Dare Truth Or Promise (7 page)

Louie had got the car, along with a lecture about trust. Great, she thought, opening Willa’s gate, I’d like to tell them the truth and see how much they trust me then. She hugged her coat closer. She had bought an old suede jacket at an op shop last week, and it was like wearing a saddle. It was warm though, and looked like something she might have thrown on as she went out the door. In fact Louie had tried on absolutely everything she owned to go under it. In the end she’d opted for a dark top and black jeans.

The door opened as she raised her hand. A woman with red hair and a dish of dog food stood there with Judas. Judas immediately barked at Louie, but he was quickly distracted by the food and went back to the woman.

“Hello, a beatnik!” she said. “Calm down, Judas.”

Louie almost looked behind her. The woman laughed a deep, throaty chuckle. “You must be here for Willa.”

Louie nodded, and tried to pat Judas, but he ducked away from her and followed his dish. The woman placed the bowl on the concrete. Then she turned to Louie.

“I’m Jolene, Willa’s mum.”

“Louie. Louie Angelo.”

“Come in.” Jolene, who showed no traces of her country and western background in a mohair jersey and polyester slacks, led Louie to the stairs. Through the glass doors off the hall Louie could see and hear the bar and she hoped none of the rugby guys from the other night could see her.

Willa was in the kitchen upstairs. Jolene walked in first, and announced, “There she is. Sixties,” she said, gesturing to Louie, “meet the seventies!” And she shut the door behind her.

Willa was wearing a long, embroidered coat that fell around her ankles, and tooled leather boots. Her hair was loose, with just a brightly-coloured scarf holding it off her face. Louie shook her head, confused.

“What’s she on about? Sixties, seventies? And what’s a beatnik?”

Willa laughed like her mother and shrugged. “Hey, I love that jacket. And it’s perfect for where we’re going.”

“Which is?” Louie sat down but stood up again immediately. The argument with her parents was gone; she was suddenly excited.

“Now that would be telling. It’s a dare, remember?” Willa smiled at her and stood up too. “You drive and I’ll navigate, okay?”

“Deal.”

p.


It was dark and warm, a strange nor’west wind rippling over the hills, as Louie and Willa motored over the open road south of the city. All around was farmland, and the occasional whiff of sheep or silage made them screw up their faces and buzz the windows shut in a hurry. Louie drove fast to please Willa and smooth round the bends, over rises, down dips. “Hang a right,” Willa said at one point, then “left, to the end of the road,” then “right, and right again.” There were no houses where she’d led Louie. There were no lights, just the vacuous black bucket of the sky punctured by sharp white stars. Finally, Willa directed her down a long gravel road and they parked in what appeared to be a patch of farmland in the middle of nowhere.

“What is this?” Louie shook her head, puzzled. “Are we meeting a
UFO
or what?”

“Something like that.” Willa jumped out of the car. Louie shrugged to herself and followed. To her right she suddenly noticed there were lights—coloured lights.

“Willa, what’s…?” They looked familiar. Blue lights, several of them as she looked harder. And further away some red ones and a building. The wind buffeted her off balance for a moment.

“It’s the airport,” she said out loud, realising. “It’s the airport, isn’t it, and that—that’s the runway!”

Willa was striding away into the black. “Yep. Come on, over here.”

“I don’t believe this. I do not believe it.” Louie broke into a jog and strained her eyes to see where Willa had gone. A few hundred metres across paddocks and over a wire fence, she caught up with her.

“There,” Willa said with satisfaction. “There she is.”

Louie followed her gaze. They stood about a paddock’s length away from the end of the runway, staring straight down the two lines of neon blue spots. At the far end of it were the flashing red and white lights of an airplane coasting into position.

“Oh shit. Oh my god. Is that thing going to take off? It is, isn’t it?” Louie looked at Willa, her heart already beginning to pump. “You’re mad. You’re absolutely bloody crazy. This is your idea of fun?”

Willa was transfixed by the sight of the plane. They could hear its engines in the distance—the combination of roar and whine that always thrilled Louie.

“You wait,” Willa whispered, and Louie looked at her for a moment, noting the fix of her eyes, the tension around her jawline and the little vein pulsing at her temple.
I am out oj control,
she thought.
If she asked me to throw myself under a jumbo’s wheels I’d say front or back ones?

