Authors: Kathryn Lomer

The Spare Room (10 page)

BOOK: The Spare Room

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We all piled into the Moffats' car. The engine turned over a few times but would not start. Alex tried again. The engine chugged once and was silent. It was so reminiscent of my first night there that I had an even greater feeling of unreality.

Not now! Alex bellowed.

I'd never heard him raise his voice before.

I'll go on the bike, I said.

Everyone turned to look at me. Then Angie said, I'll come with you.

The silence was thick. And knowing this family's past and the role bikes had played in their grief I was not surprised.

Are you sure? I said to Angie, but really to Alex and Jess as well.

Angie nodded. Jess nodded too. Then Alex.

We scrambled out of the car, pulled on helmets, got on the bike and roared away down the street.

When we got to the bus depot and showed Daisy's photo, there was an immediate response.

Yeah, she was here. Left on the 4.10. Thought it was strange she was travelling alone. Said she was meeting her brother there.

Angie ran and made a call to Alex and Jess from the public telephone. And then we took off.

That coast road is magnificent, hugging the sea after Orford with views you wouldn't believe. Angie, riding pillion, clung to me. The sun slid downwards on the other side of the island, turning the sky pink and pearl. It should have been romantic. Instead we were both upset and tense. Angie had dropped her guard, though. As she held on to me, I could feel her fear for her little sister.

When we got there, the shack was all locked up. But Angie spotted Daisy's school bag thrown to one side of the door. She began calling.

Maybe she's gone to the lighthouse, she said. It was always a favourite. Out of bounds.

We stood at the base of the lighthouse. Angie looked up. I looked up then away and tried not to let nausea get the better of me.

She might have gone up, Angie said. We used to do it all the time. All of us. Joey, Daisy and me. We weren't allowed to, of course. I used to dare them.

She's not up there, I said. I can't see anybody.

There's a part where you can get inside out of sight. I'm going up. Are you coming?

She began to climb the ladder which stretched up the side of the lighthouse. She turned and saw me still on the ground.

What's the matter? Angie called. Come on! We have to find her!

I fought down the feeling inside me which felt like a sinking boat. I looked up the length of the ladder and the top of the lighthouse swung in an arc above me. I took a few deep breaths and put my foot on the first rung.

I kept my eyes on the curved wall in front of me. I climbed slowly. I was only about halfway up when Angie called down from the top.

She's not here!

I briefly looked up at her face, hanging over the side, quite distant from me, like a moon. The face quivered and I clutched at the rails, closing my eyes. When I opened them and saw her face again, more clearly, I saw she was crying.

She's not here, Akira, she said again, quietly this time.

I don't know if it was the words or the crying or the fact that she said my name, actually said it, softly, gently, but I found myself near the top of the ladder. I took the last few steps up and suddenly Angie was there pulling me onto the landing.

Where can she be? she asked, sniffing and wiping her eyes.

We moved to the seaward side and leaned over, looking along the beach to the south. Things see-sawed a bit. I held on tightly to the railing. Something made me look down. There on the rocks below the lighthouse was the sprawled form of Daisy.

There she is! I shouted.

Angie took one look and screamed. It seemed as if she would jump over the railing.

I grabbed her and held her.

Down below us, Daisy moved. She rubbed her eyes and sat up and looked around. Then she looked up and saw us. She waved.

Angie and I waved like demented beings. The Moffats' car pulled up at the foot of the lighthouse. Alex and Jess sprang from the car and we pointed down to the rocks, shouting.

She's down there! She's fine!

Alex and Jess hurried to where Daisy was scrambling up the rocks. They grabbed her and all three embraced. They stood huddled together there on the rocks as if they might never let go.

Angie and I watched them in silence. I realised that I was still holding her tightly.

I've always been the risk-taker in our family, she said then. Joey was a model son, the golden boy. Good at school. Part-time job. Knew what he wanted from life. Gentle. Loving. Always got along with Mum and Dad. So different from me. I used to tell him he should let his hair down a bit. That motorbike was as wild as he got.

There are good risks, and there are stupid risks, I said, thinking of Angie's behaviour.

It should have been me, she said.

What? I said, holding her at arm's length. She wouldn't look at me.

It should have been me, she repeated.

It was an accident, Angie. He wouldn't want you to feel like that.

I miss him so much, she said.

Of course you miss your brother. You love him.

He's dead!

You still can love him, I said.

Angie began to cry quietly. She leaned her body against mine and I put my arms around her. She cried for a very long time.

A few days later, we all went to the cemetery where Joey was buried. No one had been visiting. It looked both new and neglected. All I could think was that each person in the family had been carrying this grave around in their own head. The heaviness of that image. Now, finally, they were there.

We'd brought flowers. Daisy had asked for the teddy bear she'd given me. Now she put it on the grave.

Your teddy's been awfully lonely, Joey. Akira's been keeping him company.

I thought of that day when I visited the cemetery, Satoshi, to tell you my news about Australia.

Jess and Alex stood with their arms around each other. Each of them, I noticed, looked doubly strong that way, half as tense. Daisy took Alex's hand and they all moved off.

