Our Magic Hour (8 page)

‘Hey, Adam, how did the session go yesterday?'

‘Good, really good. Listen, can I drop around now?'

‘This is all so
intrusive
!' Nick hollered when she hung up. He made a joke of it,
but Audrey knew he was frustrated.

‘I'm sorry,' she said. But he was already kissing her forehead, heading for the shower.

He came out dressed in his uniform, hair wet.

‘We might get to see each other one day,' he said, fastening his watch.

‘Everything's stranger than normal.'

‘It'll swing around again.'

Audrey touched the back of her hand to his. They linked fingers.

Sylvie phoned four times while Audrey was with her client. Audrey knew better than
to worry, but she left work and drove out to Tyabb all the same. The sun was low
in the sky, the houses huddled together. The wind flattened the long grass by the
foreshore.

Sylvie had a head cold. She was flushed and unhappy. She sat at the table in a dramatic
slump. She fiddled with the cord at the waist of her dressing-gown. Audrey boiled
the kettle and kept her hands busy slicing lemon.

‘I had coffee with Helen,' she said.

‘Oh,
que t'es sympa
, going to see her before you came to see your own Maman. I've
been so lonely here, I feel like nothing is worth it.'

Audrey found the honey and spooned some into her mother's cup. ‘We organised it a
while ago. I just wanted to know how she was doing.' She knew she sounded defensive.
‘It's hard to get out here during the week.'

‘You don't have to visit me like I'm some
vieille bique
in a home. Just call me.'

‘I do.' Audrey set the cup of tea in front of her mother and sat down. ‘I called
you on Tuesday. I told you about Emy, remember?'

‘Yes.' Sylvie poked at her hair. ‘Why don't you do something like that?'

‘What, work in Japan?'

‘Something exciting, at least. Take a risk.'

‘There's not a lot of scope for overseas travel with child protection.'

‘Why don't you try something else? Do something you like.'

‘I like my job.'

Sylvie lit a cigarette. Audrey reached for the ceramic ashtray.

Nick phoned while she was stopped for petrol coming home.

‘I got caught up with Maman,' Audrey said. ‘I'm still on my way.'

‘It's okay, I haven't left work yet. That's why I'm calling.'

‘What's happened?'

‘It's not a big deal.' A pause. ‘Some fruitcake held Tim at knife-point today. They
made us go to debriefing.'

‘What?' On the bowser there was a sticker prohibiting mobile phones. She fumbled
with the petrol nozzle. The foul-smelling liquid trickled over her hands. ‘Were you
there?'

‘Yeah, I had to intervene. Nobody was hurt or anything. The debrief 's taking longer
than I thought. I just thought I should call.'

They arrived home at almost the same time. The house was cold. Audrey kept her coat
on as she flipped through the mail. Nick went to the fridge.

‘I don't want to go to the gig tonight,' he said, reaching for a beer. ‘I want to
drink this quickly, so I can't get called back to work later. Then I'm thinking burritos.
Then maybe some
Sopranos
or sloppy sex. Either way.' He gulped a mouthful, offered
the bottle to Audrey, and wiped his sleeve across his mouth. ‘It's like we don't
stop any more. I just want to stop for a second—'

‘All right,' Audrey said.

They walked to Gertrude Street to pick up the food, and stood waiting outside the
restaurant. Audrey watched Nick's face. He saw her looking.

‘Are you all right?' she asked.

‘Yeah. It was a long day.'

‘Was the guy with the knife charged?'

Nick nodded slowly. ‘He had Tim's collar, and he kept saying
I'm gunna fucken kill
yerrr
, and Tim was just waiting for something to happen—for the guy to stab him,
or for me to do something.'

‘He was lucky you were there.'

‘I was scared.'

The waitress waved at them from inside.

Walking home, Audrey imagined it without wanting to: blood springing from his neck,
the blade cold and mean. She sunk her face into the collar of her coat.

‘How was your day, anyway?' Nick asked.

‘I got my flu shot,' Audrey said. ‘I had a scary dad on the phone. When I was leaving
I asked for a security escort to get to the car and they sent a woman my size. What
else. Vanessa said we can expect our caseloads to double by December.'

