Page 15 of Wish You Were Here

Saskia

Jess and I are at Mrs Macquarie's Chair, which is at the end of the walk we’ve just taken from Circular Quay where we met and got a coffee.

This is one of my favourite walks in Sydney, and on a beautiful morning like this, it’s perfect.

I needed to talk to someone about Ben and my singing career, and she has news about a house.

We spent the first half of the walk discussing my FaceTime with Ben, and I couldn’t stop blabbing about how great it was.

‘It was crazy how easily we connected, Jess.’

‘Even on FaceTime?’

‘Yeah. He’s also way hotter in real life. It kills me that we live so far apart.’

‘You think if he lived here or if you lived there, that you’d be dating?’

‘Too right, but we don’t. So, as much as I like him, there’s nothing we can do about it. I definitely can’t go there. He could come here, I suppose, but for what? It has no future. So, we’re just going to be mates.’

‘Mates with FaceTime benefits?’

‘Not those sorts of benefits, Jess! We aren’t you and Aaron.’

‘Yet,’ says Jess with a tantalising grin.

‘It’s actually good to have a bloke I can talk to about stuff.’

‘What, I’m not cutting it anymore?’

‘You know what I mean. Plus, you’re not a bloke.’

‘Got it. It’s good to have a bloke as a mate, but to clarify, if he was here, you’d defo jump his bones?’

‘Probably. Okay, fine, defo, but he’s not, so it’s just mates.’

‘Like me and Az when I’m on my period.’

‘He’s not a fan of Shark Week?’

‘He’s not even going near the water, Sas. Which is fine by me.’

I’m looking at the view from Mrs Macquarie’s Chair with the Opera House and then the Harbour Bridge behind it, and it is stunning.

I never take for granted that I live in one of the most beautiful places in the world.

Even this early in the morning, there are quite a few tourists taking photos.

I see a young couple, who look like backpackers, and when they talk I hear English accents, which reminds me of Ben.

Jess and I finish our coffees before we start the walk back.

‘What’s happening with the house?’ I say, moving the conversation away from me and Ben, and back towards Jess and her search for a future-proof house with Aaron.

‘Right,’ says Jess tentatively. ‘So, you know we’re trying to buy our first house together.’

‘Yeah.’

‘And Sydney is like the most expensive city in the entire world.’

‘I do.’

‘And we need at least three bedrooms because we want to start a family, and it has to be a house because we’re tired of living in an apartment. Plus, Az wants a shed, more likely a man cave, but—’

‘Get to the point,’ I say as we walk along the pathway that runs along the edge of the Royal Botanic Gardens.

‘We’ve found a house, but it’s in Avalon Beach.’

‘Wait, what?’ I say, stopping and turning to Jess. ‘As in the Northern Beaches?’

‘It’s where Az grew up, and most of his family are still there.’

‘But it’s so far away. I’ll never see you.’

‘It’s under an hour in the car and only an hour and a half on the train!

’ says Jess jubilantly, as though what she has just told me is actually good news.

Right now we’re twenty-minutes apart so we can see each other whenever we want, but I know that if she moves to Avalon Beach, we will hardly see each other.

Our weekly walks will be a thing of the past. She will get pregnant, become friends with other pregnant, married women and slowly but surely our friendship will become more and more distant.

I understand their need and want to buy a house, and if Avalon Beach is where they want to live, I get it, but it still makes me sad.

Especially on top of Joe going on tour with Fudge Cake, it feels like another reminder of how shit my life is, and how thirty is approaching and I literally have nothing together.

I knew they might have to move out to get something, but I didn’t think it would be quite so far.

‘I’ll be sad to see you move away, Jess, but obviously I’d be happy for you and Aaron.’

‘Thanks, Sas, and it’s not even a done deal yet. We still have to put in an offer, get it accepted. Most likely, it won’t even happen.’

‘But you are looking that far away?’

‘We’re looking at anything we can afford. Plus, like I said, most of Az’s family live up that way, so it just makes sense,’ says Jess, and we keep walking until we get back to Circular Quay and we have to say goodbye.

‘Fancy dinner at ours tonight? I’ll get Az to cook something nice, and we can have a few glasses of wine, and—’

‘I can’t tonight. It’s Brian’s birthday, and we’re going out for a meal. I’m dreading it.’

‘Will he be in a kilt for the special day?’

‘Let’s hope not, eh.’

