Each Way Bet (6 page)

Ten minutes later, laden with purchases, Jill pushed Emily’s front door closed with her butt – and was back in seclusion. She took another deep breath and then, putting the perishables away and leaving the rest on the counter, she poured herself a glass of wine and took it with her Three Piece Meal Deal over to the coffee table. She flopped onto the couch and opened up the KFC boxes, leafing through the pile of magazines on the coffee table while she did so.
Good Reading
,
Pandora
,
Australian Bookseller
&
Publisher
– not one asking intrusive questions about tongue insertion. Jill smiled happily. After dinner, she would take her wine upstairs and have a bubble bath, then invest some time whitening her teeth, then perhaps enjoy a book, or television, or just play music. And, later on, coffee and chocolate. And that meringue and cream pastry. Last of all would be bed – a whole bed to herself to stretch out in, and sleep in on.

Jill smiled again. Then, while dunking a chip into thick, brown gravy, she spared a moment to wonder what on earth the kids were having for dinner that night. Although she’d defrosted the mince in preparation, she strongly doubted her sister would be able to transform it into anything her nieces and nephew would consider edible. Especially given her apparent predilection for hommus and whipped cream.

Jill paused with the chip halfway to her mouth and felt a surge of guilt. Then she looked around and let the tranquillity wash away the guilt and replace it with a sense of righteousness. She deserved this, she really did. And most probably she was worrying herself about nothing. More than likely they were enjoying themselves hugely with their aunt, and having a wonderful meal to boot. Maybe even something they would never dream of trying if she cooked it, but because it was Aunt Emily, they would give it a try and finish every scrap. They’d probably barely even notice she was gone. Yes, no doubt they’d be fine. Just fine.

‘I want
Mummy
!’

‘Um, what
is
this?’

‘Do we
have
to eat it?’

‘What about if I vomit in it?’ Kate asked sweetly, gazing at her aunt through a stiff, dark fringe that almost covered her eyes.

‘Why? Are you sick?’ Emily looked across at Kate with concern but, as she did so, everybody else at the table chortled as if she had just made a joke. Emily glanced at each of them in turn: Matt, tall and big-boned like his father but with his blond hair shaggy and desperately in need of – well,
something
; Kate, dressed entirely in black and with a short, spiky hairstyle that would, if she ever bent down near an oversexed echidna, mean serious trouble; Megan, looking overgrown and scholarly in her school uniform and making the other two seem even more ragged; Cricket, perched on a chair insert, her brown eyes alternating between filthy looks at the food, and filthy looks at Emily. This was already shaping up to be not quite what Emily had in mind, especially as what she had had in mind involved four neat, well-mannered children scattered around the table eating her food and sharing snippets of their
lives with each other whilst she looked on benignly and scattered pearls of wisdom amongst them every so often.

‘Maybe I
am
sick.’ Kate pushed the mince around her plate with a fork and then looked at her aunt enquiringly. ‘So I’d better leave this. In case I
do
vomit, you know?’

‘Looks like you already have.’ Matt pushed his plate away and stood up, wiping his fingers on his windcheater. The waistband of his baggy, oversized jeans immediately settled at a point around his lower hips, which left the ragged hems dragging across the floor. ‘Sorry, Aunt Em, can’t possibly finish – already ate at a friend’s. Thanks, though, it was, um, delicious.’

‘Me too,’ said Megan, laying her cutlery neatly across the centre of her plate before smiling apologetically at her aunt. ‘Maybe it’s because we usually, like, eat at about six. And now it’s nearly seven, so we’re sort of
past
it, if you know what I mean?’

‘Cwap,’ said Cricket shortly, pushing her food around with a blue plastic spoon shaped like an aeroplane.

‘
What
did she say?’ Emily regarded her niece with puzzlement and then looked over at the other three. ‘Did she say what I thought she said?’

‘Probably.’ Megan played idly with a selection of silver bangles on her right wrist as she frowned at her youngest sister. ‘She’s got a mouth like a sewer.’

‘Well, in this case she’s right.’ Emily stood up and, to the stunned silence of her dinner companions, started gathering plates. ‘It
is
crap. Sorry, guys, I’ve never done anything with minced stuff before. How do fish and chips sound?’

‘Cool.’

‘Yummy!’

‘Excellent!’ chimed in Megan, obviously forgetting that she was ‘past’ eating. ‘We totally love fish and chips!’

‘Okay, let’s get organised. Matt, get some money out of my
purse and go grab some fish and chips. Megan, you can help me clean up. Kate, ah – you guys have a dog, don’t you?’

‘Yes,’ said Kate, standing up and pointing out into the backyard where a mangy looking terrier-cross could be seen scratching itself half-heartedly under a tree. ‘He’s just out there.’

‘Well, it’s his lucky night. Go feed him this.’

‘What if he dies?’

‘How much?’ Matt came back over to the table with his aunt’s purse in hand.

‘I don’t know.’ Emily looked up at him and shrugged. ‘How much do fish and chips cost for you lot?’

