The Other Madonna (12 page)

‘What, her and Michael Jackson?'

‘Not that Madonna, the other one. From the Bible.'

I groaned and sat up. ‘Nah,' I said. ‘Must have been asleep in that RE lesson. Was she a slut?'

I picked up my coffee. Jiff looked up the road. The coffee was bitter and I didn't want sugar. I didn't want sugar and I didn't want Jiff. I knew it, I thought. No one can be that perfect. He must be a religious nutter.

‘A slut? Not exactly. You know at Christmas they have those scenes with the mother and the father and the little baby Jesus . . . a few farm animals, bit of straw?'

I rolled my eyes. ‘Yeah.'

‘The mother.'

‘Mary?'

He nodded. ‘Otherwise known as Madonna. Our Lady. The Blessed Virgin Mary.'

‘Ha! Yeah, that's me all right.'

‘They called her the Ever Virgin. Her spirit was as pure as.'

Holy Mother of Jesus. ‘Is there a point to all this?'

‘I reckon there's a bit of that Madonna in you. I reckon that's how you could heal my finger. There's a part of you that's totally pure. No one has polluted that. I could see it in your eyes when we first met at Pepe's. Your name suits you.'

‘Do you pray and stuff too?'

Jiff blew air from his nose. ‘Okay. Time for me to reveal my deep dark secret from the past.'

‘Whoohoo. Deep and dark.'

‘I went to a Catholic school.'

‘So you're Catholic then?'

He shook his head. ‘I had to do quite a bit of RE. Part of the deal. Surprising how much you remember.'

‘Does that mean you're not allowed to use condoms?'

‘I wouldn't say that.'

‘Have you got one on you?'

Jiff smiled and put his hands behind his head. ‘I might have.'

‘Show me.'

He dug into his pocket. He lifted his bum off the chair to do it. It was then that the dream of Jiff being different was totally shattered.

There was a lump in the front of his pants.

‘Oh . . . my . . . god,' I said. I shivered and dropped my cup into the saucer.

‘What?'

‘You sick bastard,' I growled.

He blushed and tried to cover himself up. ‘What?'

‘This is turning you on. You've got a . . . you're the same. You're all the fucking same.'

My chair clattered to the ground as I bolted. I knew I was tripping out and getting all dramatic but I had to get away. I bumped a woman and her coffee slopped.

‘Maddie? Maddie, wait!'

I heard his chair scrape on the pavement and I didn't look back. I ran along Sydney Road and down Fitzgerald Street, away from the flat, away from all the emotion and out of sight. I sprinted and the air rasped in my throat.
I felt like I could run forever. My side ached and my teeth clanked when I stepped off the gutter to avoid people on the footpath. Strange people in a strange suburb. I ran until my hair stuck to my forehead and my clothes were clammy with perspiration. I ran until my body begged me to stop and I had chased away the slimy feeling.

I slumped in the gutter and cried.

My blood glugged in my veins like cold custard as I dragged myself home. My limbs felt heavy and I couldn't fill my lungs. Nobody was at the flat. I thought I could smell Jiff. I grabbed my jacket and got out of there before I smashed something or took a leap from the balcony.

I arrived at Flinders Street as the sun, in its final gasp for the day, lit the buildings watery gold. I walked. The street drummed under my runners and the emu parade of people that washed around me kept shaking me out of myself. Out of my pit of self-pity. Just accept the fact, I thought. They're all monsters. Well, most of the straight ones anyway. Get over it. Live your life around it. Or not.

I thought about phoning Colin but the thought was as close as I got. I didn't want to talk about Jiff. I phoned Tricky at home at five o'clock.

‘Hey Dad.'

‘Maddie? Where are you, lov?'

‘I'm in town. I . . . I'm meeting up with a few of my mates. I'll probably stay at Colin's tonight.'

‘Oh. Okay, lov. Look after yourself.'

‘Yep.'

‘Maddie?'

‘Yeah?'

‘I love you.'

‘I . . . Okay . . . see you later.'

I held the phone to my ear for a long time after he hung up. Just stood there and churned inside. Seeing the monster side of Jiff had set me spinning, reeling off to my own personal oblivion. It was like I was magnetically attracted to being a hopeless loser and all I needed was a shove. I realised the shove was less to do with Jiff being a monster and more to do with me thinking that I
should
be a loser. It was my destiny.

‘Maddie?' Dad had said.

‘Yeah?'

‘I love you.'

And I'm spinning somewhere else.

Spinning into Myer as it was closing and buying clothes. A pair of strappy dancing heels and a little black dress. I wore the dress and heels onto the street. I stashed my clothes in a locker at the station. The first club I tried to get into wanted to see ID. I smiled at the weight-lifter guy at the door and was about to walk off when he told me it was fine. I squeezed his arm as I stepped inside and he looked at me, his brow furrowed with seriousness.

‘Thanks,' I said.

He nodded.

And that, my dear Maddie, is called charming the

monster.

It was too early. Too early to be cool and clubbing. The only crowd to speak of was at the bar. I pushed through and ordered a vodka and lemon. The guy standing next to
me ordered a beer and I'd emptied my glass before his drink had arrived. I ordered another.

‘Bit thirsty?' the guy next to me said. Twenties, dark hair, tiny beard hanging from his bottom lip.

I smiled at him and he backed away. Maybe I bared a few too many teeth. Chimpanzee language for ‘piss off'. He laughed, then edged beside me again, his elbow resting against mine as bodies pressed in around us.

‘You here on your own?' he said, looking around.

I pulled my elbow back and spotted a crew of girls who looked about eighteen or so on the dance floor. A tall redhead from the group was looking my way. ‘Nah, I'm with a heap of mates over there.'

The man nodded and stifled a smile.

I fought back the urge to scream at the guy. Leave-me-alone. Did I look like furniture that someone had left on the nature strip? Leave-me-the-fuck-alone. Then I was seething inside again – at Jiff, at the DiFrescos, at every arsehole who ever hit on me – daring them all and the guy at the bar to try something. Try it. I'd give them something in return.

Molten rage.

‘You look like you've had a rough day,' the guy said. ‘Would you let me buy you a drink?'

He had a soft accent, Irish maybe. Rather than gouge the guy's eyes out, I nodded. All the heat went from my bones. This is it, Madonna. This is as good as it gets. I realised I didn't have to fight anymore. I knew that all men were monsters and it was pointless fighting monsters. I already knew how to tame them.

‘Vodka and lemon, thanks.'

The guy's elbow was resting against mine again as he ordered and paid for the drinks. He introduced himself as Robbie and I told him my name was . . . my name was Lara.

‘As in Croft?' he asked.

I smiled and nodded. Men with a need are so weak, I thought. Lead them around by their dicks, anytime. It might be the men who have the muscles but it's the women who have the power. I realised that I didn't want Robbie or anybody in the bar. I wanted the Madonna fairy-tale. I wanted the prince. I wanted him to be my equal. I excused myself, told Robbie I was going to the toilet and got swamped on the dance floor. I danced into that tight circle of girls and waved hello. Before I'd had a chance to feel like a total bimbo, the tall girl with a scribble of fiery hair trussed in a high ponytail danced across and shook my hand. She looked familiar.

‘Katie,' she shouted.

‘Madonna,' I yelled back. She looked familiar but we'd never met.

We danced. Well, we moved. There was nothing wild about it. Katie and her mates didn't like to shift their feet. They looked at the floor, the lights, everyone else. After ten minutes of watching them bump I decided I'd gatecrashed a circle of losers. Yeah! My kind of people. Not.

I signalled to Katie that I was going to get a drink and she followed me off the floor. I had to stop my eyes from rolling when I turned to ask her what she wanted to drink and saw that all her mates had followed us to the bar. Like a flock of seagulls. Katie bought her own Kahlua. Her
mates bought drinks then stood and looked at the floor, the lights and everyone else, and didn't dance.

Katie asked me what I did. I shrugged and told her I was a waitress. She told me she was studying accounting at uni. She introduced me to her friends: a collection of mice in human bodies. I didn't hear any of their names. They shook fingers instead of hands and I thought it was time to leave. One of the mice said that she was going back to the dorm.

‘Do you want to grab a bottle of something and get hammered at my place?' Katie shouted in my ear.

I frowned.

‘I don't like drinking on my own and it's nearly these girls' bedtime.'

Animals. Wild party animals off to bed at ten o'clock. ‘I'm in,' I said, and we chinked glasses.

We downed our drinks and shoved through to the street. Robbie was deep in conversation with a blonde in a red dress and didn't see me leave. I told Katie that I had to get my stuff from the locker at the station and she said she'd come with me. The mice giggled along behind.

I gave Katie twenty bucks and she bought a huge bottle of Kahlua. I prayed that I liked it. It was thick and sweet and my first mouthful from the neck of the bottle made me gag and splutter. I liked it. And I liked Katie. She laughed like The Count off
Sesame Street
. We stopped at a 7-eleven and she bought four litres of skim milk. The Kahlua was dangerously drinkable with milk.

The night kind of fell apart after that. Katie's room at the university smelled like incense. The mice scuttled off into their own holes and my new friend and I got wiped
out. She told me stuff about her life, about growing up in a little town just over the border in New South Wales. She told me about her boyfriend Gareth whom she'd been going out with since year ten. She said he had a Commodore and a big dick.

‘Katie, darling. In the big city telling me about your boyfriend's dick is regarded as an overshare. Especially on our first date.'

She grabbed my knee and laughed Kahlua breath in my face.

I pushed her off. She apologised and poured another drink.

I remember laughing. I remember crying. I remember washing a CD in the bathroom sink but I don't remember why. I remember how my head felt when I woke on Sunday afternoon – like I'd had a huge ball bearing surgically inserted into my skull during the night and any sudden movement or loud noise would cause it to move and crush my brain. I'd slept in my new dress, wrapped in a sleeping bag on the carpet.

I couldn't wake Katie. She was snoring like my dad and the dark stain on her bed sheets had filled the tiny room with the stink of piss. I used her toilet and shower, changed into my tracksuit, T-shirt and runners and wobbled towards home. I drank two bottles of water and fell asleep on the tram. I freaked when I woke and didn't know where I was. I'd missed my stop. I walked for almost an hour and when the flats came into view above the Sydney Road shops I had to fight back the tears. There was no prince, and getting ripped hadn't helped.

R
ed jumped onto the pathway from the top of the letterboxes.

I squealed. The ball bearing lurched and I held my temple.

‘Ha haa. Scared ya!'

‘You did, you little monkey. What are you doing down here?'

‘Waiting for you.'

‘Yeah? You wait all day for me?'

‘Your flat is wrecked, Madonna.'

‘Wrecked?'

‘Yep, they've been doing explosions there today and it's wrecked.'

‘What are you talking about?'

‘Your dad wrecked your flat. You can even come and see for yourself.'

We hurried to the lift and when the doors opened on the twelfth floor I could smell something unusual. A cool dusty smell. I opened the door of the flat and Red ran home. All I could smell inside was frying onions.
My mouth watered. The light was on and Dad and Rosie were in the kitchen. Smiling like clowns.

‘Hello, lov. How was your night?'

I shrugged. ‘Great.'

‘Ahh, come here,' he said, and hugged me. ‘That boy Jiff phoned.'

‘Did he?'

I couldn't give a rat's.

Dad hugged me and didn't let go. There was a warmth and lightness in his embrace that was usually reserved for moments of great sadness and upheaval. And that dusty smell was in his clothes. I rocked back on my heels and looked at his face. He smiled like he needed therapy. Rosie busied herself with tea but I could see the smile in the lines beside her eyes.

‘What's going on?'

I scanned the flat but it looked just like I'd left it.

‘Nothing,' Dad said, and slunk into the kitchen.

‘Crap. What is it? What have you done?'

Rosie looked at Dad. Dad beamed.

‘Are you guys . . .?'

‘What?'

‘You're not planning anything silly, are you? Not getting engaged or anything like that?'

Dad hooted a laugh. ‘No, no. Nothing like that, eh Rosie?'

‘Not this week,' Rosie said with a smile.

Their little secret was hanging in the air and Dad was waiting. Looking around the flat with feigned innocence.

‘What?' I squealed, and looked around me again.

It took me a moment to notice the new shelves. Solid red blocks with boards between them, stacked from the floor to the ceiling. A few books had been carefully placed on them and two dried flower arrangements adorned the middle shelf. Rosie's handiwork.

‘Nice shelves,' I said, and stepped over for a closer look. The red blocks felt like bricks covered in fabric.

‘Ahh Maddie? There's something that um . . . we . . . that's Rosie and me . . . wanted to tell you.'

Dad took Rosie's hand.

I stiffened and looked down my nose at him. ‘Yeahhh?'

‘I know I should have . . . well . . . consulted with you and all that but . . . it didn't happen that way. Rosie and me, we've been thinking about moving in together. Just to see what it was like.'

My mind raced off. They're getting a house together. Where am I going to live? I couldn't live here by myself. Maybe I could move in with Bianca and Evie? Colin?

‘So today . . .' Dad said.

‘It was a bit impulsive,' Rosie added with a smile.

