Birdseye Read online

  ‘Best?’ Ma took single words and made them into daggers.

  Once again, Pa God parried easily. ‘You got me there, Elizabeth. Maybe not the best decision I’ve ever made, but certainly a good one.’

  ‘So what was the best decision you ever made, Godfrey? Perhaps you’d like to let us in on that? Was it when you decided to leave me here alone, with a small child?’

  ‘No, Beth.’ Pa’s voice was quiet. ‘That wasn’t the best decision. It was the hardest.’ He turned to Annie. ‘Because it meant leaving you. But there was no other way, not without violating the terms of the agreement.’

  ‘The agreement?’ Annie swivelled her head towards her mother.

  ‘You never told her, then?’ Pa asked.

  ‘Obviously not, Godfrey. If I hadn’t told her about the divorce, I was hardly likely to let her know anything else, now was I?’

  ‘I don’t understand.’ Annie sounded bewildered. ‘Mother?’ She paused. ‘Godfrey? What are you talking about?’

  ‘It’s simple, Ann. Your mother agreed to let me have a divorce if I signed over complete custody to her.’

  ‘But that’s all right, surely?’ asked Annie. ‘Even if one parent has custody, the other can still have visiting rights?’

  We swung our heads from one side to the other. It was like being at a tennis match, first one player scoring a point and then the other, as the crowd held its breath.

  Pa God laughed bitterly. ‘You’d think so,’ he said. ‘There was more to it. Your mother is a very wealthy woman, Ann. I’m sure you know that.’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Well. The other part of the deal was that, in exchange for a certain amount of money per month, I had to promise never to try to see you.’

  An audible gasp from Annie, echoed by her four daughters.

  ‘And you let her make those terms?’

  ‘I had no choice. It was take it or leave it. If I took the money and gave her custody, I got the divorce, and if I didn’t, there was no way out.’

  ‘So you chose to leave me behind.’ Annie’s voice carried more pain than I could bear to hear.

  ‘I had to, Ann. She was tearing me apart. You don’t know what it was like, living with her. Once she’d trapped me into marrying her—’

  ‘I knew it,’ Anthea muttered under her breath, and only I was close enough to hear her. ‘I knew no one could ever have chosen to marry that witch.’

  Annie wasn’t as easily convinced. ‘Trapped you?’ Her laugh was derisive. ‘You look like a grown man to me … Godfrey.’ She stumbled over his name again. ‘I can’t see anyone making you do anything you didn’t want to.’

  ‘Believe me, Ann,’ Pa God said. ‘I tried. But you need to get your mother to tell you the rest of that story. I wouldn’t like to get the details wrong.’ He looked at Ma Bess closely, his eyes cold. ‘You know, small details like how many months usually pass between one thing happening and another.’

  Angela and Anthea looked at each other knowingly.

  ‘What’s he talking about?’ I whispered to Anthea, but she pinched my arm and I shut up quickly.

  ‘The one thing she didn’t include in the contract was writing letters. At least I was able to do that, Ann. Tell you everything I had been doing. Let you know what my life was like.’

  ‘Letters?’ Annie sounded bewildered. ‘What letters?’

  Pa God laughed as if she’d said something funny. ‘All the letters I wrote you, Ann-Pan. Cards, presents, for your birthday, Christmas …’

  Annie’s face was blank as she looked from Ma Bess to Pa God.

  ‘You never gave them to her?’ Pa’s words sliced the air. ‘All those years, and she never saw them? Not even one?’ His shoulders slumped and he looked at Ma Bess, stunned. ‘Tell me that’s not true, Beth. You wouldn’t have been that cruel.

  ‘Well, that—’ he paused, as if the words he needed had vanished, ‘that explains a lot.’

  ‘Mother?’ Annie’s voice was drowned out by Ma’s sharp response.

  ‘No, Godfrey, she didn’t see them. Why should I let her in on all the details of your sordid little life with that slut? What was her name again? Oh yes, Madge. No, Godfrey, you chose your new life—’

  ‘And you couldn’t bear it,’ Pa interrupted. ‘The thought that I might be happy, have a chance to build something out of the wreck of our marriage.’

  ‘You had a life, Godfrey,’ Ma Bess said. ‘And it was here, under this roof, with our daughter. The choice to abandon it was yours.’

