Living With Leanne (8 page)

‘But the tickets are
eighty
each. Where’re you gonna get 160 bucks? Plus the fares up to Melbourne. Plus your date’ll want food. Plus the single red rose. Get real, Cooja.’

‘Look. I’ve found out the only thing Gabby’s nuts about is Madonna. She’s not gonna say no, is she?’

‘Ask her yourself, then.’

‘I can’t. She might knock me back.
You
ask.’

‘So, the great Coojanovic can’t take rejection!’

I didn’t think he had any weak spots.

‘Go on,’ he says.

‘What’s in it for me?’

‘You can have Cathy.’

‘No way. I don’t want your leftovers.’

He’s squirming, ‘Okay, okay, I’ll do it. But I’d be better to ask her friend Eva, and she can tell Gabby, then …’

‘Just do it or I’ll be ready to retire an go on the old age pension!’

‘Okay!’

Sometimes he can really nag.

I end up finding Eva in a corner of the library studying the life cycle of a proton bomb or something heavily scientific. She’s got a funny bunched-up nose which holds up her wire-rims, and long brown hair in a thick braid thing. She looks like one of those hankie-head people without the hankie. And she kind of smells funny, like leftover tea bags.

‘Hi,’ I say.

She looks at me like I crawled out of the sea a few billion years ago.

‘Yes?’

‘Er … I’ve got a message for Gabby. Does she … I mean … would she like to go to the Madonna concert … like, for free?’

‘Why don’t you ask
her
? She’s over there by the physics section.’

‘Well, er …’

‘Who wants to take her? You?’

‘
No
. I mean, well, it’s this really top guy. He’s cool, good-looking … and it wouldn’t really be a date as such, more the sharing of a mutual interest.’

‘Hmm,’ she says, closing her book with a snap. I feel hopeful.

‘Come over here.’ She grabs me by the arm and hauls me across to where Gabby is reading. I catch my breath. She is a total babe close up. She smiles vaguely at me as Eva pushes me forward.

‘Go on. Ask her.’

‘It’s not for me, it’s for my … er … an admirer. He wants to take you to the Madonna concert.’

‘Oh.’

She tilts her head to one side and considers me carefully.

‘Who is he?’ says Eva.

It’s really none of her business but seeing she’s involved as a go-between like me, a kind of innocent bystander, I understand. I swallow. Here’s the bit where I get laughed out of the library.

‘Michael Coojanovic.’

‘
What
? Isn’t he that short little geek in Year 7?’

‘He’s not that short and he’s not really a geek,’ I say, feeling foolish.

‘He has tickets to Madonna?’

Now what do I say?

‘That’s what he told me.’

Gabby looks thoughtful. Eva nudges her.

‘It wouldn’t be a date,’ she goes. ‘Not with a little kid. Why don’t you grab the offer, get to see Madonna for free?’

Gabby looks at me.

‘Tell you what,’ she says sweetly, ‘I’ll only go if it’s a double date. Your friend can take Eva and … I’ll go with
you
.’

I nearly faint. This isn’t the way it’s supposed to pan out at all.

‘Er … no, you’ve got to go with him.’

‘He takes Eva, I go with you, or we don’t go at all!’

I think quickly.

‘I’ll have to confer with my associate. I shall return.’

I walk with dignity to the door. I can hear them giggling behind me.

‘What, what, what?’ Cooja’s hanging round anxiously at the bottom of the stairs.

‘Yes and no.’

‘What ya mean, yes and no?’

I tell him.

‘No way,’ he says. ‘Trust you to stuff it up. Betcha you came onto her or somethin. Some great mate
you
turned out to be.’

‘Did me best. If ya don’t like it you can get stuffed.’

‘Wait. Wait. All right, only you’ve gotta fork for yourself and Eva.’

‘My date’s supposed to be Gabby, remember? When we get there,
if
we get there, we can swap seats and I’ll suffer Eva. But I’m not forkin, it’s your problem. You want a date with Gabby, it’s gonna cost ya. Three hundred and twenty bucks. Minimum. So you may as well forget the whole deal and lose the bet.’

‘I’m not quittin.’

‘So you’ve got to find the cash.’

Cooja shrugs.

‘Few hours working for me uncle an I’ll have it. But I still think I shouldn’t have to pay for you.’

‘But I’m not the one who wants to go on a dumb date to see Madonna,’ I say softly. ‘And I’m not the one who has to get worldwide exposure on a date with Gabby Zanoni because my mouth’s bigger than my brain.’

He gives in.

‘You’re gonna have to queue for the tickets, too,’ I add.

‘Sam?’

‘No way.’

‘I can’t sit in a queue all weekend and earn the cash too,’ he argues.

‘Cathy and Belinda are going to queue. I overheard them planning it.’

