Little Bird (17 page)

‘Goodbye, Maisy,' I whispered.

I turned away and walked briskly back across the park.

‘Ruby-lee! Ruby-lee, wait!'

I couldn't bear to turn around. I just kept walking.

Later Ed and I sat in my backyard, eating doggy bag chocolate cake. There were paving stones piled up next to the shed and a big dirt pit where the lawn used to be, but the plum tree was in blossom and the air was fragrant.

‘What
was
the story with you and Spence?' Ed asked out of the blue. I was surprised he hadn't asked before.

I hugged my knees to my chest. ‘There's no story.'

‘But you liked him?'

I squinted at Ed in the afternoon sunlight. ‘Yeah. I did.'

‘And you still like him?'

I thought about it and then I said, ‘For a while, every time I saw Spence I had this dull ache, you know, like when you have a headache and you take painkillers and you're waiting for them to kick in. I knew it would go away, but it still hurt.'

‘And now?'

‘I guess it doesn't really hurt anymore.'

Ed and I were taking our own sweet time with our friendship. And I mean sweet. I liked that whatever this was between us, it was slow and unspoken. I just wanted to watch it unfold, to see what it would be.

‘This,' Ed drew a frame in the air around the tree. ‘Perfect. Exactly the kind of thing I missed in America. Someone else's spring doesn't mean the same as your own spring.'

‘I love that tree,' I agreed. ‘Don't they have plum trees in America?'

‘The tree, the rusty gate, the falling down fence.'

‘The gate?' I laughed.

‘I love a rusty gate!'

‘There were no rusty gates in America?'

‘Not that I saw. I was in a pretty ritzy area, everything looked shiny new.' Ed craned his neck. ‘Is that an empty lot out there? Wow, great place to make a fort.'

But I was looking at the gate, as if I was seeing it for the first time instead of the zillionth. That night, I finally wrote my haiku:

Child,s path overgrown
Bird sits on the rusty gate
A blossom swirls up

Two weeks later, a month before Shandra's wedding, a parcel turned up on our doorstep. It was my bridesmaid's dress, remember that? And it fitted perfectly.

20

The backyard had been transformed. Paper lanterns hung in the plum tree – they'd light up later when the sun set and the band began to play. Soft ferns crowded in one corner, behind the table where the register would be signed. One flower bed was bursting with bright colours: pansies, impatiens, sweet williams and pink, white and blue daisies. The other had been planted with young trees and small native shrubs. Stefan had paved a large area and even created a pond in an enormous cement pot lined with riverstones and reeds, complete with goldfish. There were smaller pots everywhere, spilling more flowers – tulips, jonquils, irises, geraniums and native violets. In fact most of Shandra's share of Dad's money had gone on the backyard. I wondered what Paula would think if she realised.

I peeked out the back door again. The rows of white chairs were all in place – Stefan, Dad, Damien's father and a few other blokes had set them out. It looked like . . . well, it looked like a proper place to get married. The sky was blue, and though there was a chill in the air, the sun shone down on everything, making it sparkle.

I slipped back into Shandra's room, closing the door behind me. Shandra was paranoid about Damien catching sight of her before the wedding; he'd already tried to sneak in once today for a bit of premarital smooching. I looked at the bare walls of her bedroom. Shandra's bedroom for one last day, anyway. Tonight her bedroom would be in the flat she and Damien were renting a few suburbs away, near Derwent College. If they stood on their toilet, they had river and mountain views. They'd be sleeping in a brand new bed, with brand new sheets – a wedding present from Damien's parents. Actually, considering the number of presents Damien and Shandra were raking in, I was starting to rethink my staunch policy on marriage.

‘How's it going out there?' Shandra asked.

‘Almost ready. People are arriving. Are you nervous?'

‘Are you freaking kidding me?'

‘I'll take that as a yes.'

Shandra stood up. ‘How do I look?'

There was a knock on Shandra's bedroom door. Shandra yelped and dived behind the wardrobe. I opened the door furtively and peered out.

‘Oh, it's you. Hi.'

Colette smiled shyly at me. I remembered what she was like the first day I babysat Maisy, how I'd first glimpsed the cracks in her brazen façade.

‘Hey,' she said. ‘The dress looks great on you.'

‘Thanks to you.'

‘Without you in it, it's just an empty dress on a hanger.'

We were being a bit too polite with each other. I guess we always had been – we'd never really been friends. The one thing we'd shared was Maisy, but never together, always apart, like the sun and the moon swapping places in the sky.

‘Is Shandra here?' Colette asked.

‘Nup. She's done a runner. Thank goodness you're here. Can you go and tell Damien the wedding's off?'

Colette's face fell, then split into a grin when Shandra called out, ‘No!' She leapt out of hiding. ‘Don't even joke about it, Ruby-lee.'

‘You'd better come in,' I said, closing the door behind Colette. Shandra's room was getting a little squashy.

Colette squealed when she saw Shandra. ‘Wow, you look amazing!' They hugged. ‘I can't believe it. Look at you!'

Shandra struck a pose. Her hair had been blowdried with big fat curls that tumbled over her shoulders. She had some chunky heels that used to be Nana's and a veil with a comb plunged into the top of her head, the soft fabric spilling down longer than her hair, almost as long as the dress. She had a face full of pearl blush and pink lipstick and blue eyeshadow, but somehow she still managed to look vaguely natural.

