In Ecstasy (13 page)

After that I washed my hands of her. Everything that Mia had once been, all those things about her I'd admired and loved, were being eroded by drugs. There was nothing whatever that I could do to change or even stop what was happening. Worst of all was knowing she was with Glenn. No matter what she thought of me, you'd think she would have heeded something, one tiny thing of what I'd said. The idea of her having sex with him in that disgusting filthy flat made me want to vomit.

But Dominic was worried about her and wanted me to try to get through to her.

‘You don't get it, Dom. She won't talk to me. She doesn't want help. You can't help those who won't help themselves,' I said. There is only so much a person can do. If she wanted to ruin her life, that was her choice.

Dad seemed relieved to hear from me. I figured Mum had already called him and probably blamed him for the way I was behaving. I think he was pleased to be put in the position of rescuer. He said I could move in with him and Kylie. It seemed like my best option.

When I got home Damon's car was in the driveway. He and Mum were in the kitchen sharing a bottle of wine. They both looked pained when I walked in.

‘Mia, I'm so sorry,' Mum said, jumping up and approaching me.

I put my hand up to stop her. ‘Don't,' I warned. ‘I've had enough.'

‘I shouldn't have hit you.' Mum was trying not to cry but it didn't interest me. Her emotional blackmail wouldn't work on me any more.

‘I'm going,' I said, and the tears started to roll down her face.

‘Please, don't do this.'

‘Why, Mum? It's better for all of us. I'm always in the way anyhow. Reminding you of the big mistake you made.' She flinched like I'd hit her. It made me almost smile. Then I delivered my final blow. ‘I'm going to live with Dad.' I slammed the door behind me, but I could still hear her crying.

I was going through my wardrobe, packing clothes into a suitcase. I didn't have a lot to wear. I suddenly realised how much weight I'd lost—nearly all my clothes were way too big for me. I picked out the smallest things I had. Barely half a suitcase.

‘Mia?' It was Jordie. He was standing in my doorway, head down and crying.

‘Hey, Jord, what's wrong?' I sat on the edge of the bed and held my hand out to him. I didn't like to see him cry. It reminded me of bad times.

‘Why are you going away?' he asked, sniffing loudly.

‘I can't stay here any more,' I said, holding his hand. ‘It'll be okay, Jord.'

‘But I don't want you to go. You promised me.'

I
had
promised him. When Dad walked out and Jordie cried and cried about how Dad didn't love us any more, I promised, no matter what, that he and I would stay together.

‘I'm only going to Dad's, Jord,' I said brightly. ‘We'll be together on the weekends you come. Please don't cry.'

‘But you're never around. I never see you any more.'

‘Things'll be different at Dad's. I promise, Jord.'

Dad and Kylie live in a street of new townhouses interspersed with perfectly clipped hedges and jacarandas. It was part of Dad's change of life. When he left Mum he got rid of his old self for a new one. He traded his four-door sedan for a two-door sports car, and the wife and kids for a slightly younger, childless woman.

Kylie was putting on a good face. I doubted she wanted me there, but she'd do anything for Dad. Be nice to the kids and he won't leave. Because if he could walk out on his own flesh and blood, what real hold did she have over him?

She gave me the downstairs bedroom with its bland carpet and cream walls. It was completely different to my room at home. Mum had let me do whatever I liked there, so I painted it orange and pink and Mum bought me sheets and a doona cover in the same colours, shot through with gold. I had cushions scattered everywhere, and frangipani candles. I used to love my room. But this one suited me fine. I didn't care what it looked like. At least when I came home late I wouldn't have to walk up the stairs and past their bedroom. Jordie would keep the room we'd shared on the top floor, so I had my privacy. Sweet.

‘I thought maybe tonight we could all go out to dinner,' Kylie suggested, watching me put my things away.

‘I've got plans,' I said. Which was not true, but I hoped Glenn would be happy to see me anyway.

She was quiet, not knowing what to say. Trying to be the interested quasi-stepmother, which, thanks very much, I didn't need. I already had one mother too many.

‘Maybe another night,' I offered, wanting her to go away.

Later, as I was getting ready to go out, I heard her and Dad talking.

‘Don't push her, Kylie,' he warned. ‘She's not going to be your friend straightaway. Give her some time.'

I looked at myself in the mirror. Good, I thought, Dad'll help keep her off my back.

Mia dropped off the radar. In the weeks that followed she took days off school at a time. When she did turn up it was like she was vanishing. She was thinner than I'd ever seen and her skin looked awful.

