Indelible Ink (55 page)

Marie watched the chemicals seep into her arm. She wished Brian was here. She thought of his stories of villagers dancing and feasting together. She remembered the dance floor at FAST, the
centre like a molten core, the primeval soup, a blood vessel pumping with spirit and flesh. It was like another world; she could hardly believe she had been there.

Hugh was aware of Blanche uneasy beside him in the darkness.

‘Hugh. Can you feel my breast? Here. I think there’s a lump.’

‘That’s a novel excuse.’ Hugh put down his magazine and rolled towards her.

‘No, seriously, here, don’t you think? It hurts.’

Hugh kneaded her left breast obediently. ‘I can’t feel any lumps. Do you want me to check the other one?’

‘Yes.’

‘Lie on your back.’ Hugh probed.

‘
Ouch.
’ Blanche lay rigid.

‘Absolutely beautiful, perfectly lump-free breasts. I’d stake my life on it. The most beautiful perfect breasts on the planet. You’re pregnant, pooky, that’s why your
breasts are sore. They’re supposed to be, a little bit, aren’t they? Get some sleep.’

‘I can’t.’

‘Read then.’ He passed her
Harper
’
s Bazaar.
‘God, that’s a tome.’

‘I can’t concentrate.’

‘Oh, Blanche, I don’t know what to do with you when you’re like this. I thought you said you were feeling better. You haven’t thrown up for at least two weeks.’

‘I am feeling better.’

On clear nights, they could hear the harbour from their bedroom. There was the swish of a boat passing McMahons Point. It
was
an excuse, in a way. Blanche wanted Hugh’s hands back
on her breasts, she wanted him to stroke her everywhere. Sex didn’t have to stop when you were pregnant, did it? But she didn’t want to stroke him in return: she didn’t desire his
body at all. She pushed away her sadness and guilt.

‘Hugh?’

‘Yes?’

‘How long did your father take to die?’

‘About two years.’

‘So why did they only give Mum six months? She’s only got four left you know. The second chemo is making her even worse.’

‘My father had lung cancer and it went into remission then came back. Stomach cancer is usually aggressive. Blanche, a slow death isn’t that great, believe me.’

‘I’ve
never
trusted doctors. She looks terrible. You won’t believe the changes when you next see her. She’s lost
so
much weight.’

‘Come here, darling. It’s okay.’

Blanche moved into the crook of Hugh’s arm. ‘I think I’m going to get retrenched.’

‘Bla-anche.’

‘It’s
true.
I was already on probation for the Diet Coke debacle. Kate did a fantastic job on the sanitary napkins when I was in hospital. Terry wants to sleep with her. My
pregnancy will start showing in a month or so. I can see where it’s all headed.’

‘One thing at a time, okay? You’ve got enough going on already. Don’t
think
about it.’

‘Why do they say retrenched? Whatever happened to good old
fired
.’

‘Blanche King,’ said Hugh, stentorian, ‘we’re giving you
the sack
.’

‘I never got that actually. I always saw someone with a sack over their head being marched outside.’

‘Exactly.’

‘It might be a good thing. I think I’m over it. I’m over the industry and I’m over being overworked. I’m going to make art.’

Hugh stroked her hair. ‘Great idea.’

Blanche smiled. She felt relief, excitement, and a blast of strength. ‘Yeah, that’s exactly what I’m going to do. And I’ll exit HA elegantly, not give Terry the pleasure
of making me exit.’

The sound of André and his girlfriend’s lovemaking leaked up through the floor.

‘It’s genetic, you know, Hugh,’ Blanche said quietly. ‘We’re going to give our baby a double dose. Did you ever think of that?’

‘It’s midnight.’ Hugh shut his magazine. ‘I’m turning out the light.’

Neither of them could sleep. Hugh said, ‘I thought of a place for your mother to move to.’

‘Me and Clark are going to look on Saturday. I’m telling the boys about Dad and the estate then too.’

‘Why don’t we just put her in Neutral Bay?’

‘Because we’ve got tenants there?’

‘The lease expired ages ago.’

‘They’re great tenants, Hugh. They’ve been there five years, they painted it and they always pay on time.’ But Blanche’s defence sounded cursory. She turned so she
was facing him. ‘Me and the boys are still arguing over where to put Mum, you know. And Mum’s no help — she’s beyond caring.’ Blanche thought to herself, not for the
first time, how much more convenient it would be if her mother died sooner, but she felt too guilty to say it. The only advantage of dying later was the delay on her father getting his hands on the
estate. She was surprised at how quickly she had adjusted to her mother dying, and overwhelmed by how much there was to
do.
Nobody warned you that death was an administrative nightmare; the
stories were all about the emotional side.

