Ben arrived at Kath's work ten minutes early, standing out front, chewing gum and watching the local freak show go by. As he stood there with his hands stuffed in his pockets, Ben wished he'd taken up smoking. It would, he thought, complete the look, cupping his hand over the match and cigarette end so it wouldn't go out, sucking contemplatively on the end of the cigarette and blowing trails of smoke at passers-by. Times like this he imagined himself as Spider Jerusalem from the Transmetropolitan books and lamented his lost chance of becoming a journalist. Spewing his hatred of the city-life out into the newspapers every week, venting his spleen against the world at large.
Obviously it wasn't meant to be, because when he found himself over the barrel, forced to choose between writing or designing websites he'd chosen webbing. Ultimately, he felt, it had been the better choice. Writing made demands on his time he couldn't supply and it paid far less than web-page design. And whereas now he designed web-sites full-time and still kept a journal in his spare-time, he couldn't see the point in doing it the other way around. For what use would it be designing slick, flashy web-pages if no one ever saw them? Not much, he reckoned.
These were the things he told himself in the small hours of the morning to make him feel better about quitting his writing.
"Could you move along please sir," said a voice behind him. "You're uglifying public property."
Ben turned around and said, "If being ugly were a crime half this town would be in gaol." Kath glared at him and he added smoothly, "Present company excluded, of course."
Still Kath frowned at him, "Are you calling my home town ugly?" she said.
"Am I ever," said Ben. "In the last five minutes I've seen three women with beards as thick as lumberjacks!"
"Oh, you have not," laughed Kath, slapping his arm.
"I swear I have," said Ben. "And I saw two other people who I couldn't even tell if they were men or women."
"Maybe they were both," said Kath. She glanced nervously up and down the street. "Let's go find some lunch. Where do you want to eat?"
"I hear tell, down t' city," said Ben. "That they got one'a them clown-owned restaurants here. You know, that MacDouvries or whatever it's called."
"Yes," said Kath. "We do have a McDonalds here now. It's been open for two years and it's doing very well, thank you."
"My golly," went on Ben. "A McDonalds in Casino. Will wonders never cease! You know I was starting to think maybe Casino was going for the record of single largest town without a McDonalds."
"Maybe it was," said Kath. "But we have one now. We still don't have a cinema though."
"Heathens," said Ben. "Do they still show movies in the back of Civic Hall?"
"I don't know," said Kath. "I didn't know they ever did."
"I watched Lethal Weapon 3 there," he said. "The screen was a wrinkled old Holland blind and the stereo system sounded like those little speakers you can hook up to your Walkman. To this day I still don't know what the damn movie was about."
Kath laughed.
She laughed at him again at McDonalds as he reverentially unwrapped the burger, murmured "Hallelujah!" under his breath, and carefully picked the pickle off and wrapped it in a napkin. Finally placing his fries on one corner and drink on the other.
"This is my body," he said softly, indicating the burger.
"This is my blood," the large coke.
"Take and eat." And he started eating.
"What?" he asked through a mouthful of burger. "What are you laughing at?"
Kath was gasping out silent laughter, hunched over the table with tears streaming from her eyes. All she could manage was to shake her head.
"You really like your McDonalds, don't you?" she said finally.
"Who doesn't." It wasn't a question.
"I could probably name a few people who hate it."
"How can you hate it?" said Ben. "It's not like it has a particularly strong taste. As a matter of fact, it barely has a flavour at all. It's all salt and smell."
"Exactly," said Kath. "Some people don't like eating cardboard."
"I don't hear you complaining."
"Why would I? I love Macca's, can't get enough of it."
"How can you eat McDonalds all the time and still have a body like that?"
"Cheeky," she smiled at him. "But thank you. I said I can't get enough of it. I didn't say I eat a lot of it. And anyway, I work out a lot."
"It shows," said Ben, looking her up and down.
Kath gasped. "Double cheeky!" This time she reached across the table and slapped him on the arm. "And thank you again."
"Hey!" Ben grabbed his arm where she'd slapped him. "What did you do that for? I was only pointing out how good you look!"
"Ssh," hissed Kath. Her eyes darted about the restaurant, fear replacing happiness in a shutter-click. "Someone might hear!"
"Kath," said Ben patiently. "Look around, what do you see? Three school kids and one guy old enough to have been Moses' father. What are you so afraid of?"
For a minute Kath just sat there and looked at him and Ben worried he might have offended her. Then she spoke.
"He hits me, you know."
