Beautiful Monster (8 page)

Annelise was a clothes collector in the days before Brodie; shopping was her favourite hobby. And she had exceptional taste. She was able to see potential in clothes that had no hanger appeal whatsoever. People always commented on her style, her elegance, and she'd never throw anything away. She'd fold pieces into tissue paper and store them in plastic boxes. Not being a slave to fashion, she would wear anything she owned anytime she liked. The plastic boxes lined a whole wall in their garage now, never opened, coated in a light film of dust. Boxes and boxes of beautiful clothes.

When Tess had mentioned the dance, she thought she saw a flicker of life in her mother's eyes. Of what, she wasn't sure—excitement? Nostalgia? Regret?

‘Go through the boxes, Tess,' her mother said, waving her hand towards the garage. ‘Pick anything you like.'

Tess almost asked her to come with her, help her find something. But she didn't want to push her mother, and anyway she was frightened nothing would fit her. She didn't want to embarrass herself in front of her mother too. Her mum has always been a small woman and Tess wonders if it's even worth the effort. Would she be able to fit into her clothes? But if she can't find anything here, then she'll have to go shopping. All those mirrors—all those angles. It makes her shudder.

She pulls down a box marked evening wear. She lifts the tissue paper and pulls out the first dress, a red strapless number. She remembers her mother wearing it to her cousin's wedding. How glamorous she looked that night in red, with matching lipstick and a wide-brimmed black hat. ‘Like Audrey Hepburn,' her dad had commented, twirling her around. The night hit its high point when the bride and groom had gone to cut the cake. Knife poised and wearing their best photo album smiles, they'd been upstaged when Brodie darted forward. Seizing the moment, he took a huge bite out of the bottom tier of the cake. The bride had gasped in horror, but Tess remembers her mother laughing loudly, her eyes twinkling with delight. And her dad, camera always at the ready, had captured Brodie, his face and the front of his tuxedo covered in white cream.

She puts the red dress carefully to one side. Underneath it is a dark green backless dress. The satin shimmers under the garage lights. It's almost the exact colour of Tess's eyes, her mum's eyes. She imagines how beautiful her mum looked in it. Tess picks up a long, white faux-fur coat and carries the clothes back to her room.

She slips on the dress, and the shiny fabric clings to her legs. She pulls up the small zipper and looks at herself in the mirror. It does fit. She hopes it's not too tight. She turns slowly and looks at her back, which is completely exposed, right to the top of her G-string. She grabs the coat and puts it on. That's better: it hides most of her body and immediately Tess relaxes. As long as she has the coat on, she'll be comfortable and warm; maybe she won't need to take it off at all.

She walks into the lounge room. Her mum sits in her reading chair, staring distantly into space, a novel apexed in her lap.

‘What do you think, Mum?' Tess asks gently.

Her mother shifts her gaze to Tess. ‘Oh, that's beautiful, love,' she says. ‘Two of my favourites. Take the coat off. Show me the dress.'

Tess shakes her head. ‘It's a bit cool in here.' She notices her mother is wearing short sleeves. ‘And my makeup and hair aren't done. You'll have to wait for the night.'

The days pass and as the dance draws nearer Tess feels the excitement infect her. It's all anyone talks about, the rest of Year 10 envious of the chosen few.

Sharla is organising their group of girls to go to the beautician and hairdresser. They are starting the beauty regime at nine that morning—to be ready for the pre-dance party at six.

‘Imagine what you'll be like when you get married,' Tess says as they sit in front of the mirrors at the beautician's. She is enjoying being part of this group again. ‘You'll have to start getting ready the day before.'

Sharla laughs. ‘Yeah, but if I had you as my bridesmaid I'd have to book in a week earlier.'

She laughs again and Tess joins in, though she's not really sure what Sharla means.

The beautician attaches false eyelashes and the girls gasp at the immediate transformation.

‘I'm keeping mine forever,' Julie says, fluttering them madly like butterfly wings.

‘The only part of your body that can never be too fat is your eyelashes,' Tess says, looking at how wide they've made her eyes look. The other girls stare at her.

‘It's not like you've got anything to worry about,' Julie says. ‘You're so thin.'

Tess frowns at her. ‘No, I'm not. You are. You all are.' She's the fattest girl in the room.

‘You can't be serious.' Julie leans closer. ‘You're skinny. Too skinny. If you don't think so, then maybe you've got a problem.'

‘You look like you're getting thinner, too,' Maddie says.

‘A lot of us think so,' Chloe finishes.

