72

‘And that’s how some people are rewarded for a lifetime of being good,’ Norma Bee laughed. She always laughed. Even bad news had ticklish fingers.

‘Poor bastard,’ I said again.

In the kitchen pots boiled on every surface, squeaking urgent whistles, the control room on a warship. We talked and talked and talked. Jealousy and wanting always coupled so well.

‘What me and Brian had might not have been perfect, but we had love. There were people in this town used to say I was a bad lady, letting him get like that. I didn’t pay no heed to those people, though. Letting him get like what? Letting him get happy? Letting him get happier than them, that’s what those people didn’t like. Know what I figured?’

I had never really noticed before but Norma Bee spoke a lot in questions.

‘What did you figure?’ I said, piggybacking her tongue.

‘Only the people that care about you can make you happy. So it was my job.’

Norma Bee, big fat oracle.

I stirred whatever she pointed to, piled it onto plates whenever she instructed me.

‘That man in there,’ she nodded through the wall I built, ‘that’s how he’s been rewarded for his life of goodness. With two women who could never love him as much as he loved them. But at least they gave him the best thing he’s got, right?’

‘What?’ I said. ‘Dramatic weight loss?’

‘No, honey,’ said Norma Bee. ‘Lou. She’s the only one who cares about him, and as long as that remains the way it is, she’ll do everything . . . everything she can to make him happy. Altruism, honey. That’s what love is.’

I saw that she was counselling me, pulling into my vision something blatant I’d somehow stupidly missed.

‘You gotta realise, love is a long line. It’s all love but it has opposite ends. There’s the end that’s good. The one they write romantic songs about. That’s the end you wanna be at. And there’s the end that’s bad, because love can destroy you too. And that end of the line is where most people are at. Happy as Brian and I were, I was destroying him. I can see that now. Could I see that then, when I was feeding him the delicious things I made? No. Because he was smiling when I did it. It was still love.’

I crouched on the floor by the refrigerator. Its motor rumbled in my spleen.

‘And my mum and Mal?’ I asked.

‘Don’t it just make her happy?’

‘Yes,’ I said.

‘He’s smiling, ain’t he?’

‘Yes,’ I said.

‘Then it’s love. Doesn’t mean it won’t destroy them both.’

I could smell burning. Norma Bee spun a switch to chide the gas. I swallowed.

‘And Lou?’

‘Poor Lou,’ said Norma Bee, weaving two forks through a colourful salad. ‘She’s watched one man she loves destroy himself. She’s not gonna let another. He needs her.’

‘I need her too,’ I said.

Norma Bee struggled to her knees in front of me. Her jewellery was cold like the pavement on my cheek.

‘Then you’ll wait. You just gotta not get destroyed while you do.’

‘But I will be,’ I said.

When I raised my head again she was back at the stove.

‘I’ll look after you,’ she said. ‘Here, eat this.’