Our Magic Hour (32 page)

The taxi stopped on Oxford Street. On the footpath, Frank and Pip linked arms and
sauntered off. Julian reached for Audrey's hand.

‘You're freezing!' he said, and blew on her fingers.

They went into a warm cave. The throbbing of the bass matched
Audrey's heartbeat.
Julian was in a generous mood. He handed her a shot of something honey-coloured.
‘Here, this'll warm you up.'

She followed Pip to the bathroom, where girls leaned against the white-tiled walls.
Pip squeezed between the bare shoulders in front of the mirror and dusted gold powder
across her nose. Audrey leaned against the closed door of a cubicle and watched a
pair of girls crouched on the f loor as they extracted four white pills from a crumpled
sheet of foil. One of them turned up her smooth face to the fluorescent light.

‘Hot dress, babe,' she said to Audrey.

‘Thanks,' Audrey said, laughing, ‘babe.' She couldn't remember the last time she'd
been in a place like this. She would have been seventeen, eighteen, still in school.
She'd never liked the closeness of bodies, the boring, panicky thud of the music
they played, the speed Adam had snorted cheerfully by the door. When he'd come up
to visit he'd said
Let's get some drugs
, half-joking, but Claire found some pills.
The three of them had sat on her living room floor, talking while they waited. It
took a long time before Audrey felt anything.

‘Are you in love with everyone?' Adam had asked.

‘I'm not where you are,' Audrey said.

Claire stretched out on the floorboards. ‘I am,' she'd said. ‘I'm in love with both
of you.'

Audrey sat back when it came, coldness in the arms, light and colour in her eyes.
Adam started one of his stories: ‘This one time a bunch of us went down to Blairgowrie
for the long weekend and we had a party, and everyone got pretty fucked up. Audrey
finished up spewing into the bathtub, and Katy and I were doing that sort of powerless
laughing, where there's nothing you can do anyway, and after a while Audrey straightens
up, wipes her face and goes, “I'm going to go and think about what I've done,” like
she was giving herself a time-out.'

‘The Naughtiest Girl Does a Vomit in the Bath,'
Claire said.

Audrey had felt better the next day, sailing on a wave of euphoria as she drove her
friend back out to the airport. The stuff was still humming in her head.

The vibrations of the music echoed dully in the bathroom. The two girls with the
pills were gone. Audrey couldn't watch Pip look at her mouth in the mirror any longer.

Out in the darkness the floor was sticky. Audrey had another drink by herself. She
found Julian, and grabbed him by the wrists. ‘Let's dance.'

‘I don't dance. You don't, either.'

She dragged him into the thickness of bodies. He stood there and watched her spin.
He leaned in to her ear.

‘I feel like I'm watching a seizure.'

He was standing still while she danced, all staccato shoulders and jerky limbs.

‘You're so grumpy,' Audrey said. She didn't know if he could hear her. ‘You're so
nasty about everything.'

‘You don't care about anything,' Julian shouted over the music.

She reached up and kissed him to make him stop talking, hand behind his neck.

A shower of cheers from a nearby group. He took her hand and led her to a sofa in
the corner, away from the bodies. She leaned her head on his shoulder. He petted
her hair. She didn't care enough to move.

Pip reappeared and collapsed next to Audrey.

‘I lost you,' she said, breathless. ‘Let's go. I want some chips.'

Out on the wet pavement, they separated. Pip went home, and Audrey and Julian began
to walk slowly through Hyde Park. Audrey felt dazed.

‘I feel like I'll never get used to this city. I had no idea we were in Darlinghurst
till the cab stopped.'

They walked all the way to the harbour, to the grassy flat by
Circular Quay, and
sat by the water.

‘This is where you bring a tourist,' Julian said.

‘Your breath smells like whiskey,' Audrey said. Her ears were ringing.

‘Your hair smells like a gross bar.'

They were too tired to speak. Audrey lay back on the wet grass and sang the Paul
Kelly song about the bus between Melbourne and Sydney.

Julian groaned. ‘Stop it. I feel like I'm in some bad suburban microdrama.'

