chapter fifty-four
Tiffany and Vid listened to the rain and stared dully at the crash site on the kitchen floor created by the dropped jar of chocolate nuts.
‘You wouldn’t think there’d have been that much glass in that jar,’ said Vid.
‘Or that many nuts,’ agreed Tiffany. ‘We’re okay, Dakota!’ she called out. ‘Just in case you’re wondering! Your dad dropped a jar!’
There was silence. Tiffany could just make out the hum of the television beneath the rain.
‘Nobody is hurt!’ called out Vid. ‘We don’t need any help!’
There was a pause. ‘Okay!’ called back Dakota in a magnificently dismissive tone.
Tiffany and Vid smiled at each other.
‘I should have guessed why she was behaving so strangely,’ said Tiffany. ‘It’s so obvious to me now that she would blame herself.’
‘You kept telling me there was something wrong,’ said Vid. ‘But why didn’t she just tell us how she felt before today?’ He lowered his voice, although there was no chance Dakota could overhear. ‘Why keep it all bottled up like that? That’s not good.’
‘It sounds like she was worried that we blamed her too. She seemed to think we were angry with her.’
‘Crazy!’ said Vid angrily.
‘I know. Well, we were upset, obviously, and distracted, and that’s what children do. They assume they’re to blame for everything. So everything we did she misinterpreted.’
‘But she wasn’t even there when it happened!’
‘That’s the point.’ Tiffany tried not to show her impatience. Vid had been there too when Dakota had sobbingly explained exactly why she thought everyone blamed her for Ruby’s accident, but he was so busy throwing up his hands in disbelief he hadn’t listened properly to a word she’d said. ‘She got it into her head that Clementine believed Dakota was in charge of the kids. I mean, we did keep telling her she was such a good babysitter.’
‘Yes, but –’
‘I know,’ said Tiffany. ‘Of course Clementine and Sam wouldn’t blame her. No one blames her. She’s ten years old, for God’s sake. We all knew she’d gone inside to read her book. If anyone was to blame in this family, it was me. I was the one offering lap dances to our guests.’
‘Stop that,’ said Vid quickly, predictably. He’d shut down every conversation like this since the barbeque. ‘It was a terrible accident.’
Yeah, talk about keeping things bottled up. No wonder Dakota thought that what had happened at the barbeque was a shameful secret. They’d never said a word to her about it! That must have seemed so strange and freaky to the poor kid. Of course she thought it was about her.
She remembered how the week directly after the barbeque she’d been so preoccupied with work. That bloody townhouse that had been nothing but trouble from the start had got passed in at auction, and the Land and Environment Court decision hadn’t gone her way. It had been a shit week all round, and beneath all that stress was the absolute horror of what had happened. She hadn’t given Dakota a thought. Not a single thought. Dakota had just been another job to cross off her list. As long as she had her uniform and lunch and was safely deposited at school, then the job was done. Vid had been the same. It had been a shit week for him too. He’d lost that government contract, which had turned out to be a blessing in disguise but he hadn’t known that then. By the time Vid and Tiffany had emerged from their fogs and started talking properly to Dakota again, the damage was done. The poor kid interpreted their re-emergence as her parents forgiving her.
Forgiving her!
‘I’ll get the dustpan,’ said Vid. ‘Don’t move. You have bare feet.’
He went to get the dustpan and broom.
Tiffany watched Vid’s massive shoulders as he crouched down, carefully sweeping up the glass and nuts. She thought about secrets and the damage they did.
‘I recognised one of the parents at the school today,’ she said.
‘Oh yeah, who was it?’ Vid kept sweeping.
‘From my dancing days,’ said Tiffany.
Vid looked up. ‘Is that right, eh?’
‘One of my regulars,’ said Tiffany. ‘Sort of a friend really. A nice guy.’
‘Good tipper?’ asked Vid.
‘Great tipper,’ said Tiffany.
‘Excellent,’ said Vid.
