The Bit In Between (24 page)

They took a taxi back to the little blue house. As she opened the front door, Alison was surprised at how much it felt like returning home. Oliver dumped the backpack on the couch and pulled out his notebook. He was eager to start typing up his notes.

Alison made a cup of tea and started to unpack. A few minutes later she walked out of the bedroom with Oliver's mobile.

‘Here.' She handed it to him.

He glanced down at it.

‘Wow,' he said. ‘Thirty-five missed calls.' He scrolled through the call history. ‘All from Rick. And fifty-nine unread messages, mostly from Rick.' Oliver sighed heavily. ‘It's this Boris drama. It's really affecting him. I better just go see him.'

Alison didn't say anything. She kissed him on the cheek and watched him as he walked out the door. It clicked as he pulled it shut and she looked around the room vaguely. She waited a few minutes then picked up her handbag and headed to the door. Don't lie, don't make promises you can't keep and always wear a nice button-up shirt. She had work to do.

CHAPTER FIVE

READY THE JETSAM

O
ut of nowhere came one of those rare cool days when the sun didn't bother to furnace the world and people could comfortably walk the streets of Honiara without circular sweat patches spreading across their shirts. Alison sat in the office jotting notes, preparing herself for the meeting they'd scheduled the next day to discuss their proposal with the NGO. The door swung open and Sera waddled in, her stomach announcing her presence. Alison watched her and suppressed a grin. At almost seven months, Sera looked like a bobbing tent.

Sera sat down heavily and let out a sigh.

‘Do I still have feet? I can't tell.'

Alison checked under the table. ‘Yes. Two of them. How are we doing?'

‘Restless. I think they stay up at night fighting each other.'

‘And how is . . .' Alison paused and realised what was bothering her. ‘Is that your curtains you're wearing?'

Sera made a face and gave a guilty smile. ‘I hoped you wouldn't notice. Nothing fits anymore and I haven't done washing for a few days. Does it look like a dress to you?'

Alison studied her. ‘A dress made from the curtains of your sitting room, but it works.'

‘I don't care,' Sera shrugged. ‘I'm pregnant. Wori blo oloketa.'

Alison laughed. ‘Yeah, let 'em stare.'

Sera made a defiant face and looked around the room as if challenging anyone to say something. As the only person in the room, Alison felt obliged to raise her hands in theatrical apology. Sera pulled her woven bag towards her and fished around in it. She pulled out an entire cake wrapped tightly in plastic wrap.

‘Because I'm pregnant,' she told Alison, who nodded conspiratorially.

‘What will you say once they're born?'

Sera shrugged as she searched for the edge of the plastic wrap. ‘Because I'm breastfeeding? We'll see.'

Alison eyed her giant belly. ‘I can't believe there are two little people in there.'

‘I know. And soon they are going to be out here,' Sera said.

Alison's eyes widened in panic. ‘What are we going to do? Two babies! What if we break one?'

‘It's okay, because there is another,' Sera said matter-of-factly.

Alison laughed. ‘I am honestly terrified I will break
one of your babies. I would make a terrible mother.
I'll probably leave my baby on the train or forget where I put it or something.'

Sera nodded. ‘Yes. But you can practise with mine. Don't forget I have two.'

Alison smiled, but then grew serious. ‘Are you scared you'll lose your identity?'

Sera frowned. ‘I don't understand the question.'

‘What I mean is –'

‘No, I know what you mean, but to me it doesn't make sense. For me, for us, babies are a part of our identity. It's not a choice but a gift. The gift to create a new life. To be part of the cycle of nature. It is a blessing. I know in your country people think differently, that babies change who you are and make life difficult, but maybe that's because in your country you raise your baby alone. Here the community raises the baby. I'm not doing it on my own. It is not just my love that will raise my babies. It's not just my responsibility. I will raise these babies, but so will my family and my friends. So will you. Maybe that is the difference.'

She succeeded in unwrapping the cake and handed Alison a piece.

Alison chewed each mouthful carefully, deep in thought.

‘So I've been working on the proposal outline and I think we really need to emphasise all the different ways our centre will empower women. Ultimately the office will be run by Solomon women for Solomon women, so we need to get incorporated, register as a business so you guys can get paid, set up a board so we've got oversight by other women, and at some point do consultations so that we actually ask women what they want first . . .'

