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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