Monkey Business (5 page)

‘
Shower tea
? How old is it, for God's sake?'

‘Blasphemy!' Mum tsked. ‘I really think you should go to confession, Erica. I'm sure you have impure thoughts.' She gave me a look.

‘For God's sake,' I muttered.

‘There, you see! Blasphemy comes out of your mouth as quickly as Jack Robinson.'

I wolfed down my stew and mash, shovelled in the peas.

Mum wasn't pleased. ‘Your bottom seems to be getting bigger,' she said and reached for something on the buffet next to the dining table. An iPad.

I gaped at my mother as she flipped open the cover and starting tapping the screen. It was a newer model than mine.

‘Where did you get
that
?' I said, with sudden, unbidden envy.

‘Your brother gave it to me. An early Mother's Day present.' She looked at me over the top of her glasses – it was a you'd-better-come-up-with-something-pretty-special look. Damn my brother to hell.

My mobile rang and I plucked it from my bag. It was Mum, wanting to Facetime. I sighed and answered, and Mum's face loomed on my screen.

‘Hold your phone closer, Erica. I can't see your face.'

I did it.

‘You've got a pimple!' she shouted.

I hung up. ‘Why did Nick give you an iPad?'

‘Because he loves his mother.' There was that look again. And then, ‘It's amazing! This computer knows everything. I just gooble a question and it knows! Look at this.' She tapped and showed me the screen. ‘Look how many wedding planners there are in Melbourne.'

Time to change the subject, or better still, leave the table. I stacked the dishwasher, Mum rearranged it all, then we sat on the sofa. There was a Steve Irwin special on. An old one, obviously, from before he died. Dad was in his chair, head thrown back, mouth hanging open with a snore whistling in and out of him. Mum knitted.

‘I miss Steve Irwin,' said Mum. ‘He was such a good husband. It's a shame you didn't meet him before that other woman. He might have liked you, you know,' she said, as though it might have been a real possibility. I had a fleeting image of myself – the only woman in a crowd of khaki-clad men – struggling with a section of anaconda, trying to smile for the cameras and look like I wasn't shitting myself.

I forced a smile and watched Mum's knitting needles fly. Knitting is another field of domesticity in which I suck.

‘What are you making?' I said, feigning interest.

She held up the tiny blue thing. ‘Baby booties.'

‘Who had a baby?'

‘They're for you, dear,' she said, without dropping a stitch or moving her eyes away from the television.

‘Mum, I'm not planning on having babies for a while. I'm not even planning on getting married.'

‘I'm using vigilisation.'

‘Visualisation?'

‘Yes. I heard that you can get whatever you want if you vigilise it and act as though it's already true. I made some pink ones too. I think when Jack comes back from his business trip he'll be looking to settle down. I can feel it in my waters.'

Mum desperately wants me to be decently married again. She loves Jack not just because he's good-looking and appears to be interested in me, but because he's got lots of money, and is big and strong and capable of caring for her when she's old. I hadn't told her that he was already back from his ‘business trip' and decided I probably wouldn't, especially if he was about to head off again.

‘You should watch out, you know,' she said.

‘Why?'

‘Well, if you're going to let him run off here and there, he might meet someone else.'

I nodded. What to say? She was probably right.

‘Where is his business trip?' she asked. ‘I can't remember where you said.'

And because of all the lies I tell my mother, I couldn't remember either.

‘Um, Europe?'

‘I don't know how he can bear being in that godforsaken country.'

‘Europe's not a country, Mum.'

‘It's near Italy, isn't it?'

‘Italy's
in
Europe.'

‘Then it's godforsaken, is all I can say.'

‘The Pope lives there.'

‘He lives in a blessed place. Away from all the riff-raff.'

I muttered, ‘You know, Jack might like Europe. He was born there, remember? He might not even come back.' Why was I having visions of Jack going away and never coming back? A lump formed in my throat and I could sense her staring at me.

‘Whatever do you mean?' said Mum, but I was already leaving the room.

I didn't see or hear from Jack for the next few days and I was shitty about that. I couldn't think of a really good reason to be shitty so I decided that he should have let me know one way or the other about JD's cocktail party so I could make other plans if necessary. Other plans. Yeah, right. But when he finally called me on Thursday and said that he'd pick me up at six-fifteen for JD's party, I didn't even ask why I was still invited. I couldn't ask because I was smiling too much to say anything.

