The morbids, p.19
The Morbids, page 19
‘Boy or girl?’
‘Boy. As it should be.’ The car turned, and outside I saw a line of trees. I didn’t come to Balmain often, wasn’t sure where we were. ‘Everyone thinks because of the song that Luka is a girl’s name but she was singing about a boy.’
I smiled. ‘Her neighbour, right?’
I’m ok. Just work driving me nuts. Sorry.
‘Yeah.’
The car turned again, onto Victoria Road. My eyes followed the darkened storefronts, the tyre yards.
‘He had a doctor’s appointment today. Nothing serious, but Ailie, my wife, wasn’t well, so I took him. I don’t usually have a car seat in here.’
I nodded, not sure what else to say.
So long as it’s just that. Coffee Monday for sure.
I bit my lip. It wasn’t just that.
I had to tell her. I didn’t know why I hadn’t told her yet.
We turned again, curved around the end of the bay into the bottom of Annandale, under the bridge. I looked out the window. Terrace houses.
Or row houses. In New York they had stoops; they were different but they were the same. I’d seen them in movies.
The car turned. Gerry went to say something else and then everything went white.
23
THURSDAY, AUGUST
‘Hey.’
I looked up from the fridges, felt my heart shift at the sight of Tom sliding onto his usual stool. Still. It had been weeks, but looking at him still made this happen, made me want to fall into him and never come out. He still made me feel so much. I was being careful, but whenever I saw him, when his eyes found mine and he looked at me, I forgot why I had to be.
‘Hi,’ I said. He seemed tight, tired. ‘Long day?’
‘Yeah.’ He shook his head, smiled. ‘Better now.’
I stood up, gave him a quick kiss over the bar. ‘Good.’
‘How was your night?’
I looked around. The bar was a mess. ‘Busy. Rachel was in here earlier and we had some big corporate dinner. I hope you don’t mind waiting.’
‘It’s okay.’ He smiled again, looser this time. ‘I like watching you work.’
I grinned playfully. ‘You just like me making you drinks,’ I said, turning to the whiskies.
He laughed. ‘It does make you seem nurturing and trustworthy.’
I bit my lip as I found the right bottle. I didn’t feel trustworthy.
‘Ew,’ Nic said, watching us. ‘Holly, the straights are being gross again.’
Holly came around the bar and dropped a fistful of empties into the bin.
‘Let them have this one thing,’ she teased. ‘Look at Caitlin, she’s all giggly and stuff.’
I giggled, as though to prove her point.
Tom watched us, his face brightening. ‘Sorry about them,’ I said, raising my voice enough so they could hear. ‘They’re children.’
‘It’s fine.’ He shook his head. ‘I like you giggly and stuff too.’
Holly looked between us. ‘Nic and I are going to the casino and he thinks you should come,’ she said. ‘Both of you.’
Tom caught my eye, raised an eyebrow in question.
‘Come on,’ Nic said, before I could answer. ‘You haven’t been out with us in weeks.’
I looked at Tom. ‘What do you think? You look tired.’
‘A little.’ He sighed, downing his whisky in one go.
Something bit at me; a niggle, a chill. I brushed a strand of hair off my face and found his eyes. ‘You okay?’
‘Yeah. Just work stuff. I promise.’ He gave Holly a smile. ‘The casino? Really?’
‘It’s classier than it looks,’ she said. ‘I promise.’
He looked at me. God, he was beautiful. I smiled, despite myself. ‘Fine,’ he said. ‘No shots, though.’
‘Oh no,’ she said, feigning innocence. ‘Never. They don’t sell them that late anyway. We drink cocktails, mostly.’
I studied him as she walked away, touched the bar. Still there. ‘Are you sure? We can just go back to yours.’
‘I’m sure, Cait. We can go back to mine afterwards.’
I looked around. ‘If I ever get out of here, that is. Nic’s made a mess back here.’
Tom grinned. ‘I’m sure you can handle it.’
‘Oh—’ I laughed ‘—I can.’
I turned to the coffee machine and picked up two empty milk jugs, the last dregs of froth coating their insides, took them over to the sink to rinse them.
‘Hey, Nones.’
I looked up. Dex was standing by the sink, arms crossed, leaning against the wall. I frowned, letting the jugs fill and then turning the tap off. ‘What?’
