It was Peter who spoke first, setting himself down in front of me and watching.
“Was there actually anything you wanted to say?”
“What’s going on?” He shifted uncomfortably in his seat; I didn’t know what he expected. “This is a joke of a dinner, her sister too? Do I even know her sister?” He looked up in surprise.
“Cas said you’d met her, earlier today?” I frowned, remembering. “She’s only here for a short while and I thought it would be good for everyone.” He looked down at his hands. “I want you and Cas to get along, Mella.”
“Why.” I’m not sure, but I think I heard the panic set in at that moment. “Why must we get along, Pet. Why?”
“Listen, I know you don’t like her, though she apologised and –“
“She apologised because she thought she’d be fired, Peter. That’s hardly a reason.” He looked both tired and scared all at once.
“Mella, give her a chance, please? For me?” Again, he was looking at his hands instead of me, and my heart felt heavy.
“You know it’s illegal to date an employee, Peter.” His hands clenched, red and white warring over his skin.
“Mella, don’t be like this.”
“Be like what?” The absurdity of it hit at me hard. I thought he didn’t like her, he’d almost agreed when I said I wanted to thump her one.
“Like this. Listen, Mella, you’ll need to get along because I won’t have my employees unhappy.” He was looking at me now, a hard glint in his eyes, not backing down at all.
“Your employees. Your. Damned. Employees.” The white submerged the red on his knuckles and he stood. “I paid for this, Peter. I made this happen.”
“You didn’t want it, Amelia. Now, you’re going to be okay with anything I decide, because you couldn’t run this business alone, and I run half of it too. It’s not all about you, not tonight, and not always.” His long legs strode into the kitchen, I followed at a distance, and he thrust a plate onto the table. “She’s a nice woman, and all you can see is... is... I don’t even know what the fuck you see, Mella.”
The second plate slammed against the table, and I thought it would crack.
“You want to chill out, Pet? You’re going to break your plates.” I think he almost threw the third plate at me, the way he held it in his hand at stared at me with this incredulous anger. “I don’t know what your problem is anyway. I’m the one who has to see her.”
The plate hit the table. “Don’t, then.” I raised an eyebrow. “Don’t fucking see her. Don’t come to Rojas, go home now. Don’t visit. Be like all the other money, and back the fuck away.”
I couldn’t breathe for a moment, realising how furious he really was, and how disproportionate it all was to the situation. It confused me, rattled me, so I backed away, walking to the couch and sinking into it. I could hear the clatter of the kitchen and his barely muffled swearing.
Then, like no time had passed, it was quiet and he was standing in the doorway, looking at me. I kept my eyes ahead, watching the curtains blow against the window. Behind me, I heard the ping of the elevator, and the noise of their chatter.
“We’re here! Jane didn’t get lost, either. Isn’t that fantastic.”
I didn’t move, counting the beats between the puff of curtains. I saw Peter smile in my peripheral vision, the bright way his eyes greeted them made me uncomfortable. I could feel them move closer to me, coming up on the couch.
“That’s great. Jane, welcome to my apartment. You know Mella already, I’m told.” His smile didn’t falter when I didn’t move, he just strode to collect their things.
“Oh. Yes, we met.” The tension in her voice was clear, the nervousness. “Hello, Amelia, it’s lovely to see you again.”
“Hi.”
They all stood somewhere at my back, silent. The shuffle of footsteps made Jane’s appearance in my line of sight less of a surprise, but still an invasion. I glanced to my glass, still sitting on the table.
“How are you tonight?” The woman had guts, I had to admit. I was clearly unhappy, but she ploughed on. “I know we got off to a little bit of a rocky start. But I hope its okay now?” Her words hung in the air, Peter taking them up.
“You got off to a bad start? So surprising, seeing as Mella’s such a lovely, pleasant woman.” I laughed, and I heard him walk around with Cassie.
“I’m fine, thank you. And yourself?” I ignored the second part of the conversation, keeping only to what pleased me.
“Good, thank you.”
The night passed in the same way, tersely awkward conversation and laughter. I’m not sure what Cassie or Jane felt about the tension in the room. Cassie, no doubt, considered it to be solely on her, and maybe her sister felt the same. Peter, however, shot sarcasm and hard-edged glances my way all night.
When I thought it was safe, just after dessert, I stood from the table, smiling around at everyone pleasantly.
“Thank you for such a pleasant night, but I have things to do in the morning and must get home.”
Jane looked sad, and Cassie triumphant. Peter didn’t look at me now, just nodded as I walked past his chair and went to collect my things.
