The Other Madonna (8 page)

‘Bullshit.'

A glass smashed. I looked around like everyone else. Jiff was standing in the bar with one hand raised like he'd just won Olympic gold. Bianca started clapping and a summer shower of applause rippled around the restaurant.

Bianca looked at me with her puppy eyes pleading and I realised she was asking me to do something that I wanted to do. I was just frightened. Terrified.

‘All right. Twelve o'clock?'

She smiled and nodded. She hugged my leg and I patted her curls.

Luce sneaked out of the toilets. I watched her close the door behind her. That had been a long minute. She'd mopped her face. The mascara had gone but the skin around her eyes was raw and puffy.

I nudged her elbow when we met behind the counter. ‘Hey. You okay?'

She nodded. ‘Ari's moving house,' she said, and busied herself with the order dockets. ‘Going to Sydney.'

I rubbed her back. ‘Sorry, Luce.'

She shrugged. ‘Plenty more olives in the barrel, huh.'

Jiff's pizza was ready. I opened my mouth to call him and thought better of it. He was standing beside Bianca's seat, chatting away. I put his pizza on a table for two near the door. Jiff was showing Bianca his finger. The one he'd
cut. I pushed between them and put my arm around Jiff's waist. I told him that his pizza was getting cold and that he wasn't supposed to be working.

‘I wasn't working. I was just talking to . . .'

‘Bianca,' I said.

‘Telling her about . . .' He held his middle finger aloft and someone at the other end of the table shouted, ‘Same to you, arsehole.'

He laughed and shrugged my arm off. It flopped to my side and he was gone. For a second I felt sick, like I'd pushed the new confident Madonna too far. That I'd found the limit of my charm.

‘Hey Maddie. You want a piece?' Jiff called as he sat down.

Things had slowed down. The phone was quiet. Pepe was sitting near the kitchen door with a glass of vino and his newspaper. Luce was cleaning the benches. Every swipe with the cloth was an effort. I knew she'd live.

Sit with Jiff. Why not, I thought. Just for a minute. Date practice.

I pulled out the chair opposite him and the front door opened. It was Trefor with an armload of empty pizza bags. I sat down. My heart galloped. The whole scene was something else. I'd never sat down while there were customers in the restaurant, except to take an order. I'd never sat opposite anyone worth lusting after and shared their pizza. Pepe looked over while the mozzarella from my piece was still stringing to the pizza in front of Jiff. I smiled. It was a dumb, apologetic, I'll-just-have-one-piece smile. He smiled back.

‘Who's Bianca?' Jiff asked through a mouthful.

‘My sister's . . . boss. Colin's boss.'

‘Ahh,
the
Bianca. She's pretty wild.'

‘Yeah.' Chew chew.

The pizza was good and I didn't realise how hungry I was until I swallowed the first bite. There was the hunger and there was the growing sense in me that I was pushing my luck with the DiFrescos.

‘She older or younger?' Jiff asked.

‘Huh?'

‘Your sister.'

‘Evie? Twenty-one.'

Jiff was staring at me.

‘What?'

‘Do you always eat like that?'

I looked at my hand and realised that I'd put away twice as much pizza as Jiff. I shrugged and filled my mouth again. Chewed hard. ‘I'm supposed to be working.'

He nodded slowly.

‘I'm hungry.'

‘Uh huh.'

‘Starving.'

He smiled. ‘Will you come and have a coffee with me sometime when you're not working?'

‘What?'

‘I didn't come in tonight to work. I came to see you. Talk with you. About my finger. And get some of the best pizza in Brunswick, ay.'

I shrugged and chewed and swallowed hard. ‘Me, have a coffee with you?'

His head rocked back. ‘Yeah. What's so bizarre about that?'

‘Nothing,' I said, and wiped my mouth on a burgundy napkin as I stood up. ‘That would be great.'

‘Okay. What are you up to tomorrow?'

Thursday. ‘Nothing.' As usual.

‘Ten o'clock?'

‘Okay. Where?'

‘I don't know. You tell me.'

I thought about Igor's. I thought about Gables. I thought about holding Jiff's hand. ‘Meet me out the front at ten.'

‘Pepe's? Just out there?'

‘Yeah. We'll walk. I know a place.'

‘Choice.'

‘I'd better get back to work.'

He nodded and waved me off with the back of his hand.

I joined Luce behind the counter. The table of four had decided to pay individually. They looked like two couples. They were arguing with each other about who'd had what and Luce's jaw was clamped in barely contained rage. I'd never seen her so angry.

‘I can do that, Luce.'

‘Oh, you
are
working this evening, Madonna.'

I looked down at the counter. ‘Sorry.'

Pepe called Luce over and she slapped the pen and docket book on the counter. He made her sit down. She lumped into the chair and crossed her arms. She spoke in Italian.

I watched the faces of the customers contort as they
argued shamelessly about tiramisu. They were drunk enough not to give a damn. They looked like couples but they argued like divorcees on TV. I added a few extra dollars to each bill. No one noticed. No one complained. The most vocal bloke gave me a sleazebucket look and handed back his change.

‘Keep it, lov. Thanks,' he said, and held my hand for way too long. He was too drunk to look at me.

Lucia was smiling when she returned. ‘You sure stuffed that up.'

‘Stuffed what?'

‘The big healing. Now they all reckon you're
the
Madonna with divine powers.'

‘Well, maybe I am.'

She grunted.

I laughed.

‘How'd you get Nonna to walk again?'

‘Um, held her hand. She got herself up. I reckon she's been faking it all these years. They call it attention-seeking behaviour.'

‘That fits. She's always been a bit of a drama queen.'

Jiff arrived at the counter with an empty pizza tray. ‘That was dee-lish. How much?'

Luce looked over at Pepe then whispered to Jiff that it was on the house.

‘Sure? I don't want to get you into any trouble.'

‘Positive. Have a good night.'

He smiled and turned to go. ‘Thanks, Luce. See ya. See ya tomorrow, Maddie.'

And he gave me that look. The Dad look. The
something-behind-the-eyes look. The Red look, only it made the skin on the back of my neck prickle when Jiff looked at me like that. The door closed quietly behind him.

Luce was blinking. ‘Did he just say, “See you tomorrow”, Maddie?'

‘Uh huh.'

‘Oh moi gawd, she's got a date with the gay boy.'

‘Yeah yeah.'

‘You going to convert him, Madonna?'

I stepped past her and tried not to smile. ‘You never know.'

She forced a laugh. ‘Don't like your chances. But, hey, you are the Madonna.'

Pepe kicked Bianca and the last of her friends out at midnight. He sighed as he turned the sign on the door to read
closed
. He dragged out his keys and I realised the relos were still in the kitchen. They'd been there all night.

‘Hang on, Pepe,' I yelled. ‘I'll get going.'

‘Sure? Why not stay for a while. Have a coffee or something?'

‘Nah. Got stuff on tomorrow. Better get a move on.'

‘Okay,' he said, and stood by the door.

I called goodnight and Bruna appeared at the kitchen door. ‘Goodnight, Madonna,' she beamed. ‘See you tomorrow. Thank you. Thank you for everything.'

I got to the door and realised that I'd forgotten my jacket. I grabbed it from behind the counter. I kissed the tired Pepe on the cheek and stepped into the cold air. It had been raining. A car
shhhh
ed along the road. Its headlights
lit up a form slumped under the verandah in front of Fun-Da-Mental. I sucked a breath and swung wide around the body.

‘Mahhhhhhdonnnnaaaahh.'

‘Paolo? Go inside. Your dad's locking up.'

‘That was pretty impressive, what you did for Nonna.'

‘What? Held her hand?'

He struggled to his feet. One of his knees cracked. ‘Made her walk again. You heard what Mum said. Ten years. It's a miracle.'

The sweet stink of grog was on his breath.

‘I think she's been faking it.'

‘Bullshit. You fixed her. Can I walk you home? No funny business.'

‘No thanks. I'll be right.'

‘Nah, nah. I'll come with you. Just look out for you and that.'

‘No.'

‘I'm coming,' he said, and put his hand on my shoulder. ‘Come on, Madonna, let's go.'

‘Piss off,' I said, and slapped his hand away.

‘Orright orright. You walk. I won't touch you.'

I stepped onto the wet footpath and pulled my jacket around me. Paolo followed.

‘Go home, Paolo.'

‘Yeah, when you're home and that.'

‘I can make it by myself. What do you want?'

‘What do I want? Nothing. Just some of your magic, that's all.'

I turned to face him. ‘Some of my magic? You're sick.'

‘Now now,' Paolo said, and held his palms out to me. ‘No need to get nasty. I just want some help, that's all.'

‘What?'

‘It's a private . . . sort of . . . problem.'

He stuffed his hands in his tracksuit pockets and I stifled a laugh. Probably got the pox, I thought. Some dick disorder from too much wanking.

‘Private?'

‘Yeah,' he whispered. ‘I need a root. I think I might die.'

‘Fuck off.'

