last girl extract

7/27/2019 Last Girl Extract

1/14

MichaeladaMs

the

girl


2/14

First published in 2013

Copyright Michael Adams, 2013

All rights reserved. No part o this book may be reproduced or transmitted inany orm or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying,recording or by any inormation storage and retrieval system, without priorpermission in writing rom the publisher. The Australian Copyright Act 1968(the Act) allows a maximum o one chapter or ten per cent o this book,whichever is the greater, to be photocopied by any educational institution orits educational purposes provided that the educational institution (or body thatadministers it) has given a remuneration notice to Copyright Agency Limited(CAL) under the Act.

Allen & Unwin

83 Alexander StreetCrows Nest NSW 2065AustraliaPhone: (61 2) 8425 0100Email: [email protected]: www.allenandunwin.com

A Cataloguing-in-Publication entry is available rom theNational Library o Australiawww.trove.nla.gov.au

ISBN 978 1 74331 636 8

Cover and internal design by i2i DesignCover and internal artwork, Te Wall o Sound, Marika Jrv, 2013Cover and internal images (cityscape, girl and ames) by iStockphoto.comSet in 11.5/18.5pt pt Minion by Midland Typesetters, AustraliaPrinted and bound in Australia by Grifn Press

10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1

The paper in this book is FSC certified.

FSC promotes environmentally responsible,

socially beneficial and economically viable

management of the worlds forests.C009448


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1

PROLOGUE

I always knew Id see the end o the world.

Being born under a bad sign couldve had something to

do with that. But I didnt need an omen to tell me we were

headed or oblivion. My screens were so constantly lled with

cataclysmic scenarios that it seemed obvious the questionwasnt ibut when.

Not i but when wed be wiped out by climate change,

superu contagion, solar surge, rogue meteor, nanotech terror,

nuclear madmen, alien invasion, robot uprising, zombie

outbreak or just the good old wrath o God. Hellwe were

so used to contemplating the end o the world as we knew itthat wed even given it an acronym. But the one thing all o our

EOWAWKIs had in common was that theyd be caused by

something outside o us.

Maybe I shouldve seen what was about to happen. Right

up until those last moments I didnt put the pieces together any

better than anyone else. I certainly never thought novelty socks

would trigger the apocalypse.

But or me they were the beginning o the end.


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ONE

Te Content Planet.Dad lied the book rom its reindeer gi

bag, tilting it this way and that, like there was some angle he

wasnt getting.

Stephaniehis wie, my stepmothernodded sagely. I

thought you really should read it.

Dad had read it. Months ago. On his tablet. I remem-

bered because Id thought the title reerred to a world in a state

o peaceul happiness. Dad had scoed and set silly me

straight. Not content. Content. Stephanie had been right there

at the breakast table when hed gone on about meeting the

author at some conerence. At least I had been listening. Well,

hallistening.

Ive been meaning to get this. Dad pretended to read the

back cover.

Stephanie beamed rom beside our acrylic tree. Her

platinum extensions cascaded rom under her Santa hat and

her boobs pushed against the uy trim o her Mrs Claus rock.

Te estive outt wasnt or Dads benet. Te curtains were


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wide open so anyone passing on Beautopia Points promenade

would be presented with my stepmother as the sexy centrepiece

o our tacky Christmas card. Stephanie was literally windowdressing.

Ill read it on the ight, Dad said. Tanks.

Te ight. Dad had oered to cancel his business trip.

I told him Id be ne. It wasnt like him being around would

make any dierence. Dad tried to hide his relie but I knew

he was glad to be let o the hook. I reckoned that mentally he

wasalready in the airport lounge, sipping scotch and rehearsing

his sales pitches. But rst, there was amily business to conclude.

So ar hed given me a skate-shop voucher enclosed in a card

with wishes or a better New Year and love rom Dad.

Now it was Stephanies turn.

Here you go, Dad said, glancing up rom his phone and

giving her a silver envelope.

