Versace Sisters (11 page)

'So I packed up and left, went back to live with Mother
in Westville. Of course she was over the moon to have
Sally in her clutches; thrilled that my marriage to an
unsuitable skip was over and that I was back where she
could nag and hassle me all bloody day long. I never heard
from Danny again. Bastard.

'But look, it's been okay living with mother, at least
she helps me out with Sally. I could never have become a
flight attendant without her support, and I need a good job
so I can save for Sally's education and buy a bigger house
one day. It's only when she starts shoving all the Cambodian
crap down Sally's throat that I really get angry. I can't
believe that she's been doing it behind my back all this
time.' Her voice was choked with emotion.

'Being Cambodian has only ever brought me pain and
suffering and I always vowed that Sally wouldn't have to go
through anything like that,' she said.

Sera wanted to say that Australia was a different place
now, a place of racial tolerance and inclusion; but from
her sheltered perspective how would she know? Was the
country any fairer or more tolerant than it had ever been?
Maybe Chantrea was right to try to prevent Sally identifying
with a part of her culture that could set her apart from
her peers.

'So that's it, Sera, that's my story and for obvious reasons
I'd appreciate you keeping it to yourself,' Chantrea said,
looking at her watch. 'It's one am. I better go.'

Sera hugged her friend. 'I'm here whenever you need
me,' she said.

'Thanks, darling, it means a lot to me.'

Sera watched from the door as her friend was swallowed
up by the night.

The winter air may have been chilly, but the sun was a
shining reminder of summer in Sydney.

'You never get sick of it, do you?' Sera sighed as Mallory's
BMW X5 transported the two women across the
Sydney Harbour Bridge.

'It's just magnificent,' Mallory agreed, glancing over to
the white sailboats dotted across the harbour like stars on
a navy blue sky. 'So, anyway, Vince is just doing so well
since they made him General Manager. He's gets a wicked
bonus every month and we get to go out in the company
motor cruiser whenever we want!'

Sera smiled tightly. She'd never been a big fan of Vince.
She found him quite challenging to be around. He was . . .
now what was the word again? She thought idly as she
gazed over the sprawl of North Sydney as they came off the
bridge. That's right, a wanker.

Mallory had met Vince when she was waitressing at
an exclusive Hobart boutique hotel just after she had
left school and they'd been together since. Although
Sera and Mallory had been inseparable since first grade,
Sera found it hard to swallow Mallory's whirlwind
romance and subsequent shotgun wedding to the Melbourne
salesman who was ten years her senior. She just
couldn't believe that Mallory, with her gorgeous, selfless
personality, was actually happy with Vince – a bloke who
thought nothing of cutting his toenails while entertaining
guests.

Sera blamed herself a bit. She felt as if she'd deserted
Mallory; fleeing to the mainland to follow Bella into a
flight attendant career the minute she'd finished school.
Maybe that was partly why Mallory settled so quickly for
the boorish Vince.

Vince was flashy, a bit thick and a bloody show-off. He
made Sera's skin crawl with his reflective Dolce e Gabana
sunnies perched atop his spiky haircut, his pink Paul Smith
T-shirts and Diesel jeans – and he was such a skinny little
short-arse too.

'And last night he bought me the most beautiful bunch
of long-stemmed roses, what a romantic!' Mallory was still
talking.

'What's the occasion?' asked Sera suspiciously.

'No occasion, he just said he loves me,' Mallory sighed,
shoving her enormous Gucci sunglasses further up the
bridge of her freckled nose.

'Hmmm.' Sera firmly clamped her teeth shut to avoid
making a sarcastic comment. It was sweet of Mallory to
insist they have a girls' day out.

'You work so hard,' she'd whined, 'it's about time you
and I got out and had some fun.'

Sera had had to admit it was tempting. She had not had
a day to herself, aimlessly shopping, lunching and trying
on make-up, for weeks. After a morning spent at Mecca
Cosmetica, they were now headed for their next stop: a
well-earned lunch break at the luxury boat dealership
where Vince worked. Sera had tried to convince Mallory
to have lunch on their side of the harbour but Mallory had
insisted she had a surprise for her.

