Dessi's Romance (15 page)

‘Ah!’ Mrs Malouf nods.
‘Hurt much.’ She says something to Abdul. He snaps back in Lebanese. Mr Malouf
raises his voice. Abdul glowers. Mrs Malouf quickly appeases both men.

I pray for the floor to
open under me. I think I know what that little scene was about. Though I do my
best to catch Abdul’s eye, he’s fallen into a sulk. I make an effort to pull
myself together. ‘What are they saying?’ I ask Abdul.

At first he refuses to
answer. Then suddenly, he smiles. That smile is like the sun reappearing from
behind thick cloud. ‘Mum is at Dad to fix up the bathroom.’

I turn to Mrs Malouf to
say, ‘My father is renovating our house.’

‘So?’ Mr Malouf understands
perfectly, because he frowns and says something quickly to Abdul who says, ‘Dad
wants to know who’s doing it for him?’

‘He’s doing it himself.’

Now everyone talks at once.

‘What’s going on?’

Abdul’s smile broadens.
‘Mum wants Dad to get a builder, and he says it’s too expensive and she has to
wait till he gets time to do it himself.’

My lips twitch. Seems both
families have more in common than either might care to admit.

Shortly after, Abdul asks
if I’d like to see his room. Relieved at any excuse to escape, we go in there.
He closes the door, and pushes me onto the bed. I try to talk to him about his
parents’ open antagonism, but he stops any questions with kisses. My top is
halfway off when the door opens. To my intense embarrassment, grandfather steps
into the room. He ignores me and mumbles something to Abdul.

Abdul answers him angrily.
But he jumps up, saying, ‘Phone. Don’t go away…’ and ducks into the passage.

What can be so important?
While he’s away I adjust my clothes and inspect his bookshelf. No fiction. Only
textbooks with titles like
Quantum Physics
and
Advanced Calculus
. Eager to know more, I check out his
DVD’s. Mostly R & B and some old time jazz. Some Middle-Eastern titles.

I’m starting to wonder
where he’s got to, when he returns and says, ‘Let’s get out of here, huh?’

He leads me back into the
living room where I thank his family for the meal. Abdul’s mother gives me a
grudging smile. His father’s eyes stay fixed on the TV. Their opposition to my
being here hasn’t changed. Surely Abdul knew they would feel this way? He
still won’t explain why he brought me, but his face is so angry I don’t dare
question him.

He helps me out the front
door and into his van. I wait for him to close my door, climb into the
driver’s seat and drive down the street and turn into the highway before
breaking the silence. Now I’m determined to find out more. But his face is so
grim I’m not brave enough to question him. Instead I say, ‘Isn’t it hard for
your dad? You know, speaking so little English. How does he manage at work?’

Abdul’s expression softens
slightly. ‘Loads of Lebos work at that hospital. Apart from Lebanese he speaks
Arabic and French. He claims that’s enough for him. I’m always at him to go to
language classes but he claims he’s too busy.’

‘What did they do before
they came here?’

‘Much the same. Dad was
always a lab technician. Mum was a nurse.’

He drives into a vacant lot
and turns off the engine. Because I want him to open up more about his family,
I say, ‘When my dad was at uni, he was a student activist. That was how he met
Mum and then they got married. What’s your parents’ story? How did they get
together?’

His shoulders visibly
tighten. ‘Their marriage was arranged.’

‘Wonder what that’d be
like,’ I muse.

‘Okay for them. Anyway, it
was fixed up long before they met.’ His set expression forbids me to say any
more.

‘What about your brother?’

He wipes a windscreen
starting to fog up. ‘Oh, Jamila, she’s Ahmed’s wife; she’s all right.’

‘I’d like to meet them some
time.’

‘Sure. I’ll arrange it.’
But there are other things on his mind. Mine too. He squeezes up beside me.
Delicately, carefully, turning my head so we’re face to face, he places his
mouth on mine. Skin, tongue, breasts, hands overly receptive, I taste his
toothpaste and catch that subtle male smell that owes nothing to outside
influences. My heart turns over.

‘Come on.’ He opens my door
and helps me into the rear. An old mattress lines the floor, and I briefly
wonder how many girls he’s brought here before. There are also boxes filled
with crockery I assume come from garage buys and sales. He slides me onto the
mattress and settles himself by my left side. ‘That comfortable?’ he says
hoarsely.

