Fall Girl (18 page)

‘Those Germans are great people. Great. What a tradition of hospitality to their fellow travellers,' says Timothy, rubbing his hand over his chin. ‘Every time I said
ja
they poured me another drink. I'd never have got across the creek at all without them. I fell in, I think, once. Or twice.'

The three of them are looking at me with hopeful eyes but still I cannot speak. I quit. They can bury me where I fall. I cannot think of one rule of my father's that would be suitable for this situation. Oh no. My father. And Sam. Oh God. I hope I am struck by a meteorite before we leave so I never have to explain this to them. Sam will be intolerable. He won't say I told you so, but he won't have to. It'll be in his eyes. And then he'll rail and rant when I tell him we didn't get the money. Then when I tell him that Timothy showed up dripping wet in the middle of the forest, he will laugh so hard he will drop dead of an aneurism. Best case scenario.

‘In retrospect,' continues Timothy, ‘I probably should have brought a rucksack instead of my suitcase. I just thought the little wheels would come in handy.'

Greta breaks the painful, chirping cicada-filled silence that follows by saying, ‘Tim. How on earth could the little wheels come in handy?'

‘Wheels, er Glenda,' says Timothy, his forehead creasing with solemnity, ‘are one of the most crucial discoveries in human history. They are very, very handy.'

Now. The earth can open up and swallow me now.

‘I wanted to come down yesterday and meet you in the car park. Walk in with you. That was my intention since…er…Sam mentioned where you were going,' says Timothy. ‘He never imagined I'd actually drive down here, I expect.'

‘Sam is my brother the idiot,' I say to Daniel.

‘Right,' he says.

‘There must be something wrong with my GPS. It's a shame there's no warranty. I got lost. And when I was talking on the phone, I must've missed the turnoff,' said Timothy. ‘But I didn't let that stop me. If my girlfriend is going out in the wilds, braving the, er, wilderness with nothing but her assistants for, ah, assistance, well, my place is to help. No creek too wide. No mountain too high.'

‘Such a surprise,' says Julius. ‘Although we had met Mr Timothy before as I detailed previously, until right now we didn't even realise that Dr Ella had a boyfriend.'

‘We kept it hush hush,' says Timothy.

I'd like to hush hush him, by shoving that suitcase in his mouth. Hang on. I must be feeling better. I feel the urge to hurt Timothy returning.

‘Especially not such a handsome boyfriend.' Greta's eyes gleam: a plan is forming in her pulled-tight brain. She loops one arm through Timothy's and he almost drops the suitcase. ‘What did you say you did for a living?'

‘Retail. Wholesale. You know, trade,' says Timothy. ‘It's not as exciting as it sounds.'

‘Indeed,' says Daniel. ‘Well…'

‘Tim,' say Greta and Julius together.

‘Well, Timmy. You made it,' says Daniel. ‘I'm Daniel. Pull up some blanket. Any boyfriend of Ella's is a boyfriend of mine. Would you like some wine?'

‘
Ja
,' says Timothy. ‘Oh, you're Daniel? She's…er…told me so much about you.'

‘It's all lies.' Daniel produces extra tumblers from the rucksack near the closest tent and pours for the three of them. ‘
Prost
.'

Timothy takes his tumbler in both hands and swallows half in one gulp. Then finally after all this talk he seems to notice me, still sprawled in front of the camp stove. ‘Hello, dear,' he says. He leans over and kisses me on the cheek. I fight the urge to smack him. ‘Are you having fun?'

‘Yes. Yes, thanks.' I fill my own tumbler and take another mouthful. ‘Timothy. Were your parents siblings? I'm working. What the hell are you doing here?'

‘Dear, sweet, er, Ella. Do you know my BlackBerry doesn't work out here? What would happen if someone called about a shipment? Or Mum tries to get hold of me, to ask if I'll be home for dinner? There's no reception. At all. It's as if we went back to the eighties in a DeLorean.' Timothy takes my hand between his own two, like he was making a Della hand sandwich. ‘I need to talk to you, dear Ella.'

‘I think we are like the fourth and fifth wheels on a tricycle,' says Julius. ‘Or possibly a scooter. A scooter that has three wheels.'

‘We should go to our tents,' says Greta.

‘Nonsense,' says Daniel, pouring them all more wine. ‘Don't go to your tents. Especially not you, Glenda. Not with your claustrophobia. It might bring on an attack.'

