Maggie finds a park under the canopy of a Jacaranda tree. She pulls on the handbrake and swivels in her seat. ‘All good?’
He nods, noting that one of Mark and Janine’s guests has left the side gate to their property ajar. He also sees William from the cricket club taking on the steep driveway carrying a carton of beer with exaggerated care. He knows William will keep this up until someone notices.
Social overcompensation.
‘Please don’t interrogate anybody tonight, Brendan.’ Maggie’s tone is light, he knows she’s only half joking.
‘I won’t.’
Maggie reaches out and strokes his arm. ‘Can you get the esky from the boot, love?’
‘Of course.’
It’s almost a game they play before social functions. Maggie knows he would be happier not to go, and he pretends she’s wrong.
Brendan and Maggie take on the driveway, the esky swinging between them. Brendan senses his wife is already there. She is in the party, greeting their friends, toting up who she wants to talk with first.
‘Maggie! Brendan!’ Mark sees them before they’ve opened the gate. He does it for them and Brendan remembers the unlatched side gate. He wants to mention it, but decides it would be best to close it himself, as soon as he can slip away.
Mark hugs Maggie once she’s sidled through the gap without letting Janine’s mad poodle out onto the street and then takes Brendan’s hand in both of his after he has done the same. ‘Good to see you, mate. How’s your work going?’
‘It’s good.’ The smoke from the barbecue is overwhelming.
‘Interesting stuff. Any new murders?’ Mark is hopeful.
Morbid curiosity disguised as conversation.
‘You a cop?’ A tall man standing nearby steps into the breach.
‘No,’ Brendan says. Not exactly.
This answer doesn’t satisfy their host. ‘He’s a criminal profiler, Joey.’
Joey relaxes. Rubs his nose. ‘Oh right.’
Cocaine habit.
Brendan looks around for Maggie, but she has already disappeared.
He follows a path around the back of the house toward the side boundary. Between the topiary trees he sees a fence. He follows it until the yard opens out a little. Under the huge canopy of the same Jacaranda where they parked the car, is a garden seat, resplendent with fallen blooms and on the seat is a teenage girl.
‘Hello,’ she says, looking him up and down.
Brendan waves to her and continues on, tracing the boundary to find the open gate.
‘What are you doing?’ The girl has risen from the seat and is following him.
Collector of details.
‘I’m shutting the side gate,’ he says.
‘Why?’
Brendan spots the gap in the fence and picks up speed. He draws the gate closed, and checks the latch is secure.
‘OCD?’ she asks.
‘Nope, concerned party guest.’
‘Right.’ She is leaning against the fence with her ankles crossed and her arms folded in front of her.
Attempt at nonchalance as a defence against adulthood.
Her posture is actually blocking his return to the barbecue. ‘I’d better get back to the party,’ he says.
Her smile forms slowly. ‘Oh yes, mustn’t miss the excitement.’
Competent use of sarcasm.
Later, Brendan is impaled by a woman recounting her and her husband’s recent trip to Phuket.
‘Have you been?’ she asks.
He doesn’t tell her he has because there would be no point.
‘You and Maggie should go. It’s a magnificent country.’
Validation seeking.
Maggie appears by his shoulder. ‘Brendan and I visited last August, didn’t we love?’
The guest turns to Brendan. ‘Oh! You should have said so. Allowing me to drone on and on, like that.’
False modesty.
Maggie draws him away and they stand together, watching the party guests. His wife clinks his glass with her own. ‘Down the hatch!’
Brendan finds himself by the barbecue. William from the Cricket Club is tending some Satay chicken kebabs.
‘Got to make sure they are cooked through,’ William says, noticing Brendan watching him.
‘That so,’ Brendan says.
‘Yep. Salmonella is real,’ William says.
Competence as identity stabilisation.
‘We missed you this season,’ William adds.
‘Thanks mate. I’ve had to travel for work. Didn’t want to let the team down.’
‘I get it. Life is mad, isn’t it?’
Attempt at male bonding.
‘Yeah.’ Brendan decides he likes William. ‘What have you been up to?’
‘I’m getting divorced.’
‘Jesus, William. I’m sorry.’
William is bent over the chicken kebabs.
‘Let’s go for a beer sometime,’ Brendan suggests.
‘Yeah. That would be great.’ William doesn’t look up.
Something glass smashes on concrete.
Joey, with the alleged cocaine habit, jumps at the noise.
Conditioned stress response.
‘Be careful. Don’t step on that!’ Janine shouts. ‘Mark, bring me a dustpan and brush!’
The teenager is sitting on a plastic chair near the back entrance to the house. She is watching him. Brendan looks back to William at the barbecue, but both he and the chicken kebabs are gone and the guests are queuing for food.
The sun is low in the sky and long shadows stripe the yard. Brendan chooses another beer from the esky, they have stashed in the garage. He notices Maggie has drunk most of her UDLs and knows it is he who will drive them home.
He steps out into the yard again and finds the teenager leaning against the bricks of the garage swigging from a bottle of cider.
She grins at him. ‘Gonna tell on me?’
‘Not my department,’ Brendan says.
‘Ok.’ She tilts the cider against his beer in a toast and they both look out at the other guests. ‘So, what is your department then?’
‘Criminal profiler.’
‘Really?’ She is watching him now, to see if he is telling the truth.
Body language analysis.
‘So can you actually tell what other people are like, then?’
‘It works better in a controlled environment,’ he says. ‘But yeah, sometimes I can.’
Expectation management.
‘You do it constantly, don’t you?’
Testing behaviour.
‘Like you’re doing it now.’
He wants to deny it, but can’t be bothered.
‘Must be exhausting,’ she says, pushing off the wall behind her and disappearing into the crowd.
He stays by the wall for while. Someone has put on dance music and he watches as Maggie bounces onto the makeshift dance floor with windmilling arms. Her mouth is open and she is looking up into the trees which have been wrapped in tiny lights. Someone has them flashing now and Maggie is entranced. Perspiration has broken out on her forehead and as she twirls, he can see the curls on her neck are damp too. She rolls her arms in front of her chest like she is winding rope and bends at the waist as if she is pulling herself into the earth. Brendan smiles. She is off-beat and doesn’t care. Another woman joins her and they move together, almost mirroring each other, but Maggie is wilder, more chaotic and unpredictable. He takes a nearby chair and sits with his legs stretched out in front of him and his hands clasped behind his head. He knows he can watch her all night because she is a mystery to him.
The End.