He grabbed my jacket.

I spun and punched at his arm.

My jacket ripped and he yanked me off balance. He grabbed my hair and I shrieked as my knees hit the concrete.

I scratched at his wrist. ‘Fuck off!'

He laughed and my skin crawled.

‘Just a head job then. Come on.'

He shoved my face into the crotch of his tracksuit.

I bit him.

He let go of my hair and dropped to his knees, his hands buried in his groin.

I scrambled to my feet and ran. I spat and listened to him screaming and cursing as I ran.

‘Arggghh. You . . . fucking . . . dumb . . . bitch.'

It was good to hear him suffer. I'd been called worse things before. The smile on my face would have been forced and savage looking. The tears were real, though. They were always real but they'd never last.

By the time I made it to the lift, my eyes were dry and
a rage was barely clamped between my teeth. I didn't think he'd try that again. If he did, I'd do more than bite him.

Do I have ‘CHEAP SLUT' written on my forehead? I should have run as soon as I saw him. Filthy prick.

I could hear rasping in the flat. Dad was face up on his bed, fully clothed. His snoring had filled the room with ciggie beer breath. Nothing ever changes.

D
ad had gone again by the time I got up on Thursday. Normally Thursdays are a bit of a write-off if I work late on Wednesday night. Normally I'd drag myself out of bed and drag myself through the day. I kind of wake up at about 5 pm, just before I need to get going to work again. Factor in that sick puppy Paolo and I should have been wrecked that Thursday. But that Thursday was something else. I woke just before nine in the morning. My eyes snapped open and I swung my feet out of bed. I'd had some creepy dreams. They lurked like the smell of something rotten in the fridge but I couldn't remember them. I could remember the rage that I felt about Paolo. As far as monsters go though, he was only a novice.

I showered and folded my Pepe's uniform into my bag. Just in case. There was a note to say that Dad had gone out. Said he'd be back for dinner and that he'd bring food with him so not to bother making any. Love Dad. I left my hair wet and left it out but looped a hair tie on my wrist. I stood wrestling with the doubts that had flown in with the light
of day. Jiff was bound to be a monster in disguise. It'd only be a matter of time until his dick got the better of him. No man is
that
perfect.

I couldn't find my keys. They weren't on the bench. They weren't in the door. I had to dig through my bag with one hand . . . my keys were in my other hand. I stood alone in the flat and blushed.

Red was waiting by the lift. I wondered if he slept there. He pushed the button near the down arrow and stood with his hands behind him, his back against the cold steel doors.

‘You'd better watch it, Red. The doors are going to open in a second and the lift is going to gobble you up.'

He blinked.

The lift pinged and he rocked forward. The doors opened behind him. He stared.

‘You hopping in? I've got to get going.'

He didn't move.

I stepped forward and he stuck out his fist. A wilted yellow gerbera smiled from the nut of his hand. I looked at the flower and then at Red.

‘For me?'

He nodded.

I reached out, fully expecting him to pull away. He opened his hand and laid the wilted stem across my palm.

‘Isn't it pretty? I found it near the bins. It's nobody's. Do you like it?'

It was my turn to stare. It was my turn for speechlessness.

‘Do you like it, Madonna? If you don't I'll give it to Bushka. You can only keep it if you like it.'

For a moment I had to wonder if I'd really woken up, or if I'd dreamed the shower, the breakfast, the keys. ‘How did you know my name?'

Red shrugged. ‘Easy. I listened.'

The door began to close behind him. ‘Whoops,' he shouted, and slapped the button then his forehead. The doors racked open.

He looked past me and I knew she was there. The old hag. I turned. Her mouth opened in a snarl.

‘Thank you,' she said. ‘Thank you for bringing Shaun home. Thank you for helping him.' It wasn't a snarl, it was a smile.

I looked at Red. ‘My pleasure, Shaun. Glad you're all better.'

His brow furrowed. ‘Heyyyy. How did you know my name?'

‘Easy. I listened.'

He stepped aside and let me in the lift. Me and my bag and my flower. The doors were closing. Shaun waved. ‘You can call me Red if you want.'

The air on the street was warm. I swear I could smell the desert. Not that I would really know what the desert smelled like but there was a dusty heat about the breeze that chased me down Sydney Road. Everything about the day felt just a bit weird. I thought I saw my dad ahead on the street and I waved but it wasn't him. A car skidded and crunched into the back of a tram. Everyone turned to see the tram conductor and the driver of the car bounce onto the road. They watched them look at the damage with their hands
on their hips. They watched them laugh. They laughed like they knew each other, like the accident was part of a bigger joke that only they understood.

