Each Way Bet, page 17
‘No problem,’ said Emily, nodding her head in agreement. ‘Where do we start?’
‘And can I help?’ asked Sybil unexpectedly.
‘Firstly, what are all these papers on the bench?’
‘They’re the horse quiz answers.’ Emily took them from her sister and rolled them into a tube. ‘I haven’t got round to marking them.’
‘Don’t forget mine!’ called Mary from over at the table. ‘I’m awake to you lot! Oh, hello, Jill dear. Have you been here all morning?’
‘No, Mum,’ Jill smiled at her mother, ‘but I gave you a kiss before when I came in here. And I’ll come and sit with you as soon as I finish up lunch. Now –’ Jill turned back to the kitchen – ‘Jack, would it be too much to ask you to mark the horse quizzes for us?’
‘Of course not,’ Jack replied stiffly, taking the rolled-up papers from Emily and disappearing with them into the lounge-room. Tim, who had been hovering behind Emily and Jill for the past ten minutes, now took a surreptitious step backwards and then four steps sidewards, a manoeuvre that swiftly and relatively silently took him into the lounge-room as well. Matt stuck his head around the doorway just as Tim disappeared through it.
‘Lunch ready yet?’ he asked hopefully.
‘No, but you can –’
‘I was gonna get the next game ready,’ Matt interrupted quickly, ‘seeing as we haven’t played one for ages.’
‘Fine, you do that.’ Jill turned her back on him. ‘Now, let’s see. Sybil, do you think you could possibly take those sandwiches there into the lounge-room and offer them around? That should take the edge off everyone’s hunger pains while we get the rest of this together.’
Jill slid off her stool. ‘Good to see you did the dishes at least. Now, we’re going to lay a smorgasbord out on the table over there. What the hell is that? Punch? Good god. Anyway, Megan, I want you to get a pad and go take drink orders. And find Kate and tell her to get out here and help. She can put out plates and stuff. Cricket, I want you to get serviettes and cutlery and put them on the table. We’ll take care of your clothes after lunch. And your hair. Emily, get every bit of salad vegetable you can find and chop them up for platters.’ Jill opened the fridge, gestured towards the vegetable crisper and then pulled a packet of rolls out of the freezer. ‘And grate some cheese. Then put some sour cream into a nice bowl, and also some taco sauce. I’ll fix up the mince because Corinne always does it so blandly, and I’ll also heat the taco shells. And the rolls. That should just about do it . . .’
She closed the fridge then looked across at them: ‘Well, what are you all waiting for? Me to do everything? Go on, get to it!’
Jillian
Jill wiped her mouth with a serviette, crumpled it up on her plate and then leant back, sighing contentedly as she looked around her. Lunch had brought with it a bit of a hiatus, with everybody needing to stop talking long enough to fill their mouths. This had given Jill a chance to think, and she had decided a couple of things. One was that breast-fondling definitely did not count as adultery. After all, since her marriage her breast had been fondled by countless other people. Even apart from her four babies, there were the nurses who when Matt was born had had to teach her how to attach him. And then there was that mammogram she had had last year. Her entire chest had been manipulated more than a pile of pastry that day.
Having decided this, Jill had moved on to the positives. Like the fact that Tim, who could be assumed to have had some experience, couldn’t tell her breast, which had fed four children, from Emily’s breast, and both of Emily’s breasts, she had noticed earlier, were disgustingly perky – presumably because they had been used for entertainment purposes only. This thought had made Jill straighten her back and decide that tomorrow she would go out and buy some more flattering clothes. After all, if you’ve got it, why not flaunt it.
Lunch had also brought a clear division of the sexes. All the males had gravitated instinctively towards the lounge-room, where the television was displaying the preliminaries for the next race, while the women had automatically pulled out chairs around the dining-room table, where the food was spread out before them and they could continue to help themselves. The only exceptions to this rule were Kate, who was kneeling at her father’s feet working out the adjusted odds for each horse, and that ghastly cousin of Will’s. She had settled herself on the couch beside Jack with a plateful of lettuce and two miniscule slithers of avocado. Jill decided that if there was one thing she despised more than attractive, middle-aged predators, it was attractive, middle-aged predators with self-control over their food consumption.