‘What about the inquest?'

‘I sort of don't want to talk about it,' she said. ‘Is that all right? It's just
work.'

Nick held out his hand for the bag of food. ‘It's all right,' he said. ‘When does
Emy leave?'

Nick's birthday at the Retreat. It was the first time in months Adam had come along.
He and Emy smoked and gossiped out the front. Audrey didn't know what to do with
all her relief.

It seemed like everyone in the pub was there for Nick. Audrey saw him in flashes:
his narrow back at the bar, his face under the pool table lights, his hand reaching
for hers as she slipped past him on her way to the bathrooms at the back of the pub.

Yusra was queuing for the toilets, applying a deep red lipstick.

‘It's you!' she said delightedly, opening her arms, and Audrey said
Yus, you're the
warmest person I know
. They talked all the way back to the bar, heads bent together
while they waited for their beer. They sat in one of the booths. The wallpaper was
puckered as if from water damage, patterned with sailing ships.

Yusra said
How have you been holding up
. Intelligent eyes, cloud of dark hair, lipstick
on her glass. Audrey didn't have a thing to say.

‘It's okay,' Yusra said. ‘We don't have to talk about it. I'm sorry.'

They were weepy-eyed laughing minutes later.

‘I think changing hands should be a signal. Wrap it up. We're done here,' Audrey
said.

‘Same if you have to stop for a drink break while you're giving head.'

Emy, then Ben, slid in beside her on the seat. Adam's face appeared across the table.

‘I am drinking Collingwood,' he announced.

‘Is it okay?' asked Yusra.

‘Well—I don't
know
.'

Loud, happy voices. Warm bodies, safety in numbers. It was almost normal.

Nick and Audrey stayed in bed all morning, laughing feebly at themselves.

‘I don't remember getting home,' Nick said. ‘It's been a long time since that happened.'

‘Do you remember vomiting in the shower?'

‘Filthy.' He shook his head. ‘Sorry, Spence.'

Audrey's mouth tasted of stale party. ‘Do you want to go for a drive?' she asked.

‘I feel pretty seedy.'

‘Fresh air,' she said. ‘Let's go over to Williamstown.' His hand found hers under
the blankets.

Everything was funny in an indulgent, sleepy way. Nick winced as he leaned forwards
to pull on his boots. Audrey waited for him to wash his face. When he saw her lying
on the bed in her coat, he said, ‘Well, come on, are we going or not?'

‘Don't know if I can be bothered,' she said, and they laughed again.

‘What a bloody effort.'

At the gate Nick gestured for the car keys.

‘Do you want me to drive?' Audrey asked.

‘It's okay. I'd rather have something to concentrate on.'

They rolled over the bridge. Audrey wound down the window, leaned her arms on the
ledge. The river and the factories whipped by outside. Her hair licked her face.
She glanced at Nick. He loved driving with the windows down even when it was cold.

‘You know that sort of guilt you have when you're a kid?' Audrey said.

‘How do you mean?'

‘Like—not wanting to go somewhere with one parent, or having to choose whose car
to ride in. Being disappointed by a gift. Not being satisfied by an explanation,'
she said. Not protecting one parent from the other.

Nick looked at her quickly. ‘What made you think of that?' he asked.

‘I don't know,' she said.

She felt shy. He smiled at her, but his brows were drawn together. Maybe he was trying
to understand. She wished she hadn't said anything.

They fell asleep on the grass by the water, then it was late in the day, and colder.
Driving home Audrey kept an eye out for the Backwash. Nick fiddled with the radio,
settling on Johnny Cash. Audrey glanced at him incredulously, and he began to sing
along, word-for-word, and she said
You're a dag
, and he pulled the car over in the
carpark by the refinery. Audrey slipped out of her seatbelt to lean over him. She
kissed him, clutched at his jacket.

‘Someone will see us,' Nick said. His mouth found her neck. Johnny Cash ended. There
was a thick silence before the announcer started talking, dead air. Audrey was kissing
Nick's eyelids, tugging at his jeans.

‘It's like it was before,' he said, all in a breath.

Audrey sat back. Her hands fell from his chest. ‘What do you
mean,
before
?' she said.