‘We can give them a month’s notice,’ said Hugh. ‘That’s fair. And after your mother goes we can do a few things in the kitchen and bathroom and put the rent up. The
rental market is the best place at the moment. We need to be making a profit from Neutral, now we can’t count on the estate, otherwise I’ll have to sell Ultimo.’

‘I know, and this three-month settlement stretches us too.’

‘It’s okay, I’m keeping track of the interest. But if I sell Ultimo now I’ll be selling at a loss, which I don’t want to do. Not now we’re having a
baby.’ Hugh shifted so Blanche’s ear was over his sternum. She listened to his voice in stereo. What he was saying made perfect sense, and she began to feel relieved.

‘I really need some cowboy boots,’ she said when he had finished talking.

‘A propos nothing.’

‘It’s a pregnancy present!’

‘Where will you put them? You’ve already got about ten pairs of boots.’

‘Not cowboy boots, though. They’re so versatile. If I get cowboy boots I can throw out all the others. I’ve found these ones online made by this guy in Arizona. They’re
amazing, they are pure art. I
need
them, Hugh.’

‘I fully agree you need a pregnancy present, pooky.’

She squeezed his hand and fell asleep like that, lulled by his voice and the inner workings of his body, and the knowledge that, no matter what, he was there behind her.

When Blanche told them about their father’s intentions to claim half the estate, Clark’s first reaction was laughter. They were sitting on the deck: he had gone
over to the north shore to house hunt and instead found himself drinking Diet Coke, receiving the news about Neutral Bay and the estate in virtually the same sentence. The move to Neutral Bay was
immediately forgotten.

‘I knew it,’ Leon declared with heavy fatalism.

‘
I
didn’t.’ Clark laughed. ‘I can’t believe it.’

‘He’s a prick. It’s exactly the sort of thing he’d do.’

‘But how can it be legal? They had a settlement, didn’t they?’

‘Out of court. Hugh and I have looked into it and there’s nothing we can do.’

‘What’s Hugh got to do with this?’ Leon said belligerently.

‘He has a good lawyer. The same guy who took care of things when his father died.’

‘Oh,
right
,’ said Clark. ‘So how long have you known? When did you see Dad?’

Hands clasped over her abdomen, Blanche looked from one brother to the other. ‘About two weeks ago.’

‘So Hugh’s known longer than us,’ said Leon. ‘
Oh-kaaay
.’

‘I found out the day I went into hospital, okay? And I didn’t tell you then because I was
sick
and I
knew
you’d react like this. And of course I’d tell Hugh
straightaway.’

‘Like what?’ Clark raised his arms. ‘How are we reacting?’

‘Blaming me.’

‘Who’s blaming you?’

‘Well, you’re being pretty bloody hostile, Leon.’

‘I’m just curious about Hugh
looking into this situation
for us.’ Leon clawed inverted commas into the air for the last noun, looking to Clark for support.

‘Well, have
you
got a lawyer, Leon? What are you going to do about it?’

Leon raised his arms helplessly as Clark had done, turning down the corners of his mouth. For a second, Clark thought he looked like Paulie from
The Sopranos
and he wanted to laugh. The
relief of not having to house hunt for his mother had lifted his mood in spite of the news about the estate. He looked at the pile of mail he had collected from the kitchen table. The letter opener
was a brass knife that had belonged to their mother’s mother. It was one of the things he wanted when his mother died. He considered slipping it into his pocket when the others weren’t
looking. They didn’t appreciate it in the way he did. He shuffled the personal mail to the back and began opening the envelopes with plastic windows, smoothing the letters on the table in
front of him as he read out. ‘$1067 from the vet. $256 Sydney Water, final notice. $153 gas. Overdue. $1534 from the vet, overdue as well.’

Ignore that. Hugh’s paid the vet.’

‘He pays Mum’s bills as well, does he?’

‘As a matter of fact,
yes
, Leon, Hugh pays with my and his money, since before she sold she was in debt and her cheques to Fatima were bouncing.’

‘The house is sold now. Mum can pay you back.’

‘Not till settlement.’