Tess suddenly feels threatened, ganged up and picked on. She automatically pulls her hands up into her sleeves. ‘Trust me, if you saw this body without clothes on you wouldn't think that.' How can any of them say that to her?

‘Back off, guys,' Sharla says. ‘This is about fun. Come on.'

They go to their separate houses to get dressed. Jordan is coming to pick her up and then they are meeting at Julie's. The Hummer will take the twelve of them to the city from there.

Tess slips off her clothes and stares at herself in the mirror, not recognising the face that looks back. With the makeup, her eyes look so different. They glitter, a deep green. She smiles but then worries her teeth look too big. The hairdresser has put half her hair up in little jewel clips and curled the rest. It's long and hangs below her shoulders, and in the bathroom light its deep colour reflects red highlights. She looks at the hair above her temples, concerned again. The hairdresser had casually observed that her hair was slightly thin there and had pinned curls to cover it. Tess worries she might be going bald and peers at the two spots. She's satisfied she can't see her scalp but not convinced with the hairdresser's explanation about hormones and stress-related moulting.

She pulls her dress on, slips her feet into high heels and assesses herself again. The girls today thought she was fat. Sometimes, when she's with Ned he'll whisper in her ear, ‘See, Tess—you're the thinnest girl in the room.' It always makes her feel good—superior, even. She can be something she knows everyone else wants to be. But when she's not—he also points that out. ‘Now, that girl is thinner than you.' He reminds her of the enchanted mirror from Snow White, and he crushes her so easily. Thinking about him now makes her nervous. She's worried he might turn up just to spoil her night, to prove to her that he is still around, watching. But her rational self knows he won't. Ned wouldn't be caught dead near something like this.

She tries to remember to breathe. She doesn't want to let the anxiety get to her.

A car pulls up in her driveway. Jordan's dad. She sprays herself with perfume, pulls on the long white coat and gives herself another quick assessment. The coat is great and hides her well. Her diamanté earrings shine. She smiles and flicks off the light. In the lounge room her mother is, as usual, in her reading chair. But she looks up as Tess walks in. ‘Oh baby, you look beautiful,' she says, getting out of her chair.

Her dad is opening the front door. Jordan stands there clutching a corsage. He shakes her father's hand.

‘Come in,' her dad says.

Jordan smiles at her. ‘Tess, you look beautiful.'

And for a moment, she feels it.

Her heart beats faster. Someone, other than Ned, appreciates her—maybe she isn't so bad after all.

Her father makes them stand in front of the mantelpiece to take a string of photos. ‘Take the coat off, Tess, so we can see the whole dress,' her mum says. But Tess looks at the clock.

‘Mum, we've gotta get going. The car will be at Julie's, and Jordan's dad is waiting.'

‘I'll make sure we have some photos at the dance,' Jordan promises.

Julie's parents allow them a couple of drinks as they pose for photos. The girls admire each other's dresses; the boys stand together in their suits, trying to drink as much as they can before the dance. Tess pulls her hands up inside the coat. It's so cold in here. Don't Julie's parents have heating?

When they load into the Hummer and head for town, Tess sits next to Jordan, feeling a tiny bit heady from the champagne. She couldn't eat a thing today, for fear of not being able to zip up the dress. And now all she can think about is food. She tries not to think. Everyone is talking loudly. Chloe and Brian sit next to Maddie and Jake. She looks across at Sharla, who smiles back, her hand lightly resting on Tim's leg. It's hot in the Hummer. She hopes she's not sweating.

Jordan helps her out and holds her hand as they walk in. The staff greet them, commenting on how beautiful the girls look, how smart the boys are. It's warm in the ballroom too. And there is a cloak check.

‘I'll take your coat,' Jordan says.

Tess holds on to the cuffs tightly with her fingers. Her coat. She feels like she is being stripped bare, exposed and naked in front of the school. But around her all the girls are shrugging out of their wraps and coats. She slides hers off her shoulders. ‘Thanks,' she says and sees the look of surprise in his eyes.
Oh God, he thinks I'm fat,
the voice in her head whispers. Now she feels cold, but Jordan has checked her coat and walked back. He places a hand on her back. She's sure he's feeling her fat rolls.

‘We're over there,' he says, leading her to their table.

She feels all eyes on her. Why are they staring? Gawping at her like she's some freak.
Some fat freak,
that voice whispers.
You've done it now, Tess, shown them all your full glory.