I arrived at Pepe's at 9.17 am and dropped my bag on the step. I rattled the door. I cupped my hands against the glass and thought that it was the first time I'd been at the restaurant when the lights were off. First time I'd ever seen it darker on the inside than it was on the outside.

‘Whaddaya think you're up to, young lady?' said an unfamiliar wog voice. I looked around, startled by the strange man in the shades. He wore a frown but the frown quickly faded into a smile. A killer smile.

I held my throat. ‘God, you scared the shit out of me.'

Jiff chuckled and pushed his glasses onto the top of his head. He hugged me but I hadn't quite recovered. Would have been like hugging a mannequin.

‘Hiya, Maddie,' he said. ‘Didn't expect to see you here so early.'

‘Nah. Oh, yeah. I had to . . . I wasn't . . . I thought we were meeting at ten.'

He shrugged. ‘Close enough, ay? Where we going? Do you want a coffee?'

‘Yeah . . . let's . . . this way,' I said, and started walking to Igor's.

Jiff didn't move. ‘Do you want your bag? And your flower? That's your bag isn't it?'

I scuttled back and pressed my flower in the side pocket. It was wilted beyond recovery but I couldn't chuck it out. I grabbed my bag. I heaved it on one shoulder and Jiff held out his hand.

‘What?'

‘Can I help? Give us your bag.'

‘Nah, it's okay. Bag's fine.'

‘Give me your hand then,' he said.

‘You don't have to . . .'

He rolled his eyes and offered me his palm again.

I took it.

He smiled. A killer smile.

As we walked, he talked. Raved, really.

‘. . . So I thought how am I going to live with half a finger missing? Will they be able to sew it back on? And then you grabbed it and something happened. Something . . . I dunno. Something magical. I dunno what shocked me more, seeing my cut finger or when they wiped the mess off and the bloody thing was healed. You're amazing, Maddie. That can't be right, I thought. I must've been dreaming or something. But there was all that blood, you saw it, didn't you? You saw all the blood, ay Maddie?'

He stopped and held up my hand. I hadn't realised how big his hands were. He inspected my fingers. ‘How
did
you do that?'

I shrugged. ‘I dunno. I didn't do anything. I just . . .'

He shook his head and kept walking. ‘Colin said you were something else. He was right, ay.'

I felt my cheeks fill with blood. ‘So, how do you know Colin?'

‘He's my cousin. His mum is my mum's sister.'

I stifled a sigh of relief.

‘What?' he asked.

‘I thought you and Colin were . . .'

He rolled his eyes again. ‘The little poofter. He loves making out that we're . . . you know . . . a couple and that. When we were little, and he and his mum lived in New Zealand, we used to play mothers and fathers only there was just him and me. Both our dads pissed off when we were little so we didn't really know about mothers and fathers. We used to play mothers and mothers and he'd always kiss me when I'd come home with the shopping. He never grew out of it. I went on to play rugger and he shifted out here with his mum. It's handy when I come to visit, though, ay. All of Col's mates are . . . you know . . . gay. They think we're a couple so they leave me alone.'

‘Are you a couple?'

He looked at my fingers folded in his massive paw then he frowned at me. ‘I love him heaps but I don't think so.' He smiled.

‘Just checking,' I said.

We ordered cappuccinos and sat under a flapping cream umbrella. A tide of people washed past on the street. A guy in a suit and tie had the
Age
spread across the table next to ours. The desert wind tried to steal his paper and he slapped at it furiously then moved his cup to pin down the corner.

Jiff held out his hand to me. I gave him what he wanted and he inspected my fingers again, shaking his head solemnly.

‘I just want to pack you in my suitcase and take you home with me.'

A bell clanged in my guts. I gently pulled my hand away and used it to scratch the back of my head.

Jiff sat back. ‘I really hoped I was going to stay. I've never wanted anything more in my life. But they don't want me.'

I sat waiting for him to go on. He stared up the road.

‘Who're they?'

‘The university boards, the faculty heads, the scholarship agents. In New Zealand we have these bursary exams and I got good marks. Great marks. I thought they'd be enough to get me into vet science here but here you need a better mark to be a vet than you do to be a doctor. How crazy is that? I scraped in but my mum can't afford to put me through uni.'

‘You want to be a vet?'

‘Ever since I was little, ay. It's always been my dream. Maybe a fantasy. I grew up on a farm not far from Wellington. Sheep farm.'

He looked as if I was going to say something.

‘I never had sex with any of them.'