‘Oh, um – about fifty or so?’

‘Grab sixty and see how you go.’ Emily took a stack of plates over to the kitchen. ‘Just ask everyone what they want. And get whatever your dad likes while you’re there. Surely he’ll be home soon?’

‘Oh, Aunt Emily?’ Kate leant against the edge of the table and looked across at her brother through her fringe. ‘Is it okay if I go with Matt? Help him carry them back, you know.’

‘Don’t need help. Besides, thought you were sick?’

‘I’m feeling better now. And I think you do need help.’ Kate was still staring at him steadily. ‘To add it up and stuff. After all, it’d be a criminal shame not to get
all
of Aunt Emily’s change. Out of sixty bucks, that is.’

‘Oh, don’t worry about the change,’ said Emily, opening the dishwasher up, ‘just make sure you get enough for everyone.’

‘We will,’ Kate smiled at her sweetly. ‘Won’t we, Matt?’

‘Suppose so,’ he replied, looking at his sister grumpily. ‘C’mon then. Let’s go.’

‘C’n I come too?’ asked Cricket, scrambling down from her chair insert. ‘Let me come too!’

‘No way!’ yelled both her brother and sister simultaneously as they headed for the door.

‘Bloody buggers.’

‘What!’ Emily looked at her aghast and then turned to Megan for confirmation. ‘Did she say –’

‘Yep,’ replied Megan equably, tossing a long blond plait over her shoulder. ‘Oh, Aunt Emily, don’t put the dishes in the dishwasher, it’s broken. We’ll need to do them in the sink.’

‘Are you serious?’ Emily stared at the pile of dishes and pots.

‘Totally. Mum hasn’t got round to doing anything about it.’ Megan plugged the sink and then, after squirting a liberal amount of dishwashing liquid in, started to fill it. ‘It’s an absolute pain. Anyway, Aunt Emily, seeing as you’re staying here for the night, do you think we could, you know, have a chat or something?’

‘Sure,’ said Emily with pleased surprise. ‘What about?’

‘Not now.’ Megan cast her youngest sister a quick glance. ‘But, like, later maybe?’

‘Not a problem. Whenever.’

They finished off the washing up in companionable silence. And there was quite a lot of it too. Emily had used a variety of pots and pans and spices to conjure up the crap she had placed before them – it certainly hadn’t been easy. And, she reflected a trifle resentfully, if she had known beforehand that the dishwasher was out of order, she might have opted for take-away in the first place and saved herself a lot of trouble. While they washed and dried, Cricket took the mince outside and poured it around the dog’s bowl. Then she returned to sit back at the table, swinging her legs and staring at her aunt, much as she had been ever since she realised that some sort of swap had taken place without her knowledge. Fortunately she was the only one of the children to take their mother’s disappearance to heart. The other three seemed to have accepted it, almost as if it was a daily occurrence rather than never having happened before in living memory.

Just as the last dish had been put away, a key was heard in the front door and Emily braced herself for a few questions from her brother-in-law. Not that she didn’t get along with Jack – in fact, they had a terrific relationship and she felt almost as close to him as she did to her own brother – but she had never actually swapped places with his wife before. Instead of coming in, though, he could be heard talking to someone at the front door. Cricket sent her aunt one more telling glance, and scrambled down to go and report the imposition to her father.

Megan grinned at Emily. ‘She’ll get over it. She just doesn’t like change, that’s all.’

‘Well, her father’s home now, anyway. He can take over.’

‘Huh!’ said Megan with feeling.

‘What do you mean?’ Emily asked with a frown. ‘I thought he was the helpful type?’

‘And so I am.’ Jack came walking through the lounge-room doorway, carrying a large cardboard box which he placed down on the floor near the table. ‘See?’

‘Hi, Jack, um, you’re looking well,’ said Emily politely, although really she was a bit surprised by how tired and
not
well he was looking. As a senior surveyor in a private company, his days of casual gear for full-time fieldwork were well behind him and the suits he now spent most of his time in had never really flattered his large frame. But today he looked even more uncomfortable than usual, with a definite slump happening around the shoulder region and his short blond hair doing a rather strange David Beckham impersonation that probably meant he had been running his hands through it a few too many times today.

‘Hello, Em, Megan. Would someone,
apart
from Cricket, like to tell me what the hell’s going on?’ Jack looked around the family room and kitchen area. ‘Where’s Jill?’

‘Wun away,’ said Cricket darkly, clutching on to her father’s pant leg to ensure that he did not follow suit. ‘Thee hath wun away.’

‘Cricket – enunciate,’ frowned her father, ‘stop with the baby-talk.’

‘Anyway, she hasn’t run away,’ Megan said. ‘She’s staying at Aunt Emily’s. I think she’s sick or something – her teeth were all greyish.’

‘She’s
not
sick,’ countered Emily quickly, while nevertheless recollecting that Jill’s teeth
had
looked a little off-colour, ‘and I’m sure her teeth are fine. She’s just having a break, that’s all. Maybe she needs more vitamins. Anyway, I’ll explain in a minute, Jack. First – do you normally have a drink when you get home?’

