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Authors: Alyssa Brugman

Tags: #Juvenile fiction

Alex as Well (13 page)

BOOK: Alex as Well
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39

YOU KNOW WHAT it comes down to? Alex says to me. People who don’t want to lose their babies shouldn’t treat them like shit.

I asked Crockett to tell me more about Natalie while we drove.

He hoped that she would go to university. His wife wanted Natalie to do law. She seemed to enjoy being a tour guide. Crockett thought she would get tired of travel. He didn’t think she was a people person. ‘Doesn’t suffer fools’ was the expression he used, but she was very good at organising. She used to organise things when she was little. She used to get her brother’s matchbox cars and make a car park.

I’m trying to fit that information in with my Spanish-talking dread girl.

The foster lady lives at the end of a dirt road. There’s no public transport. She’s going to have to drive me
anywhere I want to go. I have rehearsal for the fashion parade tomorrow afternoon. I’m not sure how I’m going to get back here. I suppose I could drop out.

We bump over a cattle grid, and wind down to her neat house with a wraparound veranda. I look through the window while we wait for her to answer the door. There’s not much stuff, just wicker furniture, but no pictures or knick-knacks or papers anywhere. It’s stark and a bit threadbare, like a holiday rental.

She invites us in, but she doesn’t smile. Her name is Pam. She’s got wiry hair, and grey podgy skin as though she’s never seen a vegetable. Maybe she’s nice on the inside.

She’s not, though. After Crockett leaves, she shows me to my room. It’s plain, but clean. It has a chenille bedspread. I think they stopped making them twenty years before I was born.

I unpack, and when I come out again she has made me tinned spaghetti on toast for a snack. That’s nice, right?

‘This is my first night away from home,’ I tell her.

Pam turns the telly on.

‘My mother is away at the moment. She doesn’t know that I’m gone yet.’

Pam is flicking between the channels. She settles on
Grand Designs
with that snooty English man.

‘But then she didn’t tell us that she was going either. She went to Fiji.’

‘Sometimes it’s easier not to talk about it,’ she says, not
taking her eyes off the telly. Pam looks lumpy, as though she’s made out of rubber. You could imagine her peeling her skin off and a whole new person climbing out from underneath.

Alex shivers.

The pantry door is partially open, and I can see row after row of home-brand tinned spaghetti.

It wasn’t a snack, it was dinner. But even that isn’t why she’s mean.

In the wardrobe in my room there is a stack of Sweet Valley High books. I lie down and read
Wrong Kind of Girl
from front to back.

It takes me ages to get to sleep, because this house is cold and has no soul. I’m wondering if I should get out another one of the Sweet Valley High books when I hear feet whispering across the floor and Pam’s shadow falls across the covers. I lie really still. I’m afraid for a moment that she’s going to do something unnatural to me. My whole body tenses.

Pam lays an extra blanket over me (that’s nice), watches me for a moment and then she goes back to the kitchen, where she rings someone.

‘Yeah, she turned up this afternoon. I don’t know why I do this anymore.’ There’s a pause. ‘Yeah, but the money’s not
that
good, you know what I mean?’

I don’t even know why this makes me cry into my pillow, because I don’t really care what Podgy Pam thinks of me. Maybe it’s because I want to go and live with
Ned and Alice in Sweet Valley, and have a twin who is a beautiful cheerleader, instead of an imaginary wanker.

I get ready for school the next morning. There’s no lock on the bathroom door, so I have a really quick shower, because I’m worried Pam will come in and see me. But I pause when I’m naked in front of the mirror, because there are breasts there. Just little mosquito bites, but definitely girl breasts. I dress quickly, and then I do the mineral makeup in layers with a brush, like at my photo shoot. I do my eyes all wide and manga, with pink eye shadow to cover the puffiness and the red.

When I come out of the bathroom, Pam is watching
Sunrise
. She turns, says to me, ‘And you can wash all that off, for a start,’ as if there had been another instruction before that one.

‘It’s ok, it’s not against school rules.’

‘I don’t care about school rules, it’s against Pam rules.’

I’m not sure how to politely say I don’t care what she thinks so I go with, ‘I’m sorry you feel that way.’

She narrows her eyes, and that’s it. I can’t believe how easy that was.

Pam drives me to the train station at about seven-thirty in her pyjamas. ‘Have a nice day now,’ she says.

