The Outing, page 21
What?
'Stay.'
Here on the swing?
'Fucking dick for brains. No. The apartment. You've still got a key.'
But…
'Talk to Marnie. Go there first.'
Robert got up from the swing still feeling disoriented, but lighter. At the car he turned back. The swings stood side by side. A light breeze breathed across his face. He watched as it moved to the nearby tree. It lifted the leaves. Some of them touched and sighed as they parted.
***
Marnie answered the door, “I wondered when you'd show up?”
Robert blinked, “Really?”
“Nikki said you were coming. Just not when. Beer?”
He looked at his wrist where his watch should be.
“Really?” she said. “Does it matter what time it is?”
Sitting on the verandah watching the sun making its way through the old pines and across the lawn sloping down towards the garden beds around Jack's house, Robert pondered, then, “Did you see the news? Is that why? No. It can't be. If Nikki said… What did she say?”
“When you do things like that you remind me of when we were at school.” She looked away from him, back over the lawn, “Do you remember you not asking me to the Semi?”
“I was never really good at that sort of thing.”
“I had to drag the invitation out of you. You said, I’m not going. And I said everyone does. You have to. And then you asked me if I was going. If someone had asked me.”
“I remember,” said Robert. “You said no-one had asked you because they probably thought I had. So I’d better. Because you weren’t going by yourself.”
“And then I made sure you knew you were taking me to the formal. Just in case you had any ideas about that.”
He sipped his beer and let the bubbles wake up his mouth. It was nice to think about something else.
“Anyway, I’ll fill you in,” she said, and told him how Nikki kept insisting she call him. “She wouldn't let up. Of course, I couldn’t, and I didn’t want to say you were in jail. It wasn’t till I got cross with her, she told me it wasn't her, it was Johnny.”
“You didn’t know?”
“I didn’t believe her. But I didn’t know why she was making things up.”
“Except?”
“We were going to box up Johnny's things. We didn't know what to do with them and we didn't want to get rid of…” she looked down. “And Dad thought short-term furnished rental would work, for the apartment, since it's close to the city. Help cover costs. He contacted an agent and they were putting up a sign.”
“I just came from there.”
“You did?”
“I saw the sign. I even wrote down the number. Then I thought, what did I do that for? I threw it on the floor in the car.” He could see her doubt. “Honestly, I can show you.”
“You wrote the number down? Why? What's going on?”
“You finish,” said Robert. “You haven't told me why you were expecting me.”
“Ok. Well. It got worse after the sign went up. I did the usual parent stuff, don't be silly, blah blah. But she was weepy, said we had to wait for you. You were coming over. And when I said that wasn't likely to happen any time soon, she said you were, and that Johnny said and why wasn’t I listening to her.”
“So that's when you twigged?”
Marnie nodded frowning, “I had no idea. But after I thought about it, it made sense. She told me about Mum too. Did you know?”
“Mmm yeah, but I didn't know that you didn't know. It's kind of special,” he said gently. “Hope she keeps that. Where is she?”
“Sleepover at Grandpa's. They're going to the movies and dinner,” she smiled fondly. “And I do too. Hope she keeps it I mean. It's a gift, and it doesn't seem to faze her. She thinks it's normal. So now you. You're here. Why?”
“Lauren. She can't bear to look at someone capable of…” he looked away.
“She can't think that?” Marnie's voice rose.
“She doesn't know what was happening.”
“Even so. She can't think you could turn into a raging violent maniac and attack your friend. That you would even be capable of that. In all the time I’ve known you I only saw you hit one person.”
“Hmmph, I know,” said Robert. “Another thing I wasn’t good at.”
“You were standing up for me,” Marnie said.
“But,” said Robert, “if I’m honest, it felt rather good. For that first few seconds before he decked me and they all came in and had a go.”
They sat, each lost in the past.
Robert remembering trying to dance and noticing Marnie looking at the girl group having fun and insisting she go and join them and she not wanting to. Worried about leaving him alone. Glen, the big tank from the second fifteen rugby team, chest banging him into the drinks table and then accidentally spilling Fanta on his shirt and yanking him with his tie and stabbing at the stain. Some of the mums and dads had looked away. Then a mum had tried to rescue him with some paper serviettes.
Glen had grabbed at them saying, ‘Thanks. Clumsy.’
He hadn’t known who Glen meant, till he’d leaned in saying, ‘clean yourself up you dirty queer,’ and he’d fumed silently trying not to notice as people passed laden with drinks and titters.
“You knew it was Glen, didn’t you?” he said to Marnie.
“At the formal?” She nodded, “He couldn’t keep the gloat off his face. He was a nasty piece of work. I was so glad you were there with me.”
“When you said, ‘ignore him’ and he’d smirked and said, ‘do as your little fag-hag says’ and done that flick thing where he almost hit your face, I knew ignoring him wasn’t going to work. That sort don’t let it end there.”
“What do you think would have happened if I hadn’t gotten that scream out?”
“I was amazed you did. You had three of them holding you.”
“I had to do something, the other three were laying into you.”