‘Quite,' says Greta. She deliberately moves further away from Timothy.

‘Besides,' says Daniel. ‘We're all friends here. We have no secrets from one another, do we Timmy old man? I'm sure you don't want us to go.'

‘Of course not, of course not,' Timothy drains his wine and holds his tumbler out for more. ‘It's just that, well, Ella and I…' He looks from side to side to see that no one is eavesdropping out here in the middle of nowhere, then drops his voice to a whisper barely loud enough to be heard back in town. ‘There are things we need to discuss. Something I need to ask her. Very important.' Timothy taps his finger against the side of his nose and looks meaningfully at Daniel.

‘That sounds serious.' Daniel nods gravely. ‘Better have some more wine.'

‘Don't mind if I do,' says Timothy. Finally everyone sits. Julius and Greta look like patients in a dentist's waitingroom listening to muffled screams from behind a closed door, while Daniel lounges completely at ease. Timothy sits next to Daniel. The leaning tower of Timothy.

‘What is it you want to ask her?' says Daniel. ‘In my experience, with a serious kind of girl like Ella it's best to have your ideas clear before you start. Can't be making it up as you go along.'

‘I'm with you. Been thinking of nothing else on the drive down,' says Timothy.

‘I'm two metres away,' I say. ‘I can hear every word you're saying.'

‘She's the kind of girl who needs a plan,' says Daniel.

‘And I,' says Timothy, ‘I have a plan. We could get married in May. Just a small ceremony. Then she could give up this…science business and work with me. Live at home with us: me, and Mum and Dad and my sisters. They'd love to have her.'

‘Nothing wrong with my hearing,' I say.

‘Any girl would be proud,' says Daniel.

‘Any girl at all,' says Greta. ‘No sense rushing into anything. Plenty of fish in the sea.'

‘So you're prepared. You have a ring,' says Daniel.

‘Not on me, no. But I can get a ring. Wholesale. Mind you, I have some concerns,' says Timothy. ‘There are some points I'd need to be reassured about. Look before you leap, you know.'

‘Absolutely,' says Daniel. ‘It'd be best to resolve them before the wedding, I'd say.'

‘“Concerns?”' I say. ‘What do you mean “concerns”? Do you want to marry me or not?'

‘She's got a bit of a temper, I'm afraid.' Timothy sighs. ‘I don't. I'm a peace-loving man.'

‘I must admit I like a girl with a temper,' says Daniel. ‘It makes things more entertaining.'

‘You only think it's entertaining because you've never had your nose squeezed nearly off your face. Or had your ears pulled. I bet she's never pulled your ears when she's wearing her pyjamas.'

‘That's sadly true,' says Daniel. ‘But it's definitely something I'd like to try.'

‘I only have a temper because things infuriate me. If everyone would just fall into line I wouldn't have a temper. And there's nothing wrong with your nose. It's recovered just fine. It's poking into other people's business as well as it ever did.'

‘Perhaps we should discuss this in the morning,' says Greta. ‘I'm sure Daniel doesn't need to hear all about this.'

‘Oh yes Daniel does,' he says. ‘Daniel wouldn't miss this for the world.'

‘Because relationships aren't just about compatibility, are they?' says Timothy. ‘Sure, it's important to find someone who puts the lid back on the toothpaste and who doesn't take your phone recharger out of the wall when they want to recharge their own phone and your phone is not yet fully charged but instead finds herself another socket because it's terribly bad for batteries to be continually charged half-way. I sell phones, too, did I mention that? If you ever. No? If you're sure. Anyway. I'm not downplaying the importance of like-mindedness and shared values.'

‘I would never do that,' says Greta. ‘Values are very important. I'd definitely find another socket.'

‘But what's even more important than sockets is the look in her eye. In both eyes, I mean in both persons' eyes. Four eyes in total.' Timothy staggers to his knees and peers, squinting, into my eyes like he is an optometrist updating my prescription.

‘Why are you kneeling?' I say. ‘Stop peering and stop kneeling.'

