Lingerie For Felons (20 page)

‘We-ell, I'm not exactly sure if it's paper or plastic. I don't go in with him. But yeah, he definitely has to produce the goods. Into a cup. Poor guy, he was so nervous about it the first time I made him practice.' She sounded matter of fact.

‘No!' I slapped her arm. I knew this was really important to Heidi, but even for her, making Steve practice masturbation was taking being organized to a whole new extreme.

‘What do you mean? How does he practice? I thought guys learned to do it in the womb.'

‘Don't look at me like that, Lolly. I can tell you think I'm over-engineering this, but you know Steve. You know what a head-case he is. For sure, if we hadn't practiced he'd have screwed it up. He'd have misfired and ended up in some hideous
Something About Mary
incident. You know it's true, Loll. Don't you remember the time he dated that French girl?'

My memory banks whirred and creaked painfully. Then bingo! ‘Oh my God, that's right!' I'd forgotten the incident until that moment.

‘He was so worried about impressing her, he had total performance anxiety, because he assumed she'd been with a whole lot of French guys who knew way more than him. So he made us draw him that vagina diagram.'

‘Yep,' Heidi confirmed. ‘And he was like, so astonished by what it revealed. It was like an epiphany. Saul on the Road to Damascus. Remember how he kept saying “so there are
three
holes?” like the news had just broken? And remember he kept scratching his head and asking us if the diagram was to scale?'

My God, she did a perfect impression of Steve.

‘That's right,' I recalled with glee. ‘We did that huge cartoon on the back of a shoebox and I remember thinking
I hope he doesn't think my vagina's that big
.
Ships'd get lost in it, like the Bermuda triangle.
' I paused for a moment, lost in thought, shaking my head in wonder. ‘Actually, come to think of it, it's kind of amazing you slept with him after realizing how clueless he was about the whole thing. You are like Mother Theresa.'

‘Not really,' she sighed. ‘We gave him pretty detailed instructions, remember? It took about three hours and four bottles of wine to talk him through the whole thing. As I recall. If he didn't know what to do after all that, there's no hope for any man.' Heidi was staring up into space. ‘In a way, it gave me confidence. You know, that he wouldn't completely screw it up. Actually,' she leaned forward and whispered. ‘Did I ever tell you I found that old vagina map cello-taped to the inside of his wardrobe only like two years ago? I think it had become his bible. Anyway, you know how keen he is to learn new tricks. I knew he'd make the most of the lesson.' I nodded in agreement. Heidi paused again for a moment, then continued, ‘Anyway, I couldn't afford any Steve screw-ups with this. This is our baby.'

‘So how did you do it?' I was
really
curious now.

‘Huh?' She was staring off into space, smiling.

‘How did you, you know, make him practice?'

‘We-ell, I tried to reproduce the conditions he would face in the clinic as precisely as possible at home. I needed to know he could do what he had to do even if he felt really awkward and uncomfortable. A bit like that torture, you know, where they wake you up all the time and shine bright lights on you and confuse you.'

Oh my God, poor Steve.

She went on. ‘So…I like, put the lights on really, really brightly in the bathroom. And I made my Mom come over and hand him the cup and the porn so he'd feel really awkward and embarrassed. I even told her to be extra scary as she did it. She did so well, man. She even told him she'd be waiting outside. “In case he needed any help.”' Heidi laughed at the memory, and continued. ‘And I made sure the porn was really old and dated, with really scary looking women in it. And lots of guys with big handle-bar moustaches.'

All I could do was stare at her in amazement. I really did choose my best friend well. This woman is incredible.

‘Heidi,' I declared, hugging her tightly. ‘You should run the U.N.'

She laughed and waved away the praise.

‘Well, technically, it's Steve who deserves the praise really. I mean, he came through like an absolute trooper. At home and in the clinic. The nurse said she'd never seen so much product. I was so proud.'

We both spent a moment reflecting on what a champion Steve was.

‘It's amazing,' I agreed. ‘I'm going to call him Super Sperm from now on.'

