Dessi's Romance (10 page)

By the time I
leave my room, Robert’s left for work. Laura offers me breakfast. I settle for
coffee and ask, ‘Can I email my friend?’ I’m bursting to tell Dessi all my
news.

‘Don’t forget to
tell your friends about the cruise, will you,’ says Laura bustling away.

Robert is now
captain of a deluxe cruiser. He sails people to Tipplers, a resort area on the
Broadwater, a huge change from his old office job. He and Laura plan set up
their own business. Presently Laura is taking ‘Food Handling’ and ‘First Aid’
courses. What was strongly hinted at last night is that there’s a job for me
soon as this get off the ground.

I find my way
around this new computer and then click into hotmail.

Hi Dessi.

I’ve got so
much to tell you on MY OWN BRAND NEW LAPTOP! The house is fantastic! So-o-o
unlike the dump me and Julie live in. And you’ll never guess, Dessi. They want
me to live here. Truly. Last night Dad went on about how I could defer for a
year…I don’t even know if I’ve got an offer yet…and work up here. Naturally,
I’m going to say NO, because we have our own plans, don’t we? And there’s Abdul
to be considered. But to be perfectly honest, Dessi, I’m so tempted.

Have you
seen him, Dessi? Has he called you to explain why he didn’t take me to the
airport? Or called in or anything? Don’t forget, I am relying on you to TELL ME
EVERYTHING!

The unit we
have at Broadbeach Towers is great, but get this! Sacha has moved in with us
and is going to share my room. What do you reckon? What about farting noises in
bed??? Gross, eh?

Kaz is fine,
but turning out to be a bit of a control freak. Jodes is pathetic as usual. Got
stoned our very first night. Wonder what they all got up to last night while I
was here having D and M’s with Dad and Laura. By the way, she’s sort of OKAY,
but don’t mention THAT to your mum or she might tell Julie and then she’ll get
DEEPLY DEPRESSED and I just couldn’t stand it!

There’s so
much I want to see up here. The usual stuff, but there’s also a twice a week
market on Main Beach that’s supposed to be terrific. And the QI of course. If
you get to levels 77 and 78 they say you can see almost all the way to New
Zealand or Fiji.

Hope you’re
healing fast. Keep an eye on Abdul for me. Keep BOTH eyes on him! And tell me
EVERYTHING.

Love you.

WISH YOU WERE
HERE!

Emma.

‘You’ve got my cell phone
number, haven’t you?’ Laura says when she drops me off in front of our unit.

‘Sure.
And…thanks, Laura.’

Laura gives me a
big smile, waves and drives off, leaving me unsure as to how I now feel about
her. Laura’s friendly, too friendly, almost as if she’s determined to force me
to like her. But then some of her attitudes leave me uncomfortable.

‘Hey, everyone, I’m back,’ I
say letting myself into the apartment.

Maria Carey is
singing ‘Touch my skin’ through Kaz’s iPod. Its owner and Sacha are on the
balcony just asking for a photo-shoot, they look so good.

‘Well, look
who’s here,’ Kaz drawls. ‘Nice of you to drop by.’

Sacha sits up in
one smooth movement and says reproachfully, ‘We were worried about you, Emma.
Where were you?’

I scowl.
‘Thought we were all grown up.’

He looks hurt.
‘Sure. But we’re in a new place. Why not text?’

‘If you must
know, I stayed at my dad’s.’

‘Still…’

‘Forget it,
Sacha,’ Kaz chips in before Sash can continue. ‘How did you get on with him,
Emma?’

I don’t want to
talk about Robert or Laura, so I say, ‘What did you guys get up to last night?’

They look at
each other and grin.

‘Went to
Shooters
and got
rat-faced…’

‘Bodie and Jeff shouted
us beers…’

‘…and Jon was
chucked out,’ Sacha puts in. ‘He’s really skidding…’

This stops me
short. ‘Tell me more,’ and this deflects any more questions. Perched on a
ledge, I hear how Jon McKenna got into a fight and punched a security guy.
Good stuff, I think. Report this to Dessi. ‘What’s with him?’ I ask.