She sits at the table, talking to some of the other girls, but she can't concentrate. They are ripping open the white bread rolls. She smells the dough in the air. Little foil packets of butter are being opened. She watches pieces of white and yellow go up to mouths. Empty carbs and pure fat. Hands wave, crumbs scatter. Talk and laughter. Tess salivates. Greasy trails on shiny lips. Her bread roll remains untouched.

‘Tess, this is yours.' Jordan points to her roll.

‘No thanks,' she says, smiling weakly. ‘I don't like white bread. You have it.'

‘You have to eat something.' He looks concerned.

‘I will.' She tries to laugh. Why does he want her to get fatter? Would he still like her then? ‘I'm waiting for the meal.'

But of course when the pumpkin soup comes, she decides it's been made with chicken stock. She explains this to Jordan; as a vegetarian she just can't eat anything that comes from animals. Is he aware of the way they kill chickens? She regrets that comment when the main dish—stuffed chicken—is served and she watches him unable to enjoy the dish. She also has to explain to him that her vegetarian meal is too salty and so she can't eat it. Finally, after dessert—a chocolate mousse, of which she allows a teaspoon to pass her lips—the meal is over. Thankfully, the torture has ended. She pushes her chair back to go to the toilets.

She's sure she hears whispers when she walks past the tables. Girls commenting on how fat she looks. She should never have worn her mother's dress. Of course, it's too small. Her mum is tiny. Not some big, bovine creature like her.

She looks at herself in the mirror. Her makeup is still flawless. She applies lip gloss, checks her teeth for food.
What food?
The voice in her head is approving:
You did good—ate nothing.

‘Maybe thirty calories,' she says aloud and is startled to see Sharla behind her.

‘Beautiful dress,' Sharla says.

‘Yeah, it's my mum's.' Tess feels awkward.

‘Have you seen the back?' Sharla asks.

Tess shakes her head. Her arse is nothing to be proud of.

‘You're so thin, Tess. I never realised until tonight.' Sharla puts her hand on Tess's spine. ‘Your bones are sticking out.'

Tess frowns and stares at Sharla—why is she lying to her? ‘No, they're not.'

‘Look.' Sharla turns her sideways. ‘See? They're your bones.'

She sees a white back, intersected by bony lines, which slowly she realises are ribs. Her ribs. Vertebrae stick out. It looks like a fish spine. It's all angles and hollows. Bumps. Dips. Gaps. That's not her back.

‘Tess, have you got a problem?' Sharla says gently.

Tess shakes her head. That couldn't be her back. Her back does not look like that. She turns to the mirror again. No, it doesn't look like that at all now. It's flat and smooth, and near her thick waistline she sees a roll of fat. Her large, soft, white back. She shudders in disgust. There are no hollows, no bumps—that was just a trick of the light.

‘No, I don't. I'm fine.'

Tess stares blankly at the monitor. The colourful bubbles bounce across the screen; her hand sits limply next to the mouse. Is it possible for her brain to ache? Like her abs do after a hard workout at the gym? E=mc2. What does it mean? Energy equals mass times the speed of light squared. What does the speed of light have to do with anything? She doesn't understand it. The whole concept of physics eludes her. Why has she persevered with it for two years? She must be crazy—typically, unable to accept defeat. Determined to prove she can do anything.

‘Always think you can be the best.' The sound of his voice jolts her. She looks around fearfully. Of course, there's no one there. She's alone—as usual.

Ned.

It's been so long since she thought of him. Not since she got out of hospital and trained her brain to forget him. Forget the hurt. His betrayal.

She shudders violently, terrified by the memories that threaten to overwhelm her. She can't go back to that place—the darkness she clawed her way out of. She gets up quickly from her desk. Studying for such long hours is bad for her. She needs a break.

Outside her mother is planting petunias, a wide straw hat sheltering her face.

‘Hi,' Tess calls. Her mum looks up, startled from her own thoughts.

‘Finished?' Annelise says, brushing soil from her hands.

‘No, feels like it will never finish.' Tess tries to sound lighter than she feels. ‘Just need a break. Going for a jog.'

She whistles Nero, who bounds towards her, and waves to Mrs Olsen as she passes through the gate.

Around the lake she keeps a steady pace; she is over those days of crazed exercising. Now she does it for enjoyment, relaxation and to stay fit. But not thin—she still occasionally has to remind herself. She jogs slowly, feels her muscles begin to warm. Thinking about Ned has really shaken her confidence. She thought she was so far past him. Over the last two years she's considered him dead. He was, after all, the one who abandoned her. Left her to deal with it all by herself. But now it feels like something bad is about to happen. She can't ignore it. She's convinced he's come back, for her.