‘I’m fine, just fine…’

A few minutes later when we
both come up for air, he pulls back and stares into my eyes. ‘This okay?’

‘Course.’ My answer is
breathless.

He slides my top over my
head, pulls down my skirt and covers my mouth with his. As those clever hands
run down my body, they’re as gentle as I always thought they’d be, tuning me
like a violin or a cello. So as his tongue explores my mouth, I’m more than
ready to continue. Sensing this, he pulls down my knickers easing them over my boot,
slips off his jock and presses against me.

For a moment Emma’s face
hangs between us. Did he do this with her? How come he’s forgotten her so quickly?
What would she say if she could see me now?

Suddenly I realise that
this is just too soon.

I’m just not ready…

Absolutely not!

‘No.’ I push him off.

He draws away. ’Uh sorry…
thought you wanted to…’

‘I do…I do,’ I softly cry.
‘But…maybe not yet.’

‘This your first time? You
haven’t before?’

I nod and shake my head. I
feel such a fool. What’s more, I really, really want him. I have no idea why I
chickened out. ‘I will… I will.’ My voice is hoarse. ‘But I need more time.’
Such a feeble excuse, I search wildly for another. ‘My ankle. It kind of makes
things hard.’

‘Sure. No probs.’

I quickly pull my clothes
back on, and we return to the front seat. But disappointment hangs between us
like a third person. I feel terrible. What’ll he think of me now?

Neither Kaz nor Jodie worry
at all about what anyone is thinking, they’re too busy eating. After all the
dips, bread-rolls, cold meat and salad vanish, Laura drives us back to the
unit. Before we climb out of the Jeep she calls, ‘Don’t forget tomorrow’s
cruise. Bring bathers.’

‘Fantastic,’
Jodie calls back, but I notice there’s no mention of repayment for the medical
supplies.

Inside the
apartment, Kaz turns to me. ‘Where’s Sacha? What happened last night?’

‘Nothing,’ I say
quickly. ‘I’m going to the beach. Want a walk?’

‘Nah. Rather
prop here.’

I don’t bother
hiding my irritation. We’re not doing anything apart from sitting around
drinking. So I pull out my sketchbook and set about drawing another view. But I
could be doing this in Melbourne from any high-rise balcony, only of course the
sea here is different, so vast and aquamarine.

I manage only a
few lines before putting down my pad. Things aren’t turning out the way I’d
hoped. I’m so missing Dessi. If only she was here, this holiday would be
totally different. We would do so much together. Maybe hop on the bus and go
down to Byron Bay or Brisbane. Or bus north to Noosa. How can I make a serious
decision about moving north if I don’t get a feel for the place? The only
consolation is that Dessi’s email didn’t sound too depressed. But still… stuck
in that old house with a broken ankle, I can’t blame her for feeling low.

I go back into
my room to discover a delicate bunch of creamy white frangipani on my pillow. I
know they’re from Sacha. They remind me of Chagall’s
Woman on Roses
where a beautiful nude
hovers over a vase of exquisite flowers. Not wanting to put them on display in
the living room, I place them in a toothbrush glass. Passing the bathroom
mirror, I pause to study my reflection. This far north my hair has taken on an
unwanted kink, but my skin looks soft and fresh. Placing the flowers on my
bedside table, I wonder what Sacha’s gesture means…really means.

‘Hey Em?’ Kaz
calls from the living room. ‘Guess who’s here?’

For a mad moment
I think Dessi’s turned up. Rushing out, I walk straight into Jon McKenna.
‘Shit!’ I yelp in a rush of disappointment. ‘What do you want?’

‘Be nice, Em,’
he moans, his usual arrogance gone. ‘Got a bit of a problem.’

‘What’s new,’ I
snarl taking in his red eyes, two day growth stubble and pallid complexion.

Kaz goes
bug-eyed and heads for the balcony.

‘You wouldn’t
have a beer, would you?’

‘No way! Didn’t
you bring some?’

He shakes his
head like a desolate bloodhound. How could I ever have persuaded Dessi to go
out with him? Or even get into his car? I so wish I hadn’t.

