Metin: Where is she holding the party?
Me: He holds it at different venues. This time it’s at a Greek restaurant in Leichhardt.
Metin: Rhodes?
Me: Yep.
Metin: I hate that place.
Me: I’m not a fan either. But Ruby and I missed the last party. Alex really wants us to be there.
Metin: And Alex is a guy?
Me: Yes. The instructor. Who, by the way, I have zero interest in. He treats us all like one big family. It means a lot to him for us to celebrate with him. And we’ve made some good friends. That’s what group pain sessions do.
Metin: What’s the point of you going? You don’t drink. That place is known to be a pick-up joint.
Aydin: How about lunch under the bridge at Kirribilli?
Me: Relax. I know how to take care of myself. I’m a big girl, remember. Survived twenty-eight years without a problem so far.
Aydin: Sorry, lost in translation there. Is Kirribilli a problem for you?
&*(@&)(@&#)(@#)@()@#&) !!!!!
Me: Sorry Aydin! I was just chatting with another friend.
Aydin: I’m not stimulating enough for you?
Me: No! No! You’re very stimulating.
Aydin: Wow. I’ve never impressed a girl so much with such little effort
Suffice to say, I end up making plans to see Aydin for lunch and Metin for dinner, both on Sunday.
I log off and rest my head against my desk, thoroughly exhausted.
Forty-Two
Dad calls me as I arrive at the Sydney Refugee Centre.
‘I spoke to some real estate agents,’ he says. ‘If we sold this house and paid the bank, we could buy a flat or small town house.’
My ears prick up. This is progress. ‘Okay. I’m listening.’
‘But not in this suburb. It would need to be out west, where it’s much cheaper. Do you think your mother would consider living in a flat? I won’t need to tell her the real reason for selling. I’ll try to convince her that something smaller is easier on us. Not mowing the lawn, less housework.’
I throw my bag under a desk, sit down, put my head in my hands and sigh deeply.
‘Esma, are you there?’
‘Yes, Dad. I’m here.’ I sit up. ‘Even assuming this is an option, how will you explain the bank taking a chunk out of the sale proceeds? Don’t you think Mum would notice that? She has to sign the papers, you know. Her name is on the house too.’ I am struggling very hard to avoid sarcasm.
‘Oh, I can probably explain something about fees or capital gains tax.’
‘You wouldn’t be subject to tax as it’s not an investment property.’
‘But she doesn’t know that.’
I snap, ‘Dad! Can you hear yourself? You’re worried about her discovering what you did because she’ll feel betrayed, and yet you’re considering lying again! Mum is not a child, you know. Sheez!’
‘Esma, I’m doing this because I love her. I want to protect her. Please understand, I’m only doing this to save our marriage.’
‘I can’t deal with this now, Dad. There are some kids here who have real problems.’
Silence on the other end of the line. I’ve gone too far. My stomach lurches.
‘I’m sorry, Dad. I didn’t mean that,’ I say quietly.
‘It’s okay, darling,’ he says sadly. ‘You’re twenty-eight with the problems of a fifty-three-year-old.’
Something inside me twists, and guilt at pushing my father like this sets in.
We’re writing poetry in class today. Christina raises her hand. ‘I met American soldier one time. His first time leaving his country is war in Iraq. He know nothing about me or my people. I am trying to writing what I feeling in my poem. I am writing something about the boat I come on. It being a wooden whale. We being like Jonah. But we inside the whale more than three days. I was inside two month.’
Christina’s too shy to read the poem aloud and I don’t push her. Sonny volunteers instead. He stands and throws his shoulders back confidently.
I come in boat
To a new country
My family waving goodbye but hearts breaking like bones of friends soldiers broke
When will I become a refugee, not boatperson?
When will I become a human being, not a refugee?
When will this country becoming home, not refuge?’
He grins at me. ‘You like? I think it very good, yes?’
I smile fondly at him. ‘Yes, it is, Sonny.’
I turn to face the whole class. ‘When we get the digital-storytelling training, you can perform your poems to the camera. Tell your story on the screen.’
They nod and we spend the rest of the class working on their poems.