Ben rocked back on his seat, his face blown wide open, all gaping eyes and wide-mouth.
"Neil?" he said, and it sounded like someone else was saying it for him, using him as a puppet. "Neil hits you?"
Kath nodded her head, her eyes filling with tears.
"Fucking cocksucker!" said Ben, thumping the table. "Come on," he said, grabbing her hand and a handful of napkins. "That miserable bastard!"
"Where are we going?" said Kath.
"We're leaving. This is no place to talk about this."
"Ben, I have to go back to work."
"Fine," he said, handing her the napkins. "We'll walk and talk."
"How long has this been going on?" said Ben as they walked back up along the Summerland Way, Casino's lifeblood and only attachment to the outside world.
"I don't know," said Kath. "I guess, since, well, since we've been married."
"How long's that?" said Ben. "Two years? Three?"
"Closer to three," admitted Kath. "It's only been the last few months he's gotten worse though. He's starting to scare me, Ben."
"Almost three years," mused Ben. "Almost three years he's been going the knuckle on you."
The thought of it practically made Ben's skin burn. That someone should even dare raise a hand to this beautiful, sensual young woman. How could the bastard even sleep at night? Ben was of half a mind to go to Neil's work and beat the living crap out of him.
"Why do you stay with him?" Ben said, staring intently at her. "Why put up with it?"
"Because I love him," said Kath. "And he loves me, he just has some trouble showing it."
"So he shows it with his fists," said Ben.
"It's not like that. He's good most of the time. When he's not—" she stopped.
"When he's not what?" said Ben. "When he's not laying into you? When he's not drinking? How many times have you had to call the police, Kath?"
"What?"
"How many times has he gotten so out of control or you've gotten so scared that you had to call the police on him?"
"I never have," said Kath.
She probably hadn't, thought Ben. But was that because she didn't need to, or because Neil wouldn't let her?
"You know, Kath" said Ben. "If you've ever had to call the police on your own husband, I think you need to take a good, long look at your marriage."
"At least he didn't run out on me," said Kath and stormed off ahead of him.
Oh shit, thought Ben, feeling at once a crippling sense of guilt and an exhilarating surge of desire. She really did love him, now he hoped it wasn't too late to make it up to her.
"Kath," he jogged after her. "Kath, wait, please."
She stopped, not looking back, but at least she had stopped.
"Kath," he took her arm. "I'm sorry, okay? I am so sorry. If there's one thing I'll regret until th
e day I die, it's leaving you. It's just that everything was so fucked up, my parents, the HSC... Kath, please, I... I'm sorry. What more can I say?"
Kath turned. "Don't," she said. "We were so young then, so immature. It's probably partly my fault too. When you really needed me, needed me to be strong, I wasn't there. I was off with Neil, trying to make you jealous. He was so sweet and nice at first, nothing like what I expected. He seemed so wonderful," she paused, dwelling on the good times with Mr Wonderful, and Ben felt a feverish pang of jealousy. "And then we got married," Kath went on. "And it was like all his niceness had just been a mask."
"I'm sorry," said Ben, he stepped forward and hugged her. "I am so sorry. I never would have gone away if I'd known..." Ben liked hugging her, it made it easier to tell her his feelings when he wasn't able to see her face. "I only left because I couldn't bear seeing you with him."
He heard Kath sob against his shoulder. "All you had to do to get me back was ask."
Ben's head was spinning when he left her at the front of her building. If someone had asked, he wouldn't have been able to even tell them what day it was. Or possibly even his own name.
"Where do we go now?" he'd asked her.
"I don't know," Kath said, her eyes red and cheeks puffy but still as sexy as ever. "I don't know if I'm ready to leave Neil," she'd said quickly, before he even had a chance to suggest it.
"I don't know that I have any right to ask you to do that." That was what he'd said, but now, walking back to the Motel, it ate at him. Why the hell wouldn't she want to divorce Neil? Was it to further spite Ben? Did she want to show him she wasn't ready to forgive him yet? Maybe she didn't want him back.
"What do I have to do, Kath?" he'd asked. "What can I do?"
"Prove it," she'd told him, leaning forward and giving him a peck on the nose. "You have to prove you love me. Show me you're worth it."
That tiny little thing, her kissing him on the nose like that, in the middle of the street, in broad daylight, showed how much she did still love him. That she would take a risk like that.
And now all he had to do was prove that he was worth it. Easier said than done. How did you show someone you were worthy of their love? Especially when that someone was married.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN