‘Oh,’ says Edie, scrunching her towel into a tight ball.
There is nothing I hate more than upsetting Edie. I obviously haven’t given her a clear enough picture of the situation. ‘I really would love to, but Arthur is a mess. I’ve never seen him like this before.’
‘Really, that’s fine.’ Edie shoves the towel into her bag. ‘I just thought. Given it’s been a while since we’ve spent time together.’ The bag lands on her shoulder with a thud. She starts striding towards the gate.
‘I thought you’d be preparing for your public speaking competition,’ I call out.
Edie turns around slowly.
‘I thought tomorrow night, when it’s over …’
‘The thing is,’ Edie says, walking back again. ‘Now that you’ve mentioned it, I could use your help with my SpeakOut prep.’
This is a surprise. ‘But what about the ideas I already gave you?’
‘They were great, really great,’ says Edie, suddenly enthusiastic. ‘I just need a bit of help fleshing them out, that’s all. You know, like you’ve done before.’
I blink. ‘You mean the debate card thing?’
‘Exactly!’
The ‘debate card thing’ I do for Edie is to set out each of the speech points on separate numbered cards. Beneath each point I write a list of sub-points that she can use to expand upon her main point. It is a heck of a lot of work, but it helps her tremendously.
I think about Arthur. He really is grieving over this girl. Last night I found him watching Beauty and the Beast and he is strictly a horror movie man. That’s when I decided to take him to the Wes Craven retrospective at the Verona. I know how much he is looking forward to it.
Edie looks at me hopefully. She has put her hair up in a loose bun and strands are playing about her ears. ‘Come on,’ she urges. ‘You’re my lucky charm, you know.’
She is so sweet. I was late to practice and played so badly. I have to make it up to her. Besides, what kind of a person says no when her girlfriend needs her help?
‘Let me see if I can catch Arthur before he leaves the house,’ I say, pulling out my phone.
‘Thanks Bubble, I knew you’d come through.’ She begins jogging backwards to the gate. ‘Meet you at the Lexus.’
Arthur answers on the second ring. ‘You’re cancelling, aren’t you?’
His voice, sounding terribly far away, echoes down the line. ‘Where are you?’ I ask.
‘Where are you?’
‘At the courts. I’m about to leave.’
‘To meet me at the movies?’
‘Oh Arthur, I’m sorry. No. Are you in the kitchen? Is that why the sound is so hollow?’
‘The bathroom.’
‘What are you doing in there?’
There is a pause. ‘Having a bath?’
Arthur only ever showers. In a flash I see him lying there, his head lolling against the porcelain, a razor floating in the water, blood running from his arms. ‘Do I need to call an ambulance?’
‘What? No!’ He laughs. ‘I’m not actually in the bath.’
‘Then what are you doing?’
‘You don’t want to know, Harri, believe me. Why aren’t we going to the movies?’
I pause guiltily. ‘Something’s come up.’
‘I see.’ He sounds very unimpressed.
‘We could always go tomorrow,’ I venture.
‘You mean tomorrow as in I’m-getting-two-teeth-wrenched-out-of-my-head-tomorrow?’
Oh dear. I had forgotten about Arthur’s teeth. Our father has diagnosed a ‘crowded mouth’ and is pulling them himself. Arthur will be spending the night on the couch with an icepack strapped to his head. ‘Then can I cheer you up sometime on Saturday?’
My brother grunts. ‘I don’t know. Do you think you’ll be able to slot me in?’ he says sarcastically.
‘Come off it, Arthur,’ I say, irritated. ‘I’ve never known you to be in such a mood. This Candice girl wasn’t all that, you know.’
‘Sorry.’ He is clearly far from it. ‘How could I forget? How could anyone, ever, be as perfect as Edie?’
‘Oh, Arthur.’
‘You’re not writing another speech for her, are you? One where you give her all the material and she takes all the credit? I knew it was a bad idea for you to give up debating.’
‘What’s that got to do with anything?’
Arthur sighs. ‘You gave it up so you could focus on tennis. Whereas Edie gets to do well at tennis and her public speaking because she makes you do all the work.’
I clear my throat. ‘Look, I know you’re very miserable, but it’s no reason to lash out at Edie or me. I’m just trying to help. Anyway, tennis isn’t the only reason I gave up debating. I’m also chair of the Formal Committee. It’s a big responsibility. There is a venue to organise, not to mention tables, music, catering … Arthur? Are you still there?’
At Arthur’s end something has been draped across the receiver. I hear the muffled sound of flushing water. A second later my brother is back on the line.
‘I think I missed most of that,’ he says.
‘I was just saying – oh, never mind. Come on. Please say yes to Saturday.’
‘All right,’ he grumbles.
‘Good, then.’ I recover my jovial voice. ‘If you see Mum or Dad, tell them I’ll be home around eleven.’
‘Since when do they care whether we’re home or not?’
‘Just tell them, anyway.’
We hang up. I walk quickly towards the car park. I don’t want to keep Edie waiting. She gets in such a bad mood when she has to wait.
Chapter 9
WILL
It’s Sunday night. Mum is on the couch watching the news, trying to pretend she doesn’t have a date. I know she has a date because she has her bathrobe on, which she only wears for two reasons: when she’s about to have an actual bath (which happens roughly three times a year – showers are more her thing) and when she’s pretending she doesn’t have a date.
Before a date,
