Truly Madly Guilty(21)

‘Where’s the food?’ Vid kept whispering too loudly to Tiffany while Oliver and Erika seemed to spend an inordinate amount of time worriedly wiping down already clean kitchen benchtops with dishcloths, as if to make it clear their guests were making a mess but they were on top of it. It had been such a relief when they got introduced to Clementine and Sam. Vid, who loved classical music, had been so excited to learn that Clementine was a cellist, it was almost embarrassing, but then Tiffany and Sam got talking politics and had an enjoyable argument. (He was a bleeding heart but she forgave him that.) ‘Do you think we could order a pizza?’ Sam had whispered at one point and Vid had roared laughing, although then they all had to stop him from pulling out his mobile phone and actually ordering one. Clementine found a chocolate bar in the bottom of her handbag and surreptitiously divided it up among the four of them while poor Erika and Oliver were busy polishing their benchtops. It was like they had all been marooned on a desert island, and had done what they could to survive.

‘They’ve got two little girls,’ said Vid.

‘I remember they said they had little kids,’ said Tiffany. ‘Cutesy little names.’

‘I don’t remember their names,’ said Vid. ‘Anyway, Dakota can play with them, you know, can’t you, Dakota?’ He looked hopefully at Dakota.

‘Uh, guys, there’s someone at the front door,’ said Dakota, without looking up from her book, as Barney, eyes alert, lifted his head from her arm and leaped to the floor, where he ran around in circles, yapping delightedly. Barney liked guests nearly as much as Vid.

Someone was thumping over and over again on the front door, ignoring the doorbell.

‘You didn’t invite them right this very minute, did you?’ said Tiffany. ‘Shh, Barney. Vid, did you?’

Vid was standing at the pantry, pulling out ingredients. ‘Of course I did not,’ he said distractedly, although he was perfectly capable of doing that.

Tiffany went to answer the door, Barney zigzagging excitedly in front of her and almost tripping her up. She found Harry, the old man who lived next door, standing on the front porch, glowering at her, as usual, in his normal outfit of old grey suit trousers (from his old job maybe?) and a white business shirt going yellow around the collar. White tufts of hair spurted from the top button of his shirt. He had white bushy eyebrows just like Barney.

‘Hello, Harry,’ said Tiffany, smiling as nice a smile as she could muster, while thinking, And how have we freaking well offended you today, my elderly friend? ‘How are you?’

‘This keeps happening!’ shouted Harry. ‘It’s unacceptable!’ He handed her a letter addressed to Vid. ‘I’ve spoken to you about it before. I don’t want your mail. I shouldn’t have to deliver your mail. It’s nothing to do with me.’

‘It’s the postman, Harry,’ said Tiffany. ‘He accidentally put it in the wrong letterbox. It happens.’

‘It’s happened before!’ said Harry belligerently.

‘Yes, I think it did happen one other time,’ said Tiffany.

‘Well, you need to put a stop to it! Are you stupid? It’s not my responsibility!’

‘Okay, Harry,’ said Tiffany.

‘Harry, mate!’ Vid strolled out into the hallway, stuffing a handful of purple grapes into his mouth. ‘You want to come to a barbeque later? We’re having Erika and Oliver over! You know, from number seven.’

Harry blinked at Vid. He put his hand inside his shirtfront and scratched. ‘What? No, I don’t want to come to a barbeque.’

‘Ah, that’s a pity,’ said Vid. He put his arm around Tiffany. ‘Maybe another time, but Harry, you know, I don’t want to hear you calling my wife “stupid”. Okay, Harry? That’s not nice. That’s not neighbourly.’

Harry looked at them with his rheumy brown eyes.

‘I don’t want any more of your letters,’ he muttered. ‘Not my responsibility. You’ve got to take responsibility.’

‘We take responsibility,’ said Vid. ‘Don’t you worry about that.’

‘Get that dog away from me!’ said Harry as Barney sniffed his shoe with fascination. Barney lifted his bearded little face, as if his feelings were hurt.

‘Come on, Barney.’ Vid clicked his fingers at the dog.

‘You know we’re always here if you need us, Harry,’ said Tiffany. He suddenly seemed so heartbreaking, like a confused child.

‘What?’ Harry looked appalled. ‘Why would I need you? Just keep your damned letters out of my letterbox.’

He shuffled off, shoulders bowed, shaking his head and muttering.

Vid shut the door. Harry was already forgotten. ‘Right,’ he said. ‘Do I feel like baking? Yes, I feel like baking! Will I make strudel? What do you think? Strudel? Yes. I think most definitely strudel.’





chapter ten



Erika was back in the dry comfort of her office. The return cab fare from the library where Clementine had given her talk had been even more than the one out there. She’d just wasted one hundred and thirty-four non-claimable dollars. She couldn’t understand her own decision-making process. Listening to Clementine had certainly not filled in any gaps in her memory. All it had done was to stir up all sorts of uncomfortable feelings, and then she’d had to deal with the phone calls from both her husband and her mother on the way back in the taxi. She couldn’t wait to throw herself into some complex work. It would clear her mind almost as well as going for a good hard run with multiple hill sprints. Thank goodness she didn’t have a job like Clementine’s, where you needed to constantly draw upon the well of your own emotions. Work should be devoid of emotion. That was the joy of work.