Spin Cycle (19 page)

‘You've seen
Maggie
? Alex's Maggie? I don't believe this! My god, you
have
had an eventful week! How is she? I've always liked Maggie.'

‘She is
absolutely
great,' I grab the opportunity to steer the conversation away from Keith and my gutsiness, or lack thereof, ‘and she looks a million dollars as well. We got on really well – better than I remember even. She's got a new job.'

‘Really? What's she up to, then?'

‘She's a madam.'

‘A
what
?!'

‘A madam. You know, pleasures of the flesh and all that.'

‘Oh, don't be ridiculous.'

‘I'm not. I'm fair dinkum. She and Ruby now manage a rather successful brothel in her old house over the other side of Ferntree Gully. You know, the one off Pleasant Avenue.'

‘You're kidding me.'

‘No, I'm serious. But she prefers to call herself an entrepreneur. She says she really enjoys it, but she doesn't actually
do
the work, just runs the show.'

‘I don't believe this.'

‘Believe it. And you can ask her yourself if you like because she's coming over for a barbecue on Sunday, lunchtime. Do you guys want to come as well?'

‘It's winter, you twit. You can't have a barbecue in winter!'

‘And why not? Just think – no flies, no sweat and hot food will actually be just what you feel like. Anyway, this way I'll make sure mine is the first of the season.'

‘You
are
a twit,' she giggles and then suddenly grasps her stomach tightly and groans, ‘Oh, don't make me laugh. I'll wet myself.'

‘And I'll pretend I don't know you. So, are you coming or not?'

‘Sure, why not.' Diane releases her stomach slightly and takes a deep breath. ‘It sounds great, cold but great, and I'd love to catch up with Maggie again. Madam or no madam. I'll definitely speak to David – oh …' Diane pauses suddenly and the smile vanishes from her face. ‘Let's just see what happens here first.'

‘But, hey,' I try to distract her quickly, ‘what you should really be asking me is
why
I went to see Maggie.'

‘Okay,
why
did you go to see Maggie?'

‘Well, I needed to double-check some news I heard from the kids.' I pause for effect.

‘Okay, what news?'

‘Just some news about Alex.'

‘Look,' Diane says in a tone of growing irritation, ‘either tell me or don't.'

‘My, aren't we testy!'

‘Just
tell
me,' she says slowly through clenched teeth.

‘Well, all right – if you insist.' I grin at her but one quick look at her face tells me I've probably pushed my luck as far as it can go. ‘Alex is moving back to Australia.'

‘You're joking! Whereabouts in Australia?'

‘Victoria.'

‘And whereabouts in Victoria?'

‘Melbourne.'

‘This is like pulling damn teeth! Whereabouts in Melbourne?'

‘Ferntree Gully.'

‘No way!'

‘Yes way. Next door.'

‘Next door to
you
? Right next door?'

‘Yep, right next door – the house with the vicious chihuahua.'

‘I don't believe it. Maggie told you this?'

‘She sure did. In fact she put the deposit on the house for him. He doesn't even know that it's next door to me yet. He just thinks it's in the general area.'

‘This is fantastic! I mean, I'd love to see his face when he finds out. But also, won't it be great for the kids! They must be thrilled!'

‘I'm sure they are.'

‘Oh, but what about you? How do you feel?'

I am saved from answering by the nattily clad nurse who grabs everybody's attention by emerging from behind her counter and clearing her throat noisily. Every head in the waiting room (and there are an awful lot) immediately swivels in her direction and all conversation ceases as she makes a great show of consulting her clipboard. She takes her sweet time. I bet she is totally downtrodden at home, has a domineering husband and a score of bossy teenagers, and this is her only avenue of power. She runs her finger down the list on the clipboard, taps it several times then frowns slightly … and calls out Diane's name.

We both jump up before she changes her mind while the others in the waiting room sigh collectively and return to their conversation, magazines or vacant staring out the window.

The nurse gives us both the once-over and then ushers us down a small hallway and into a room filled to the brim with high-tech equipment and a hospital bed. On the bed is one of those white shapeless gowns that insist on showing your posterior no matter what you do.

