Music From Standing Waves (32 page)

“And. I’m thinking about it.”

“What is there to think about? This is
Justin
, Abby. You two are made for each other. You’re like
freakin Romeo and Juliet.”

“That didn’t end so well.”

“Whatever. My point is; you and Justin have
wanted each other for as long as I’ve known you. Why are you so
determined to make things difficult?”

“There’s a lot you don’t know,” I tell
her.

She raises her eyebrows. Maybe I am
determined to make things difficult.

Rachel shoves me away as Justin appears
beside us. He smiles broadly and kisses me achingly close to the
edge of my lips.

“How was the wedding?”

“Okay,” I say shortly. “I guess it was
nice.”

“So we were just saying,” Rachel interrupts.
“That we’re going to play pool when Abby’s hot violin teacher’s
finished. And I think that they’re finished now so we should go.”
She grabs her drink and makes a wobbly beeline for the table.
Justin touches my elbow as I stand up.

“Are you okay?” he asks. “With Nick leaving
and stuff?”

“Yeah. I’m fine. He can’t stay here.”

Justin nods. “So… did you have a chance to
think about what I asked you?”

I hesitate.

“I don’t mean to rush you,” he says. “But I
just want you to see that things would be different now
. I’m
different.”

“Hurry up!” Rachel bellows across the bar. “I
can’t mind the table all on my own you know.”

Justin catches my hand and the unexpectedness
of it makes my heart flutter. “Abby, that bastard thing I did to
you, I swear I’ll never do anything like that again. I already lost
you once. I just hope I haven’t screwed things up with you for
good.”

“Man, I’m pissed,” Rachel announces as she
catapults the white ball off the pool table. It rolls under the
cigarette machine. “I don’t even normally drink beer. Well I didn’t
then I did and I had a bad experience like a really bad experience
cos we mixed it with vodka in those test tube shots who ever knew
you could get so pissed from drinking out of a freakin test tube?
And who drinks out of test tubes anyway? Like mad scientists or
something? But anyway I stopped drinking it for ages but now I’ve
kind of started again and hey it’s my turn!”

Justin climbs off his knees with the ball in
his hand. “No it’s not. You hit the ball off the table remember?”
He pots the eight ball and slides his cue back onto the rack. I
wobble on my stool as he slips his arm around my shoulder.

“I have to work early,” he tells me. “Gonna
call it a night. Want me to take you home?”

“Yeah. Okay.” I look up and find myself
staring into his eyes. They are sincere, caring, and flecked with
green like the sea. I think of the eternal summer of my childhood;
of weekends spent entirely in my bathers, of wrestling Justin in
the rock pool and of the make-believe games that took us anywhere
we wanted. I wrap my arms around his neck. I can smell salt in his
hair and for a second I’m flying at the bow of his dad’s boat.

Rachel skips off down the street, leaving the
two of us to walk alone outside the pub. I take Justin’s hand and
squeeze tightly. My hand moves up his wrist until I am pulling his
bare arm close to my body. He leans in to kiss me. I turn away
suddenly. I don’t remember the thought going through my head. It
just happens, like I’m programmed that way. Suddenly I’m back where
I was four years ago- struggling, screaming, scratching for a way
out. I love Justin, my oldest friend; I love him so dearly but it’s
not a love strong enough to keep me tied to Acacia Beach. I can’t
stay here and clean fish guts off Justin’s boots. But I can’t go
back to Melbourne either. I’m floating aimlessly like a leaf on a
pond; no roots, no foundations, nowhere to plant myself. Everything
I once clung to has turned on me.

“Okay,” sighs Justin. “Why didn’t you just
say?”

I feel terrible. Now I’m the one playing the
stupid games. “I’m so sorry,” I gush. “I wanted to. I really did.”
If only I could do simple. I try to hug him but he lifts my arms
off his waist.

“Abby,” he says. “Just don’t. Please. I’ve
had enough.”

He leaves and I watch the footpath for long
after he’s disappeared. I have always known our friendship had an
expiry date. I think we’ve finally reached it.

I stand motionless. I can’t go back to the
caravan park. Can’t walk back past Justin’s, past Psycho George’s
units, back to my old bedroom with the floral doona cover. I drift
back inside the pub and clamber gracefully onto the stool beside
Andrew.