‘I need some wine.’
I rolled my eyes. ‘Don’t we all?’
‘Ha ha,’ he drawled. ‘No, we’re all out of merlot in the kitchen. For the rib eye.’
‘And you’ve forgotten where it’s kept out the back?’
He shifted. ‘I can’t find it.’
I pushed a brush into the first jug, ran it around the edges. Tepid milky water spilled out over my hands. ‘Third shelf, under the pinot.’
‘I looked there.’
‘Look again,’ I said, emptying the jug and starting on the second one. ‘I’m busy.’
‘You have to go down there to stock anyway, don’t you?’
‘Yeah. To stock the bar.’
He sighed. ‘When did you get so unhelpful, Winona? I remember when you used to bring me a coffee at the start of every shift, and I didn’t even have to ask.’
‘We’re all young and foolish once. Just look at Emma.’
He didn’t answer, but he didn’t move either. I emptied the second jug and held it up, giving in because I knew he wouldn’t. ‘Fine,’ I said, ‘I’ll go down in a sec.’
‘You’re a gem.’ He pushed off the wall. ‘Truly.’
‘Fuck off.’
‘I mean it. Hey …’ He put his hand out, pressed a thumb into my arm and rubbed. I stiffened at the unexpected contact. ‘You’ve got some coffee grounds there.’
I pulled my arm away. ‘Right. Thanks.’
‘No, thank you, Nona.’ He fixed his eyes on me, and then walked away. I looked back down at the sink, annoyed, tired, faintly confused.
‘You right, Cait?’ Nic asked from behind me.
I nodded. ‘All good.’
I set both jugs by the sink, turned back to where Tom was sitting. He was watching me, holding his whisky up in front of his face, and when he caught my eye he gave me a smile, but it was small and unsure, and it took me a moment to return it.
At the casino, we arranged ourselves into the same overstuffed gold and pink lounges we always occupied. I sat on Tom’s lap, even though I probably didn’t need to, even though it made Nic wrinkle his nose in disgust. I wanted to be closer to him, to savour the feeling of his hand on my waist, mine locked around his neck. Nic told him story after story, some of them silly and pointless and others ending with some nice thing I’d done or some way I’d saved his arse at work and I could tell he was trying to impress Tom, trying to make sure I impressed him. Tom would laugh and tease me and I watched him, my heart thundering at the look on his face, open, warm, bright. Happy, his earlier weariness fading away, replaced with the brightest light in the whole room, brighter than any thousand-bulb chandelier and all the pokie screens, and warmer than every single one of the fake fires that decorated the edges of the gaming floor. A word kept knocking around my stomach, a big word, almost too big.
When Tegan finished she came over and sat next to Holly and the two of them started talking softly and Tom pulled me closer and closer with every cocktail, his hands creeping under my shirt and his mouth seeking mine out more and more frequently. He was watching me even more intently than usual.
‘What?’ I asked at one point.
He shook his head. ‘You’re so beautiful,’ he said.
My whole body fizzed. ‘You too.’
He went on, as though I hadn’t spoken. ‘You know how I feel about you, don’t you?’
I smiled. ‘I think so.’
His hands tightened around my waist and he put his head on my shoulder.
‘You sure everything’s okay?’ I asked.
He exhaled. I felt it on my skin. ‘I hope so.’
I caught a frown flicker across his face. ‘Tom?’
He paused. ‘So before,’ he started. ‘At Sawyer’s. Who was that?’
‘What?’
‘The chef you were talking to.’
‘Oh.’ I felt myself straighten. ‘That’s just Dex.’
Tom laughed. ‘Wait? The Dex?’ I hesitated, unsure what he meant. ‘MasterChef Dex?’
I breathed out. ‘The one and only.’
He gave me a look. ‘You two seemed—’
‘No.’ I knew I sounded strange. ‘He’s just like that. It’s nothing.’
His jaw twitched. ‘You sure?’
I was vaguely aware of Nic sitting next to me, staring into the middle distance and not saying a word. ‘Of course,’ I said, smiling, not sure I felt like smiling.
Nic moved, leaned forward to pick up his drink, still not saying anything, but I felt his eyes on me.
‘Hey,’ Tom said softly, changing the subject as I leaned in closer to him. ‘It’s my sister’s birthday in a couple of weeks. Come for dinner?’
