The desk girl has the telephone receiver halfway to her ear. Fab5 turns to the her. ‘Can you keep my stuff safe behind your desk, babe?’
She gawks at him like he’s scum of the earth.
In slowly drawn out words, he asks her, ‘Are. You. Okay? Do you need help?’ He tosses his clothes on her desk.
‘What in the hell?’ I say to him. ‘She doesn’t have brain damage.’
I take Fab5 on a tour of Swan Lake. I show him the recreational room, the rose garden and the library.
When Fab5’s back from the toilets, he says, ‘There’s no lock on the toilets. I was sat on the loo, mate, and some old cleaner barged in on me.’
‘Did she want sex?’ I laugh.
‘Not interested, mate. The only girl I want is that sourpuss of a receptionist. Think I’m in love.’
‘You always say that.’
Makes me think about last night and all the things said, and unsaid. Makes something twist in my soul knowing Amy thought I could fuck another girl. Haven’t I shown her that she’s the only one I want? Doesn’t she get it? Doesn’t that mermaid ink on my back mean something? That she’s MINE. That I belong to her. That I love her in the only sick way I know how.
I take him back into the front foyer of Crow Ward. Fab5 picks up his clothes from the desk. He rummages through them. ‘Oh come on. My shirt’s missing.’ He looks at me. ‘I was gonna give this place four stars, but you might wanna recheck your security.’
The desk girl just chews on her gum, blows out a bubble.
‘Wanna go out for drink, sometime, sweetheart?’ Fab5 says to her.
Her bubble pops into her mouth. ‘When Hell freezes over, sweetheart.’
‘No worries, love,’ he says, ‘was planning on becoming celibate for a bit, anyway.’
I laugh, and say to him, ‘No way can you do that. You've got more chance of being deepthroated by a nun.’
He leaves and I go to Diana’s room. Her eyes are half-open, the blankets tucked underneath her armpits. She’s imprisoned in the bed.
The TV plays low. A news reporter drones on and on. I glance out the window. There’s nothing to see. The window reflects back the pale light of the bedside lamp. The reflection of my face is an isolated oval in the black pane.
I’m not sure why I’m staying since Diana is out of it. Guilt again, yeah, most likely, but there’s more to it than that. I want to tell her about the girl I love, just like a son would with his mother.
I lean forward in my chair. It creaks beneath me. ‘Diana?’ I wait. ‘Diana, you awake?’
She mutters something, turns her head a little. ‘Shepherd?’
‘Yeah, it’s me.’
Her eyes come open more. She licks her lips. ‘Is that you, honey?’
‘It's me, Diana. Shepherd.’
‘How long have you been here?’
‘Not long.’
Christ only knows how long Diana will remember who I am. I act quick. ‘Diana, did Violet tell you who my father was?’
I’ve tried to bury this behind me. But I can’t lay it to rest. It rubs my guts raw, until it burns and itches. I need to know who my father is. He forced my mum to jack in her baby and then hang herself. I want to curse my dad to the seventh circle of Hell. He left me to rot in the children’s home.
‘I wish to God I knew, honey. She didn’t tell. She wouldn’t. She said he protected her. He wouldn’t let any of the others touch her. He was hers. It was a mystery then as it is a mystery now.’ She looks at me, shaken. ‘What others, Shepherd?’
‘I don’t know, Diana.’ I have a gut feeling I never want to know the answer. ‘Did you suspect anyone?’
Diana frowns. ‘She told me one morning she’d decided to take a chance and go see the father for help. She was poor and she very much wanted to keep you. That very day I saw her with Christian Earhart. I always thought it strange . . . ’
Diana closes her eyes. ‘It hurts . . . ’
I let her rest, quit this line of questioning.
I sit back, feel the wood press against my aching muscles. ‘Diana, I’ve met a girl.’
‘That’s lovely, honey. What is she like?’
‘She’s beautiful. Sings like an angel. Should stay away, but, there’s just something about her. Something special.’
‘When can I meet her, honey?’
‘Soon, Diana. Soon.’
‘It hurts . . . ’
‘I know. Go to sleep.’
‘Peter? Is that you?’
What little light we had is gone. ‘Yeah. It’s me, Peter.’
She closes her eyes all the way. ‘Don’t leave me, Peter. Stay with me. It’s scary here at night.’
Music swells on the newscast. I turn to the window and look at the coming darkness. I return to childhood nights huddled against my teddy bear, frightened and alone, the rest of the world a scary place.
I close my eyes, block out the screams, the ghosts of Nazareth, and try to convince myself, really convince myself, that just for these moments, and in this place, I’m as alright as I can be.
That Amy’s father has nothing to do with my mother.
32
YOU
I find Daisy outside the door marked FIRE EXIT.
’Fifty-four steps,’ Daisy says. She speaks in huffed breaths, her bare feet slap-slap-slapping on each one of the black iron steps. Then she presses her palm flat against the brick wall, propels herself into a spin and goes right back down again.
‘Are you okay, Daisy. Has something happened? Is Max okay?’
‘I’m fine and Max is at school. He loves Greystone Primary.’
She isn’t fine. Her body is thin.