‘Good idea,' Heidi concurred. ‘He'll love that, Loll. But anyway, enough about our baby-making stuff. I want to hear about what happened yesterday. I thought you were trying to stay out of trouble since…you know…'

Oh God, this was always the problem. Where to start? I remember Mom telling me when I was at school that every story had a beginning, a middle and an end. But most things have pretty elastic beginnings, in my experience.

I toyed with my little sugar sachet.

I wanted to get this right, and I wasn't in a hurry, for once. It was so nice to have a quiet moment in my crazy life. And it was extra nice being here, in this café, where Heidi and I have shared so many of these moments. Che's is at the bottom of the building in which Heidi, Steve and I shared our apartment, and where they still live, so we've been briefing and bitching here for years.

I sighed. ‘Oh, Heidi, you know how it is. There are so many bad things in the world. I know I shouldn't even go there half the time because I'm just going to get upset. But it's like picking a scab Or...squeezing a pimple. It's seductive. You know it's going to be all bad, but you just can't help but dig your spiky nails right in. I know I should just learn to stay away from bad news. Sometimes my heart just gets so full of it I feel numb. Powerless.'

Heidi nodded and took my hand.

‘And sometimes,' I went on. ‘Sometimes I hear about something, or read something, or find out about something…'

‘Yeah?' she encouraged.

‘And I just feel the total opposite of apathetic. The opposite of powerless. I want to rip someone limb from limb.'

‘Is that what happened this time?' Her lovely blue eyes were all soft.

‘Yeah,' I confirmed. ‘I didn't get to do any limb ripping, but…'

‘But you did get arrested,' she finished. ‘Again.'

‘Yeah,' I sighed. ‘Third time unlucky. I didn't break anything, in the end. To tell you the truth, I'm not sure I'd actually have it in me.'

Heidi nodded. ‘You were always kind of a wuss. Remember that girl, back at school? Tanya Bricker?' It was my turn to nod, and shudder.

‘Yeah,' I agreed. ‘I can't really remember how it started.'

Heidi laughed. ‘Oh, I do,' she said. ‘She was pushing around Jane Zwiecki, remember? That shy girl? And you said something to her about how bizarre it was that someone with such a thick neck could have such a small brain.'

The memory still hurt too much to laugh, but I smiled. ‘I wasn't just making it up to be funny. She really did have an extraordinarily wide neck.'

‘Yeah,' Heidi nodded. ‘She did. Anyway, it was never going to go well. When she belted you across the head with her school bag, I thought you'd been beheaded.'

‘That was because she had a can of mega-hold hairspray in the thing.'

We both sighed. ‘Thank God for Emmy,' I said. ‘Once Tanya Bricker found out I was related to Emmy,, she even offered to make my dress for homecoming. Go figure.' I stirred my coffee. ‘Anyway, so, see? I'm no kind of hero. But you know what? I'm still really proud that we broke into that hideous factory, even if it was a complete disaster.'

What I really wanted was to tell Heidi how I was feeling. These arrests seem engineered to send me into a spiral of self-reflection I just really didn't need. My life was complicated enough without having to think about it. I usually managed a pretty good line in denial and avoidance. And that was just fine. And then I would get arrested and somehow I'd be pushed into all this ‘thinking about my life' crap. Where am I up to? Where is it going? And the answer right now is ‘nowhere fast'.

Heidi took my hand. ‘Are you really worried, Loll?'

I chose to ignore that question for the moment, along with the whole scary array of possibilities it opened up. ‘Oh hey, get this. They called me “The Ringleader”. Isn't that great? Well, you know, it's probably not going to go down so well at my hearing, but still…'

‘Wow,' Heidi confirmed, shaking her head and scowling at me. ‘Finally. Recognition of your greatness. Snaps to you. How did it go down? How come you were the only one they got?' She was scrunching her face up, trying to visualize the scene.

‘We had enough time to get away,' I started. ‘But I needed to stay a little longer.' I rubbed the big, purple bruise on my arm where the big man had grabbed me, and told her about the workers. ‘I needed to buy them some extra time.'

She sighed. ‘Why, Lola?'

‘Well,' I said. ‘It was our fault. The cops wouldn't have even been there if not for us. And the supervisors couldn't have cared less. I had to make sure they got out—'

I broke off suddenly because Heidi had developed this really stricken look on her face. And somehow I knew it wasn't just about my story. She was looking slightly over my shoulder and to the left, with her mouth open. I had what they used to call a ‘presentiment of doom'.

