Not Meeting Mr Right Read Free Page A

time
in the near future. I had nothing to contribute to this
Mothers' Club meeting. No-one was the slightest bit
interested in what I did for a living, what I drove (unless
it was the latest station-wagon or oversized four-wheel
drive with airbags to protect the kids), or where I lived
(unless it was near a good day care centre).
    Debra, who had once crushed biscuits in my hair at
the school bus stop, arrived late. She hadn't changed a
bit. Thin frame, thick hair, bushy black eyebrows, and a
sense of self that had always put me on edge. Where did
she get that confidence? I knew straight away she'd be
married with children. I really didn't care if I spoke to
her or not, but she planted herself opposite me just as
the main course was being served, everyone else quickly
moving to ensure there wasn't a spare seat across from
them. Debra was known as the class bitch at school,
but no-one was ever brave enough to challenge her.
Dannie had told me that no-one really wanted her to
come. I'd had five gins and two glasses of wine by this
time, though, so I was ready for whatever she dished
out. Biscuits or otherwise.
    'So, how many children do you have, Alice?' Debra
had four.
    'None. But here's a photo of my brothers.' Did it
sound as weird as I thought it did? Probably. I quickly
put the photo back in my wallet and left it there for the
rest of the night. Some may have thought it was sad,
but my brothers and my dad had always been the most
important men in my life. At least I could rely on them
to be there for me.
    'But you're obviously involved with someone special,
though,' Debra said, looking at my hands.
    'No. I bought this ring as a present for myself.' I was
proud of my ability to teach, and that I made a good
enough living to take myself shopping at Tiffany's.
If I were ever to get a wedding ring or even just an
engagement ring, it would come in a pale blue box. Not
some chain-store faux suede one.
    'That's funny. I thought Aboriginal women had
children young – married or not. We all thought at
school you'd be the first to have children.' Bitch! Had
they all really thought that?
    Debra was wrong about me being the first pregnant,
but she was right about Koori women and kids
generally. Fact was, most of the Koori women I knew
had squeezed their kids out in their early twenties, some
even before that, and none of them had blokes around
now. Some of them had never had a bloke around at all.
Many of the young girls I knew now were still doing it.
It was a hard thing for me to understand, coming from
a two-parent family and a Catholic background. We'd
always been taught no sex before marriage and no kids
out of wedlock. Even as times changed, the morals of
the Church were upheld, at least in the Aigner house.
Christian values worked for me in a very general
sense – do unto others and so on – but I'd had to work
out my own beliefs when I left school and started to
live the life I thought best for me and the world. I tried
to live by the Aboriginal value systems of the past –
community benefits over individual gain, cooperation
over competition, responsibility over rights.
    Debra was still staring at me.
    'Some do have children young, Debra, because
when there's nothing else to do – no employment
opportunities for instance – and you have low selfworth,
why not create a life – someone who will love you
back unconditionally?' She looked at me, unbelieving.
I was struggling; she'd dealt me a low blow and I didn't
really know how to recover.
    'As for me, I've got plenty of love around me. And
plenty of work to do. I'm not looking to fill any gaps yet,' I
said, getting to my feet, loud enough for some of the other
women to look at me and then Debra, wondering what
had sparked the clear disagreement. Debra looked at me
with contempt. She was ticked off, but I didn't care.
    I already had my mother nagging me about breeding
and maintaining the race. ('Wouldn't it be lovely to
have a little brown Koori kid around the house?')