Hindsight (16 page)

‘She is.’

Mira watched Tina’s reflection in the mirror. Their eyes met briefly and Tina startled, staring right back at her briefly, then shook her head and went back to brushing her teeth.

‘I know this!’ Ben said, still excited. ‘This energy. I’ve always felt it — all around me! I just never knew what it was.’ He chuckled and stepped away from Mira. ‘I can feel it everywhere now. Like a blur. This house is so full of her!’

‘Your father, too. Would you like to touch him?’

‘No.’

Mira heard a thud, as if Ben had slumped against the wall.

‘I don’t. I … I’d rather not. I mean, not now. Later maybe, when I’m in the right headspace.’

‘If not now, then when?’

‘Maybe never. Not for him, Mira. He was too much of a womaniser. I used to think the laundry window was left broken so I’d never be locked out after school if I lost my key, but Ma told me … I shudder to think how many strange women he brought up those stairs. How many “strange energies” still lurk here.’

‘How does
none
sound?’

‘Say again?’

‘None. Aside from your mother, obviously. I just watched your whole life fly past on those stairs … Aside from your mother, the only woman I saw alone with your dad was a lady who was fitting new drapes and your mother was upstairs, ahead of them. Unless I missed something?’

‘But she told me …’

‘A lie, Ben. It had to be, unless he was meeting them somewhere else.’

The stairs creaked in the hallway.

‘Meeting who?’ Mel called from the doorway.

‘Ma! You’re home early?’

‘On time, actually. No deaths or emergency surgeries through the night means no overtime for paperwork this morning. So what’s your excuse? What are you both doing up so early — in there — and you without your sling? Are you crazy?’

‘Couldn’t sleep,’ he said. ‘It was too itchy.’

‘Oh, really? And you took it off him?’

‘I’m up, thanks to the curry. Too hot for me.’ Mira said.

‘It was a little spicier than usual,’ Ben agreed, diplomatically. ‘It made my eyeballs sweat.’

‘Oh, pardon me for spicing life up a bit. I thought you’d both be sick to death of bland meals. Next time, cook your own damn homecoming meal! Oh, and if you must use the toothpaste, Mira, don’t squeeze the damn tube in the middle!’ She stormed off down the hall and stairs and threw something into the kitchen sink that sounded like cutlery.

‘Donning hat of diplomat,’ Ben said with a chuckle to Mira. ‘If you hear me scream like a baby send in the army.’

Mira frowned, and the bathroom door creaked as he drew it closed on his way out.

‘Sorry,’ he said, pausing mid-creak. ‘When I opened that spare toothbrush for you last night, I neglected to mention we had spare pastes in the top drawer too; different flavours. Spare everything, really. Islanders tend to stock up on bargains every month on the mainland, so sniff around for the spearmint. It’s usually best for defeating curry breath — unless you’d like me to find it for you?’

She scowled, until she realised he must be joking. After ten years of having other people clean her teeth, hair and fingernails, she resented any kind of help with her personal care, and he knew that better than anybody. The more she’d argued and refused to cooperate at Serenity, the more sedation she’d been given and the more they’d done for her when her body was powerless to fight them. Thankfully, Ben had put an end to all that and now she could be grateful that he’d never been involved in any of her sponge-bathing. She’d die of embarrassment. ‘Go see to your mum,’ she replied flatly. ‘And straighten your diplomacy hat. Sounds like it’s on crooked.’

‘Fine, but leave my tube out when you’re done, please. I’ll need it myself this morning.’

She doubted that. He smelled delicious, sweaty or not. She listened to him go after the door closed fully and opened the top drawer of the three-drawer vanity unit to find it. Plenty of tubes inside, but none that felt like the right shape or size for toothpaste, except one which smelled lemony, like the floors at Serenity. Adjusting her ‘hues’ until she found yester-violet, she also found the reason.

Mel was in her nurse’s uniform, preparing for work when she’d swapped drawers, bottom for top, which put all her make-up at the top and toothpastes at the bottom. She used a peppermint paste herself, then stashed it and the spearmint in the very back of the middle drawer, which was otherwise filled with soaps, razors and skin lotions. The only tube in the top drawer that seemed to fit the shape in Mira’s hand was labelled moisturiser.