“What makes them want to do that do you think?” said Robert. “Why do they want to attack like that? What are they afraid of? That someone gay might fancy them? Or is it just to make themselves feel good. Superior or something.”
She didn’t say anything for a while, and then, “What upset me just as much was that dad or whoever, who came out when I screamed for help,” she scoffed. “He just looked around and saw you on the ground getting up, and told me off. Missy, remember, he said, ‘I wouldn’t get into the habit of crying wolf if I were you missy’. He must’ve known something was up. He’d just seen half a dozen meaty idiots come outside and then…”
“He didn’t want to get involved,” said Robert. “He’d have had to confront them, or their parents. Easier to blame the victim. To assume.”
“I could talk to her. To Lauren.”
Robert's jaw relaxed slightly, “Thanks. No. I don't think now would be a good idea. She's angry. And hurting. And probably worried as hell that I'm going to go to jail. Shit, I am too.”
Marnie was quiet.
They sat together that way for a bit longer then Robert said, “What were your thoughts, when you heard it on the news? Did it cross your mind?”
“That you did it?” She shook her head. “But I've been wondering why you were pushing so hard for an inquest if it was going to be you they'd arrest. Of course I know you were pushing, but they don't, the police and whoever. Why didn't you say anything? There's stuff you know, and you've kept it from everyone.”
“Yeah, and look where it got me.” He faced her. “I was scared. At first it was a mixture of I didn't want anyone to know about me, and if they knew about us, me and Johnny, then… Then Harry. Imagining how he’d… It was bad enough. And the police. They'd deny it. I had no proof. It wasn't going to bring him back. I had to get more information. I had a hundred fucking excuses Marnie. I hoped I could manipulate things behind the scenes and stay hidden. It was all nice and convenient for me. I didn't have to make any choices that would affect my job, or Lauren, Harry, Dad, or anyone. And the longer it went on, the less forgivable it all seemed. I couldn't, I didn't-” he breathed out heavily. “I didn't know how to get myself out. It's like being snagged in a ball of barbed wire in a way. And anyone who comes to help gets ripped to shreds too.”
“Look, I get it. The thing with Harry and Johnny. I know about the police. But apart from Lauren, is it just the job?” She took his hand, “You could always retrain. Lots of gay hairdressers, I could put in a good word.”
He couldn't help but smile, “Gee, thanks.”
“Seriously!”
She went back to subdued, “What were you doing at Johnny's?”
“I planned to stay at Mum and Dad’s, but when I got there, Lauren was still there picking up the kids. They were there while she collected me from the lock up. So I drove around and that's where I found myself. Surprisingly. Not.”
“You should stay there. It's perfect. It's all set up, and familiar, and you'll need to have some privacy. A phone.”
“Hmmph. That's what Johnny said.” He said it out loud without meaning to.
“What do you mean?”
“I sat with him in the park, on the swing. He said 'Stay'.”
Her head tilted.
“I heard him, Marnie. Clear as a bell. He even called me a dick. Affectionate bastard.” And when tears pooled across his eyes he looked towards the clouds, “He said, go and see Marnie.”
She reached over for his hand again, lifted it and stroked it. He wasn’t expecting to hear an ungracious sounding, “Not fair.”
Her eyes were soft and he knew she wanted to hear Johnny too. He extracted his hand and wrapped her in a hug, “He said he loves you. And thanks.”
She sniffed, “Shall I get you the keys?”
He reached into his pocket and pulled out Johnny's Monopoly house key-chain.
She punched him in the arm.
“Marnie?” Robert broke their silence, “I want to apologise.”
“What for? There's nothing-”
“No, not for now, except I wonder what would have happened if we'd both been at the ferry stop together. If I hadn't gone back for my watch. That just wrecks me. It was minutes, and…” his voice faltered.
“What actually happened? You never told me. Not exactly.”
He told her about the rekindling of their unrequited passion.
How what he'd frozen in time took moments to melt in Duncan's office. How their affair had moved to weekly trysts when Harry re-emerged from hiding. He shared some of the laughs Johnny had at his expense and was able to smile too. He told her how Johnny had declared his life wasn't going to be held to ransom by fear and stupid fucking rules, and a bunch of corrupt cops. He was over it and looking forward to the future and that he was actually glad it happened because it had brought them together. Then he told her about that night, about what he saw at the ferry stop and after. He talked as the sun finished crawling across the lawn and was climbing up the side of Jack's house and finished with turning up on her doorstep.
They sat together silently.
“I didn't finish,” Robert said, “my apology. I’m sorry I wasn't around for you. After Nikki came. It must have been hard, you must’ve been lonely and I, Lauren and I, we disappeared. And didn't come back.”
“I had Dad. And I had Johnny,” she smiled poignant and ironic. And after a pause added, “And you did come back. It's OK. I knew you couldn't be in the same space as him, or me, and keep up the act.”
Chapter 43
Robert reached towards the lock, then stopped, and stared at the door. This should be like coming home, and he almost conjured the feeling, but part of him felt like he was trespassing. Invading the space of some other Robert, the Robert and Johnny one, which didn't exist without the Johnny part.