'So, what's this surprise you've got in store for me,
anyway?' Sera asked her as they drove through elegant and
leafy Neutral Bay.

'Well, it's not a surprise so much as more of a bit of a
lark,' Mallory said, smiling. 'There's a new salesman at the
dealership. He's absolutely gorgeous.'

'So?' Sera said. 'We're married, remember?'

'No, no, you don't get it. You know how toffy the
school is my Tilly goes to?'

'You need to show your personal balance sheet to get
in the door.'

'Yeah,' Mallory agreed, not even slightly offended.
'Well, the schoolyard gossip is that the wealthy wives of
Sydney are buying their husbands' boats from Royal First
Leisure Cruisers thanks to this new guy. The rumour is that
he's seducing the Mothers' Committee one by one.'

'What?!' Sera was delighted at such a scandal.

'I know; it's hilarious. You've got to see it to believe
it, though. If we stay at the café having lunch long enough
you're bound to see what I mean.'

*

The towering white hulls of enormous boats greeted the
two women as they walked into the dealership.

Mallory scanned the room for her husband. A brittle
laugh drew the girls' attention to where Vince was leaning
over the reception desk, his pinstriped bottom in full view.
The giggle had come from the bleached blonde, mini-skirted
receptionist who was looking at Vince with huge
doe eyes.

'Oh, good, there he is,' Mallory said. 'Hi, honey!'

Vince gave a startled jump. 'What are you doing here?'
he demanded.

'We're having lunch at your café. Thought we'd surprise
you,' Mallory said gaily, reaching out to embrace her
husband. He caught her arms and pulled them away. 'Not
in front of the team, darling,' he muttered.

'Sorry,' Mallory said immediately and put her arms
down.

Sera happened to flick her eyes to the receptionist, and
was shocked to see the look of pure poison she was sending
Mallory.

'Hi,' Mallory said sweetly, unaware of the clear hatred
she had provoked. 'We haven't met. You must be Sharee.'
She stuck out her hand in greeting to the new girl.

'Yes, hello,' Sharee replied and offered a limp tattooed
hand in response. Her poisonous look may have dropped,
but it didn't make her ferret-like appearance any more
attractive. Boy, does she need a make-over, Sera thought,
taking in the brittle white hair littered with split ends and
the excessive eye make-up.

'Welcome aboard, as they say in the nautical world,'
Mallory said chirpily. 'We're just having lunch if you'd like
to join us.'

'No, I'm working,' Sharee said sulkily and turned away
from Mallory to shuffle a pile of papers.

'Okay then, maybe next time,' Mallory said and she and
Sera walked over to the café. 'Odd girl,' she commented
as they sat down. 'As long as the boss is happy with her, I
guess,' she giggled.

Oh dear, Sera thought, poor Mallory.

After ordering lattes, sparkling mineral water and semidried
tomato, rocket, and prosciutto focaccias, they sat back
to watch the passing parade.

It was like being on a different planet – Planet Over-Indulgence. Arriving in luxury-taxed cars, each more
prestigious than the last, the potential customers all
glowed with Port Douglas tans under their casual polo
shirts and sports jackets. In contrast the all-male sales
team in their Hugo Boss suits looked as if they had come
straight from Wall Street.

The female after-sales team looked sultry in their tight
suits with generous cleavages and highlighted hair piled up
on top of their Bratz-sized heads. After customers splurged
on a floating caravan the girls went to work, selling them
the essential, can't-live-without accessories: depth sounder,
glass tinting, weather-guarding, anchor.

Mallory and Sera soaked up the atmosphere and theatre
of the dealership, gobsmacked by the displays of wealth
and folly.

Suddenly Mallory grabbed her friend. 'I don't believe
it!' she said, indicating the Stingray on the other side of the
showroom. 'That's Suzette Martin – her kids go to Eton
Grammar. She's married to Marvin Martin, the mobile
phone guy.'

'
No way
! She's the bitch who backstabbed Chantrea at
crèche the other night,' replied Sera.

With their table hidden behind a palm tree, the ladies
watched the woman descend the ladder at the back of the
boat. An outrageously good-looking black man followed
her.

'Yep, that's him,' Mallory confirmed in a whisper.

'He looks like serious trouble,' said Sera.