Later, I step outside to do some photocopying when Lisa pops her head out of her cubicle and asks me if I’ve heard from Nirvana.
‘Heard from her about what?’
‘How she is?’
‘I spoke to her a couple of days ago. Nothing new. Engagement party preparations. She helped deliver triplets on Tuesday. Crazy mother-in-law. Why?’ I eyeball her.
‘I’ve just been so busy ... I’ve been meaning to call her but haven’t had a chance.’
I study her face and give her a quizzical look. ‘Honest?’
She waves her hand airily. ‘Everything’s fine.’ She looks behind me, through the window at the students, hard at work. ‘You better get back to class.’
I’m up late tonight talking to Aydin when the conversation turns towards our past. The dating kind. Given that I don’t have much of one, he’s the one in the confessional.
‘So have you been in love before?’ I ask.
Okay, so it’s the same question Metin asked me, but I’m pretty sure I’m not going to have the same reaction.
‘Yes. But then life got a bit complicated and my girlfriend couldn’t handle it.’
I twirl my hair around my finger. ‘What do you mean, complicated? What happened?’
‘Just stuff,’ he says.
‘Ah, Mr Mysterious, hey?’
‘Why is my past important anyway?’ he asks cheerfully. ‘I’m a different person now. I’m looking ahead, not behind. All those girls are irrelevant. Does that reassure you?’
‘I’m not asking you because I feel threatened or insecure. I’m just curious because the past shapes us all.’
‘Yeah, the past sure does shape us,’ he says dryly.
‘You said life got complicated ... I just wanted to know what you meant by that.’
‘I won’t be hostage to my past,’ he says. ‘Some things you want to keep out of the present.’
‘Aydin, I have no idea what you’re talking about,’ I say impatiently.
‘Give me some time, Esma,’ he says. ‘There’s plenty of time to focus on the past. Let’s just enjoy now.’
I pluck at my pillow. You know what? I don’t need Aydin’s confessions, I don’t need to know everything about him. If information is power, then there must be a power in withdrawing any interest in that information.
So I change the subject.
Ruby and I are getting ready for the boot-camp party. Ruby is all boobs and long legs tonight, in a short white Grecian dress and killer heels. Her hair looks magnificent, spiralling down her back, highlights dancing off each curl. She’ d stop traffic.
‘I’m cheering for Aydin,’ she says as she runs the hair straightener through my hair. I’ve been filling her in on what’s been happening. ‘There are some things you just can’t put up with in a guy. Being a tight-arse, for example. Being a mummy’s boy. And being the jealous type.’
I sigh heavily. ‘Yes, I know, Ruby,’ I say. ‘But I don’t think Metin’s the psycho-jealous type.’
‘There are no acceptable degrees of jealousy. You either trust or you don’t.’
I nod slowly. ‘But ...’
‘But what?’
‘But I honestly think he’s just reacting to what happened to him and once he feels secure
with me he’ll relax.’
Ruby rests the straightener on the dressing table and rolls her eyes. ‘Esma,’ she thunders, ‘he’s got some serious emotional baggage. And you’re still in interview mode, on your best behaviour, but Metin’s already got two strikes against him. Cut it off now before it starts to get messy.’
I stand up and rub some serum in my hair. ‘Yeah, I know, I know,’ I say wearily. ‘I’m meeting Aydin for lunch tomorrow afternoon, then I’m having dinner with Metin in the evening.’ I put my face in my hands. ‘Ruby! This is shocking! My mum’s to blame. It’s all her fault: “What if you miss out on your kismet?”’ I say, mimicking my mother’s voice. ‘I feel like an absolute bitch!’
‘So it’s time to make a decision and ignore all that fairytale destiny talk.’
I groan loudly. ‘I’m going to make a decision tomorrow night.’
‘Good girl.’
Don’t think the irony isn’t lost on me. I’m getting to know two guys at the same time and possibly rejecting one because I think he has an unreasonable paranoia about being betrayed. I need to make a decision and take a risk. It’s only fair. Not to mention that, under the circumstances, I feel like a major hypocrite trying to convince Metin to trust me.
