Always Home Ch. 04

A part of me wondered at her behaviour: so talkative and uninhibited and just plain girlish. I was finding that I enjoyed it, though. Elsa was normally so serious and withdrawn, always seeming to be holding something back out of fear or natural reserve. She wasn't timid in her behaviour by any means, but always somewhat... considered. As if she'd pause to think before doing anything that might impinge on her dignity, or make anyone think less of her.

And yet here she was, clutching my hand, babbling to me almost as mindlessly as Marn, eyes bright in the streetlamps' glare, her voice clear and enthused.

"Finally!" she said, as we walked through the video library's parking lot. She fussed in her purse. "Do you think we should sign up first? I've got the deed to the house and the title transfer stuff in here somewhere."

"I'll take care of that," I offered. "You just go have a look around."

"Yay!" She cheered, leaning over to smooch my cheek. "You're the best, Ger. I love you, you know that?"

"Yeah," I said, a bit awkwardly. "I know it, Elsie."

With the help of the bored-looking cashier, I signed us up and was rewarded with a freshly laminated membership card. Elsa was in the action movies section, craning her neck sideways to read the titles.

"What is it with you and big dumb action flicks, anyway?" I teased as I came up behind her. "Aren't you supposed to be cultured and erudite and sophisticated?"

"Whatever gave you that idea?" she asked, taking a step towards me with her head still askew and almost knocking me down. I put my hands on her shoulders, bracing her gently.

"Nothing," I said. "It was something I came up with on my own. A genuine Gerald original."

"Freshly minted from Gerald's underused thinkbox," she said, and laughed. "I don't want to think when I see a movie, Ger. I just want to sit back and see big explosions and cars running into each other and hunky guys in ripped shirts."

"What about the spunky female sidekicks?" I asked, wounded.

She gave me an amused look. "Sorry, they don't interest me."

I sighed. "I'll be in arthouse."

"Aww, noooooo," she whined, grabbing my hand. "Come on, Ger, stay. Pick out something dumb and loud with me."

"I'm sure you're more than qualified to do that all on your lonesome, sis," I said, tugging at my arm. Her grip was insistent.

"Please, Ger?" she asked, the look in her eyes imploring. "Please stay?" She straightened up and, to my absolute horror, planted a kiss right on my lips. Right there in the middle of the store!

"Elsie!" I'd shouted her name before I could think to keep my mouth shut. It suddenly felt as if everyone in the store were staring at me. At us.

"Will you stay?" she asked, sullenly.

"All right." I sighed. "All right, let's just get something and leave."

"They don't know who we are, Ger," she said, under her breath, as we moved along the aisle. My ears were burning. "And what business would it be of theirs if they did?"

"I don't know what's gotten into you," I hissed back. She looked across at me, wounded.

"You know, Ger. You said it yourself. Or was it all a lie?"

"Elsie..." I pleaded, not even sure what I was pleading for. "Just... not here. They don't know us, sure, but... what if they do? What if they get to know us?"

"Fuck them," she said, harshly, letting go of my arm. "And fuck you too, for that matter. Gerald Flinders." She turned and walked off, heading for the exit.

"Elsie!" I grabbed her arm, pulling her back. She turned to me, unwillingly. I pulled her to me, wrapping my arms around her, holding her tight. "Let's not fight," I begged, burying my face in her hair. "Let's not do this."

"I just... I just want to show you how I feel," she choked, clinging to me. "Is that so wrong? Is that so... evil?"

There was no way to answer her question -- not there and then. Perhaps not ever.

* * *

In unspoken assent, I kept my arm around her as we walked back home. She was quiet and subdued again, keeping her head down as if to keep out the cold, though the night was quite mild. The bag of videos hung from my free hand; we'd borrowed a couple of action movies and a screwball comedy we'd thought Marnie might like. Elsa was carrying the snacks -- corn chips, Cheezels and a big bag of caramel popcorn. All ready for a big night in.

I wondered why the thought wasn't as appealing as it'd been twenty minutes ago.

I didn't know what to say to her. The scene in the video library had left me edgy. I didn't understand her reasoning; couldn't figure out why she suddenly wanted to take such blatant risks. Because they were risks. What if Marn dropped in to borrow some videos and the clerk said, "Oh yeah, I saw your brother and his girlfriend in here the other day"? What could we possibly do or say in the face of that?

