Clancy of the Undertow (19 page)

Soon, we're all inside, in the lounge room, which Mum has apparently cleaned as well. She's put cushions over the most obvious stains and draped a throw rug over the side of the chair our old cat scratched to ribbons. We're sitting—mother and daughter—on opposite sides of the room and it's as formal as hell and I already know the Underhills have blown it again. Especially when Dad comes into the room nearly dragging my brothers.

‘Hi,' says Dad, trying not to appear like he's literally kneeing Titch in the back to get him through the doorway. ‘You must be Nancy, and Nancy's mother?'

Nancy's mum half gets up from her seat. ‘Carla,' she says. ‘Pleased to meet you. I've heard so much about…' her face shows an instant of social horror. ‘All of you. It's great to finally meet you.' Despite an expert recovery, I suddenly like Carla a whole lot more. She has just experienced the tip of the socially awkward iceberg I crash into every day of my life.

‘Likewise,' says Dad. I can't pick what's different about him until I realise he's wearing long pants. ‘These are the boys,' he says, finally manoeuvering Angus and Titch into the room. The three of them standing side by side is like one of those evolutionary flowcharts.

‘Hi,' says Nancy. ‘How's it going?'

Angus grunts and Titch sniffs. Better than I'd hoped, really.

We make excruciating small talk for a few minutes. This is not how it was supposed to go. Only a few days ago I couldn't wait to see Nancy and talk to her some more, but now it's like everything has been reset. Thanks, Mum. Let's force two families together just because you want a friend. Just because you want people on your side. When I hear a knock at the door I bolt to get it.

It's weird to see Reeve out of his security uniform. He's wearing a T-shirt and I realise I've never seen his arms uncovered.

‘Point me to the keg,' he says. ‘Let's get this party started.' He bobs his head behind the flyscreen, his face flickering with the sun behind him.

I open the door. ‘Welcome to my humble abode,' I say. ‘Don't take any silverware. Not that we have any. It's just, you know, good advice.'

‘Duly noted.' Reeve steps inside. ‘Who else is here?'

‘Just a friend of mine from Nature Club. And her mum.'

‘Really?' Reeve has rescued me from conversations with Glenn multiple times at the shopping centre.

‘No, she's new. Nancy. You'll like her.'

‘Nancy. And Clancy. How fancy.' I make a pained face and he bows. ‘Come on, then.'

I have no idea what makes Reeve so confident. He was in the same class as Angus at school before he dropped out. He never talked about why, but according to Angus both his parents were deadbeats on compo and Reeve had to work to support them. Everyone always assumes they know what sort of person he is because he didn't finish school, but once you knew him, you wouldn't underestimate his intelligence or ambition.

He goes, ‘So, Eloise says to say hi.'

‘Oh, cool.' I feel like I should have called Eloise, or visited her, but every time I thought about it, I just remembered Raylene McCarthy's face. Eloise doesn't need me hanging around, making things worse.

‘She would have come, I'm sure,' says Reeve, who has somehow read my mind, ‘but she's gotta work, you know.'

‘Yeah.'

Reeve pretends to examine every wall closely. ‘Makes sense,' he keeps saying, or ‘Just as I thought.' I laugh, but I do actually feel a bit embarrassed that this is the first time he's been to my house.

We go into the living room and I do all the introductions. Mum gets up and gives Reeve a kiss on the cheek, which feels like more affection than she's shown to any of her own children in years. I realise then that today is all about Mum proving how normal our family is, pretending that we act like normal people all the time, that we're not a family of dropkicks and weirdos and murderers. She's campaigning for us, trying to win over one person at a time. This is sort of horrifying, but also sort of endearing.

Once I notice this, I see she's running through a basic phrasebook:
It's been too long. You will give our best to your family, won't you? We should all catch up soon
.

Reeve smiles and nods through the social waltz, but I can tell all his confidence has dried up. He shakes my dad's hand hesitantly and I realise that people probably don't see my dad anymore, they see someone who might have killed some kids.

‘Have you got your gun on you, Reeve?' says Titch.

‘I don't have a gun, mate.'

