Our Magic Hour (30 page)

‘Where were you tonight?' Audrey asked suddenly.

‘I was out.'

She looked at the flecked linoleum floor. ‘Out.'

‘Yes.' He toed one of the bags. ‘I was in the office till eight. Then we went for
drinks after. That all right with you?'

‘And you didn't check your messages? You didn't hear your phone ring once? Claire's
been trying to call since six-thirty.'

He rubbed his face. ‘I had about a thousand missed calls from Claire and twice as
many from you. I didn't think anything had happened for a second. I just thought
Clairy was calling to chat. I thought
you
were being intense. I freaked out. It made
me not want to call back.'

Audrey was so angry she could have hit him. The rage was in her bloodstream. In that
second she was blind with it.

‘Not everything's about you,' she said.

Julian looked at the wall. Audrey picked up the plastic bags. ‘There's a thermos
of coffee in that one. And Elliott's insect book is in there, when he feels like
it.'

Julian said nothing. Audrey folded her arms. ‘Say hi to Claire for me,' she said.
She turned to go.

‘I don't know what Claire plans on doing tonight, but whatever she does, I think
I should stay with her,' Julian called after her.

‘Yes.'

‘Well, I might see if she wants to come to ours.'

‘Do whatever you want.'

She pushed out of the hospital, took a second to work out which road led home. She
walked halfway around the building and started
down St Pauls Street, past the cinemas,
past Bat Country. Somewhere near the park she burst into tears. By the time she got
home she'd stopped crying, but her head was aching.

Pip and Frank and Tess were all sitting in the kitchen, three tender faces.

‘Elliott's okay,' she said.

‘We heard,' Frank said. He gave a small smile. ‘Tough kid.'

She woke wanting to call Adam. The house was still. She washed her hair, combed it
sitting on the couch in the lounge room. She and Nick had never celebrated their
anniversaries, but she knew exactly when Katy had driven to the reservoir. She'd
been counting down the days.

It was too early to go to work. She dressed in front of her mirror. Her wet hair
left a cold patch on her back. She walked down to the park and sat on the burnt grass.
Just before seven she called Adam.

‘Did I wake you?' she asked.

‘No, I've been up for a while. Couldn't sleep.'

‘We're older than her now,' Audrey said. She was filled with a colicky sadness.

‘Do you ever think about why she did it?'

‘No. I understand that.'

It was a mild, airless Sydney morning, all pink light and rotting frangipani. Adam
was silent, but she knew he was still there.

‘You know when you're a kid how adults would go, “This year's just flying!”' he said
at last, ‘and you'd think, “What do you mean? A year's the longest fucking thing
there is
.
”'

‘It's gone fast, hasn't it?'

‘And it feels like all this stuff 's happened,' said Adam. ‘It's all changed. If
somebody had said to me a year ago that you'd be up there, I'd have a real job—I
wouldn't have believed it.' Audrey tried to picture where he was standing. Maybe
in his kitchen; maybe on
the tiny balcony with its view of the Grey Street beat,
cigarette between knuckles. ‘I'm going on an excursion today. To the Vic Market,
with a bunch of thirteen-year-old girls. And Minh's started leaving his shit at my
place. It's weird.'

‘Yeah, but it's good-weird, isn't it?'

‘Yeah,' he said. His voice was crackly with fatigue. ‘It is.'

‘I really miss her.'

‘Me too.'

‘And I know you're not supposed to say things like this, but for ages after she did
it, I was so mad at her.'

‘Me too,' Adam said again, and gave a watery laugh. ‘The bitch.'

They said goodbye. Audrey took off her shoes and walked barefoot up the hill to
the bus stop.

It was a long, strange day. She ran from family to family, room to room. In each
one somebody was trying very hard not to die. A parent gave her a laminated card
with a picture of the Virgin Mary. A child gave her a sheet of butcher's paper with
‘A's scrawled all over it.
Your special letter
, he said, and Audrey tucked it into
her satchel. At lunch she pushed out to the carpark and sat on the concrete stair
with her coffee, sun-blind. She watched two ambos split a sandwich wrapped in wax
paper. She thought of Nick, that courtyard at St Vincent's where he'd meet her, crunching
a pear.

