J’s Diary Entry
Thursday, 25 May 1995
I really must call Mum and S. I don’t know why I am so reluctant to call. Well, I do really, she’s been away so long now and she hardly ever writes. I don’t really know her anymore. And I worry that her having a child is only going to worsen the problem, make her more alien.
God. My sister is going to have a baby in 8 days. The proximity of it has just hit me. Things aren’t gonna be the same anymore. S and I will never share another house, we’ll be lucky to ever see each other on either of our birthdays. I’m actually a bit down about it. I can’t believe I still actually give a toss about other people. I have a really vivid memory from the Pool House. S had moved out by now, and was visiting on a Summery day. We were near the gate. S was on the grass, I was on the edge of the slate paving. There was a tree behind her and slightly to the left. The tennis court was behind her too. She was wearing something pink, and her hair past her shoulders, tied up I think. She was in shorts, and leaning with her weight on one leg, slightly bent at the waist, bare arms akimbo.
“So you gonna have kids?” I asked, squinting into the sun over her right shoulder.
“Yeah, what else are we here for?” she replied in a subdued but matter-of-fact kinda way.
I remember the grass being thick and green, in need of a cut and two large gum trees had been felled, that’s why I had to squint. It was a clear day. Mum was inside, and we were waiting. I guess she was with “Fuck Face” at the time. Short, vicious little man, with the jet-ski and the motorbike and the powder-keg temper. Like a terrier with a switch-blade.
Sketch in fine black ink by J.
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