I'll stay a bit longer, Angie said. You go on.

I followed the others. But at a little distance from the grave I turned to look back. I couldn't see Angie at first and felt anxious. I stood on a rock and then I saw her.

Angie lay full length and face down on her brother's grave, her arms holding the cold stone in an embrace.

Alex's dinghy was finally finished. The whole family including Gordon went to the beach by the shack to launch it. Stolly and I arrived on the bike just as Alex got out a bottle of champagne.

Oh good, said Stolly.

Alex raised the bottle above the bow of the boat which sat on the sand at the edge of the water. He brought it down on the gunwale. Nothing happened other than a soft thwacking sound.

He tried again.

Jess took the bottle from Alex, tore off the foil wrapping and popped the cork. Champagne erupted from the bottle and Jess held it briefly over the bow of the boat, then took a swig. She passed the bottle around for everyone to drink from. It didn't last long.

We all gathered around the boat and heaved it out into the shallows. Jess, Alex and Daisy hopped in. We pushed them off.

Jess stood up in the boat, making it wobble.

The oars! she called. We've forgotten the oars!

Alex stood up too and now the boat really tipped from side to side. Daisy screamed but you could see she was loving every moment.

Up there, Angie, Alex said, pointing up the beach.

Angie ran off and came back with both oars balanced across her outstretched arms. She waded into the water. One of the oars fell into the water. She passed the other one to her mother.

The two women stood for a moment holding either end of the oar. Angie gave Jess a smile. Jess took the oar into the boat.

Angie turned for the other oar and held it out. Alex took it and gave Angie a wink. He set the oars in their locks and settled himself to row.

The boat moved slowly away from shore, then faster as Alex got into a rhythm. We cheered and hooted. We watched them until they were well out in the bay. I missed Angie's voice. I looked around for her.

Further along the beach Angie was twirling over the sand with her arms held out and her head thrown back. Her skirt whirled around her. I couldn't decide which was a better sight, the shiny new dinghy bobbing beautifully or the beautiful girl looking happy and free.

Stolly rode the bike back to town because he had to work. The rest of us stayed on at the shack. Even now I can remember the smell of that shack. The sea smell, kerosene lamps, woodsmoke. Angie's perfume, the one I'd bought her by default.

Everyone relaxed. I cooked dinner and kept glasses filled with wine. Angie read stories to Daisy. I suppose this was the kind of picture I had imagined way back, what seemed like aeons ago, before I went to Australia. The happy family. The relaxed lifestyle.

I was sleeping on the floor in the living room. I lay awake after the others went to bed, enjoying the sound of the open fire as it died down. Just as I was drifting off, a door opened. Angie came walking barefoot across the room with a candle in her hand. I kept my eyes closed and smelled that perfume.

Are you awake? she whispered.

Yes, I said. I'm awake.

I opened my eyes. Angie was wearing the green dragon robe she'd been wearing when I first saw her. She came and sat down next to my sleeping bag. I was intensely aware of her smell and her closeness. I felt self-conscious about my bare chest and arms. She put the candle down on the floor beside us.

I've been thinking, she said.

Good, I said.

She laughed.

I've been thinking. And I think that you've lost someone too. Someone close. That's how you know.

I nodded. She reached out and touched my face.

Do you want to tell me about it? she said.

I hesitated. I had carried you around with me unshared for such a long time. It was hard to know how to tell. But I so wanted to.

Oniisan?
Angie said.

Satoshi was my best friend, I began.

Angie lay down on the floor with her head propped on one elbow.

We did everything together. He â¦ it was too much for him. School. Pressure â¦

Angie reached her other hand over and took mine and we lay like that for what seemed like half the night, talking in soft tones. I told her lots about you, our jokes and plans. She told me about Joey. Outside, waves breaking on sand lent a gentle rhythm to our stories. A long time later we must have fallen asleep, because when I woke the next morning, Angie was still curled asleep beside me, still holding my hand. Someone had put a blanket over her.

A month later, I took off on the first stage of my trip. The family waved me off and made me promise to send postcards. They said they would keep the room just the way it was for when I came back. Angie kissed me right in front of everyone and Daisy hugged me like she would never let me go. Funny how leaving them was a happy thing now. I carried them with me the way I carry you with me. Part of me.

I set off along the coast. As I roared along, I began composing a letter in my head.

Dear Mum and Dad,

Well, it's time to come clean. There are a few things I haven't told you. First, I've discovered that I'm good at a few things â languages for one, cooking for another. I've even saved a man's life. I've had a job for a while, which I got through a Greek friend of mine. With the money I've saved I've bought a motorbike. I'm off on a trip round Tasmania. Then to the mainland. As for my future, well, I guess I'll have some time on this trip to think about what I'd like to do. I've got a few ideas â¦

First published 2004 by University of Queensland Press
PO Box 6042, St Lucia, Queensland 4067 Australia
Reprinted 2006, 2008, 2010

www.uqp.com.au

This book is copyright. Except for private study, research, criticism or reviews, as permitted under the Copyright Act, no part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any foram or by any means without prior written permission. Enquiries should be made to the publisher.

Typeset by University of Queensland Press