Names for Nothingness Read Online Free Page B

in possessions, and this has not changed. Caitlin, too, had the same irritating lack of regard for the material. She would not have cared if she had gone to school in dresses that were too small for her, or socks that did not match. As she got older, she would listen to their disagreements over money and side with Liam, not in words, but in her actions, in her clear preference for his company over her own.
    When they first left Sassafrass, in all those months before Liam began to do the odd freelance job, there had been times when there was not even enough money for food. She had finished her schooling at night, and worked during the day, waiting in cafes, typing; she had taken whatever she could get. She had been horrified at how much money they needed just to survive. She would wake at night, anxious, and he would attempt to soothe her, telling her it was all right, it didn’t really matter, and, if the worst came to the worst, they could always borrow from Margot.
    She had, at first, tried to blame Simeon for their poverty. She had gone to him before they left Sassafrass, hoping to receive some payment, even if it were only token, for the years of labour. She had been genuinely surprised at his harshness, his refusal to help her.
    â€˜We housed and fed you. God knows what would have become of you if we hadn’t.’
    She told him that she had thought they were friends, and she raised her voice slightly, both of them aware that shewould be heard by the others in the hall should she choose to increase the volume a little further.
    â€˜I mean, we’ve fucked each other.’
    â€˜That doesn’t enter into it.’
    â€˜Obviously.’
    She looked around his room, at the Indian wall hangings, the books of teachings, the candles, his robes, washed daily by Mirabelle, and she shook her head in disbelief, both at his words and at her own stupidity for having had any faith in him.
    â€˜You are not fair,’ she said, hating her childlike complaint. ‘I am not even asking for full payment,’ and she stared straight back at him as she told him she would have no hesitation in revealing their meetings to Mirabelle.
    He didn’t even blink. ‘Tell her what you like. People only ever believe what they want to believe.’
    It was Liam who had urged her to let it go, and she did as he asked because she trusted him then, completely.
    Gradually that trust has eroded.
    She remembers how she once wanted to go to university and she shakes her head at the recollection.
    â€˜You should just do it,’ Liam would say, supportive as always, but eyes closed to the reality of their situation.
    It had, of course, never eventuated.
    Let it go. It is what he has always told her. Until now. Since she brought Essie home, there has been a change. He wants to take her back to Caitlin. When he first told her this, they had argued. She asked him to drop it, and she had expected him to do just that. But even though he no longer talks of taking Essie back, she knows that this is still what he wants to do. She sees it in his face, whenever she looks at him. She is afraid each time he leaves the house with Essie, afraid he will not return, more so this morning than ever before.
    She stands now on the footpath, the blister on her foot sore from where one of Liam’s boots has chafed against her skin. Across the road the young guy who works the newsstand grins and waves at her, and she raises her hand in response. Normally she would go over there, particularly as she has not seen him for a while. On her good days she is still partial to a flirt, and he is always keen. He asks her out, and she tells him she has to get permission. ‘From my husband,’ she says, ‘and he’s a mean old bastard. Besides, I’m too old for you.’
    He beckons her over now, but she pretends she hasn’t seen him, knowing she doesn’t have the capacity to summon up the light-hearted banter they usually