‘He booked a lot of private shows,’ said Tiffany carefully.
‘Good for him,’ said Vid. ‘The man had great taste.’ He studied the floor carefully and continued sweeping up the tiny fragments of glass.
‘Vid,’ said Tiffany. ‘Come on. It’s a bit … uncomfortable, isn’t it? Standing on the netball courts next to a guy who saw your wife strip?’
‘Why should I be uncomfortable?’ He looked up at her from the floor. ‘I’m proud of you. I probably wouldn’t want to see his wife strip. Did you sleep with him?’
‘I never slept with any of them,’ said Tiffany. ‘You know that.’
Vid studied her thoughtfully. ‘Well then, so what is the big deal?’ he finally said. ‘You weren’t a hooker.’
‘But it’s a prestigious private school. To some of those women there’s probably not much difference between a dancer and a hooker. If word gets out, if he tells his wife …’
‘He’s not going to tell his wife,’ said Vid. He stood up and moved to another corner of the floor where the nuts had rolled.
‘He might tell his wife, and then all the girls will find out, and Dakota will get bullied and that will lead to depression and that will lead to drug addiction.’
‘That drug, ice, now that’s a terrible drug,’ said Vid. ‘Let’s tell her to stick to the nice drugs, the ones that make you feel mellow, not like you want to claw off your skin.’
‘Vid.’
‘He’s not going to tell his wife,’ said Vid. ‘I would bet you a million dollars he doesn’t tell his wife. And so what if he does? All the girls will say is, “Oh, Dakota, you’re so lucky, your mum is very talented, very beautiful, very flexible.” ’
‘Vid.’
‘You did nothing wrong. Did you rob a bank? No, you did not. And if this thing you’re worried about happens, and it won’t happen, but if it does happen that Dakota is unhappy, we pull her out of that school! Easy. We send her somewhere else. Come on now. Not every man in Sydney saw you dance. We’ll find another school where no one knows you.’
‘Things aren’t that simple,’ said Tiffany.
‘They are if we want them to be,’ said Vid. He swept up the final shards of glass and stood. ‘You’re getting yourself all worked up over nothing. You’re finding catastrophes. It’s like with grumpy old Harry next door …’
‘That’s not nothing,’ said Tiffany. ‘Our next-door neighbour dies and we don’t even know. That’s not nothing.’
Vid shrugged. ‘Okay, so what did Dakota say in the car today? We feel regret. Yes, we do. Sure we do. We feel regret over Harry. We should have visited him more, even when he slammed the door in our faces. And if you want, you can feel regret over your dancing, even though you were good at it and you liked it and you didn’t hurt anyone, and you made a lot of money, you know, so I think, good for you, but okay, if you want, you feel regret. Just like we feel regret over little Ruby, you know, of course we do. We all feel terrible. We all wish that things had been different. We wish that very much. We wish – I wish – I’d never invited those people in the first place and I wish I’d kept a better eye on those little girls, so that every time I walk into my own backyard I don’t have to remember …’
He stopped. His mouth worked as if he were chewing on a tough piece of steak.
‘I’ll never forget her little white face,’ said Vid finally. He’d got control of his voice but his eyes were very bright. He held the blue dustpan full of chocolate nuts and glass tightly in his hand. ‘Her blue lips. The whole time I was calling the ambulance, I was thinking to myself, It’s too late. It’s too late. She’s gone.’
He turned away and Tiffany closed her eyes briefly.
A speeding ticket had arrived last week and she’d recognised the date immediately. A camera must have picked her up going over the limit when she’d driven Clementine to the hospital. She would never forget that drive. It was like a nightmare that stayed with you forever. She and Clementine had experienced that together. It was not right that Tiffany and her family be cut cleanly from Clementine’s life.
She thought of Dakota and how she’d buried her groundless remorse so deep she’d become an eerie ghost of herself.
‘Right,’ she said. She felt suddenly very, very angry. ‘Where are the keys? We’re going out.’