‘It might only be a small business now, but imagine hundreds of shops Australia-wide,' says Timothy. ‘And then we could expand. A chain of pawnbrokers. Short term loans at staggering interest rates with no collateral. And sex toys. We could mail-order sex toys throughout the world. Porn's out, though. The internet killed porn distribution. The seventies, that was the golden age of porn. These days it's all amateurs, over the net, no professionalism anymore. But other than porn, the sky's the limit. There's one proviso. It must be built on a stable foundation, and that stable foundation is a man and a woman working hand in glove together the way my parents did. How is a couple supposed to get through the next forty or fifty years without that look in their four eyes?'

‘How indeed?' says Daniel. ‘Well said, and what a fascinating empire you are building Timmy. How can I buy shares, and would you like some more wine?'

‘
Ja
. And you don't, do you Della?' Timothy is on one knee now. He leans over and takes my hand again.

‘He means “Ella”,' says Julius. ‘This is a further example of why I do not indulge in the evils of alcohol. It makes you forget even the name of your own girlfriend.'

‘I've known you since you were five years old and I don't think I've ever seen it,' Timothy says. ‘The look, I mean. Tell me the truth, Ella.'

‘Nothing like the truth, Ella,' says Daniel. ‘If the truth fits, wear it.'

‘Exactly! Couldn't have said it better myself,' says Timothy. ‘Ella, I have eyes too. And there are mirrors in my house, you know. Three: bathroom, behind the bedroom door and over the hall table. That doesn't even count the one in the sun visor of my car, the one with the slidey door and its own little light. So I've seen my eyes, on more than one occasion. Keep that in mind before you answer.'

‘Have you had a blow to the head?' I say.

‘I've been trying for weeks to ask you this. It's a simple enough question. It's not rocket surgery,' says Timothy. ‘Are you in love with me?'

‘Take your time,' says Greta.

‘Don't rush it,' says Daniel. ‘Think before you answer.'

‘Timothy, I hardly think this is the place,' I say.

‘Nonsense Ella. Timmy has asked a fair question. The least you can do is answer it. Here…let me see your eyes.' Daniel leans across and takes my chin in his hand and tilts my face up. ‘What d'ya reckon, Timmy? I can't see anything myself.'

‘What do you two expect? My pupils to actually take the shape of hearts?' I brush sand from my legs and do my best to avoid his eyes. ‘All right, all right. No. I'm not in love with you Timothy. Satisfied?'

‘Very,' says Greta.

‘So I suppose that marrying me is out of the question?'

‘Completely.'

‘Despite the romantic nature of this gesture?' Timothy says. ‘Despite the fact that I have driven for hours with only intermittent satellite support and hiked down the track carrying quite a heavy suitcase and fell over twice and saw a snake on the path and had to pee behind a tree and nearly drowned in the creek before the German backpackers saved me?'

‘You're certainly romantic, Timmy,' says Daniel. ‘I'll say that for you. If I was a girl I'd jump at the chance.'

‘Perhaps I should have asked her father first. Should I have asked her father first?'

‘In my country yes,' says Julius. ‘And you would need to offer goats.'

‘What would my father do with a goat?' I say.

‘Not one goat, heavens no.' Julius laughs. ‘You are not a one-goat bride.'

‘Thank you, Joshua.'

‘Certainly you are worthy of one entire goat, and some change from a smaller goat,' says Julius. ‘Say one and one third goats, roughly.'

I squint at him. I know where he sleeps. I can kill him later.

‘So you never loved me. You were just using me. For sex,' says Timothy.

‘Let's stop right there.' I struggle to my feet, swaying mildly.

‘We're just getting to the good bit,' says Daniel.

‘I'm going to thump you both in a minute.'

‘See? Temper,' says Timothy.

‘You're right,' says Daniel.

‘Cover your ears and nose,' says Timothy.

‘Shut up, shut up, the lot of you.' I brace myself against the sand, which seems to be tilting under my feet. ‘You. Timothy. No, I will not marry you.' I take a deep breath to calm myself, and stop the bushes spinning. I think for a moment I will kick him in the crotch, but then I look at his face. ‘But, Timothy. I will forever treasure the memories of the time we spent together. I will tuck them away in a secret place near my heart and I will throw away the key so no one will ever find it, including myself.'

‘A secret place,' says Timothy. ‘Like a container? Or a storage unit?'

‘Exactly. Now you, Joshua. One more story about wells or goats, I'm calling immigration and having your student visa cancelled. I mean it. You'll be sleeping in the hut with your thirteen brothers and sisters before you can say border security.'