“You know,” I announce. “Last time I was
here, it wasn’t legal.”

Andrew laughs. “You’re smashed.”

“What are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be at
home with your wonderful wife?”

“Hayley’s at her mum’s tonight,” says Andrew.
“So I guess I’m off the hook. What about you? Your friends pike
already?”

“Yep.” I steal his beer glass and empty it
with a huge sigh. “They piked already. And I just ruined things
with my oldest friend. And my junkie brother’s gone off somewhere
with his junkie wife-”

“And you missed your violin final.”

“And I missed my violin final.” I reach
across the table and grab the beer jug.

“Do you want a glass?”

“That’s okay. I’ll just use yours.” I top up
the pot with the foamy yellow dregs. “Are we okay?” I ask. “You and
me?”

“Yeah,” he says. “Of course. So were you
going to win?”

“No. Apparently I suck.” I drink my beer in
one long mouthful. Damp air closes in around me. The tangled
laughter grows louder and louder. My head begins to spin. I leap
suddenly off the stool, the last of my drink flying out of the
glass and slopping over Andrew’s knee.

“Nice one,” he says, holding my arm to steady
me. “Sit down.”

I yank my arm away. “Let go of me.” I race
towards the door. I tear past the yellow streetlights, the hem of
my dress flapping around my knees. The bitumen scratches my toes
and I realise I’ve lost my sandals somewhere along the road. The
ground changes to the sandy strip of grass that separates the road
from the beach. I slow to a dazzled wander towards the rock pool.
Faint music from the pub floats across the beach. I kneel on the
edge of the pool, my breath shooting through my lungs. I stare into
the black water and can just make out a hazy reflection. My heart
echoes in my ears. I tear off my dress and dive into the pool.

The sounds of the street disappear into the
underwater silence, replaced by a humming that pushes against my
ears. I resurface. My hair drifts listlessly on the water. I draw
in my breath and dive beneath the surface again, opening my eyes
and watching shadowy black fish wriggle though the ripples.

My lungs begin to burn and the water pressure
pounds my ears. Resisting the urge to surface, I push myself along
the bottom and glide through the blackness. Suddenly, a hand
snatches my arm and I spring to the surface, gasping.

Andrew lets out his breath. “Jesus, Abby. Get
out of there! What the hell are you doing?”

I stumble out of the water and throw on my
dress hurriedly. It clings to my wet skin.

“Sorry,” says Andrew. “I shouldn’t have
brought up that competition. I didn’t mean to upset you.”

I turn away from him ashamedly. Water runs
down my back, soaking my dress. “Go back inside. Go back to your
friends.”

“I think they’ll survive without me,” he
says. “Besides, someone spilled beer all over my jeans. Come on.”
He reaches an arm around my shoulder. “I’m going home. I’ll lend
you a towel.”

“Are you alright now?” Andrew asks.

I pull myself onto a stool at the bench. “I
guess.” I sigh and squeeze the moisture out of my hair. I can
remember sitting in the same place at the kitchen counter with
Hayley, listening to her talk about all sorts of girly things Sarah
had never told me.

Andrew hands me a glass of water. “You’re not
really going to stay in Acacia Beach are you? What are you going to
do here?”

“I don’t know,” I sigh. “All I want is to get
away from the Con. I don’t have any plans outside of that.” I
wriggle in my seat. “I’ve got fucking sand everywhere. I hate this
place!”

Andrew laughs. “No kidding.”

“It’s not funny! What am I supposed to do? I
can’t stay here and I can’t go back-”

“Of course you can go back. Maybe you should
keep playing in your ensembles and stuff, just take a year off your
course. Give yourself some space from all that
competitiveness.”

“What’s the point?” I gulp down my water.

“Oh Abs.” Andrew leans across the bench and
squeezes my wrist. “Come with me.”

I follow him down to the basement. I let out
my breath, overwhelmed by its familiarity. The faint musty smell,
the blue wallpaper, the piano… I kneel on the rug. Once, being down
here was the only thing that made me happy.

Andrew slides a CD of our Elgar sonata into
the stereo.