‘Good one, Sam. Cathy’s really gonna buy four tickets for me when she knows I’m takin Gabby Zanoni.’

‘Well …’

‘You’ll have to pretend you’re buyin em.’

‘Get real, Cooja. Belinda knows I hate Madonna’s music and she’ll tell Cathy. Plus you won’t have the cash till Sunday night, tops, so how do you think you’re gonna pay?’

‘Yeah, yeah,’ he says impatiently, but then he gives an evil grin and I know he’s just about solved the problem. But right now, what with Leanne and the lupins, the Young Achiever’s Award, and having to sit next to Gabby Zanoni without doing something gross like sweating like a pig or burping or farting or throwing up or saying something totally stupid, I really don’t want to even vaguely contemplate his solution!

‘Hey. Youse lot.’

I wake up and squint into the late afternoon sun.

Then it’s blotted out by this tall, hunky-looking guy wearing a baggy black t-shirt and shredded jeans and his shorter mate, dressed the same but with blond streaks in his straight dark hair and with darker skin.

‘Hey. Alicia.’

He prods her with his foot and she rolls over with a groan.

‘Danny? What’re you doin here? Thought you’re supposed to be with the elders in Alice?’

‘Was, but I’m reformed. I’m back.’

‘Nothin doin in Alice,’ goes the shorter one, squatting
down and squirling in the sand with the palm of his hand. ‘No action.’

Alicia sighs and sits up.

‘The kind of action you’re into, Ty, you’re better off without, man.’

The hunky guy called Danny nudges Ty, shrugs and grins.

‘Yeah, yeah.’

He narrows his eyes and looks at me.

‘Is that red hair for real, Whitey?’

‘Is that tan for real, Chocolate?’

‘Whoa. Racist.’

He rolls his eyes skywards as I prop myself up onto my elbows and glare at this dude called Danny.

‘That’d be right,’ I go. ‘You can dish it out but ya can’t take it, can ya?’

He ignores me and addresses his question to Alicia.

‘Who’s this chickie-babe, then?’

‘Hey, creep.’

I leap to my feet and eyeball him. I’ve got to tilt my head back to meet his stare. I jam my finger into his chest.

‘I’m not a chickie-babe, got it, bud? Me name’s Leanne.’

‘Lee … anne, eh?’

He drawls it out slowly and I feel like smacking his handsome face. Because he’s a look and a half! He
reminds me of a pirate from an old movie. And he’s got this energy.

‘Friendly little thing aren’t you, Leanne?’

The eyes bore into mine. Without shifting his gaze he says to Alicia, ‘How come you’re in tow with her, Allie?’

‘Helpin her find her dad.’

‘Well, then. Maybe Ty and I can help, too.’

I’m getting out of my depth here. This Danny makes me feel kind of scared and excited all at the same time.

‘Don’t want your help,’ I go. ‘Come on, Alicia.’

I head off over the sand, cheeks burning, probably as red as my hair, I’m thinking. I turn. The three of them are just standing there, grinning. Too bad. I can do it by myself. Then I remember that Alicia’s parked my bag in some strange building with strange people. I stomp back to them.

‘I need to get my bag.’

‘Okay, okay. Don’t stress.’ Alicia grins.

Next thing we’re all walking along, Danny next to me, Ty next to Alicia. We find the building and Danny, Ty and Alicia go in while I wait outside. Danny reappears after what seems like hours toting my bag with Alicia and Ty trailing behind.

‘Took ya time,’ I go, grabbing the bag.

He hangs onto it.

‘Yeah. So? Goin somewhere in a hurry?’

He’s impossible. So rude. So … so …

‘Let’s go,’ he says.

Next thing we’re all sauntering down the street, the bag swinging and bumping between Danny and me.

‘Ya mind?’

I move away.

He switches the bag to the other hand.

‘Moanin Minnie!’

He’s laughing at me. I can hear Alicia chatting to Ty and wish she’d push in and talk to me so I wouldn’t have to be bugged by this Danny character.

‘Where are we goin?’

Danny stops so suddenly that Alicia and Ty crash into us.

‘Goin to see ya dad. That’s what I thought.’

This stuns me. I’m about to roll in and see a father I haven’t clapped eyes on for five years, probably with Miss Lollipop goggling away, and as if that’s not enough I’m going to have these three wackoes with me. It doesn’t bear thinking about. What am I going to do? I could ditch them, tell them ‘Thanks but no thanks, get lost,’ but how do I find Dad’s place again in the dark, plus I haven’t got any money for a taxi seeing as Alicia and I ate it all at lunchtime. While I’m digesting this we’re still walking and by the time I’ve decided to give this lot the flick anyway, we’re there.

‘I’ll go up on my own.’

‘Yeah? No way. We wanna see what happens.’