‘Don't forget we need to register for donations,' Sera added and Alison made a note.

‘Then there's training, and sourcing more equipment, and I think we need a constitution and a strategic plan, and I read something about needing policies and procedures for everything . . .' Alison started leafing through her notes and Sera put out a hand to stop her.

‘First things first,' she said, drawing Alison's notebook towards her. ‘What is the problem and what is the solution?' She raised a pen in anticipation.

Alison made a face. ‘I'm so nervous about this. What if we don't get it?'

Sera scrunched up her nose. ‘You're asking the wrong question.' She looked at the pile of documents beside Alison. ‘What if we
do
get it!'

When Alison arrived home she found Oliver lying on his back on the floor with his head under the couch. His chest was rising rhythmically up and down as if he were meditating or sleeping. His left foot twitched involuntarily. Alison sat gingerly at the other end of the couch and Oliver jerked awake.

‘Do I need to ask what you're doing?' Alison said gently.

Oliver wiggled along the floor slightly and peered out at her.

‘I think I'm having a quarter-life crisis.'

Alison nodded. ‘What's the mid-twenties equivalent of piercing your ear and buying a convertible?'

‘I don't know, but I have this incredible urge to close my Facebook account and take up a minimal rule religion. Something with a guru, maybe.'

Oliver shuffled himself out from under the couch and hoisted himself up beside her. She smiled and stretched out, laying her legs across his lap. The joints in her ankle cracked in a way they'd never use to. She'd found a grey hair the other day. Alone and unguarded. She'd pulled it out and flushed it down the toilet. This was new. She had always expected the changes of age but she hadn't realised they would start at twenty-five. Every so often, when they were out at a party or at the bar, she would secretly wish she was back home in bed, watching a DVD with a cup of tea. She'd never told Oliver this, which was a pity, as he felt like this most of the time too.

‘Good day writing?'

‘I'm stuck again. Good day at the office?'

‘I'm terrified we'll get it and I'm terrified we won't. I feel like I'm standing at this door and it could lead to all these different worlds, and I want so much for it to be the right one.'

‘Which one is the right one?'

‘I don't know. And while it kills me not knowing, it's also . . .'

She waved her hands in a vague abstract pattern that came nowhere near capturing the indescribable, incredible things she was attempting to convey.

The next morning Alison and Sera borrowed Aunty Patti's car to drive across Honiara for their meeting on the outskirts of town. Because Sera was too big to fit behind the wheel, Alison was entrusted with the keys and she clunked her way through the gears of this unfamiliar car. It was her first time driving in the Solomons and she tried not to panic at the seeming lack of order or regulation on the roads. Sera seemed oblivious, chattering away happily as Alison flinched and swerved and cursed her way through the crowded streets.

‘Do you think they'll be lawyers? Or prime ministers? The babies, I mean.'

Alison's eyes remained glued to the road. ‘I don't see why not – 
omigod
 . . .'

‘Or teachers? Teachers are so important. Or ambassadors.'

‘Sure – 
is he turning? fuck fuck fuck
 . . .'

‘But I don't care. As long as they are good people. Do you think they'll be good people?'

‘Of course they will – 
shit! we're going to die
!'

They made their way out past the Burns Creek settlement and finally traffic eased off. They turned up a side road and soon they were alone with the gravel. Alison loosened her grip on the steering wheel and turned to give Sera an embarrassed grin.

‘That wasn't so bad.'

There was a soft clunk beneath them and the car shuddered. Alison knew straightaway that they had a flat tyre. They pulled over and she surveyed the damage.

‘It's definitely flat,' she said, giving it an experimental kick because that's what she had seen people do in movies. She stepped back and turned to Sera who was sitting in the passenger seat, her hands calmly clasped across her belly. Alison glanced up and down the road. There was no one about. She went and sat back in the driver's seat. They waited. Eventually Alison let out a dramatic sigh.

‘No one's coming. We can either change it ourselves or stay here and die.'

‘Why don't we call a taxi?'

That made sense. Alison checked her mobile.

‘No reception. You?'

‘No reception.'

Alison glanced out the window. ‘Do you know how to change a tyre?'

Sera shook her head.

‘Me either. But how hard can it be?'