Elsie. Poor Elsie. She must have been as mixed up about all this as I was. Even when we were alone, we couldn't be alone. The truth was always lingering like a spectre just behind us.

And so we walked through the darkness together. Yet always apart.

Elsie still didn't say a word when we got home. She just headed into the bedroom, pushing the door shut behind her. I stood at the front door, the plastic bag hanging from my hand, and stared after her for a few moments. Why? Why did things have to be like this?

I turned the lamps on and opened the Cheezels, pouring them out into a bowl. I poured myself some Coke and turned on the TV. Elsa emerged from the bedroom in an old sweatshirt and long pyjama pants, still hanging her head, her hair falling limp around her face. She just took a few steps into the living room and then stopped in the middle of nowhere, looking at nothing.

I walked up to her and folded my arms around her. She accepted my embrace passively, not moving. I stroked her hair gently. Drawing back, I kissed her cheek.

"I'm sorry I yelled at you," I said quietly, knowing that wasn't the issue at all. But I had to say something.

"I love you," she mumbled, not looking at me. "I hate the world. I hate the world that keeps me from loving you. I hate having to hide how I feel."

"Then don't," I said.

That startled her. She looked up at me, blinking owlishly. "What?"

"I was thinking," I said. "We've been through a lot. A lot of changes. They've pulled us closer together -- not just you and me, but Marn as well. The three of us. Why can't we..." I paused, wondering whether she'd be thrilled or appalled at my idea. It hadn't seemed so lame until I started saying it... "Elsie," I whispered, cupping her cheek with my hand. "Why can't it have brought us closer together?"

"I... don't get you," she said, hesitantly.

"I mean, no, we're not going to make out in front of Marn, or call each other pet names, or anything like that," I said, the words coming to me at random. "But we can hug each other, can't we? Kiss each other on the cheek when we're saying hello or goodbye? Adversity drives people together. Why can't we just claim it's done the same to you and me, Elsie? Why can't we—"

I stopped, aching, as a single tear ran down her cheek. She looked at me, the pain in her eyes stabbing into my heart. And then she swept forward to clutch me tight.

"Yes," she breathed. "Oh, yes. Ger, if we can do that... if we can be together and no-one'll make comments or stare at us... Oh God, I..." She choked. "I..."

"Hush, Elsie," I said, stroking her back as she trembled in my arms. "Hush, beautiful one. You've said enough. Let's just be, for now. Okay?"

Her arms tightened around me. "Ger," she whispered, thankfully. Then, letting go, she drew back and looked at me, eyes glimmering. Her smile was shaky but bright. "My only brother," she said, almost reverently. Tears welled in her eyes again. "My... my only love."

* * *

The insistent ringing of the phone startled me out of my doze. I was curled up on the couch behind Elsa, my arms wrapped around her and the imprint of her hair on my flushed cheek. In front of me, there was nothing but white noise on the TV screen. The movie must have just ended; I didn't remember when I'd fallen asleep, but it couldn't have been too far into the movie. Elsa had been tucked up against me like a demanding kitten, already asleep. She'd opened another bottle of wine and had made a sizeable dent in it before the first movie had even ended.

Carefully, not wanting to wake her, I extricated my left arm from underneath her and eased my way out from behind her. She rolled over onto her back, her breathing still regular, her face peaceful. At ease.

It wouldn't stay that way if I didn't answer the bloody phone, though. There was really only one person it could be, but what was she doing ringing this late at night?

"Hello?"

"Gerald?" Marnie sounded startled. "Is... is Elsa there?"

I shot a dubious look over at the couch. "She's gone to bed."

"Could you..." She paused, and suddenly I knew something was wrong. "Could you get her, please?"

Cradling the handset closer to my cheek, I moved into the kitchen, out of sight of Elsa. "She's had a bit to drink, Marn. I don't know if I can—"

"Oh, fuck." She sniffed, loudly. "Oh fuck oh fuck oh fuck. Never mind. I'll just... I mean, I'll just..."

"What is it?" I asked. "What's up?"

"I'm in the city and I wanna come home," she said, in a very small voice. "Only I can't afford a taxi and... and the night bus doesn't come anywhere near our place..."

"I'll come get you, Marn," I said. "Where are you?"

"I... I couldn't ask you to... N--never mind. I'll think of someth—"

"Bullshit," I interrupted. "Now, come on. Where are you?"

She sniffed some more. "At a... 7--11 near where the night buses leave. Just around the corner."

