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She lasted five days doing all this before she drove by the house. She didn’t have an exact plan for what she’d do when she got there, but since she was pretty down on the whole concept of spontaneity she figured she’d sit in the car and cry some more, because that was her favourite pastime whenever she was alone.
She didn’t expect the big auction poster, and the slash across it that said sold prior was simply in the noise. If there was a light on it wasn’t going to be because he was sitting on the stairs reading. If the house was in darkness it didn’t mean he might be asleep on his mattress in the foyer. He wasn’t there. He didn’t own this house anymore.
It robbed her of the breath to cry.
In a way it was useful. There was no hangover, no make good, no what if or action replay with a different outcome on a lineball call. Game over. If she ran on the beach she’d be chasing her own shadow. She wasn’t going to be able to find him. He didn’t want to be found.
It was another week and two visits to the cave before she believed that.
He hadn’t torn the boards down, and it wasn’t Drum who’d sprayed obscene graffiti on them. She bought two big bags of oranges and a couple of family blocks of chocolate. She went to Cooper Park first. He wasn’t going to be there but the goodies might buy her information.
Enid was there with her trolley, but she’d never heard of Drum. “Not my neighbourhood. He hasn’t come around here.”
Foley put a bag of oranges and a block of chocolate in her trolley. “If you were me, where would you look?”
“Why do you need to find him? Sounds to me like he wants to disappear.”
She could tell Enid any old thing or nothing. “He’s important to me and I’m worried about him.”
“That won’t do you any good.”
It had given her nails bitten to the quick and an incessant sweet tooth. It was making her dull and anxious. “We were good friends, but we had a disagreement and I want to make sure he’s all right.”
“You had a fight. Hmm. If he’s a decent man he’ll be wondering if you’re all right. Let him go. He’s trouble if he’s homeless anyway.”
Foley smiled. “You’re no trouble, Enid.” It was hard to imagine the wizened woman as anything but grandmotherly, if you put aside the way she smelled and the trolley.
“Was in my day.” Enid gave her a coy look. “Oh, yes. I was a bad girl. Drank too much. Smoked too much. Slept around. Went with men for money and had a few abortions.” Another look, nothing modest about it. “Have I shocked you?”
“A little.” A hell of a lot, but then Enid might be making up any old thing too.
“Give that fella up. He’s no good. You’re better off on your own.”
“Do you regret not having a family? Not having a more normal home?” Foley chose those words carefully. Enid was one of the longest-term homeless, one of the few women, and had resisted all attempts to rehouse her.
“Not much. I didn’t want to do the things I was supposed to do. Get married, have babies. Cook dinner and clean house. Wasn’t for me, that kind of slavery. I liked the men too much. But they’re pigs you know. Pigs. The good ones are few and far between. Never had me a single good one worth keeping.” Enid laughed as if that was to be expected.
“Only thing I regret now is not having a television. Having my own telly would be nice, then again it’s all ads, isn’t it.” She patted Foley’s hand with her gloved one, the wool still soft, but grubby. “You could ask the nice people on the food truck, they might know where your fella went, but if you want my advice, dump him.”
Oddly, probably the right advice from the most unorthodox of sources.
The second bag of oranges went to two men playing chess at the pavilion. They introduced themselves as Noddy and Blue and they knew Drum.
“He’s gone away, love,” Blue said.
But that was the easy answer. “How do you know?”
“Came and asked us for advice, didn’t he, Nod.”
“He did. Why’dja want to know? He in trouble again? You don’t look like a copper.”
“I’m not. We were friends.”
Blue smacked his hand on the table, making the chess pieces dance. “You’re the dolly bird.”
Foley grimaced and Noddy said, “What my friend means is you’re the woman Drum was seeing.”
She nodded. “He was my friend.”