“No,” I say. “I don’t want to listen to
music.” But he has already clicked play. The slow movement creeps
into the room. Instantly, the melody breaks me. It washes over my
defences like floodwater. I feel the music in my throat, in my
hands, my chest. Andrew flicks off the light and I stare into the
darkness. It has been a long time since I have heard the piece, but
my fingers move instinctively as I imagine playing the notes.
Andrew sits beside me and I feel his breath against my ear. I turn
my head; my eyes catching his in the shadowy room.

“Don’t you remember?” he asks gently.

A tear slides across my cheek. I do remember;
remember all the optimism the music had given me, and my firm
belief that everything would be perfect when I made it to the
Con.

“Hey,” says Andrew. “I don’t want you to get
upset. I just want you to remember how much you used to love this.
How much fun we used to have.”

I smile. “Coming here for lessons used to be
the highlight of my week. I used to count down the days.”

“You are such a loser,” he laughs, nudging my
thigh with his knee. “Seriously,” he says. “I really missed you,
Abs. I missed being able to share all this with you.”

“I missed you too,” I cough. “So much.”

I throw my arms around his neck. Tears slide
off my cheek and onto Andrew’s chin. He pulls me close to his body
and I can feel him breathe. I let myself kiss his lips.

“Abby…” he says. I kiss him again. He doesn’t
pull away. Heat rises through my body, dizzying as it hits my
brain. Suddenly words are falling unbridled out of my mouth.

“Don’t you get it? Everything I loved about
music I loved because of you.
You
made me want to play.
You
made me want to perform.”

I press my head into his shoulder. He exhales
slowly and keeps holding me. The notes of the violin sonata hang in
the space around us. Sultry and chromatic, they weave through the
dark like shadows. Suddenly, Andrew jumps off the floor and
switches on the light.

“Jesus,” he says. “What are we doing?”

“You wanted it too,” I say, with a sudden
coldness.

He clicks off the stereo. “I wasn’t
thinking.”

“Bullshit! You’re the one that brought me
here!” I stand up and glare at him.

He sighs. “Come on Abs, we can’t do this to
Hayley. I know you don’t want to hurt her any more than I do.”

I clench my teeth. I can’t reply.

He squeezes my wrist gently. “I’m sorry. I
shouldn’t have-”

“You can’t stay with Hayley.”

Andrew glares at me. His eyes darken with an
anger I’ve never seen before. “What the hell are you talking about?
She’s my wife, Abby. Did you really think you could come between
us?”

“You don’t understand,” I choke.

“Understand what?”

‘
You don’t have to deal with it,’
Matt
had told me.
‘It’s got nothing to do with you.’

“She-” I stop myself abruptly. “Nothing.
Nothing. I’m so sorry. I’m not thinking straight.” I turn my back.
I can imagine the resentment in Andrew’s eyes. “I should go.” I
trudge up the stairs, clinging to the rail. My stomach is churning.
I want to throw up.

“Abs, wait.”

I pause on the landing.

“I’m sorry too,” he tells me. “I shouldn’t
have let this happen, okay? It was my fault. And you’re right. It
wasn’t just you that wanted it.”

I look up. As he catches my glance, I
hurriedly bury my eyes back in my shoulder. “I’m such an
idiot.”

Andrew shakes his head. “No Abs, you’re not
an idiot. This passion that you have… I’m so glad it’s still there
somewhere.” He sits on the step and tugs me down beside him.
“Listen, Abby… About what you said before. About me being the
reason you wanted to play…” He speaks carefully. “Love for music
isn’t something you can just attribute to a human relationship. It
goes so much deeper than that.”

I sniff. “Maybe. But I know that I didn’t
have the same love for playing at the Con as I did here with you.
And I know how much I missed you.”

“You should have called me.”

I shake my head. “I knew if I spoke to you
I’d want to come home.”

“You can’t lean on me your whole life,” he
says gently. “You’re so much better than that.”

“I fell apart this year.”

“Because of all this pressure you created for
yourself.”

“That’s not why.” I drop my head, damp hair
falling over my face in clumps. I can see scratches on my hands
from the rocks. “It’s because of you.”

“So all those hours of practice and scales
and theory,” Andrew says finally. “You did just for me?” He shakes
his head. “I don’t believe that, Abby. Not for a second. I remember
how desperate you were to get out of my basement and go study at
the Con.”

“I hated the Con,” I sniff. “I couldn’t do it
without you.”

“You hated it all?”