  Annie’s voice was small, strangled, struggling. ‘My father wrote to me? Where are the letters? Were there birthday cards too?’

  ‘I gave them to Thelma, of course,’ said Ma Bess. ‘Told her to burn them all.’

  ‘Why? Why couldn’t you at least let me know he cared about me?’

  ‘Your father didn’t care enough. He didn’t care enough when he was lured away by that woman in Caledon. He didn’t care enough not to be seduced by money, bribed never to see you again. Why should he have the soft option of being allowed to write to you? He didn’t deserve anything that would make him feel better.’

  ‘He didn’t deserve it?’ Annie cried. ‘He didn’t? What about me, Mother? What did I deserve? What do I deserve?’

  ‘Oh for heaven’s sake, Ann.’ Ma Bess sounded bored. ‘Enough of these histrionics. You’ve managed perfectly well without a father until now – why should his sudden appearance on the scene change anything?’

  Orville got to his feet.

  Not now, Dad, I wanted to scream. Sit the bloody shit down. All the swear words I dared think of. What about all those earlier questions? The one Pa God had asked about the months? And who was the woman Pa had been with all these years? What did she look like? What was wrong with being called Madge? If Pa God left, we’d never get to know anything.

  But Orville was set to spoil all the fun. ‘It’s been good meeting you properly, Godfrey,’ he said to Pa. ‘Thank you for making the effort to come all the way out to see us. We appreciate your concern.’

  Annie tried to interrupt, followed by Ma Bess, but Orville overrode them both. ‘Please don’t leave without letting us have your telephone number, now that you’ve made contact …’

  Pa got to his feet. ‘Of course. Here’s my card.’

  What was on it? Godfrey Hall, travelling man? What did Madge feel about him being away from home and on the road? Did she worry that he’d set up home with yet another woman? Imagine, a whole bunch of them, dotted around the country, all waiting for Pa God to come home to them.

  17

  It’s not fair! I was angry again and my pencil scored a hole in the page. Why am I always the one who has to do things? Just because I’m the smallest doesn’t mean I’m always available. Most of the time, no one pays much attention to me. It’s not like anyone ever says, What do you think, Bird? or Let me tell you what the plans are for next week, Bird. Or even, This is what we’ve decided, Bird. Does that suit you? But when I try to say please, not right now, like Annie does when I ask her something, or can’t you see I’m busy, like Anthea, or just not hear, which is what happens with Alice most of the time, people tell me not to be rude or cheeky and then I have to do what I’m told. By everyone. It makes me bloody sick and tired. Bloody is a good swear word for when you’re angry. And I was so angry this morning. Early this morning, when only Annie and I were around, and Thelma had just come in.

  ‘Agh, no!’

  ‘What’s the matter, Thelma?’ Annie paused halfway down the stairs. She was used to Thelma’s small explosions.

  Thelma stood at the door of the toilet, her face wrinkled in disgust.

  ‘I am sorry, Madam,’ she said. ‘But I cannot clean this.’

  ‘Can’t clean what, Thelma?’

  ‘This mess. I am not cleaning it.’ Thelma stomped off.

  Annie walked to the door, opened it, and stepped back immediately.

  From where I stood, third step from the bottom, I could smell it. The stenc
h of vomit, overlaid with something sweet and strong.

  Annie’s face was pale. She glanced up and caught sight of me before I had time to move.

  ‘Bird!’

  ‘Yes, Mom?’

  ‘Are your sisters awake?’

  ‘Angela is, but not the others.’ It was early on a Saturday morning and the house was quiet.

  ‘Well they can wake up now. Someone is going to clean up this mess.’

  ‘What mess, Mom?’

  ‘Just go and wake the girls up and tell them I want them downstairs. Right now!’

  I stared at her stupidly. Was she mad? Wake them up? Did she know what she was asking me to do? Angela was okay, she was up and about, but Alice could be scratchily unpredictable. And as for Anthea …

  ‘Quickly now, Bird. I’m waiting.’

  I took a slow step up the stairs. No matter who had been sick, I would be the one who got into trouble for disturbing them.

  I’d start with Alice. Talk loudly, maybe make enough noise to wake Anthea. Because I really, really didn’t want to wake Anthea. All I’d get from doing that would be more mean words to add to my list.

  I knocked on Alice’s door.

  A muffled grunt.

