Sharp Turn - Marianne Delacourt [20]
A light came on along the back of the house, flooding the swimming pool but leaving us still in the dark.
‘Tara? Is that you?’ called my dad.
Crap.
‘Inside. Quick!’ I hissed at the others.
Half-naked Ed moved quicker than anyone else, scooping up his shirt and pulling up his pants as he went.
Wal was next, grabbing his piece off me as he scuttled past.
I bent down and seized the snaking hose and jerked my head at Cass. She dipped around behind me and did a fierce scramble through the sliding door just as the garden light went on. This one bathed me with its fluorescence.
My father stood there in a dressing gown and slippers, clutching a metal garden rake.
‘It’s okay, Dad. I was watering the garden and I slipped over in the dark.’
His shoulders hunched in irritation. ‘What in God’s name are you watering the garden for at 1 am? You scared your mother to death.’
‘I . . . errr . . . was doing it as . . . err . . . um . . . a surprise for you.’
I tried to beam with reassurance, but my dad had seen that before.
‘Have you been drinking?’
‘No, Dad,’ I said meekly.
‘Then turn the hose off and go to bed, Tara. We’ll speak in the morning.’
‘Sorry.’ I suddenly felt seventeen again: well-chastised and guilty.
The lights went off abruptly, leaving me to find the tap in the dark. Hose duly turned off, I entered my flat wet, dirty and agitated.
Ed, Wal and Cass were towelling off. Fours mugs were already set out on the sink next to a tin of Milo and the kettle was on. So was my bedside lamp, giving a soft focus to the mud and grass stains on the floor.
I was about to demand that no one stood on my clothes when I suddenly realised they weren’t strewn about. In fact, the flat was neater than a pin, clothes folded over the hanging frame and the bed made. A whiff of Jif assailed my nostrils. I stared at the sink; it gleamed in the lamplight.
‘Has my mother been in here?’ I asked suspiciously.
Wal went over and poured hot water into the mugs. ‘I tidied it. There was nowhere to sit.’
I couldn’t argue with that so I just took the Milo he offered.
Ed got up nervously as Wal settled himself back on the couch and promptly closed his eyes. I had an insane desire to giggle but swallowed it. We sipped our drinks in silence for a moment and listened to Wal’s tiny snores.
‘I guess Wal heard us and thought I was in trouble,’ I said.
Ed opened his mouth to say something, glanced at Cass, and didn’t.
Cass seemed a little uncomfortable now things had settled down. I got the feeling she wasn’t going to tell me why she was in my garden in the middle of the night in front of Ed, so I called him a taxi when we’d finished our drinks and walked him out to the kerb to wait for it.
‘Sorry about tonight,’ I ventured.
He didn’t laugh, or make a cheerful comment about not being bored. He just said goodbye, squeezed my arm and got in the taxi. Damn!
He’s too young for me anyway, I reasoned as I walked back to my flat. But that didn’t stop me feeling suddenly really tired and pissed off.
Cass was rinsing the cups when I got inside. Wal had settled into louder snores but was still sitting upright on the couch.
‘Cass?’ I said.
She put the last cup down and came over to where I’d flopped on the bed. I tapped the end with my foot and she sat down. Her make-up had smudged halfway down her cheeks and one leg of her stockings had torn right through and was down around her ankle. She looked like a punk reject.
‘Mum and I had a fight. She chucked me out,’ she said, fiddling with the arsenal of jewellery along her cheek, nose and lip.
‘Why?’
‘Cos she’s a bitch,’ she said with a shrug.
Her pale face was made paler by the black shift she wore and I noticed some purple bruising on her neck that looked suspiciously like fingermarks.
‘How did you get those?’
‘She wanted to watch something else on television.’
‘Your mother tried to strangle you because you couldn’t agree on a TV station?’
A shrug. ‘Jus’ need a place to stay for a few days while I get some money from Centrelink. I had nowhere to go and you said you’d help me if I ever needed it.