While I waited for the elevator, though, I heard him murmur to the others, and walk up behind me.
“Mella... Melly.” I didn’t turn, just slid one arm into my jacket. “Come to Rojas tomorrow. Eight.”
The elevator arrived and I slipped my other arm in. Turning to face him as I clicked the Ground button, I made no indication I’d heard. I didn’t want to go, and he knew it. The doors closed on his face, and I slumped against the back wall.
Driving home was horrible, and my mood didn’t improve at all when I got in and Daryl stepped out of his room. He watched me as I walked to my door, opened it, and closed it behind me, never saying a word.
I flipped open my laptop without turning on the light, letting the music start up again, almost immediately. Kicking off my shoes, I let them thud against the wall; the hush of my dress falling down on itself was less satisfying. I debated pyjamas, thinking about the effort of it all, and how much I didn’t want to do anything, and decided on grabbing a singlet top from the cupboard. I was yawning as I finally slipped into bed.
When I woke, it was in much the same humour as the night before. Instead of getting up I felt around on the floor for a book, deciding to read for the next few hours. Anything to keep from seeing anyone. Half way through Perfume, I stopped; Suskind was interesting, but not enough to keep me from food for so long.
Stumbling into the shower didn’t interest me so much as hearing a giggle from the kitchen. Daryl was entertaining in my house, with some woman I most likely didn’t know. Looking down at myself, I realised I was hardly dressed for an encounter with anyone. I hadn’t swapped singlet tops, so it looked slept in, though I’d remembered to put on clean underwear and a pair of shorts. So I considered just hiding until she left, but the giggle happened again.
“What’s so funny?” I wandered into the kitchen without looking at either of them, concentrating on getting cereal from the cupboard.
“Oh, Cas was just telling me about last night.” I think I pulled a muscle in my spine, the way my back hardened and I tensed. Turning around, I smiled at them both, cheeks hurting with the effort.
“Really now?”
“Yes, she wanted to make sure we were both coming to the party tonight.” It was in a mere eight hours, detracting time to get ready and travel, I had six hours or so to waste.
“Oh.”
“Yes, I’d love it if you were both there. Really.” She seemed sincere, and I wondered why that was. Peter had probably relayed the fight; maybe she didn’t feel threatened by me now. I nodded vaguely, pouring milk into my cereal bowl.
“I’ll be there with bells on.” Daryl sat close to her, his grin quirking up at the sides.
“That’s wonderful.” She chattered on, and I cut it all out. The idea of just turning up made me feel a little ill, though it might have been the speed of my eating. Five minutes later I was done, walking out of the kitchen with a nod to the two still talking.
I thought about going out, but Perfume still sat on my bed, and it was too tempting to pass up. Sinking into France, I lost myself for the next two hours. After which, I found my copy of A Home at the End of the World. It felt right, after Perfume, nothing too happy considering what a trial the night looked to be.
It was seven when I next looked up. I was going to be late. Taking my time, I got ready; a long red skirt that clung to my legs, and a black blouse were the most dressed I was willing to be. I arrived at a quarter past, but the lights in the trees and the music from inside meshed together for intimidation.
The crowd inside didn’t part when I tried to get through, twisting between swaying bodies and trying not to be splashed. I hated coming, the Rojas didn’t look how it should, the facade hiding its beauty. An elbow pushed me, and I lunged forward, ready to meet the chair in front of me. Hands caught me seconds before impact, steadying me easily.
“You’re a clumsy thing tonight, Mella.” Daryl grinned brightly while I scowled at him, my expression did nothing. He had a blonde woman hanging off his arm, smiling at her. “This is Joanna, she’s a student at ACU. “
“Australian Catholic University” she explained, I wondered who didn’t know that in Sydney.
“That’s lovely, are you enjoying your course?” Daryl obviously hadn’t expected me to be pleasant, and looked willing to leave.
“I am, actually, Daryl’s been a great help.” I couldn’t help but wonder with what. “He’s always a great help.” She ginned up at him, snuggling closer against his shirt. He smiled back with ease.
“Joanna’s been doing a project and she asked for my advice. They’re doing some amazing things over there these days, Mella. You should check it out.” I could see he wanted to leave, but he was too enthused with Joanna’s work. He was being friendly, if awkward, and obviously liked the girl, so I nodded, and let them get away.
I watched as he guided her to a seat against the wall, pulling her close and whispering in her ear. With a barely concealed sigh, I turned, right into Peter, who was talking to Cassie. My luck, I thought, was just shot today.