The plane had come to a halt, facing them. For the first time Louie saw that planes had white headlights shining from their undercarriage. She felt like a possum caught in their light. “Do you think he can see us?” she whispered. “The pilot, I mean?”

Willa didn’t answer. The engines whirred ferociously, and the plane began to move forward. At her side, Willa’s hand found Louie’s, and they stood, frozen to the spot.

At first it seemed incredibly slow, as if it were just rolling towards them, and Louie could make out people in the flight deck, dimly lit. Then suddenly the lights at the end of each wing flashed violently, wider and wider, and Louie could see for the first time the body of the plane, its bulk bearing down on them, rushing at them, huge wings outstretched. The sound was overwhelming, shrieking at them, blaring. Louie wanted to cover her ears, but she didn’t want to let go of Willa’s hand. She dug in her nails as the plane ate up the runway, murderous. Just as her legs began to dissolve, the white lights at the front lifted, and a blast of hot air and thunderous noise burst from under the aircraft. It screeched above them, its white body burning through the air and the surrounding blackness wobbling in its heat. The smell of burning rubber and exhaust filled Louies nostrils and mouth, which was open and screaming now, screaming for all she was worth.

She was jumping too, jumping up, down and around, and then her arms were around Willa, squeezing her, still yelling and whooping, and Willa was yelling back. They leapt about in a circle for a bit before Louie realised that she actually had her arms round Willa,
embracing
her, and she decided not to let go.

To let go would mean to wait until she had this good an excuse again, and she didn’t know when that might be. Louie couldn’t bear it anymore.
To hell with it,
she thought,
to hell with it.
They stopped jumping and turning, they stopped yelling, and Louie gripped on to Willa, hugged tighter even, and buried her head in her shoulder. Her heart was still thumping, and she could feel Willa’s too, like a bird’s belting against her ribcage.

Then Willa’s arms moved, and Louie caught her breath in fear, terrified she would pull away. She didn’t. Her hand cupped Louie’s head, ran down the back of her hair, her neck, and lay cool and gentle under her collar. Her other arm moved lightly up her back and rested there. What a difference, the quality of the touch, the subtle shift in placement, that turned a hug into a hold. Louie wanted to cry, to weep with relief. She relaxed her wrestling grip and leaned into Willa, nuzzled her heavy hair, felt the soft skin under her ear, breathed in her smell.

When Willa turned and kissed her, Louie thought in her head,
this is my first kiss.
It wasn’t, of course, she’d kissed a number of boys, and done more too, but she’d never, ever felt as if she were falling off a cliff. She’d never before felt as if her body were being turned to water from the inside out, or as if they were both whirling through space into an airless black vortex. Louie felt all these things, and above all, a disbelief, a wild, terrifying disbelief that this should be happening—no, not that she was in love with a girl, for it seemed suddenly absolutely natural that she should be in love with this girl—but that, god only knew how, this girl should love her back!

It was Willa who finally pulled away, who said, looking at the ground, “Do I shock you?”

Louie reached and touched her cheek, frowning and smiling together. “No, Willa. You don’t shock me.”

Willa turned slightly away and sat on the ground. An icicle slid down Louie’s back.
Don’t turn away, not now, please.

She crouched down beside Willa and looked beyond her into the invisible distance. “I didn’t think this could happen. This,” she said, gesturing like her father, palms upward, “—it just blows me away. I didn’t dare believe you might be feeling the same.”

“Ohhh,” Willa groaned, and swung back to her. “You didn’t guess? God, Louie, I haven’t been able to think of anything else since the day I met you.”

“Really?” Louie was delighted. She touched Willa’s arm, her shoulder in its embroidered coat. It was so strange, so new to do that, and Louie felt awkward suddenly, as if she didn’t know how.

“Louie,” Willa wrapped her arms around her knees and stared back down the empty runway. “There’s something I have to tell you.” Her voice was strained, choked. She turned to Louie, who was feeling that same icicle slide down her back. “This isn’t the first. I’ve had a … a relationship before.”

Louie blinked. “With a woman?”

