Page 46 of Nothing Without You

Chapter Fifty-Three

Before she knew it, several birthdays had come and gone. Last week, Evie had turned twenty-seven, and soon Bob would be thirty-eight. The years had not been kind to him, and his addiction to drugs and alcohol made him look even older. Over the years, she had come to accept that this was how her life was going to be. As much as she wanted to get away, there was nowhere to go. Her days consisted of running the shop and trying to avoid Bob.

It had been years since she had seen either of her parents. Her father was always busy with the business expanding in Melbourne, and although she talked to him every month, they hadn’t been able to arrange a time to meet. She used the bait shop as an excuse, time and time again. ‘We just don’t get days off. It’s busy all the time.’

The last time her father rang, he told Evie to ring her mother. ‘She has some exciting news to tell. I won’t spoil it. She wants to let you know herself.’

Hopefully, she had lifted herself out of her depression and didn’t need to spend any more time in hospital, Evie thought.

Sidestepping the broken glass that lay on the floor of the phone box, Evie pushed a few coins into the slot. It was getting harder to skim money from the till, and Bob had questioned her last week, saying he thought she was ripping him off. He’d grabbed her face with one hand, his fingers tightening when he spoke. He no longer bore any resemblance to the musician she had first met and run away with, his lined face pushing up close to hers, his eyes narrowed and bloodshot.

‘If I find you’re taking any of my money, you’ll cop it. I’ve always looked after you, Evie. Given you a house and the shop. You’re getting under my skin lately. Almost like you’re planning something.’ He’d gritted his teeth and tried to frighten her by pushing his ugly face closer.

She’d laughed. ‘Plan what? What are you talking about?’

‘I’m not fucking stupid. I see that copper in here talking to you. If I find you’re with another man, especially a black one, you’re a dead woman walking.’

Words twirled in her head that she wanted to hurl at him. What a drug-ridden grub he was and how dare he, with all his evil traits, judge someone by the colour of their skin.

‘Do you hear me? Don’t try anything. I’ve got a gun there that Leon gave me. I’ll chase you wherever you go.’ He sneered and pinched her tighter. ‘You just keep working that shop.’

It had taken her a long while to stop shaking, and she only found solace after he walked out, declaring he was going to Ziggy’s place for a party.

Sometimes Bob made her go with him to the parties, and she had to sit next to him all night and watch him get drunker and drunker. ‘I bring the wifey to drive me home,’ he loved to tell his mates. ‘Don’t want those pigs picking me up.’

The women who hung with Ziggy and Leon, all looked the same as the men. They appeared haggard, drug-ridden, and their faces were full of similar signs of defeat. The look that said they had resigned themselves to the shit life they led. Was that what she was going to look like in ten years?’

Now she waited for her mother to pick up the phone. ‘Evie. Hello love,’ her mother’s voice sounded through the earpiece. The line crackled a bit and Evie pushed the phone harder to her ear.

Her mother’s words gushed out, and Evie held her breath as she listened. ‘Last month David came into where I work. Yes, Evie, David McIntosh. He said he’d been trying to find me. He came looking for me. And Evie…’

All Evie could think about was the day she had dropped the Jaffa lolly under the bed. ‘Yes, Mum.’

‘We’re going to get married. Mrs McIntosh passed away a few years ago, and David doesn’t want to waste any more time. The wedding will be in Brisbane, and you have to come. May twenty-eighth.’ Her mother talked for a bit longer before Evie said her coins were running out.

‘Yes, Mother. Of course, I’ll come. No, Bob won’t be able to. Someone’ll have to stay and run the shop.’

Evie stood still, holding the end of the phone for a long time. Through the glass of the phone booth, she watched as groups of school kids walked past. The girls wore short uniforms, a couple of them holding hands with boys who had long, straggly hair and wore untucked school shirts. They grinned at her as they passed, a few of them passing a cigarette between each other. She smiled back. Where had the time between her school years and now, gone? That had been her once. Holding hands with Chris, smoking a cigarette with Layla, laughing and mucking around on the walk home. Not a care in the world.

Placing the receiver back in its holder, she pushed the phone booth door open and began to walk home. She’d left Bob to look after the shop while she phoned her mum. Ziggy and Leon had called in to talk to him, so she had made a hurried exit, using the excuse that she had to get some food for dinner.

She took the long way home, dawdling and letting her mother’s latest news sink in. There was a sense of shock that, after so long, Mr McIntosh still wanted to be with her. It had been so long since she had heard her mother sound happy and animated. Good on her. Finally, they were going to be together. And even more exciting, she was going to see her parents.

On Sunday she headed towards Matilda’s house. She kept a good pace as she walked along the beach, because that meant she would have more time to spend with the old lady. Bob was spending the day with his friends. He had decided there was no reason for her to have Sundays off, and had been keen for her to do a shift at a nearby island resort on a Sunday afternoon. So far, she had been able to avoid his suggestion. ‘It’s my only day off and I like to walk. I collect shells and sometimes I fish.’

‘They just need someone to wash dishes, and it would bring in more money. If you want to have a fancy washing machine, and a stupid inside toilet that we’re spending a fortune on, you’ll have to pull your weight.’

‘I already do. I work all week in the shop.’

‘Don’t argue with me. You can do a couple of shifts. The bloke who owns the place came in here the other day, and I’ve already told him you’ll do it once the busy season starts. They’ll let you stay in a room for the night if your shift finishes after the last ferry has left.’

Sunday afternoon visits to Matilda’s had become a ritual and the two of them had become good friends. Sometimes they did weaving, while other times Evie watched Matilda paint. The old woman was sprightly and usually sat on the ground. Today, however, she was sitting in a chair, with a pot of tea and two cups ready for their afternoon tea.

Evie hugged her and sat down. Matilda had become her best friend and, although she had never said much about Bob, she knew that Matilda sensed something was wrong.

‘He’s not a good fella this Bob, is he?’ Matilda asked, as she sipped her tea. Her eyes were barely visible between the folds of skin and creases that made up her face, but Evie knew she saw everything.

‘Not really. No.’

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