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“Would I what?”
“Love it? Not just Na
His father seems confused by the question, but then Tom realizes it’s not confusion he reads on his face; it’s disbelief.
“How could you ask me that, Tom? I’d give anything for you to want to come along with my father and me.”
Tom doesn’t ask which father Dominic’s talking about. It can’t be that confusing loving more than one.
At work the next day, Mohsin shows him the course he’s applied for at Sydney University.
“Hmm,” Tom says. “Molecular science. Sure you don’t want to aim higher?”
He goes online and finds himself looking at the deferment rules for the course he dropped out of two years ago. And then he sees the number 1 next to his in-box. Anabel’s at school camp, so it can’t be from her. He knows exactly who it’s from.
To: [email protected] /* */
From: [email protected] /* */
Date: 8 November 2007
Dear Tom,
I’ll tell you what I remember, seeing as you asked. That after we made love that night in my parents’ house, you asked me to get out of bed, naked. Remember how I felt? I mean we had just had sex, so that’s as intimate as I thought it got, but it’s fu
But then Joe happened, and you didn’t ring or anything. You didn’t let me see you exposed from all your pain. You hid and you left me there, starkers, and for so long, for so, so long, I felt raw. Don’t ever ask anyone to do that again, Tom. Don’t ever ask them to bare their soul and then leave it. It’s fucking cruel and no matter how much pain you were in, you had no right. Because sometimes it makes me want to shudder, because sometimes I still think I’m there in my bedroom standing naked, except it’s like the whole world can see me, and they’re laughing like sometimes I remember people laughing at me behind my back in high school. And it makes me just want to cry with shame.
She doesn’t sign it off and he doesn’t even give himself a moment to think.
To: [email protected] /* */
From: [email protected] /* */
Date: 8 November 2007
Dear Tara,
If you think I’ve forgotten anything about that night, you, most gorgeous girl, are laboring under a great misapprehension. I remember everything. I remember your petticoat . . . slip . . . whatever the hell it’s called, and how you let me take it off. You made me close my eyes and that was even more of a turn-on.
You’ve always seen through me and that’s freaked me out. You saw the stuff I didn’t show other people. The part of me that sometimes can be a bully, because I come from a family of it. Learned behavior because I think my dad was taught by Bill and Bill was taught by his father and sometimes I feel it inside me as well, except we’re not actually comfortablewith it, but it’s there and it frightens all of us. And that night you saw the fear. You made it go away for just one minute and then Joe happened and I couldn’t speak anymore and the numbness — please, God don’t ever let me feel that numbness again. I think I was scared that you wouldn’t be able to make the numbness go away and if my mum and dad and Anabel couldn’t, and then you couldn’t, I didn’t know whether I could handle that.
I know I stuffed up and I know your peacekeeper probably treated you like gold and I’ve treated you like crap, but I want you to know that I remember the conversations we had in Year Twelve, when you told me you wanted to do a cultural studies degree because you believed in trade, not aid, and you believed that the only way was to ask the questions and listen to the needs of the people and I remember thinking that exact moment, I want to change the world with her. And I remember feeling that again in Georgie’s attic. That’s a pretty powerful gift you have there, Ms. Finke. To make the laziest guy around want to change the world with you. So next time you remember standing in your bedroom naked, know that it is the most amazing view from any angle, especially the one where we get to see inside.
Love always,
Always,
Tom
Georgie’s water breaks during breakfast one morning. It’s all pretty calm. She just says, “This is it, kids,” and then she picks up her phone and texts Sam.
“You can’t send him a text telling him his baby is about to be born,” Tom argues, looking around for Na
“I don’t want to get into a phone conversation with him,” Georgie says. “He’ll ask really stupid questions and then we’ll get into an argument and I don’t want to be stressed.”
The phone beeps back.
“See,” she says, showing Tom the message. “Stupid question.”
It is a pretty stupid question, but Tom doesn’t give her the satisfaction of agreeing.
“I’m starting up the car,” Bill says, standing up.
“See?” she says again. “Starting up the car. Are we living in the mountains where it snows, Bill? Does the car need warming up? Or are we robbing a bank?”
Na
Deep down, Tom is really stressed. The women are not acting the way he thinks they should be acting.
“Bill, go outside and wait for Sam and warn him that Georgie doesn’t want to be stressed.”
“Why does everyone think that all of a sudden Sam’s going to act like he’s crazy?” Tom asks.
Outside, someone has their hand on the horn and doesn’t let up.
“Bill, go outside and tell Sam to get his hand off the horn,” Georgie says.
Tom thinks it’s a ridiculous idea that they walk. Apart from the fact that he will never get over the humiliation if she gives birth on Carillon Avenue in front of his ex-flatmates, and knowing Georgie, she’ll do that to spite him, he’s scared something’s going to go wrong and he just wants her in hospital as quick as possible.
It ends up a bit of a procession, like something out of those foreign movies where they have weddings or funerals tu
“Baby’s coming,” he explains to Sam’s kid, in case no one’s told him.
“How?”
“Sam?” Tom asks. Because he knows that Sam will be pragmatic and sensible without using the word vagina.
“I told you already, Callum,” Sam mumbles. There’s a very stressed look on his face, too. The whole walking thing isn’t working for him either.
Tom looks down at the kid. “What did he tell you?”
“A gift from God.”
Tom can’t believe that Sam would use such terminology. He actually thought Sam was an atheist. Sam gives Tom one of those threatening looks that promises a universe of pain if he says anything other than that.
“How old are you?” Tom asks the kid.
“Six.”
Tom nods. “A gift from God delivered by the angels.”
Georgie gives orders over her shoulder. “Tom, call your mother and Anabel and tell them what’s happened. They’ll want to be kept updated. Sam, you call Lucia and Abe.” They cross at the lights at Missenden Road.