She feels chilled, even though winter is almost over and the bite has gone out of the weather. She notices her hands are shaking. Her fingernails are blue.

She returns home to find her mother has prepared dinner. Tess sniffs the air: refried beans. She's made tacos—at least it's an effort. There's a note on the counter:

Tess folds the note in half and walks to the bathroom. Dad's managed to get Mum to go out again, she thinks, as she twists the bath taps. That's twice in as many weeks. Baby steps, her dad would say; slow and steady wins the race.

The heat from the bath mists up the mirror. Tess lights the lavender candles and strips her clothes off as the bath slowly fills.

She sticks a frozen toe into the water. Too hot. Turning on the cold tap, she sits on the edge of the bath and sees herself reflected in the fogged up mirror. She can't help standing up, reaching forward to wipe clear a space on the misted surface. She thinks about the calories she had to stop counting two years ago. She hasn't been paying much attention lately. Is it possible? Could she actually be fat?

She shakes her head, stops the scrutiny and slides into the water. The warmth seeps into her still-frozen bones. Slowly she feels herself relax. The workload is heavy, but she can handle it, she always has. Even when, at the hospital school, they'd tried to discourage her from choosing six TEE subjects, she'd refused to give in. No—that was her goal now and she'd do it. And her determination is paying off. Her mock exams are coming up and then, in a few more weeks, the finals. A university offer—for law—is the plan and a new phase of her life, a better one, will begin. This has been her focus, the thing that has kept her going these last two years.

She closes her eyes against the steam and the heat. Memories of hospital. Powerless to stop them. Why? Why now? Sweat drips down her face; beneath her eyelids hot tears form. She doesn't want to revisit that time.
Don't do it, Tess,
she warns herself.

She's scared.

Warmth seduces her. Her eyes feel heavy, heat suffuses her cheeks and she drops her dog-eared copy of
Wuthering Heights
to the tiled floor. Sinking lower into the bath, she allows the water to ring her fine white neck. Stretches her toes upwards through the surface. She drifts. Imagines the literature exam paper and hopes it includes questions similar to those on the papers she's literally dissected. She thinks of Catherine and Heathcliff.

‘Tess.' A whisper.

By now the water is cold and she feels frozen.

‘Tess?'

It can't be—but there's no mistaking his voice. Has she gone insane?

She opens her eyes. The candles have burned low and there's a chill in the air from the bathroom window she left slightly open. She shivers violently, the flesh on her arms prickling. She stands unsteadily and looks around.

Then in the mirror she sees him. He's slouching—like he always did—the same black fringe obscuring one eye. She gasps and picks up the towel from the floor, soaking the bottom of it in the bath water. Her body trembles; in her chest her heart is clattering.

‘Didn't mean to scare you,' he says softly, giving her a crooked grin, his one visible eye glittering.

‘Ned?' The wet towel is gluing itself to her legs. She feels like she might pass out. ‘Oh, my God.'

‘Long time, hey, Tess.' His smile looks sad.

She steps out of the bath, one hand against the wall for support, the other hugging the towel tightly to her body. She is shivering so hard, her legs feel like they might quit on her.

‘Don't be modest,' Ned says, pointing at the towel. ‘It's not like I haven't seen it all before.'

She is exposed and vulnerable. It crosses her mind that this might be a dream and soon she'll wake up. It's not like what's happening could be even remotely real. In all this time, he's never once tried to contact her.

‘Why are you here?' she whispers angrily. ‘You left me.'

He laughs—a sound so familiar, so real, that she has to question her dream theory. It sends a sharp electric current through her body, stirring up emotions that have lain dormant for years.

‘Silly,' he says teasingly, ‘did you really believe that?'

‘They told me.' She shakes her head, confused. What was real? This? Or that? She needs to get him out; danger emanates from him. But she's surprised by her desire to be with him—strong, like it used to be.

She walks towards the vanity—she needs something to hold on to. In the mirror, she watches him move forward too. She clutches the towel tightly. He's not changed a bit. Nothing. He looks exactly like he did when they were fifteen. Something else stirs within her. Something deep in her gut.

‘Why, then?' She blinks back tears. God, she's missed him. ‘Why did you wait so long? Why did you let me think you'd gone? Why have you come back now? Now, when I'm finally happy again?'