‘If you would just like to slip into this, the doctor will be with you shortly.' She pulls the curtain around Diane and the bed, ignores me completely, taps her clipboard several times again and then leaves.

Diane changes quickly and folds her clothes neatly at the foot of the bed. Then we wait, and wait, and wait just a little more. We make a few feeble attempts at picking up our conversation again, but neither one of us is in the mood now. Finally the doctor bustles in, puts a file down on the desk, and bustles out again.

‘Come over here and hold my hand.' Diane says this in such an odd voice that I bite back the smart crack that I would ordinarily have come out with and pull a chair over next to the bed. We hold hands.

The doctor bustles back in again, blinks vaguely at the pair of us, bangs some more files down, and looks like he is prepared to stay this time. He pulls open the top file and reads through it quickly before sending a broad smile in Diane's direction.

‘Well, hello again, Mrs Woodmason. We'll sort this out in a jiffy. And you are?' He turns to me expectantly, his eyes widening slightly as they flick over our clasped hands.

‘Her life partner,' I answer with a straight face while Diane chokes suddenly.

‘She is
not
! She's my sister!' She flings my hand away and struggles to sit up.

‘That's quite all right,
Mrs
Woodmason. I'm not here to pass judgement. No, not at all. Now lie back down and we'll see if bubs is going to be a bit more obliging today.' He pulls Diane's gown up to reveal her ever-so-slightly swelling stomach, and more of her pubic mound than I had really cared to see. She glares at me but takes my proffered hand again anyway.

The doctor rubs some jelly over her stomach, switches on his monitor and then starts to adjust his machinery. From the side of one of the gadgets he removes a little probe-thing and proceeds to rub it gently over Diane's abdomen. Immediately an image pops up on the monitor that looks for all the world like a floating grey jellybean. To be even more specific, it looks like a dull black jellybean that has been sucked on by a toddler and then spat out after a couple of minutes. I know because, up until a couple of years ago, I used to have these half-sucked jellies transferred from the couch cushions to the seat of whatever pants I happened to be wearing on a regular basis. The doctor continues to manipulate the probe in silence and then frowns slightly. Diane's grip is now starting to cut off my blood supply but I'm stoically not going to say anything.

‘Ah, just as I suspected,' the doctor says happily at last, his brow clearing as his theory is obviously confirmed. ‘Now you're a shy one, aren't you?'

‘What is it? What's wrong?' Diane is staring hard at the monitor as if whatever the doctor has just seen
is going to magically make itself visible to her as well. And then that's just what it does. Where two seconds ago only one greyish jellybean had floated at centre stage, now there are two.

‘Oh my god.'

‘Congratulations. I thought it might be twins the other day but I couldn't be sure, so I thought we'd better have you back. And there you have it.' He manipulates the probe so that both beans are thrown into sharp focus. And they lose that half-sucked look.

‘Oh my god.'

‘Diane! Twins! That's just fantastic!'

‘Now you wanted to know the sex the other day, and we told you about the little girl – do you want to know for both of them?'

‘Oh my god.'

‘Yes, she does.'

‘Well, just double what we told you on Monday. There are
two
lovely little girls. Congratulations to both of you, you're going to have your hands full.' The doctor smiles indulgently at each of us in turn as if he has personally bestowed this miracle.

‘So there is absolutely nothing wrong with them?' I want to have this spelled out for Diane's sake as she is obviously incapable of rational speech at the moment. ‘They're just twins, that's it?'

‘Only twins! What did you want, triplets?' The doctor smiles benevolently. ‘No, there's nothing wrong that I can see, perfectly fine little girls. Of course, being twins your doctor will book you in for another ultrasound in a couple of months but until then, stick with the date that I told you on Tuesday.

Oh, and try not to run yourself ragged, take a bit of R & R whenever you can, you'll need it.'

‘Oh. My. God.'

