House of Sticks Page 4
‘Yeah, okay, I’ll get them out in a sec.’ She watched Edie and Louie splashing in their goggles and breathed slowly, trying to ease the annoyance that squeezed her chest. For fuck’s sake. It’s one hour a week and she can’t wait to get away.
‘And how was your swim?’ said Suzanne.
‘All right.’ She kept her eyes on the children in the water. ‘I’ve got a way to go.’
‘You’ll get there. You managed to bounce back after those whopping great twins — you’ll be fine. And Jess is only — what? — five months now?’
‘Nearly.’
‘Well, five months isn’t really all that long, in terms of your recovery. So don’t worry too much just yet.’
There was a silence.
Suzanne sat up straighter, crossed her legs. ‘Let them play a bit longer,’ she said. ‘I can hang around an extra ten minutes. I just wanted to get to that boutique in Clifton Hill before I had to head back in time for bridge, that’s all.’
Bonnie tugged at her towel. The annoyed feeling was still there, and showed in her voice, its chilly formality. ‘Are you sure?’
‘Yes, yes — really, it’s all right. No hurry.’
There was another silence.
Come on. She’s trying.
Suzanne settled back on the bench. ‘So what else is news?’
Bonnie took a breath, smoothed her voice, made it friendly. ‘Not much. Pete’s got his old friend Doug working for him again. Remember — you would’ve met him at that barbeque we had, you know, at the old house, when Pete got that bar fit-out?’
‘Doug.’ Suzanne frowned. ‘Don’t remember him.’
‘Yes, you do. Skinny guy, bit manic, little bit older. Talks all the time. Calls me Missus Bonnie.’
‘Oh, him. Mad as a snake, that feller.’
‘Well, he’s driving me crazy. He turns up at seven-thirty, sits around the kitchen eating porridge that Pete makes for him. And I’m trying to get the kids organised and he just keeps playing with them and — Oh, it doesn’t sound that bad when I say it, but …’ She pushed back her hair. ‘It’s not what he does, it’s just him — he’s really intrusive. You know, watches everything you do and has some comment ready. Makes these jokes that are actually jibes at me, and … or, I don’t know, maybe I’m just paranoid. Maybe I’m sensitive to everything he says now, ’cause I’ve tuned into it.’
‘So what’s he doing for Pete, exactly?’
‘Just odd jobs in the workshop. I don’t know really.’
‘Well, is he a carpenter or anything?’
‘I don’t think so. I think he just does easy stuff — you know, sanding or whatever.’ She half stood. ‘Louie! Edie! Over this way, please, where I can see you.’ She waited until they came closer.
‘Hold on,’ said Suzanne. ‘Hasn’t there already been an issue with this Doug feller? Didn’t he make a big mistake last time, get an order wrong or something?’
‘Yeah.’
‘What happened again?’
‘Well. These people rang up and changed their order. Pete had gone off somewhere and left his phone.’ Bonnie rolled her eyes. ‘So Doug took it upon himself to answer Pete’s phone and underquoted them by, like, fifteen hundred dollars. Pete didn’t find out until he went to make the delivery. So what could he do? He had to just give it to them for the cheaper price.’
‘Yes, well, that’s no good. You can’t have someone like that working for you.’
‘But, Mum, the thing was that Doug wouldn’t admit it was his fault. When Pete asked him he swore black and blue he quoted them the right price. Even though he’d written the wrong price down in the book. He even tried to say it was just his messy writing — that Pete couldn’t read the numbers properly.’
‘Did Pete blame Doug?’
‘Yeah, of course. But I don’t think he pushed it. I think he just let it go. But Doug was offended anyway.’
‘And feeling guilty too, I imagine.’
‘I don’t know about that. He’s a pretty weird guy. I wouldn’t be surprised if he convinced himself it really wasn’t his fault.’ She stood up. ‘Anyway, that was the last we heard of him — until now. Come on, we’d better get these kids in the showers.’ She went to the edge of the pool. ‘Edie! Louie! Time to get out.’
Edie looked up at her, flashed a smile and blithely splashed off in the other direction.
