In the Neighbourhood of Fame by Bridget van der Zijpp

Author:Bridget van der Zijpp
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Victoria University Press

Haley

In third period Mrs Bonner says, ‘Class, this is a high-profile school project, so let’s make it good.’ Her eyes travel over all the other faces and then land on mine as she adds, ‘I have expectations.’ Might have made a mistake recently, after Mrs Bonner wrote something nice about my writing style on one of my essays, by confessing I’d like to be a writer some day. Knowing one made it seem more of an achievable ambition, even if the one I knew was actually Marty. Since then Mrs Bonner often sends comments like that in my direction.

Sas decides she’ll ask a famous fashion designer her mother knows, and another girl in the class has an uncle who’s an MP, so am feeling the pressure to come up with something great.

‘I want to see these interviews conducted in a journalistic style,’ Mrs Bonner says. ‘Imagine it in your favourite magazine.’

I know who I want to do it with, but I’ll need the dog.

Have been finding excuses not to walk Rochester some days. Marty’s getting weird. The other day I bent down in my denim skirt to attach the lead to Rochester’s collar and I heard a sound behind me and turned round just in time to see him slip his cellphone back into his pocket. Another time he was sitting opposite me, sending a text, but holding up his phone so its lens was facing me and I’m pretty sure I heard it click. When I try to imagine what Marty might be doing with those pictures I feel like I’m entering the land of sleaze, just being around him. But also he goes to such lengths to capture me in this way – it’s a kind of passion, a weirdo strength of feeling. I’m always fighting against my instincts to be okay with it. In a sicko way, it’s exciting, no safe path.

The trouble with Marty is that just when you’re starting to think he has his okay side, he does something so tricksy that you’re right back to square one with him again. Like when you go into his toilet. It’s only a place you would go if you were really in need, because like everything in his house it’s not all that clean. And then when you close the door you see that pinned to the back of it are a whole lot of pictures of Rochester when he was a puppy. Playing with a ball, snuggling under a blanket, wearing a headset, just being cute, and you realise even people without people need love in their life. People without people have dog-people. And just at the instant you feel a little heart-squeeze towards Marty, a memory of those pervy photos he’s snapped off rises up and you wonder what he does with them.

After I heard the camera click at the table that time I said, ‘Why did you want me to walk your dog again?’

‘I told you,’ he replied defensively. He waved his crutch in

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