Truly Madly Guilty

‘We’re just going to make a quick visit,’ said Tiffany. ‘We’re going to just drop by.’


‘People don’t really do that anymore,’ said Vid gloomily. He’d love it if people still dropped by. He sighed. ‘You know, if we’re going where I think we’re going, it’s not a good idea. Are we going where I think we’re going?’

‘Yep,’ said Tiffany. She glanced at him and he shrugged. He avoided confrontation. He just wanted everyone to be happy. The conflicted expression on Vid’s face at a wake (he had a big extended family; people died regularly) was always priceless: I’m not allowed to look happy even though I’m at a party with all these great people!

‘Where are we going, Dad?’ Dakota leaned forward and pushed her face in between the two seats.

‘We’re going out to dinner.’ Vid pulled out his phone. ‘I’m going to make us a reservation right now.’

‘This is it,’ said Tiffany triumphantly. She drove slowly down a narrow, car-lined street. That was the problem with these cool, inner-city locations; it was all very funky, but you could never get a freaking parking spot.

‘You’ll never get a park,’ said Vid to her. He had his phone to his ear. ‘Forget it. It’s not a good idea. Yes, hello! I hear you have the best tempura in Sydney, is that right? It is right?! Great! Well, can we try some tonight? No! Come on now, are you sure you can’t squeeze us in a corner somewhere? We are only three small people!’

‘Where are we?’ said Dakota.

‘We’re going to drop by at Clementine and Sam’s place!’ said Tiffany with cheery bravado. The earlier conviction she’d felt suddenly wavered. She had their address only because Erika had given it to her so they could send Ruby a get-well present, for which they’d received a polite but stand-offish thank-you card by return mail. The thank-you card had made it clear: We don’t want to see you ever again.

‘What?’ said Dakota. ‘Why?’

‘Is that a spot? Can I do it?’ said Tiffany as she reverse-parked the Lexus in between two hybrids. ‘Of course I can do it, I am the champion!’

‘Got us a reservation!’ Vid waved his mobile triumphantly. He looked around. ‘So you found a spot.’

‘I’ll just go and knock on the door,’ said Tiffany. ‘Make sure they’re home.’

‘Yeah, we’ll stay here,’ said Vid. ‘You check if they’re … in the mood.’

‘Do they know we’re coming?’ said Dakota.

‘No,’ said Tiffany. ‘It’s a surprise visit. I’ll tell them we were in the area.’

Vid snorted.

Tiffany got out of the car, popped her umbrella open and slung her bag over her shoulder. She’d put one of Vid’s strudels from the freezer into her bag before they left.

She stopped. The rain fell softly, in a resigned, bored fashion, like it was sick of itself too. Tiffany paused. Was this the right thing to do? Eventually they would all forget. Move on with their lives.

‘Mum?’ Tiffany turned. Dakota had wound down her window and was poking her head out. She looked flushed and breathless. ‘If Holly and Ruby are there, and if they, like, do want to see me, um, I’ll, like, come inside.’

‘Me too,’ Vid leaned over the seat. ‘I’ll, like, come inside too.’

It was the right thing to do.

She drew herself upright and walked towards the house. She thought, randomly, of the night she’d auditioned for the job at the club, the terror of walking that catwalk in those high platform shoes. She remembered telling Clementine about it. Yeah, it really compared to an audition for the Sydney Royal Chamber Orchestra, but Clementine had needed distraction, so Tiffany just told her whatever crap came into her head, and afterwards she’d felt embarrassed, as if she’d made Clementine listen to sleazy, sordid stories from her past.

Number nine was a cute, charming, narrow little two-storey sandstone house. It was jammed in between two other almost identical-looking terraces. Tiffany studied them and wondered whether they were heritage-listed. She imagined a demolition ball smashing through all that charmingness and a three-level apartment block going up in its place. Wrong! Oh so very wrong and evil! But oh so profitable.

As she rapped the lion’s head door knocker, she wondered if she might hear cello music, but instead she heard a man’s voice shouting. Sam? Surely not. He was too genial. Now she could hear a woman yelling. Oh, jeez Louise. Great timing. She’d ‘dropped by’ when they were in the middle of a fight. She turned indecisively back towards the street. Mission abort? Go eat Sydney’s best freaking tempura.

The door swung open.

It was Holly. She wore a blue and white checked school uniform, long fluffy purple socks and strands of coloured beads around her neck.

‘Hello.’ Tiffany smiled. ‘Remember me?’

‘You’re Dakota’s mum,’ said Holly. ‘I’m going to invite Dakota to my birthday party. My daddy said she wouldn’t want to come.’

‘I think she’d love to come,’ said Tiffany.