‘Let’s catch up soon, and Sas, the Avalon house probably won’t happen, but even if we get it, you and I will always be best mates. Like Taylor Swift and Ed Sheeran.’

‘Are they best mates?’

‘No idea, but I like to think that they are. Or Kylie and Jason!’

‘Both male and female friendships, which makes me ask, am I the Ed Sheeran, Jason Donovan in this scenario?’

Jess laughs. ‘I didn’t even think about that. Soz, Sas.’

‘See you soon.’

‘Defo,’ says Jess, and we hug before she walks away and I have to get back to Glebe and get ready for tonight.

We are going to an Indian restaurant in Kings Cross, and the weirdest thing is that Brian’s ex-wife Shirley is coming along, and Brian and Shirley’s daughter, Yvette, who even Mum described as ‘a bit off’, is coming too.

It should be an interesting night or perhaps absolutely awful.

The good thing is that I’m off work today, the weather is gorgeous, so perhaps rather than heading back to Glebe right away, I’ll spend some time outdoors.

I can get another coffee, have a stroll around The Rocks before some retail therapy.

It will be good for my mental health, and maybe it’s just what I need to clear my head.

The word that comes to mind when I meet Shirley and Yvette is weird.

I walk up to the restaurant with Mum and Brian – thankfully, sans kilt – and there they are.

Shirley is about sixty, has a shaved head of hair, a bull-nose piercing, quite a few tattoos and is wearing a large, floaty bright orange dress with thongs, and her toenails are the same orange as her dress.

She’s quite startling to behold, and because she’s quite a large woman – no judgement – there is a lot of her to behold.

Yvette, on the other hand, is whip thin, dressed in dark blue double-denim with long dark hair that’s been aggressively tied back in a ponytail.

She’s almost as startling as Shirley, but in a very different way.

Brian introduces us all before we head into the restaurant and sit down at our table.

Fortunately, as soon as we sit down, Shirley and Yvette head off to the ladies, Brian heads to the men’s toilet, and I am left alone with Mum.

‘This is a bit weird, Mum. Does his ex-wife always come to his birthday?’

‘Apparently so,’ says Mum, who is looking nice in a smart black dress.

‘And you’re okay with it?’

‘I mean, it’s his birthday, love, and it’s only one day out of the year.’

‘Okay, but they both seem a little off.’

‘The night has only just started, love,’ says Mum with a smile that leaves me feeling a little unnerved. ‘You might want to get a large glass of wine.’

Everyone returns from the loo, and it soon becomes clear exactly what Mum meant. We are looking at the menu, deciding what to order, when I first hear Yvette speak. For a woman who is older than me, she sounds like a sullen teenager.

‘Don’t like the look of any of it,’ mumbles Yvette, who immediately folds up her menu and slaps it down dramatically on the table. ‘All weird shit.’

‘Come on, Vetty,’ says Brian with an encouraging smile. ‘There must be something. It’s a big menu. What about the butter chicken? It’s mild, and I know you’re not a fan of spice—’

‘Irritable bowel!’ says Shirley loudly with a screechy, high-pitched voice. ‘Doesn’t get it from me!’

‘IBS is a real problem,’ says Brian. ‘It can be quite debilitating.’

‘I don’t have IBS. God!’ moans Yvette. ‘Anyway, I’m a veggo now.’

‘Oh, right, I didn’t know,’ says Brian. ‘Well, let me see. You could have the daal, Vetty. They have a lovely daal. I even get it myself sometimes, and you know I love my meat.’

‘I hate lentils. You know I hate lentils, Brian,’ replies Yvette. I’m trying to get the waiter's attention because I definitely need a large glass of something alcoholic.

‘Yeah, sorry, love,’ says Brian, who is beginning to sweat, before he’s even had any food.

‘Never liked lentils!’ screeches Shirley. ‘Or beans, eh. Probably shouldn’t be a veggo, Vetty. I’ll eat anything. Meat, fish, spicy, not spicy, chooks, snags and once in the bush, I tried these grubs. They tasted like utter shit, but I ate them because why not, eh?’

Fortunately, before this carries on, a waiter appears, and we order our drinks.

I get a large glass of white wine, and I think I might need a few to get me through the night.

As soon as the waiter is gone, the conversation continues.

It’s like watching a strange television show that’s supposed to be funny, but is too uncomfortable to really enjoy.

‘I’ll just have a plain naan bread. Happy?’ says Vetty.