He's right behind her and she breathes him in—Ned, unchanged, after all these years. Sobs erupt from her body. He'd left her alone, to deal with it all on her own. She wants to hit his hard, bony chest. She wants to hurt him, like he hurt her. But he just stands there, soothing her, like he used to.

‘But you're not, are you, Tess?' His voice strokes her. ‘You're not really happy.' He points to the mirror. ‘It's not really you. None of this is. Where did you go?'

‘Where did I go?' she says, angrily watching his reflection. ‘Where did
you
go? I needed you, Ned.' She blinks through the tears, thinking of the days in hospital when she'd watched the door to her room for hours on end, waiting for it to be opened by him, the tightness in her gut and chest, feeling like she couldn't breathe. Waiting, waiting. And he never came once. ‘Not once,' she says, the anger bubbling up. ‘You never came. And I was all alone.'

‘They wouldn't let me in,' he says softly in her ear.

She presses her cheek against his voice.

‘I tried so hard, Tess. But they wouldn't let me come. It's taken all this time to get back to you.'

‘I missed you so much.' She weeps now, her anger and hatred evaporating.

‘They lied to you, Tess, telling you I'd gone. I was there the whole time. It was them who stopped us being together.'

She turns away from the mirror now, wanting to face him.

‘I told you I'd never leave you, Tess. But you didn't believe me.'

‘I'm so sorry,' she says, confused. How could she have doubted him? But why would her parents lie to her? And the doctors and nurses? Why did they say he was gone? The pain and grief they put her through. Wasn't it enough that she was sick? Why did they have to take away the only one who ever loved her?

‘Oh, Ned,' she says sadly. It feels too late.

She hears the front door open. Her parents. In the mirror he gives her that languid smile and puts a finger to his lips, slowly winking.

‘Tess?' her dad calls from the kitchen. She hears him lifting the lid off the cast-iron pot. ‘You in the bath?'

‘Coming,' she calls, her voice wavering.

She turns back to Ned. But he's gone. The net curtain flaps in the open window.

‘Mr Wilmott doesn't know what to do about Mr Barker down the road,' her mother relays to Tess as they sit around the table, watching Tess eat. ‘Apparently he loaned Mr Barker his whipper-snipper six months ago. But Mr Barker says he returned it straight after. Then yesterday he saw Mr Barker trimming his edges with a whipper-snipper exactly like his missing one. He accused him of lying. Mr Barker then beheaded his daisies. Mr Wilmott has taken out a restraining order against him.'

Tess watches her mother, trying hard to concentrate. She feels disconnected, as if she is watching herself respond and perform from a long way outside her body. Ned is all she can think about. Her mother speaks but she thinks of Ned, the things he said. The things he does. He has found her. After all this time. Come back to her. Ned Ned Ned Ned Ned...

‘You okay?' Annelise asks finally.

‘Yes.' She smiles, feeling guilty. Just thinking about Ned feels like a total betrayal of her parents' trust. ‘Sorry, I was thinking about the exams, as usual.' It amazes her, how easily the lie slips off her tongue.

‘You need to take more breaks,' her dad warns. ‘You can't overdo it, kitten.'

‘I know.' She gets up from the table. ‘It's okay Dad, it's all under control.' She doesn't like the way her dad is suddenly scrutinising her—like he knows something. ‘I need an early night, though; I've got to be at work first thing.'

‘Tell Gino you need a few Saturdays off,' her dad encourages, ‘until you're past the exams.'

Tess shakes her head. ‘No, work's good—it's like a break and it earns money. Don't stress, Dad, everything's cool.'

She lies awake in the dark, staring at the faint light outside her window. She listens to the sounds from the street, footsteps and the murmur of people talking. A woman's high squeal, some deep male laughter, the sound of a glass bottle rolling across the cobblestones, the clang of a rubbish bin lid. She can't sleep. Insomnia has returned. Her mind races—she tries to slow it, then to distract it.
Think of diploids and haploids,
she tells it.
Or chromosomal inheritance patterns, blue eyes, brown eyes, green eyes, Ned's eyes, Ned's presence.
She wants him back so much, but is scared.

He nearly killed her two years ago. She shakes her head angrily at the thought.
And what about the way he hurt you? Remember the anger and pain he put you through—when he discarded you without a backward glance? You didn't tell him any of that. As usual he gets away scot-free.
She feels the tears threaten, pushes back the covers and gets out of bed. She flicks on the bathroom light.
Even when he's not around, he still sends you crazy, Tess,
she warns her reflection.
He hasn't changed. He's bad news, dangerous.
She nods at herself.
You've got to send him away.