Grease Monkey Jive (41 page)

He was looking at her oddly, as though he needed an explanation about why they were standing in a grey besser brick corridor, as though he wasn’t sure who she was.

“Dan?”

He didn’t close the distance between them; he didn’t even put his bag down. A flare of fear rose in her lungs, hammered her eyelids narrow. There was something terribly wrong with him. She stepped up to his chest and put her fingers to his lips, stiff and compressed. She no longer wanted to hear him speak, but he jerked his head back, a small movement, but more aggressive than any she’d ever seen him make.

The word, “Don’t,” grated from her too-tight throat, an empty plea to keep him quiet now when for weeks she’d wanted him to talk.

“We’re done.”

“Yes,” she sighed. “We did it.” There was something wrong with him, but she didn’t need to be scared about it. “You can relax now, no more rehearsals. You never need to come to the studio unless you want to. But I hope you will. I’ve loved dancing with you. You’re my favourite partner.”

She stretched up to kiss him, but his lips were still firm and fixed.

“You’ll have lots of other partners.”

“None like you,” she smiled, hoped it would relax him. Maybe this was his problem. He thought he was going to lose her when she no longer needed him as a partner. “It’s only a little while now and this will be over and there’ll be time for us to do other things together. Things you want to do.”

“We’re done, Alex.”

“Not quite, but yes, I know what you’re saying.”

He moved suddenly, dropping his bag, grabbing her arms, bring his face close. “We’re done, you and me, we’re done.”

His breath was hot on her cheeks, “What?”

“I said I’d help you guys out. It’s over for me now and we had fun together. Good fun, but it’s done now. We’re done.”

“What?”

“Come on, Alex. You know what I am. You’ve always known. This is what you were worried about when we started.” Dan shrugged. It was punctuation, a full stop. Then he offered an addendum, “I really enjoyed our time together.” It read like an insult.

“Enjoyed?”

“You’re a beautiful chick.”

“Chick!”

He had the grace to flinch.

“You’re dumping me?”

“I’m moving on. It was great, really great, and now it’s finished.”

“Finished! We’re not finished.”

Dan picked up his bag. He was having trouble looking at Alex. He was having trouble sensing, thinking, feeling. He just had these words to say, needed to get them to come out right, and then he could stop hurting her. “We’ve been finished for weeks.”

“So you’ve just been doing me a favour, dancing with me, having me in your bed?”

“I loved having you in my bed. I’d have you anywhere you wanted. But I figure you’re not that kind of girl, so I’m trying to do the right thing here.”

“The right thing? You are unbelievable and I’m a complete fool!”

The venom in her voice made him close his eyes, take a deeper breath to help hold his place beside her until she sent him away.

She snapped, “You’re a liar.” It was a sharp whip crack of truth slicing across his heart.

“Yep. Sorry about that.” He said it as steadily, as casually, as he could.

“I told myself when I fell for you that it should just be a physical thing, that you couldn’t be trusted.” She put her hands to his chest and pushed him backwards, “That I could play the player and use you as a rebound boy,” a second hard shove, but this time he held against it. “But you’re good, you’re so much better at this than I could ever have expected.”

He ached for the relief of her slap, but it didn’t come.

“I hate you, Dan Maddox. I hate you. I wish I’d never meet you. I wish I’d thrown you out on your ear the minute you tried to talk yourself into my life. Get out. Get out of my life!”

Alex’s body was rigid with anger, but she didn’t drop her eyes, didn’t shrink from this horror. The flood of bile in her throat threatened to make her vomit, but she swallowed it down. She’d been a complete fool. Phil paled into insignificance beside what she’d done with Dan, abandoned all sense and reason because he had a gorgeous smile and an engaging manner, vacated her logic because he made her body sing, forgotten everything her life had taught her. Men lie. They lie and they cheat and they hurt you and they leave. She’d known this her whole fatherless life and yet she’d set that reality aside because something about this man fooled her into thinking love could be real.

Dan just stood there, his hand jammed in his pocket. Why didn’t he leave? Fuck off, get out of her life? Why was he still standing there? She’d given him enough; the show was over.

“This playground is closed,” she hissed. She couldn’t say his name. “Go find your sport somewhere else.”