It drove me mental that I still kept thinking about her, wondering where she was, if she was safe, how much she was using. It scared me to think about what she might be taking now. Sometimes I thought about ringing her mum and telling her everything I knew, but then I'd be betraying her, and for what? I didn't know what to do.

In every other respect life was great. Dom was studying and training hard most weekends. He had exams coming up, but I still saw him. I spent heaps of time at his house. His dad taught me chess, and told me stories about his travels that made me want to do something real. Maybe work in a Third World country myself. I wanted to help people. If the irony of this escapes you, don't worry, I didn't see it either until it was almost too late.

Kylie did as she was told and left me alone. I went to Glenn's every night and most times didn't bother going back to Dad's. I was wagging school a lot, and I knew it wouldn't be long before they started phoning, but Dad wasn't getting on at me. It wasn't hard to convince him that I was at school, or at Sophie's, and that all the drama was in Mum's head. He'd make comments about me being skinny and needing to eat more but he never went any further than that. Finally, I had some space.

My birthday was coming up and Dad wanted to organise something. He told me I could invite my friends over, but when I looked at the white sofas and glass-top coffee tables, and pictured Glenn and his dirty feet, I couldn't see it working.

‘What about we just do something with the four of us,' I suggested. Dad looked pretty pleased that I'd included Kylie.

‘Okay,' he said, pulling out his wallet. ‘You go and organise a cake.'

Typical Dad. His idea of doing something for my birthday was to supply the money. But then he handed me his ATM card. I took it from him, and my heart was racing with relief and anxiety.

‘The PIN is 9486,' he said. ‘Use the savings account.'

The thin card felt as heavy as a revolver in my hand.

‘Oh, and Mia,' he said as he walked out of the room, ‘buy yourself something for your birthday. Maybe some clothes?'

I couldn't look at him. All I felt was the piece of plastic in my hand.

One day during the first week at Dad's I'd come back from Glenn's to find both Dad and Kylie out. I walked through the house looking at their things. Really looking. Everything in the house was Kylie—oriental pots and weird abstract art—and I couldn't see my dad in any of it. The stuff was a world away from the dad I used to live with. He was a huge motor sport fan and he had signed photographs of Grand Prix drivers crossing the finish line. He had piles of books too, on deep-sea fishing and Australian plants.

My dad loved gardening. At the end of the day he'd walk around outside, a stubby of beer in hand, watching his plants grow. Here, they had a tiny paved courtyard with cacti growing in pots. He didn't have a study; a flat screen computer sat in an alcove with coffee table books on French houses and European interiors.

Dad used to drink beer, but now he drinks dry martinis, the same as Kylie. They go to cafes and the theatre. I was interested in my dad's reinvention, though it hurt. I walked around picking up photos of them on a skiing holiday together, a holiday Jordie and I hadn't been invited to. I opened drawers and looked inside highly polished, deep-blue pots.

Kylie was a different type of housekeeper than my mum. Mum's house is always immaculate. The floors sparkle and the bathrooms and toilets gleam. Everything has its place: the scissors go in this drawer, fly spray in that cupboard. She can put her hand on whatever she wants immediately. I guess I was too messy for Mum—she didn't like where I was heading. I refused to fit into the pigeon hole she dusted and vacuumed for me.

By contrast, Kylie was only superficially a neat freak. Her polished appearance hid a slob. In normal kitchens there's always a drawer that's full of odds and ends: empty tape dispensers, hair lackeys, broken pens, toothpicks, strange plastic bits that look like they belong to something but you're not sure what. Well, every drawer in Kylie's house was full of that sort of crap. When I opened a cupboard door I had to be careful a whole pile of junk didn't fall on my head.

Snooping around through their stuff, I found loads of loose change. Every pot or drawer had money in it, and I even found a fifty buck note at the back of a drawer full of receipts and stuff. I held it in my hand and knew I couldn't not take it. It was as simple as that. My account was dry, my stash was gone and here was some money. Glenn was pretty stingy. If I didn't have the cash, I didn't get a pill. I was taking less of them than ever before and finding it more and more difficult to reach nirvana. So I pocketed it. They probably didn't even know it was there. I didn't feel particularly guilty—they have plenty of money.

But fifty bucks doesn't go far, not when a pill costs forty—well, twenty for me. Over the next three weeks I pretty much raided all the pots and drawers of their gold coins. Not completely though. I'd leave a few coins around so the drawers didn't look too empty.

