TWENTY FOUR
When I woke up and remembered what had happened on my wedding day, I wanted to go straight back to sleep. Bright sunshine filtering through the gaps in the curtains and a resurgence of painful memories made this impossible. I had to get up and do something.
In the kitchen I padded across the lino to the fridge. There was no milk for cereal so I threw on some tracksuit pants and my Monash Uni windcheater and headed off to the milk bar. Even though it was a mild summer morning, something made me want to wear a hood.
Life was still going on around me. The owner of the front unit was snipping dead roses. Two ten-year-olds whizzed past on bikes. A garage sale was attracting neighbourly interest; the footpath up ahead was cluttered with old crockery and boxes of vinyl records. I took care to step around the display and to ignore a very beautiful, emaciated young couple sitting on a rusty swing set in the front garden.
It was the second Sunday of December, and contrary to expectation I was alone and unmarried. I still had a boyfriend, though. Or absurdly, I felt like I did.
When I got home I cleaned out my letterbox. I’d forgotten to check it on Friday, and yesterday I was way too flustered to think about mail. There was a small parcel in the box and a telephone bill hiding underneath. I turned the parcel over and saw that the sender was Tracy Breeze. The real one this time? The handwriting was round and childish, just like Tracy’s.
Indoors I tore open the parcel and pulled out a card and two gifts wrapped in hot pink tissue paper. Judging from their shape, one of these was a slim book and the other a narrow vase or a box of Pick-Up-Sticks. I decided to read the card first.
Dear Beth,
Sorry about my slow reply. Rich and I have been in Broken Hill doing some community work. We’re back home now and I received your wedding invitation belatedly. Needless to say I’m thrilled for you and Jordan. And we’d love to come to your wedding. As this parcel might take a few days to arrive, I will ring Jordan and let him know we are coming. Enclosed is NOT a wedding present. It’s something in memory of our time at school. I’ve saved a lot of knickknacks from the past, and I couldn’t help wanting to let this one go. Cheeky, I know. It’s yours for keeps, and so is the person concerned. I also include a book you lent me in Grade Five. Mum found it when she was cleaning out my room. It’s got your name in it, and she said I should hurry up and return it. So thanks for the super-long loan!
Have a great day on Saturday. See you there.
Love from
Tracy
The book was Second Form at Mallory Towers, by Enid Blyton. In primary school Mallory Towers was my favourite children’s series. I flicked through the pages. Ah yes, there was Darrell Rivers, and her best friend Sally Hope, a closed-up girl who keeps to herself.
So what was the other gift? Nervously I unpeeled the sticky tape. Inside the soft pink paper was a cold metal object. I would never have expected this. What was the point? Tracy had given me one of the relay batons she had trained with at Mornington Grammar. The cylinder was well used, and some of the gold coating had rubbed off. I twisted it around in my hands. It was the baton with Jordan’s name etched into it.
Slowly I understood the symbolism of the gift. Tracy was giving me Jordan. Far from having a dig at me, this was actually a thoughtful and generous gift. Well, I had a baton now, but as of yesterday I still didn’t know how to use it. I was a slouch when it came to baton transfers. I’d never been a baton-changer and I would never be one in the future.
I ran to answer the phone, clutching at my bruised heart. But it was only Cherie. She was relieved I was still alive. She’d rung me three times already today.
‘I woke up at ten-thirty,’ I explained. ‘And I’ve been out shopping since.’
Her news was practical plus. She’d caught Jordan checking out of the hotel earlier this morning. She had waylaid him to discuss a few things, organising for him to call in at my place as soon as he could. ‘We packed the luggage you left in your hotel room, and lots of other things that I thought you might like. No sense leaving them for the hotel staff to enjoy. As for your wedding dress and presents, I’ll hold onto them for the time being, if you don’t mind.’
‘Jordan’s coming here?’ I could hardly believe it.
‘He volunteered,’ she explained. ‘He insisted, in fact. He’s terribly upset about yesterday. So maybe you two can work
things out?’
Unflappable Cherie to the rescue.
I didn’t have long to wait. Twenty minutes later a vehicle came rolling down my driveway. From the lounge room I spied Angus’s dusty brown station wagon. Jordan parked in front of my garage and got out. Where was his jaunty gait today? Was he ever carrying a weight on his shoulders!
I unsnibbed the front wire door and ducked back into the kitchen to conceal Tracy’s package.
Jordan entered, his face hidden behind a tub of flowers. He carried the plants from Lenny’s nursery inside, one by one, keeping his face screened. He’s being a tree, I thought, just as I did in primary school when I lost my dad.
The floor of my lounge room was awash with white roses.
‘If you’re able to stay a while, I’ll make coffee,’ I offered in a croaky voice.
Jordan didn’t respond. He kept slowly and deliberately coming and going from the car, bringing in boxes and bags. The kitchen table was crammed with leftovers from the banquet. Finally his delivery job was complete and we had to acknowledge each other. ‘Thanks for all these things,’ I said, gesturing to the loaded table.
Our eyes met and veered away. I proffered the percolator and Jordan gave a nod of assent and sat down in his usual chair. So we would have some reparation time.
I rinsed two mugs and put the sugar bowl on the table.
Jordan presented a chummy veneer. ‘Well, we missed getting married by this much,’ he said, leaning forward and holding his thumb and pointer finger a centimetre apart.
‘Was it that much of a close shave?’ I asked dryly, holding my emotions in.
He frowned and then said sharply, ‘Why did you run away?’
My chest tensed. ‘Judy said she’d heard the wedding was off.’
