On account of the Riesling Aida had shared with Elsie at tea, Aida was already tipping slightly away from sober when there was a knock at the front door.
It was one of those delightful Friday evenings, the air pleasantly warm and sweet with summer. It was so delightful, in fact, that they were eating tea with the side door wide open, to let in the refreshing air.
Aida, Thomas, Elsie and the kids had almost finished tea when they heard the knocking.
Millie said, ‘I’ll get it,’ and jumped up.
Elsie glanced at the clock and frowned. ‘I thought Jenny wasn’t picking you up until seven thirty?’
Millie shrugged. ‘She might be early.’
Arthur said, ‘I want to go bowling too.’
Millie gave her brother a withering look.
Aida, last forkful of pumpkin halfway to her mouth, paused as the sound of an unfamiliar man’s voice murmured from the front door. Then came the sound of a woman’s voice, more familiar.
‘It’s Mrs Scott,’ Millie cried.
And so it was on that convivial Friday evening as the seventies came to a close that Sara Scott stood at their front door with an unfamiliar fellow, an armful of Nobby’s salted peanuts and an esky full of Victoria Bitter.
Aida stood, hurried around the table and crossed the lounge room. ‘What a surprise!’ she said, hugging Sara and kissing her cheek. ‘Bloody hell, you haven’t changed at all. And it’s been what, five years?’
‘Six!’ said Sara. She stood in a cloud of perfume, wearing a red mini-dress with long sleeves. Her hair was fluffed big and blow-waved back from her face. Six years ago Sara and her six children had moved out of the house across the street, and disappeared somewhere up in the north-west – to one of those placid fishing towns with a sun-crisped caravan park and a jetty that disappears into the eye-hurtingly blue sea.
Aida said, ‘And who’s this?’
‘Theodore Butler,’ the man said, giving Aida’s hand a lively shake. ‘Call me Teddy.’
‘My fiancé,’ said Sara, beaming. ‘Thanks to no-fault divorce.’
Teddy, in his early fifties, had weathered skin and dark brown eyes. Black hair, lined with silver, sat upon his head like a glossy upturned bowl. He wore a snug yellow t-shirt and brown bell-bottom pants tight enough to leave few secrets between them all.
‘Congratulations,’ Aida said, as Elsie and Thomas appeared behind her. Introductions were made, and Aida gently removed herself from the centre of the circle.
‘Look at us,’ Sara said. ‘We’ve interrupted your tea.’
‘Not at all,’ Elsie insisted. ‘Come, sit. Are you moving back?’ Lines of conversation rose up and fussed around each other as Elsie morphed into host and ushered the unexpected visitors into the kitchen: where they were staying in town, that they were only here for the weekend, how nice it was to be back in Gawler, and yes they would love something to drink, thank you very much.
‘Sorry to barge in unannounced,’ Sara was saying, ‘but it’s such a nice evening. Teddy asked if I had any local friends, and he insisted we come for a visit.’ She gave a slightly embarrassed laugh. As Aida took the bags of nuts and potato chips from her hands, Sara winked at her.
‘I knew I’d find you here. Been a while, huh?’
Aida smiled and nodded.
The light held and held in the sky as though it was reluctant to see the day end, and there was nothing for the gregarious promise of the evening but to move outdoors. Folding chairs were taken out onto the lawn with the esky and there came the crack-fizz of bottle-tops removed while Aida, in the kitchen, poured peanuts and potato chips into bowls. Arthur was complaining that Millie got to go bowling while he had to stay home with the boring adults.
‘How come she can go wherever she wants?’ Arthur said.
‘Because she’s almost sixteen,’ Aida replied. ‘And you’re only nine.’ She tossed a peanut into her mouth and eyed the scene in the backyard, where Sara’s fiancé appeared to be telling a joke of an indelicate nature. Thomas gave a shout of laughter; Elsie covered her face with her hands and Sara slapped Teddy’s chest in a mock rebuke with the back of her hand.
‘That’s not fair,’ Arthur huffed.
‘I get it, kiddo.’
‘No, you don’t.’ Scowling, he crossed his arms and with his toe gave a chair a tentative shove. A prod at a boundary.
Aida lifted her eyebrows. ‘What would you like me to do about it?’
‘Can I have some ice cream?’
Aida looked at the unwashed plates on the sink. ‘You didn’t finish all your dinner.’
‘Yeah, because they got here,’ he whined. ‘So now I can’t do what I want at all.’
‘It’s not bed time yet, you can do whatever you want,’ Aida said. ‘You just can’t have sweets or go bowling with your sister.’
Arthur glared at her. ‘Can I watch TV then?’
To this request, on top of his whining, Elsie or Thomas would have said no. They would have said that letting him watch TV was only rewarding bad behaviour. But right now, Aida wanted to go outside. She wanted to sit with her friends. Being an authoritarian to an irked nine-year-old was furthest from her desires right now. And with the way Arthur was glowering at her, she could sense the tantrum lurking not far below the surface; she could foresee the shouted, You’re not my mum! that almost every non-biological care-giver had heard, yet that felt, to Aida, like a scalpel to her flesh.
‘All right, go watch TV.’
Satisfied with the prospect of the new colour television all to himself, Arthur ran off into the lounge room.
Aida went outside. Out in the open air, the chairs were arranged in a circle with the esky and a card table in the centre. Aida set the snacks on the table. Thomas was sitting next to Elsie, leaning back in his chair with his elbows propped on the armrests, a stubbie cradled at his chest. Elsie sipped her beer neatly, setting it down on the grass between mouthfuls. Sara had butted her chair up to Teddy’s and she leaned across onto his shoulder; stretched out upon the esky, her bare legs were presented like a sacrificial offering for mosquitoes. Aida took the remaining spare chair next to Sara, who offered her a cigarette. She accepted and lit up gratefully, exhaling blue smoke towards the sky.
