The Meeting Place

'You just don't get it, do you? I'm not coming back. Ever. I want to live my life my way. No! Don't interrupt! I don't care if you've been there before. I don't care if you know better. Can't you see? I don't want to do things your way. I don't want to be like you.'

A slim girl stuffs clothes into a garbage bag. The bag tears and clothes disgorge. Her back is stiff with rage and resentment. Stray wisps of hair float free from clips. She huffs them from her eyes.

'At least have something to eat before you go. There's ham in the fridge. That 97% fat free stuff you insist on. Though why anybody would want to pay good money for a product that's been stripped of all goodness, I'll never know. Come on, Cassie, it'll only take a minute. Remember how you used to love sitting at the bench while I pulled out everything from the fridge and set it up in front of you? Remember how good it made you feel? Just like been waited on in an expensive restaurant. Nothing too much trouble for my little girl.'  

'Not hungry.' 

'Well, a coffee then. A real coffee. Not that stuff I used to fool you with when you were little. Remember? Three quarters of a teaspoon of chocolate Quik and a few granules of coffee. Just enough to make you think you were drinking something daring.' 

'Can't you EVER take NO for an answer?'

The sound of a car horn intrudes. Both heads arch left forming a portrait of apparent symmetry.

'Jerry. He hates to be kept waiting.'

The girl wraps the last frame, a silver bound treasure. Thrusts it into plastic indifference, hoists it high. 

'Can't he wait? For even a minute? We need to talk, Cassie. There's, there's so much I need to say... to... explain. Your father... it's been so difficult since your father left. I know you blame me, presume I drove him away, but you're wrong Cassie. I...I tried to protect you by pretending...indifference. I've always tried to hide from you, my... my suffering. Now, I see it was a mistake. A stupid, stupid mistake.'

The woman reaches out with yearning arms.

But the girl sees weed dragged by jealous water. Just another ploy. An old woman's trick. If she hesitates now, she knows she will drown.

'Cassie. Cassie, you mean everything to me. You know that, you must know that. Don't you? Please don't leave me. Please? Cassie, don't leave me.'

But the girl is gone absorbed in the surge she has created.

Her mother hesitates, unbelieving, then she swoops to the balcony. Too late, the child has been taken.

Her eyes are drawn to the departing car. She wills them to be harpoons. But the car glides round the corner, majestic as a shark, oblivious to a mother's pain.

'Thatcha old woman on the balcony?' 

'Yeah.' 

'She seemed a tad upset.' 

'Oh, she's always getting emotional. Even bad movies get her going, wedding scenes that sort of stuff. No self control, that's her problem.' 

'She's not gonna cause trouble, is she?' 

'Her? No, she doesn't understand, that's all.' 

'What's ta understand?' 

'Oh, you know, our arrangement.'

The man chews things over as he propels the vehicle forward. He is not a man much given to risk. This girl is a dazzler, a tough operator; still, experience has yet to come.  

'It's not too late to change your mind.' 

'I know. I don't want to.' 

'Did you explain everything?' 

'She's so old fashioned. Once I hit the big time, she'll forget all about it. I'll just wave a bundle of hundreds under her nose and ... What, what are doing? Jerry, where are we going?' 

'Gowen back.' 

'What do you mean?' 

'Don't take on girls with problem parents. Causes too much grief. Bad for business. Bad for me. I gotta ulcer to consider.' 

'No, Jerry. Please, no. She doesn't own me. It's my life. I can do what I want with my life.' 

'Sure you can, honey. Just not at my expense.'

The car slides to a silvery stop. A lean, brown-limbed girl clambers out. Her blue cotton dress slaps against her thighs. When the car glides away, she is left stranded, holding nothing but a torn, black plastic bag from which clothes leak out like entrails.

'Cassie? Cassie, is that you? Oh Cassie, darling, you came back. I knew you'd see sense. I knew you wouldn't leave me. Oh darling, things will be different now, you'll see, I'll, I'll... change, I swear. We'll get away. I'll borrow the money... somehow. A treat, that's what we both need. What about Bali? Bali's quite cheap I've heard, we could...'

The girl's eyes pan slowly left, a searchlight certain of uncovering disaster. They alight on a bottle of Bourbon.

'I...I only just opened it, I was only going to......But I don't need to... now. You've come back.'

The woman clasps the girl to her. Murmurs reassurances. Strokes her long, sand-coloured hair. Her heart is filled with yesterday and today. 

'So few make it, Cassie. So many wind up in tawdry catalogues. Then they marry. Wind up thoroughly disillusioned. Better to get an education, darling. Better to stay here with me. I'll look after you. I'll make sure you get your chance. The right way.'

Gently, she twists the girl's head. The spine that supports as awkward as salt-stiffened rope. Her own face is beatified; a resplendent sun hung low over lapping waters.  

But the girl's face is shut tight.

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