She took the slow route home. Bus down Belmore Road, head resting on the window.
Audrey remembered the phone call from Katy's father, how she'd known something was
wrong when she heard his voice. The air had gone right out of her, and Nick had said
What, what, what's happened
, crouched beside her. Later, when they were all adrift,
Adam in his frenzied grief, Audrey had imagined she might have come across a signal
or a clue. But Katy was a dark blur. She'd left no explanation, no notes, just an
exhausting blackness that yielded no reason. She was an insect caught in amber, a
leaf in resin.
She'd never be anywhere but in the front seat of that car with its
windows sealed.

Up Oberon Street, almost home, when her phone rang.

Her sister's voice. ‘Can you talk?'

‘Of course.'

Audrey stepped out into the warm evening.

‘I'm worried about Maman,' Irène said. ‘I know you think I'm a panic merchant, but
I wouldn't call unless I had to.'

‘What's happened?'

‘I think she's sick again. She keeps talking about money, but she still hasn't found
a job. She's worried about you. She keeps telling me she's seen signs in number plates.
Last week I took the kids to hers for the day. When I came to pick them up Lucas
was screaming in his playpen, and she was in her bedroom with the door closed. With
some bloke.'

‘What?'

‘They were in the bedroom, with Zoe watching TV in the next room, and Lucas beside
himself.'

Audrey stopped walking. ‘That's awful, Irène, I'm so sorry.'

‘She's planning a trip to Europe by herself. I don't know where she's getting the
money. I'm worried it might be a sort of last hurrah. You know, a big exit.'

‘Shit.'

‘I need to know what you did with her after Dad's funeral. I haven't been able to
reach her since Friday. Does Dr Lawrence have a number? I don't know what to do.
What did you do last time?'

Audrey reached the gate. Julian and Pip were sitting on the front porch drinking
beers, and she waited until she was inside before she answered. ‘I tricked her. I
told her I was having a mental-health assessment, and asked her to come with me.'

The sisters were silent. At last Audrey sighed. ‘I'll call Dr Lawrence.' Sylvie's
number rang out. Audrey sat with her back against her
bedroom door and called Bern.

‘Have you heard from Maman?'

‘Yeah, actually, she was round here this morning.'

‘What, at yours?'

Bernie laughed. ‘You could
not
sound any more surprised.'

‘Is she all right?'

‘She's fine. I'm helping her update her CV.'

‘How about more generally? Irène said she'd been pretty intense recently. Something
about Europe.'

‘Oh, it was just one of those things—you know, like how she thought about moving
to Bright a while ago? You know what Maman's like.'

‘If she needs help, it's not up to you.'

Another pause before he answered. ‘I think she's doing okay. She's rapid-cycling.
She's probably not as bad as Irène said.'

Audrey could only get little words out. ‘Thanks, Bernie.'

‘For what?' he asked. ‘I'm not doing anything.'

Audrey wished he'd have the grace to accept her gratitude. They mumbled goodbyes
and disconnected. The phone was warm in her hand. It was still early, the evening
sun streaming in. She wanted to sleep next to someone, but it'd be hours before Julian
was home from work, and she didn't have the energy for another brush-off. She shut
the blinds and crawled between the sheets.

She woke after nightfall, thinking it was very early in the morning, but downstairs
the television was blaring and the others were eating and talking. The day would
not end.

Still thick with sleep, Audrey made a cup of tea and took it back to her bedroom.

Julian loped down the hallway and stood at the foot of her bed, announced he was
going down to the pub. She nodded and said
Have fun
, and he turned to go—but at the
doorway he paused.

‘D'you want to come?'

‘Where are you going?'

‘Just the big one up the street. You coming, or not?'

They sat overlooking the water. Audrey still felt disoriented. She was hungry. They
ordered burgers, and Julian laughed at her appetite. They didn't have much to say
to each other. They were both tired.