‘Bugger Brides on Bathurst,' Colette said. ‘You're sensational. Stand next to each other.' She pulled a camera out of her handbag and took a photo of the two of us. She looked pretty good herself, in a retro pink suit and flat black shoes. She'd told Shandra she'd run out of time to make a second dress, but I think she just felt weird about being a bridesmaid alongside me.

‘Damn,' said Shandra.

‘What?' Colette and I asked together.

‘I have to go to the toilet. Can you keep watch for my wayward groom?'

I escorted Shandra to the bathroom while Colette kept an eye on the back of the house. When Shandra was safely hidden away, I went back over to Colette.

‘Where's Maisy?' I asked, trying not to sound too eager.

‘Mum's bringing her later. I wanted to be able to watch the wedding in peace. She doesn't sit still for a minute.'

‘She's walking?'

Colette rolled her eyes. ‘She skipped walking and went straight to running. Little minx.'

My heart bloomed. I couldn't wait to see her.

‘Hey, I've been meaning to call or something. Thanks for the book.'

‘I wanted to get her something,' I said.

‘It's Maisy's absolute favourite. She brings it to me to read at least fifty times a day and she always says “Uh oh, wiw burr” on the right page.' We laughed, then lapsed into silence. Colette fiddled with her bag. ‘Ruby-lee, I . . .'

I flinched. ‘Please don't say anything. You were totally right. I was totally wrong.'

‘No, no you weren't. I shouldn't have yelled at you. I was awful to you. Maisy really was sick, and you'd done so much for us. So much for me.'

‘I didn't mean to hurt anyone.'

‘When I walked in . . . I thought the two of you were having an affair. That threw me, because I was sure I was totally over Spence.'

‘I thought I was in love with him,' I admitted. ‘And that he might fall in love with me. It sounds crazy now.'

Colette sighed. ‘Well, I can't talk, can I? It's not really crazy. Maybe he did sort of like you. Spence has this ability to see the gorgeous that most of us keep hidden, even from ourselves. It's one of his only redeeming qualities.'

‘Well, you'll be happy to know I've talked myself out of Spence.'

‘Good for you. But what I'm trying to say is it was misplaced rage. It was Spence I was really angry with, not you. Mum said I depended on you too much. She said that was misplaced too.'

‘I didn't mind.'

Colette shrugged. ‘Well, it wasn't right. Maisy's not your responsibility. She's mine. And Spence's.'

‘So is Spence paying child-support now?'

‘Yeah,' Colette said. ‘Mum went bananas when she realised that Spence wasn't paying any child-support. She made me go and see a lawyer, and we've had to do mediation, which has actually been good. We're really talking to each other, for the first time. He's going to be seeing more of Maisy, with me there at first, but eventually she'll stay the night at his house, and then we might work out some kind of regular arrangement for shared custody.'

‘How do you feel about that?'

Colette screwed up her face. ‘I have to admit it would be good if it worked out. And I totally need him to pay child-support. I can't look after Maisy, pay the bills and pay the rent on my own. I learnt that the hard way. But I hope he doesn't let her down. I don't quite trust him yet.'

‘I've really missed Maisy,' I said.

‘We've missed you too. So, friends?' Colette asked.

‘Of course.'

I hugged her, feeling her bones, her brittle frailty, her wiry strength.

‘Oi! None of that,' Shandra said, stepping out of the bathroom. ‘This is
my
day, remember? The only tears shed today will be tears of joy – for me.'

21

Shandra got married in the afternoon sun.

Stefan gave her away and then sat down next to Mum, looking pleased as punch. Mum was already crying, even before the celebrant spoke. Shandra winked saucily at Damien when she arrived by his side, and he pinched her bum halfway through the service, which made his mum shriek with nervous laughter. William slept in Paula's arms, and she leaned her head on Dad's shoulders as Shandra and Damien exchanged their vows. At one point, I met Ed's eyes and had to look away or I might have cracked up. And then they were pronounced husband and wife and everyone clapped and wolf-whistled while the groom kissed the bride.

‘Okay, people,' the photographer called after the wedding. ‘Family shots.'

Paula hung back.

‘Come on,' Shandra insisted. ‘You're family.'

So Paula stepped in beside Mum and Dad. After the photos she whispered in my ear, ‘I'm busting for a wee. Can you hold Will?'

So I gathered him up, and he was sleepy and lovely. Ed and Colette and the rest of the band were setting up, positioning speakers and instruments, unfolding music stands, unravelling long extension cords and locating power points. When Paula returned, I passed Will back to her and we both clucked over him for a moment until Ed asked me to fetch a microphone from his car.

I walked out the front, found the microphone and took a breath, a brief moment away from the wild excitement of the party. A little pink-frocked blob whizzed round the corner. It was Maisy. She toddled along the street on her fat wobbly legs, gathering momentum as if she couldn't stop. I held my arms out and she ran to me. I caught her up, swung her around and then clung to her, half laughing, half crying, as Colette's mum rushed towards us.

‘She's growing up so fast,' Colette's mum gasped when she caught up.

I carried Maisy into the party and gave Colette the mike. She leaned over and took it, giving Maisy a big smacking kiss. I held Maisy facing outwards, waiting for the band to finish their sound check and begin playing.

‘Hi everyone. My name is Colette Kane, and we are' – she glanced back at Ed – ‘The Rusty Gates.'