“I’m sorry, Alex. It’s just one of those things. If you ever need anything, you know for your car or...” Dan trailed off. He had no idea what he was saying, if he was the last grease monkey on earth she’d rather walk than have him fix her car. It was well past the point he should’ve walked away.

“I will never need anything from you,” she spat the words out and though it wasn’t her hand stinging his face, it was release.

He turned and went back towards the change room. The corridor was a passage circling the venue. He knew there’d be an emergency exit he could use to avoid having to talk to anyone, having to see Fluke again. He’d already turned his phone off. He didn’t need Mitch in his head either. Back with Belinda, Mitch would preach like a bitch. He felt a twinge of guilt not saying anything to Scott or Trevor, not thanking Gwen, but then none of them would want to see a hair on his head once they saw Alex.

This was the way it needed to be.

He drove around for a while, eventually pulled over and bought fish and chips, fed most of it to seagulls. Then he went home, stalked around the flat and couldn’t settle into anything. Folded washing, put dishes away, sat in front of the TV, but couldn’t find anything worth watching. Tried to read. Knew he wouldn’t sleep. What he wanted to do was obliterate himself with enough alcohol to stay numb for days. It felt like a good plan. He’d deliberately annihilated the thing in his life he cared most about, and there was actually a chance he might be fool enough to survive it if he could wipe his memory of Alex out.

But there wasn’t enough booze in the world. Not enough other junk either that could burn the sense of her out of him. She was in tight, locked in his pores, in his vital organs. There was no way he’d ever lose the sight of her, forget how she felt in his hands, the sound of her laugher, her soft sighs in his head. No amount of addictive substance or self-destructive behaviour would be enough for him to deny the way she made him feel – like there was good in him beyond the superficial skin, like he was Janelle’s son too. All of it, the drink, what drugs he could easily score, the itch to drive the Valiant screaming into a wall, would just make him more like Jimmy, and that was the only reason he didn’t try it out – just to see if he was wrong.

Jeff wouldn’t have a bar of him, wouldn’t come into the room. He’d been able to smell the coward, the rat in him for weeks. Smart dog. He had to take his collar to encourage him down the hall. He drove to the old bowling club, parked, got out, sat on the hood of the Valiant, and stared at the orange glow of Bondi. It was prime time for parking, but he barely noticed the other cars and he must have sat there a long time because eventually he realised there was only one other car left.

He didn’t recognise the kid who approached, but it was obvious the kid remembered him. He wasn’t much older than Cooper, probably still in school. It was a Sunday night and he was wasted.

“Dude, is your girl coming?”

“No.”

“Man, she was shit hot. You sure she’s not coming?”

“Yup.”

“Did youse break up or something?”

“I’m not paying you off tonight.”

“Nice dog.”

“Look, kid, fuck off.”

“Be cool man. Plenty of other sluts out...”

Dan moved so fast Jeff yelped. He had the kid by the throat bent over the front fender before he could finish his sentence. He saw frightened eyes, heard the other car start, heard the kid’s choking cough, and smelled his sour beer breath before he let go. When the kid stumbled back to his mates, they screamed up the driveway with the handbrake still on.

He went home via a bottle shop and drank till his brain was marshmallow, till he passed out. He was Jimmy Maddox’s boy and then some.

Alex was already sitting at the kitchen table when Gran came in to put the kettle on. She didn’t think any of them had slept much. Scott probably hadn’t; he was too tall for the sofa and she’d heard Gran moving around during the night in her room and Sylvia was still at work.

Alex had alternatively raged and sobbed when they’d come home, but now she felt drained, all the colour leached out of her, all the sound silenced. Gran had tea and vegemite toast on the table when Scott stumbled in rubbing his eyes and yawning.

“Ah. Thank you Gwen.” He sank down on one of the wooden chairs rubbing the back of his neck. “I hope you’re ready to face the world, Alley cat, ‘cause I’m sure as hell not. My ankle is healed, but I think I might’ve broken my back.

“You didn’t have to stay. I’m fine.”

“Yeah, so fine, you’d fit through a strainer.” Scott yawned and rocked his head from shoulder to shoulder.

Alex yawned too and Gwen had to stifle hers behind her hand.

