Its a cloudy late afternoon and Johns relieved the weeks over.

Hes with his mates and theyre laughing at Dimity. Shes smiling at them while she sings. They dont know her name, shes just some drunk, in her fifties maybe, in a cheap fudge colored business outfit and a string of pearls, singing along to the jukebox. Ooh ooh oh good old eagle rock Theyre in the Norwood hotel and Dimity is indeed shuffling near the bar like an eagle. Shes kind of flapping her wings and her belly presses against her tight skirt as her legs bow under a tribal spell. She looks ridiculousand John and his friends egg her on. She beckons for John to join her, curling her fingers at him like a side show hypnotist. Shes not bad looking he thinks, you know, for her age. But her hair reminds him of his mum and the suits cheap and theres something sad about it all, even a bit scary, so he shakes his head and turns back to his beer and his mates. Think youre in with a chance there mate! Steve says, loosening his tie. Yeah Johnno, Greg chips in, Better get in quick before she karks it. John smiles and tells them to get fucked. Its Johns round so he goes up to the bar. Dimitys topsy on her stool, leaning forward and talking to the space where a person could be, wagging a finger and laughing to herself. John can smell gin and perfume,sharp and sweet, billowing from her. A delicate gold bracelet hangs around her tiny watch face and her nails are red like a postbox. The girl behind the bars got a few to get through before she gets to him, so he turns and smiles at Dimity. Her face swims dreamily up to his gaze, eyes sprayed with distance. Yu havin a good time luv? A smile crosses her face like sand drifting off the top of a dune, and she says something so thickened by the alcohols effect that Johns got no idea, but he nods all the same. Yeah good on yu. Hes relieved when its his turn to get served, and walking back cradling the beers and bourbons he pinpoints what her perfume reminds him of, the cupboard in his aunties bedroom. Gregs just got a promotion and Steves bought a new car. Are you still on for Saturday? Yeah, John nods. Exellent! Where yu goin? Greg asks, all grown up now, no more free weekends for this new area manager. Takin the girls down to Victor, Steve said, twirling the keys like a six-shooter, And well fuckin fang it! Hey Johnno? Yeah I reckon. Ha! Jens gonna shit herself! Steve laughed. Hey check it out, Greg nods over their shoulders. Dimitys swaying in front of the duke box, squinting at the change in her hand. HEY MUM! Steve calls out, DONT PUT ANY OF THAT OLD SHIT ON! Gregs pissing himself. She didnt have a favorite pub, she didnt really go to pubs, but the Norwood was the nearest. She put her purse on the bar and ordered a double gin and tonic that went down like gasoline tears. Shes been drinking since eleven thirty. She walked out of a seminar entitled How to make work work for you! It was nothing in the folder they gave her when she walked in, or was said in the venetian blinded room in which she was careful not to leave coffee rings, but a five year old asking if there where any biscuits left the ones with the chocolate eyes in them.

Daniel rang her once and asked her when he was born. His girlfriend wanted to find out his rising sign. Five past two, she reported immediately. Morning or afternoon mum? Morning. Really! God that must have sucked! Well you know me darling, she laughed, I always put things off. Daniels father, an electrician whose hands never seemed to be completely dry, told her at the funeral not to blame herself, and then reminded her that he would never have let his son have a motorbike. Still, whats done is done, he sighed, brushing the dandruff from his suit coat. Sarah says come over anytime. Thats right luv. Wife number three assured, gathering Dimitys wrists in her hands, anytime you feel the need.

Dimity held her hand up for another drink. And she never did feel that need. Shed fumbled on through empty air. Shed paid the gas bills and got the dog inoculated, she mowed the lawn and stared into the fridge, the weight of a dying star inside. She flicked through magazines, glossy faces tumbling into each other before her. She emptied the vacuum cleaner and wiped the skirting boards with a sponge. Sarah rang a couple of times, once around the anniversary and then again a bit later to ask if she wanted a fish tank. the ones with the chocolate eyes in them. There were plenty, there was a whole new packet, but she was in a hurry and it was just easier to say : Have one of those other ones but mum but nothing thats all weve got The windows of the Norwood have coloured edges, rusty leaves evacuate the trees outside and spin in a gang along the pavement. The girl who brought her drink over was perky and smelled of gum. Johns pissed. He wasnt planning on it, but hes glad he is. Its been a prick of a week. He lost those invoices, and Jens freaking out about fuck knows what. The place is full now and the musics pumping. Hes supposed to get up early tomorrow to help his dad move some scoriabut right now theres a girl in a metallic micro-top playing pool with her friends who hes sure keeps looking over at him. Hes not going to do anything, but him and Greg and Steve are all pretending that they are. Go put some money on the table ya fuckwit! Greg advises. Yeah! goes Steve, Well play em doubles, triples, whatever. So John heads over, all Country Road and prickly cheeked, already feeling the exciting paper cuts of guilt. He puts two dollars on the table and starts talking to her, she accidentally sloshes some of her Tia Maria and Coke onto his cotton, pressing on the dark patch and apologising profusely. Steve and Greg are impressed. OK, Daniel had sighed, his big eyes lowered and skating over the lino, and then the sun rose to his face again, But can we get some more later? Yes, Yes. Dimity dipped her finger in the glass and pulled out the lemon slice, placing it with the three others in the otherwise empty ashtray. So much nothing in the air it felt charged. She watched the girl wiping glasses and felt the gin fuelled heat flushing through her, sweat trickled to her bra. He was such an understanding little boy, so wise and polite. They had plenty, there was a whole new packet, three steps away, just behind the packet of spaghetti in the top cupboard. His big eyes and his hopeful smileBut can we get some later? Another gin replaced the empty glass. Its mugs away and Greg brakes amid sly smiles and smug comments about big balls. Sasha and her friends shimmer with slightly amused boredom, a studied ennui they settled into once the boys had gathered among them. Steves eyebrows jump around like bacon popping in a fry pan as he lights cigarettes and cracks one liners. John fumbles his shot, and couldnt give a rats arse. Hes more bored, he is sure of it, than the girls look. The swell has subsided and his heart is sinking. Hes ruminating on the mysteries of the human machine. He can hear every strand of Steves bullshit, the irritating cascade of it distinct amid the noise of the crowded pub. And yet at home, in the quiet newly carpeted confines, with just him and Jen in the same room, its as though some rubber stopper is activated in his aural canal whenever she says anything. The words a half-heard muffle he has to ask her to repeat. Which she does, and the effort of lugging all this unheard back and forth leaves them weary, and wiping coal dust from their hands. Gregs nodding and smiling like an idiot and Steves twirling his car keys. Shes in a tunnel, warm and beating. Shredded flags are flickering in a far away wind. Johns leaning next to her again at the bar. She can see the thin band of sweat dark around the seam under his arm, his face is shining and his eyes are liquid. Yu still here luv, he slurs. Yes darling, theres plenty, she says, You just wait here, Ill go get them. John shakes his head and laughs. Youre fucked, he regrets it when he says it, and enjoys the regret. It burns nicely on the surface of the abstract anger hes wading in. Dimity nods, and the flames flare higher around her. Im sorry, I didnt mean that, he says, youre beautiful. But he means functional, a nudge in his trousers confirms the diversion his mind has slated, the shameful delight of greasy food, of licking his fingers alone in the dark. Dimity looks up at him confused. I live nearby, she says, I live nearby and Ive got plenty.

Ill walk you home. Greg gives Steve a nudge, Check it out. GRAVE ROBBER! Steve yells.