TERRIBLY CARELESS

‘Can you please tell me what day it is?’ Caddy felt awfully stupid calling reception to find out which day it was, but she couldn’t think of any other way.

‘Today is Tuesday, ma’am. Would you like the date as well?’

‘No, thank you.’ She hung up.

She remembered two baths and three lots of room service. No massage. It didn’t seem to add up to Tuesday, but the man on reception probably knew what he was talking about. Caddy didn’t feel in the least bit well enough to be back at Newell, with the no air conditioning, the foam mattress under a tarpaulin roof (no trademarked name for that bed as yet), her one pillow, her one oat bar for breakfast if she was damn lucky. Maybe there was a way to steal Farren from his wife? Oh wait, Ray had some kind of plan along those lines already, right?

Instead of a bath, Caddy had a long, hot shower. She filled her pockets with what was left of the soap, shampoo, cotton buds, shoe polish, tea bags, instant coffee bags. There wasn’t enough room in her pockets, so she took the plastic bag they left for you to put your shoes in if you wanted them shined, and filled that as well. It was a bit embarrassing, but a girl’s got to live. She saw there were chocolates on the table in front of the television, so she went down from the mezzanine bedroom to grab them too. On her way past the window she looked out. Beyond the railway line the river ran swollen between broken banks, tumbling chunks of debris over and over in its churning waters.

‘Oh shit.’

Caddy packed the last of her haul in under three minutes, checked under the bed to make sure she hadn’t left anything behind and was about to pull the door behind her when she remembered the minibar. She emptied that too, grabbed the key card from the slot beside the door and headed downstairs to check out.

‘Did you make any phone calls, ma’am?’

‘I think I made two, but one was to a dead person so maybe that doesn’t count.’

The receptionist said nothing, merely checked the computer. ‘Ah yes, one call. And did you take anything from the minibar?’

‘Everything.’

‘Would you like us to send a member of staff up to check that, or should I just deduct the total from your credit card?’

‘Deduct away.’

After carefully reading whatever came up on the computer screen, the receptionist searched the pigeonholes and came up with the credit card. ‘I see that’s to go on Mr West’s account.’ He smiled at her. ‘Thank you for staying at the Grand, ma’am. We hope you enjoyed your time with us.’

‘I certainly did.’

‘Would you like me to call you a car?’

‘Thank you, no. I’ll walk.’

She stepped through the revolving door and back into the heat of the street.

Ray had given her the forty dollars he’d owed her, and Farren had given her another fifty, which was a little gross and also suggested he didn’t really believe Ray’s story about her being his sister, but was also pretty damn handy. She walked a decent distance from the hotel’s front door, round the corner, and raised her hand. A group of boys playing cards and smoking on the footpath leapt up.

‘Where do you want to go?’ the first one to get to her asked, pulling his key from his pocket and his cap down low on his head.

‘Newell Paddock, please.’

‘I don’t think we can get down there.’

Caddy felt panic, cleared her throat and tried to act cool. ‘The flood?’

‘Yup.’

‘Where’s the closest?’

‘I think up at the corner of Racecourse and Epsom is still clear. I’ll get you through there, for sure,’ he grinned with bravado.

‘OK. What do you want?’

‘Five dollars.’

Caddy made to walk away, over to the rest of the group of boys.

‘OK, OK, four dollars.’

‘Four dollars? You’re kidding right. That’s a one dollar ride.’

‘The place is swarming with cops. You think I have a licence?’

‘No, of course not. Look, anyone hassles you, I’ll deal with it.’

‘That’s fine on the way there, what happens if someone pulls me over on the way back?’

Caddy sighed and tugged on the end of a strand of hair. ‘OK, three.’

‘Three fifty.’

‘No way!’

‘OK, three, but anyone hassles me and it’s your problem, alright?’

‘I already said that, didn’t I?’

‘No need to lose your cool, lady.’

‘Can we just go?’ Caddy’s bones were throbbing and her head felt like blood was about to start pouring out of it again.

