have been a model.
‘That looks all right,’ I say, tucking the label of her jumper in. ‘Why did you want to get dressed up anyway?’
‘Oh, you know. I dunno.’
She’s blushing. I heard she’s got a crush on a john, some older guy who cruises on Friday nights. He’s picked her up three weeks in a row. He drives a sporty Lexus and gives her an extra tip each time. I’ve seen her hiding the money in her tampon box, as if she thinks that will be safe from Joe.
Joe’s only known her a few weeks. He asked me to let her stay in my flat while she got on her feet.
‘She’s been abused,’ he said. ‘She needs a bit of kindness. I know you’ll be good to her.’
‘So name me one of the girls who hasn’t been abused. Big deal. You get her a flat. I don’t want to share, I’ve told you that a million times.’
Like I had a choice. She moved in the next day and I got a punch in the kidneys for my attitude. ‘You’re smart, Mandy, and you’re not out of control like some girls, but you’re gonna be a victim of your own attitude one day.’ That’s what he always says to me when he’s angry.
They used to tell me the same thing at school. ‘Young lady, mind your attitude. Why can’t you be more like your sister?’
Because I’m someone else, I wanted to answer. Because things happen differently for me. And because you have no idea who we are.
Next day at the needle-exchange van Maree stands in front of me in the queue.
‘How’s Cherie?’ I ask.
‘Gone,’ Maree answers through a mouthful of dim sim.
My heart lurches. Well, I think it’s my heart but it might be my liver or my stomach or my bowels. Anyway, something inside does a kind of hip hop because I think she means Cherie is dead.
‘When? How?’ I’m standing quite still, holding my needles. Someone shoves me in the back and tells me to get a move on.
‘Last night. She went quiet and I thought I’d better look at her and she was real pale, Casper, you know, and twitching? So I called the ambulance and they took her to the Alfred.’
‘And what did they say?’
‘I dunno. I had to get my videos back before twelve. I get home and I think, great, I can have my bed back now, I’m so sick of sleeping on that fucking couch, but the bed’s gross. She shat in it!’
‘Well she was sick, Maree. Get it? Sick? No one to look after her?’
Maree slumps off, stuffing another dim sim in her mouth. I pocket my syringes and walk around the corner to where Joe’s waiting.
‘I’m going to get off this stuff,’ I say as he hands me a deal.
‘Go for it,’ he says.
‘I mean it.’
‘Yeah well, I hear it’s been done, but I sure don’t know any of them. Unless you count the ones in the morgue.’
‘Very funny,’ I say, and I set off up the hill in Grey Street toward my corner on Burnett Street. There’s a lunchtime rush.
‘What’s your secret?’ a girl calls out from across the road. ‘I’m getting nothing.’
‘My charm and sophistication,’ I call back.
Joe’s not due back till three. I figure I’ve made enough money to take a short break.
The cool green park rolls by outside the tram window. Joggers sweat it out around the track and a couple of teenagers are pashing on the grass. I lean my head against the warm glass and relax until I remember I’m going to the movies with my sister tonight. She wants to have a drink afterwards and talk. After all these years she wants to talk. I know she’s a good person. Everyone likes Georgie. But it’s too late for talking.
I was happy this morning when I realised Cherie wasn’t dead. Now that’s gone pop and the good mood has shot out of me like air out of a balloon. I can’t believe I’m going to visit her in the hospital. She ripped me off on a deal once and I was sick for days thanks to whatever she’d cut it with. On the street these things happen all the time but you always hope the other girls won’t do you over. They do. You have to let it go.
Last summer
‘That looks all right,’ I say, tucking the label of her jumper in. ‘Why did you want to get dressed up anyway?’
‘Oh, you know. I dunno.’
She’s blushing. I heard she’s got a crush on a john, some older guy who cruises on Friday nights. He’s picked her up three weeks in a row. He drives a sporty Lexus and gives her an extra tip each time. I’ve seen her hiding the money in her tampon box, as if she thinks that will be safe from Joe.
Joe’s only known her a few weeks. He asked me to let her stay in my flat while she got on her feet.
‘She’s been abused,’ he said. ‘She needs a bit of kindness. I know you’ll be good to her.’
‘So name me one of the girls who hasn’t been abused. Big deal. You get her a flat. I don’t want to share, I’ve told you that a million times.’
Like I had a choice. She moved in the next day and I got a punch in the kidneys for my attitude. ‘You’re smart, Mandy, and you’re not out of control like some girls, but you’re gonna be a victim of your own attitude one day.’ That’s what he always says to me when he’s angry.
They used to tell me the same thing at school. ‘Young lady, mind your attitude. Why can’t you be more like your sister?’
Because I’m someone else, I wanted to answer. Because things happen differently for me. And because you have no idea who we are.
Next day at the needle-exchange van Maree stands in front of me in the queue.
‘How’s Cherie?’ I ask.
‘Gone,’ Maree answers through a mouthful of dim sim.
My heart lurches. Well, I think it’s my heart but it might be my liver or my stomach or my bowels. Anyway, something inside does a kind of hip hop because I think she means Cherie is dead.
‘When? How?’ I’m standing quite still, holding my needles. Someone shoves me in the back and tells me to get a move on.
‘Last night. She went quiet and I thought I’d better look at her and she was real pale, Casper, you know, and twitching? So I called the ambulance and they took her to the Alfred.’
‘And what did they say?’
‘I dunno. I had to get my videos back before twelve. I get home and I think, great, I can have my bed back now, I’m so sick of sleeping on that fucking couch, but the bed’s gross. She shat in it!’
‘Well she was sick, Maree. Get it? Sick? No one to look after her?’
Maree slumps off, stuffing another dim sim in her mouth. I pocket my syringes and walk around the corner to where Joe’s waiting.
‘I’m going to get off this stuff,’ I say as he hands me a deal.
‘Go for it,’ he says.
‘I mean it.’
‘Yeah well, I hear it’s been done, but I sure don’t know any of them. Unless you count the ones in the morgue.’
‘Very funny,’ I say, and I set off up the hill in Grey Street toward my corner on Burnett Street. There’s a lunchtime rush.
‘What’s your secret?’ a girl calls out from across the road. ‘I’m getting nothing.’
‘My charm and sophistication,’ I call back.
Joe’s not due back till three. I figure I’ve made enough money to take a short break.
The cool green park rolls by outside the tram window. Joggers sweat it out around the track and a couple of teenagers are pashing on the grass. I lean my head against the warm glass and relax until I remember I’m going to the movies with my sister tonight. She wants to have a drink afterwards and talk. After all these years she wants to talk. I know she’s a good person. Everyone likes Georgie. But it’s too late for talking.
I was happy this morning when I realised Cherie wasn’t dead. Now that’s gone pop and the good mood has shot out of me like air out of a balloon. I can’t believe I’m going to visit her in the hospital. She ripped me off on a deal once and I was sick for days thanks to whatever she’d cut it with. On the street these things happen all the time but you always hope the other girls won’t do you over. They do. You have to let it go.
Last summer
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