‘I sort of hate this view,' she said.

‘Don't look at it, then.'

He took off his jacket and put it around her shoulders, and she was surprised.

They got home just after six o'clock, clattering through the door and down the hall,
removing shoes and hissing
Sh
at each other. Audrey made some tea and two-minute
noodles. They ate greedily. She sat at the table. Julian stood and slurped over the
kitchen sink. Pip strolled out of the shower wearing a towel. She poured a cup of
coffee.

‘You fucking pig,' she snorted, watching him eat. Steam rose from her bare shoulders.

Julian shrugged. ‘Morning,' he said, and went on shovelling noodles into his mouth.

Audrey couldn't stand him.

She'd been planning to fall into bed, but it was almost light. She put on her shoes
again, and walked down to the beach. The air was still and cold. She saw the streetlamps
glow off, a flock of gulls; people out with their dogs, wrapped up in sensible hats,
waterproof jackets and walking shoes. Audrey was in Pip's black dress, safety-pinned
under the armpits, and a big coat. The middle-aged walkers
nodded greetings to one
another, and offered tentative
Good mornings
to Audrey.

The sun went up and over the sea. Audrey sat on the sand. She turned up the collar
of her coat to protect her ears from the wind.

The sky was grey and yellow. She was done.

She walked home with her hands deep in her coat pockets. At the corner of Beach and
Carr she ran into Frank, out on his morning jog.

‘I don't know why I thought this'd be a good idea. I'm going to spew,' he said. He
stopped running on the spot. ‘Are you all right?'

Audrey looked up at him. ‘I think I need to go home.'

‘Are you all right?' he said again.

‘I mean home to Melbourne.'

‘Well,' Frank said, and grinned. ‘What an epiphany!'

They stood there in the grey morning. At last he nodded. He gave her a quick, tight
hug. ‘I just plunged a coffee. Go home and get it before Pip does.'

Tombs For Better Times

There was an afternoon tea for her at work, thank-you and good-luck cards, drinks
at the Tavern afterwards. Audrey crossed the road to the station and thought it was
probably the last time she'd ever walk out of that hospital. The last time she'd
take the train out past Parramatta, maybe. The wine was warm in her arms.

It rained. Audrey and Julian went to a pub in Surry Hills, the Clock, sat on the
balcony looking down at the wet street. In the cab going home they kissed once. Audrey
leaned her head on his shoulder without expecting any tenderness, but he smoothed
her cheek, her hair.

It was just turning dark when they got home. Pip was goodhumoured. The three of
them pranced around the kitchen and told stories. Audrey mostly listened. Julian
and Pip were speaking about memories that did not include her, but not unkindly.
When they fell silent Pip said
What about when we went to the snow this year and
Audrey hooked up with that weird guy at LJ's?
Julian's face slid sideways, checking
on Audrey. She smiled to show him it was okay.

‘Remember,' Pip said to Julian, ‘you followed them back to his
room? Like the older
brother.'

Julian was still looking at Audrey. ‘You weren't well, mate,' he said.

‘I don't think I'd had that much to drink.'

‘That was just after you moved in,' Pip said. ‘I hardly knew you. You were so quiet.
I just remember looking up, and in the time it'd taken me to finish my drink, you'd
pulled the moves on that guy, and I went
She's more of a loose cannon than I thought
.'

Audrey laughed with them because it didn't matter any more, and maybe it was funny,
now.

Just before nine Claire turned up with Elliott in her arms.

‘I've got five hundred corsages to do for this debutante,' she said. ‘Please.'

Julian hoisted El over one shoulder and carried him upstairs. He looked back at Audrey.
He mouthed
Sorry.
She said
Don't be
, and she meant it. She helped Julian tuck him
into bed.

In the kitchen Pip was making hot toddies. Claire's face was wet.

‘I'm sorry. I don't know what's wrong with me. I'm just finding him really tough
at the minute. It's never been like this, and I know the timing's really bad, and
I'm sorry—'

‘Hey,' Julian said. ‘It's okay. This is the deal, it's always been the deal. You
call whenever you want.'

