The Better Woman (12 page)

University! Golden Girl is all grown up. A young woman now.

She didn't want him thinking of her as a grown-up. Being a child was better, offered some level of protection.

Jodi inhaled gulps of humid air and tried to erase Bob from her thoughts. She walked towards the bus stop, only a short distance from the house. Wearing bootleg jeans and a sleeveless T-shirt, she felt both excited and nervous, grown-up and naive. Never would she have to wear a school uniform again. Sick notes, end-of-term reports and parent-teacher meetings were all part of the past. In fact, tertiary education came with unnerving freedom.

Will I make friends at university? Will they be more worldly than my school friends? Will they be able to tell that my stepfather is in love with me?

Jodi reached the bus stop to see that her bus was already there and a long line of commuters were in the process of getting on. She was the last to board and had to stand, hanging onto the overhead railing, for the entire forty-minute journey to the city. The airconditioning wasn't working and her jeans felt heavy and uncomfortable.

Getting off in Wynyard, she walked briskly to Martin Place and then up to Castlereagh Street. This time she was luckier and got a seat on the 422 bus which, according to the timetable, would take fifteen minutes to reach the campus. When she was settled into a routine, she could run this part of the commute. It wasn't the same as running on the sand, but it would keep her fitness up. Next year she wanted to compete in the Ironwoman Series. She hoped that her schedule would allow some early marks, afternoons where she could get to the beach and do some serious training.

Jodi's degree doubled Economics and Commerce, an ideal qualification for the banking career she'd already decided on. She'd always liked going to the local bank with her mother. The environment was clean and efficient, the staff polite and respectful. Transparency ruled: deposits and withdrawals were always double-checked, and sometimes the paperwork had to go to another staff member for sign-off. It seemed that nothing untoward could ever happen in a bank. She really, really liked that idea.

Jodi's goal was to end the four-year degree with first-class honours. That goal was at the forefront of her mind as she walked towards the Faculty of Economics and Business, a building of faded brown brick on the corner of City Road. Once inside, the first thing she noticed was a large poster, in bright orange, advocating Marxism. Much less noticeable were the directions for the new students:
Orientation address in auditorium downstairs.

Jodi descended the dappled grey stairs. She paused when she reached the lower level. She spotted another inconspicuous poster and turned in the direction of its arrow.

The auditorium looked quite full. Jodi noticed some free seats towards the front. She had only just sat down when the address began.

‘Good morning all! I'm Professor Phelps, the dean of the Faculty of Economics and Business.' The man who spoke into the microphone looked extraordinarily young for his exalted position. His face was classically handsome with a strong sculpted jaw. His hair, dark, thick and wavy, had not a strand of grey.

The girl sitting next to Jodi leaned over to whisper, ‘Isn't he drop-dead gorgeous?'

Jodi nodded without taking her eyes off him.

‘On behalf of all my colleagues, I have great pleasure in welcoming you as a student of the faculty. Founded sixty-four years ago, the faculty has an outstanding reputation for excellence in teaching, learning and research.'

‘My name is Alison,' the girl whispered.

Jodi glanced her way. She saw a silver nose stud, purple hair and a friendly smile.

‘I'm Jodi.'

Professor Phelps spoke in a clipped voice that suggested he had lived in the UK for some part of his life. ‘The faculty is a part of an international learning community incorporating academics, students, corporate partners and governments. We equip our students educationally for a professionally rewarding and successful career in their chosen field, with many of our alumni holding senior positions in the business, professional and government communities within Australia and around the world.'

Jodi felt a wave of ambition as she listened to him speak. She
was very determined that she would be one of those who went on to hold a senior position; someone Professor Phelps would not forget.

It transpired that Alison was also doing a double degree and was in many of Jodi's classes. She would flash her friendly smile and move places to sit next to Jodi. Once class was finished, they would stroll to whatever venue was next on the schedule or grab a Coke from one of the many dispensers around the campus.

Alison lived in student digs in Ultimo.