“Her name was Cathy. She was my best friend at Miller Park. It happened in the Christmas holidays.” Willa’s arm jerked as she pulled at some grass and Louie heard the tuff, tuff of it coming away. “Neither of us were really sure about it. Well, Cathy got pretty weird, and I tried to end it, then she got more upset. I just didn’t know what to do, what she wanted me to do. Does this make any sense?”

Louie nodded.

“I really ended it back in February, but every now and then she’d spin out and I’d get a panic call. She was freaked out by her family. They’re fundamentalists, and she was terrified her stepfather would find out. Also she thought God was going to send her to eternal damnation or something.”

Louie snorted a little, then wondered what the Catholic Church’s view would be. She had a fair idea.

“One day, a few months ago now,” Willa continued, “I got this phone call from her and I went around. She was in a mess and I was just hugging her, you know, not doing anything, and her weird stepbrother came in. Keith. He was always hanging around. Anyway, he went berserk and started all this arm waving and calling down God and so on, and next thing I know all their family are there, and Cathy’s taking their side. They called the school, they called my mother, it was hideous.”

“Oh, Willa.”

She turned to Louie fiercely “I want you to know this. I want you to know everything, and then if you don’t want to have anything to do with me, go now. Go now, Louie, because I can’t help what I feel.”

This time Louie touched her without awkwardness, she held her close and Willa clung to her. “I’m not afraid, Willa,” she said. “I love you, and I’m not afraid of that.”
 


Judas knew about hats too. As soon as she shoved the black hat on her head he began leaping about and sniffing at the door. Willa ignored him. She looked again at the photo Louie had given her. It was a picture of the two of them in a held, an enormous blurred aeroplane behind them. Louie was crouched, laughing, her hands over her ears, and Willa was jumping high, one arm outstretched, the other out of the picture as if she was being snatched away by someone invisible. They’d been back at the airport several times now, and the last time Louie had brought her super-duper automatic everything camera and set it up on a fence post to take photos of them. Willa carefully put it back in her wallet just as the phone rang.

It was Louie.

“When are you coming?” she asked.

“I was just about to leave.”

“Good.”

“Why, am I late?”

“No, no.” Louie lowered her voice. “I just wanted to hear your voice, that’s all. Dad’s had another argument with Marietta so she’ll be grumpy.”

“Oh great.”

“It’s all right, no one takes any notice of her. Nic’s arrived too. Must have smelt the cooking. Anyway, come soon, please.”

“I’m on my way.”

“Judas?”

“He’s coming too. Is that all right?”

“Yep, fine. See you then.”

“See you.” Willa was smiling to herself.

“Bye.

“Bye.

“Au revoir.”

“Louie, this is dumb. I’ll be there in ten minutes.” Willa hung up and hustled Judas out the door.

p.


Tony Angelo was in expansive mode. He waved his arms in welcome to Willa, he laughed and seemed delighted by the addition of Judas, he even included them both in an unconventional Grace before the meal. Willa smiled politely but sat through it with her eyes open. Marietta glowered at everyone like a squat little volcano. Nic concentrated on eating as much as possible—his foray into student hatting was a severe disappointment in the food stakes, and next year they’d resolved to get some female—preferably Applied Science female—flatmates. He was delighted to hear that Willa was doing professional cookery. Louie was nervous, Willa could tell, and talked in competition with her father, loudly interrupting his stories to correct or admonish him, capping them with funnier ones of her own. Tony popped open bottles of wine in punctuation to their banter. They did a great double act.

It was Susi who worried Willa. She was the perfect hostess, quietly plying everyone with more food and slipping back and forth from the kitchen with dish after dish of culinary delights. Her cooking was fantastic. Busy though she was, Susi’s careful eye was at work continually On several occasions Willa had caught Susi regarding her thoughtfully, and the rest of the time she watched Louie with a mixture of pleasure and concern. As she laughed at Louies ebullience Susi’s eyes would flicker about the table, always stopping at Willa two or three times, and Louie herself couldn’t glance at Willa without Susi’s immediate scrutiny.
She knows,
Willa thought,
somehow she knows.

“This is wonderful, Mrs. Angelo,” Willa volunteered, tasting the dessert. “What’s in it?”