  ‘Alice,’ I called loudly, ‘Mom wants you downstairs.’

  A blurred question from the other side of the door.

  ‘Something downstairs. She said now.’

  I turned to Angela’s door, but she beat me to it, dressed and shiny and ready for Saturday. The rugby season had started the week before and she’d be off to watch Andy strutting his muscly stuff, all sweaty and hairy.

  ‘What is it, Bird?’ Angela asked.

  ‘Mom wants you all downstairs. Now!’

  I looked hopefully at Anthea’s door. Not a murmur.

  Angela turned and I grabbed her sleeve. ‘Ange?’

  ‘Yes, Bird?’

  ‘Do you think you could—’ I looked beseechingly at Anthea’s door.

  ‘What? Wake Anthea?’ Angela laughed. ‘Sorry Bird. Not even for you.’ She patted my back and ran down the stairs. I stared after her in dismay. Fat lot of good having big sisters if they couldn’t protect you when you needed them the most.

  Alice peered out, hair a frizz around her face. She was still in her pyjamas, blue-and-white checks, the sort she had worn since she turned thirteen.

  ‘What does Mom want?’

  I sighed again. ‘She can tell you. But, Alice?’

  She looked at me and waited.

  ‘Please call Anthea. Mom wants us all now, so I better hurry.’

  ‘Hang on!’ Alice grabbed me before I could escape. ‘I’ll go down, and you call Anthea.’

  I was on my own. I stared at Anthea’s door.

  Silence.

  I raised my hand and knocked.

  ‘Anthea?’

  Silence.

  ‘Bird!’ Annie’s voice was sharp. ‘Where are you? And where is your sister?’

  I sighed deeply, all the way from the tips of my ten-year-old shoes. ‘Anthea!’ I banged on the door.

  Nothing. I had to take the next step. I opened the door, ready to duck.

  Anthea was still fast asleep. The smell from downstairs was here too, much stronger.

  ‘Bird?’ Annie’s voice was louder now.

  ‘Bloody, bloody, bloody.’ I said the word loudly. Bloody Mom. Why didn’t she come up here and do the dirty work? Bloody Anthea. Why wouldn’t she just bloody wake up?

  I took a large step into the room. And still Anthea snored. A wet sniffly sort of sound.

  There was nothing for it.

  ‘Anthea.’ I shook her shoulder and almost gagged when she heaved herself around.

  ‘Whadaya wan? Leee me lon.’

  ‘Annie wants you downstairs. Now.’

  ‘Fuh Korff. Runt.’

  ‘I can’t,’ I said patiently. ‘Mom wants you now.’

  ‘Fuh kyew. Lee me lon.’

  ‘Mom wants you downstairs. Now.’

  ‘Tell her to fuh korff. I’m sleepin.’

  ‘Anthea! Get out of that bed right now.’ Annie had appeared in the doorway, Alice and Angela behind her, their noses wrinkling as the smell hit them.

  ‘Fuh Chrissake.’ Anthea humped herself onto her side, her back to all of us. ‘What do I have to do to get some sleep around here?’

  Annie’s nostrils flared. She strode forward and pushed me out of the way. I looked at Angela and Alice. Their eyes were as wide as mine. I had rarely seen Annie so furious.

  Annie yanked the covers back. Anthea, naked except for a tiny pair of black bikini pants, squealed.

  ‘Get up and get your lazy, cheeky, nasty little backside downstairs. And when you get there, go into the kitchen and ask Thelma for a bucket and a sponge and the Handy Andy.’

  Anthea opened her mouth to protest and Annie’s hand flew up, stopping just short of Anthea’s cheek. ‘Be careful. I’m holding onto what is left of my temper by a very fine thread.’ She drew a deep breath. ‘Clean up the disgusting mess you left downstairs. And when you have cleaned it up, you can apologise to Thelma for daring to leave it for her to do.’

  ‘Mess?’ Anthea looked bewildered. ‘What the hell? I didn’t make any mess.’

  ‘Oh yes you did, my girl.’ Annie’s voice was arctic. ‘You puked. In the sink. And all over the floor. You didn’t make it as far as the toilet bowl.’

  ‘But Mom, I didn’t—’

  Annie sniffed, and sniffed again.

  ‘Who are you trying to fool, Anthea? Can’t you smell yourself? You went out last night. You drank yourself sick. And now you’re trying to tell me you didn’t vomit everywhere?’