They both looked less than completely happy to see me, and I doubt I did any better to seem excited.
“It’s a lovely party.” They both looked shocked I was talking first. “You’ve done a great thing with the lights too. Happy birthday, Cassie.”
“T-thanks, Mella. I really appreciate it.” The idea of standing around making idle chit chat disgusted me, so I nodded again and pushed myself into the crowd. It wasn’t hard to snag a drink, and scull it in a few seconds. I was parched.
Picking up another on my way, I wandered outside and sat in the cool shade of the jacaranda. It was cool and the breeze felt nice on the heat of my cheeks. I set my glass down and tried to make out the time on my watch. It was already nine thirty. What I’d done in that time was a mystery to me.
I thought about Peter and Cassie, then Daryl and Joanna. They looked happy with each other, unwilling to let me disrupt them by being around, why I came, I didn’t know. I wondered where Rob was, he’d sit with me and chatter, and keep me company. Irritation nagged at me, I wanted to leave but wasn’t sure I could yet. I played with my drink, sipping it quickly until it was gone, and the lights made rainbows in the empty air.
It wasn’t hard to slip back inside, nick a drink, and come back out, this time. I could see Daryl talking to some guys in a corner, and Rob was motioning with Peter near the stairs to the apartment. I wanted to go talk to him, but he was with Peter, and so far away. Sitting back down, I looked out into the night and took a deep breath, letting my eyes float over everything.
A light had fallen against the purple flowers, dead with its wires nonexistent. I looked around, and no one watched me, the noises from inside hiding me in the silence. My toes touched it, and it rolled backward and then to me again. Teasing me.
I pushed it again and watched it play the game. It was a game people play too; just people play less straight forward, with less truth. It kept running back again. Back and back and back. The tree lights flickered in succession. Again they flickered, I kicked the light again, but I didn't hit it. It had rolled too far away.
I could reach it, if I stretched, toes jutting out in their leather cover. I did, pressing down lightly, I coaxed it forward, willed it to me. A laugh startled me. I crushed the light. It made a pathetic crunch. The sound had no echo, like it had no place in the world.
The lights played down on the clear blue of my crushed toy, reflecting back on one another. My glass swirled in my hand as I stared down at my light. It tipped to the right as my head did, trying to see the light from all angles, trying to understand. Then to the left, but the light wouldn't speak.
Nothing would ever speak if I couldn't understand it. But I couldn't understand things if they didn't tell me about themselves. Mum had always said that listening was a most important skill. She’d said a lot of things, so many things that I’ve forgotten and fewer that I remember.
I couldn’t listen to the light because it had no voice. I’d killed the voice of its colour, burying its life in my shoe. I wondered if I could find another voice that had its colour, but my neck strained to look in the tree, and the colours blurred with the high moon. The moon didn’t reflect on my light any more than it did on my glass. The liquid in it sloshed, and I watched a small sliver of it fall down the side of the glass, rolling so slowly I thought it didn’t move at all.
It did move, though, and it touched against my finger, trailing down my skin the way cold, dead hands might caress your neck. It left a trail of debris, a track to follow. My skin shuddered with disgust, that greasy sliver touched the base of my finger, smashing itself on my skin and breaking apart.
I’m not sure if anyone heard, but the colours flickered against the glass like they did the light, and I couldn’t bring myself to care about anyone else. It was dejected, my fragmented glass leaking in the gutter, and it sang of sadness. The wine pooled around, and in, the broken bits of glass. I liked watching how it dripped over the edges and sank into the grit of the ground. And it kept on dripping, a seemingly endless drip.
It was nice, the steady drip and the hush of voices that followed me but didn’t see me. I was an optical illusion, you look but you don’t see, that shuddered in the shadows. I don’t know what they’d see when they glanced through the doors and saw me. Or not me. I wasn’t me, it was a night to be anyone but, and my skirt moulded my thighs when I bent to see the mechanics of the drip.
Peter found me crouched there, blood sliding like slow snails down to the crooks of my fingers. They were crooks, my fingers, stealing away those glass pieces like they owned them. Only, though, only because they refused to speak, and I wanted to understand so badly.
“Melly! What the fuck?” He swooped down on me, taking my hands in his and trying to see in the lamp light. “What do you think you’re doing? Look at all the blood. God damn it!” My hands trembled in his, and I couldn’t tell if it was him or me. He fumbled when he tried to get the glass from my fingers, his shoulders shaking.
“I just wanted to understand.”
