North of Nowhere, South of Loss Read Free Page B

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    â€œThere’s a lot you don’t know, Philippa.”
    â€œI don’t know why you think they were any different from anyone else’s parents”
    He signalled for another jug, and we waited until it came, and then Brian filled both our glasses.
    â€œThey were,” he said. “That’s all.”
    â€œThey weren’t. I spent enough time at your place, for God’s sake.”
    â€œGod, I’m depressed,” Brian said.
    â€œI spent time at Richard’s and Julie’s and Elaine’s. They weren’t any different from anyone else’s mum and dad.” Brian said nothing. With his index finger, he played in a spill of beer. We were both, I knew, thinking of Elaine.
    â€œSorry,” I said, “I shouldn’t have … That’s something that happens when I come back. Every so often, you know, maybe once or twice a year, I still have nightmares about Elaine. But not when I’m back here. When I’m here, we all still seem to be around. In the air or something. I can feel us.” I stared into my glass, down the long amber stretch of the past. “How long is it since you’ve been back, anyway?”
    â€œFive years.”
    â€œThat’s your average? Once every five years?”
    â€œIt’s not that I want to come that often,” he said. “Necessity.”
    I laughed. Brian did not. “You’re not usually this negative about Brisbane,” I protested. “When was the last time I saw you? Two years ago, wasn’t it? In Melbourne. No, wait. I forgot. London. June before last in London when you were there for that conference — Yes, and we got all nostalgic and tried to phone Julie, tried to track her down … that was hilarious, remember? We got onto that party line somewhere south of Mt Isa.”
    â€œIt’s different when I’m somewhere else,” Brian said. “I get depressed as hell when I’m back.”
    â€œBoy, you can say that again.”
    â€œLast time ever, that’s a promise to me,” he said. “Except for Dorrie’s funeral.”
    â€œGod, Brian.” I had to fortify myself with Cooper’s comfort. “You’re getting me depressed. Anyway, speaking of your mother, we’d better get going. What time’s she expecting us?”
    â€œOh shit.” Brian folded his arms tightly across his stomach and pleated himself over them.
    â€œWhat’s the matter?”
    â€œI can’t go.”
    â€œWhat?”
    â€œI can’t go, Philippa. I can’t go. I just can’t. Can you call her for me? Make up some excuse?”
    I stared at him.
    â€œLook,” he said. “I meant to. I thought I could manage it. But I can’t. Tell her I’m tied up. You’ll do it better than I could.”
    â€œWhat the hell is the matter with you?”
    â€œLook, tell her –” He seemed to cast about wildly for possible bribes. “Tell her we’ll take her out for lunch tomorrow, before my afternoon flight. I’m staying at the Hilton, we’ll take her there.”
    â€œI won’t do it. I’m not going to do your dirty work for you. This is crazy, Brian. It’s cruel. You’ll break her heart.”
    Brian stood abruptly, knocking over his chair and blundered inside to the pay phone near the bar. I watched him dial. “Listen, Dorrie,” I heard him say, in his warm, charming, famous-public -person voice. “Look, something’s come up, it’s a terrible nuisance.”
    â€œYou bloody fake!” I yelled. There were notes of rush and pressure in his voice, with an undertone of concern. It wasn’t Brian at all. It was someone else speaking, someone I’d never even met, someone who couldn’t hear a thing I was saying, someone who didn’t even know I was there.
    â€œThey’ve got something arranged at uni,” he said smoothly, unctuously. “I