And then Dad hands me his card and PIN.

I went to the patisserie and ordered a cake. I used the card and asked the girl for extra cash. She didn't even look at the name on it, just gave me the fifty bucks. It was too easy. Dad would happily believe the cake was eighty dollars.

Then I went to Jeans West and bought a couple of pairs of jeans. Size ten was way too big now and I fitted into an eight. When I looked at myself in the mirror I felt pretty pleased with my appearance. I bought a couple of tops, too, and got a cash advance of a hundred. By the end of the day I had a cake on order, new gear to wear and a hundred and fifty bucks in my pocket.

I knew I needed to be careful with the money. I bought a stash from Glenn that I hid in my bedroom, but I was already worrying about what I'd do once that ran out.

When things first started going missing no one thought a lot about it. It happens. People lose stuff, or if they're careless and leave it lying around someone will take it. It was a couple of MP3 players to start with, then some mobiles and later some purses. It soon became obvious there was a major thief amongst us.

Staff started watching students closely and the thefts eased up, but only for a week or so. The school was plastered with posters to Keep Valuables Safe, and Report Suspicious People to Admin. It was kind of like a terrorist alert. Everyone was suspicious of anyone behaving oddly.

Mia seemed to escape scrutiny, maybe because she was hardly ever at school, but I know now that if we'd cross-referenced her days at school with the days there were thefts there would've been a perfect match. I know this because Mia was the thief. She took my purse and accessed my cash card. So what idiot tells someone their PIN? But in the old days I told Mia everything, and even when we weren't friends any more it never occurred to me in a million years that she would steal from me.

She took my purse. The cops found it in a rubbish bin near the shops. She took five hundred bucks, though she could have taken more. My balance at the time was over five thousand, money I'd inherited from my grandmother. She could've taken up to a grand, there and then, but she didn't. The cops asked me to look at the security video and I watched the way she hid her face from the camera. It was a blurred and grainy image but I had no doubt it was Mia. Her fingers hit the buttons quickly and her head darted around several times. But she never looked at the camera—it was like someone had told her where the camera was—and she pocketed the cash quickly. It filled me with revulsion to see what she'd become. A thief. Stealing from me.

‘No,' I told the cops, ‘I don't know who it is.'

‘But this person knows your number.' The cop looked at me sceptically. ‘Who've you told?'

I looked him in the eye. ‘No one. I had it written down in my purse. I know it was dumb, but it could have been worse, it could have been a heap of money.' I shrugged as if relieved. The cop looked at me like I was the stupidest person he'd ever met.

The day before my birthday I came home to find Kylie in my room. She hadn't heard me because she was too busy looking through my drawers. All my books were on the floor. She'd obviously flicked through the pages searching for something. It takes a cunning bitch to think like that. I leaned against the doorway watching her. I darted a quick look at the photo of me and Dad and Jordie—its heavy Indonesian box frame has plenty of room at the back to hide a stash—but she hadn't touched it. So I was pretty relaxed as I watched her go through my things, thinking how much I'd like to punch her in the face.

Eventually she looked up and saw me. Her eyes nearly popped out of her head and she went bright red.

‘So,' I said, calmly, ‘did you find it?'

She got up from the floor and wiped her hands nervously down her white pants. I hate white pants.

‘What?' she said, nervously.

‘Whatever it is you're looking for.' I felt the anger bubbling up in me, from way down deep in the pit of my stomach.

‘Ahh, Mia...' she shook her head, finding it difficult to speak.

‘Get out of my room!' I screamed at her. The rage surged up with such ferocity it took me by surprise. She was backed against the wall and couldn't get out because I was blocking the way.

‘You stupid nosy slut,' I screamed even louder. ‘How dare you? You think it's okay to ruin a family. To steal a father from his children. What right do you have, Kylie? What fucking right?'

I think she was frightened I was going to hit her. And maybe I was. I'd never felt such ferocity before. She was crying.

‘I thought—' she began.

‘Get out of my room, you stupid bitch.' I didn't want to hear anything she had to say. I took a step towards her. ‘GET OUT!' I screamed as her white arse disappeared down the hallway.

I locked the door. I knew Dad wasn't going to let me get away with that so I prepared myself. I didn't want to have a fight with him. I unscrewed the back of the frame and took out my stash. I had one pill left, which I was saving for my birthday. I took it and waited. I was glad that I'd given it to Kylie. She knew, when she went into business with Dad, that he was married, that he had two kids, and she still set out to get him. Seduced him through emails and text messages, by wearing short skirts and flaunting her body at him. What chance did Mum have? And I hated what she'd turned my dad into—some pompous try-hard who thought he was young and trendy. I was glad I'd taken her money, and her jewellery. She had no morals. She stole husbands, and that was far worse than anything I'd done.