The
others just shrug.

‘Listen, you
guys… Got anything planned for day after tomorrow because my dad’s offered to
take us on a cruise up the Broadwater to South Stradbroke Island and Tipplers.
Free, of course,’ I hasten to add.

Kaz’s eyes
narrow. ‘Will there be lunch?’’

I nod.

‘So… Fine with
me.’ Kaz sits back, a sharp-faced cat promised a bowl of cream.

I go off to the
bathroom where I discover Sacha is meticulous about dividing the vanity unit.
No soggy towels. In the bedroom his bed is neatly made up. No clothes left
lying around. Still, we’re going to have to reach some agreement about sleeping
arrangements. What’ll I do if he brings a boyfriend back? The idea makes me
anxious. I don’t know how I’ll handle two guys having sex. I don’t think I’m
homophobic. But how will I know until I’m really faced with it?

Given my ignorance about Lebanon, the
morning after going out with Abdul, I boot up the computer and read:

Batroun in the northern
sector, is mentioned in the ancient Egyptian Tal-el-Amara tablets.  In
Greco-Roman days, it made a name for itself as a pirate lair.  A walk
through Batroun's twisting lanes in the old town and a visit to its
architecturally eclectic cathedral are recommended for those who enjoy
exploring the picturesque corners of old Lebanon…

A tiny envelope appears in the right
hand corner. Emma. My stomach churns. She’ll want to know if Dessi’s spoken to
Abdul. What should I say? I stares sightlessly out the window, half registering
that the day promises to be a scorcher. The other half of my brain screams:
What
do I do now?

I read her
email, read it through again, then hit the reply button:
   

Hi Emma
J

Shit! I
wish I was up there with you!!!!

That’s
so great that you’ve caught up with your dad, and that he seems so enthusiastic
for you to get along. About time someone spoilt you. Laura and the house and
pool sound terrific. I just wish I was up there with you. Maybe next year?

It’s so boring
down here. Like all that’s happening today is Dad driving me to the physio,
then calling into the supermarket and renting some DVD’s.

Abdul
DID phone the day after you left. But he only wanted to know if you’d got off
okay. He said something came up and he’d been too busy to take you to the
airport. I said, ‘Why didn’t you call?’ so he said ‘I did, but couldn’t get
through.’ He sounded really apologetic. Anyway, I didn’t know what to say, so I
got off ASAP…

I’m desperate for something more to
write, but my mind’s gone blank. I’m not used to lying. I admit to telling
white lies: like when Jodie asks if her bum’s too big in a new outfit, or if
Kaz needs a better hairdresser and can’t afford it. But I’ve never lied to
Emma, certainly not about anything important. But what else can I do? If I tell
her the truth, it’ll only mess up her holiday.

Her dad and
Laura’s house sounds great, but what if Emma decides to stay on? I can’t
imagine life without my closest friend. It’d be like losing half of me. But I certainly
understand how she feels about living somewhere nice. As I glance around at makeshift
wardrobes, chipped paint and a ten foot high scabby ceiling, it strikes me how
much Hannah must hate this place. Our ‘proper’ house is only six years old and
big enough to sleep seven. Right now Graham’s leased it to a South African
family with three little boys. I hate it that strangers are sleeping in my
room. When we return, will it still feel like mine? This old house is almost
the same size, but with only one bathroom and no built in cupboards, it’s too
much like Emma’s and Julie’s broken down weather-board. In an essay once titled
‘My Ideal House’, Emma wrote, ‘My bathroom will be lined in pink marble with
gold taps and have its own sunken spa and bidet.’

I winced.
‘Pink marble? Gold taps? Gross!’

Thinking
about Emma’s house reminds me that I still haven’t got around to finishing my
email.