Stephanie sliced it open with a plastic nail and her eyes lit

up on whatever gure was inscribed on her BestU gi card.

Dad had given her the same present last year but I guessed the

numbers needed to improve with age.

Oh, nice, she cooed, planting lipstick on his cheek.

He conjured a smile. Not that you need it.

As much as I was into recycling, it was pretty lame that Dad

had used that line last year, too.

Eyes puy, hair everywhere, crumpled in my pyjamas: I just

wanted to be back in bed. But it was my turn again.

Here, Danbyn, Stephanie said, passing me an identical

reindeer gi bag.


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She never called me Dan or Danby. Payback or me

never embracing her as Steph back when she thought wed be

horseriding BFFs. What I did call her was Stepordy and Step-phoneyat least when I dissed her to my riends.

Tanks, Stephanie.

I appraised the gi. A compact disc. Eye In Te Sky by

Distant Afiction.

Tey do neo-covers, theyre post-hipster, Stephanie said,

echoing something shed heard somewhere. So, yknow, very

cool. I think you should like them.

Stephanie didnt mean she hopedI likedthe band. She really

meant I shouldlike them. I I agreed with her that they rocked it

meant she at thirty-whatever was as cool as sixteen-year-old me. I

I told her they sucked it meant she was coolerthan me. Stephanie

couldnt lose. But I was pretty good at not letting her win.

Teyre very popular, I said evenly. Tanks.

I hope you dont mind its not a download, she replied.

But the old-school sound rom a CD is so much warmer, dont

you think?

I grinned at her totally bogus retro aesthetics, just managing

to not ROFLMFAO, as they used to say. Madly cackling on

the lounge-room oor wouldve been like nuking mysel or her

enjoyment. Te last thing I needed was any sort o scene. Better

to give her this petty victory.

You know, I said, still trying not to laugh. Tat is so true.

Stephanie nodded with satisaction.

I wasnt just keeping the peace or mysel but also or Evan,

their six-year-old son, my beautiul little hal-brother, who was


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8

swinging one o his new kiddie gol clubs too close to a spray o

marigolds arranged in a vase on a side table.

Goo! he yelped.Careul! Stephanie said way too harshly.

While she played the role o dutiul handmaiden to Dad

and condescending big sister to me, sometimes she reacted

to her own boy like what he suered wasnt a condition but a

compulsion to annoy her. Evan usually didnt notice her anger.

Tat just made her madder.

Goo!

Evan let the club clatter to the oor, plunged his hand into

a bucket o gol balls and guawed as he clacked them around.

Stephanie vented an exasperated sigh. Dad glanced up rom an

app and aped something like amusement.Goo! I said, grinning at Evan.

He was a goo all right, nature as golden as his complexion,

and his mothers antipathy and our athers ambivalence made

me love him all the more.

Goo!

Gol! Stephanie steamed. Gol!Gol, Evan, or godsake!

It was such an overreaction that I wanted to laugh right in

Stephanies ace. What stopped me was I was suddenly right

inside her head.

Goddamnit-Evan-understood-gol-Now-hes-back-to-the-

ull-retard!

Tis was ar beyond her usual transparency. Far beyond my

usual bitchy guessing at her every awul motive.


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Tis was me tuning in to what she was thinking and

eeling and remembering. I was with her as she ashed to the

aernoon shed ound Evan upstairs staring intently into the3-D broadcast o a PGA game.

Gol, hed said, executing the perect imitation o a pros

power swing. What a tremendous drive that is. Evan was

transxed, copying plays, parroting commentary.

Such mimicry would come out o nowhere and disappear

just as abruptly. But every single time Stephanie couldnt help

thinking savant. Since that aernoon she had daydreamed about

chaperoning her little champion to lucrative tournaments.

Shed be newly single, still young and courted by rich men.

But another desire curled under her lust or ame and power.

Someone would see her. Reallysee her. Love her.

Now Evan held two gol balls like big y eyes and her antasy

evaporated. Not-going-to-happen-At-least-Brendans-going-soon-

No-not-David-I

I snapped out o it. Stephanie wasnt saying anything, hadnt

said anything. But it had been so real in my head.