I blinked, momentarily disoriented. ‘To meet your sister?’
He shrugged. ‘Maybe my mum.’
My eyes widened. ‘Really?’
‘Really. If you want to.’
‘Really?’ I asked again, a warmth spreading through my chest.
He laughed. ‘God, you’re adorable. It’s not that big a deal.’
‘Meeting your family?’ I shook my head. ‘Of course it’s a big deal. They make movies about how big a deal it is.’
He laughed again.
‘Are they like you?’
‘Like me what?’ He frowned.
‘You know.’ I touched his chin. ‘Polite. Nice. Doctorly.’
‘I guess. Except Sarah. She’s an architect.’
‘How embarrassing for you.’
‘Yeah, we don’t talk like to talk about it.’ He grinned. ‘So? Mum’s asking to meet you.’
I raised an eyebrow. ‘You’ve told her about me?’
A flicker of uncertainty crossed his face. ‘Of course I have.’
My heart thumped in my chest, reminding me it was there.
‘Please?’
‘Yes. Of course. What night? I’ll need to get Nic to—’
‘Tuesday. Not next week but the one after.’
My breath caught.
‘I have plans,’ I said, looking down at my lap. ‘Lina, remember?’
‘I know, but it’s the only night Sarah can get a babysitter.’ He sounded confused. ‘And I’m not working and …’
I squeezed my fingers into a fist.
He noticed, frowned, his hand loosening on my hip. ‘Lina will understand, won’t she? Can you two have dinner on Monday? Or weekend brunch or something?’
A part of me wanted to say we could, wanted to skip group and meet his family, maybe never go back, never have to lie to him again. But something stopped me. The photo. Something else.
Careful.
‘I don’t know.’ I paused. ‘With the wedding and everything, she’s kind of …’
I could feel his eyes on me, but I couldn’t look at him. I’d never met anyone’s mum before, except once unintentionally, after a big night. It seemed too soon to meet his. It seemed like a lot, a step. A part of me wanted it so much but it was too soon.
I hadn’t even mentioned him to my family, I realised. Whenever Mum rang all she wanted to talk about was Lina and the wedding and it had never felt like the time. I bit my lip, feeling my chest tighten.
He sighed. ‘Okay. Maybe next time.’
I reached for his hand, feeling guilty. ‘I can ask,’ I said slowly. ‘If it’s—’
‘No, it’s okay.’ But it didn’t feel it. ‘Don’t worry.’
‘Are you sure?’
He took a moment to answer. ‘Yeah.’ His hands tightened around me again. ‘We’ll work something out. Another night.’
I relaxed, just a little. ‘Thank you.’
‘You’re a good friend,’ he said. ‘I’m looking forward to meeting her.’
I tried to meet his eye. ‘I know,’ I said. ‘Soon. We’ll have lunch or something.’
‘Maybe I can crash one of your Tuesday dinners.’
‘Maybe.’
He looked at me again. ‘Are you all right?’
I nodded. Everything hurt. ‘Yeah.’
‘It’s fine, Cait.’ He squeezed my waist, smiled. Genuine, like it really was. ‘You can meet Mum another time.’
‘I know.’ It was fine. As long as I was careful, everything would be fine. ‘I’ve just got a headache. The noise.’
He sat back, studied me. ‘Should we go?’
I looked around. Nic had stopped watching me and was deep in conversation with Tegan and Holly, and I wasn’t lying about the headache. The cocktail churned in my stomach and suddenly I felt completely exhausted.
‘Yeah,’ I said. ‘Let’s go.’
We walked back to his apartment in silence, our feet never quite finding the same rhythm, so his hand kept pulling mine in the wrong direction, or I was pulling him. At one point he let go completely, knotting his fingers together and looking down at them as he walked.
‘You know,’ he said, studying his palms. His voice was slow, deliberate. ‘If this is too much for you, or you need space or time or anything, you can just tell me.’
I stopped walking, or maybe he did. We both did. I looked at him. His eyes were down and he looked worried and I hated that I’d caused it. I wanted to tell him everything, but I also wanted to tell him it was fine, everything was fine.
I wanted everything to be fine.