When we’re finally on our way to the party, I ask Ruby how she’s going to play it tonight.
‘I’m sick of childish games,’ she says. ‘I’m not some cheap distraction. As far as I’m concerned, tonight is about having fun and making him regret sending me mixed signals.’
‘Good. Because nobody has time for childish games.’
Alex has booked out half of Rhodes in Leichhardt. We arrive fashionably late. It’s strange seeing everybody dressed up when we’re used to seeing each other in gym clothes. As we walk in, I notice we’re being checked out by the guys and girls standing around the entrance and near the bar (it’s always scarier when girls size you up). The latest dance music is blaring through the speakers and the room is buzzing with energy. Ruby suddenly grabs my arm.
‘There he is,’ she hisses. ‘The bastard looks good too.’
Alex is standing in a huddle of guys and girls across the room. He’s animated and enthusiastic as usual, talking and waving his arms around. And then he catches sight of us and his face lights up. He grins, excuses himself from the group and heads straight towards us.
‘You’re kidding,’ Ruby says. ‘My God, I hope he’s bipolar because this is getting ridiculous.’
‘Quick, let’s go to the bar,’ I hiss back. ‘If he’s giving you mixed signals, give him a mixed response. He’s going to have to work hard tonight.’
We turn around and head straight to the bar. I order a lemon squash and Ruby orders a Red Bull and vodka. Pina, Theresa and two guys, Adam and Bradley, join us. Ruby’s in her element. She looks fabulous and is making us all laugh. I can tell we’re turning heads. I watch her. Not once does she so much as throw a glance in Alex’s direction. It’s as though he doesn’t exist.
We use an eventual lull in the conversation as an excuse to work the room and catch up with some of our other new friends. We spot Kalinda and Mo. As we walk towards them, Alex steps into our path.
‘Hey, it’s great to see youse could make it,’ he says warmly. He seems slightly nervous, which is a good thing. Even though his words are addressed to us both, his eyes are on Ruby.
‘Mmm,’ Ruby says distractedly, looking around the room.
‘Can I get youse a drink?’ he asks.
‘No. Thanks,’ Ruby says bluntly.
‘I’m fine, too, thanks,’ I say, a little more graciously.
‘So, um, Ruby, I’ve got to announce some awards and make a speech now, but can we talk later?’
She turns her head slowly to him and says casually, ‘Sure. If I’m still around.’ Then she walks off to the bar to get herself a drink.
I don’t even bother to wipe the grin off my face. Alex is standing still, watching Ruby.
‘You stuffed up.’ The words come out before I can stop them.
He looks at me and sighs. ‘It’s complicated.’
I give him a knowing look. ‘It’s complicated, is it? How original, Alex.’
He looks so wounded that for a moment I feel sorry for him.
‘Yeah, I know,’ he mutters. ‘I want a chance to explain things to her. Am I too late?’
‘Too late for what, Alex? You’re too late to mess her about again, but if you want to apologise and explain, well, I’d say Ruby’s bigger than too late.’
By the time the awards and speeches are finished, most people are drunk. It’s a fairly boring sight when you’re sober, and way past my cue to leave. Ruby’s had a fair few drinks too and is tipsy. I go to the bathroom and when I return I ask her if she’s ready to leave.
‘I’ve agreed to hear Alex out,’ she says with a shrug. ‘But don’t worry, I know what I’m doing.’
‘I know,’ I say. ‘I’ll wait for you. Pina’s trying to tell me a story about her trip to Europe, except she’s so drunk she keeps getting it confused with her trip to Thailand.’
‘It’s okay,’ she says gently. ‘I spoke to Pina and we’re going to share a cab home. She lives around the corner from me. I know you’ve been hanging around here longer than you wanted.’
‘No way,’ I say. ‘What if things don’t go well with Alex? I can’t just leave you.’
‘Oh Esma,’ she says affectionately. ‘It’s fine. Don’t go all protective chaperone on me.’ She hugs me tight. ‘Love you! Now get out of here.’