‘Right.’ Bonnie went along the edge a bit, closer to where they were. ‘Edie! Louie! Out now or there’ll be no hot chocolates!’
‘The thing is, Mum,’ she said, as they herded the kids out to the car park, ‘with this whole Doug business — I mean, one of the things I love so much about Pete, and really admire in him, is his generosity. He really is one of the kindest people I know. And I wish I was more like that myself. You know?’ She stopped at the car, felt in her bag for the keys. ‘I mean, poor Doug — he’s got troubles, obviously. He never has any money. He doesn’t own any property or assets.’
‘What’s he spend all his money on then?’
‘I don’t know. Gambling, I think. He’s into the horses.’
‘Then he’s only got himself to blame for that.’
‘Yeah, well. But, you know what I mean — he’s on his own. I’ve never heard of him being in any sort of relationship — a girlfriend, or anything. And I don’t think he’s got much support in terms of family or whatever, and he doesn’t seem to have many friends.’ Bonnie pulled out the keys, unlocked the car. ‘He really is a lost soul. And we’ve got — you know, it’s no skin off my nose if someone else eats a bit of our porridge in the mornings — why should I begrudge him that? And the kids do really love him.’ She looked across at Edie and Louie, who were swinging on a rail. ‘He reads them stories and all that, and, you know, it probably means a lot to him, that contact, if he’s as lonely as he seems —’
‘Yes, but, Bonnie, this is business we’re talking about. That bloke sounds like a liability.’ Suzanne leaned over to kiss her cheek. ‘You need to put a stop to it.’
Doug’s van wasn’t out the front when they got home.
‘Where’s Douggie?’ said Louie.
‘Don’t know, darling. Maybe he’s gone out to get something.’
‘Some wood?’
‘Yeah. Maybe some wood.’
All afternoon she found herself listening out. Glancing towards the hallway, the front door. Doug didn’t return though. She saw Pete go down along the side of the workshop to the outside toilet at some point, but he didn’t come up to the house.
When he did come in, at five-thirty, she was at the stove stirring a cobbled-together pasta sauce of canned tuna and tomatoes.
‘Smells good.’ He put his arms around her.
‘The only part of it not to come out of a can is the onion.’
‘Well, it still smells good. I’m hungry. I’ll just go and get cleaned up.’
‘Wait.’ Bonnie turned and reached up to him. She kissed him, his face and neck. ‘I’m sorry I’ve been so horrible.’
‘That’s okay.’ He gave her a quick smile and went to move away.
‘Wait.’ She pulled him close again, kissed him on the lips this time, breathed his sweet wood smell. She reached under his shirt and put her hands to his skin. ‘I missed you today. Sometimes I feel like I hardly see you, even though you’re just out there.’
Pete kissed her back. She could feel him leaning into her, responding. ‘Where’re the kids?’ he whispered.
‘Listening to talking books.’
‘Oh, really?’ He grinned and pulled her top untucked, slid his hand up to her breast. The two of them shuffled, still kissing, until Bonnie was pressed up against the bench. She could feel him getting hard, pushing against her thigh.
There was a wail from the other side of the room. Pet
e let go and straightened up. ‘Who’s that? Is that Jess?’
‘Oh god.’ Bonnie gave a defeated laugh. ‘Yeah, it’s Jess. I forgot about her. She’s in her chair.’
‘Bugger.’ He worked his hands back under her clothes. ‘Maybe she’ll stop,’ he whispered.
‘I don’t know about that.’
Jess wailed again. Pete sighed and tucked his shirt in. ‘I’ll just wash my hands and stuff and then I’ll get her.’
‘Okay.’ Bonnie turned back to the stove.
‘So guess what?’ said Pete at dinner.
‘What?’
‘No, Mum — you have to guess,’ said Edie.
‘Um … You’re secretly a woman,’ said Bonnie.
‘Bonnie!’ Pete frowned and jerked his head at the kids. ‘You’ll confuse them.’
‘Dad’s not a woman!’ Louie laughed, mouth full of pasta.
‘He’s a man,’ said Edie. ‘You’re a woman, Mum.’