Clark felt light-headed. There was still a strange novelty in these meetings: he and his siblings hadn’t seen one another this often since they were children. He was pleased that the main
conflict as usual was between Leon and Blanche, and annoyed that he had again driven all the way across the bridge for a meeting that could just have as easily taken place at his house, if only
they would come to him for once. He was avoiding Leon’s gaze: there was a neediness and anger in it that made him want to run. He knew that losing their mother would be harder for Leon than
any of them; too bad, Leon would just have to cut the umbilical cord.

He said: ‘Well, obviously we whack every bill we have in here and use up as much of this estate as possible before Dad gets his hands on it. That makes sense, doesn’t it, Blanche? We
could take it to the wall: get yourself enough fertiliser for the next year, Leon; I’ll do a big book shop; we’ll charge it to the estate.’

‘I’ll get arrested for terrorism.’ Leon laughed. ‘I don’t have anywhere to store it.’

‘We have to go through the house things too, at some stage,’ said Blanche. ‘I was thinking of Sunday if that suits you two.’

‘I wouldn’t mind the dining room table. And this letter opener.’

‘You haven’t got enough room for the dining room table in Bondi, have you?’

‘I’ll be getting somewhere bigger.’

‘What with?’

Clark looked up. ‘Whoops! I suppose the table is yours after all, Blanche.’ He felt furious.

‘I might not want it. I might have the lounge suite instead. Leon, when you move back, you could set yourself up really well. TV, stereo, fully equipped kitchen. Clark doesn’t need
any of that, do you?’

Listen to her, thought Clark, the tiniest crack and she’s in there organising, dominating. ‘Ah,
sure.
It’s all yours!’

‘I can’t think about that stuff now. I don’t want anything.’

‘Leon, we have to deal with it. And sooner rather than later. This pregnancy will start slowing me down soon.’ She wanted to tell them she was leaving work to become not just a
mother but also an artist, and how happy she was about that, but their hostility was still palpable.

Clark opened another bill. ‘Dr Wroblewski. $2830.’

Out of the blue, Leon said, ‘I have to go to court in a month and I can’t get legal aid cos I’m not on the dole but I can’t afford a barrister because my wages
aren’t big enough.’

‘What are you talking about?’

‘You buying too much fertiliser, mate?’

‘For being a homosexual on the loose.’ Leon began the sentence in one of his accents, the camp lisping one.

‘Oh, right,’ said Blanche.

‘What happened?’ said Clark.

Leon was embarrassed. He shouldn’t have used that dumb accent: he would give away the stuff about the beat. ‘I got busted for having a joint in my pocket.’

‘You’re kidding,’ said Blanche.

‘No, I’m serious.’ Leon sat up straight and Clark could see he was telling the truth.

‘Sniffer dogs?’ said Clark.

‘Yep.’

‘What were you doing walking around with a joint in your pocket?’ asked Blanche.

‘I forgot it was there. I was going to a party. They were out doing raids.’

‘What’s being a homosexual got to do with it?’ said Clark.

‘They were really homophobic.’

‘Where were you?’ said Blanche. ‘This didn’t happen around here, did it?’

‘I was going to a party in Moore Park. I’d been at George’s.’

Clark watched Leon closely, thinking now that he wasn’t telling the truth. He looked rattled. His eyes were red.

‘Gee,’ said Blanche. ‘That’s really awful, Leon.’

‘I get a criminal record, stuffs up my business. Can’t leave the country.’

‘Well, there’ll be enough money to cover your costs,’ said Blanche. ‘It’s not like we’re going to inherit
nothing.
Come to think of it, you could even
pay me back that loan, Leon.’

Leon ignored her.

‘So I could still get a bigger place, big enough for the dining room table.’

Blanche ignored Clark. ‘Have you got a lawyer? Is he any good?’

‘No.’

‘
Leon.
You have to get a lawyer!’

‘I didn’t know where to begin. I’m still just processing it.’

‘I know someone who could advise you.’

‘Are you still seeing that woman?’ Blanche said.

Clark laughed, properly now. He wanted to rip up the bills and throw them in the air like paper money. ‘Oh the merry-go-round of life!’ he sang and waved the bills around. His
armpits stank and he didn’t understand why — he hadn’t had a drink in days, not even a coffee; he hoped his siblings couldn’t smell them. Blanche sent him a weird look. Leon
snorted in assent, but he was shaking his head at the same time. Clark couldn’t wait to text Sylvia the news about the lost estate. He couldn’t wait for her sympathy, her outrage, and
her rescue.