‘You can stay over at my place any time you want,' she offered generously.

Shortly into the term, Jodi took her up on her offer.

‘I'm going to a social event at the university tonight,' she told Shirley, a spare set of clothes packed in her satchel along with her books. ‘I'm sleeping at Alison's.'

Jodi left the house feeling high at the thought of having a whole day away from Bob. She was still on a high that night as she knocked back countless shots of spirits that burned her throat and brought water to her eyes.

‘You Spin Me Round' blared over the speakers. Students flocked to the dance floor. Rather than join them, Jodi went to the bar to get another drink. On the way back, a boy she recognised from Political Science asked her to dance.

‘No, thanks. Two left feet.'

It wasn't a lie. She had no rhythm when it came to dancing.

‘Hey, you need to slow down,' Alison advised when she returned, her drink already half gone. ‘You won't last the distance if you drink too fast.'

Jodi, dismissing her advice, declared drunkenly, ‘You know, Alison, I've just discovered that I
love
alcohol …'

‘Well, that's becoming obvious.'

‘And I
love
being at university …' Jodi continued.

‘Anything you hate?' asked Alison wryly.

‘Bob.'

‘Who's Bob?'

‘My stepfather.'

Jodi hadn't as much as mentioned Bob's name the entire six years she'd been in high school. Yet here she was, telling Alison, a girl she barely knew, that she hated him.

‘He says he's in love with me,' Jodi heard herself confess. ‘He wants to fuck me.'

She was appalled at what she was saying, but relieved too. Extraordinarily relieved.

Alison looked utterly shocked.
‘No shit!'

‘It's true. Horribly true.'

‘Does your mother know?'

‘No.' Jodi shook her head so vehemently that she began to feel dizzy.

‘Why haven't you told her?'

‘Because he said he'd kill us both.'

Alison's horrified expression was blurring before Jodi's eyes. In fact, everything was blurring. And spinning. The words from the song reverberated in her head. She staggered on her feet.

‘Jodi?' Alison's voice sounded far away. ‘I think I need to get you home …'

Alison propelled her through the gyrating crowd. The exit was in sight when she slumped and fell to the floor.

A series of discomfiting sensations followed. Gentle slaps to her face. Hands under her armpits, dragging her along the floor. Horrible bile in her throat. Floating on the flat of her back. Pinpricks on her arm. Then, at long last, she was left alone to sleep.

She woke with a sandpaper mouth and clanging head. Her eyes felt like they were glued shut. She forced them open. The first thing she saw was a floral curtain. It swept around her bed, ensconcing her in a cell of fabric. She was wearing a blue cotton gown, and her right hand was bandaged and attached to a drip.

I'm in hospital …

Shirley would be so disappointed with her, and rightly so. Moving out of home would be off the cards for years. Jodi squeezed her eyes shut, the consequences too much for her to face.

A few minutes later she heard the curtains being drawn back. Warily, not knowing what to expect, she opened her eyes again. A nurse, who looked not a lot older than her, stood by the bed.

‘How are you feeling?'

‘Awful.' Jodi propped herself up. ‘And embarrassed.'

The nurse gave her a small smile as she checked the drip. ‘You're not the first and you certainly won't be the last person we've had in here in that state. We monitor you while you sleep it off. That's all we can do.'

‘What hospital is this?'

‘Royal Prince Alfred.'

‘Does my mother know I'm here?'

The nurse gave her a sharp look. ‘Your friend told us that your parents were away on holiday.'

Jodi felt a wave of gratitude towards Alison.

‘Sorry that she lied, but it's best my mother doesn't know, it really is.'

The nurse checked Jodi's pulse and pressed her fingers around her tummy. ‘You seem to have survived okay. You'll have to wait
until the consultant comes around before you can be discharged, though.'

‘Okay.' Jodi was relieved but already thinking ahead. Her overnight bag, which contained a spare set of clothes, was at Alison's digs. ‘Is there a phone I can use to call my friend?'

