Dessi's Romance Read Online Free Page B

small voice.
    I grit my teeth.
‘I don’t know, Mum.’ Brewing coffee, I watch her. She doesn’t look sick, but
like she always does: untidy and overweight. Nothing that some exercise, a
decent haircut and a job wouldn’t cure. As usual she’s over-reacting. The phone
rings. I answer it and heave a sigh of relief. ‘It’s for you, Mum. Hannah.’
    Great, I’m off
the hook.
    Next day, and
because I know this conversation will be fraught, I’ve left it for the last
minute to say casual-like, ‘Might go and see Robert while I’m up there. What do
you think, Mum?’
    She isn’t keen.
I can tell by the way her mouth scrunches up and her chin wobbles. ‘Why would
you want to do that? I thought you were still mad at him. I know I am. Anyway, you two haven’t
spoken in ages. Why the sudden change?’
    ‘See how they live?
Maybe get some money out of him?’
    ‘He sends just
enough to keep us going, no more than he has to. You know that, Em. And you
also know what a struggle it’s been to keep you at school.’          
    She seems to
forget that I’ve worked part-time in the supermarket-from-hell since I was
fifteen. No thanks for being independent.
    ‘Doesn’t matter
about my feelings, does it?’ she adds in her little girl voice.
    ‘He did send me
$500 towards this trip.’ I remind her. ‘The least I can do is visit.’
    ‘Please
yourself.’ She picks up her copy of What Your Dreams Mean to show this discussion is
over .
    If only I earned
enough to move away from home friend, but not for the first time, do I envy her
for everything, except of course, this la. Lucky Dessi never has these
problems. I love Dessi, can’t imagine life without my closest test disaster. If Julie
could only find a decent job, maybe she could spare some extra cash for her
daughter. Though I usually spend every cent I earn on art materials and
vintage clothes, this time I’ve managed to save $800. Plus the $500 Dad sent
me. If I’m careful that should be enough. Clever Dessi found that by booking
our own airfares and accommodation rather than going through the official
‘Schoolies Travel’ we’d save heaps. So now we’re staying in a high-rise unit at
Broadbeach. Everyone else will be in Surfers, but I’ve checked this out and
Broadbeach is only a bus-ride away.
    All the same, I know I’m going to miss Dessi. And I worry that she’ll get too depressed
back here all alone. The truth is, I feel responsible for that accident. Didn’t
I ask Jon for a lift when she was so against it? I sigh to myself then say,
‘Mum, I’m going to finish packing,’ and escape to my room.
    This doesn’t
take long because I’ve heard that there’s great shopping on the Coast. I double
check that my sketchbook, charcoal, fine-line pens, the small box of water colour
crayons, cell phone and iPod are in my second backpack. Dessi wants me to
phone/ sketch/ text. It’s the least I can do.
    I check my
watch. Abdul should be here by now.
    I’d asked him to
drive me to the airport. At first he agreed, then looked doubtful, so maybe I did push too much. Still, we have seen each other twice
already, once when I took him to meet Dessi and later when he picked me up and
took me to Chapel’s. Or maybe that only counts as once.
    Still, when he
brought me home, I made us a coffee and then showed him some of my latest work.
His comments were perceptive. What a relief after Danny who wouldn’t know a
Renoir from a Picasso and cared even less. Julie was in bed snoring lightly so
I expected us to continue where we’d left off. But he shook his head and stood
up to leave. ‘Got an early morning meeting, and I’m flat out all tomorrow. But
I’ll try and get you to the airport. If I can’t, I’ll call.’
    Yet it’s gone
eleven, I have to be there by one, and I still haven’t heard. I call his cell
phone. Voicemail. I try his landline. Waiting, I peer at my reflection, wonder
if I need a darker lipstick, but then maybe my lips are pink