Jordan threw up his hands. ‘I was waiting to hear from you, that’s all. What a stuff-up.’
I felt dizzy and sat down. I said nothing for a while. So Judy had misled me. In the end Tracy, the girl I liked most, had treated me better. There must be a home truth in that.
I swallowed hard. ‘Why didn’t you come up to our room? I saw you in the beer garden. I was going crazy waiting for you to come up.’
He shrugged. ‘Things got pretty hectic for a while. People were turning up late with all sorts of requests. Rosa said she couldn’t wait any longer, so I went upstairs to see if you were ready and willing. I had no idea where you’d gone. When Angus noticed your car was missing all hell broke loose. I got Cherie to tell the guests there’d been a misunderstanding and there might be a delay. I never imagined you’d go home, though.’
It was nice to hear that Jordan had protected my reputation, even after being horribly let down.
The coffee pot was bubbling dry. I got up, nearly tripping over some loose lino as I hurried to the stove.
I poured the coffee and sat down again.
Jordan put his elbows on the table and cupped his cheeks. ‘People were pretty blasé about the cancellation, actually. My folks were disappointed but they weren’t angry. Some people thought we were way too young to be getting married – Uncle Lionel said it was a magnificent act of circumspection on our part. Imagine that, Beth! None of the guests held us to blame. I swear they didn’t. You can ask Cherie if you don’t believe me. They all loved the free booze and the music. You should have seen them letting loose on the dance floor. All those red faces and sweaty bodies – you wouldn’t have known it wasn’t a real wedding party.’
Our salubrious guests were probably trying to make Jordan feel better about my gutless disappearing act.
‘Even your mum and dad had a teary dance together. I know – I was sure you wouldn’t believe me. And guess what? When I left the hotel this morning they were sitting down to breakfast together. I couldn’t eat a thing myself, but their plates were piled with bacon and eggs and tomatoes. Hey, but your father was in a bad way last night, Beth. I felt pretty sorry for him. Imagine flying all that way for nothing.’
Well, bully for him.
‘He went up to bed early. I let him sleep in the second bedroom of the Bayview Room.’
Jordan stared bravely at the rim of his coffee mug. I noticed his split lip had healed.
‘It was a shame you weren’t with us, Beth. At midnight some of us went down to the beach for a smoke and a skinny dip.’
‘What about that big storm that passed through?’
‘What storm? We didn’t get a drop of rain all night. You know what they say about the climate south of Arthurs Seat.’
I was jabbing at the sugar in the bowl with my teaspoon to soften the hard lumps.
Jordan continued, ‘By the way, Mish found your letter blowing around the dunes. I had a little chat to Tracy about the handwriting on the envelope.’
‘Binny wrote it, didn’t she?’ I said.
‘How did you guess? I would never have suspected Bin.’
That’d be right. Jordan never saw the defects in people.
I explained. ‘She was the person most hurt by your feelings for Tracy and your feelings for me. So she paid us all back.’
Jordan was keen to shoulder some of the blame himself. ‘I should have been more careful with her.’
‘Did she admit to it?’ I retorted.
‘Tracy said she buggered off earlier in the day. It must have got too hot for her to handle.’
How come he was making excuses for the wedding-wrecker? But then I was also benefiting from his accommodating nature.
Jordan took his mug to the sink. When he turned around he looked both dejected and excited at the same time. ‘Well, Rosa did us a final favour,’ he began. ‘She left me the certificates and told me to post them back to her if we made up our minds to go ahead.’ He raised his eyebrows questioningly. ‘They’re outside in Gus’s glove box if you want to have a look?’
I would have given anything to take back yesterday, but that wasn’t as straightforward as it sounded. It was like asking someone who’d been burnt in a house fire to walk back through the smoking embers to retrieve a wedding ring.
Jordan rested against the kitchen bench and jammed his fingers into his tight front pockets.
‘You acted on impulse yesterday and didn’t think through the consequences. But we could get married today, if you still want?’
A wedding without any kind of ceremony? Well, that would be a first.
My spirits were buoyed, but not because I wanted marriage.
It was because Jordan was treating me the same as ever. He was remarkable. He was so unlike me.
‘Certainly not before next weekend,’ I responded.
Jordan would assume I was still hedging my bets.
He yawned and began opening the boxes and plastic bags on the table.
‘Actually, I’m not sure I could go there so soon myself.’
The lemon tarts instantly whetted my appetite. In addition Jordan unpacked plateloads of salmon mousse and a selection of main courses, enough to provide us with a sumptuous lunch. After all, the food had to be eaten, and yesterday’s fast had given me both an appetite and a justification to gorge myself.
Some post-meal exercise was in order, so at his suggestion I put on my straw hat and we walked down the street as if we were still great friends. We stopped for the lights and bells at the level crossing and then strolled down to the bay. On the beach neither of us wanted to hold hands, or chat, or even dabble our toes. Yet we turned in the same direction on cue and began walking towards the city. We ended up walking for miles. Rehydrating at yet another dribbling water fountain, I pondered, ‘Why do they almost never spurt?’
The further we walked, the more falsely optimistic did I become. As my toes blistered and the soles of my feet burned, my desire to reach the ends of the earth expanded. Neither of us dared speak of turning back. Eventually we’d have to find a station and catch a train home. How fortunate that it was a Sunday and trains were few and far between. I pictured us waiting in the shade at Mentone station for a very delayed train. My nerves might fret but my heart knew Jordan wouldn’t bundle me into a taxi, as I deserved, and cut our time together short. And when he joked, ‘What say we walk all the way to St Kilda, Beths?’, I succumbed to the pull of the feathery dunes.