‘She’s always like this,’ says Shirley. ‘We took her on a cruise once. Remember, Bri? They had an all you can eat buffet, and Bri and I were going at it, and Vetty was there gnawing down on a hunk of plain bread because apparently everything else gave her the shits.’

‘Maybe we should move on from Yvette’s IBS issues,’ says Mum, trying to get the night back on track, but this only seems to anger Yvette further.

‘Did you not hear what I said, Susie? It’s not fucking IBS!’

‘Right, yes, sorry,’ replies Mum, and I want to say something to defend Mum from Yvette and Shirley, but before I can, Brian steps in.

‘Vetty, I love you, but this isn’t going to be another Canberra situation, okay? You know I love you, but you can’t be rude to Susan like that. Now apologise.’

I am slightly taken aback by Brian, who is usually so mild-mannered, but it’s clear he’s willing to defend Mum against his own daughter and it makes me feel something like respect for him – although why he invited Shirley and Yvette to his birthday I have no idea because from what I can see, they’re both a fucking nightmare.

For a moment Yvette sulks, but then Shirley gives her arm a nudge and says.

‘For Christ’s sake, Vetty! It’s Bri’s fucking birthday, love, show some respect to Susie!’

We all look at Yvette, and there’s a horrible tension at the table. It’s clearly going to be an awful night, and I am longing for the waiter to return with our drinks.

‘Sorry,’ mumbles Yvette finally.

‘No worries,’ says Mum with a smile. ‘Let’s just enjoy ourselves and celebrate Brian’s birthday, shall we?’

‘Here, here to that!’ says Brian, trying to rally the troops.

There is a pause in the conversation, and we are all waiting for our drinks, when Shirley says completely out of the blue.

‘Oh, Bri, before I forget to tell you, I’m gay now. Probably always was, if I’m honest, and I’ve got a girlfriend. She’s got her own place in Hurstville. You know her, actually. Gloria Sparks? Dark hair, incredible tits!’

We all look towards Brian, who is sweating profusely.

‘Name rings a bell,’ says Brian uncomfortably, then the waiter appears and we all start drinking, and I, for one, don’t plan on stopping anytime soon.

The rest of the night continues in the same fashion as the first fifteen minutes.

Yvette complains about everything, eats hardly anything, while Shirley gives us all far too graphic details about her new lesbian love life in Hurstville, while eating everything within reach.

Brian tries to move the conversation away from Shirley and her highly sexual girlfriend, Gloria Sparks, while Mum and I drink quickly.

At least the food is delicious, and after two hours, and a quick rendition of ‘Happy Birthday, Bri’ we are all ready to leave and head off home.

The thing is, it’s only eight o’clock. Mum and Brian are heading back to Glebe, Shirley to her lesbian lover in Hurstville, and, apparently, Yvette is meeting a friend for dinner, which feels rather odd, but then again Yvette is rather odd.

After we all say goodbye, I am left in Kings Cross with an entire night ahead of me, feeling a little drunk and in need of something to do.

I could call Jess, but she probably won’t be up for coming out after eight o’clock, and will probably suggest popping over to their apartment, which isn’t awful, but I’m feeling the need for something different.

Maybe it’s the alcohol or everything else that’s been happening in my life recently, but I’m feeling needy.

I scroll through my phone until I come to his number, and my finger hovers over it for a moment.

Is this a truly terrible idea? Probably, but sometimes in life the worst ideas turn out to be the most fun, and don’t I deserve a little fun?

It’s definitely the alcohol talking. My finger eventually pushes the little call symbol; the phone is ringing, and after a moment, he answers.

‘Sas,’ he says, clearly surprised.

‘I thought I told you that only my friends call me Sas.’

‘You’re calling me at eight o’clock, you sound like you’ve had a few drinks, so either I’m a mate or you’ve called because—’

‘Because I thought that maybe you’d like to get a drink or something.’

‘A drink?’

‘Or something.’

‘Where are you?’

‘King’s Cross.’

‘I’m in Bondi. Can you get here in thirty minutes?’

I take a moment to think about it. A night in Bondi with best man Brad.

I know that Jess would hate the idea, potentially hate me for doing it – and it might break Caroline’s heart if she ever found out – but there is something inside of me that wants to do this.

I tell him I’ll be there in less than thirty minutes, and I’m soon in the back of an Uber on my way to Bondi to meet up with Brad, all thoughts of abstaining from men and sex clearly out of the window.