Dessi's Romance (29 page)

A long silence that seems
to go on forever.

My heart skips a beat when
someone picks up the phone.

‘Dessi, I’m sorry.’ Julie
sounds tired. ‘She still won’t speak to you.’

‘What do I do now?’

‘Dear, I really can’t say.
You know what’s she’s like. Why don‘t you come here? Beard her on her own
turf?’

‘What if she slams the door
in my face?’

Julie sounds heartily sick
of the whole affair. ‘Nothing ventured, nothing gained.’

Good advice. Only I don’t
feel brave enough to try it. At least, not yet.

That night my dreams are
more vivid than usual. In one dream we have finally reconciled and we’re
hugging each other as if our embrace will never end.

But in my last dream just
before I wake, Abdul is saying over and over again ‘Dessi, my love, my one and
only love, it should have been you… it should have been you… it should have
been you…’

A few weeks later Graham drives me to
Monash University to enrol. I choose my subjects very carefully. History and
English. Instead of Psychology, which I’d always intended to take, I write
Philosophy. Surely all those great thinkers might have some answer for my
previous dilemmas and present unhappiness. As I wander through buildings filled
with students, cafes, shops, I know a mix of excitement and dread. What if no
one talks to me? What if I find it too hard to manage such a vast campus on a
weak ankle?

To my relief, everyone is
sympathetic to a student who uses a walking stick and limps. Back home, I get
started on some of my textbooks but some of the material is too complicated for
me to manage alone. Instead, I start to notice that the world has moved on. For
the first time since the accident, I read newspapers, and get Dad to drive me
to the library where I take out more books, watch the news, plug into the net,
join dinner-table discussions.

Now that I’ve met Abdul, my
passion evaporates as quickly as it came. I recognise that what I felt for him
was infatuation with little basis in reality. More like payback for being stuck
at home while the others were in Surfers having fun. And of course, a great
deal of sexual curiosity. Though Abdul used me for his own needs, I can’t help
feeling sorry for him. Can I believe that he really fell in love with me? Thinking
back to our meeting in Carlton, I think he did. But how awful to know in
advance that your whole life has been mapped out by others. How dreadful to
know that if you don’t follow the family rules that you’ll be totally rejected,
and that not only you but your entire family will suffer. It would take a
braver person than Abdul to overcome those odds. So in the end I just feel
sorry for him. If Abdul was thinking of more people than himself, isn’t his
stance just another form of courage? I wish I knew. These days there’s only a
hole in my heart waiting for someone else to fill. Whenever I feel too depressed
and lonely, Leila reminds me that this will surely happen.

But the gap Emma has left
can never be filled. Though Leila is a wonderful caring friend, she hasn’t
known me since we were babies. Barely a day goes past without me missing my old
best friend. Sometimes I wonder if my feelings of loss aren’t similar to coping
with an unexpected death. In some ways, hasn’t my closest friend died? Other
times, as I recall all those silly intimate things I used to confide to Emma, I
feel my cheeks redden. What if Emma is talking about me to someone else? What
if they’re laughing at me?

One day when there’s
nothing much else to do, I browse through Great-aunt Lilbet’s scrap books. She
wrote:

Why do I love you?

Why do you love me?

Because we are the very best of
friends.

Thank you for everything

Those two certainly knew what
friendship is all about. Maybe these scrapbooks are telling me something
important. To the aunts, being friends was everything. For me, my friendship
with Emma is fundamental to my wellbeing. And if that’s the case, I’d best
make a last effort to retrieve it.

Something else occurs to
me. Now that I’ve actually talked to Jon, realised what a bad time he went
through after that accident, other things fall into place. Didn’t Abdul say,
‘Chaos Theory explains that life is a series of seemingly unrelated incidents
that lead on from each other.’

While I was never
interested in Jon, he was really keen. So when I refused to go out with him
again, he was very upset. That’s why he was so busy watching me in his rear
vision mirror rather than keeping his gaze on the road. So if I’d explained to
him how I really felt, remained a friend, helped him get over it instead of
just shoving him away, that accident might never have happened. In a way,
doesn’t this make me equally responsible?

These thoughts turn things
around in my head. If what happens is ultimately a person’s own responsibility,
then the break-up between me and Emma belongs to both of us. Didn’t we depend
on the longevity of our friendship to sustain it? Surely a longterm
relationship must be worked on, much like watering a seedling, for the
friendship to grow and flower.

Musing on this, I also
admit to myself that otherwise I’m okay. My family love me. I have a place in
my university of choice. My ankle is healing nicely. I have other close
friends. Next summer I can look forward to travelling to Europe with Nanna
Pearl. Even Jeremy has managed to stay out of trouble due to help from his
sister who, for several weeks, answered every phone call. Thankfully, I now
know that a guy can be as personable as Abdul and not necessarily be Mr Right.
All in all I’ve emerged from illness and heartbreak to some kind of
self-knowledge.

I know you get my messages even if you
delete them. Please don’t! I’ m so sorry about Abdul. I just fell for him, just
couldn’t help myself. I know it was a shitty thing to do to my best friend. And
I’ve paid for it, because he dumped me. Emma, he conned both of us. Only there
were
extreme
circumstances,
so perhaps we should try to forgive him. I can explain more if we get together.
You’re still my best friend. Dessi.
L

WHAT KIND OF BEST FRIEND? Emma.

