‘Layla, someone’s here to see you!’ Ryan yells.
‘Who?’ I ask from the couch in our lounge room. No-one knows my new address. Not Milo, not even Dad.
‘It’s a lady,’ he calls out again. ‘Shareen someone.’
Shirin. How did she find me? It’s not that I’m hiding from her or Dad, not really; I’m just not looking for them. Not yet. Not before I’ve had a chance to sort a few things out. Mainly my head. And a job. And a new place. And my relationship. Fine, until I’ve sorted every single part of my life out.
Pizza boxes litter the coffee table. There’s a sock lying over the armchair and the room stinks of something indescribably bad. Not that I’m any better. My T-shirt has a toothpaste stain and holes down the side, and Kurt’s shorts hang loose on my hips. I’m not even wearing a bra.
I kick a pair of sneakers out of the way before walking to the door, arms crossed over my chest. Shirin scoops me into a hug before ‘Hey’ even escapes my mouth. She never gives any warning before squashing me against her body. Her hair is as jet-black and frizzy as ever and her hoop earrings seem to have tripled in size. The smell of whichever essential oils she’s slathered on clings to the inside of my nostrils.
Out of the corner of my eye, I see Ryan fetching his bong from the kitchen bench, so I block Shirin’s view.
‘So this is your home.’ She tries to peek over my shoulder. ‘Sure is an interesting neighbourhood, hon. There was a woman cutting her toenails on the corner of Miller and Doyle.’
‘Yeah, it’s great,’ I lie, relieved she didn’t bump into the man who usually frequents that corner. ‘So … how’d you find me? I mean, the place?’
‘Kurt, of course.’ Of course. ‘I bumped into him at the bottle shop yesterday after coffee with my reflexology group, and he invited me around. He mentioned you were keen for us to have some time together.’
‘He did?’
‘It’s okay, hon. Everyone grieves in their own way. I found that out when my mum died years ago.’
I freeze, too in shock to reply, but Shirin doesn’t notice. She’s content filling the air with the sound of her own voice.
‘My heart aches for you. It does. Five whole years without that beautiful woman.’
I manage to tilt my head forward, barely a nod but close enough. I’m going to destroy Kurt one limb at a time for dragging Shirin into this.
But Shirin’s not done. She clutches her hand to her chest, playing with the long strands of beads draped around her neck. ‘I’m just so relieved you felt like you could reach out to me. Finally. I mean, your dad and I are always here for you, always have been, but now … you believe it. I was hoping for a coffee date, something like that, but this … this is such a step forward. And me being a goose, I was just sitting at home doing a puzzle, alone of course ’cos your dad’s off again, you know how fly-in-fly-out is, and I thought, bugger it, today’s the day. I’m going to see her.’ She releases a shaky laugh. ‘Listen to me, rabbiting on.’
I can barely take in what she’s saying. ‘If I knew you were coming I’d have … ah, dressed up more. Sorry.’ I fold my arms tighter to try to hide the stain. ‘Maybe we should reschedule to a better time … for you?’
‘Oh poo, I didn’t call ahead ’cos I didn’t want you to make a fuss. I’ve got everything. Nail polishes, eye masks, the works.’ That’s when I notice the esky and the hessian bag of crackers and chips at her feet. ‘You hungry? I’ve got enough food in here to feed the house. Kurt mentioned it’s a bit of a zoo now there’s five of you under one roof.’
That’s one way to put it.
‘Reckon I can pop the brie in the fridge?’
Crap. I glance behind me into the house. Ryan’s nowhere to be seen. ‘Um …’
‘It’s fine, hon. A little mess won’t bother me. I remember what it’s like to be young.’
Before I have a chance to think of an excuse — a headache, unshakeable plans, moving to Mars — Shirin bustles inside, announcing she’s putting together her world-famous platter. She’s spitting with excitement.
Right on cue Ryan wanders past, cracks open the salt and vinegar chips, takes a handful, and mutters that he’ll leave us to it.
Double crap.
* * *
Kurt looks at me from the bedroom doorway in the way he always does when he wants to kiss me. Eyes half-closed, lips curled up. The laziest of smirks.
‘Place looks awesome, babe. Did ya tidy up out there?’
I swallow. I’ve been practising my speech since Shirin left, but I’ve forgotten every word. ‘It’s good, isn’t it? Shirin helped. When she was here today. Shirin was here today.’
There’s a silence so wide, so deep, I might sink into it.
‘Oh yeah?’
He’s playing dumb and I’m having none of it. ‘Don’t do that. Don’t pretend you’re innocent.’
He folds his arms across his chest. ‘Fine, I saw her, she asked about ya mum. What was I meant to do?’
‘Not invite her around?’ My voice breaks, giving away that I’m more upset than pissed off. ‘I was blindsided. You know Boxing Day was a nightmare! Sunday was just … and then today … it’s impossible. You keep pushing me.’
Kurt comes over to the bed and sits down next to me. ‘You’re right. But this is hard for me too.’
I swallow. ‘Meaning?’
‘Meaning … I dunno.’ He shrugs. ‘Look, let me make ya feel better, babe.’
He kisses my collarbone, moving upwards to my right earlobe. I squirm and he pulls back, rejected. Up close, I can see his eyes are stained red. I can taste smoke on his breath.
‘What’s wrong? On ya period?’
‘What? No. I’m just not feeling it. Today sucked.’
‘Yeah, but I’m trying to help ya forget that.’ He’s barely blinking.
‘I know, but … this is about me, not you.’
‘Don’t remind me.’ He sighs, then grabs his pillow and heads for the door. It’s so familiar. ‘Bit hot in here. I’m gonna enjoy the lounge room before we mess it up again.’
‘You’re not going to smoke any more tonight, are you?’
‘Nah, babe. I’ll be in soon. Promise.’
* * *
The sky burns fairy-floss pink the next morning. I watch the sun hanging low, willing it to move. All I want is to feel a little magic for a second, like I used to as a kid. Mum used to tell me that fairies helped the sun to rise by hoisting it into the sky pull after pull, using nothing but threads of gold and enchanted dust. I believed her. But the sun doesn’t budge, of course.
I smile to myself. Maybe the fairies are on strike today.
I pause at the front door to adjust my shorts and pull up the sock that’s slipping down the back of my Cons. Kurt is splayed on the couch fully clothed, shoes on, drool on the pillow.
I tiptoe back to our bedroom, flinching at the creaky floorboards. Everything, from the chest of drawers to the carpet, looks like it needs a clean — everything except the whiteboard. It’s spotless. Gone are the scribblings, the sweet notes, the dirty jokes. I don’t even remember which of us wiped them away.
I scrawl, Gone out, might be a while. Text me if you need the car, Lx, in big loopy letters.
It’s only when I reach the front door again and steal another look at Kurt that I realise the ashtray on the coffee table is filled with stubs, all within his reach.
I slip out the front door, car keys digging into my palm, and welcome the warmth on my skin.