Shit.

Dr Jenny said the Lucidiphil would silence the voices.

Keep me stable until I could see the specialist. Id taken the

medication three times yesterday and once this morning as

directed. But it was happening again. At least my amily didnt

notice my ace go white or my eyes go wide. I made a conscious

eort to close my mouth.

My plan had been to call Jacinta this morning, wish her

Merry Christmas, apologise or everything and ask her to get


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the word out that I was okay. I wondered i I could still do that.

I elt pretty reakin ar rom okay.

Here Brendan, Stephanie said, handing over Dads lastChristmas gi. You should love these.

Her voice matched her lips. I wasnt imagining emotional

mind movies or her anymore. Maybe what had just happened

was a minor relapse, residual madness, nothing to worry

about, resolved now. Dad dragged his gaze rom his phone and

squished his little reindeer bag.

A bottle o single malt?

A desperate dad joke, even by his standards.

Socks, he said as he lied the ootwear rom the gi bag,

ace screwed up like a soothsayer getting bad entrails.

No, said Stephanie. Teyre Soxies!

She pointed at the cursive stitching. See, it says So Soxy!,

oo Soxy!, and, my avourite, Sox On Legs!

Dad tried or a grin but came up with a grimace. You

shouldnt have.

I guess those stupid socks were physical maniestations o

what ailed the planet and I couldve seen the apocalypse in them

any time I cared to look. Tirty per cent cotton grown rom

patented corporate seeds and harvested by peasant kids. Seventy

per cent polyester spun rom the war and corruption o Middle

Eastern oilelds. Chemically dyed and machine-woven in

some belching actory whose toxic waste gushed into reshwater

rivers. Sorted and packed by ser workers deprived o democracy.

Pallets piled into containers and trucked to cargo ships that

ploughed across dying oceans in clouds o particulate. Process


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reversed at ports o destination: containers and pallets and

boxes and packets broken down so Soxies could ull their

destiny as stocking ller destined to become landll.You-shouldnt-have.

As Dad said it again, I knew the socks didnt trouble him

politically, socially or environmentally. Tey troubled him

economically. Not as items o global trade but o personal trade.

His and Stephanies relationship was a series o transactions

based around sex, status and stuand she wasnt keeping herend o the bargain.

Except I couldnt know any o that. Dad hadnt spoken

again. Wasnt speaking now.

Havent-touched-me-in-months-his-some-sort-o-joke?-

Nothing-but-time-and-my-money-to-spend-First-the-book-

Now-this-crap-Tis-is-what-Im-worth?

I rubbed my eyes. Tis was like accidentally pushing the

wrong button on the remote so the directors commentary

comes on.

You-shouldnt-have!-You-stupid-shallow

I thought youd think Stephanie started to say. It-was-

unny.

Her mouth tightened. Her eyes narrowed. What did you

call me?

Behind her venom I heardthoughtI heardwhispers o

desperation.

I-shouldve-gotten-him-something-better!-Shouldve-let

David-earlier!

Lightning-etched ashes o my stepmother with her

personal trainer bombarded my mind. Yesterday aernoon,


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Stop! I yelled at them and mysel. Stop!

Stop!-Stop!-Stop!

Tey didnt hear me. Tey didnt stop.Dad throttled. Stephanie scratched.

I-gave-you-everything-You-cheated-you-cheap

Get-of-Tis-is-assault-Youre-hurting-Cant-breathe .

Her ace turned purple as he clamped his hands tighter

around her throat.

Evan was crying or laughing, I couldnt tell which. Either

way, I had to make this stop. Without thinking, I snatched a

gol club rom the oor.

Dad, stop!

He shuddered as he pressed his weight down.

I-hope-it-hurts-you . . .

Stephanies bloodshot eyes bulged over his shoulder. Please-

Danby-hit-him-hit

Dad turned his head just as I swung the putter and cracked

him hard across the temple.

last girl extract

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