Night Beach (7 page)

knuckles,
and
I
keep
alternating
the
hand
holding
my
handlebars,
balling
the
other
into

a
fist
and
hiding
it
deep
in
my
pockets.

I’m
thinking
about
Kane
–
the
way
he
said,
‘You
can
have
it,
if
you
like.
If
you
still
want

it.’
How
when
he
was
crouched
down,
rubbing
my
leg,
he
looked
up
at
me.
And
I
get
a

sudden
surge
of
something
that
makes
me
grin
so
hard
it
hurts.

He’s
broken
up
with
Lauren,
and
he
gave
me
a
lift
home.
He
noticed
me.

‘Are
you
kidding?
Are
you
kidding
me?’
I
shout
at
the
sky,
and
then
I
laugh
like
a
maniac.

This
is
what
I
love
about
life.

The
UP.
You
can
be
completely
down
and
out
one
moment,
and
in
the
next
you
feel
like

you’re
flying,
for
no
reason
at
all.

I
don’t
want
romance
and
stolen
kisses
and
sweetness
and
hand
holding.
I
want

something
so
big
it’s
like
two
planets
colliding,
with
an
aftershock
that
I
feel
for
the
rest

of
my
life.

Then
I
let
go
of
the
handlebars,
putting
my
arms
out
like
wings.

‘I’m
jumping,’
Joey
says,
bouncing
up
and
down
on
the
spot,
blocking
Jackie
who’s
trying

to
open
the
door
to
let
me
in.

‘You’re
always
jumping,’
I
tell
her,
breathless
from
the
cold,
not
the
bike
ride.
I
crouch

down
and
she
stops
long
enough
to
let
me
hug
her.
‘Sorry
I’m
late,’
I
say
to
Jackie.

She
looks
at
her
watch,
frowning.
‘You’re
three
minutes
early.
And
even
if
you
were,

well,
we’re
always
late
getting
back
for
you
so
it’d
even
things
up
a
bit.
Joey,
come
on,

out
of
the
way.’

Joey
runs
down
the
hallway,
her
blue
gumboots
clomping
on
the
wooden
floor.
Her
real

name
is
Mia,
Mia
Rose
Clarke.
It’s
because
she
jumps
like
a
kangaroo
–
a
baby
kangaroo

–
that
she’s
called
Joey.
She
is
one
of
the
best
people
I
have
ever
met.
What’s
ridiculous

is
that
I
get
paid
to
hang
out
with
her,
and
very
well
at
that.
This
drives
Anna
crazy.
She

used
to
make
$8.80
an
hour
working
at
Ice-‐Cream
Dreams
down
at
the
Junction.
What

drives
her
even
crazier
is
how
I
waste
the
money
I
earn.
She’s
getting
to
be
more
and

more
like
Mum
and
Brian
every
day.
Really,
they
should
all
start
a
bank
together:
The

Fun-‐Police
Credit
Union.

I
follow
Jackie
into
the
lounge
room.
She’s
dressed
in
her
usual
–
jeans,
a
jumper,

runners.
She
has
wash-‐and-‐wear
hair,
the
sort
you’d
see
in
the
‘before’
photo
of
an

advertisement
for
some
styling
product.
She
doesn’t
waste
time
on
herself.
As
a
person,

she’s
like
a
really
comfy
chair;
one
of
those
women
who
are
built
for
hugging.

Jackie
says,
‘Now,
before
I
go
we
should
work
out
–’

Joey
breaks
into
a
spell
of
power
jumping,
pumping
her
arms
like
pistons
to
gain
more

speed.

‘Yook
at
me,
Abbie.
Yook
at
me!’
Joey
is
three
and
a
half,
and
she
hasn’t
quite
got
the

hang
of
the
letter
L
yet.

Her
vigorous
pounding
makes
the
Clarkes’
collection
of
good
wineglasses
ring
inside

their
glass-‐fronted
display
cabinet.
Wine
is
the
Clarke
family
business,
so
when
I
say

good,
I
mean
really
good
glasses.
Riedel.
Handmade.
Each
one
cost
a
bomb.
And
that

information
didn’t
come
to
me
courtesy
of
Jackie
and
David
–
they’re
not
like
that
at
all.

It’s
from
Brian,
who
recently
bought
some,
which
meant
I
was
treated
to
a
lecture
on
the

correct
way
to
clean
them.
Hot
water,
apparently
–
no
detergent.
Hot
water,
air
dry
and

polish
with
a
soft
clean
cloth.
We
have
a
dishwasher,
but
these
glasses
are
so
extra

special
that
only
slave
labour
will
do.

‘Bloody
hell,
Joey,’
Jackie
says,
and
then
mutters
something
about
how
she
must
stop

swearing.
‘Honey,
outside
now!’

Honey,
the
Clarkes’
golden
retriever,
is
standing
with
her
head
over
the
childproofing

gate
that
blocks
the
doorway
to
the
kitchen,
tongue
out,
panting
away,
acting
like
she

hasn’t
heard.
The
gas
heater
is
going
and
Joey
has
toys
strewn
everywhere.
Chaos
is

business
as
usual
at
the
Clarkes’.

Joey
jumps
her
way
around
the
back
of
one
of
the
leather
lounges,
which
has
been

pulled
out
from
the
wall.
‘
Abbieee,
come
into
my
cave
with
me
and
Pinty.’

Joey
is
the
only
person
who
can
see
Pinty.

‘Excuse
me,
missy,
just
let
me
talk
to
Abbie
for
a
minute,’
Jackie
says.

Joey
starts
laughing
at
whatever
it
is
that
Pinty
is
doing.

Her
blonde
curls
appear
in
flashes
over
the
top
of
the
lounge.