‘He's got money for the tuckshop tomorrow, he just needs you to help him add up the
order.'

‘We'll do it in the morning.'

Claire stood up. She pressed her hands to her cheeks. ‘I should go. I've got that
much to do. Thanks. Sorry for being so nuts.'

‘You okay to drive?'

‘I'm fine, Julian.'

They stood at the front door to wave her off.

‘It is actually a pain in the arse to take him tomorrow morning,'
Julian said to
the dark street. ‘Unless I drop him at seven-thirty. Is that legal?'

‘I can take him,' Audrey said. ‘Leave your car keys out.'

When she left Sydney Julian's beat-up motorcycle was still in the shed, untouched.
She said goodbye to him in the morning. He was going to work and in a rush. Afterwards
she went down to the baths. It was a cool morning. There were still tan lines on
her skin, but they were already fading. They belonged to a different season.

Claire drove her out to the airport in the evening. Pip came too, sat in the back
seat next to Elliott. They left the house hours early, went down to La Perouse for
fish and chips. Elliott sang along with the radio in his high, breathy voice. The
three women talked rapidly. They sat in the back of Claire's van to watch the sun
go down. There were no flowers, just corrugated flooring that dug into Audrey's bum
through the drop sheet.

‘What'll you do when you get back to Melbourne?' Pip asked.

‘I don't know yet. I feel as though I just left.' Audrey crumpled her paper napkin.
She watched Elliott poking holes in his potato cake.

‘You'll be fine,' Claire said.

Audrey nodded. ‘I know.'

They cheered for the sunset, huddled together, the four of them shouting
Good job!
and
Thank you!
and
You're getting even better!
, clapping and whistling. The toilet
block was already locked for the night. Audrey and Pip squatted in the long shadows
beside it to piss.

They shared a few glasses of overpriced wine at the airport. Claire and Pip hugged
her one by one. Audrey was surprised at how tender they were, how orphaned she felt.
Elliott flung his arms around her neck. Claire stood there with her lovely yellow
hair falling across her face, and then took Audrey in her arms again.

‘See ya, sweet pea,' she said in her ear. ‘El and I were thinking of
taking a trip
to Melbourne in winter, so we'll see you then.'

And then they left, waving and hooting out the doors. Audrey walked to the gate and
sat by the window. Already it was strange to be alone. The airport noise hummed and
hissed just loud enough to keep her from falling asleep.

The flight was delayed by one hour, two. Melbourne fog. She phoned Adam.
Don't leave
yet.
By the time she shuffled onto the plane, it was due to have landed at Tullamarine.

Flying in over Melbourne she saw the glowing grid of streets below. The bay was just
a black space. Adam was waiting in the terminal. She'd half-expected Minh to be there,
too, but Adam was alone. She was relieved to have him to herself. He took streets
she didn't recognise, past the shipping yards and factories under the bridge. He
said
So how was it all left with Julian in the end.
She didn't know what to say to
make it simple.

‘He can do that thing Nick does,' she said, ‘when he peels an orange.'

‘That's not what I meant,' Adam said, and they were laughing and the streetlight
was falling yellow across his face, and she wanted it to be the two of them in that
car forever.

She waited for Vanessa in a café near the office. She was glad for the neutral territory.
Something in her was scared of seeing all those people, her friends. She was afraid
that she could walk back into the building and nothing would have changed.

Vanessa hugged her, made a fuss of her hair. When she said
Tell me about Sydney
,
heaved her chair closer to the table, it was hard to know what to say.

‘I had really good supervision,' Audrey said. ‘I learned heaps. They seemed to have
a huge budget for professional development. I read lots of trauma theory.' She watched
Vanessa drop an artificial sweetener pill into her coffee. ‘We had a meeting and
they offered
to extend my contract. I think if I'd started in a clinical setting
like that, straight out of uni, I would have stuck with it.'

‘Why didn't you?'

‘The house I was living in—I was renting a room—they're going to sell it. I knew
my unpaid leave here was almost up.' It sounded foolish. Vanessa waited. ‘In paediatric
oncology, all you can really do is make everyone more comfortable,' Audrey said at
last.