She hooked the straps of her costume back over her shoulders, coughing. Further down the beach, Isla waved, and ran towards her through the shallows.
‘Mandy!’ Isla was wearing red swimmers. Red. ‘I saw you in the water! You got your hair wet!’
This was why Mandy didn’t have children. It was scary, and exhausting. She crawled onto the beach where their towels were laid out and sat herself down. Christ Almighty.
‘You went swimming!’ Isla threw herself onto her knees in the sand. ‘Did you like it?’
‘Not much.’ Mandy laughed. She pushed Isla’s flattened, gritty hair out of her face. ‘I didn’t see that wave coming.’
‘You said you don’t like the water.’
‘I don’t!’ Mandy pulled her costume away from her skin and saw she had sand all over the place, thickly gathered in the folds of her belly. ‘Let’s go and get showered. Your mum will be back soon. We should head home.’
Isla shook her head. ‘She won’t be back yet. She went shopping. I reckon she’ll be ages.’
‘It’s getting choppy out there. That’s enough for today.’ Mandy stood and reached for her towel, flicking the worst of the sand out of it. ‘Tell you what. Next time we’ll catch a shark and take it home for lunch. How’s that sound?’
Isla nodded, and picked up her own towel. ‘Tomorrow, can we?’
‘Don’t see why not.’ She nodded up at the showers at the top of the beach. ‘You have first shower. I’ll be right behind you.’
Mandy’s legs were heavy as she followed Isla up the coastal path towards the house. She stood a moment under the shade of the tea trees, listening to the waves, getting her breath back. Steve would be home soon. He’d been away over a week, so he must have finished the job. She had a bad feeling about this one, she didn’t know why. It was getting harder for him as time went on. And it was getting harder to deal with him afterwards.
Her skin turned cold, thinking of it. She found her sundress, sandy and damp at the bottom of her bag, and pulled it over her head, brushed the dried sand from her skin and climbed the last few yards to the bottom of her backyard. The best she could hope for was that he wouldn’t get back before she’d had a chance to open the gin.
‘Mummy’s back already!’ Isla ran across the yard towards her. ‘She’s back! She didn’t even get any shopping!’ Isla stopped and attempted a handstand, leaving one foot on the grass, one bent leg pointing skywards. She stood up and lifted her hands above her head, triumphant. ‘That’s why she’s cranky, and much too hot.’
Mandy followed Isla across the grass to where Louisa was waiting for them at the rear of the house. She looked gorgeous, as usual. Tall and elegant in a pale blue dress, perfectly upright, and that dark slab of hair down her back. Mandy felt plump and crumpled in her presence. ‘You should have let yourself in, Lou. Door’s open.’
‘I’ve only been waiting a few minutes.’ Louisa held her arm across her forehead to block the sun. ‘I was quicker than I expected. Thanks for having her.’
‘Don’t mention it. We had a great time.’ Mandy pushed the back door open, dropped her bag on the lino and switched the electric fan on, more for Louisa’s benefit than her own. ‘Come in and I’ll fix you a drink. You look like you need a pick-me-up. I know I do.’
Louisa took a coaster from the kitchen table and fanned herself. ‘Sounds wonderful.’
She seemed nervy, smiling too brightly, Mandy thought. She tried to catch her eye, but Louisa sat down at the table and stared out at the yard, kicking her long legs out in front of her. The sun was pulling back behind the house, and Isla was skipping up and down, her shadow folding over the plant pots and the coil of garden hose.
‘Is anything wrong?’ Mandy asked.
‘Still can’t get used to Christmas out here,’ Louisa said, without turning round. ‘It hits me hard at this time of year, you know.’
Mandy did know. Louisa was so homesick you could feel it coming through the walls. She reminded Mandy of her mother in that way. The British accent and the pining for home, always fed up with this country. Her mum had never let up about the stinking heat, as she’d called it. Forever fanning herself and looking for the shade. Nothing had cheered that woman up like a dark bank of cloud.
Louisa turned to face her. ‘I made a down payment,’ she said, waving a fly away. ‘I went into town to make a down payment.’
‘On what?’
She glanced out at Isla in the yard. ‘Fix me that drink and I’ll tell you.’
Mandy flexed the ice tray and dropped a few cubes into each tumbler. ‘Happy New Year, Lou. Here’s to 1967.’ She knocked her glass against Louisa’s. This was her first toast to the New Year. With Steve being away she’d thought she might ignore it, but in the end she’d had a few drinks and stayed up past midnight on her own. She took a long sip of gin and wondered, was it unlucky to bring in the New Year on your own? An omen of some kind?
‘You got a new watch?’ Louisa reached for the Timex, which sat on the kitchen table, curled around the salt and pepper.
‘Got it for Christmas.’
‘It’s beautiful.’
‘D’you think?’ She felt the alcohol reach her, its welcome lift. ‘I can’t get used to it. Never had a watch before.’
Louisa wrapped it around her own wrist and fastened the buckle. She stretched her arm out to look at it, turning it back and forth. Her arm was damp with a fine sheen of sweat, Mandy noticed. Even her sweat was lovely.
‘You should wear it,’ Louisa said. ‘It’s elegant.’
Mandy smiled and took the watch from Louisa. ‘That’s the problem,’ she said. ‘I’m not the elegant sort.’ She buckled the watch, keeping it loose so it didn’t pinch.
Louisa sat back and lifted her hair, pulling it into a comb. The soft hair at the nape of her neck was wet, stuck to her skin.
‘What did you say about a down payment, Lou?’
Isla bolted past them, straight through the kitchen into the lounge room. ‘Isla, don’t run!’ Louisa called. ‘Slow down!’
Isla jumped onto the couch to look out the window. Mandy took a swallow of gin and waited.
‘Steve’s back!’ Isla held onto the back of the couch and sprang up and down, her backside in the air. ‘He’s back, Mandy!’
Mandy stood at the window and looked out. Steve had parked up already, and the truck was filthy, as always. Mud-caked wheels; brick-red dust at the fenders. The windscreen was covered in muck but for the small double-arc of the wipers.
Steve turned the engine off and slumped over the steering wheel, resting his head on the bridge of his hands.
Mandy’s stomach turned. ‘Here we go,’ she said, as he lifted his head. She stepped away from the window, afraid to catch his eye.
‘Here we go!’ Isla leapt off the couch and turned a pirouette. ‘Here we go!’
‘Isla, stop jumping around.’ Louisa stood in the doorway with Isla’s sandals in one hand. ‘We should get going.’
‘No rush. Don’t feel you have to leave.’
‘No, we’ll be off. Steve will want a bit of quiet, if he’s been away.’
Mandy nodded and stubbed her cigarette out in the ashtray on the coffee table. She could see from here, he wasn’t going to keep it together on account of company. ‘I hope he’s not too cut up, this time.’
Louisa made a sympathetic face but didn’t reply. She was miles away. Troubles of