‘So how’s it been so far?’ Jill turned to Emily, whose overflowing plate displayed her lack of solidarity with the predator. ‘Any problems?’
‘None whatsoever,’ replied Emily airily, spooning sour cream into her taco.
‘Except for the dog,’ said Charlotte helpfully, ‘and the window.’
‘And Matt hanged me by my foot again,’ Cricket pouted. ‘I nearly died. And Kate brushed my hair and it hurt. A lot.’
‘And Cricket wet herself,’ added Charlotte, earning herself an outraged glare from her youngest cousin.
‘And Cruella –’ Megan, who had been uncharacteristically quiet thus far, inclined her head towards the next room – ‘who’s a serious pain in the butt.’
‘And I seem to have run out of green wool,’ said Mary, rummaging around in her crochet bag.
‘And I mithed you,’ said Cricket, leaning her head against her mother’s shoulder and gazing up at her with open-mouthed adoration.
‘Tell her to close her mouth!’ yelled Kate from the lounge-room. ‘I can see her food from here! Totally gross!’
‘What about the dog? And the window?’ asked Jill, closing Cricket’s mouth gently.
‘Matthew threw a carpet bowl through it.’ Charlotte smiled at first one aunt and then the other. ‘But I’m sure it was an accident. Although I can’t be one hundred percent sure as I seem to remember that that may have been when I was busy looking for the piano.’
‘The window that the couch is pushed against?’ asked Jill, ignoring the bit about the piano because she had no desire to discover why her niece would have been searching for a piano in the first place – she felt only relief that it wasn’t likely she would find one.
‘That’s the one,’ Emily sounded upbeat, ‘but it’s only a window. And Jack said he made enough in the first race to cover the cost anyway.’
‘Oh, good,’ Jill said dryly as she gazed over towards the window. ‘Bloody Matt.’
‘Bloody Matt!’ repeated Cricket happily, spitting masticated taco shell over her mother’s left sleeve in her excitement.
‘Dum-diddle-dum-diddle-dum . . . how much is that do-ggie in the window?’ sang Jill’s mother tunefully as she tied some purple wool onto her crochet hook. ‘Did I win that quiz?’
‘I don’t know.’ Emily put her taco down and called to the lounge-room, ‘Jack! Have you finished marking those quiz answers yet? Who won?’
‘Just finished!’ Jack called back before appearing in the doorway and holding up a sheaf of papers. ‘And there was a draw for first place between the bloke who came and then saw and then conquered – and my mother. Well done, Mum!’
‘My word!’
‘I take it you mean me?’ asked Adam with a self-satisfied grin. ‘Excellent! I knew this T-shirt’d give me an edge.’
‘What?’ Jill’s mother laid down her crocheting and glared narrowly across at her son-in-law. ‘Have you got mine there?’
‘Sure have.’
‘Did you double-check it?’
‘Sure did.’
‘Oh I see,’ Mary Broadhurst nodded sagely and then narrowed her eyes at everyone in turn, ‘it’s like that, is it? Can’t win by fair means so you have to win by foul. First the pen and now this. Disgusting.’ As soon as she spat out the last word, Mary rose and, ostentatiously looking over everybody’s head, thudded from the room with her poncho floating regally behind her.
‘Oh, Jack,’ murmured his mother.
‘What do you mean, “Oh, Jack”?’ asked her son indignantly. ‘How is it my fault? She didn’t even get one answer right! Not one!’
‘But still .. .’
‘Okay, listen to this.’ Jack pulled out one sheet of paper from the sheaf and waved it in the air. ‘For the question “What is an each way bet?” she crossed out all the multiple choice answers and wrote “bisexuality”!’
‘You should give her a mark for that!’ Adam joined Jack in the doorway. ‘It shows definite originality. And it’s not exactly wrong either.’
‘She said that Mr Ed was a past winner of the Melbourne Cup!’
‘Isn’t he?’ asked Matt, shoving his way into the family room.
‘Her drawing of a gelding has a three-foot –’
‘We get the picture,’ interrupted Jill quickly.
‘No you don’t.’ Jack waved a remarkably accurate picture of a well-endowed horse in front of her. ‘I did!’