Of course I made an extra-special effort. I bought underwear and a dress. Something understated. The dress had long sleeves and a scoop neck, sat just above the knee, was simple and black but with a narrow emerald-coloured belt and trim, to match my eyes. I'd straightened my hair, which made it longer and glossier; something I should do more often, I decided. And I wore high heels to boost my average height so I didn't look too short next to Jack. Ultimately, I wanted to look elegant and relaxed, like society cocktail parties were part of my regime, even though it took about four hours to get ready.

When Jack arrived at my house he wasn't smiling. He was polite, as always, holding the door for me as I climbed into his Merc. His telltale eyes were worried and angry.

In an attempt to make light conversation, I said, ‘Did you play squash with Steve?'

‘No. Maybe next week.'

‘Right.'

I was silent for a while and so was he. Eventually I said, ‘You're not happy.'

‘No. Sorry.'

‘It's okay.'

He nodded.

‘Can I ask something?' I dared.

He gave me a sideways glance, but didn't say anything, so I took that to mean ‘sure, go ahead'.

‘Why is it even an issue with this guy? I mean, don't you have final say on who you work with?'

He frowned slightly, and I had an impulse to tell him to forget it, that it was none of my business, but instead I held my breath and waited.

Finally, he said, ‘I was asked to interview the guy, which I did, and he's qualified.'

‘But you're not happy about what he gets up to after hours.'

‘No.'

‘And if you just refuse to take him?'

Jack swore softly at the car in front of us, which was travelling at a snail's pace. After a long time he said, ‘It's complicated.'

We arrived at JD's big house. ‘What do you want me to do tonight?' I said. We'd driven the last ten minutes in silence.

‘Just enjoy yourself. I'll let you know when it's time to leave.' He looked at me. ‘You don't have to leave with me if you don't want.'

‘Of course I'll leave with you. Unless you don't want me to.'

He smiled, at last. ‘We'll leave together.'

Goody gumdrops.

‘You look beautiful, Erica,' he said out of the blue.

‘This old thing?'

He gave my leg a squeeze and we got out of the car.

When we walked into JD's house a butler greeted us, offering to take bags, coats, whatever. To the left of the entry hall was a door that led to the library, I seemed to remember, and to the right was a vast ballroom where most people were mingling. It wasn't a ‘small' function at all. I could see others at the far end of the room on the open terrace, where there were overhead heaters and where soft lights lit the surrounding garden.

We made our way across the ballroom as John and Sue Degraves came to greet us.

‘Hello! Hello!' said jolly JD, shaking Jack's hand vigorously, but not making eye contact with him. ‘Come, let's have a drink.' He was already pulling Jack across the room.

Sue Degraves took my arm and we followed.

‘Thanks for inviting me, Mrs Degraves.'

‘For God's sake, call me Sue. I'm not stuffy like my husband and I certainly don't want to be reminded of my awful mother-in-law.' She laughed. ‘Champagne?'

‘Please.'

They led us to a heater on the terrace and a waiter brought us drinks. JD moved on, but Sue lingered, smiling at us, then she reached out with both hands and gripped our arms. ‘You're such a
gorgeous
couple!'

My mouth fell open and Jack cleared his throat.

She said, looking up at Jack, ‘I'm so happy for you.'

He did one of those mutter-mutter looking-away things.

‘And you,' she said to me, ‘are one lucky girl.'

I pushed my smile wide. ‘Certainly am! Luckiest girl on the planet.'

Sue gave my arm a squeeze and left us. Jack was studying something on the ground. I nudged him and he looked at me, unsure.

‘I notice she didn't say how lucky
you
are.'

He laughed, went to speak, changed his mind. But then his eyes narrowed as he focused on something over my shoulder. When I looked, I saw Mr Redhead-Drug-Addict having a fine old time with some people on the other side of the terrace. He raised his glass to Jack and threw his drink down in one go.

Jack sighed. ‘I need to talk to Degraves.'

‘Why do I feel I know that guy, Jack? I mean, apart from last week.'

Jack ignored that but said, ‘Will you be all right if I leave you here?'

‘Oh. Sure.' I looked around. There were some faces I knew.

He headed back inside and I watched him approach JD. They walked to the front of the house and through the library door.

I looked for Mr Drugs again, and that's when I noticed the other people standing around him. One of the men was smiling at me and as our eyes met, he gave me a wink. I gasped and looked away. It was the violent dark-haired guy from the nightclub. Had he recognised me? No, he couldn't possibly have. Who was he and why was he here? Then I remembered that I'd first noticed him at the club
because
he was talking to the redhead.