'Oooh yeah,' agreed her friend. 'I'm so glad Vince
doesn't have to do anything like that to make his sales
targets.'

Thomas lifted his head in irritation at the crash of china.
The last broken household item, smashed six months
before, had been a brand new fruit bowl. His careful
nightly examination of the online bank statements had told
him it had cost one hundred and forty-nine dollars and
ninety-five cents from Parterre. Such carelessness.

He looked in the mirror and smoothed down his
goatee. He was pleased with its recent salt-and-pepper
sprink ling. He felt it made him look distinguished. He pulled
down his white cuffs so they peeped out precisely an inch
from his navy reefer jacket.

It was a nuisance that Jacqueline had chosen to interrupt
his precious Sunday to entertain her knitting group, but he
was secretly looking forward to displaying his enviable lifestyle.

He'd washed the Mercedes, personally supervised the
dusting of his new pair of Ming dynasty horses and approved
Jacqueline's well-thought-out menu. She might be a klutz,
but she certainly had admirable traits in the kitchen.

He already knew Tony and Sera from next door, of
course. Sera was a sweet girl; clearly not from the right
circles, but quite charming.

He slipped on his leather loafers and went downstairs to
check on progress in the kitchen. As he passed the boys,
bent over the chess set, he ruffled Joshua's hair to congratulate
him on his ingenious move of his bishop.

The formal dining room was resplendent in the promised
shades of chartreuse and white. The water glasses were
lime and the stark white of the napkins and china leapt
from the pale green tablecloth.

In the kitchen his wife was aproned and bustling as she
cracked eggs into a large mixing bowl with one hand and
flicked the pages of a recipe book with another.

'The dining room is a delight, my dear,' he said, pecking
her on the cheek.

She flushed at his kind words. 'Oh, it was nothing,' she
said, but before she could relax into the compliment, he
followed with, 'What was the crash I heard?'

'Oh that – I'm so sorry, darling, it was the mate to
this mixing bowl, I'm afraid it hit the deck before I could
stop it.'

A raised eyebrow was his only response as he turned on
the tap to wash his hands.

'Well, I've done all I can here, I guess,' he said, mentally
assessing his checklist. He'd taken the cover off the
barbecue, pleased to see it gleaming, he'd showered, the
car was clean and his study was presentable and worthy of
an eminent physician. 'I think I'll run a chamois over the
Merc,' he said.

'Good idea, darling,' Jacqueline replied and flicked a
nervous glance at the clock. 'I'm nearly done, I've just got
three more dishes to create and a hollandaise sauce and I
need to give the patio a quick sweep.' If that was a hint, it
fell on deaf ears.

Thomas assessed his pride and joy as he sauntered down
the front steps. The Mercedes Benz S-Class Saloon was a
successful man's car. He'd lusted after it for years and had
finally taken the plunge last financial year. He took the
chamois out of the glove box and picked off errant leaves
from the car bonnet.

He didn't know much about Vince Rimmel, Mallory's
husband. They had met only once, very briefly, when he'd
toyed with the idea of becoming a boat owner. Thomas
realised Vince was a very wealthy man, but his flashy
accessories and obvious manner reminded him of a celebrity
sportsman. And his wife Mallory was a twit. Not the type
someone of Jacqueline's calibre should be associating with.

He did enjoy the haughty air of that flight attendant
Bella, Sera's sister. She embodied the type of refined superiority
he admired in people and he was sorry to hear she
wouldn't be coming today.

He hadn't met this new fellow, Sam Harvey, yet. An
architect – reasonable profession – still, he sounded a right
twat joining a women's knitting group.

Chantrea was an interesting type, quite the siren.
Although he'd initially baulked at her wild ways and
forthright speaking manner, he found he quite enjoyed
their conversational sparring and discovered she had a sharp
intellect.

He looked up at a sound from next door and saw Tony
leaning out to pull his office window closed. He put his
arm up in greeting.

'G'day mate,' Tony called out cheerily. 'See you
shortly.'

*

Tony pulled the window in and turned back to his MYOB
accounts. He'd managed to invoice every outstanding client
this morning. So what if the windows were a disgrace? He
could clean them this afternoon.

