markets—last I heard, anyway. While I have my store full of beautiful things and Jarvis is dealing fine art.’ It was indeed a strange turn of events, thought Nina as she noisily crunched another nut.
‘Anyway, I hope he’s happy. I suppose I’ll find out soon enough, won’t I?’ Meredith turned and rummaged in an overhead cupboard for a glass. ‘How do I get water out of this tap again?’ Meredith perched her reading glasses on her nose and peered at the row of switches and dials on the panel above the fridge—AC current/DC current/gas—their operation was beyond her capabilities.
‘You flick that red switch over the stove and it starts the pump.’
Meredith duly flicked the switch. The pump shuddered and water spluttered from the tap into the sink, splashing her shirt. Meredith jumped back. ‘Damn! There’s a knack to everything in this van. It all looks simple, but there’re so many switches and keys and vents and dials. It’s like being in a wretched submarine!’
Nina saw the door was now closed on the uncertainty she had glimpsed. It was as if, in Meredith’s perfect, sunlit, art-directed home, there was a hidden room at the end of a long corridor crammed with heavy furniture. Nina figured that she had a while yet before she could get inside that space and explore. She was sure Meredith would be grateful for her expedition. After all, wasn’t that what best friends did? Held hands and comforted each other as they poked in dark corners. Nina resolved to try again another time.
‘Anyway,’ said Meredith as she banged her glass on the chopping board, ‘Annie’s charm offensive seems to be working. She’s probably downing vodka shots with the boys as we speak. Who cares? At least it’s quiet.’
‘She is drinking a lot.’ Nina was encouraged by Meredith’s disapproving tone. ‘But it’s such a big time in her life. You can see she’s struggling with the big four-oh coming up and the idea that maybe she won’t have kids. I can’t imagine what it must be like for her . . . especially after that whole thing with the first husband. It’s probably hard for her to trust any man ever again.’ Nina surrendered to the chocolate and took another piece.
‘I know it must be difficult, but she’s . . .’ Meredith snatched up a magazine and swiped at a rogue mosquito buzzing around her face. ‘She’s clever, she’s capable and so well organised. And look at her! Beautifully turned out. Wonderful figure! She should be able to find another man. If she could just be . . . a bit less . . .’ Meredith’s thoughts were now consumed with obliterating the tiny pest. She thumped against the glass of the microwave and was rewarded with a black and bloody smear. ‘HAH! Got him!’
‘A bit less . . . ?’ Nina was keen to hear what Meredith had to say about Annie’s predicament, because she had her own theories.
‘Well, that’s it for me. Time for “lights out”, Captain.’ Meredith turned to go to her bed.
‘What?’
‘I can’t help thinking I’m in a U-boat in the Atlantic in World War II—I’ll be down the back in my bunk, sah! Breakfast at 0700 hours!’ Meredith saluted and marched down the galley.
Nina laughed at her performance. Meredith was a surprise package, no doubt about that. Every time she was pegged as a regulation eastern suburbs matron-in-waiting, the old ‘Mad Meredith’ surfaced, waving a rubber chook on a stick. Nina congratulated herself on having a friend like that. However, why Meredith persevered with a frowsy frump like herself remained an international mystery.
After making up her mattress, a task which proved to be every bit as backbreaking as she had expected, Nina dragged on a threadbare cotton pyjama top and flopped into bed. She could only manage the opening page of her book—a particularly grisly description of an autopsy—before she started to yawn. She turned off the reading light and sang out to Meredith behind her drawn curtain: ‘Nighty-night! Sleep well!’
‘Goodnight!’ Meredith called back, and then added: ‘Oh, I can hear a frog. I can’t remember the last time I heard a frog. Isn’t that wonderful?’
The light behind the teal curtain extinguished, Nina cuddled her pillow in the dark. She offered a silent prayer to God to keep her family safe, and then cursed to find an uncomfortable ridge in the cushions that fitted neatly into her fleshy lower back. She rolled heavily to one side and then wrenched at her pyjama top