“I’m not going to wallow if that’s what you think. I’m going to class today. I’m going to get on with it. And next time some pretty face with a smooth manner gets in my way I’m going to make sure I don’t get too involved. See? Easy. This is my own fault. I knew what he was before I got into this. It’s like forgetting dogs bite and then getting angry with them when they do. It’s their nature. And I don’t have to feel like this ever again if I remember everything I know about men, without exception, to be true.”

Scott reached for the teapot. “What do you think I am? Oh wait. I know you think I’m some kind of neutral species, but I’m a man too and I’ve never lied or cheated or left you. There are exceptions.”

“Ok, but they’re very rare and grease monkeys are a dime a dozen.”

“Hear that, Gwen? She says I’m rare,” Scott fluttered his lashes, then rolled his eyes. “So rare, I have to make myself scarce. I have to get home, get ready for work. Thank you for the tea and the sofa, Gwen.” He bent to kiss her cheek, then pulled Alex’s plait. “See you tomorrow night.”

On the way to his car, Scott passed Sylvia in the small foyer of the unit block. Of the Gibson women, Mommy Dearest was his least favourite and he hated to see Sylvia’s way of thinking about relationships score a victory inside Alex’s wounded psyche. That was the worst thing Dan had done, worse than making Alex fall for him, worse than reverting to type; he’d given Sylvia her day.

“How is she, Scott?”

“Pissed off.” He didn’t guard his tongue around Mommy.

Sylvia nodded and he went to move past her, but as they drew side by side he said, “You probably think this is a good thing.” He squinted at Sylvia. “Oh, yeah, you do. You must’ve hated Dan, hated how she was with him.”

Sylvia gasped, “I didn’t hate him. I don’t know him. I’ve only met him a few times and then only briefly. They danced so, oh, I don’t know how to...”

“They danced like that because they trusted each other and they’re in love.” Dan wasn’t that good an actor. How could he dance like that and then tell Alex it was nothing? “But you don’t believe in love. You don’t believe there are good men and now Alex is in there thinking you’re right. Thinking how she should’ve listened to her mother. She won’t even consider fighting for him.”

“Fighting for him?”

Scott took a step towards the front door; he was sorry he’d started this. Why couldn’t he have just said, ‘good morning’ and been done with it? “Yes. Dan screwed up. People do. This is something that can be fixed.”

Sylvia’s hand fluttered nervously at her side. “What do you mean?”

“You raised a beautiful, intelligent woman who knows how to look after herself and get what she wants. The only problem is you’ve got her thinking loving someone isn’t worth the trouble.”

“No.”

“Yes. That’s what she thinks. She thinks this whole thing with Dan proves you were right all along.”

“No. I never meant... She doesn’t understand. I never... I was wrong. I’ve never seen her look as happy as she has with Dan.”

Scott had his hand on the front door to the block of units and jangled his car keys. He was sore and cranky, mad with Dan, and anxious for Alex. He’d be late for work if he didn’t ditch Sylvia. “Then you need to do something about it.”

“What can I do?”

“Talk to her.”

Sylvia put her hand on his arm, pale fingers over his forearm and he wanted to shake her off. “Tell her what, Scott?”

“I don’t know. You’ve always manage to manipulate her, you’ll think of something.”

She dropped her hand, looked at him with raised eyebrows in sudden understanding. “You think I manipulate her.”

Scott pulled the door towards him. Over his shoulder he said, “It’s what mothers do,” and left her standing there.

Sylvia could hear Gwen clattering in the kitchen when she pushed their front door open, but there was no sign of Alex.

“Is she sleeping, Mum?”

“No, she’s just out of the shower, she’s getting dressed.”

She slid into one of the kitchen chairs. “How is she?”

“Didn’t sleep much. Stayed up talking with Scott.”

“I just saw him. He doesn’t like me.”

Gwen smiled. “Sometimes you’re not very likeable, Syl.”

“Mum!”

“Well, you’re not. You’ve always been very hard on Alex and Scott is her best friend. It figures he’d take her side.”

“There are no sides. I just want what’s best for her. I always have.”

“But you never gave her much room, Syl, and she was always such a good girl. She knows there are things you just don’t approve of.”

“What do you mean approve of? If you mean the dancing, that’s just silly. She knows I don’t really mind, after all these years.”

“Does she?”