When I get in my car I check my phone. I’ve missed five calls from Nirvana. It’s very late so I send Nirvana a text, asking her if she’s awake. Within seconds, she calls.
‘What are you doing up so late?’ I ask as I reverse out of the car park.
‘I broke off the engagement,’ she says and then bursts into tears.
Forty-Three
I drive straight to Nirvana’s house. I call my parents on the way and let them know not to wait up for me.
Nirvana is a mess. We sit on her bed, my arm around her shoulder as she tries to compose herself enough to talk. Her bed is strewn with empty chocolate wrappers and packets of crisps.
‘I can’t do this,’ Nirvana says with a sob. Then she takes a bite out of her Kit Kat. ‘We’re not even married yet and she’s trying to take control. She’s so jealous of me. I’m sick of her nonstop comments about losing her son. I’m sick of fighting about whose family we spend more time with, like it’s a competition. She’s seriously freaking out that Anil will be closer to my parents. As if that’s somehow going to make him love her less. He adores his mum! And I’ve got no problem with that. But he has to stand up to her. He can’t keep making excuses. She’s not a kid. She knows exactly what she’s doing.’
She blows her nose and then looks up sharply, as though she’s remembered something. ‘Lately things have been really tense at their place because Neela and Sunil keep fighting. I don’t know the full story and Anil doesn’t say much about it. But I think his mum is trying to compensate for Neela’s bad marriage by making this massive deal about our marriage plans. And I think Neela resents all the fuss and attention over our engagement when she’s going through rough times with Sunil. And if all that wasn’t bad enough, his mum wants the wedding in India.’
‘India? Why?’
‘Because most of Anil’s family is there and they can put on a bigger wedding there because of all the connections they have. She wants it in all the newspapers.’ Nirvana moans. ‘To think we wanted something intimate and low-key. Now she’s talking about getting stamps with our photos on it, and a helicopter entrance to the engagement party.’ I snort and she looks up from her tissue and manages a smile. ‘It’s so corny and it’s just not me. But I could handle that if it meant we had the wedding here, as we planned. How can I expect all my friends and family to fly to India for my wedding?’
‘What does Anil think?’
She winces but doesn’t say anything for a moment,
plucking at a loose thread on her quilt. ‘That’s just it,’ she says eventually, a slight tremor in her voice. ‘I think he’s caved in to the pressure. At first he tried to convince her to have the wedding here, but she started the emotional blackmail. “Just give me this one last gift before I lose you to Nirvana and her family. Who knows what will become of Neela and Sunil – give me some happiness.” I was there, Esma. She didn’t hold back.’
‘Do you have any family in India?’
‘Some. But most of them are here. It’s only convenient for her side. How can I expect my friends and family to fork out the money to go to India? My aunts and uncles here have three or four kids each. With the flights and accommodation, it would cost them a fortune. My parents are pretty angry, too. They haven’t got the money to keep up with her plans, but they can’t say that without losing face. It’s enough that they’re paying the dowry and buying gold for each member of his family. A Rolex for Sunil, for God’s sake! I can’t stand him as it is.’
‘Do you have to, though? Can’t you put your foot down?’
She grabs a bag of chips and opens it. ‘Yes. I would have. I refuse to do something just to save face or keep the gossip factory busy. I made that clear to Anil. I never want to be a hostage to my culture.’
‘I’m with you on that one,’ I say. ‘So what happened with Anil? How did you break it off?’
She wipes her eyes with a fresh tissue. ‘We were at his mum’s house this afternoon when she started on about the wedding again. She was talking as though a decision had been made! And Anil wasn’t correcting her, even though he’ d promised me the night before that he’d talk her out of the idea. But she was so fixated. I couldn’t stand it any more.’
‘You lost it, huh?’
A smile spreads slowly up to her eyes. ‘Totally,’ she says guiltily.
‘What happened?’
‘I went a teeny-weeny bit overboard and started yelling at her. Anil was shocked and tried to calm me down. But she was yelling back, saying that I was twisting her words, deliberately assuming she had bad intentions when all she cared about was our happiness.’
I raise an eyebrow but don’t interrupt.