‘And I’m a boy and Edie’s a girl,’ said Louie. ‘And Jess is just a baby.’
Pete stabbed more pasta on his fork. ‘So does anyone want to actually hear my news?’
‘Yes.’
‘Yes, please, Mum.’
‘Yes, please, Pete.’ She smiled across at him.
‘Well, you remember Grant, who owns Juno?’
‘Yeah.’
‘He’s opening another bar. And he wants me to do the fit-out again.’
‘Pete, that’s fantastic.’ Bonnie got up and went around the table, put her arms round his shoulders and kissed him. ‘That’s such good news.’
‘What’s happened?’ said Edie.
‘What’s a sit-out?’ said Louie.
‘Fit-out,’ said Pete. ‘A fit-out is when someone builds all the furniture in a place, like a shop or a restaurant. You know how I make furniture — table and chairs and things? Well, this guy wants me to make lots of furniture for him.’
‘It means Dad’s got lots of work to do,’ said Bonnie.
‘It means we don’t have to worry about money for a while,’ said Pete, and squeezed her hand.
Pete sat down on the edge of the bed to unlace his shoes. ‘We should go out for dinner sometime,’ he said. ‘To celebrate.’
She looked up from her book. ‘Yeah. We should.’
His voice was muffled as he bent over. ‘Well, let’s actually do it this time.’
‘Yeah, I know. But it’s just so hard, organising someone to babysit, and worrying about if Jess needs to be fed and all that.’
He sat up again. ‘What about your mum?’
She sighed.
‘Just ask her.’ Pete stood and unbuttoned his shirt. ‘I mean, she’s their grandmother. You’d think she’d want to spend the time with them.’ He tossed the shirt over a chair. ‘Or at least do it to help you out.’
Bonnie sank lower in the bed. She felt exhaustion drag at her, her limbs weighed down with it. ‘I know. It’s just — she’s so hard to pin down. I just, I feel like it’s not worth the effort.’
Pete undid his belt. ‘Does she know she’s not normal?’
She closed her eyes.
‘Does she know that most people — all our friends, Greg and Kylie, and Mel and Josh, everyone — they’ve got parents who actually help out with the kids? Weren’t you just telling me Mel’s mum takes Freddie for whole weekends? Imagine that.’
She put her arm across her face. ‘Yeah, but Freddie’s an only child. One kid, that’s easy — three’s just, well, it feels like too much to ask. And anyway, Jess’s too young. Maybe one day, when they’re all a bit —’
‘Yeah, right, like she’ll just suddenly start helping one day, after doing nothing for five years.’ There was the sound of him taking coins from his pocket and putting them on the bedside table. ‘Hasn’t she got friends who’re grandparents? Doesn’t she know that’s what they’re supposed to do?’
She opened her eyes again. ‘Come on, Pete.’
‘What? You think because she gave us that money she doesn’t need to do any more?’
Bonnie didn’t answer.
‘We didn’t ask for that money.’
‘I know.’
‘We would’ve been okay. Eventually.’
‘Pete. It covered almost the whole deposit for this house.’
His voice softened. ‘Why would you do that? It just seems really weird to me that someone would give away half of their dead husband’s life insurance like that. She could’ve retired. Gone travelling.’ He looked down at her. ‘I mean — why?’
‘I don’t know. I guess she does want to help us out. But just — on her terms.’ She put her fingers to her temples. ‘And it’s a bit unfair, all the pressure being on her. I mean, if she wasn’t the only one — if Dad was still around, or if your parents lived in Melbourne …’
‘They’re too old now anyway. They’d probably try, but I doubt they’d be capable of much.’
There was a silence.
‘The thing is … I just don’t know why a grandmother wouldn’t want to spend time with her grandchildren.’ He threw his jeans on the chair. ‘And why doesn’t she do it just to help you out?’
‘I don’t know.’ Bonnie yawned. ‘I didn’t ask her if she wanted to be a grandmother.’ She pulled the covers further up. ‘Anyway. It’s not like it would’ve stopped us from having the kids — if we’d known she wasn’t going to be on board.’
‘Yeah, I guess not.’ He sat down and touched her hair. ‘But we had no idea, did we? What it was going to be like.’