Don’t be like that! We can’t let one
mistake, even if a terrible one, ruin all our years of being close. Anyway, if
we don’t talk, what happened will always hang between us. I really, really miss
you. Besides, I’m worried… are you okay? Dessi
L

Dessi, you cannot possibly imagine how
much you hurt me. Course I’m okay. Emma

Yes, I DO know. But believe me, I
didn’t intend to. It just happened. Would you believe Abdul had a fiancée all
the time? What does that make us? Dumb? Dessi
L

Are you serious? A FIANCEE? Tell me
more. Emma.

Leila knows all about it. She’s Fatima
Khouri and they’re having an arranged marriage, organised since they were
little. His taking us out was his rebellion. When I saw Sacha at Jodie’s party
he told me ALL about Surfers!!! He’s not gay, is he. Dessi.
L

Think I’ll give relationships a miss
and concentrate on my art. Maybe we DO need to talk. What happened between me
and Sacha is NONE OF YOUR BUSINESS. Emma.

What are you doing tomorrow? How about
a coffee at our old place in Acland Street? Twelve o’clock. Okay? Dessi

I hit the send button and sit back to
think over the last few eventful months. Until these last few days I could
never have imagined myself forgiving Dessi for what I viewed as ‘her total betrayal’.
But learning what I just have has put me into another mind frame.

First I approach Leila for
more information. At first she didn’t want to talk about Abdul. Rather she
seems to think I’m treating Dessi badly.

As if! I think indignantly.

Nevertheless it doesn’t
take much persuasion for me to realise that what Dessi is writing in those
emails is true. All along Abdul was contracted in a curious way to another
woman, a woman from the same background as his, even if she was born here. I
wonder at Abdul taking up with Skip girls? Yet having been less attached, our
time together being so brief, I’m able to view him more dispassionately. But
I’d lay bets that when he dumped Dessi, and this being the first time this ever
happened to her, she was totally distraught. Poor Dessi.

So given these new facts,
my self-questioning now focuses on
our
relationship, on the relationship between two best
friends.

What do I expect from
Dessi? Unbidden, the many times she rescued me from unpleasant situations fills
my mind. I recall falling into her room, throwing up, and her cleaning up after
me. I recall how compassionate she was when I confessed all the things I’d been
up to, how she never told me off or acted superior. I recall the number of
times Dessi consoled me when Sam or Danny were appalling. I recall how often
Dessi coaxed and cajoled me out of being totally down. I recall what a
wonderful friend Dessi always was…

Was….

Until Abdul came on the
scene. Before that it was always me who needed hugs and support. Never Dessi.
Not even after the accident. But Dessi is luckier. She’s surrounded by a warm,
caring family. How different this is for me. No loving Hannah, Graham, Jeremy
and Nanna Pearl. I only have Julie. And she always needs my support. So maybe
I’ve always expected Dessi to be the true giver. No wonder she finally rebelled,
if only in this roundabout way. No wonder she took up with Abdul.

Meeting Dad and Laura is a
big
negative in my life. At the same time
in a curious twist, the result is positive. I’m starting to accept that some
parents aren’t able to offer support in the way their children might expect. I
now know that to ask anything more from Dad than what he’s already given me in
the way of material objects such as money or a very smart room, is all I’ll
ever get from him. A shame, really. Still…isn’t this
his
failing rather than
mine
? Nor can I expect Laura to be anything
more than a rather smart businesswoman who also happens to be unpleasantly
racist. That’s also a shame! If Laura had been different, we could have had an
interesting adult friendship.

So back to Dessi. When she
suddenly showed weakness by falling for Abdul, I just couldn’t cope. My quick
response was to break off all contact. But maybe this wasn’t fair. I know what
it’s like to fall for the wrong guy. Didn’t I have similar experiences with Sam
and Danny? Maybe I’ve acted out my own disappointments by taking it out on
Dessi.

Only now can that hard
kernel around my heart begin to crack. Only now will I acknowledge how much
I’ve missed, am still missing her. Only now can I acknowledge that ‘not
speaking’ was childish. All I’ve gained is punishment and maliciousness. Only
now can the idea of being as close to Dessi as we once were, begin to lighten
my heart.

Though I don’t say anything
to Mum, I wait for Sacha to come home and tell him some of my thoughts. I’m
well aware of how impulsive I am and how this reacts poorly on me in the long
run. After all, it’s this trait that allowed me to have sex with him when I was
supposed, at least in my own mind, to be faithful to Abdul. At the time I
certainly hadn’t stopped to think how it might affect Sacha and what the
longterm implications might be. Though he’s smart enough to never approach me
again
that way,
I
hurt him terribly. But what if my hard heartedness towards Dessi comes from the
same need to lash out at someone close, someone as close as my oldest friend?

At first Sacha is sure he’s
done something wrong and that I’m about to ask him to leave. ‘Not at all,’ I’m
quick to reassure him. ‘Mum loves… well, we both love having you here.’ Then I
tell him my thoughts about Dessi.

He listens without
interrupting. ‘I always thought you two’d get back together,’ he says when I
finally stop talking.

My eyebrows shoot up. ‘Even
when I was so angry with her?’

‘Sure,’ he says smiling.
‘Best friends have too much they’ve shared in the past to really throw
everything away.’

Only now do I dare bring up
the unmentionable. ‘You mean, even though we had sex up in Surfers, we’re able
to go back to being great mates?’

He laughs and reaches over
to hug me. I hug him back. How lucky am I to have such an understanding and
undemanding friend. Maybe not all men are jerks. Maybe some are as sweet and
caring as Sacha. Maybe one day I’ll meet someone just like him that I can love
and trust, and who will love and trust me equally. But not Sacha. Never Sacha.
Love affairs are too fragile, too easily broken. I’m far too frightened to lose
him as a close friend by allowing our relationship to go any further.