‘But look, mate,’ Adam put his hand on Jack’s shoulder, ‘the thing is that I think Corinne just lets her think she’s won anyway. It makes her happy.’
‘And it’s not like it hurts anyone,’ added Jill.
‘That’d be right. It’s always my fault, isn’t it? No matter what I bloody do.’ Jack flung the papers down on the table in front of Jill and gave her a disgusted look before stalking into the passageway after Mary.
‘Everyone’s swearing today,’ commented Cricket conversationally.
‘Margaret and Adam – you might as well pick a prize,’ said Jill, getting up from the table and starting to stack dirty plates. ‘After all, you two did win. So well done.’
‘Excellent,’ said Adam, rubbing his hands together as he headed over towards the prize table.
‘Hey, Adam,’ Emily called, ‘what’d you do with those pens you had earlier?’
‘I’ll get them for you in a tic.’
‘Can I help anyone?’ Sybil joined the company in the family room, closely followed by Tim, who took Adam’s place lounging in the doorway.
‘You could pick your prize.’ Charlotte folded her serviette neatly and placed it on top of her cutlery. ‘You won flapjack before but no-one told you that there’s prizes.’
‘That’s fine. I don’t need a prize.’
‘No,’ Emily leant back and rubbed her stomach happily, ‘you won fair and square. Go over there and pick a prize. Quick, before Adam pinches the best one.’
‘And you too, Grandma,’ Megan said to Margaret, ‘you deserve it.’
‘As do I.’ Mary flounced back into the room and beamed at everybody as she headed over to the prize table. ‘Told you there’d been a mistake, didn’t I? And now that stupid boy admits he didn’t check mine properly. It was a three-way draw. I knew it.’
‘I’m taking this.’ Adam held up a slim navy-coloured book with a gold printed title: How to Pick a Winner. ‘I desperately need this – both for my betting and for my love-life.’
‘Who doesn’t?’ said Tim darkly.
‘Hey!’ Emily glanced at him with surprise. ‘I’m right here, you know!’
‘And I’ll have these seeds.’ Margaret held up a bundle of plant seed packets. ‘Lovely, Jill, thanks.’
‘Oh, look!’ Sybil’s low-modulated voice suddenly shot high with excitement. ‘I haven’t seen one of these since I was a child! My goodness, it takes me back!’
‘I wish,’ muttered Kate.
‘I have to have it! Unbelievable – a slinky!’
‘Fuck it!’ screamed Cricket wildly.
‘That’s it! You’re going to bed!’ Jack, who had just reappeared in the family room, hoisted his small daughter out of her chair so quickly that her mouth was still open as he carried her out of the room.
‘My word,’ said Margaret faintly.
‘Get her changed into something decent while you’re there!’ Jill called after him quickly, before turning back to the assorted company. ‘I’m so sorry, everybody! I can’t think where she heard that, really I can’t. We never say that word!’
‘That’s okay,’ said Emily magnanimously, ‘kids pick up the weirdest stuff. Probably not even your fault.’
‘Tsk, tsk – that stupid, stupid boy,’ Mary muttered as she continued to peruse the prizes, totally oblivious to anything else. ‘Just goes to show that if you want a job done properly, you’re better off doing it yourself. Can’t trust anybody. Relatives, hah!’
‘That daughter of yours is an interesting character,’ Adam grinned at his sister.
‘Looks like Little Orphan Annie,’ added Tim.
‘I don’t know who dressed her this morning,’ Jill flashed an accusing glance at Emily, ‘but I assure you that she does have some decent clothes.’
‘I didn’t mean her clothes,’ Tim said, embarrassed, ‘I meant her looks.’
‘Hey, how about we play the next game?’ suggested Matt. ‘It’s all set up.’
‘Okay. And what am I doing?’ Jill looked down at the plates in her hands with surprise, and then passed them over to Emily. ‘These are all yours, aren’t they?’
‘No problem.’ Emily placed the pile carefully onto the table. ‘After the game, though. Otherwise, everyone’ll get impatient.’
‘I really didn’t mean her clothes,’ Tim said to nobody in particular, ‘it’s the red hair and all. Not the clothes.’