I sigh and face Danny.

‘Look, I haven’t seen my dad for five years. I don’t know how he’s gonna react. He might get mad …’

‘That’s why you need us with you,’ says Alicia, putting her hand on my arm. She looks worried. It’s the first time she’s spoken to me since we left the beach, since we got tangled up with these two hoons. I stare up to the second storey. There’s a light on, so someone’s got to be home. Suddenly I feel really scared.

‘All right, all right,’ I go, ‘but don’t crowd me, okay?’

We head up the stairs. I’m staring at the door.

‘Go on, knock,’ says Ty.

‘Leave her alone. Do some deep breaths, Leanne, you’ve gone dead white even for a whitey,’ says Danny.

‘I can’t do it,’ I mumble.

My arms hang by my sides. I just can’t make even one of them work, to lift my fist high enough to bang on the door.

Danny reaches over and knocks loudly. The sound makes me jump. I swallow and stare at the doorknob.

‘Someone’s coming.’

I can hear footsteps. My chest’s gone all tight and I can’t breathe. I’m gonna die right here on my dad’s doorstep and …

‘Yes?’

It’s Dad.

He’s fatter. He’s gone sort of bald near his forehead. He’s grown a beard.

‘Yes?’ he asks again as no one says anything. Then I step forward.

‘Dad!’

‘Leanne!’

Next thing he’s grabbed me by the arm and he’s pushing me inside, slamming the door on the others.

‘So. You’ve turned up. And who are those punks? And why are you putting your mother through all this?’

Hardly words of fatherly love. He sounds really peed off! He drags me across to the phone and holds me tightly on the arm as he punches in our home phone number with his free hand. I feel as wobbly as a bowl of half-set jelly. This isn’t going how I planned.

‘Dad …’

But he’s speaking into the phone.

‘Yes. Your daughter has finally arrived on my doorstep with a bunch of dirty looking Abos.’

He’s still talking but I’m too stunned to make out what he’s saying.
Your
daughter? I’m
his
daughter, too. Dirty looking Abos? How can he say these things?

‘Talk to your mother!’

He shoves the phone into my hand.

‘Leanne?’

‘Mum.’

I’m nearly crying when I hear her voice. The shock of Dad being so horrible, treating me like a lump of unwanted garbage.

‘Are you all right?’ asks Mum.

She’s nearly crying. My voice breaks and next thing I’m bawling like a baby into the phone and Mum’s bawling at the other end. I can hear a man’s voice saying ‘There. There,’ and I figure it’s Steve, but I’m not mad. I’m glad she’s got someone to comfort her, because I sure as hell haven’t. Dad’s let go my arm and he’s pacing up and down.

‘Come home,’ she says between sobs. ‘Just come home. I promise never to yell at you again.’

I clutch the receiver.

‘Never?’

‘Well …’

We both give watery laughs.

‘Sorry, Mum, but I just had to find Dad …’

‘Sure. Okay. Are you all right?’

‘I’m fine.’

‘What’s all this about being with …?’

‘They’re my friends, Mum. And they’re nice, not …’

I choke on the words; I can’t say them.

‘Part of me wants to yell at you, rip your hair out,
kill
you, Leanne, for doing this. The other part … I’m just glad you’re safe,’ says Mum. ‘Look, Leanne, I just want you here at home. I love you, no matter how much we fight and yell and argue, do you hear me? Now, put your father back on the line. I’ll have to speak to him about paying your airfare home.’

‘Okay.’

I hand the receiver to Dad. Then I notice this blonde woman sitting on the sofa looking … smug? Ah. Miss Lollipop in the flesh. I can’t help staring at this creature who lured my dad away from his family. All I can register is that she’s different from my mum. She’s slim, no double chins, perfectly made up without a wrinkle you can see anyway, not a hair out of place, dressed in this clinging top and jeans. She looks sort of brittle, like pale spun toffee. Fragile. As opposite to Mum as you could possibly get.

‘Okay, okay,’ says Dad into the phone, ‘I’ll pack her on the first plane back tomorrow. Yes, she can sleep here in the spare room, but she’ll have to be scrubbed down with disinfectant first. Who knows what …?’

I can’t believe I’m hearing this! I glance round at the pale blue velvet,’ sofa with neat palest pink satin pillows, the creamy carpet, the expensive stereo, the glossy tv, the chrome and glass kitchen suite I can just see through the
doorway, and I realise that my dad has changed so much that I don’t know him any more. I look at him bulging out of his expensive looking lightweight suit, gold watch winking from his wrist as he gestures with his free hand. He’s got this annoyed look on his face as he turns to look at me. Then he turns away. I feel as if I’m standing outside a store window looking in at this family … a plastic man and plastic woman and all this plastic furniture. I check the woman out again. She looks down at the carpet. She knows who I am but she hasn’t said a word.