It takes me another fifty minutes on the train. I walk into school as the bell sounds for roll call. Pam’s place is not really very practical. Crockett did say it was only temporary. I wonder how long I will need to stay there. Could I rent my own place? And get a job modelling?

‘You’re late today,’ Sierra says. She’s been waiting for me by the glass double-doors. ‘Did you sort things out with your dad?’

‘Kind of.’ We’re pushing along the crowded corridor. Her arm brushes against mine.

‘I thought I might drop by this arvo, so we can hang out. Maybe do our homework together or something?’

I fold my arms. ‘I won’t be there this afternoon. I’m staying at my Aunt Pam’s for a bit.’

‘Yeah, I went around to your house yesterday,’ Sierra says, and her jaw juts out, as if she knows something. I wonder if she saw any of the shit with Crockett, or how soon after that happened she might have seen my dad. When he was still on the lawn? I have a vision of him kneeling there, and I feel bad for him.

‘I met your mother,’ Sierra says.

She’s home then, I think, and I’m a bit panicked, because my mother will have a meltdown and I will cop it. Somehow. Her meltdowns have a half-life. I look at Sierra sharply, wondering if she’s taking the piss. Wondering how much my mother might have told her already. It would be just like my mother to reveal all my secrets in some sob story about how awful I am to her. I can imagine her weeping, and really seriously thinking that she has a right to do that, and that everyone should be sorry for her.

It makes me so mad that my fists clench—it has nothing to do with her. Why does she have to make
everything about her? Why couldn’t she just stay in Fiji?

I hate her. I wish she would get run over by a tractor and lie there for days, and have to chew off her own arm. Then she’d have something to cry about.

‘Good for you,’ I say through gritted teeth.

Sierra stares at me. ‘Have you got the shits or something?’

‘What? No. Yes.’ I sigh. ‘I don’t really want to talk about it now.’

Sierra stops in the corridor, and other students flow around her. ‘What did
I
do?’

‘Huh? Nothing!’ I say.

‘Why are you being so horrible to me?’ she wails.

I frown at her, confused. ‘Horrible? What are you talking about?’ I shake my head. ‘I’m not being horrible. I haven’t even thought about you.’

Her mouth drops open and her cheeks turn crimson. ‘You are so mean!’

WTF is her problem? Alex asks.

We’re going to be late to class.

‘Whatever, Sierra.’

This is how much I know about girls. I thought if Sierra was really upset, she would punch me in the face, and if she wasn’t that upset, she would go away and cool down, and realise she was overreacting, and then next time I saw her we would carry on as if this conversation had never happened. I wait for her to punch me, but she doesn’t, so I turn and head to science.

But when I get there, Julia is waiting with her phone in her hand and this thunderous face.

‘What did you say to Sierra?’

‘I didn’t say anything!’

She tilts her head just a little. ‘You do realise that she likes you, don’t you? I mean, in that way.’

I shake my head, not really sure what to say.

Julia goes on. ‘You should be grateful. She’s not even a…a you know.’

‘But I don’t like her in that way,’ I say in a small voice. ‘I just want to be her friend.’

‘What about the lick?’

‘The, oh, that. No, that was a joke, because Sierra said I was gross.’

‘She doesn’t think you’re gross now.’

I don’t answer, because I don’t know what to say.

‘You’re not exactly spoiled for choice around here, are you?’ Julia snaps. She still sits next to me, but she leans away from me, looking out the window and huffing.

After a minute or two, I turn to Julia. ‘Look, I’m sorry. I don’t really understand what has happened here. I was in a bad mood this morning, but that’s because I have my own thing going on at the moment. I don’t get why Sierra is upset, or why you are so mad with me.’

Julia glares at me. ‘Well, if you don’t get it, then obviously there is no point explaining it to you.’

40

HALFWAY THROUGH THE class I’m called to the front desk. I’m glad to be away from Julia’s oppressive glowering.

There’s a lady at reception waiting for me with her hand on her hip. I haven’t seen her before. Her badge says ‘deputy’. Sierra’s mother is on the opposite side of the counter, stickybeaking. She has a funny look on her face.

‘Alex Stringfellow?’ the deputy asks, flipping through my file. She has her glasses on a chain around her neck. She doesn’t put them on her face. She holds them up and looks through them, as if they were a magnifying glass.

