Brothers & Sisters - Charlotte Wood [99]
‘I’m sorry.’ For the first time her voice had lost its brazen inflection. It sounded young and frightened. He did turn to her. She was looking out of the window at the lush landscape falling away from them. She continued to speak in that shy childlike tone. ‘I loved Leo. He was amazing, wonderful. But he could be so mean.’
In town, she followed him confidently into the pub, as if they had known each other for years. The Demons Creek Hotel was a three-storey Victorian building with an ugly, box-like extension attached to the side of it which functioned as a bottleshop. It was blessedly cool inside the double-bricked walls of the building. All heads turned to look at them as they walked into the bar, then just as quickly everyone went back to contemplating their drinks. It was far from crowded. A few tradesmen who’d just knocked off work, two ferals with dreads, some elderly National Party types propped up on stools at the bar. The pub obviously catered with egalitarian ease to the long-established farmers, to the hippies and children of hippies who had laid claim to the hills over the last three decades, and also to the constant stream of local and international tourists who came through on their way south to Byron Bay. It was evident that they assumed Anna and Saverio were part of the latter group. No eyebrow was raised at Anna’s aggressively urban attire. Saverio was conscious that if their entry had aroused any suspicions it had to do with what a middle-aged man like himself was doing in the company of such a young woman. She’s my brother’s goddaughter, he wanted to call out. She’s got nothing to do with me. Instead he asked her if she wanted a beer and she said yes.
The three elderly blokes at the bar fell silent as he approached. He nodded to them and received a gruff ‘g’day’ in response. They all shared wrinkled ruddy skin and thin wisps of silver-yellow hair, and all wore open-necked white shirts that accentuated the burnt redness of their necks. Saverio looked around the bar as he waited for the beers to be poured. He wondered if his brother had spent much time in this pub; he couldn’t really imagine Leo discussing Marxism with the farmers or anonymous gay sex with the hippies. He took a glass in each hand, nodded again to the old men, and found Anna at the rear of the pub. As part of the more recent extensions a small square dance area had been constructed against the back wall. On three sides mirrors ran from floor to ceiling reflecting the bar beyond. Anna was gazing at her reflection. A mirror ball hung from the ceiling Some of the shingles of glass were missing.
‘I guess this is where you come if you want to go clubbing.’
She laughed again, a deep resonant sound that came all the way up from her belly. ‘I can see Leo here, he loved a bit of a dance.’ She put on a mock accent, Leo at his most queenie, cruelly caricaturing other gay men. ‘They’re playing “I Will Survive”, Brooce! They’re playing “I Will Survive”.’ At the same time Anna was wiggling in such a close approximation of Leo’s stilted dancing style that Saverio couldn’t help laughing. Anna took the beer and indicated a door with a handwritten scrawl taped to it: To the beer garden.
‘Am I allowed to smoke out there?’
I’m not your father, he almost snapped at her. Instead he opened the door for her and followed her out to the courtyard.
It was a stunning view. The gently sloping hill was immaculately mowed, with tall grey-limbed gum trees throwing shade on the tables and chairs set around the lawn. There were no fences and the ground disappeared abruptly to give way to the jutting tops of thick forest trees. Beyond the greenery and as far as the eye could see was the curve of the mighty Pacific Ocean. The garden was empty except for a blonde woman sitting on a bench at the end of the lawn, looking out over the view. She did not turn at the sound of their voices.
‘So why did you and Leo stop talking to each