‘But you're security, right?' Titch mimes a machine gun, shooting it one-handed from his hip. I often worry for the future of humanity, there being a small possibility that tiny psychos like my brother will one day be responsible for not only themselves but also others.

‘Not that exciting, I'm afraid,' Reeve says. ‘Mostly I walk around and check locks.' He smiles at Carla. He still hasn't sat down, and is playing nervously with his hands.

‘You hear about Dan Cryer?' says Angus. ‘Locked himself in that raffle car?'

‘I was the one who had to get him out.'

‘Classic. I heard he pissed his pants.'

‘Well!' Mum stands up. ‘I should probably get started on a bit of lunch prep. Can you give me a hand, Carla? I don't want to ruin that wonderful casserole.'

Reeve nods at Angus behind Mum's back, using his hands to indicate the extent to which Dan Cryer had wet himself.

Carla gets up and the rest of us realise we're about to be left alone together. ‘Did you want to…see my room, Nancy?' I say, deeply embarrassed by the question but pushing through regardless.

‘Yeah,' she says. ‘Absolutely.'

‘Um, Reeve?' I say. I feel like I should include him, but don't know what to say.

‘You like dirtbikes?' says Angus, cutting across me.

‘Uh, sure,' says Reeve.

‘You gotta check this shit out. I've got this DVD with insane tricks.'

‘Yeah, definitely.'

Something irks me about Angus hijacking my friend, but I'm so eager to escape I don't really care.

35

There's a moment, as we're walking up the hallway, where I try to mentally catalogue all the potentially shameful details contained in my room. I remember the unmade bed, the numerous items of scattered underwear and the half-finished mug of tea that has been on the windowsill so long it's close to developing a basic system of communication, but when I open the bedroom door, the reality is far worse.

It's only when you look at your bedroom through the eyes of a stranger that you realise it exhibits characteristics you would most closely associate with the lair of a fairytale ogre. It's not that my room is dirty, or particularly messy, it's just
all me
. Too much me, too much at once.

Nancy doesn't seem to care, or at least is too nice to say anything. She rolls the chair—mercifully free of rubbish—out from my desk and sits down.

‘That was…a little awkward,' she says.

‘I reckon.' I sit down on my bed, trying to casually search for any incriminating food scraps or celebrity biographies. ‘I think Mum's been up since 5 am preparing.'

‘Tell me about it. Mum made lasagne
and
ravioli. Enough for about twenty people. We don't even have a kitchen in the room so she went to Danny's house to make it.'

‘The hotel guy?'

‘Yeah. I mean, he's nice, but…' she makes a face.

‘Do you think your mum like,
likes
him?'

‘I don't even want to think about it. I'd like to see Dad's face, though.'

‘Do they still talk? Your mum and dad?'

‘Of course they talk. Why wouldn't they?'

‘I just thought, since they were separated or whatever.'

Nancy laughs. ‘They're not
divorced
!'

‘Shit, sorry. I didn't mean—'

‘It's fine. It's funny. Dad just gets these contracts overseas. He's an engineer. He's in Dubai helping to build some insane skyscraper. It's only like six months.'

It feels like a disruption, already, in our friendship. ‘That must be hard.'

‘They're used to it.'

‘I mean hard for
you
. Six months is a pretty long time.'

Nancy doesn't respond, just leans forward and picks the driving manual off the floor. ‘Cool,' she says. ‘You taking your test?'

‘Soon. My birthday's December 29, so I have to take it next year.'

‘Cool.' Nancy takes off her jumper. It's the first time I've seen her without layers. She's as thin as me, but in a different way. Delicate, maybe. Her head and her hands look bigger in just a tank top. I note with some jealousy the thin strap of a proper bra, and an actual reason for its existence. Everything is proportional, everything is what I am not.

‘Awesome,' she says. ‘We can cruise the streets together.' She mimes hanging her elbow out a car window. ‘The girls at my old school, they were obsessed with boys that had cars. As if owning one meant, like, instant maturity. I can't think of anything worse, though.'

‘Yeah. Complete turn-off.'