The boy straddled his bike and waited for her to get on, fired it up and they headed off down Spencer.

He was right about the cops. Barricades started springing up around the bottom of Macaulay Hill, but the boy took a few side streets and they made it through to Racecourse and Epsom. He dropped her off around the corner from a group of cops; it looked like there were a few UN troops milling around too.

‘There you go. Can’t go no further.’

‘Thanks. Hey look, sorry I was rude before. I didn’t realize it was so bad. Take four dollars.’

‘Thanks miss,’ he smiled. ‘Do you want me to wait for you?’

‘No. My home’s down there. Don’t think I’ll be coming back.’

He passed her back her change. ‘There’s nothing down there anymore.’ The boy looked seriously concerned.

‘Even more reason not to come back,’ Caddy said. She couldn’t be bothered trying to make him feel better.

‘Are you sure? I’ll take you back now, no extra charge.’

‘No. Thank you. I need to go take a look.’

‘Well, good luck.’

‘Thanks.’

He twisted his bike around and headed back down the hill.

Caddy tried to look nonchalant, a hillsider rubber necker with her bag from The Grand. She had to find a gap in the barricade. It didn’t take long – however seriously the forces had taken the flood when it first happened, they were now pretty much concentrating on the Racecourse, stopping muggers from getting into the Members area and leaving the everyday people to their own devices. She slid a little in the mud as she headed downhill, trying to get over near the abandoned tennis courts for a better look. As soon as she was around the corner, though, she knew she didn’t need a better look – it was all gone, the river had taken even the tennis courts, grown to about four times its usual width, making a lake of the paddock and pouring through the handrails of the bridge she’d planned to walk over.

She pulled her wallet out of her pocket. The picture of Harry was still in there, at least. Her notebook came out with it and fell on the ground, open where she’d last been writing.

Simon would always try to turn the video off before that bit, before he said ‘128 years’. He’d hit ‘stop’, then ‘rewind’. Then he’d go to the bathroom, comb his hair for a while. Or he’d watch TV for a minute, five minutes, ten. Act all nonchalant, you know? And then, after a while, he’d say, ‘Man, there’s never anything on. Oh well, might as well …’ and he’d hit ‘play’. He’d hit ‘play’ and he’d try to stop it before his dad said ‘128 years’. And then sometimes, when he went out to walk around, smoke a joint, I’d hit ‘play’ again, watch it all the way through before he got back.

‘… finish this thing, because we’ve done the calculations and we understand it’s going to be 128 years from start to finish, this project – we want to know the job’s been done properly. No shortcuts, you understand. No shortcuts.’

Caddy closed the notebook, ran down as close to the edge of the water as she could, and threw it overarm into the waves.

So that was it. She had $86 in her pocket, plus a bunch of stuff she could probably sell to the kids down at Peira’s and that was all. Wiped out again. Even her stupid motorbike was gone before she had a chance to fix it. At least there hadn’t been anyone she cared about in her humpy.

There were UN troops down there. She could see them pulling bodies from under the bridge, long poles with hooks on the end. Maybe one of those bodies was Mukhtar. There was no way of knowing from here. She felt terrible, and terribly tired. She lay back on the footpath and closed her eyes.

‘You can’t stay here, miss.’ It was a UN soldier. She hoped for a second that it was that Indian guy – the sun was behind his head and she couldn’t make out his face – but he kept talking and it obviously wasn’t. ‘Are you alright? Do you need someone to take you to the hospital?’

‘No. I’m fine.’

‘Then you’ll have to leave.’

‘Why don’t you leave? That’s my house down there. I live here. Where do you live?’

‘I don’t live anywhere, miss. My town ran out of water and I had to move away. Now your house is gone too.’

‘Maybe I should go join the UN.’ Caddy stared at him, but she couldn’t really see his expression and after a while she felt uncomfortable and looked down. He noticed the sun was in her face, and squatted down next to her.

‘Are you really OK?’ he asked.

Caddy didn’t answer. ‘You know this is the second house I’ve lost?’

‘I think once you lose one it just gets harder and harder to hold on to houses.’