I listened to his car pull up, heard the garage door open. A slam, footsteps and then the low murmur of voices. I heard her wail ‘Matthew.' She doesn't call him Matt, like everyone else. And then more soft voices and crying. Cry a river of tears, you cow, I thought, like me, Jordie and Mum did when Dad walked out.

I was waiting for Dad. I'd started something and I wanted to finish it. The E was my truth serum. Bring it on, Dad.

‘Mia?' His knock on the door was gentle but his voice was stern.

‘What?' I asked pleasantly.

‘I want to talk to you.' He rattled the door knob. ‘Unlock this door.'

‘What, Dad?' I asked innocently as I opened the door.

‘You know.' He looked angry. Now this was interesting, watching Dad deal with someone's hurt feelings. ‘You've really upset Kylie.'

‘I know.' I sat on the bed and he sat next to me. ‘But she was in here, snooping through my stuff.'

‘She's worried about you—'

‘Give me a break.' How dare he take her side? ‘I don't want to hear any of that crap. She's a devious, manipulative bitch.'

‘Stop it,' he warned, really angry. ‘She agreed to you coming here. She was more than happy to have you live here.'

I sat there with my mouth open, staring at Dad like he had just told me he was a cross-dresser. What was he saying?

‘Right,' I muttered, ‘I should feel grateful that the slag who stole my father allows me to live in a house with him? Go figure, Dad.' I got up off the bed. I didn't want to talk to him any more. I wanted to get out of there.

‘She thinks you might be using drugs,' Dad said after a moment.

I glared at him, like I couldn't believe what he was saying. ‘And you'd believe her wouldn't you? You'd believe her over your own daughter?' I was hysterical. It was a waste of an E. I'd totally come down. He'd spoiled that for me too.

‘She thinks you've taken money and jewellery. And accessed our bank account,' he said, quite gently. I couldn't even speak. Tears were filling my eyes and nose.

‘I can't believe you.' I wiped at my face. ‘I'm not staying here.'

‘No,' he said. ‘If this is going to work you've got to live by some rules.'

‘And what rules are those, Dad?' I shouted at him. ‘The ones you make up as you go along? If you don't like the deal, just leave. Isn't that what you did?'

‘Mia,' he said, grabbing my arm.

‘Don't,' I snapped at him. ‘It's a bit late to start being the concerned father.'

By the time I got to Glenn's I felt like everything was unravelling. I didn't belong anywhere. No one wanted me. No one loved me. What had happened to me?

‘Hey, calm down,' he said, taking me into the bedroom and out of sight of the guys in the lounge room. ‘What's happening?'

I told him about Kylie going through my stuff, and the fight with Dad, but he wasn't interested. He kept looking at the door like he'd rather be out there.

‘Here,' he said, pulling out a couple of pills, ‘you need to forget it, babe, and chill out.'

In a little while I was able to view the situation more rationally. I lay next to Glenn on the bed and now he listened to me. He completely empathised when I explained to him what my parents had been doing.

‘They don't understand you, Mia,' he said. ‘They're trying to get you to fit into their lives without allowing you to be yourself.'

He was right. That's exactly what they'd been doing to me. Pushing and pulling, using me to wage war against each other, not caring about my feelings in the slightest. I felt all the sadness pouring out of me. I cried until I was empty. I never wanted to leave.

Mum and Dad both texted me that night, but I deleted their messages. And then Mum kept calling. Finally I decided to answer, just to tell her to back off.

‘What do you want?'

‘What's happening?' she cried. ‘Please tell me.'

‘I can't talk to you,' I said.

‘Please come home. Please, Mia.'

‘No,' I said. ‘I don't have a home. Not with you and not with him.'

‘Are you doing drugs?' she finally asked.

Dad had been whispering in her ear too.

‘No,' I shouted into my mobile. ‘That's so typical, Mum. You can't handle the fact I've left because of the way you treat me, so it has to be something else doesn't it? And Dad didn't leave you because Kylie enticed him away. He left because you're a control freak.'

I switched my phone off. For a moment I wondered if she'd try and find me but she didn't know the address, and anyway, she's not really the type. She loathes confrontation. I was surprised she'd even called.