‘Oh, angora wool!’ Mary held up a double ball of fluffy pea-green wool. ‘Lovely! I shall crochet this straight into the rug I’m making for that frigid girl.’
‘Frigid girl?’ repeated Jill in confusion.
‘Oddly enough, I think she means me.’ Sybil looked amused.
‘Really,’ said Jill frostily, raising her eyebrows as she glanced down at Sybil’s expanse of tanned leg.
‘Okay!’ Adam clapped his hands and stood up. ‘Let’s get to the game! Matt, what is it, and where is it?’
‘Outside. It’s drawn up on the concrete out there.’
‘Hang on, Adam! The pens, remember?’
‘Oh, you won’t need pens for this game, Aunt Em.’ Matt opened the sliding door for the players. ‘It’s all done with chalk. Come on.’
Jill waited until everybody had slowly trooped through the sliding door, and then quickly tidied the dining-room table and took the dishes over to the island bench. While she had no intention of actually washing any of them, she still preferred to have the mess centralised, so to speak. After running a damp cloth over the table, Jill threw it skilfully into the sink and ducked next door to assess its state of cleanliness. To her surprise, the first thing she saw was her father-in-law, still firmly ensconced on the three-seater couch.
‘James! I thought you’d be outside playing games.’
‘And pigs might fly.’
‘Come on,’ Jill smiled at him encouragingly, ‘you’ll enjoy it.’
‘Then why aren’t you out there?’
‘I just thought I’d clean up quickly in here . . .’ Jill glanced around as she said this and her voice faltered to a stop as the extent of the damage became clear. Around her feet was a scattering of corn chips which had been ground into the carpet at regular intervals. There were cushions and form guides over all available seats, and a multitude of torn-up betting slips spread across the carpet. There was a collection of dirty mugs on the coffee table, complete with an upturned sugar bowl that sat like a crystallised island in the middle of a shallow lake of congealed coffee. The sandwich platter was balanced on the armrest of the two-seater couch laden with an assortment of crusts, rejected slices of gherkin and the cat, who was happily licking up titbits. Two smudged wine glasses sat on the Perspex lid of the stereo cabinet and a long thread of green wool snaked out from underneath the armchair to the far corner, where it had been wound many times around the remote control.
‘Pretty bad, huh?’ James nodded smugly as Jill continued to stare silently at the mess. ‘Yep, pretty bad. There’s a cat eating off the plate there, too. Thought you were having a break? That your sister was doing everything?’
‘So did I.’
‘Huh,’ James levered himself out of his seat slowly. ‘I’ll give you a hand.’
‘Thanks, James,’ Jill smiled at him in gratitude, ‘I really appreciate it.’
They started on the coffee table, piling the mugs and sugar onto the sandwich platter with its remnants and taking it through to the kitchen. The cat leapt sideways as Jill took the platter from underneath it and, giving her a haughty look, stalked out of the room and up the passage. Then, while James wiped the surfaces with the damp cloth, Jill started to tidy up the two-seater. She stacked the form guides together and placed them on the newly cleaned coffee table, and then straightened the cushions. While doing this she found a handful of pens tucked down the side of the couch, so she gathered them up and took them through to the kitchen to put into the red plastic tumbler she used to hold spare pens and pencils. But as she slid them in, she noticed one pen with a much stranger shape than the others. Feeling only mildly curious, she took it back out and held it up for a closer look.
‘My god!’ Jill dropped it onto the counter in shock and then, after staring at it for a few seconds, picked it up gingerly again. Only to find that she hadn’t been mistaken at all – it was indeed a pregnancy test. And, judging from the smudges inside the little window, a used pregnancy test at that. What on earth was a used pregnancy test doing lying on her two-seater couch? Maybe it had fallen out of the pocket of that woman? Or maybe . . . Jill froze momentarily as the thought hit her – maybe it was Emily’s. She was the only other realistic candidate, and she had been pretty insistent about finding the pens before. So maybe she knew it was mixed up with them. Jill turned the test over in search of clues, a name-tag perhaps, but it told her little except that whoever had used it was most probably pregnant. Because showing faintly through the blurriness of the little window was a smeary blue line.