‘What was that they used to say about parents?’

‘You mean, to lose one parent is unlucky; to lose two is sheer carelessness? Something like that,’ he said. He had an American accent.

‘Something like that. Do you have parents?’

‘No, I was terribly careless.’

‘Yeah, me too. Was it meant to be like this? It’s very tiring.’

‘Maybe a good, square meal would sort you out. Are you unwell?’

‘I have dengue fever.’

‘I had that, when we were posted in Norway.’

‘Norway? No way! Are things really that bad?’

‘I’m afraid so.’

‘Oh.’ Caddy sunk her head onto her knees. ‘Is there anything we can do?’

‘Not any more. We just have to make the best of it.’

‘I don’t really know what kind of best there is left in all this.’

‘No.’

‘I don’t know why I’m complaining. You’re the one pulling bodies out of the river.’

‘I guess you’re complaining because everything is pretty much shit.’

‘I guess.’

‘Come with me.’ The soldier held out a hand to Caddy. She picked up her bag from The Grand with one hand, and put her other in his. He helped her up and led her down to tents the soldiers had pitched along the edge of the Racecourse.

‘Sit here for a moment,’ he said. ‘If anyone asks, say you’re with Sergeant Fisk.’

He walked away between the tents and she lost sight of him. She was going to lay back on the ground again, but she didn’t want anyone to notice her. Better to act normal.

Sergeant Fisk was soon back.

‘Here, take these.’ He handed her four packets of prepacked army rations. ‘They look dull, but they taste pretty good and they’re very high energy. They’ll help you feel better. And these,’ he pulled a slender cardboard box from his pocket, ‘are army issue pain killers. They’ll bring down the fever and ease the headache.’

‘Thank you.’

‘Do you have somewhere you can go?’

‘I can find somewhere,’ she said. ‘I know people.’

‘Alright. I’ll really have to ask you to leave now then. We need to get the Racecourse secured.’

‘Got to keep the hillsiders safe and happy, hey? Clear up the bodies before Saturday’s races?’

‘Well, they are the ones paying our wages.’

‘Of course. Thanks. And hey, if I can ever help you out, ask for me up at Sunny Internet, this end of Racecourse Road. Caddy Jalibeel.’

‘Caddy?’

‘Yeah. It’s short for Caroline. I don’t like Caroline.’

‘Y’know, I met a girl called Caddy once. Not a common name, is it?’

‘Not that common. I haven’t met any others myself. Was she nice? Good looking?’

‘Ah, I can’t say we got on that well.’

‘Mean and good looking?’ she said. ‘I’ll drink to that.’

Those were some serious dimples he had. ‘OK Caddy, I might just look you up then.’

‘Sorry, it’s silly, isn’t it? How could I help you out; no home, no money …’

‘Maybe you could show me around. I hardly know this place, and we’ve been here eight weeks now.’

‘Sure, maybe I could.’ Caddy smiled at him. He was older than she’d thought at first. ‘Thank you.’

‘You said that. Rest up, OK?’

‘OK.’

He gave her a half salute and strolled back down to the river, not looking back to make sure she’d gone. Still, she went. She went to Lanh’s because there was nowhere else she could think of to go, and because maybe Sergeant Fisk would come and ask for her there.

Lanh wasn’t there. The computers and the photovoltaics were packed away in the safe Lanh had in the back room, but his armchair was empty and so was the foam mattress he’d made up by the safe. She was going to sit and wait in the armchair, but she was just too tired. She felt under the chair – his novel was there, the bookmark still in it. She turned it over: Shantaram. She was too tired to even read the blurb. She pulled the bookmark out and left the book open and face down on the chair. She felt around the edge of the chair cushion and found some coins, a cheese Twistie and, finally, a pen. She wrote on the back of the bookmark, ‘Lanh, I’m on your bed. Don’t be frightened. Sorry, I had to sleep. Caddy’, and she put it on top of the book. She took two tablets, washed down with her now-warm bottle of Salveation, lay down and fell asleep.