He was quite looking forward to brunch. His dash
downstairs to help Sera was punctuated by scooping up
the detritus left in the wake of the kids: a Dora doll, a
Spiderman gun, a hair-ribbon tied between two banisters, a
drink bottle . . . what was the bulge in the Barbie bag? His
tape measure. Of course. He popped everything in the toy
storage drawers in the living room and put his tape measure
up out of reach.

Thomas was all right, dry as toast and a shocking snob,
but get a beer into him and he loosened up. The girls were
a right laugh, though it was a shame Bella couldn't be there.

When he'd first started dating Sera he couldn't understand
why his new girlfriend was so devoted to her sister,
but he soon discovered that Bella was his wife's backstop
and best friend. When Tony and Sera had first married,
she couldn't choose a curtain fabric without ringing Bella
for advice. She was a lot better now, but they still spoke
often.

Sera was bending over at the dishwasher. 'There's a
sight for sore eyes. What an arse!' he laughed, pinching her
behind. 'Tony!' she squealed and wriggled away.

'Do you need any help? I've done all my homework!'
he said and selected an apple that was annihilated in three
quick crunches.

'What job do you want? Finish the dishwasher or dress
the kids? Your pick.'

'Dishwasher, definitely!' he said, taking over from her.

'Chicken,' she laughed as she ran upstairs.

'Not those jeans, I HATE those jeans!' Tony heard
Harry's shrill voice drifting down the stairwell. Tony
shook his head. He knew the jeans in question. They were
so precious to Harry that Sera had bought an identical
second pair. But obviously the second pair was not identical
because Harry could discern some subtle difference
between the impostors and his favourites.

The phone rang. Tony picked it up: 'Tony Wilson,' he
said.

'We bringing booze, or what?'

Vince Rimmel. He had a most disconcerting habit of
presuming everyone knew who he was. 'G'day Vince,
how's it going?' Tony had to force a pleasant tone.

'You know how it is, mate, fleeced the lambs again this
week, you know what I mean, eh? Eh?'

Tony didn't but just agreed with him and moved on
to address Vince's initial question. 'Don't know about
the grog question, mate, hang on a tick.' He yelled up the
stairs, 'Sera, Vince wants to know about grog.'

'We're taking a bottle of champoo!' came the reply.

'Champers, mate, probably appropriate for a brunch,' he
said back into the mouthpiece.

'Right, I'll bring French,' said Vince. 'Chicks love that
shit.'

*

Vince hung up without saying good-bye. He hitched up
his black jeans and cursed the tailor who hadn't cut the
hems short enough. His white Puma street shoes had lift,
though, so that should stop the cuffs from dragging on the
ground. He checked the top of his head, yep the Dolces
were firmly in place.

He didn't want to go to this stupid bloody brunch. Mallory's
friends were all boring wankers. That Thomas bloke,
especially, was a fuckwit, and Tony acted like his shit didn't
stink. Those air hostess sisters was stuck-up princesses, but
their Asian friend was all right. And it was always a good
opportunity for networking.

He went to check on Mallory's progress. Tilly wasn't
back from her sleepover yet, so with any luck he could get
one away before they left. He felt a headache coming on
and there was nothing like a quick root to cure all ills. He
was in luck. Mallory was still in her panties. She looked
fantastic for mid-thirties. He admired her tight body as she
shuffled through her underwear drawer. 'How about it,
Mal? Time for a quickie?'

'Oh Vince,' she giggled, 'you're insatiable!'

'I am at that, love. How many last night, three? Four?'

'Um, I think two – ah, here it is,' and she pulled out the
pink and turquoise bra that matched her knickers.

'It was at least three,' he muttered.

She pulled a hot pink sheath dress over her skinny form
and slipped on a pair of aqua open-toed pumps.

'Hello!' came a young voice as the front door slammed
shut.

'Tilly!' called Mallory, and when her daughter appeared
at the bedroom door they embraced. 'How was it?'

'Sooo good, there was a Justin Timberlake special on
MTV.'

'Omigod, he's so hot!' Mallory said.

'I know!' her daughter replied.

'You were meant to be here an hour ago, Til,' growled
Vince, taking his frustration out on his daughter.