‘All day I was looking forward to leaving work,' Julian said, ‘and now I'm just thinking
about all the shit I have to do tomorrow. Sometimes you can switch off, but sometimes
your brain won't stop. I feel nuts.'

Audrey's fingertips had left greasy smudges on her wine glass. ‘My dad used to have
this saying—if you put a screaming man behind a curtain, you can still hear him,'
she said. ‘I think that's sort of what he meant.'

‘I've never heard that.'

‘I think he probably made it up.'

‘I don't know if I get it.'

Audrey shrugged. She went back to pulling apart her bread.

‘You okay?' Julian asked. ‘You look a bit beaten.'

‘I'm fine.'

Julian pulled out his phone, tapped at its lit screen as though he were alone.

They walked home along the beach, not speaking much. Audrey waded in the shallows.
She stopped to look at a plane flying in and thought about how she didn't even notice
them anymore. When she'd first moved here they'd seemed so loud and close she'd waited
for one to crash through the ceiling. Julian was waiting up ahead, still wearing
his shoes.

‘That's a nice dress,' he said.

Audrey knew he was looking at the wet cotton plastered to her thighs, and she felt
tired of him, but she kissed him anyway. He
tilted his head to the air and said,
‘I love how you just get it. It's like you've got no expectations at all.'

Audrey stared at him. His expression was oblivious, placid. They were still standing
close.

‘Don't be a dick,' she said. ‘You can't just reel people in and out.'

‘What do you mean?'

‘I mean—there's a difference between having no strings, and treating somebody like
shit.'

‘I'm sorry,' said Julian. ‘I didn't mean to be mean.'

‘Are you an only child?'

‘What?' He dropped back. ‘I said I was sorry. Is this about the hospital the other
night?'

‘You seem to think I want to own you or something, and I don't.'

The two of them looked at the sand in speechless discomfort.

‘We're not getting along any more, are we?' said Julian after a while. ‘We'll just
have to get a divorce.'

Adam came up to visit for the Labour Day weekend. He, Audrey and Claire went to dinner.
They sat at a table on the pavement. They drank champagne. Adam and Claire had not
caught up in years, and they beamed at each other, spoke in punchlines and bursts
of laughter. It reminded Audrey of Katy, but in a happy way: she remembered what
it was to share Adam with someone else.

Claire dropped them both at Neptune Street afterwards. She came inside to say hello
to the others. They made a funny ensemble in the lounge room. Julian had been looking
after Elliott. El was thinner after the accident; the anaesthetic had made him sick
and he hadn't eaten for a week. But he'd returned to school. He'd bounced back quickly,
as the paediatric surgeon said he would. He showed Audrey his scars. Still healing:
they made her mouth taste metallic.
You don't even need your spleen
, he explained.

He and Julian had fallen asleep on the couch with eyeliner
moustaches pencilled over
their lips.

‘We tried to give El a Dalí one,' Pip said, ‘but he looks more like Gomez from
The
Addams Family
.'

Elliott lifted his head and gave a sleepy, wicked smile. ‘Frank said, “You're shithouse
at keeping still, mate,”' he drawled, and they laughed.

Adam did his wonderful trick of settling in, putting everyone at ease, making jokes
as though he were the host of a party.

When he climbed into bed beside Audrey that night, he was quiet.

‘You look really good, Spence,' he said. ‘Since you moved up here, you look better.
Come here. I'll spoon you.'

Audrey lay facing the window. The streetlight cut through the open blinds. She fit
into the curve of Adam's body. They'd slept like that as teenagers. They'd top-and-tailed
with Katy, the three of them squished into her bed.

‘Adam?'

‘Hm?'

‘What do you want to do tomorrow?'

‘Let's think about it tomorrow. Let's get up and eat breakfast and think about it
then.'

‘What do you think of the house?' Audrey asked.

‘I like it a lot. I'm glad you've got friends to play with,' Adam said. ‘But can
I tell you something? I don't think I like Julian.'

‘I don't think I do, either. We fuck. That's all.'

‘Don't be so
hard
about it.' Adam was speaking into her neck, brushing her hair with
his hand. ‘I don't recognise you when you get like that.'