Inside, he felt like he was walking through cotton wool.
In the silent heavy haze, he put his suitcase on the bed, and then opened the wardrobe. As he reached to push Johnny's clothes along the rail, his hand paused again. The cotton wool pressed in, whiting out everything. He turned, leaning on the wardrobe door, before sliding to the floor. The damp in his eyes hovered, refusing to fall. He rolled to his side and closed them, rocking, slow rhythmic and tiny movements. One two three four… fifteen. Again. Till the white turned into black-edged red, then dulled to nothing.
When he woke, he called Lauren, gratefully telling the answering machine his number and that he was in short term accommodation in Kangaroo Point, leaving out that it was Johnny's apartment.
The next call was harder. He interrupted his mum’s litany of accusations and complaints, unsurprised that 'putting paid to Dad's chances' came well after 'you've ruined my dinner plans’, with a firm, “Mum. It's not wasted. Put it in the fridge. I'll pick it up tomorrow. I'm tired, really tired.”
He looked at his hands, the ink almost faded. He craved the soothing warmth of a shower, but the thought of Harry or Simon having news about Alan John Peters, sent his hand back for the phone. They had to know how to reach him. The cotton wool was lifting.
*
He quickly unpacked the few grocery items he’d bought with him and took a beer back out of the fridge. The mental list he'd started in the shower needed to be on paper. There wasn't much to write down yet, but the simple fact of holding pen to paper started ideas moving, till they glitched on Duncan's cryptic words about representation. As he flicked the end of the pen, the notion of loophole emerged with 'it's your out'. He put 'talk to Harry' next to it on the list.
Next 'library-research. Gay panic/HAD'. He needed to check everything to do with the preposterous idea that a fuck-off-not-interested wasn't enough; that someone would be tipped into insanity and a blind raging frenzied attack, on the off chance their no-thank-you was ignored. Was it a real thing that people did? How widespread was it? It had never even crossed his mind and now…
‘Don't get stuck on this bit. Focus. The list. Come on,’ Johnny’s words in his ear.
OK.
Why me??? fresh leads, new evidence???
Why not AJP? M-I-A!
Why not someone else? Too much work+doctoring more reports?
But… WHY?
Why waste time or effort on a dead poofter?
Seriously- who gives a shit?
The inquest- pointing away from suicide.
People know police were there [AJP arrest]+evidence at inquest
He got up and poured himself a drink and came back to ‘why’.
WHY
He circled it over and over.
Why the guilty plea? When they're pushing for not guilty?
Is this for a precedent?
Have they hurt or killed someone else?
Are they trying to protect someone? Besides themselves?
If this came out, what then?
There’d be a stink? Probably. Maybe not?
His thoughts rolled around on probably. There’d be press coverage. But would the cause become irredeemably visible? There's a chance. If the stink's bad enough who knows, it could lead to… what?
Lines and dots in Robert's brain were joining up.
Case unresolved another inquest? Trial?
Who? Who would be on trial? Them?!?
He drew a cloud shape around unresolved.
Unresolved=open
They want CLOSED!
Current plan I plead guilty not guilty finding
Is this even Possible?
They want: No-one faces any music. They don't. I don't.
Do they really give a shit about me? NO!
They’re doing the [looks like] right thing
Evidence:
-multiple police witnesses: me running from scene
-Witness/Pete saying I ran into the pub: banged-up/shit-scared.
BINGO!
-other witnesses? Blue? Drum them up from somewhere!!
Mitigating: for me
-Married/Dad/twins. Creates sympathy
Problem: I'm not at home
Solution: Temporary. Disruptive for wife/children.
-unblemished, likable, suburban professional
-not gay**
-called ambulance/help
jury busting to let me go
But: guilty plea. No jury!!
Judge only review (any influence? Possibly) Case closed
“So Johnny,” he said to the empty room, “Am I up for this? Do we have a choice?”
He lifted the glass to his lips, surprised to find it empty.
In the kitchen he refilled his glass, tipped baked-beans into a saucepan and lowered bread into the toaster, his mind still churning.
The phone ringing surprised him.
As he listened to Harry's voice, his face greyed, “But if Simon's found him, how is that 'doesn't look like good news'?”
“I don't know. He left a message,” Harry said. “I wasn't going to call. But… He said he'll know more tomorrow.”
Chapter 44
“You holding up?” Simon asked. They were waiting for their coffees at a footpath table outside Tuppy's Takeaway, not far from Johnny's.
Robert felt the sympathy, “Still breathing. I'm not exactly flavour of the month, am I?”
“Not with us liberal minded humanists. The bigots are loving you,” Simon's smile faded. “What did your research turn up?”
“Later,” Robert waved away the question, “I'd rather hear about yours. Thanks for calling Harry. He rang not long before you did.”
“Is he joining us?” Simon adjusted his position on the chair.
“I said I'd fill him in. Are you sure you've found him?”
“I found Norman Sparks. Norm, as he refers to himself, and he's alive and well, if not exactly kicking. And ostensibly, Alan John Peters died in a level crossing accident, near Rockhampton.”
