Dessi's Romance (22 page)

‘You mean, because we can’t
run away?’

‘Something like that.’

‘Gross. Who’d think like
that?’

‘Inadequate guys.’

I half turn to stare at
Abdul who is presently concentrating on backing out the drive. Does he think
this way? Surely he likes me for what I am. But what if it’s only because of
this ankle? He pulls up in the same parking spot as last time.

The parking lot is
deserted.

I say, ‘You promised to
tell more about Antler.’

‘Sure. What do you what to
know?’

I can only marvel at how
the further he gets away from his family, how he turns back into the person I
love. Dr. Jekyll and Mr Hyde? As he helps me into the rear, I say, ‘Tell me how
Antler got to be your best friend.’

‘The whole school split
into gangs, and Antler was boss of the Anglos. We had Wogs, Slopes, and Lebos.
The Wogs were so tough they beat the shit out of everyone. Antler decided it
was a good idea for Anglos and Lebos to get together to tackle them.’

‘It worked?’

‘It worked. Antler said I
was okay for a Lebo. We liked each other so we stayed friends.’

‘Has he ever had a job?’

‘Antler? I once offered to
pay him to check out some garage sales but anything a.m. is out.’

‘So how do they survive?’

‘The dole... a few deals...
this and that.’ He looks at me curiously. ‘How about you? What was it like
being in the top clique?’

I blink. ‘How do you know
we were?’

‘Two pretty Anglo girls in
a suburban high school. Course you were.’ He slides my top over my head and
covers my mouth with his. For a moment Emma’s face flickers between us.

I know he kissed Emma, and
maybe more…lots of stuff she didn’t tell me. What’ll she say when she hears
what I’m doing right now?

But as those sensitive
fingers run down my body, I can no longer resist him. So with his tongue
exploring my mouth, his hands on my breasts, my thighs, my arms now around his,
this time I’m more than ready.

Sensing this, he removes my
skirt and knickers, slips off his jock and presses himself against me. I hear a
rustle, then he’s inside… and… and it hurts…

‘Oh!’ I utter an
involuntary cry.

He quickly draws back.

‘No go on, go on,’ I
murmur, because now I’m sure that he’s my one true love and I will never give
him up... no, no, never…

No, no,
never… rushes through my mind. Julie might complain about small aches and
pains, and visit too many health professionals, but she’s never been seriously
sick. Our conversation ricochets in my brain, and I can still hear her fear:

‘…got
the results yesterday, Emma. It’s…it’s definitely cancer. Oh my God! And the
worst part is that I might have passed the bad gene on to you. Now, as soon as
you come back from your holiday, you’re to have a mammogram…’

The woman on the reception
desk helps me book a flight home. The plane leaves next morning and that flight
is horribly expensive but I don’t care. I still have most of my winnings. Back
in the apartment I’m so relieved that the others haven’t returned. My mind
won’t stop racing and all I feel is total dread. I now remember when Julie
first mentioned something might be wrong, how at the time I viewed it as once
again her seeking attention. I can’t believe how unsympathetic I was. Now she’s
going to need all the support I can give her. To think that until now all I was
fretting about was Abdul being cold and Dessi managing without me. Now I
really
have something to worry about.

I take a stubby out onto
the balcony. The night is balmy and a full moon makes the ocean shimmer and
glow. The door opens and I steel myself in case it’s Sacha, and of course it
is. ‘Hi.’ He flops down beside me. ‘Did you get my note?’

‘Note? What note?’

‘About dinner tonight,’ he
murmurs, crestfallen. ‘Your dad paid me cash.’ He produces a bunch of notes.
‘What do you say?’

Anything would be better
than sitting here brooding. ‘Okay.’

‘I’ve booked us a table.’
He’s openly delighted.

