Sole Survivor. Derek Hansen

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СКАЧАТЬ thrown the towel through the gap. No, he’d just marched straight in and stood ogling her.

      “Anything else?”

      “John, I am a woman. You are a man. I am naked and you are staring.”

      “Sorry.” He made no move to go.

      “John, leave me the towel. Put it on the rail. And then please go next door and punch Merv the Perv’s lights out. And when you’ve done that, ask him to do the same to you for the same reason.”

      “Jesus, Rosie. Here’s your bloody towel. Don’t bother to say thanks.” He left and closed the door behind him. Rosie didn’t move. She knew better. The door pushed open again. “Want a cup of tea?” John looked vaguely disappointed.

      “Yes, please. Now do be a good boy and piss off.”

      “Did you get any milk?”

      “Why would I get milk? There was plenty when I left this morning.”

      “I used it on my cornflakes.”

      “John, when you’re drinking your black tea, get the paper and look through the flats-to-let section.”

      “What do you mean?”

      “Exactly what it sounds like. Piss off. Out of my bathroom. Out of my flat. Out of my life. Take as long as you like, but if you’re not gone in one hour you’ll find all your stuff out on the street.”

      “You can’t do that. It’s raining. Where will I go?”

      “John, you’re still staring. Don’t stare at me. One, I can throw you and all the rubbish you flatteringly call your things out onto the street. You know I can. We know each other well, and you know I’ve done that before. Two, I don’t care if it’s raining. Three, I don’t care a damn where you go. Just go.” Fixing him with the look he’d come to fear, she sat up. He saw her breasts clearly, which is what he’d wanted to see all along, but more than that he saw she meant business. He went.

      Rosie sat at the kitchen table with her head in her hands. John had gone by taxi, but not without argument, not without some of her things as yet undiscovered, and not without asking if he could borrow her car. She was alone again, and wondering if she should cry. The flat was cold and damp and there was no milk. Tomorrow she’d have to begin writing up the report based on the findings of the group discussions she’d conducted. What, she wondered, was the benchmark for removing skid marks, and did anyone really care? There was nothing to eat except limp vegetables, a can of baked beans that John had left behind because he’d put it in the wrong cupboard and a butterscotch-flavored Gregg’s instant pudding, which needed milk. Crying seemed the preferred option when she heard knuckles do a drumroll on her door.

      “Come in, Norma, it’s not locked.”

      “Hi,” said Norma brightly. “Guess what? You and me are going out to dinner. Loverboy’s had to fly down to Wellington on business. I stopped off at the Bistro and reserved a table.”

      “Don’t tell me,” said Rosie. “John rang you to see if he could sleep the night at your place.”

      “How’d you know?” Norma seemed genuinely puzzled.

      “Doesn’t matter. It’s good to see you, I need a friend and I’d love to go out to dinner with you because there’s nothing to eat here.”

      Norma hung her raincoat on the back of the door and flopped down on a chair opposite Rosie. “What happened?”

      “Nothing, everything, the usual, what the hell does it matter? In a funny way I’ll miss him. Sometimes I think I’m the most useless creature on earth, then I come home and John’s here and suddenly I feel reassured.”

      “Negative thoughts,” said Norma.

      “I’ve earned them,” said Rosie.

      “There’s never any excuse for negative thoughts. You’re brainy, your whole illustrious family is brainy, and they’re all wonderfully successful.”

      “Except me.”

      “Except you. You don’t even try.” Norma stuck a Du Maurier in her mouth and lit it. She had the knack of talking while her cigarette sat glued to her bottom lip.

      “What do you mean?” Rosie wasn’t protesting but complaining. She was due a good moan, and moans were only good if there was someone to hear them. “I tried. I still try. Trouble is all I ever wanted to be was a beatnik, make pottery and love everybody and throw pink rose petals in the air. Instead I became a doctor and went off to save the world. They sent me to India, which was full of sick people, but didn’t give me any medicines to save them. Instead of curing them, I joined them and had to be evacuated home. It’s all been downhill since then.”

      “Stop feeling sorry for yourself. I’ve got a bottle of wine in the car. We could drink it now and get another to drink over dinner. What’s this?” She spotted the sodden pile of letters and idly peeled them apart. Bills, more bills and a large envelope with Green Lane Hospital printed across the bottom. Norma raised her eyes questioningly. When she shook the envelope something slid around inside it.

      “Probably notification from the VD clinic. That would just about be my luck.”

      “Better open it and see,” said Norma.

      “You get the wine, I’ll open the envelope. Probably need a drink by the time you get back.”

      Norma grabbed the umbrella Rosie hadn’t bothered to take to work with her and dashed out. Rosie picked up the envelope from the hospital and weighed it in her hands speculatively. A fund-raising brochure? A letter from her father? No, he’d know better than to write to her. She could imagine what it would say. “Please find enclosed my written disapproval of the way you are conducting your life.” But perhaps for once the old boy might have got it right. She tore the envelope open and picked up the letter that fell out. She chuckled at the address. “Care of the Professor.” Well the professor had done the right thing and forwarded it on, or at least his receptionist had. She turned it over and looked at the return address, printed neatly on the back though somewhat blurred by rain. “Red O’Hara, Wreck Bay, Care of Col Chadwick, Port Fitzroy, Great Barrier Island.” Her first thought was that she’d won a holiday. She wondered if it was raining on the Barrier.

      She pulled a knife out of the cutlery drawer and slipped it beneath the flap. Gingerly she opened the envelope, careful not to damage the contents. She spread the letter and will out on the table and read them.

      “Who the hell is Bernie Arbuthnot?” she asked out loud. The name rang a bell, albeit distant. She thought back to when she was a child, accompanying her father on his weekend rounds. She vaguely recalled an old tubercular alcoholic who gave her sweets in exchange for stolen bottles of her father’s beer, and told her rude jokes. She couldn’t remember his name but guessed it was him. “Bernie, you old bastard,” she said.

      “Who’s a bastard?” said Norma as she shook out the umbrella at the door. “You haven’t got a dose, have you?”

      “Norma, Green Lane Hospital doesn’t have a VD clinic. It has my father instead. Tell me, what do you know about Great Barrier Island?”

      “Not much. You can see it away СКАЧАТЬ