She smiled and shook her head. ‘Absolutely no idea.’
He got into bed.
‘So …’ She let her book slide to the floor. ‘When did you find out?’
‘Find out what?’
‘About the new job for Grant?’
‘Last night.’
She switched off her lamp and moved closer, rested her head on his shoulder. ‘So why didn’t you tell me then?’
‘Well, you know, we had that fight.’
‘Oh.’
‘And then this morning you were in such a bad mood I thought I’d leave it for later.’
‘I’m sorry. I feel like such a harpy.’ She kissed his neck. ‘You know I hate being like that. It’s just … I’m always tired, and I find it so stressful with Doug around and —’
‘Let’s not talk about Doug.’ Pete turned towards her, slid down so their faces were level. He kissed her and moved closer.
Bonnie shut her eyes. She tried to let go, to lose herself in the kissing and the touching, to sink into that fluid place where there was no thinking, only their bodies together. But she couldn’t. She had to keep pressing words back. But where was Doug this afternoon? Will he be back in the morning? Behind her eyelids came the vision of Doug at the door, the bob of his head, the solicitous grin. Pete put his mouth on her breast, and she couldn’t help it, she squirmed, only just managed not to push him away.
‘You okay?’
She nodded. ‘That tickles.’ She concentrated on his smell, the taste of his skin. In her head she took herself back to that camping trip, to looking out at the wallaby, silent in the grainy dawn light. The pale trunks of the trees towering, just visible, hanging like brushstrokes. Turning to Pete in the dark tent. The woodsmoke smell of him. Just the two of them there in all those miles of trees and scrub.
Pete was awake next morning when she came back to bed after feeding Jess. His eyes were closed, but Bonnie could tell by his breathing. ‘Pete?’ she whispered.
‘Mm?’
‘What’re you thinking about?’
‘Nothing. Trying to sleep.’
She rolled over to face him. ‘Yesterday,’ she said in a low voice. ‘What happened to Doug?’
/> He didn’t open his eyes. ‘What do you mean?’
‘Well, he wasn’t here all afternoon.’
‘Oh, I don’t know.’ He turned the other way. ‘He went off somewhere, to meet a friend or something.’
She lay looking at Pete’s back. She bit down on all the incredulous words that sprang to her mouth. So he just comes and goes as he pleases? You have no formal arrangement? You don’t even communicate about what’s happening on a day-to-day level?
‘Hey, Bon?’
She shut her eyes. How unfair, that Pete could afford to be so casual when she was the one picking up the slack. The one trapped, politely listening, while Doug told his bullshit stories and Pete drifted off as if somehow exempt. Or popping up like some horrible ghoul to drag the kids away, spoil their fun, because she knew if she didn’t Doug would just sit around reading stories all morning instead of working. The one tiptoeing, feeling watched and judged. Feeling she had to explain or justify herself, her behaviour, her parenting — in her own house.
‘Bon?’
She managed a ‘Hm?’ noise.
Pete rolled onto his back. ‘I need to get some timber. For this Grant job.’
‘Okay.’
‘Should we all go? Go away for a weekend? Family holiday?’
She opened her eyes. ‘Really?’
‘Why not? I think I’ll go back to that same guy as last time, near Orbost. He was good. I was thinking we could see if we could stay at Jim’s shack. It’s not far from there. It’ll be freezing, but could be fun. Get out of town.’
‘When?’
‘What about this weekend? Maybe we could even stay an extra day. Leave tomorrow morning. Do you think we could get organised that fast?’ Pete moved closer to her. ‘Be nice to spend some time together. And I wouldn’t mind getting away from the workshop for a while. Doug’s been driving me a bit crazy.’
Bonnie stared. She opened her mouth. A double layer of thought slid through her mind. The top layer was strident. It said: You have to get out of your own workshop because this friend who you don’t even know will turn up or if so for how long and has a history of fucking things up for you and your business is driving you crazy? And the bottom layer, which resonated like a bass line, said: Pete is kind and generous and tolerant and you, Bonnie, are not. Look at him, trying to help Doug and manage you at the same time. The poor man.