Nasty witch
, Mira thought. After squeezing it in the middle and wasting a large glob into the sink, Mira replaced it in the drawer and found the spearmint — but the tube didn’t feel like thin metal, like the peroxide paste or moisturiser. It felt softer, like plastic. She wondered how hard she should squeeze it, since all the paste at Serenity and other institutions had always been metal tubes which could be rolled up from the bottom to deliver a reliable measure, or else pump dispensers. Either way, any sight-impaired clients could dispense their own, if allowed, without making a mess.

The spearmint tube also felt too light, almost empty in her hand, and it squeezed too easily. An air bubble burst out ahead of a blockage and squirted all over her hand.

‘Oh, perfect,’ she muttered, discovering with her thumb that she’d missed her brush completely. She turned on the tap and swished water around the sink to wash away all her mess. ‘Let’s try that again.’

Success came with the third attempt, and when she’d finished, she returned the tube to its hiding place, but she couldn’t leave. Not yet. A wicked grin creased her lips. She retrieved Mel’s peppermint paste, opened it and scraped the open mouth across a soft bar of pine soap. Then she hid her little surprise in the back of the drawer for his mother to find later.

‘Taste that,’ she said and headed out for her first whole day of freedom.

Halfway downstairs, though, she heard heated whispers in the kitchen.

‘Get her out of that bedroom,’ Mel whispered angrily. ‘Your father built that mezzanine for
me
. If you’re not going to use it for yourself or any real girlfriends, leave it empty!’

‘You’re dodging the subject,’ Ben replied in strained tones. ‘If Dad wasn’t two-timing you here at the house, then where? And who were all the women? This is Straddie, Ma. Fixed population.’

‘Transient tourist trade,’ Mel said, struggling to keep her voice down too. ‘You can’t trowel up the past without getting dirt on your own hands. You’ve got enough to worry about out there with that millstone of a gaol sentence around your neck, now you want to drag Blind Bertha around every step — and with that shoulder?’

‘It’s healed well enough, and I told you; Mira’s not completely blind, just “legally blind”. She can see some things — shadows I guess you’d call them — if the light’s just right.’

‘Oh, yes, that’s very reassuring! Look, I don’t care if she can see footprints on the moon, Bennet. If you’re going to put anyone in your bed, it should be the perfect girl for you — or at least someone who can support you without being a burden.’

‘She won’t be a burden for long, Ma. She’s changing.’

‘The only thing she’s changing any day soon are her clothes!’

‘Care to make a bet? In a month, she’ll be coming and going with her own key. You have my word on it.’

‘Her own key?’ Mel coughed as if she’d choked on the idea. ‘Why don’t you train her how to sneak in the laundry window while you’re at it? You still haven’t fixed that damn thing.’ Then she sighed, as if she knew she’d gone too far. ‘Look, I know you’re not a womaniser like your father, but if you’re ready to settle down, why not start with some of the tender-hearts who wrote to you in gaol? Remember how many rich ones wanted to meet you?’

‘I don’t give a shit about any of them! I don’t need their pity. I’m hollow, not shallow. Gaol and the justice system stripped the guts out of me, and now I’ve got nothing left to offer any woman who’s fit enough to make your “perfect list”. Helping Mira to grow and mature into a woman helps me to feel like a man again. We’ve been through this time and again at the hospital!’

‘Oh, have we? And when precisely, did you mention that you’d be keeping her in your bed? Platonic, my ass! You can’t pump up the man in you by pumping it into her!’

‘You should talk; sneaking cops into my house to screw!’

Mira heard skin slap against skin.

‘
One
cop!’ Mel shouted. ‘One male friend in six years, you selfish bastard. I was too busy worrying about you — and for your information, we haven’t screwed around at all yet, let alone under this roof. We play piano, surf or watch old westerns in my room, and that’s it!’

‘Oh, give me a break, Ma. I’ve seen you coming out of your bedroom, half dressed — and I’ve heard him up there in your room, shuffling about while you’re giggling. You should hear how the floors creak!’

‘Sure, for dancing. Those old westerns are mostly musicals, and hilarious. Not that you should care anyway. I’m entitled to my own privacy, same as you — up to a point.’

‘What point is that, Ma? He’s a cop, and if you weren’t doing anything to feel guilty about, why bother trying to keep his visits a secret?’