Only once we’re seated,
does it occur to me to wish I’d bothered to dress a little better. I’m still in
my favourite Vinnies’ dress, but the other diners are really glamorous. One
glance at the menu tells me that Sacha will be blowing his whole day’s pay on
this meal. This makes me feel guiltier than ever. I’m being so unkind. Yet what
else can I do? Any softening on my part and I’ll only build up his false hopes.

I wake up he’s saying,
‘…and your Dad said he knows a real estate agent up here and he reckons he’ll
give me a reference if I need one. Emma?’

‘Sorry. What did you say?’
I make an effort to listen, but all I see are lips mouthing words.

‘What’s up, Emma?’ He
reaches across and takes my hand.

Tears fill my eyes. ‘It’s
not
you
,’ I assure
him. ‘I’ve had some bad news,’ and I tell him about Julie. ‘I’m going home
tomorrow.’

‘That’s awful,’ he says
quietly. “I guess that means you won’t be coming back.’

‘I don’t see how, she has
no one else. Just me, really.’

Neither of us is interested
in dessert so we end up leaving the restaurant and walking along the beach. The
surf is sonorous. Soothing. Watching waves wash onto the sand in little eddies
like paint spilling out of a jar, helps calm me a little. We sprawl on the
beach.

Sacha props himself up on
an elbow. ‘I guess you’ll see that Lebanese guy when you get back?’

‘You know I will.’ But my
voice is firmer than I feel.

Why was Abdul so distant?

‘So where does that leave
me?’

I just shake my head. If
only I hadn’t given him false expectations.

‘Everything’s changed for
me. He stares out to sea. ‘I don’t know why I thought I might be gay. It was
just others saying so. And now... now I think I’m in love with you.’

Oh hell! Why is it always
the wrong guy saying the right thing?

‘You must feel
something
for me, Em. Don’t
you?’

Can I be so cruel as to say
that I wish I’d never slept with him, never given into both our distress?
Whatever I say can only disrupt our friendship and that’s the last thing I
want. ‘Let’s go back to the unit,’ I say at last. ‘I’m really tired. Tell Jon
he can have my bed as of tomorrow.’

When we get there, Sacha
goes into the living room to bunk down on the floor. I’m very relieved. I need
tonight to be on my own.

I really need to be alone. So after
Abdul drops me, I’m relieved to see the windows are dark. As my first lover
he’s been the best. I couldn’t have asked for anyone gentler and more
experienced. The fact that I’m totally besotted probably helped. Even I realise
how infatuated I am. Nevertheless, knowing from others how unpleasant, even painful,
first time sex can be, I can hardly wait to climb into bed and relive the whole
experience.

I’m wrong. At the back of
the house, the kitchen light is still on. Late at night with unexplained
shadows flickering over the walls, this house is scary. As something scuttles
under a skirting board, I teeter in fright.

Hannah comes into the hall.
‘Dessi, why so late?’

I gulp. Can she tell
something important has happened to me? That I’m now different? ‘It’s okay,
Mum,’ I rush in. ‘Abdul’s safe. He’s not like Jon. He’d never do anything
stupid.’

‘Really?’ Hannah tightens her
dressing-gown cord. ‘If he’s really so sensible, when do you intend coming
clean with Emma?’

I inwardly groan. ‘Mu-um,
must we? I’m tired.’

But I can’t shake her off.
‘How about a mug of cocoa? You can sleep in tomorrow.’

In the kitchen I watch her move
from fridge to microwave, pushing her hair back in that familiar endearing
gesture. She says, ‘How long have Julie and myself, you and Emma been friends?’

I shrug.

‘Since long before you were
born.’ She hands me a mug. ‘Lots of nice men out there. Not as if Abdul’s
background is similar. Not only will you antagonise your best friend, you’re
entering an alien culture.’

Mr Malouf’s angry face
flickers through my mind. I defy it to cry, ‘We’re both Aussies, aren’t we?’