‘I’m his daughter,’ I feel like shrieking, ‘his only daughter!’

‘Mummy?’

I freeze.

This little kid’s come into the room, a small girl with golden curls dressed in a white nightie, maybe four or five …

Then it hits me, I’m
not
his only daughter!

And that’s when I dash for the door, wrench it open, and stumble out onto the landing, nearly knocking Danny flying down the stairs.

‘Hey. Take it easy.’

He grabs my arm. Tears are flooding down my face like the Niagara Falls. I just want to get away, fast.

‘Leanne!’ Dad bellows from the doorway, then, ‘Hey! Let her go, you dirty Abo punk.’

I charge down the stairs. I feel like an empty container; Dad’s just scraped the last bit out so savagely that it’s like a raw wound, so sore that I actually double up on the footpath in agony.

‘We’re outa here,’ says Ty, grabbing my other arm. ‘He’ll call the jacks for sure.’

We rip down the road. Alicia’s got my bag. The guys are practically lifting me off the ground and even though my feet make running movements like they’re in some cartoon they don’t touch dirt till we finally reach a park by the beach and I collapse in a sobbing heap. I can vaguely hear them all talking. Then they leave. I look up and I’m alone, with just my bag for company. Well, I can’t blame them for dumping out after Dad called them dirty Abos. I feel so ashamed. How could he do that? He must be sick! I just sit there rocking myself backwards and forwards for ages. What am I going to do?

But I can’t sit on this beach feeling sorry for myself for the rest of my life! I rub at my face with the edge of my t-shirt. My stomach rumbles. It’s been seven hours or more since I ate. I haven’t got any money and if I give myself in to the cops they’ll take me to Dad. I never want to see him again as long as I live! I just want to go home! I scramble
to my feet and heave my bag over my shoulder.

‘Where ya goin, Lee … anne?’

Danny’s standing there, legs apart, voice mocking, but not his eyes. He’s holding a steaming pack of KFC, large, and two cans of Coke.

‘Hungry?’

I nod.

‘Sit.’

I fold onto the sand. He takes my bag off my shoulders, hands me a serviette, opens the pack and passes it to me. The hot smell of chicken with eleven secret herbs and spices makes my stomach growl. I tear into the food like a dog. Usually when I’m upset like this I can’t eat for days, but I’m angry.

‘Coke!’

It’s a statement, not a question. I take it, drain the can dry. Then Danny folds me against him and rocks me like I’m a little baby. My own dad didn’t even want to touch me apart from dragging me straight to the phone, I’m thinking, but this ‘dirty Abo’ who smells like soap and some other sort of nice smell that I can’t identify, holds me close.

A car horn’s blaring.

‘Come on.’

He hauls me to my feet and leads me over to where
Alicia and Ty are sitting in an old hotted-up Holden. Ty’s driving. His head hardly reaches over the top of the steering wheel. He can’t have his licence … As I’m thinking about this Danny nudges me.

‘In you get.’

‘Where are we going?’

‘Home. We’re takin you home,’ says Alicia.

‘But … you’re going north to find your tribal roots.’

‘Yeah, well, I’m takin a short detour south.’

‘But … where’d you get the car?’

A horrible thought enters my head.

‘It’s not stolen, is it?’

‘It’s not stolen, is it?’ mimics Ty. ‘The nice white girl don’t wanna ride in a stolen car with the bad black boys, eh?’

‘Stop teasing her. It’s not stolen. It belongs to one of our brothers so therefore it belongs to us; he doesn’t mind us borrowing it for a while,’ says Alicia.

I crawl into the back seat. Danny slides in, the door slams and we’re off with a scream of tyres. It goes through my mind that maybe Ty isn’t a practised driver, that I might end up like mincemeat on the highway, but somehow it doesn’t seem to matter any more. My dream’s turned into a nightmare and I just want to sink into the velvety black of sleep.

I wake up later when the car pulls into a service station. I blink and try to remember where I am and why. For one split second I think I’m back with the surfers in Maroochydore, but then Alicia piles out of the front seat and opens my door.

‘Amos is meeting us here,’ she says, ‘and he’ll drive us down to the next stop.’

‘Huh?’

‘Ty’ll get busted by the cops for sure if he keeps driving. He’s only sixteen.’

I should but I don’t even care.

‘I’m goin to the Ladies, ya comin?’

I get out and stretch my legs. Even though I’ve been asleep I feel exhausted. The shock of Dad acting like he did’s starting to hit me and I feel queasy. How could I be related to such a nasty, bigoted man? How could he have changed so much?

‘You all right? You look kinda white,’ says Alicia as I stand staring blindly at the mirror without even seeing my reflection.