Unsuitable (16 page)

“Me
neither. Maybe I like her because she’s not a pole dancer, a fitness trainer, a
jockey, or a cop. That jockey girl was hot, but she always smelled like horse. Les
is not like any woman I’ve ever dated.”

“You’re
not going to date Les.”

“Why
not?”

“I
don’t think she’d spit on you if you were on fire.”

Polly
rubbed his jaw. “This morning she might’ve set me on fire.” He grinned. “Man,
she hated my very breathing presence.”

“You’re
only interested because you can’t work her out. That’s the thing with you, soon
as you work them out, you’re bored.”

“Anything
wrong with that?”

Was
there? Is that what had happened with him and Sky? The minute he’d had all of
her he’d gotten bored? Did he only want Audrey because she was different?

Polly
slapped his shoulder. “Relationship advice from you right now is a land mine,
mate.”

Reece
put his forehead down on the bar and groaned. Polly paid up and left him to
wallow. He got a text from Merrill saying Audrey was responding to treatment
but was still critical and they’d not been able to see her. That was better
news. That was hope.

He
had nowhere else to go. He went home to Charlie’s, found dishes in the sink and
washed up. Hung clothes out to dry, put a load of washing on, got rid of a head
of lettuce a day off jelly in the crisper. Then he scared the bejesus out of
Etta, and that almost made things bearable.

She
was home too early for school to be out. She had a packet of fags in her hand. She
wasn’t expecting the front door to be open or him to be standing on the
verandah with a broom. She saw the open door first and hesitated. Her feet left
the path in surprise and she shoved the fags into a pocket when she saw him. “What
are you doing here, you freak?”

“Not
jigging school. Not fucking up my lungs.”

“I’m
not—”

“A
very good liar.”

“I’m
not jigging. We had a free period. I chose to have it at home. The cigs aren’t
mine.”

“Are
they Gin’s, because lung tar is what she needs in her life?”

“Cute.
They’re for a friend.”

“Which
is why you had to hide them.” He leant the broom on the side of the house and
held out a hand. “And the friend won’t mind if I have one.”

“They’re
not. What? You?”

“I’ve
had the worst day, Ett, play nice.”

She
held the pack out to him. He broke the seal and took one, raised his brows at
her. “Friend got a light?”

She
took the packet, put a stick in her mouth and fished a lighter from her pocket.
She lit up and blew smoke at him.

“Didn’t
know you smoked.” She tossed the lighter at him.

He
caught it and lit up. “Didn’t know you did.” He had to hold in a cough, the
smoke curling in the back of his throat, teasing his lungs.

Etta
smoked like she was one of those old blokes with yellow fingertips. She
shrugged. Too cool. At Etta’s age he’d had responsibilities. It was only later
he’d thought he was invincible.

She
sat on the step. “I never take them inside the house.”

He
sat beside her. “Smart.”

“I’m
not a doofus. I know you think I am.”

“Your
body, Ett. You can do what you want with it. But you only get the one.” She
blew smoke at him. Charlie had to know she was doing this. The smell would be
in Etta’s clothes.

“And
for a tinsy minute I thought you were going to be rad and not act like my fricking
father. What’s with your worst day ever anyway?”

“Audrey
has meningitis. She’s in hospital.”

Etta
leant away. “Oo, are you like contagious?”

He
held smoke in his lungs. Maybe he was. Maybe somewhere inside his body he was
brewing those germs that might still kill Audrey. It was impossible to believe
they could kill him too. He shook his head.

“Far
out. What about Mia?”

“She’s
fine. Audrey’s friends are looking after her.”

“Instead
of you.”

He
took another drag and coughed.

“Is
Audrey going to be all right?”

“I
don’t know.” He stubbed his fag out on the brickwork and flicked the butt into
the garden.

“Hey.”
She rammed her elbow in his hip. “You made us weed that.”

“Charlie
would know you’re smoking.”

“No
way.” She blew a fucking smoke ring.

“She’d
know.”

“Then
she’d be all over me.”

“Maybe
not. Think about it.”

“Reverse
psychology.” Etta looked at the tip of her fag. “Do you think I’m addicted
yet?”

“Do
you think having an addiction is cool?” He could tell by the way she waited for
his response, half ready to leap down his throat if he said the wrong thing, that
she did think it was cool. Fucking hell. He didn’t know what the right thing to
say was.

“What
else are you doing you shouldn’t be doing, Ett?”

She
took a another drag, let it out on a lazy sigh. “Meaning?”

He
ticked them off on his fingers. “Detention. Dope. Drugs. Dudes.” Shit, he could
play for shocks too. “Dudettes?”

“Are
you asking if I’m a virgin?” Ice, she was too scary cool.

“I’m
asking if you’re fucking up your life.” Like he’d once very nearly fucked his
up. “My boss nearly died today. I did a stupid thing last night and forgot my
keys, so I couldn’t get in the house. I had to break the door down. If it’d
been the weekend, she could be dead already.”

“None
of that is on me.”

“No,
but shit, Etta. Are you fucking up?”

She
flicked her butt into the garden too. “Not at school. I’m good there. I smoked
dope. It was foul. I threw up everywhere. It was so embarrassing.” She waited
to see what he’d say but he knew there was more. “I want to do other drugs. Everyone
does. I want to try them, but I am scared of getting addicted.”

She
was scared, but only in that it wouldn’t happen to me, I’m smarter than that
way you could be at sixteen.

“Charlie
would put you on the street before that happened and then you’d have more than
addiction to worry about. And I’d come at you so hard, Ett, you wouldn’t know
which way was sunshine.”

“You
can back off, tough guy. Everyone at school does drugs, prescription and
street, so don’t get all up me for skipping a class and smoking. And yeah, Mum
probably does know, but she’s cool about it, so you have to be too. Anyway, why
would I take any shit from you on this?”