‘If you're referring to the girl who was with you last night, she's in the visitors' room. She slept on one of the armchairs.'

‘Yes – that's Alison.'

‘I'll tell her to come in.'

The nurse slipped away through the crack in the floral curtains.

Jodi's overnight stay in Royal Prince Alfred Hospital was a life-changing event in more than one way. Firstly, it cemented her friendship with Alison, who had not only shielded Jodi from trouble at home but had waited faithfully in the visitors' room until the next morning.

‘Thanks,' said Jodi when Alison, bleary-eyed and dishevelled, came to her bedside.

She shrugged. ‘That's what friends are for.'

Jodi hung her head. ‘You know what I said about Bob last night …'

‘Yes …'

‘Well, I don't like to talk about it – I only blurted it out because I was drunk …'

‘No worries.' Alison squeezed her hand. ‘I won't bring it up if you don't. Just one thing, though …'

‘What?' Jodi looked up, apprehensive.

‘My digs, as you know, are pretty basic, but you're welcome to stay on my spare mattress any time – seven nights a week if you want.'

Her offer turned out to be a lifeline.

When Jodi got home from the hospital, she found a letter waiting under her pillow.

I can't get you out of my head tonight – where you are, what you're doing, who you're talking to. You're too beautiful for those spotty boys – I'm the one who should teach you how to kiss, how to touch a man …

The letter became more and more explicit and, despite it being a torturous experience to read the full length of it, Jodi did so. Her survival instincts told her it was better to know what he was thinking than not.

I want to love you in your bed, with all your girly things around us
–
pink sheets, soft toys …

Jodi tore it up when she finished, the tiny pieces fluttering into her plastic rubbish bin. She was frightened. The letter had moved things onto another level. He had never been so graphic before, so sordid. It seemed as if he wouldn't be able to contain himself to words for much longer.

Jodi thanked God for Alison's spare mattress. From now on she would stay with her friend as much as possible. Until she was eighteen and got her own place.

Being rushed to hospital from a university social function had another consequence that Jodi didn't discover until she went to class on Monday morning. She sat down next to Alison and didn't notice the administration assistant handing a slip of paper to the lecturer.

He looked at the slip of paper and then at his students. It was too early in the year to know any of them by name.

‘Can Jodi Tyler, if she's present, go straight to the dean's office, please?'

Jodi, who was busy taking her textbook from her satchel, didn't register that she was being called until Alison gave her a nudge.

‘That's you, sleepyhead.'

‘Oh.'

‘He must have heard about Friday night,' Alison whispered.

‘Oh no.' Jodi was suddenly very scared. ‘Can you get expelled from university? Or does that only happen at school?'

Alison shrugged. ‘I don't know.'

Her face white, Jodi walked out of the lecture theatre. She didn't know the location of the dean's office but guessed it was somewhere upstairs. She walked along the blue-carpeted corridors, which formed a square around the perimeter of the building, and checked each varnished door for his name. Eventually, after doing nearly a full circuit, she found it. The door was open.

‘I'm Jodi Tyler,' she announced to the secretary who sat inside.

The secretary, casually dressed in jeans and a plunging top, looked at Jodi over the top of her glasses.

‘Go along in. He's waiting for you.'

Jodi knocked carefully on the door behind the secretary's desk. She didn't want the rapping to sound too harsh or too meek. But maybe her fate was decided regardless.

‘Come in,' she heard him say.

She took a deep breath and pushed the brass door handle downwards.

‘Sit down,' she was instructed before she had the chance to get her bearings.

The dean sat behind a large desk that overflowed with books and paperwork. In fact, the whole room was overflowing, the shelving on the walls chock-a-block too.

The dean regarded her with a grave expression. His hands, clasped together, rested on the desk, and his grey eyes were narrowed. Jodi tried not to squirm.

‘Have you recovered from Friday night?' he asked in his clipped upper-class voice.

She nodded, feeling like a schoolgirl.

‘Do you have a problem with alcohol? Do you need help?'