I walked quickly through the ballroom. I needed to tell Jack. Tell him what? In front of JD? I slowed as I approached the library. Couldn't barge on in there. I needed to wait. The door was slightly ajar. I glanced over my shoulder but the redhead and the violent guy were out of my line of sight.

Then I heard Jack's voice. ‘I won't have him, John.'

JD said quietly (and I moved closer so I could hear), ‘From what I understand, Berringer's recruiting more men every day. You'll need the manpower.'

Jack didn't say anything for a while – I could imagine him standing there all broody, hands on hips, looking at the floor. He finally spoke. ‘This is a favour
you
owe, not me.'

JD said, ‘Look, he's qualified and he respects you.' More silence. ‘Come on, Jack. Just talk to him about your concerns.'

I heard shuffling and quickly dashed across the hallway, turned and pretended to be approaching as they came out. Jack saw me and frowned. JD smiled and held his arms wide.

‘Ah, Erica!' he said as though seeing me for the first time. ‘So nice you could make it tonight.' He shook my hand.

‘Thanks for the invitation, Mr Degraves.'

‘Come, come. Let's all have a drink!'

JD tried to herd us back to the terrace, but Jack took my arm gently, holding me back, and said to JD, ‘We'll be there in a minute.'

JD's smile faded – his plan to force everyone to have fun foiled – and he nodded, then headed across the ballroom.

I turned to Jack. ‘I need to tell you something.'

He looked into my face, concerned. I might have been a bit pale.

‘What's wrong?' he said.

‘Can we go in there?' I pointed at the library door.

‘All right . . .' He looked past me. ‘Hold on just one minute . . . G'day, Mick.'

For some reason, before I even looked, I knew I'd be meeting the violent guy, whose hand Jack was shaking in a friendly way. Internally I shrank away from him, even though I knew he probably wouldn't recognise me. I looked at the floor.

‘No surprise you'd be with a gorgeous woman, Jack.'

‘Erica, this is Mick Jansen.'

I glanced at Mick Jansen, who was smiling at me, so innocent, warm and friendly that I wondered for a moment if I was wrong. That somehow this wasn't the same man who assaulted Lucy, me and that young guy at the club. But it
was
him.

I found I was holding my hand out for him to shake, but I couldn't look at him for long. Eventually he moved on and when I glanced up at Jack, he was watching me carefully.

‘Come in here,' he said, and I followed him into JD's library. He shut the door. ‘You look like you've seen a ghost.'

‘More like an abusive bastard.'

‘What do you mean?'

‘That man, the one you just introduced me to?'

‘Mick Jansen.'

‘He's the one who assaulted us at the nightclub.'

Jack's jaw dropped and he stared at me for a long time. ‘You're sure about that?'

‘Yes. No. I don't know.'

‘You need to know.'

‘I
was
sure, but then he was so . . . so
nice
just then. I first noticed him at the club because he was talking to the redhead guy.'

Jack stepped closer, gripped my arms, and I looked into his serious face.

I said, ‘I'm sure.'

He nodded once; that's all he needed. He left the room and I stood there, shaking.

It was about fifteen minutes before Jack came looking for me. I stayed in the library, sitting on the edge of a chair, biting my nails, my foot jiggling up and down. I felt so jittery that when Jack walked in I nearly hit the roof.

‘Let's go,' he said. ‘I'm taking you home.'

He took my arm and led me to his car. As we drove away I noticed a smudge of dried blood on his knuckle. When I looked closely at his face, I saw a small graze on his cheek.

‘Jack, you need to tell me what happened. I can't stand it.'

‘Mick Jansen's no longer on my team.'

I gasped, shocked. ‘He was on your team for this mission?'

He nodded.

‘What will you do?'

Jack ignored that but said, ‘He might think twice about who he picks on in nightclubs.'

‘Did he admit it?'

‘Not in so many words.'

‘What did he say? Like, she was asking for it or something?'

Pause. ‘Something like that.'

‘Bloody hell. Why do men think like that?'

He shook his head. ‘Not all men.'

‘I know. Sorry.'

We were silent for a while and I considered how this might change things for Jack. The job he was assigned to do. Eventually I asked, ‘Will you cancel the mission?'

He gave me a long look. I was being too nosy. But I held my breath and waited. I wanted to hear it.

‘No,' he said.