‘So, Aida, you live there?’ Teddy pointed next door.
‘That’s me,’ Aida said, looking over. Above the fence the window tops were black. In the dying light the house looked unoccupied and Aida wanted to go over and turn the lights on. She prepared herself for the spiel of a widow, but was pleasantly surprised when Teddy didn’t raise the issue of a husband at all.
‘Nice neighbours,’ Teddy observed with a grin.
Aida nodded and dragged on her cigarette.
‘Our neighbours are bastards, aren’t they, babe? Noisy sons of bitches, arguing into the night. Throwing things, slamming doors. He drinks like a bloody fish,’ he added, as though that explained everything, ‘but so does she.’
‘Stole my underwear,’ Sara said.
‘Your underwear?’ said Aida.
Sara nodded, squinting against smoke in her eyes. ‘Yep, took them right off the washing line. I’ve lost more pairs of undies than I can count.’ As she lifted one leg to slap at a mosquito, a flash of dark underwear showed as if to illustrate her point.
‘Have you been to the police?’ Elsie looked scandalised, whether at the underwear theft or display Aida couldn’t tell. She stifled a bubble of laughter.
‘Nah,’ Sara said. ‘Coppers aren’t interested in my duds.’
‘Not in that way, anyway,’ Teddy said. He slapped the armrest of Thomas’s chair for consensus.
Aida swigged the last mouthful of her beer and reached for another. The stars pricked into the sky above them and cockatoos quarrelled like old ladies over their roosts in the gums. No one, it seemed, was inclined to entertain any notion of ending another day by heading quietly off to bed. Even Arthur wasn’t keen to go to bed until Elsie had disappeared inside and read aloud from his favourite Biggles book for twenty minutes.
When Arthur was asleep, and Millie had phoned asking for permission to stay the night at Jenny’s, Thomas opened a bottle of port and offered it around.
It wasn’t long after that when things started to get weird.
*
‘I don’t believe you’re nearly forty,’ Teddy said to Elsie. ‘No, I don’t believe it.’
Elsie was laughing. ‘I can show you some ID if you like.’
‘But you don’t look a day over twenty-five!’ He sat forward in his chair so vehemently the last of his port flew up in droplets from his glass and spattered onto his yellow t-shirt. His disbelief at Elsie’s age seemed so genuine Aida thought he might actually take Elsie up on her offer to present identification.
‘And you.’ He turned to Aida, port glass dangling from his hand, ‘You’re also a picture of youth.’
‘Gee, thanks, Ted.’ Aida lit another cigarette with the butt of her last one. ‘Aren’t you the charmer.’
Sara put a clammy hand on Aida’s forearm and leaned in conspiratorially. ‘Oh, he can turn it on, all right.’ Her breath was beery and humid in Aida’s ear. Drunk, Sara swung away in the other direction.
‘No doubt,’ Aida muttered to herself.
That’s when Teddy, grinning widely, levelled a finger at Thomas and said, ‘What a lucky, lucky prick you are.’
Thomas looked taken aback. ‘Yes,’ he said. ‘My wife is wonderful.’
‘She’s a beaut,’ said Teddy, ‘and you’ve got another stunner right across your backyard. Not even a whistle away.’
Thomas eyed him warily.
‘You guys heard of that actor, going out with those two sisters?’
Aida said brightly, ‘Should I get some more nuts?’
Teddy went on, ‘Sweet set-up going on there, if you ask me.’
‘Oh, Ted,’ Sara spoke up. ‘No one’s asking you.’
‘Nah, hear me out.’ He held up his hands. ‘They have what he reckons is called an open relationship. Open, right? As in, it’s not locked down. Not exclusive to two people – same old, same old, day in and day out. Instead, they spread the love around. And no one gets all possessive and jealous. They embrace the sharing.’
Sara gave a nervous laugh. ‘Ted –’
‘Variety, right? Keeps you interested, keeps you healthy. I don’t reckon we’re made for the same old bacon sandwich for years on end.’ He leaned back, crossing his hands behind his head with a grin. ‘And it’s the seventies, you know, man? It doesn’t have to be only two people. When there’s a party, there’s room for more.’
There was a long moment of silence. The high-pitched sonar of a bat zapped from overhead. A dog barked in the distance.
Teddy lowered his hand now onto Sara’s pale thigh. In the darkness her bare legs, long and folded over themselves, looked creamy and luminous.
Teddy said, ‘It’s all cool.’ Still looking at Thomas, he slipped his fingers beneath the hem of Sara’s dress.
Aida thought, oh, boy. She saw Elsie’s eyes widen and Thomas looked stumped.
Fondling Sara’s thigh, Teddy put his free hand into his pocket and fumbled around. Something jangled as he withdrew his hand. He leaned forward and into the empty, salty peanut bowl, he dropped his keys.
He sat back and grinned. ‘Isn’t that how it goes?’
Aida silently choked.
Thomas, baffled and outraged, looked as though someone had stolen his underwear from the washing line.
Elsie, wide-eyed, said, ‘What’s wrong with bacon sandwiches?’
*
Sara and her fiancé left shortly after. The evening was still warm as the tail-lights of their car faded down the street.
When a wedding invitation arrived in the mail a few weeks later, there were two separate invitations inserted into one envelope: one to Mr and Mrs Thomas Mullet, the other to Aida + guest. While Thomas arranged to send a brand new Sunbeam kettle as a gift, all three respectfully declined to attend.
And that was the last they ever heard of Sara Scott.