I didn't want to look. ‘Okay, Heids,' I said through gritted teeth. ‘Just tell me. Don't make me look.' I was imagining several possibilities.

One: my brother and Dick wielding swatches of fabric and talking about table settings and whether releasing doves was too cheesy — as if you should have to ask. If there is anything weirder then a gay military wedding, I swear I do not know what it is.

Two: my sister. She called earlier to invite me to a post-court dinner party tomorrow night. I'm sure she has her own news. The woman is a shameless up-stager.

Three: my parents. They were even more nuts than usual lately. Mom had taken to these long grandma naps in the afternoon, and calling about the weirdest things.

And anyway, it's not that any one of those possibilities was necessarily so horrible, but I just really selfishly wanted this time with Heidi. I only had an hour or so before I was back on duty, and I felt possessive of this short window to debrief with her.

Even if she was being unhelpfully sarcastic.

‘It's Wayne,' she whispered. ‘I swear to God that is Wayne walking down the street towards us.'

Oh, no. What the hell was this?

Was this guy destined to show up only when I'd been arrested? Do I subconsciously activate some kind of invisible distress signal, like the bat beacon thingy, unbeknown to myself, at times of danger or crisis? And what the hell good is he anyway? He always makes things worse, with his stupid kissing and his great big hairy hands and his —

‘Oh my God. Rocket.' He sounded genuinely surprised.

I could see Heidi was about to go into a whole obsequious wow-Wayne-fancy-this-how-amazing-to-see-you routine and I wasn't having it.

‘Don't “Oh my God. Rocket” me.'

I knew there was no way he'd been accidentally walking down the street where I used to live, past the café where we'd had God knows how many coffees, and spent God knows how many hung-over Sunday mornings lazing around.

Don't try to pull some gee-is-that-you crap with me, Wayne. I know you too well.

‘What are you doing here?'

‘Ah, lovely to see you too, Rocket. Glad time hasn't dulled your sweet nature.'

Wow, his accent was still so broad, like he'd been living in the outback for the last five years. He sounded kind of annoyed, but he was still grinning that impossible grin. And he looked good, damn him. He was wearing these really cool sweat pants and a grey, worn-looking t-shirt. And he was leaner than I remembered, but still huge. And he had more than a hint of grey in his hair. I guessed he was 36 now. It suited him, of course. I realized with a horrible jolt of self-disgust that I really want to see him do something badly.

Anything.

Cook. Sing. Age.

I had some grey too, of course. You don't keep blacker-than-black hair beyond your thirtieth birthday. But I was determined the world would never know about it. Don't even get me started on how unfair it is that men are actually allowed to show normal signs of ageing, and women have to pretend to be suspended in some cryogenic bubble in which our hair, features and bodies are preserved at the exact instant of hitting puberty. I don't even know
any
sixty-year-old women with grey hair in New York City. It seems acceptable to let a few sneak through after seventy but before that, it's simply a sign you've given up on yourself and might as well grab your shopping bag and go sleep under a bridge.

‘And Heidi. My God, you look amazing, sweetheart. It's so good to see you!'

I put a restraining arm across Heidi. I was absolutely not letting her hug him. He belonged to her past. My past. Our past. You know what I mean. She looked a bit annoyed with me. Too bad. My ex-boyfriend. I get to choose how palsy we are with him.

‘Yeah, yeah, all right. Leave her alone. What are you doing here?'

Maybe he didn't hear me the first time.

‘Just jogging past?' He looked hopeful, like I might believe him. But he quickly saw from my face that it was a vain hope. ‘Okay, no. You're right. I heard about yesterday.'

I made an unintelligible squeaking noise in the back of my throat. ‘My parents. I am definitely going to kill them this time. They promised me.'

He was quick to their defense. ‘No, no, Rocket. Settle down, love. It wasn't them.'

I start doing a mental inventory of friends and family. Clearly Heidi had been very surprised, so not her. Steve? Emmy? Vera? It could have been Vera. I looked at Wayne and I could tell he was getting worried.