‘Because,’ she replied shakily, ‘I know how you feel about cops, and I knew you’d put three and three together and get sex.’

‘But he’s …’

‘A friend, Ben. Pete’s a damn good friend. Always has been; for twelve years before I even met your father. So, sure we’re comfortable enough that I can have him in my room while I’m changing for work. As a gentleman he always turns his back. You have my word on that.’

‘Are you saying you don’t want to go further with him?’

‘Hell, no! I’d love nothing more. I can’t wait for things to clear up here so I can move in with him, but you should know that in the meantime, I could never mess about in this house. Can’t you feel it yourself? It’s as if your father’s still alive here — still with us!’

‘Oddly enough,’ Ben conceded, ‘I was thinking nearly the same thing a few minutes ago. But that doesn’t excuse the moods you’ve been in lately. Or your attitude towards Mira.’

‘My attitude? Ha! It’s not my fault if she can’t cut it on the outside.’ Her feet tramped towards Mira in a gust of fury. ‘Get your own breakfast,’ she said as she passed Mira on the stairs. ‘I have to change.’

Mira hurried down for the kitchen, hearing Ben at the sink making the familiar sounds of filling a kettle through a narrow metal neck.

‘Don’t mind her,’ he said, now opening the fridge. ‘She’s always cranky until after she’s hit the breakers. Surfing at dawn and dusk … well, it’s more than a religion for her. It’s an addiction.’

‘Or maybe she doesn’t like the fit of your hat?’ Mira smiled, hoping to cheer him up. She felt for the stool at the ghostly breakfast bar and found it almost exactly in the same place it had been yesterday.

‘What hat?’

‘Hat of the diplomat. Isn’t that what you said?’ Her grin broadened, and he chuckled.

‘I suppose we should leave surfing for another day. You look lovely though, Mira; ready for anything.’

‘I don’t know about that, but this fabric feels great.’ Mira brushed her hand down her rainbow-coloured skirt.

‘Bikini tops it. You can wear that shirt open if it gets too hot. Show it off … Here, let me show you.’ He came close, his fingers finding her top button, making her flinch. Opening it, he moved down to the next and leaned closer, his breath drawing nearer her lips. Heat flushed her face, making her pulse race and she felt the need to lean into him, longing to kiss him, until stung again by the memory of him getting shot during their first kiss, and falling away from her.

‘Don’t,’ she said, raising a gentle finger between them. ‘Half open will do for now.’

He lingered a moment longer and ran his finger down the side of her neck. ‘Mmmm … you do smell good. Is that coconut?’

‘It’s only sun block. Gabby recommended it.’

‘I’ll bet she did.’ He drew away reluctantly, and cleared his throat. ‘To breakfast then.’ He opened cupboard doors noisily and transferred porcelain bowls and cereal boxes onto the bench.

‘Hey, can I do that?’ Mira sprang to her feet and rounded the breakfast bar into the kitchen. ‘Wherever they are today needs to be the exact places they are from now until I leave, please, so I can find everything … I mean, if that’s okay with you and Mel?’

‘Sure, no probs. There’s a pen near the phone. I’ll draw around everything and mark labels, so Ma can see where everything needs to be too.’

Upstairs, a door slammed, and Mira smiled. She couldn’t help it.

Forty minutes later, with a full belly of toasted muesli and milk and her ‘lives’ still set to yesterday, Mira followed Ben to the garage in silence. She couldn’t stop thinking about how much trouble his mother seemed to expect from her — and Ben’s renewed pledge, to ensure that she matured into a ‘normal woman’.

How she
hated
those words! Whether he meant to demean her or not, there was no doubting that he thought she was lacking in a lot of things — and not just social skills or the ability to be independent. She knew she had plenty of weaknesses to work through but he refused to give her a list, which didn’t help. She had to figure it out by herself, but she felt certain she could prove how worthy she could be of his companionship. Then she passed their surfboards, hanging on the wall as a set while hers stood in a corner, and she realised it might take a while before they both stopped treating her as an outsider. She rounded the nose of his mother’s dusty Jaguar, and startled at the sight of two ghostly men in suits who were crouched beside the rear passenger door of Mel’s car, reaching under.