That’s
about it. Nothing else to report. Give my love to the others. When will Jodie
learn not to get stoned? What’s it like sharing a room with Sacha? Great at
least that he’s neat. I can’t imagine what sharing with Jodie would be like,
she’s such a slob.

Please,
please keep writing,

I love
you
L
Dessi.

Before I dare reconsider, I hit ‘send’.
There. Done. But deep down I know that I’ll have to live with those lies and
I’ve made a bargain with the devil. What if I told her the truth? Would that
have ruined our friendship forever? What if I sent another email? Only an
honest one. This is what I’d really like to say:

Emma, I
think you should know that Abdul wants to stay friends with you, but he’s
really interested in me. I hate that this is happening, because I’m terrified
that it will come between us and ruin our friendship. Trouble is, I think I’ve
fallen for him hook, line and sinker. Now I don’t know what to do. Please tell
me it’s okay by you if I keep on seeing him…

But of
course I don’t. I’ll go with the way things are. Surely Emma knows not to pine
over a guy who only took her out once and then refused to drive her to the airport.
Wouldn’t that hint he wasn’t serious? Didn’t Abdul say he just wanted to be
her friend? Lots of great guys go north this time of year. With a bit of luck
she’ll meet someone new. She’s used to changing her guys pretty quickly. A
shame Sacha is gay as they are so fond of each other and have so much in
common.

I’m writing
ABDUL,
ABDUL
MALOUF, Mrs DESIREE MALOUF...
on an unused envelope, when I hear voices in
the kitchen. Graham and Nanna Pearl. I have one grandmother - my father’s
mother. And one grandfather, my mother’s father. I love them both, but Nanna
Pearl Cowan is by far my favourite. Nanna’s body might be old, but she’s
wealthy enough to be able to travel widely and she intends seeing every bit of
the world before she dies. Graham might joke about his mother’s escapades, but
I love having a grandmother who considers visiting India as the only way to
celebrate turning seventy-five. Lately Nanna’s become interested in Asian
religions. Like, she’ll say, ‘I would rather be a Buddhist than anything else…’

I’ve no
other relatives as my other grandparents died before I was born and my parents
are only children. I suppose not having too many blood
relatives is why Emma and I are so
close…

Emma!
I have to stop thinking about her. Does Abdul have other relatives in
Australia? I know there’s been fighting in Northern Lebanon between religious
factions all wanting to control the country and between Israel and Lebanon. Me
being quarter Jewish and Abdul a Muslim, does that make us natural enemies?
Would we even have met if we weren’t Aussies?

I hop into
the kitchen to find Dad talking to Nanna Pearl. Her face lights up as she
exclaims, ‘Darling! Feeling any better?’

‘I’m fine,
Nanna. I‘m fine.’ I head towards a chair and place my damaged ankle on a
stool. From the look on Graham’s face, I guess they’ve been talking money.
Seems that I’m only half-right. It’s about Hannah and money. Nanna turns back
to Graham and says, ‘Surely she doesn’t have to work such long hours.’

‘The
bank expects it. If women want equal positions and salaries, they must work the
same hours as male executives.’

Nanna Pearl
shakes her head and gives up offering advice. Turning to me she says, ‘Darling,
here’s a little something,’ and hands me a DVD.

‘Always
spoiling you kids,’ is how Hannah describes Nanna. But I view Nanna Pearl as
wonderfully generous, someone who never turns up without bringing us something.
‘Thanks.’ I read the title aloud, ‘Mr Blandings Builds His dream House.’

‘All about
renovating. Seems appropriate, don’t you think?’’

‘Nanna,
when did our family come to Australia?”

Nanna
looks pleased. ‘Didn’t think you’d be interested. My great, great grandfather,
Moses Cohen, came out in 1852 during the gold rush.’

‘Did he
make his fortune?’

‘He made
enough to marry well, have eight children, build several houses and give two
daughters expensive weddings.’

‘What
happened to the money?’

‘His
grandsons lost most of it in the Depression. Rags to riches back to rags in
three generations. Shame isn’t it?’