Girl Next Door - Alyssa Brugman [49]
'What are they doing?' I ask.
'I think it's called mahjong,' Mum answers. 'It's kind of like cards.'
'Let me guess,' I say. 'It's a gambling game.' Now I understand why he took so long to get our food that night.
When we finish eating I turn Declan's phone back on. There are twenty-five text messages. They start out lovey and then get more urgent. Thankfully he has reintroduced vowels into his repertoire. The most recent one reads: ur obviously dead. I'm calling the police.
I text back: Not dead. Eating.
Declan answers almost immediately. OMIGOD I have been so worried! u haven't said anything 2 me since u left. Is everything okay? I mean about this afternoon.
I really, really don't want to talk about this afternoon. I'm racking my brain trying to think about something else – anything else – to talk about, and this is the crux of the problem, because the beauty of my relationship with Declan was that I didn't have to think when we talked. Hey wot did u get in that pol pot assignment anyway? I text back.
After a minute or so I receive a new message from Declan. Something that random was def a code 4 something. Have u been kidnapped? If u want me 2 call the police DON'T answer this msg.
I put the phone on the table and cross my arms. Bryce Cole yells out, 'Mahjong!', which I presume means that he won. One of his opponents pushes his wall of tiles over and mutters what I imagine to be a curse in Cantonese.
No code, I text. I'm switching off now. Nighty!
Instead I watch the telly with the turned-off phone in my pocket. I feel so mean, because it's not all Declan's fault, but I don't want to talk about it or even think about it, and the more I don't want to, the more he does, and I just wish he'd back off.
I turn the phone on again and browse through the numbers in his phone book.
A new message comes in. OK. I just want U 2 no that U R the most beautiful girl in the whole world & I hope U hav sweet dreams. Even if they R not about me.
I write back. Hey wot was that number that U recognised from our phone bill?
After a minute he sends it through. I browse through the numbers in his mobile – it's there. I quickly punch in his number. When he picks up I say, 'That's your dad's work number.'
'Why would your dad be ringing my dad?' he mutters.
'Maybe they were having an affair,' I joke.
'Hang on.' Declan is rifling through pages. While I wait I look across the table. Mum is staring at me, her face drawn, gaunt. She looks trapped.
'This bill isn't for your home phone,' he tells me. 'It's your mum's mobile.'
20
DIRTY
LAUNDRY
Will's learning how to play mahjong. I hope he's not getting himself in debt to the Triad. Mum's gone outside to have a cigarette. I'm so glad that she did that, because she knows I know about her and Declan's dad, and if she stayed we would have to talk, or not talk, and even the not talking is communicating – like when . . .
Before I get into that it's important to understand that I was very young, and I thought I was in the house alone. Unsupervised childhood is a time of experimentation. There's nothing weird about that.
I'd been watching that show Scrubs, and the Carla character told the Elliot character that if she wanted to have an orgasm she should use the washing machine. She didn't elaborate. Anyway, an ad came on and I just happened to notice that at that exact moment our washing machine was starting the spin cycle. I was curious, and so I went into the laundry and hopped up onto the washing machine lid.
I didn't get a thrill. I tried various postures. Still nothing. And because I thought I was in the house by myself I got quite inventive. Then my mum comes around the corner with the hamper from the upstairs bathroom and I'm engaged in a lewd act with her whitegoods.
What do you say?
It would have been best for me if Mum had laughed. Believe me, I have re-run various alternative scenarios in my head. If she had laughed, then I could have laughed, and it could be a kind of silent in-joke – an awkward moment