‘Nah,’ he moans,
‘an’ I got this real head…’

I give in and
the bloodhound follows me to the fridge. ‘What’s wrong now?’

‘Got chucked out
of the unit. Don’t suppose I could crash here?’

‘No way,’ though
the temptation to sketch his greenish complexion and hangdog face is truly
compelling. ‘We’re full up.’

‘What about the
couch? Look, I’m really low…’ Sucking on his stubby, he’s a baby about to burst
into tears.

Why is this
decision up to me? ‘Oh, talk to Kaz,’ I mutter and turn away. Just then Sacha
walks in. He and Jon bristle at each other.

‘What you doing
here, McKenna?’ Sacha’s voice is tough.

Jon pulls
himself together. ‘Same as you, ya poofter. Lookin’ for somewhere to bludge.’

‘I’m no
poofter.’ Sacha’s voice is dangerously quiet.

‘Ya pansy.’ Jon
isn’t too sick to yell. ‘No secret, is it?

Right off Sacha
is on to him. They grapple with each other and fall to the floor. Kaz rushes in
from the balcony. ‘What’s going on? Stop it, you two! Stop acting like feral
pigs!’ She jumps onto Sacha. ‘Em… help me get him off.’

Between us, we
manage to drag Sacha off Jon, whose nose is bleeding from a lucky punch.

‘You want to get
us thrown out?’ Kaz rages. ‘I’ve had it up to here. What with Jodes, you two
fighting, and this room turning into a tip.’ Her gesture takes in dirty cups,
empty stubbies and discarded food cartons. ‘Grow up, everyone.’

‘This is just
great,’ I yell, my cubist woman coming to the fore. ‘My Dad’s organised for us
to go on this cruise tomorrow and you’re all chucking wobblies. I’ve a good
mind to cancel.’

McKenna hauls
himself up from the floor. ‘What cruise?’

‘Shut it,
McKenna. You’re not invited.’ Sacha says meanly. There’s something different
about him, too. What is it? Then I realise he’s taken off those earrings and
his stance is far more aggressive.

Kaz strides out
to the balcony. Jodie follows her. We hear snuffles and then a few giggles.

Sacha comes over
to give me a hug. ‘How about dinner tonight?’

McKenna’s chin
just about drops to the floor.

‘Okay. Why not,’
I say as if going out with Sacha is the thing to do.

Jon’s mouth
hangs open. ‘You two an item?’

‘None of your
business.’ Sacha’s tone is casual. ‘Why don’t you piss off?’

‘Got nowhere to
piss off to.’ Jon’s face falls into weird geometric lines.

The others
overhear. ‘Guess he’d better stay here then,’ says Kaz. ‘He can sleep on the
couch.’

Sacha gives me a
meaningful look. ‘We’re out tonight,’ he tells Kaz. ‘Emma and me.’

‘Well, thanks
for including us.’ Kaz’s tone is heavy with sarcasm.

‘It’s okay,
Kaz.’ Jodie’s face is doleful. ‘I can’t drink anyway. Let’s get a video and
takeaway.’

‘Okay,’ says
Kaz. ‘Pizza do?’

‘Yes, please.’
Jodie’s smile is so grateful, she’s totally pathetic. ‘And maybe some Coke and
a couple of Mars Bars.’

Kaz grabs her
purse and heads out. Jodie flops on the couch. I go to get changed and a very
subdued Jon settles in front of the TV.

I settle more comfortably into the
van’s passenger seat. Abdul fires the engine and says, ‘Call into Chapel’s,
huh?’

‘Great.’ I’m so thankful
he’s still talking, I manage through dry lips, ‘I’m so… so very sorry…’ my
voice trails away.

‘Maybe next time,’ he says
casually.

‘Course. Guess I just have
to get used to the idea...’ But I’m quite aware of how lame this sounds.

We drive in silence. I
can’t believe what I’ve done, I’ve just rejected the first guy I’ve ever loved.
And he’s been so good about it. Anyone else would’ve acted like Jon on our
second date. I think back to what happened. Though Jon made no move on our
first date, and though I still thought him a jerk, he seemed so keen, I
reluctantly agreed. We were in the front of his car when he went to grab me, I
ducked, and my hip hit the door handle. ‘Oh hell!’ I yelped.