‘I know you haven’t done all this before and it’s all been really intense and if you …’
I could just nod, I thought. I could just say he was right. But I felt a rush of fear, of what that might mean. I didn’t want it to slow down. I didn’t want space. I wanted him. Still. So much it made my eyes water.
‘No,’ I said, my voice breaking. ‘No, I’m sorry. It’s okay.’
I wasn’t sure it was, but it was going to be. I was going to make it okay.
He looked at me. His eyes holding mine so entirely my breath caught. ‘Cait, I—’
‘What?’ I cut him off, too quickly. He frowned, surprised, opened his mouth as though he was about to go on, but didn’t. My stomach hurt. My chest. Pulmonary embolism. I didn’t even know what that was, except that it was fatal.
‘Nothing. It’s all good.’ He paused for a second, then took my hand, and we started walking again. He didn’t say anything else.
Back at his apartment, he kissed me, and I kissed him back, maybe a little too hard, strangely urgent, and we had strange, urgent sex, never quite finding the same rhythm. I’d feel his eyes on me, but when I looked at him he’d look away and everything felt too intense, too big. Words rattled around my head; big, small, short sentences, long stories, so many words I wanted to say but I couldn’t, and it took me a long, long time to fall asleep.
AUGUST, ONCE
I kept hearing the sound. So loud but so—not loud. Like a tin can, crumpling; a beer bottle falling onto concrete; plastic, snapping. I kept hearing it, over and over again. Loud, but not loud enough. It should have been louder. I’d always imagined it would be louder.
‘You should get checked out,’ the officer said. He wasn’t looking at me and I wasn’t looking at him. We were both looking at the ambulance, the gurney being wheeled into the back. Too slowly, the paramedic’s lips pressed too tight, no sense of urgency.
I nodded. My neck hurt. ‘I will.’
‘I can take you up to RPA.’
I kept hearing the sound. The silence. The sound. The silence.
‘Do I have to?’
He frowned. ‘You can go tomorrow. But you should get checked out, just in case. I’ll drive you home instead, if you prefer.’
‘I’m not far,’ I said. Lied. ‘My boyfriend lives around the corner, I’m just going to go there.’ So easy.
‘We can call him, get him to come and get you.’
I shook my head. My hair sparkled at the edge of my vision. Pink, like fairy floss. Glittery. Where had the glitter come from? ‘It’s fine.’
He shrugged. ‘I don’t like it, but I can’t force you.’ He handed me a card. ‘Give us a call on Monday. We’ll need a statement when you’re thinking a bit more clearly.’
‘I’m fine.’
I looked at the car. Bright red, a great big gaping crater in the side. I could see the baby seat through the space where the window used to be. Even from across the road in the dark I could see it was broken, bent, thrown across the car when the spot it was in disintegrated. That was my spot. The Caitlin seat. That was where I was supposed to be sitting. Statistically safest. I hadn’t even known that until Lina teased me about it. It probably wasn’t even true.
It wasn’t true now. It was a hole. An absence. A gap in the fabric, the metal, the plastic. My head was supposed to be where the missing window was, the twisted metal in line with my spine. I felt dizzy.
The van driver hadn’t seen us, hadn’t been looking. He was sitting in the gutter, head in his hands, another officer squatting over him with a notepad. Blond hair, cropped short. Work boots. Normal. You wouldn’t notice him on the street.
‘I’ve written another number on the back. Trauma team. In case you—’
I shook my head again. More glitter. Had there been glitter before? At—‘I’m fine.’ A party. A birthday. I couldn’t remember whose. ‘I’m okay.’
‘I know. But you might be in shock.’
‘I’m fine.’
‘I know it might not feel it, but you were lucky.’
I nodded. Lucky.
‘If I were you, I’d be buying a lottery ticket tomorrow, that’s for sure.’
‘I will,’ I said, not meaning it. ‘Thanks.’
But I kept hearing the sound.
I just needed to get home. Across the park, up the hill, left at the second street, up the steps, inside. I’d get home and make a cup of tea and it would all be okay. I looked at my phone. The screen was cracked. It wasn’t even midnight. Helen might still be awake. We could have tea together. She made good tea. I just had to get across the park. My shoulder hurt. My head hurt. I’d been drinking. Maybe that was why. Maybe it was shock. I wasn’t in shock. I was just tired. Dead tired.