  ‘I don’t remember … I’m sorry, Mom.’ Anthea did look sorry. And scared too.

  Of course, Ma Bess got her claws into Anthea, almost immediately, I told Ollie and Oz later that evening. She called her up to her room and Anthea said, Stupid bitch, can’t she even give me a chance to shower? Bet she’s never had a babbelas. That’s a hangover, and it happens after getting shitfaced. That’s what Anthea calls drinking too much. Your head hurts, and loud noises, like when I drop my book on the floor, make you screw up your eyes and say, Shit, Bird, must you? So even if I don’t like the way Anthea is always such a cow to me, I felt bad; I didn’t like to think of her tired-eyed and twitching in front of Ma Bess.

  18

  I tried to keep Ollie and Oz up to date with everything that happened to everyone in our family, but with Anthea around that could be difficult. Somehow she managed to grab all the attention. But not this time. Alice had dropped a bombshell at supper. A real bombshell. From the quietest member of the family.

  Anthea reckons Alice is the prettiest of all of us. I don’t think so. I think it’s Angela, or maybe even Anthea. Alice doesn’t care about how she looks. Maybe that’s why I never notice. She’s got a good figure, I think, but not like Anthea, who shows off every curve, or Angela, who likes to make herself pretty for Andy, which I can’t understand because if I ever manage to look pretty, it will be for me – I’m the one who has to look at myself in the mirror. Besides, all Andy ever seems to worry about is who’s won what match and whether South Africa is ever going to be Fully Accepted into the Sporting Arena. He sounds just like Adrian Steed on the news, like he’s using capital letters for all the important words. It’s so boring but Angela listens to every single word. It’s a pity you’re not here; he’d have someone to talk to who actually understands.

  Alice never asked to be heard, never demanded her place in the family. She took what she was given as her due, and that was that. I could imagine her as a baby, watching the world with those large violet eyes, drinking everything in and giving nothing back, as if she’d been born in her own self-contained unit. It wasn’t that she disliked us or resented us – more like she was bewildered about how she had landed amongst us, a cuckoo in a nest already filled to the brim.

  Of all of us, Alice was the least afraid of Ma Bess. When Ma Bess sent down one of her edic
ts from on high, Alice often went right ahead and ignored it, not in a spirit of wild rebellion like Anthea, but as if Ma Bess had never spoken.

  This time, Ma Bess had told Annie and Orville that there was no way she was going to pay Alice’s university fees.

  At dinner, I noticed that Annie had shadows under her eyes. Another sleepless night.

  Orville looked at her anxiously. ‘All right, darling?’ he asked, and I felt a pang. My dad loved me, loved all of us, but Annie was always his first concern.

  ‘I’m fine,’ Annie said. ‘Just—’ She looked at Alice.

  Orville took over. ‘Alice, your mother and I have been doing the sums and we just can’t manage the fees for university next year.’

  ‘I’m so sorry, Alice,’ Annie rushed in. ‘We’ve been over and over it, and we can’t see how to do it.’

  Alice cut into her quiche, carefully, methodically, as she always did, small neat pieces that became small neat bites. She chewed quietly, looking from Annie to Orville as they spoke.

  Annie continued, ‘We thought, possibly, that if you could postpone everything by a year, maybe get a job – your father will take on more photography work, and we’ll all try to cut down. Then at least we could pay for your first year. But not immediately. We just can’t do it. I’m so sorry, darling. This is the best we can suggest.’

  Anthea erupted, as Anthea always did. ‘Oh come on, Mom, Dad! What about her? She’s got loads of money. She could buy and sell UCT if she wanted to, let alone pay a few years’ fees.’

  ‘We’ve asked her,’ Orville said quietly, ‘and she refuses.’

  ‘Refuses?’ Anthea rose from her seat. ‘What you mean, refuses?’

  ‘Ssh, Anth.’ Angela’s face was strained and worried as it always was whenever there was disagreement in the family. ‘Mom and Dad have done their best.’

  ‘No, they haven’t!’ Anthea raged. ‘Come on! What’s the point of living under that bloody bitch’s thumb if we can’t get something out of her when we need it? Stop being so holier than thou, Ange. Alice! You agree with this, don’t you? You’re not going to let her mess up your career?’