‘Whaat?'

He laughed silently. ‘The sheep. Aussies reckon Kiwis root sheep. I never have. I went to school with a guy who confessed to thinking about it but he was an Aussie.'

I laughed. I laughed hard and uncontrollably. It rattled inside me and burst from my mouth at squeal pitch. Jiff smiled and looked up and down the road. Tears flooded my eyes and I wiped my face on my sleeve. The laughing had rattled the strongbox of emotion in me. The place where everything was locked down. All the hurt and the
loneliness. All my dreams and longing. A bit leaked out. It sloshed out of the strongbox and dribbled from my eyes. One minute I was laughing, the next I was crying. I hid my face in the crook of my elbow and my body shook. I hoped Jiff only saw the smile. How would I explain it? Oh, just PMT. Post-menstrual tension. That month was revolutionary. I experienced pre-menstrual tension, mid-menstrual tension and post-menstrual tension. Couldn't blame my body every time I felt brittle. Couldn't blame my hormones for every emotion that moved through me. Probably could blame my hormones for some things though . . .

I came up smiling. Wiped my eyes again.

Jiff was looking serious. ‘The Kiwis reckon the same about the Aussies. That they root sheep.'

I laughed and had to wipe my nose on a napkin. ‘How long have we got?'

‘Ay?'

‘How long?'

He looked at his foot under the table. ‘I'm booked to leave on Tuesday.'

I almost invited him up to the flat. Right then. Right there. I wanted to show him my bedroom. I wanted to show him my bed. I wanted to show him that pleasure goddess Madonna. Powerful. Sexy. Wild. I knew I could be better than good. I knew that I could have done it with Jiff and still loved myself in the morning. It would have been honest. And bliss. Pop diva Madonna in full control.

That pop diva sits beside a Madonna of more humble means. The other Madonna. The one that glows with
the love and respect that balances the lust. The one that's more interested in the size of Jiff's heart than the size of his . . .

Stop! Breathe. Change the subject.

‘Do you have any brothers or sisters?'

Jiff's eyebrows jumped. ‘One younger brother, Alex. He's fifteen just before Christmas.'

‘Get on all right?'

He scratched his nose. ‘Yeah. All right. Some days we fight like bar rats. Mostly we're good mates. I've been missing the little bugger since I've been out here, ay. So tell me about your mum and dad. You've got a sister, haven't you?'

He asked for it. I told him the whole story. About Mum dying before my first birthday, about Dad and his new lease of life, about Evie and how she fought with Dad. He sat there, nodding occasionally, stroking the backs of my fingers until the skin felt raw but I didn't want him to stop. I kept talking until I'd run out of words. Our palms weren't sweaty. Our cups were empty.

‘Come on,' he said, standing. ‘I want to show you something.'

‘What?' I didn't move. The swirl of thoughts about what he might want to show me made me hold my breath. Is a monster still a monster when you willingly go with him?

‘It's . . .' He smiled. ‘It's nothing like that. It's a view.'

‘Of what?'

‘You'll see. Come on.'

I needed to pee but there was no time. I paid at the
counter and Jiff grabbed my hand. We jogged to the station, my bag clomping and rattling, my bladder sloshing and fit to rupture. We slipped onto a Flinders Street train just as the doors were closing. We sat opposite each other, panting, with manic smiles plastered to our lips.

‘Where?' I asked.

He shrugged.

‘Come on.'

‘It's a surprise.'

Off the train, onto the street. Onto a tram. Off. Onto another tram. For a bloody foreigner Jiff sure knew his way around the city. We walked into the foyer of a beautiful hotel. My stomach muscles clenched. Maybe he had a room? The carpet seemed to glitter. The traffic noise died as the doors slid closed behind us. Jiff led me calmly across to the lift. The lift was carpeted. Half the walls were carpeted too, and where the carpet finished, mirror began. It smelled like perfume, like a glamorous angel had just left. Certainly didn't stink of piss, though it would if we had to travel very far.

‘Where are we going?'

He ran his hand over the buttons and settled on floor number thirty-five. ‘You'll see.'

When the doors of the lift opened, I could hear water. Thirty-five floors up and there was a waterfall in the middle of the room. A full-blown rainforest cascade. I pressed my knees together and prayed. We walked around the front of the waterfall, past an empty bar and lounge, past a restaurant and down a long flight of stairs. We stopped in front of
the gents' toilets. The waterfall and the stairs had almost undone my bladder and I looked for the ladies.

Jiff put his hands on my shoulders. ‘Wait right here. Just one second.'