Snake Bite by Christie Thompson

Author:Christie Thompson
Language: eng
Format: azw3, epub
Tags: FIC000000, book
ISBN: 9781743316863
Publisher: Allen & Unwin
Published: 2013-08-01T04:00:00+00:00

EIGHTEEN

Mum and I argued about me going to Dana and Joanie’s house for dinner right up until we rang their front doorbell. I’d been losing my rag all that arvo, like, really putting my foot down and saying, ‘I’m not going,’ but Mum was worried we’d look, like, homophobic if we didn’t go. I don’t know specifically who she was worried would think we were homophobic. She reckoned since Dana and Joanie were new in the hood and they’d gone to the trouble of inviting us we had to ‘embrace our new neighbours’. I didn’t really care about welcoming them, since their daughter had already muscled her way into my best mate’s boxers. Mum would have to drag me kicking and screaming to get me over there for a meal. In the end she bribed me. No dishes or laundry for a fortnight and replacement guitar strings ’cos I’d broken two that morning playing power chords and screaming, ‘I’M NOT GOING TO THE HOUSE OF LEZ!’ It was sort of ironic.

Laura’s house looked different from the last time I’d been over. Boxes had been unpacked, all the shelves were full of hardcover books and trinkets, the modular lounge was covered in beige-coloured faux fur throws and embroidered cushions and Asian art hung on the walls. Not tacky Asian art like the little Buddhas Mum had in her bedroom that she’d bought at the Dollar Shop, but Japanese-looking paintings of Koi fish and lotus flowers. Their house wasn’t much bigger than ours, and it was so crammed full of stuff it might have felt really small, but everything was so colourful it felt warm. It looked like the ‘after’ photo of one of those Oprah interior design shows. And whereas our house smelled like dust, ciggies and cheap washing powder, theirs smelled like some sort of spicy incense and freshly baked bread. Mum acted like she was in a museum, oohing and ahhing and fingering fabrics, her eyes having sex with the exotic souvenirs.

‘I travelled quite a bit in my earlier years,’ Joanie explained, apologetic. ‘I’ve hoarded a lot of junk.’

‘No, this is . . .’ Mum was stupidly impressed. ‘I love your home.’

Home. I’d never really used that word when talking about our house. It was a house.

‘Dana and Laura are in the kitchen, they’re the chefs around here. Good for me, since I work so much.’

‘Something smells amazing!’ Mum flung her bag onto the sofa and collapsed alongside it.

‘Are you hungry, Jez?’ Joan turned her eyes to me.

‘Not really.’ My stomach gurgled. All I’d eaten that day was a bowl of soggy cereal topped up with warm UHT milk from the cupboard.

‘Take a seat. Can I get you ladies something to drink?’

‘Oh, we brought some . . .’ Mum fished in her bag and pulled out two West Coast Coolers, still frosty from our fridge. ‘Sorry it’s not much . . .’

‘I’ll put it in a glass for you?’

‘No, it’s fine.’ Mum held up her keys. ‘Always carry a bottle opener.

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