was almost wincing, wondering if it was obvious that I was fishing for information about Evan.

*No one was even up when I left. Shall we go then?'

*I guess.'

Chloe smiled and wiggled her eyebrows. I felt like she was treating this whole thing like a theatre show. She stood up and slung her bag over her shoulder, gulping the rest of her c.o.ke. Then she burped and narrowed her eyes. *There's something different about you today, Han.'

I rang Essie's bell and fiddled with the black teardrop ring.

*Does she usually take this long to answer the door?' Chloe said. She spit her gum into the wrapper and chucked it into a hedge.

*She's old.'

*Newsflash!'

*Sshh, I can hear her.' I put my ear to the gla.s.s panel at the side of the door. The noises were coming from down the hall. *Essie? Are you okay? It's Hannah.'

*And Chloe!'

Nothing.

I got the spare key from the mailbox and, in my head, repeated the mantra: stay calm, stay calm, stay calm. I opened the door and led the way down the hall. When I was almost at the kitchen, I spotted the toilet door slightly ajar and Essie's black Mary Jane shoes with the little b.u.t.tons I used to like to turn as a child. Then I caught a glimpse of Essie's hands grabbing at the beige stockings bunched at her ankles. I quickly gripped Chloe's shoulders and pushed her past me, into the sitting room. Oh, G.o.d! She'd been trying to get up from the toilet.

*Wait here, Chlo. Please just wait here.'

*Um, okay.' Chloe gave me a confused look but I was pretty sure she hadn't seen anything. She looked around the room and sat down in Essie's chair. I'd have to sort that out once I'd dealt with Essie in the toilet. This was going even worse than I'd imagined.

I stepped towards the toilet but didn't look in. *Essie, are you okay?'

She came out steaming mad. *You could have waited. I wouldn't have been long.'

*But I thought . . . I'm so sorry, Essie.'

She nodded once, her mouth in a firm line. *Is your friend here?'

*Yes, Chloe's in there.'

*All right.' She smiled and I was forgiven. We started over. *h.e.l.lo, darling.' She squeezed my arm and held on as she pa.s.sed by me, wincing as she walked.

*Well . . .' Essie looked Chloe up and down. *I like your nose-ring, but I think you'll find that's my chair.'

Chloe smiled and got up like it was just a normal mistake to make, nothing to feel ashamed of. I suppose it wasn't, but I'd have died.

*Hannah, darling, why don't you make some tea or coffee or whatever you girls fancy.' Essie looked at Chloe the whole time she spoke to me, and Chloe didn't seem to mind.

As the kettle boiled I tried to formulate a plan. There was no detail to the plan but the main point of it seemed to be: don't get pushed out. Essie belonged to me.

*Essie says there are more ashtrays in here,' said Chloe, walking into the kitchen as if she already felt at home.

*Top cupboard, over there.'

She took a couple out, looked from one to the other and decided on a green gla.s.s one, shaped like a scooped-out avocado. *Mmm, coffee. Great!' She kissed my cheek, grinned at me and left. I was sulking already and I knew it; I didn't even want to go back in there. But then I heard them laughing and thought again: No way, I'm not losing this time.

For ages we talked and Essie listened. Chloe and I took turns to do impressions of all the girls in our cla.s.s; teachers, too. Essie loved it. I felt like I was on the edge of something; excited, hot in the cheeks from laughing and performing. The room was thick with smoke.

Essie was sitting back, tiny in her chair. She held her fist to her mouth and her eyes were wide in antic.i.p.ation of the next thing we'd say. She seemed to be taking pleasure in the energy of us. She winked at me a few times when Chloe wasn't looking.

It took my breath away when Chloe suddenly turned the focus onto Essie. *What was your life like, Essie, when you were our age?'

It was as if she'd broken a spell. The life in the room seemed to settle like dust. Essie looked grave for a moment and then sat forward. *I'll tell you.' She looked from Chloe to me. *I'll tell you both.' And by the twinkle in her eyes, I knew she was talking about the secret she'd promised.

*Maybe another day, Essie,' I said, panicking. *Chloe has to work today.' I glanced at the clock, hoping it would say it was nearly two but it wasn't even close.

*I've got plenty of time,' said Chloe. *I'll just empty this and make us some more coffees.' She took the green ashtray and headed for the kitchen but stopped to say, *Oh, is that okay with you, Essie?'

*I should think so,' said Essie, looking at Chloe as if she were seriously impressed.

Once it was just us I knelt by her chair. *Um . . . Essie, were you going to tell both of us that secret you mentioned? It's just that . . .'

*It's just what, darling?' She was mimicking my whisper in a way that seemed to mock me.

*It's just that you said you were going to tell me, and I was worried about Chloe knowing . . . stuff. Whatever it is.'

*Isn't she to be trusted? I thought she was your best friend. My best friend knows everything about me.'

She's my only friend, I thought, and then wondered if the friend Essie was talking about was the one who still sent her tea from London.

Chloe came in with our mugs, the ashtray balancing on one of them. *Essie, did you want coffee?'

*Not for me, darling. I'll have a real drink in a minute.'

Chloe sat on the sofa, so close that our legs were touching. *I like that painting,' she said, looking at the one of Essie at Sydney Harbour Bridge, which was leaning in a s.p.a.ce between the mantelpiece and a low cabinet. *Are you from Sydney, Essie?'

*I was born in London.'

*Right, the accent. Funny how you never lost it.'

*Some things are hard to shake.'

Chloe nodded and took a drag. *What's London like?'

*Sometimes I'm not sure I remember properly. Then I'll get a picture of it or a smell that makes me feel that the whole of my life here has been a dream and my life in London is the one I'm going to wake up in. And I'll still be fifteen.' She smiled for a second, in a way that showed me how important it was for her to hold onto that dream.

*We lived in the middle of a terrace that curved around a green. The houses were so tall you could hardly see the sky. That's what I first noticed about coming here a" spoilt for sky. London was often in thick fog but not like here where it covers the tops of buildings first thing in the morning and lifts off cleanly after an hour or two. It was fog mixed with smoke from all the houses and factories. Sometimes you couldn't see a thing for days on end. After I left, there was a time when lots of people died.'

*From fog?' said Chloe. *How many people?'

*Thousands.'

*You're kidding me! That's crazy.'

*People couldn't even see their own feet walking along the pavement, or their hand in front of their face.'

I made myself step in before I became a useless extra in my own family history.

*Did anyone you know die, Essie?' I said.

*Someone did, yes.'

*Who?' said Chloe. I elbowed her. *What?'

I gave her a warning look even though I wanted to know just as much.

*How old were you when you left?' I said, turning back to Essie.

*I didn't leave,' Essie replied. *I was sent.'

*Harsh. What did you do?' said Chloe. Essie looked like she was deciding how to put it, but Chloe was impatient. *Tell us what you were like. I bet you were trouble.'