"I'll find you," I said, looking around and spotting Elsa's purse on the dining room table. "Just stay there, okay?"

"Th--thanks, Ger," she said, quietly.

"I'll see you soon."

"Yes."

I turned the phone off and put it back in the cradle. Elsa's huge keyring -- honestly, what did she need all these keys for? -- was at the bottom of her purse. Holding them together anxiously to minimise jingling, I tiptoed into the bedroom to get dressed.

* * *

Marn was waiting outside the 7--11 in her little black dress, shivering in the cool night air. It was getting on towards three in the morning, and while that was hardly the graveyard shift for a Saturday night, a city street was still no place for a young woman to be waiting alone.

I pulled up alongside her and reached over to unlock the passenger side door. Clutching her purse to her side, she pulled the door open and slipped in, shuddering and rubbing her bare arms. Wordlessly, I shifted the fan temperature to warm and turned it up high. Then I looked in my rear-view mirror for oncoming traffic, preparing to pull back out onto the street.

She didn't say anything as we drove through the quiet city streets, populated only by random gaggles of clubbers, or a staggering drunk muttering to himself as he shuffled along. And I didn't push the issue. To be honest, Marnie and I weren't that close -- never had been. She was four years younger than me, closer in age to me than Elsa, but I'd always seen her as something of an annoyance, someone to be tolerated rather than appreciated or empathised with. And she, for her part, was perfectly willing to play the bratty kid sister.

Was that strange? Four years was a big gap. I'd outgrown clubbing before Marnie had gotten old enough to tag along with me, not that I'd have had a bar of that. But still, I had far much more in common with Marnie -- athletic, academic underachiever, a social animal -- than Elsa, who had never been much interested in sports, or dating, or parties. Elsa had kept her head down and studied on weekends while I went out and had the teenage definition of a good time.

Maybe that was it. Maybe Marn and I polarised each other because we were so similar. It was Elsie's vulnerability that appealed to me: her shyness, her timidity. Her lack of confidence in herself. It was because I knew I could touch her, somehow, and she would feel it. She was receptive to it.

Marn was outwardly brash and confident. Nothing ever fazed her. Always on the go, go, go. I kind of knew that she could look after herself, when it came down to it. Which made it that much harder to talk to her in times like these.

She'd stopped shivering now, and had her hands up to the vents for warmth. I wished I'd thought to bring her a windcheater from home, but it was too late for that now. She seemed pensive, somehow, as I shot occasional glances at her. Not her usual self.

Finally, as we left the city behind and the urban sprawl gave way to the tree-lined streets of suburbia, I made an attempt.

"Kaz and Kelli had other plans, huh?" I asked, sympathetically.

Marnie's brow furrowed. "They had other friends."

"What?"

"Claire! That bitch. I turn up and it's like, 'Oh, hi Marn, weren't expecting to see you here, so we brought Claire along'. They hate Claire! We... they... always used to bitch about her behind her back. She's such a cow, such a stupid fucking cow."

"So that broke the deal, hey?"

She shot an angry look at me. "What fucking deal, Ger? It's off, it's over. Seems as soon as I moved out, Claire moved in. They wrote me off! They..." She broke off, her hands clenching in her lap. "They stabbed me in the back. Stupid fucking cunts. Who needs 'em? Who—"

I reached across with my left hand and patted her arm gently as she broke off once more, her breaths coming in short, staccato hiccups. "It doesn't have to be over," I said, keeping my eyes on the road. "There'll be times when Claire isn't there."

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw her turn to regard me, quizzically. "I don't need them," she muttered. "I'll make new friends. Who needs 'em. Bitches. Stupid backstabbing bitches."

"That's the spirit," I said, purposely pitching my tone so it was impossible to tell if I were being sarcastic or not. She continued to look at me, seeming almost puzzled.

"Yeah," she said, non-committally. "So, Elsie got pissed, did she? Can't say I've seen that before."

"No," I said. "No, neither can I."

"So was it funny?"

My body suddenly ached at the remembrance of Elsa's body pressed against me on the couch; of her reaching down to slowly and deliberately unsnap my jeans, sliding her fingers into my briefs to caress me with a velvet touch; of her playfully lifting up her sweatshirt and offering her hard nipple to my mouth. Of her kissing all over my face as her hands strayed across my back and chest under my shirt. The taint of wine on her lips, in her mouth.

"Ger?"

"No," I said, coming back to myself. "No, it wasn't funny at all."

