of her eye; the oppressive stillness. ‘Well, anyway, when you do,’ she continued, ‘you can tell her from me she’s a selfish bitch.’ I listened to the break in her voice. ‘I didn’t think she could hurt me again but you can tell her from me that somehow she did. So, you know, well, tell her congratulations.’ I saw again the overnight bag and the neatly folded pile beside it; the clothes carefully laid on the bed ready for Karen to give them shape. ‘And you can tell her from me that today was the worst day of my whole life. Apart from the day she tried to kill me, that is.’ She made awful little hiccupping sounds between words. It was heartbreaking to listen to. I had to say something.
‘She was coming to see you, Sunny. I promise you.’
Sunny barked a laugh. ‘Yeah? So what stopped her?’ I bit my lip. It wasn’t my job to tell Sunny her mother was dead. The sobbing got louder. ‘What stopped her!’ she repeated. ‘It must have been something really important.’ The sarcasm was flat.
Shit. I took a deep breath. ‘Sunny, listen to me. I have something to tell you.’
‘What? Unless you can tell me why she didn’t meet me, there’s nothing you can tell me.’
I waited until I knew she was listening. ‘It’s bad news, I’m afraid. I’m sorry, Sunny. Your mum—’ I kicked myself for using the ‘m’ word.
Sunny was on full alert. She knew something was up. ‘What? What about her?’
‘She’s dead, Sunny. Karen is dead. That’s why she didn’t come to see you today.’ I listened to the uneven breathing. ‘Is your dad there?’ A long silence followed.
‘No,’ she said finally, her voice very quiet.
‘Salena?’
Sunny coughed an ironic laugh. Fair enough, I thought. From what I’d seen of their relationship Salena wouldn’t be of any use to her anyway.
‘Are you totally sure she’s dead?’
‘Yes, I’m totally sure,’ I said. She sniffed loudly. ‘Is there someone you can go to now? Someone you can talk to? Someone you trust?’ Again the silence. I held my breath, worried that I’d made a seriously bad decision in telling her.
‘It’s okay,’ she said. Surprisingly, she did sound okay. I waited while she blew her nose. ‘I’m alright. Dad will be back soon.’
I kept her talking until she heard Justin’s car pull up outside. She broke down again when she knew he was there; when she knew she could break down. I sat in the car and knocked back the dregs of Sean’s bitter coffee. Professionally, it had been wrong to tell Sunny her mother was dead but it felt ethically wrong not to tell her. Emotionally, it was fucked either way. The whole situation was what I think is called a lose-lose.
The last of the sun had dropped down behind the hills, leaving Oriental Bay in shadow. I flicked the car heater on. The warm air revived the homely odour of dog, but not just any dog. It was the distinctive, aromatic, comforting odour of my dog. I breathed it in deeply.
I was back in Wellington. Home.
Chapter 13
S UNDAY 25 N OVEMBER 2012
I n my life, I’ve made love for a number of reasons. Love and desire, to name the two most obvious. But there are other reasons for making love that you only learn about when you’ve been together for a while. The list of reasons for having sex is even longer: lust, fun, tenderness, happiness, sadness and boredom … these are only a few. The great thing about being with someone you love is that you get to make love and you get to have sex. Robbie and I were at that awkward stage in our relationship when neither of us was quite sure if we could include making love in our repertoire of having sex yet. Though Robbie’s suggestion that we move in together needed considered discussion, in the meantime we had plenty of less wordy stuff we could get on with. And though we couldn’t yet decide onhow deep our feelings were for each other, we were unabashedly confident of the depth of our feelings for my dog, which was definitely a plus.
‘She was coming to see you, Sunny. I promise you.’
Sunny barked a laugh. ‘Yeah? So what stopped her?’ I bit my lip. It wasn’t my job to tell Sunny her mother was dead. The sobbing got louder. ‘What stopped her!’ she repeated. ‘It must have been something really important.’ The sarcasm was flat.
Shit. I took a deep breath. ‘Sunny, listen to me. I have something to tell you.’
‘What? Unless you can tell me why she didn’t meet me, there’s nothing you can tell me.’
I waited until I knew she was listening. ‘It’s bad news, I’m afraid. I’m sorry, Sunny. Your mum—’ I kicked myself for using the ‘m’ word.
Sunny was on full alert. She knew something was up. ‘What? What about her?’
‘She’s dead, Sunny. Karen is dead. That’s why she didn’t come to see you today.’ I listened to the uneven breathing. ‘Is your dad there?’ A long silence followed.
‘No,’ she said finally, her voice very quiet.
‘Salena?’
Sunny coughed an ironic laugh. Fair enough, I thought. From what I’d seen of their relationship Salena wouldn’t be of any use to her anyway.
‘Are you totally sure she’s dead?’
‘Yes, I’m totally sure,’ I said. She sniffed loudly. ‘Is there someone you can go to now? Someone you can talk to? Someone you trust?’ Again the silence. I held my breath, worried that I’d made a seriously bad decision in telling her.
‘It’s okay,’ she said. Surprisingly, she did sound okay. I waited while she blew her nose. ‘I’m alright. Dad will be back soon.’
I kept her talking until she heard Justin’s car pull up outside. She broke down again when she knew he was there; when she knew she could break down. I sat in the car and knocked back the dregs of Sean’s bitter coffee. Professionally, it had been wrong to tell Sunny her mother was dead but it felt ethically wrong not to tell her. Emotionally, it was fucked either way. The whole situation was what I think is called a lose-lose.
The last of the sun had dropped down behind the hills, leaving Oriental Bay in shadow. I flicked the car heater on. The warm air revived the homely odour of dog, but not just any dog. It was the distinctive, aromatic, comforting odour of my dog. I breathed it in deeply.
I was back in Wellington. Home.
Chapter 13
S UNDAY 25 N OVEMBER 2012
I n my life, I’ve made love for a number of reasons. Love and desire, to name the two most obvious. But there are other reasons for making love that you only learn about when you’ve been together for a while. The list of reasons for having sex is even longer: lust, fun, tenderness, happiness, sadness and boredom … these are only a few. The great thing about being with someone you love is that you get to make love and you get to have sex. Robbie and I were at that awkward stage in our relationship when neither of us was quite sure if we could include making love in our repertoire of having sex yet. Though Robbie’s suggestion that we move in together needed considered discussion, in the meantime we had plenty of less wordy stuff we could get on with. And though we couldn’t yet decide onhow deep our feelings were for each other, we were unabashedly confident of the depth of our feelings for my dog, which was definitely a plus.
Similar Books