BANG. I thump the gavel down with gusto and loudly call everybody to order. It's my turn to be adjudicator, which is always a blessing in disguise as Ben hates doing it and usually sulks, and the girls both adore it and generally turn into power-crazed little Nazis. I look around the table, from Ben, who is lounging back in his chair trying to look ultra-casual (and not having a great deal of success), to Samantha, who is sipping her tea with an ominously full-looking writing pad in front of her, to CJ, who is squirming around impatiently while she waits for her turn to speak. It's time for our family meeting, where pocket money gets doled out and everyone gets to air their grievances and share their successes. Unfortunately, the grievances
always
far outweigh the successes.

‘Okay, CJ, you can go first.'

‘She
always
goes first!'

‘Any grievances must wait till your turn, Ben. Go ahead, CJ.'

‘I don't like Ben yelling at me, and I want my whistle back, and I want a lizard for Christmas and
also roller-blades and a Winnie-the-Pooh treehouse and a new Barbie, coz Ben's fish
died
in mine.' CJ turns to glare at her totally innocent brother and then continues quickly before her turn can be declared over: ‘And I want a funny pillow like Caitlin's got and I also want a swimming pool that you can drown in and I also want –'

‘All those things you can put in a letter to Santa, CJ, and I'd try adding please if I were you. That whistle stays confiscated till next weekend when you visit Daddy and then you can practise with him. It can be a special Daddy whistle. As for Ben yelling at you, well, Ben, could you please try to be more patient, she
is
only five, and, CJ, you could try to act a bit less brattish to your brother. Now, is that it from you?'

‘Why're all the pets dying?'

‘Oh, um, just one of those things.'

‘It's not that disease thing that Sam said was out there? The midnight one?'

‘No, of course not.' I give Sam an exasperated look. ‘Sam was only trying to be funny.'

‘But Golliwog's sick as well.'

‘Oh, the cat's just got a little tummy bug – she'll be fine.'

‘Why were you hugging Ben today?'

‘Pardon?' I glance at Ben who is staring at me suspiciously, as if I had managed to sneak in some tactile expressions of my affection without him realising. ‘When did I hug Ben?'

‘At kinder. Today. You know.'

‘I don't have a clue what you're talking about. Ben wasn't even
at
kinder.'

‘Not
that
Ben.' CJ looks at me impatiently. ‘Ben at kinder, you were hugging him when you left.'

‘Oh,
him
! The little boy? I didn't even know his name was Ben. I was only hugging him because he was lonely. He hasn't got many friends.'

‘He has
so
got lots of friends.
And
he's got a penis.'

I duck as Samantha spits a mouthful of tea straight across the table.

‘Well, he does. He told me so.'

I bang the gavel down. ‘Okay, moving on. CJ, we'll have a little chat later, remind me. Sam, could you grab a cloth and clean up. Ben, your turn.'

‘I'm fine. Nothing to say. Except that CJ is a major pest. And Samantha spilt milk all over my school jumper on Monday and you didn't say anything. And Golliwog
is
sick. She spewed all over my maths homework. And I have no fish at all now.'

‘Yep, okay. And please don't say “spewed”. It's a disgusting word. But how's school going? Up to date with everything?'

‘Oh. Yeah well, there's a thing due um, soon … and another in … but I redid that other thing. Um, new book … almost done, and …' Benjamin proceeds to lapse into pure mumble for a while before becoming understandable again, ‘… and that's all. Sam's turn.'

I resolve to put aside some time next week to go through his books to ascertain what's due and what's not, what's done and what is simply too ridiculous to be handed in anyway. But I think I'll leave his maths homework well alone. For now, I bang the gavel down again.

‘Samantha's turn.'

‘Well, I just wanted to say that I have absolutely no complaints, no grievances and no problems at all.' She sits back and smiles at me. I am dumbfounded. Samantha usually talks for at least twenty minutes and has a variety of grievances which each require individual and lengthy negotiation. Apart from anything else, I was expecting a full-on assault regarding the belly-button ring.

‘Pull up your top.'

‘I beg your pardon?'

‘Pull up your top, I want to see your navel.'

‘To each their own.' She shrugs and pulls up her jumper to expose a neat, naked navel. ‘I really think you
sooo
need to get a boyfriend, Mommie dearest.'