The
wineglasses
inside
the
display
cabinet
keep
time.

Jackie
shakes
her
head,
appealing
to
me.
‘Honestly.’

‘Shipwreck.’

‘What?’

‘Shipwreck
ahead.
It’s
what
my
grandad
would
say.
If
the
rim
of
a
glass
rings
it
means

that
a
ship
is
going
to
wreck.’

Jackie
isn’t
listening.
She
presses
play
on
the
DVD
remote
and
the
Wiggles
come
on.
Like

magic,
Joey
comes
out
from
behind
the
couch
and
sinks
to
the
floor
in
front
of
the

television,
patting
the
space
beside
her
for
Pinty
to
sit
down,
her
gaze
locked
on
the

screen,
her
mouth
slack.

‘Right.’
Jackie
turns
her
attention
back
to
me
and
does
a
double
take.
‘Hold
on,
you’re

looking
sparky.
How’re
things
with
you?’

‘Pretty
good.’
I
squash
thoughts
of
Kane
and
try
to
clear
my
mind.
When
she’s
like
this,

Jackie
has
X-‐ray
vision.
Even
though
most
of
the
time
she
comes
across
as
distracted,

not
much
gets
past
her.
She
and
David
do
all
the
sales
and
marketing
for
her
mum
and

dad’s
winery,
and
a
couple
of
other
wineries
in
the
Hunter
Valley.
They
get
me
to

babysit
so
they
can
put
a
couple
of
hours
in
together
at
their
office,
which
is
in
the

industrial
area
at
the
back
of
the
Junction.
The
rest
of
the
time,
they
juggle
work
and

Joey
between
them,
because,
as
Jackie
said
to
me,
they
want
to
be
present
for
her.
Jackie

had
been
told
that
she
couldn’t
have
kids.
Joey
was
an
accident.
A
really
lucky
accident.

Jackie
seems
to
have
picked
up
on
my
evasiveness
and
narrows
her
eyes
at
me.
Her

glasses
are
straightedged
and
fashionable,
and
don’t
really
suit
her.
‘What’s
going
on?’

I
shrug.
‘Nothing.’

‘School’s
good?’

‘Especially
now
it’s
holidays.’

‘Anything
interesting
happening?
Or
should
I
say,
anyone
interesting?
You
look
like
it’s

an
anyone.’

I
get
this
dumb,
guilty
look.
I’m
actually
flushing.
‘No,
I’m
just
in
a
good
mood,
that’s
all.’

Jackie
keeps
peering
at
me.

‘Stop
it!’

She
seems
to
be
evaluating
whether
or
not
to
push
for
more,
but
must
realise
she’s
not

going
to
get
it,
because
she
changes
tack.
‘How’s
the
Visual
Arts
thing
coming
along?’

I
grimace,
and
Jackie
says,
‘Oh,
don’t
worry.
You’ll
get
it
done.’

I
wish
I
had
her
confidence.

‘I’d
love
to
see
it.
I
mean,
when
it’s
finished,’
Jackie
adds,
faux
casually.

I
nod.
Which
isn’t
quite
the
same
thing
as
saying
yes.

I’d
find
it
hard
to
say
no,
though.
Jackie’s
very
encouraging
on
the
art
front.
She
says
I

should
use
my
Visual
Arts
portfolio
to
apply
for
admission
into
an
arts
course
next
year.

Weirdly
enough,
I’d
never
thought
of
doing
that.
My
dad
completed
his
PhD
in
Sports

Science;
my
mum’s
a
lawyer
who
works
for
a
bank,
which
is
where
she
met
my
step-‐

dad,
the
economist;
and
my
sister
is
in
Canberra
doing
Asia
Pacific
Studies
and
Law
at

ANU.
It’s
not
out
of
the
realm
of
possibility.
It
just
hadn’t
been
in
the
realm
of
my

possibility.

Jackie
glances
at
her
watch.
‘Joey
had
a
rest,
but
she
didn’t
sleep,
the
little
bugger.
Don’t

let
her
stay
up
any
later
than
seven,
okay?’

‘Yep.’

‘Now,
I
wanted
to
ask
if
you
were
okay
with
staying
a
bit
longer
on
Friday
–
you
know

that
tasting
we
were
talking
about
doing?’

‘Oh
yeah.
How
late?’

‘Depending
on
how
it
goes,
we’d
be
home
by
ten,
ten-‐thirty.
Why?’
She
smiles
slyly.
‘Got

a
date?’

‘Wow,
that’s
subtle.
Yes,
I
can
stay
longer.’

‘Are
you
sure?
I
know
the
HSC
is
coming
up.
And
we’ve
already
got
you
booked
in
a
lot

this
week.’

I
pretend
to
think
it
over.
‘Should
be
okay.’

The
higher
school
certificate
would
have
to
be
one
of
the
most
convenient
things
ever

invented.
I
have
been
getting
out
of
stuff
all
year
by
saying
that
I’ve
got
to
study
for
the

HSC.

The
reality
is
that
I’ve
done
next
to
nothing.
I
keep
telling
myself
that
I’ll
get
serious

about
it
once
my
painting
is
finished.

Jackie
bends
down
in
front
of
Joey,
blocking
her
view
of
the
television.
‘You
have
fun

with
Abbie,
Missy
Moo.
Say,
“Bye,
Mum.
I
love
you.”’

‘Bye,
Mum,’
Joey
chirrups,
trying
to
see
around
her
to
the
screen.
‘I
yuv
you.’

Jackie
gives
her
a
hard
kiss
on
the
top
of
her
head.
When
she
straightens,
she
looks

embarrassed,
but
fierce,
too.
She’s
leaking
love
everywhere.
In
these
moments
I
feel