‘Course you are. But you’ve
been bought up here and Abdul’s family is Lebanese. No matter how Aussie he
might think he is, he’s split between two cultures. Relationships, even those
from a similar background are hard enough to maintain. Imagine what extra
tension this will add to yours.’

‘You mean like you and
Dad?’

She flushes. ‘Right now
we’re under a lot of strain. But yes, that’s exactly what I mean.’

‘You’re not going to split,
are you?’

Startled, she looks up.
‘What makes you think that?’

‘You never stop fighting.’

‘We’ve a lot on our plate.
Still, we’re not planning a divorce...’ She gives me a wry smile, ‘Least…not
yet.’

But only yesterday I
overheard her say, ‘If things are so tight, why didn’t you wait till next
year?’

‘I keep telling you,’
Graham replied. ‘That way I got paid out best.’

‘But if we aren’t ready
financially...’

‘We can, if we cut our
expenses. Live very simply.’

Hannah’s voice rose in
exasperation. ‘We still have to eat. And there’s Jeremy’s school and Dessi’s
HEC fees.’

‘Once we sell this house,
things’ll be easier.’

‘All this effort and mess.
You don’t even know if you’ll get your money back. Why can’t we sell this house
as it is?’

‘Because renovated, we’ll
double the profit.’ And suddenly calm, peace-loving Graham lost his cool.
‘Look,’ he yelled. ‘If you don’t like it, you can always leave…’

I wake up Hannah is saying,
‘...what about Abdul’s family. You sure they’re happy?’

This being too close for
comfort, I whine, ‘Why can’t you ever approve of what I do?’

She shrugs. ‘As your
mother, I feel I should be offering you advice.’

‘But I don’t want anyone’s
advice,’ I moan. ‘I just want you to understand me.’

She comes over to wrap her
arms around me. ‘This conversation reminds me of when I first told your
grandfather that I was marrying your father. He nearly had a fit. How could I
even consider marrying someone so much older?’

‘That’s terrible when Dad’s
so nice.’

Outside the window, a gust
of wind shakes the bushes and rattles the doors as if past ghosts –
Abdul’s? Mine? – demand some say in this affair as well.

She sends me to bed. But
then I dream about being shipwrecked, icy water entering my throat and lungs.
The sensation of being dragged down by powerful forces over which I have no
control is so overwhelming, it takes me ages to realise that it’s only a dream.

Next morning I wake with an
inexplicable memory gnawing at me. Didn’t Abdul say Antler was in Perth? Then
how come he suddenly turns up here? Something feels wrong. What if Abdul is
lying? But why would he do a thing like that?

I close my eyes to relive
the events of the previous night. I’m so in love, I can’t believe that this is
real. When I think about all that’s happened to me in less than a week, I can
only see my life as before Abdul and after. It’s as if an emotional earthquake
or tsunami has overtaken me. Surely a love like ours must last forever.

But what if it doesn’t?

In the clear light of day,
I’m forced to admit that there’s too much I don’t understand. How torn is
Abdul between being an Aussie and his family’s expectations? Surely being a
third year uni-student and running a business makes him totally independent.
But what if he isn’t? It’s hard to ignore how different he is within his own
family. Hard to ignore how much they dislike him taking me out. What with
deceiving my best friend and moving into another culture, there’s so much
against me, it should act as a turn-off. But in a weird way, all those
negatives involve me even more. Does Abdul feel the same? What will I do if he
doesn’t?

Underlying all this is my
permanent concern about Emma. But what kind of friend am I? How can I keep on
pretending that cheating doesn’t turn my friendship into a fraud? How often
have we heard about other best friends splitting? How often have we
congratulated ourselves that we’re much too close to ever let anything come
between us? I can’t get Emma’s sketches of knives sticking out of starving
hollow-eyed children out of my mind. I can’t get away from the idea that if
Emma finds out Abdul has dumped her, that she might do something unforgivable.
Then it will be my fault. As Hannah did remind me, I could always have tried to
ignore the attraction.