‘Not usually.’

‘Well, let’s make an exception because I don’t know about you, but
I
really need one.’

‘I’m beginning to think I may too.’ Jack opened the sideboard and held up a bottle of scotch. ‘This do?’

‘Perfectly.’

‘While I’m pouring, do you and Megan want to go and get the other two boxes? And there’s a punchbowl too. They’re all at the front door.’

By the time Emily and Megan had collected everything and reunited it all with the first box, Jack had made the drinks and held out a tumbler of scotch to his sister-in-law. She accepted gratefully and sat down at the table, taking a deep sip as she did so.

‘Ah, that’s better!’

‘This lot’d drive anyone to drink,’ said Jack with an amiable grin at his two daughters. ‘But now would you like to tell me what you’ve done with my wife?’

‘I’m her!’ Emily announced grandly, lifting up her glass in a toasting gesture. ‘At least until tomorrow afternoon, that is.’

Jack regarded her appraisingly. ‘No offence, but I think I’d prefer the original version. Do I get a choice?’

‘Unfortunately, no.’

‘So where is she?’

‘At my apartment, having a well-earned rest.’ Emily took another sip of scotch. ‘I think she left a note somewhere for you explaining it. But there’s nothing to worry about, I’ll take over where she left off, that’s the deal.’

‘Think I’ll go look for this note.’ Jack ran his hand through his hair distractedly and then abandoned his scotch and headed off in the direction of his bedroom. As he left, the front door could be heard opening again, and shortly afterwards Matt and Kate arrived in the family room bearing dinner.

‘Come and get it!’ announced Matt grandly.

‘I’ll get plates,’ said Megan.

‘God, no!’ Emily held up her hand. ‘Remember the dishwasher? Just rip off a piece of paper each and use that.’

As soon as the white butcher’s paper was folded back, the aroma of deep-fried fish and chips filled the room. Emily took an appreciative sniff as she tore wide strips of paper off and passed them along to the others.

‘I haven’t had fish and chips in I don’t know
how
long,’ she said happily, loading some chips onto her paper plate, ‘this is fun!’

‘S’not,’ said Cricket, glaring at her.

‘How much fish did you get, Matt?’ asked Megan, digging around under the chips. ‘Like, there’s mostly dim sims and potato cakes that I can see.’

‘There’s heaps of fish,’ Matt replied, exchanging glances with Kate. ‘Here you go, have half of mine.’

‘All right, all explained – sort of.’ Jack came back into the room tucking a folded sheet of paper into his pocket. ‘Hi, guys. I see we’re eating gourmet tonight.’

‘Coz
she
cooked cwap,’ said Cricket accusingly.

‘Megan, could you –’

‘Already done, Dad.’ Megan laid the marker down and rejoined her family at the table.

‘Where’s the salt?’

‘Hey, don’t use all the sauce!’

‘You pig! You just sucked your finger and put it on the last potato cake! I
saw
you!’

‘Who took all the bloody dim thims?’

‘Hey, hey!’ Emily remonstrated weakly, glancing towards Jack for support. But, seemingly unaware of the activities of his offspring, he was just sitting rather slumped at the end of the table staring morosely out of the window.

While Emily was looking at him, wondering what to do next, Cricket reached across to help herself to more chips and managed to snag the corner of the butcher’s paper in her overall bib. Then as she sat back down the paper came with her, sending the remainder of the chips cascading across the table. Kate flung her hand out to stop the chips infecting those on her paper, and promptly knocked the sauce bottle over, which, as its lid hadn’t been replaced properly, splattered globules of red across Megan’s meal and over her school jumper. She leapt up, knocking her chair backwards and yelling. ‘Thanks a
lot
, freak!’

‘
She’s
the freak!’ said Kate nastily, pointing at Cricket, who was sitting rather stunned with a handful of chips clutched in her hand and the butcher’s paper still caught in her overalls.

‘As if I haven’t got enough to worry about!’ Megan yelled as she wiped sauce off her chest and flicked it across at Kate. ‘You’re both freaks!’

‘You’re
all
freaks,’ commented Matt, sitting back well out of harm’s way.

‘Enough!’ roared the father of the assorted freaks, coming back to life and abandoning his contemplation of the window.
‘That’s enough! You should be ashamed of yourselves! We’ve got a guest here, for god’s sake, and you’re behaving like a pack of bloody savages!’

‘You thaid –’

‘ENOUGH!’

There was a stunned silence around the table as everyone glared at each other and then concentrated on finishing off their meal, obviously unwilling to be the first to speak. Megan dabbed serviettes at the sauce on her chest while Kate used her sleeve to wipe the spots from the table around her. Deciding not to get involved, Emily just ate the rest of her chips slowly and thought about the cool peace of her apartment. She wondered if mealtimes were always like this and, if so, how Jill had lasted as long as she had.