Chapter Fourteen

 March 2003

We are on the way to the bus in the morning. Steve is walking a little way ahead of me.

   'I take it you're on the Jack and Jill,' he says.

   'No.'

   'No?' He stops and turns to stare at me, his mouth open wide.

   I was wrong. He does care. He just assumed. But why would he when the first time I refused because of the lack of a condom?

   'But I probably won't get pregnant,' I say, trying to justify my recklessness, 'because of being so skinny.'

   'Aren't you worried?' 

   I can only shrug.

With Steve time, boundaries, everything is blurred. 

   We play hangman on the bus.

   'Why have you got the best legs in the world?' he says.

   'I'm just perfect.'

   We walk to see the Devil's Marbles, huge round rocks that seem to balance precariously. Like my life.

   The heat is around forty degrees. Steve sweats, his t-shirt soaking. I stay dry and wilt like a dying weed.

   We talk about family. He has an older brother and sister.

   'Technically my brother's my half brother,' he says, 'but I don't think of him like that.'

   His mum, married, a mother, widowed so young. She remarried and had two daughters. One of the girls died.

   'I never knew her,' says Steve. 'If she hadn't died I wouldn't have been born.'

   'Your poor mum,' I say. 'That's so sad.' 

   Two people died so he could be born.

In Katherine we freeze bottles of water and drink as the ice quickly melts. Water has never tasted so good.

   There's a river with no water in it. We walk across it ignoring the bridge.

   We walk in Katherine Gorge National Park, talking, talking about anything. I look at the steep cliffs and I think this is too easy. Why aren't we working hard to get to know eachother? Why aren't we compromising?

   What if he's the one doing all the hard work?

   We come to a waterfall that cascades into a pool where crocodiles lie on rocks.

   'I could dive from the top of the waterfall,' says Steve.

   'No you couldn't. It's too high and there are crocodiles.'

   'They're freshies,' he says. 'Those are the harmless ones.' He looks at the waterfall. 'I might do it.'

   'You can't.' If he injures himself now, it will be even worse for me than if he'd fallen off Uluru. I'm his girlfriend. It would definitely be heartless of me to go on and leave him.

   He peers into the pool. 'Oh, it's shallower than I thought. I can't dive into that.'

We are drinking in the evening. I'm drinking more than I usually do, because Steve drinks more.

   'Do you want another drink?' he says.

   'Are you trying to get me drunk?' I raise my eyebrows.

   'Yeah.' He looks like he can't decide whether to smile or not. 'So I can take advantage of you.'

   He leans in close. 'Have you ever done anal?'

   The world turns upside down. This isn't- Men don't- They all say it's something they would never do.

   'No.' I think he must be joking.

   'Would you?'

   'No. Never.' Surely he's joking.

   'But it's nice.'

   I shake my head. Why would he joke about this?

In the hostel a middle aged American man tries to talk French to a Swiss couple. They ignore him. He is overweight and overbearing. He tells Steve and I that he was in England in August 1997 when something very big happened. He asks if we remember what it was. We stare blankly, no idea.

We are sitting on a bench by the side of the road, kissing, his hands inside my clothes.

   A car zooms past. 'Get a roooooom,' a voice shouts.

   Steve smirks as he watches the car disappear.

He sings Sweet Child o' Mine by Guns N' Roses at me. The line about eyes of the bluest sky.

   'I don't have blue eyes,' I say. They're dark grey, like a rainstorm.

   'You've got lovely blue eyes.'

   I don't argue. He wants me to have blue eyes so that's what he sees. 

Steve and I are walking in the empty river. The sun prickles my back.

   'So that was a good breakfast I made, wasn't it?' he says.

   'Yes, you get brownie points.'

   'Hmm.' His mouth twists into a sort of smile. 'Does that mean-'

   His hand slips down the back of my skirt his finger presses between my buttocks.

   'No.' I squirm as he pulls his hand out. 'Points mean prizes.'

   'So what's the prize then?'

   I gaze at the wide, dry expanse of the river.

   He puts his arm round me. 'I've already won the prize anyway.'

Sweet Child o' Mine

Chapter Fifteen