‘Yes. Impulsive. Definitely that, Rosie. But life's too short so we decided to do it,' Dad said. He pulled aside the Celtic sarong wall hanging and revealed a hole in the wall that was bigger than a doorway. Bigger than a doorway and edged with the rough of broken bricks. It looked like a portal had been blown into another dimension. And it was. Beyond the hole was Rosie's flat.

My jaw dropped and I shook with confusion and laughter. They'd smashed a hole in the wall between the flats so they could be more than neighbours.

‘That's government property, I hope you realise,' I said. ‘What if the whole building falls down?' I shook my head but I couldn't stop smiling. I hugged Dad and my guts were churning. It's too soon, I thought. Ten years of sharing nothing but banter about the weather, now they shared a four-bedroom flat. I wanted to run again.

‘It's just an infill wall. Doesn't hold anything up,' Dad said.

They were still chuckling when I moved towards the hole. The sarong had fallen to cover it and the whole idea of pulling down the wall seemed so crazy that I had to hold my forehead.

‘May I?'

‘Of course!' Rosie sang. ‘It's your place, too.'

I stepped through the gap into Rosie's. The walls were the same blast of colour. There were flowers on the table and the air smelled of Rosie. And concrete dust. She had a hallstand against her bedroom wall ornamented with a collection of bronze Buddhas, chubby smiling men with bald heads.

Dad and Rosie had followed me in. Dad stood with his arms crossed. ‘What do you think?'

What did I think? I looked around Rosie's flat and I felt like an intruder. Rosie was a warm breeze that had made my dad bloom. For that, and a million other things, I
wanted
to be happy. But it didn't happen. I stood there, analysing Me, trying to convince myself that Mum was long gone, that it was great that Dad was moving on. And I realised that Mum had nothing to do with it.

I didn't trust Dad.

He'd been a ‘New Man' so many times in my life that the whole idea of ‘New Man' was old. I felt like I knew him better than he knew himself and I felt sorry for Rosie.

‘Fan-tas-tic. Bloody fan-tas-tic,' I said.

Dad and Rosie hugged and jiggled like school kids until Rosie gasped and pushed Dad away.

‘Shit, dinner!'

The onions had burned and the flat no longer smelled of
frying
onions, but Dad's and Rosie's cheeky cheer rallied into the evening.

At 9.27 pm the phone rang.

‘If it's Jiff . . . I'm not home,' I said, and darted for my room.

The phone rang a few more times and I stood behind my closed door and pressed my ear against the wood.

‘Hello?' Dad answered. ‘Hello Evie, lov. How are you? . . . Listen, lov, I'm really . . . yeah, I know . . . well, I
am
sorry . . . I lost my head . . . it was my fault . . . I know that . . . I can't blame the grog . . . Evie, I'm sorry that I hit you, lov . . . I'm happy that you found a good place and all that but if you ever need to come home, know that the door's always . . . yeah . . . I'm doing my best . . . things are changing . . . like turning the
Titanic
but it's happening. Maddie? Sure, I'll get her for you. Maddie! It's Evie.'

I ripped the door open and grabbed the handpiece. ‘Hey.'

‘Hey Maddie. Old Tricky's in a good mood tonight. Get his end in?'

I huffed into the mouthpiece. ‘Could say that.' I dragged
the phone into my room and closed the door. ‘He smashed a hole in the wall.'

‘Whaat?'

‘Yeah. Got a hammer and knocked out bricks between our place and Rosie's. We now live in a four-bedroom flat with two kitchens.'

‘Bullshit.'

‘Serious.'

‘Bloody hell. How're you going with all that?'

‘I don't know.' My throat got tight and the words came out as a pathetic sort of squeak. The night out with Katie hadn't drowned the sadness and confusion. It got wet and it went under but it just bubbled up again. ‘Everything has turned to shit and I don't know which way is up.'

‘Ohh, Madds. What happened?'

‘I lost my job at Pepe's,' I sobbed. ‘Turns out that Jiff is a freak like the rest of them. I hate Rosie and I haven't got a home anymore. My life is fucked.'

‘You poor love. All that has happened since you came over?'

‘I could use a hug.'

‘Tomorrow. Promise. I was ringing up to see if you wanted to go out for coffee tomorrow. My shout.'

‘Yeah. Of course. If it's your shout, anytime.'

‘Bitch. After we eat I'll take you to Myer for your new work uniform.'

‘Get off!'

‘I'm serious, Maddie. If you want a job, come and work at Sapphires. You'll love it.'

Out with the old. In with the new. ‘I will. I will. I will.'