‘Come on, Spence.'

Audrey suddenly felt foolish, straddling him in the car like a teenager. She slumped
onto the passenger seat. She looked out at the power station rising in the sky.

‘I feel bad when I forget about her for an hour,' she said.

‘I know, and I don't want to forget,' Nick said. ‘I just feel like it's everywhere.
We talk about it
all the time
.' He was wild in the eyes.

Audrey nodded. ‘Do you want to get out for a bit?'

They walked out on the boardwalk past the mangroves. She hiked a leg over the rail;
so did he. The city seemed a good thing to look at: its lights were just coming on,
the air was pretty in the cooling hour. Audrey did not like having the West Gate
Bridge looming behind her. She couldn't say why it seemed so sinister. The last time
she'd been here was with Katy, but she couldn't say that, either.

Her fingers were cold. She had to flex her hands to make them real again.

‘Happy birthday,' she said.

‘Been a good one. Thanks for last night.'

Nick's legs dangled over the water. He laid his head on her shoulder. Audrey stared
at the oil terminal. The big tanks sat squat.

They walked all the way out to the rocks and sat there. The sun fell buttery from
the pylons, beamed gold off the river. Audrey looked towards the chainlink fence
with its warning sign, Border Control, and saw three rabbits run out to the Mobil
drums, but they were gone before she could say anything. Nick was watching the punt
chugging towards Fishermans Bend. Audrey got up and walked to the fence. She wondered
if she'd imagined the rabbits.

‘I don't know if I locked the car,' Nick called suddenly. They looked at each other
again. Nick shivered. He said, ‘We'd better go back.'

The Real Wild

Before Emy's going-away party Audrey and Nick got drunk at home, then they were running
late and Nick still hadn't written a message in the card, and while he was bent over
the table trying to think of what to write, ‘Mesopotamia' came on the radio and Audrey
did a silly dance with flailing arms. Nick put his head down on the table. He was
coming off a fourteen-hour shift.

‘Wake up,' said Audrey, breathless. ‘This is very serious. We're going to a party.'
She stopped jumping around. ‘You don't have to come if you're too wrecked,' she said.

He lifted his head. ‘Nah, I'm scared you might dance like that in public.'

They arrived just as the speeches were starting, and hung back in the doorway. Audrey
looked around the room. She waved at Adam. Everyone was standing close, flush-faced,
ready to raise their bottles and glasses. On the wall over the couch, colourful cut-out
letters read SAYONARA EMY!

Patrick had his arm around Emy in the centre of the room.

‘Listen,' he said, ‘what's the first thing you see at the start of
Lost in Translation
?'

‘Scarlett Johansson's exquisite arse in those see-through undies!' Emy shouted.

‘A thing of beauty.' Patrick cleared his throat. ‘We thought it'd be nice if you
had something to remind you of us. So we had a little photo shoot—a couple, actually…'
He produced a bound album and opened it: pasted inside, pictures of their friends
pouting and clowning in flesh-toned underwear.

‘This is disgusting,' Emy said, ‘it's great.' She shrieked when she got to the photo
of Nick, thin and hairy and mock-wistful, gazing out a window in his apricot-coloured
jocks. A few wolf-whistles went up, faces turned to Audrey and Nick. Someone called
You're a lucky woman, Audrey
.

In the bathroom later, Emy collapsed onto the toilet and Audrey sat on the tiles
with her back against the door.

‘I'm fucked,' Emy announced cheerfully. She kicked off her knickers. ‘I'm just the
safe side of a really lavish vomit.'

‘Where's Ben? Is he here?'

‘He went to the servo to get some more ice. He's in a bit of a shit about this whole
thing. We're not really sure what we're going to do.'

‘What do you mean?' Audrey said.

‘I said a long-distance relationship might be hard work. Now he's sulking.' Emy stood
up and examined her reflection. She turned to Audrey. ‘It'll sort itself out,' she
said. Audrey wanted to hold her tightly. Someone had put a daisy in an empty VB bottle
on top of the cistern.

Drinking, dancing, talking in the bathroom, out in the yard: Audrey lost Nick for
a while, and found him in the hallway under the bald light bulb.