“Put the rubbish bin out when it was full.”
“Yes, but that wasn’t on the ad.”
“Put some more burgers on, Cliff,” Jack said.
Thankfully, that ended the conversation. Joelle studied the rise of the forest on the ridge. These were people who spoke a language she had never learned: a language of gestures, innuendo, and hidden meanings. No matter how hard she tried to talk like they did, people didn’t understand her.
That was what made Brian different. When they first met, in the salon, he had asked her so many questions about herself that finally she had to tell him to pipe down or she wouldn’t be able to finish washing his hair. He was one of a handful of clients who had let the salon owner know that they were happy for Joelle to trim their hair, even though she wasn’t qualified because she could not pass the TAFE written exam. Officially, she was still a third-year apprentice, even though she could cut hair as well as anyone else.
Brian had organized help for her to get her driver’s license. He said there was no reason why she couldn’t have the same kind of help to sit the TAFE exam again. Joelle was not worried about it. No one at the Vanishing Falls nursing home, where she did most of her haircuts, had ever asked to see credentials. They could see she did great work.
When the hour ended, and the next group of volunteers arrived, Joelle was tired. She took off her apron and picked up her bag from where she had hidden it under the table. Taking a deep breath, she turned to say goodbye. She always tried to be polite, even when she suspected people were making fun of her.
There was no one left to say goodbye to. The men had gone.
Across the fairground, near the jumping castle, she could see Brian holding Emily’s and Baxter’s sneakers. She turned in the other direction, walking past the rides and the clowns. She needed a moment to try not to feel upset before they saw her. It felt like a puppeteer had tied strings to all parts of her—her cheeks, her shoulders, her heart—and instead of tugging the strings upward he was pulling them down.
There was a toilet block near the kindergarten classrooms, and she headed toward it. Away from the fair, the music of the merry-go-round sounded creepy, like the sound of a broken musical jewelry box. The empty classrooms with their dark windows unsettled her. Her footsteps sounded hollow on the shadowed concrete. She didn’t like being alone in the schoolyard. It didn’t feel right.
The girls’ toilet gate was padlocked. She tried a door marked Staff Toilet. It too was locked. At the other end was the disabled toilet. Able-bodied people were not supposed to use it. There were no other toilets nearby. She needed to go, badly.
Perhaps, just this once, and she would be quick.
She opened the door. The room was not vacant. She gasped, embarrassed and surprised. Her eyes adjusted to the dim light and she saw Jack and Cliff. Jack held a glass pipe to his lips. From the delicate bulb came a milky white smoke, like that which would come out of a genie’s lamp. Cliff snatched up a clear plastic bag that had been placed on the toilet lid and shoved it into his pocket.
“Fuck off,” Cliff said.
He said it again, louder.
The rough concrete wall grazed her hand as she spun around to leave. She clutched her bag to her chest and hurried across the oval. A line of port-a-loos was set up near where the rain forest walk began. She had not noticed them earlier. She thumped up the steps of the closest one and slammed the door. Her shaking fingers fumbled with the lock. It was a relief to be alone.
Chapter 2
Saturday afternoon, August 19
Jack
Calendar House
Celia invited a group of friends over for drinks following the fair. It was the usual crew—Margo Wheeler, Annabel and Roger Fotheringham, Nick Gunn. It was a boisterous and fun afternoon, but Cliff and Kim began to relax only after everyone else had gone. Their old friends were warm toward the Gatenbys, but Jack could tell that Cliff and Kim were not comfortable. They were quick to smile and slow to laugh, listening carefully rather than talking freely.
Once the others left, Jack turned up the music and opened another bottle of champagne. If he was honest, he also felt better once his old friends had gone. Roger and Nick were like family but lately he had more absorbing conversations with Cliff, who had a broader view of things.
“Celia says you’ve got a new painting,” Kim said. “When are you going to show us?”
“There’s no point until it’s been cleaned,” Jack said.
“I wouldn’t mind seeing the painting,” Cliff said.
“Not today,” Jack said firmly.
“You’re like a little boy with a secret, Jack,” Kim teased him. “It’s sweet.”
Kim took another serving of Celia’s Peking duck pancakes. She had eaten most of them. Jack watched her with interest. After a few glasses of champagne you could see what she had been like when she was younger, or the lighthearted woman she might have been if she had married someone else.
“You know these two got themselves into trouble today,” Kim told Celia. “I saw them leaving the fair, and Jack, in particular, looked as scared as a naughty kid who is about to be sent to the headmaster’s office.”
“Don’t go there, Kim,” Cliff said.
“What happened?” Celia asked.
Jack said quickly, “Kim, we don’t need to talk about this.”
He would tell Celia himself, later, and put the incident into context.
“Kim,” Celia demanded. “Tell me.”
Kim would never refuse Celia. “They were ‘partaking’ in the disabled toilets and another parent walked in.”
“You’ve got to be kidding.”
“She didn’t see anything,” Jack lied.
He thought of the pretty young woman’s surprise when she saw them. With her dimpled cheeks and easy laugh, she had a childlike innocence. But she had seen what they were doing, and she knew what she saw. His years as a lawyer discussing options with his clients’ wives and mothers had taught him to never underestimate their understanding of any given incident.
“I think she got dropped on her head as a baby or something,” Cliff said.
“Was it Joelle?” Celia surmised. “She’s married to Brian Smithton, the butcher. The one who caused the problems with the signage.”
“He’s the one you had the skirmish with?” Cliff said.
Jack shook his head. “Hardly a skirmish.” It was a small disagreement over Jack’s decision to rename a creek on his property.
“I remember it differently.” Cliff grinned. “You had to send your missus in to sort it out for you. She had to go and give Brian Smithton a hug.”
“I didn’t give him a hug,” Celia said, softening. “I simply spoke to him. I apologized for how everything had happened. He’s reasonable. He didn’t want to break the law. He understands the sign is on our land. He needed to feel that he was being listened to.”
“Lucky Jack’s got you to calm down his enemies,” Cliff said. “You’re the gun.”
“It sounds like he’s going to need me again.” Celia’s expression remained neutral. “I don’t understand what happened at the fair.”
Jack sighed. “Joelle walked in, Cliff told her to leave, and she did. That’s it.”