* * *

The lights were on as I pulled up in the driveway. Elsa must have woken up and missed me. I'd left a hastily scrawled note -- Gone to pick up Marn. Back soon, Ger. -- but who knew if Elsa were in a fit state to read it? I had no idea if she normally got hangovers or not. I guessed I was about to find out.

The front door flew open as Marnie and I approached. Elsa was there, looking worr—

No. Looking furious.

"Hey," I said, as Marnie stalked inside, past Elsa. She still wasn't in any mood to discuss what had happened, but that didn't seem to be a problem at the moment. Elsa's hard glare was reserved exclusively for me.

"Where did you go?" Elsa asked, her voice tight.

"To pick up Marn," I said, not sure how to approach this. "I left you a note..."

"Yes, I read the note. Thank you."

"Marn was stuck in the city and couldn't get a ride home. So I—"

"So you decided to take my car and go get her. Yes."

Marnie was standing just behind Elsa, looking at the two of us sullenly. I stepped over the threshold, closing the door behind me. Elsa just stood there watching me, eyes cold.

"Well," I ventured, after a moment's uncomfortable silence, "it's late and we should all get some sl—"

"Why didn't you wake me up, Ger?" Her voice was still carefully controlled, but there was an unmistakable tone of challenge in what she was saying. One of those challenges where, no matter what I said, it was bound to be the wrong thing.

"Well, you were asleep, and I—"

"—decided to take my car. Just like that." Elsa made a sound that could have been a laugh, only there was no humour in it whatsoever.

"It wasn't his fault," Marnie said. "If those two hadn't—"

"No, it was," Elsa said, brusquely. "I was here. He could have woken me."

"I didn't think you were..." I paused, trying to think of a way to skate around the fact that she'd been drunk. "I thought it would be easier if I..."

"You don't take someone's car without permission, Ger." She kept looking at me with that level gaze, her eyes seeming grey and hard in the shadows.

"What was I supposed to do? You were... All that wine..."

"Stop it." Marnie's voice was low but tense. "Stop it, you two."

"Quiet, Marn." Elsa turned back to me. "Yes, Ger? What are you trying to say?"

I'd had enough of the third degree. I raised my eyes to her, meeting her gaze head-on. "I'm saying you were drunk, Elsa. You were in no fit state to dr—"

She slapped me. Hard.

Shocked beyond words, I couldn't say anything. All I could do was stare at her.

Elsa's tone was low and harsh. "Don't you ever take that tone of voice with m—"

"Shut up!" All the tension inside Marnie suddenly seemed to snap like a broken spring. She lashed out, shoving Elsa's shoulder, knocking her off-balance so she stumbled against the wall. "Shut the fuck up! What the fuck are you on about, sis?" she demanded. "You're not Mum! You can't tell him, or me, what to do!"

Elsa regained her footing and turned to face Marn, a bit unsteadily, but with icy rage in her eyes. "What did you—"

"Just look at yourself!" Marnie scoffed. "You can't even stand up straight! If Ger'd asked you to come get me, we'd be wrapped around a tree right now! You're shit-faced! He made the right choice! You're just being a bitch! And we're supposed to listen to you? Fuck that!"

Something like hesitation briefly swirled across Elsa's expression. Her hands, curled tightly at her sides, relaxed momentarily before tightening again.

"You'll listen to me," she hissed, "because I know better than you. I'm older than either of you. Wiser. God knows I—"

"Shut up!" Marnie snapped. "You going deaf in your old age? I said shut the fuck up!" She heaved an exasperated sigh, pushing past Elsa. "I'm going to bed. Go fuck yourself, Elsie." Then she paused, casting a venomous look over her shoulder. "'Cause no-one else is ever going to, are they?" And then, as Elsa stood there, utterly mute, Marnie stalked down to her room, slamming her door behind her.

Silence held sway for several infinite moments.

Elsa's back was to me, but I could tell from her hunched shoulders and clenched hands that she was... hurting. But then again, so was I. So I didn't go to her. Couldn't bring myself to try to comfort her, not when she'd been so hard on me and Marnie.

Elsa's shoulders started trembling after a while. Still neither of us moved. I lowered my head to stare at the carpet, wishing the pounding of my heart would go away. Or just stop.

I barely heard it when Elsa shuffled away, unsteadily. She moved into the bedroom, and the door swung closed. A moment later, there was a quiet click as she locked it.

And I was left standing there in the gloom, not knowing what the hell to do.