‘Yes,’ Alex and I say.

‘It has been explained to you a number of times that you cannot attend this school unless you are officially enrolled.’

‘Yes, I’ve been meaning to—’

But she interrupts me. ‘Without a completed enrolment, you should not even be on these grounds. We have
no duty of care over you; you are not covered by our insurance. In short, you are a hazard.’

‘I keep forgetting to—’

‘That’s not good enough, Alex. I have left a message at home for your mother to collect you. You will leave the premises now, and you will not return without the outstanding items for your enrolment, namely’—she peers through her glasses at her notes—‘your birth certificate and vaccination schedule.’

‘You rang my mother?’ I whisper.

‘You can wait in the foyer for her to arrive.’

I stand there.

‘Well, go on then!’ the deputy says, pointing to the vinyl seats under the honour boards. But a faint wave of concern, or perhaps suspicion crosses her face. I try to make my expression smooth like the Clinique girl.

Sierra’s mother clears her throat. ‘Sorry, I couldn’t help overhearing, there’s another matter.’ Her eyes flick towards me. ‘DoCS rang about Alex’s placement.’

‘Placement?’ the deputy asks.

Sierra’s mother looks at me. ‘Your foster carer has returned your belongings to head office. She felt there was a personality clash and has asked for an alternative placement to be found for you.’ She has that expression again, a twinkle—as though she is glad.

‘Sour old bitch,’ Alex says before I can stop him.

The two women exchange a look.

‘I mean the foster lady,’ I clarify.

‘You’re in care? Since when? I have no paperwork on this.’ The deputy worries at the glasses chain around her neck. ‘This complicates everything. I suppose it’s too late to call Mrs Stringfellow and tell her not to come.’

Sierra’s mother nods slowly. ‘I would imagine so.’

The deputy slaps my file on the desk. ‘If you had been properly enrolled, we would have received prior notice from DoCS about your status, and I wouldn’t have called your mother.’ There’s silence for a moment. ‘Do you want to tell me what’s going on?’

‘Not really.’

‘It might help if I know.’

She tries to stare me down. It might work on other kids, but there is absolutely no way I’m going to tell her about the noodle.

‘If it’s a sexual thing, or a neglect or abuse thing, I need to know.’ She rubs her eyes. ‘Is there going to be a problem with your mother coming here? I mean legally? Is there an estrangement? Any restraining orders? Is it a custody matter?’

I look at my shoes.

‘For God’s sake child, spit it out. I’m going to find out in the end.’

But I say nothing.

‘This is a mess!’ She stalks back into her office.

The deputy is cranky, but not because she cares about me. She’s cranky because there will be a truckload of paperwork to do, and she’ll have to stay back, and she
won’t be able to curl up on the lounge and watch
Midsommer Murders
and down a bottle of chardonnay. Boo hoo.

I wait in the foyer in the same seat Alex and I sat in on that first day. I send a text to Crockett:

Having trouble at school. Podgy Pam ditched me. They called my mother. She is coming here. She’s going to go mental.

He doesn’t answer. He probably doesn’t even know how to text.

I don’t have any friends. Only Alex. Isn’t that pathetic?

I play Connect Four on my phone for ages. Every few seconds I look out the front door. There’s a man up a ladder in the car park. He’s changing the picture on the billboard. I can’t see the whole thing yet, but it looks like it might be an ad for the fashion parade fundraiser, and I remember the thousand dollars, still in my sock.

Don’t worry: it’s a fresh sock.

Then my mother is there in the doorway. She is wringing her hands. Her face is all crumpled. It looks as if she has only put makeup on one eye. She’s not holding it together. It looks like she’s trying to smile but she looks like a crazy horror-movie clown. She’s whispering something. She looks as if she is made up of pieces of five different women. She’s going to come in here and blurt out everything. I can tell. If she does the rolling on the floor and wailing thing, I swear, I will take to her with my steel-caps.

So I close my eyes and do my fast clapping. I know it
makes me look as if I’m autistic or something, but when I am clapping I am in my own space. Like meditating. That woman is not my mother. She’s a liar, she’s totally unpredictable and she seems absolutely intent on ruining everything that is important to me. Who does that to their own child? She’s a crazy woman. I don’t want her in my life anymore. We don’t want her anywhere near us.

BOOK: Alex as Well
11.43Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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