Nancy gives a smirk. ‘What turns you on, then?'

‘What? I don't know.' My mouth goes dry. ‘Not guys with cars, anyway.'

‘So how about Reeve? How does he…fit in?'

My neck flushes red, I can feel it. ‘He's a friend. He works at the shopping centre. He's a security guard… but you know that. Um, I work at this makeup place, or I used to work—but I guess I still do—anyway, he works there.'

‘Gotcha,' says Nancy, nodding. ‘He seems nice. Funny.'

‘Really. I'm not, um. We're just mates.' There's no way I can seem believable, especially as uncomfortable and flustered is my default setting.

Nancy's laughing. ‘Ooh, a man in uniform, hey?' She jumps across onto the bed. ‘Tell me everything!'

Her eyes are green as hell up close, and just like that, we've moved from casual acquaintances to
besties
.

‘No,' I say, slightly too forcefully, ‘everyone assumes that because I'm a girl and he's a boy and that we hang out sometimes and actually talk to each other that we're suddenly
into
each other.'

‘Oh, come on!' Nancy bumps up and down on the bed.

‘No, really. It's the worst. I feel like we can't hang out outside of work because people will assume we're
together
or something.'

‘You can tell
me
!'

‘I'm serious.'

‘Go on!' She's shaking her body around like a toddler who's not getting its way. It's pretty annoying. ‘Tell me, tell me!'

I go, ‘I'm not into guys is the thing,' and it's a few seconds before I realise what I've just said. I want to jump straight back in time three seconds and put a pillow over my face until my stupid mouth stops moving. ‘I mean… you know, I'm not…' My useless brain cannot provide me with one more fucking thing to say.

The smile falls from Nancy's face. ‘Oh, God,' she says. ‘Shit. I'm so sorry.'

‘No, it's fine,' I say. It's all a joke, I think. A funny joke.

Nancy pulls her legs up under her. ‘I get carried away sometimes. I didn't mean to offend you. I was just trying to be, like, what friends are like. You know. I'm so lame.'

‘No, it's fine. I'm not offended. I mean, I don't know what friends do either. I'm not exactly super practised in that area.'

Nancy buries her head in her hands. ‘I'm the worst.'

‘No you're not.'

Nancy looks up at me, her fingers dragging her cheeks down. ‘The worst.' She picks up the driving manual. ‘It's like, they should give you one of these, for how to be friends.'

‘And then a written test,' I say. ‘One I could study for.'

‘Exactly. And they wouldn't let you out in the world until you were ready, you know? Until you knew how to do it. And then what to do once you'd made them.'

I lie back on the bed. The familiar smell. The familiar feeling. ‘I need a manual for everything, actually.'

‘You know,' says Nancy, ‘how some people seem to just have it all together? Like, they're just born with all the answers?'

‘I hate those people.'

‘They're the worst. The rest of us, like, we're just born with the questions.'

Ripping off a band-aid, I think. Diving into the freezing sea. ‘I've never told anyone about it,' I say, almost physically forcing out the words. ‘About not liking boys. It's just not…and you might not even want to hear about it.'

Nancy turns to me. ‘No, I do,' she says. ‘I do.'

I grind my wrists into my eyes. ‘I don't even know what it is, or what it means. If it means anything. I don't know what it is. I've just always been, you know, the opposite. Of what I'm…supposed to be.'

‘You're not
supposed
to be anything. I don't reckon.'

‘I don't know. Maybe I haven't been old enough to understand it. But it's like, part of me that I can't even talk about because I don't know what it is.'

Nancy nods.

‘And there's a girl I really like. I've liked her ever since I met her. I just…I didn't even know what it meant at first, but I just needed to be around her. And it's love or lust or just another feeling that no one's ever had before. I don't know. I don't even feel like myself when I'm around her. I don't know what to do.'

‘You feel what you feel,' Nancy says. ‘You can't really stop to wonder about it.'

It's a cliché for a reason: the weight rising off me. Not from my shoulders, but from my chest and my heart. I don't need answers, I just need someone to listen. ‘I've always known, I guess. Not
known
, though. Not when I was younger. Just…'