Truly Madly Guilty(126)
She slid the photo into the back pocket of her jeans and watched as Sylvia leaned so far into the skip bin to rescue something that she nearly toppled in. She got herself back upright, adjusted her checked headscarf and faced Oliver, hands on her hips.
‘Oliver! There’s nothing wrong with that fan!’ she cried. ‘You retrieve that for me, please!’
‘No can do, Sylvia,’ said Oliver.
Erika turned away to hide her smile. She studied the sunlight shining on the rain-speckled tree. It actually did look pretty. Like a Christmas tree.
She tipped her head back, enjoying the sun on her face, and saw the lady who lived across the road, the one who loved Jesus, but sure didn’t love Sylvia. She was standing at her upstairs window, one hand on the glass as if she were cleaning it. The lady seemed to be looking straight back at Erika.
And just like that, it happened: Erika remembered everything.
chapter seventy-eight
The day of the barbeque
Erika stood at the entrance to the backyard clutching the stack of blue china plates Vid had handed her in the kitchen. They were beautiful solid plates with intricate, patterned designs. Willow pattern, thought Erika. She remembered that her grandmother had once had plates exactly like these. Her grandmother used to have a lot of beautiful things and Erika had no idea what had happened to any of them. They were probably lost somewhere, or broken, buried beneath the sedimentary layers of crap in her mother’s house.
That was the irony: Her mother loved things so much that she had nothing.
Erika gripped the plates tighter, filled with an overwhelming desire to keep them. She imagined hugging the plates to her chest and running next door to hide them away in her own kitchen cupboard. She would not do this. Of course she would not do it. For a moment she was terrified she would do it.
She stood without moving for a moment. When she was little she used to like going into her backyard and turning round and round in circles until the world spun. That’s exactly how she felt now. Why had she deliberately done that? It wasn’t a nice feeling. She must be drunk. Why would Oliver’s parents choose this feeling? Plan for it? Long for it? It was awful.
She focused on the little girls. Ruby toddled out of the gazebo holding Whisk in one hand and Holly’s little blue sequinned bag in the other. Holly wouldn’t like that. No one was allowed to touch her rock collection. Where was Holly?
Sure enough, Holly suddenly appeared behind Ruby, shouting something Erika couldn’t hear over the sound of classical music pouring again from Vid’s sound system. Ruby looked over her shoulder and quickened her pace. It was so cute. She looked determined to escape with her contraband.
Careful, thought Erika. Are your parents even watching you?
She looked over at the adults. Oliver was nowhere to be seen. Clementine was talking to Vid. Tiffany was talking to Sam. The four of them were just totally thrilled by each other. She and Oliver might as well not be there. They were spoiling the fun. Neither Sam nor Clementine was watching the girls right now. It was neglectful, negligent.
She watched Vid pick up a knife and pretend to conduct along to the music. She saw Clementine laugh merrily. What had she said exactly, earlier, upstairs? What was that word she’d used? Repulsive. The idea of donating her eggs to Erika was repulsive. All that time she and Oliver had spent discussing it. She thought of Oliver telling their IVF doctor, ‘We’re going to approach Erika’s best friend. They’re like sisters.’
Like sisters. What a joke. What a lie.
Erika watched Clementine pull her hair over her shoulder as Vid fed her a spoonful of something and she leaned forward to take it. Clementine was like that princess in the fairy tale who received all those gifts from her fairy godmothers at her christening. You shall have parents who adore you! Ding! You shall have musical talent! Ding! You shall live in cleanliness and comfort! Ding! You shall fall pregnant naturally as soon as you feel like it and go on to give birth to two beautiful daughters! Ding, ding!!
One old fairy got left off the invitation list. The uninvited crone. Erika hadn’t been invited to a lot of parties when she was a kid. What did the uninvited fairy do? She laid a curse of some sort. You shall prick your finger on a spinning wheel and die, so watch out for needles. But then a nice fairy stepped in and modified it. You’ll just fall asleep for a hundred years. That’s not too bad. Wait. It was Sleeping Beauty. The fairy tale was Sleeping Beauty!
She was really very drunk. She should move from this spot, but she didn’t move.
Sleeping Beauty. Clementine did like her sleep. Sleeping bloody Beauty, that’s exactly right. You’re asleep right now. You’re not even bothering to watch your children.
There was a sound. From somewhere. A sound trying to slide beneath the classical music pouring and tumbling from Vid’s sound system.
Is Clementine performing? Of course she’s not performing, Erika, you’re in the neighbour’s backyard, you’re drunk, this is drunkenness, your brain has turned to water and your thoughts are slipping and sloshing all over the place.
She heard it again.
It was knocking. That was the sound. A rapid knock, knock, knocking. She saw her mother’s face. Finger to her lips. Don’t answer the door. Yes, Mum, I know what I need to do. Not make a sound. We never, ever answer the door. We don’t want people to see our filthy secret. It’s none of their business. How dare they knock on our door uninvited?! No courtesy. They have no right to make us feel like this. We stay very quiet and very still until they go away. Some people knock in a loud, angry, accusing way, as if they know they are being tricked and they’re angry about it, but eventually they give up and go away.