'Yeah, whatever,' she replied and, rolling her eyes, slung
her overnight bag in the corner and went to the kitchen
for a Diet Coke.

'You ready, hon? We're going,' Mallory said as she followed
Tilly into the kitchen.

'Do I have to come? Those two boys are, like, so
boring. All they want to do is talk about Dungeons and
Dragons and shit.'

'Pulease?' Mallory put on her puppy eyes.

'Oh all right, only if I can bring my DS.'

'Deal,' her mother said.

*

After handshakes and air kisses all round on arrival, the
families retired to the patio for pre-brunch mimosas. The
younger children were plonked in front of a DVD while
the older children steadfastly ignored each other and the
men supervised Thomas's barbecuing.

'Is that S-Class out the front yours?' Vince demanded.

'Yes, she is, as matter of fact. She's a magnificent beast,'
Thomas replied coolly.

'Heard they've got problems with the ABS. Aren't there
recalls on them?' Vince asked.

'No, no problem at all. Would you like a drive?'

'Nah, thanks mate, I'd be worried I might be seen
behind the wheel of an old man's car!' Vince brayed.

It was so generous of Jacqueline to insist on inviting the
grandmothers, Sera thought, as she watched them chatting
together. Joan seemed relaxed, while Dara Kim happily
showed photos of Sally in dozens of poses.

Chantrea and Sam were talking about the horrors of
single life, a conversation Sera didn't think she could add
much to, so she glanced around for the hostess. Of course,
she was slaving away in the kitchen. Mallory was with her,
drying dishes.

She went inside to help. 'It smells marvellous in here,'
she told Jacqueline. 'What can I do?'

'Oh, you're a darling. Here, just zest this lemon for me
while I pop this tea out to Joan.'

Out on the patio, Sera's mobile trilled from the table.
Tony glanced at the caller ID. 'Whoops, better take this in
quick smart: it's Bella.' He hurried it inside to his wife.

'Darling!' Sera squealed into the phone when Tony
handed it to her. 'Guess where we are? We're having the
most delightful time at Jacqueline's! I'm so glad you called.
I wanted to ask you . . .'

Tony returned to the terrace and sat opposite Sam and
Chantrea. 'Glad we didn't miss
that
call, let me tell you!'

'They're very close, are they?' Sam said.

'Thick as thieves, mate. Bella's really been Sera's rock,
you know, her whole life. I thought I was going out with
both of them for a while there in the beginning. When
Bella's husband was away, Sera would insist Bella join us
on every date.'

'God, what a nightmare, having big sister chaperone
you,' Sam said.

'Yeah, it was a bit weird in the beginning. Every time
I asked Sera a question she'd look at Bella when she
answered, like she needed her approval,' Tony explained.
'But they had a pretty rough upbringing, you know. Bella
practically raised Sera. Their parents were never there, the
house was always filthy and life was pretty chaotic.'

'That explains a lot about Bella the clean-freak,' Chantrea
said, 'and why she goes to so much effort to make sure
everything is just so.'

'I think she's got Obsessive Compulsive Disorder,' Tony
admitted. 'I thought she was just a snob when I first met
her, but it's more that she's uptight and hard on herself, not
everyone around her.'

'Are they still so dependent on each other?' Sam asked.

'It's different now. Bella's been really distant lately;
she doesn't come to Sydney often these days. She says it's
because of her roster, but I reckon she's trying to give
Sera some space to be her own person. Also, I don't think
Bella's marriage is going too well. You know Curtis,
Chantrea. What do you think?'

Chantrea's looked down uneasily. 'Um, I don't really
know what's up with him. I don't like to say anything,
but he hasn't got a shining reputation, if you know what
I mean,' she said.

'That's awful,' said Tony. 'Poor Bella, she deserves
better. She's great, Sam,' he tried to explain. 'She remembers
birthdays, she sends gifts for no reason, she calls just
when Sera needs her and she's very sweet with the kids.
Oh, and did I mention she's outrageously gorgeous with
legs that go on forever?'

'Settle down, tiger!' Chantrea said, smiling. 'It's true
though, she is.'

'Then I hope things work out for her,' said Sam gallantly.
'She sounds like she could use a break.'