“You
know why.”

“Because
you’re my big brother.” She mimicked tiny with her index finger and thumb in
his face.

He
batted her hand away. “You know why.”

“I
don’t, you know. It’s still this big secret. You left home and you stayed away
and we hardly saw you and when we did you were messed up, bad temper, scabs and
bruises and Mum wouldn’t talk about it. Am I ever going to know what happened?”

He
could dodge this. He wanted to. But it didn’t seem right to sit here and lie to
Etta on the day Audrey might die. And he wanted better for her. Girls didn’t
get the same second chances. Sucked, but it was true.

He
took a breath. “I was fucked up, Ett. I was drinking, doing drugs, whatever I
could get. I was drunk or high all the time. I was fighting.”

“Like
boxing?”

“Illegal.
Street fights. For money. I was good at it.”

She
laughed. “Because you’re freaking enormous.” She thought this was funny.

“That,
and I’m fast and light on my feet. I made a lot of money. I pissed most of it
away. I hurt a lot of people. I’m not proud of it.”

“How
badly did you hurt them?”

“I
broke stuff. Arms, legs, ribs, faces.” He took a breath and let it out slowly. He
never talked about this. And it was worse, far worse than he could tell Etta; than
he could tell anyone. For three years he’d been defined by substance abuse and
violence. A too easy brutality that gave him minor celebrity status.

Etta
looked at him with suspicion. She didn’t trust it.

“One
guy lost an eye.”

She
rocked into his side, like she’d been hit with a physical shockwave. “Holy
crap. I. Don’t. Believe. You.”

“I
was different those three years. I’d finished school. I didn’t know what I
wanted to do with myself. It was easy money. The drink and the drugs made me
aggressive. I’m too big to hit other guys and not hurt them, but they all
wanted to prove something.”

“That’s
why your hands were always cut up.” She put her hand briefly over his. “Your
knuckles were the worst. Did you get hurt bad too?”

“No.
Broke a couple of fingers. Broke Charlie’s heart. She told me I couldn’t come home
till I remembered who I was. I hated her those years. I hated her for a lot of
years. All those years she was sick, or studying and working, I had to be
responsible for you and the twins and Flip. I missed out on being a normal kid.
I was full of resentment and she told me to grow up and be a man and that’s
what I thought I was doing. Being the man.”

“Jesus,
Reece.”

He
shook his head. After saying nothing for so long, he’d said too much.

“Why
didn’t you become a proper boxer?”

“Because
without the drugs I didn’t want to hit people and after a while I stopped being
angry. Even with the drugs I used to spend half my time visiting guys I’d
smashed up in hospital. I missed all of you and I wanted to come home.”

“I
remember how happy Mum was when you did.”

“I
remember two things.” He sighed and Etta leaned in to him. “You hated it
because I got my room back and Flip was scared of me. My own baby sister didn’t
want to come near me. That was it for me, no going back ever. But I have to
live with what I did and who I was. And I only told you because I don’t want
that for you.”

She
lit up a second cigarette. He waved away her offer. He could see her churning
all that over. He had to hope it was enough to make her think. To let her know
she could talk to him about stuff she wouldn’t go to Charlie with. That was
something Polly’s dad had done for him.

She
flicked the butt of that fag into the weed as well. “When I saw you with the
broom I thought you’d come home again.”

He
grunted. “No, I’m only visiting. I’ve got plenty of room at Polly’s.”

“Was
Polly fighting too?”

“He
was the fight organiser. I don’t think he’d want you to know. He’s not proud of
it either. This is between us, Ett.”

She
nodded, but there was only so far he could trust that. He took a breath, clean,
smoke free. Charlie always said it was his story to tell and today was as good
as any day to have told it. He hadn’t been that guy, strung out, quick to anger,
high on violence, for so long now it was hard to remember what he was like
then, the way he’d loved the power of it, been good at it.

“I
went with a guy. He wanted me to...”

Oh
shit. He leant into Etta, and when she didn’t pull away he put his arm around
her. Whatever she said, he’d deal with.

“He
wanted me to touch his prick. I did it. I jerked him off. It was gross.” She
shivered and he gave her arm a rub. “He wanted to touch me and I wouldn’t let
him. He called me a slut and told everyone I was easy. Now all the guys think I
got with him and that I’ll hook up with anyone.”

The
hand not holding on to Etta was curled in a fist. “Who do you want me to be,
Ett?”

“What
do you mean?”

“Your
big brother or your fake dad?”

She
sighed. “What difference would it make?”

“You’re
right. Both of us want to grind the dude’s dick to dust. Is he still around?”

“Not
sure if I should tell you now that I know you used to beat up guys for fun.” She
shook herself like a wet dog. “I still don’t believe that.”

“I
wouldn’t beat him up. I’d have a little talk to him.”

“You’d
intimidate him into a puddle of piss.”

That
would be the plan. “You don’t think he earned that?”

“He
moved away. And I don’t hang with the same peeps any more. I’m not going to be
a virgin when I get married or anything dumb like that, but I’m not ready and
there’s no guy I like that way. I just.” She sighed. “How will I know when I’m
ready?”

“Jesus,
Etta.” His phone rang. He pulled it out and answered. Merrill, talking fast. He
could hear Mia grizzling in the background. They were home from the hospital. Audrey
was stable, but they’d not been able to see her. Esther was arriving tomorrow. Mia
was unsettled. She wanted to play treehouse, what was that?

He
told Merrill how to build Mia’s pretend treehouse out of a sheet, the ironing
board and a lounge chair and they rang off. That was the easy stuff. Etta
watched him like he had all the answers.