Alison got out of the car and crouched down to examine the wheel. She had no idea where to begin. She scratched her chin, then poked a round metal thingy that seemed to be connected to the big metal disc thing. After thinking for a while, she stood up.

‘I have no idea,' she said, climbing back into the car. ‘Maybe we should just wait a bit longer?'

Sera nodded. They sat and watched the road, both convinced the grant was drifting steadily out of their reach. After a while Alison could bear the silence no longer.

‘This waiting is unbearable. Please distract me. Tell me a story.'

‘A real story?'

‘It doesn't have to be.'

Sera thought for a moment. Her hands played unconsciously with her belly, patting and stroking it as if it were a cat.

‘Okay. When I was a small girl, I went with my family for a picnic on a small island near the big island where our family came from. My cousins and brothers were playing a game where they hid from each other all over the island. They didn't want me to play, but I went and hid anyway so they would have to come find me. I was hiding a long time, and no one came for me. After a while I stopped hiding but couldn't find anyone. My family had gone back to the big island. There were so many people they forgot me and left. It was getting dark and I was scared, because our kastom says at night ghosts of the unhappy dead come out. I was so scared I hid in the space of a big tree. What is that in English?'

‘The trunk.'

‘The trunk. I start to fall asleep, but then I hear a sound behind me. Nothing. I start to fall asleep again and then I feel something pull on my feet. I know it is a ghost because this is how they wake you when you are sleeping. It is dark, but from the moonlight I can see it is a little girl about my age. She is wearing old clothes like the mission school children wore when my mother was a girl. Her eyes are so sad. She speaks our home language. She tells me that she is lost and she can't find her class. She says she was hiding and fell asleep and now the boat is gone. She asks if I have any food or water, because she is thirsty and there are no fruit trees on this island, only some berries which made her feel sick. I tell her I don't have anything to eat or drink. Then she starts crying and says she wishes she hadn't fallen asleep because she wants to go home. I don't know what to do because she is so sad. She is still holding my feet and her hands are so cold. Then I hear another sound. I turn and see a light. It is my father and uncle coming back to find me. When I turn back the girl is gone.'

Sera paused. ‘That's it. That's my story.'

Alison was quiet. ‘Is it true? That story? Did it happen?'

Sera shrugged and rubbed her eyes. ‘I don't remember. I know we went for a picnic and I was left behind, but the other part I don't remember. I think so.'

Alison watched her for a moment and then looked away. ‘We need to try to fix this ourselves.'

She got out of the car. ‘Okay. I'm going to try to remember what my dad taught me. You make sure I don't . . . I don't know . . . get crushed. Actually, maybe you should get out of the car.'

Sera pulled herself out. ‘Do you want this?'

‘What is it?'

‘A car manual. It was in the glove box.'

Alison glared at it. She hadn't thought to check for a manual. ‘Yes. That would be useful. What does it say to do?'

Sera consulted the instructions. ‘Remove the hub cap.'

Alison glanced down. ‘There isn't one. Next?'

‘Loosen nuts with wrench.'

Alison remembered the special compartment in the back of her dad's car. She checked the jeep's boot and found the tools.

‘Okay. Found the wrench. Loosening the nuts.'

It took a while, but was much easier when she worked out which direction to turn the wrench.

‘Next?'

They worked their way through the steps, Sera providing useful tips and encouragement. They had the car jacked up and the flat tyre off when another car finally pulled up beside them. A couple of young men got out and said something to Sera in rapid Pijin.

‘They want to know if we need help,' she said.

Alison looked at the tools in front of her. She felt a burst of satisfaction course through her veins.

‘Tell them not to worry, we're almost done.'

She smiled to herself and started wheeling the spare tyre over. The two young men waved goodbye and drove off. Sera looked back down at the manual, and ten minutes later the car was ready to go. Alison stepped back and admired their work.

‘You know, the Spice Girls told me I could do anything. I assume that means changing a tyre.'

‘Do you think the posh one could change a tyre?' Sera asked.

Alison considered this. ‘No, but she's made enough money that she could pay someone to do it for her. Or just buy a whole new car.'

She checked out her workmanship again. For the first time in a long time she felt herself capable of anything.

‘Now let's hit the road. We've got a grant to win.'