Bright Young Things (10 page)

‘Haven’t you heard?’ they’d say.

‘What?’

‘Sasha was in an accident this morning.’

‘Seriously?’ Thea would say, even though she knew they were winding her up.

‘Yeah,’ they’d reply. ‘Haven’t you heard? She’s dead.’

And then Thea wouldn’t know what to say. If she laughed and acknowledged it was a joke, there was always the chance they were telling the truth, in which case she’d be committing an awful act by laughing. But if she acted shocked and upset, she’d seem like a fool because of course they were only joking. It’s like what’s going on here with this kidnapping. No one’s getting upset because it might be a joke. On the other hand, no one’s really laughing just in case it isn’t.

Jamie and Anne come in from outside and sit down at the kitchen table with the others. Jamie pours himself a glass of wine from the half-empty bottle on the table. Thea’s already had a glass and she feels slightly better. She hadn’t been sure about drinking the wine at first, but Emily had persuaded her that drinking was probably the best thing to do in this situation. Anne looks at the wine suspiciously, then pours a glass of lemonade. She starts freaking out when she tastes artificial sweeteners in it and tips it down the sink. Instead, she pours herself a glass of milk from the fridge, and somehow manages to find a box of strawberry Nesquik in one of the cupboards. Then, in one of the drawers, she finds some straws. Everyone watches as she rejects the blue, yellow and green ones in favour of a pink one, presumably to go with her milkshake. Thea doesn’t know why everyone else finds this so interesting. OK, she’s doing it with that infuriating innocence – which just has to be put on – but Thea won’t be sucked into it. As far as she’s concerned this girl needs to grow up.

‘Skin up,’ says Bryn to Emily.

‘What?’ she says.

‘You must have some draw,’ he says.

‘Why must I have some draw?’

‘Girls like you always do.’

‘Oh,’ she almost blushes. ‘Well, I’ve got a little bit . . .’

She rummages around in her rucksack and eventually pulls out a small lump.

‘Give me that,’ says Bryn.

‘What?’

‘
I’ll
build one up.’

Emily shrugs. ‘OK.’

Bryn pulls some tattered-looking small green skins from one of his pockets. The front of the packet has been entirely ripped away. He produces a joint in about thirty seconds and shares it with Emily and Thea. Jamie, Paul and Anne all say no. Anne’s slurping on her milkshake. Jamie’s writing something on a piece of paper. Paul’s watching Anne. Thea wonders where Jamie got the paper and pen.

‘Where did you get that?’ she asks.

‘Sitting room,’ he says. ‘In the bureau.’

‘Oh.’

‘I’m planning our defence shelter,’ he says. ‘For when the kidnappers come.’

Anne smiles. ‘I always wanted to meet a Boy Scout.’

‘Do you think the kidnappers will come?’ asks Emily.

‘If they are kidnappers,’ says Paul. ‘It could just be a load of situationists for all we know. Or even some of our friends.’

‘For fuck’s sake,’ says Thea. ‘If this is a joke or a situationist prank or a dada statement or whatever else, it isn’t very funny – or interesting.’

‘I think it’s funny
and
interesting,’ says Anne.

‘Shut up,’ sayd Thea.

‘Stop telling me to shut up,’ says Anne. ‘It’s just what I think.’

‘What do you think then?’ Bryn asks Thea. ‘Why do you think we’re here?’

‘Me? Um . . . Maybe it’s just a really weird job interview.’

‘What do you mean?’ says Emily.

‘Well, all this could be some kind of test.’

Her words sound weak, because she doesn’t believe in what she’s saying. Thea’s already decided that when the kidnappers appear, which they will, she’s going to bolt and hide on her own, maybe down by the cliffs. The way she’s feeling, if all the others get murdered sitting in their
defence shelter
, then that’s just fine with her. Of course, if they weren’t being so blasé she’d be happy to work with them, but for the time being she’s going to listen to what they have to say, assess their theories and be polite. And when the shit hits the fan, Thea’s going to be looking out for herself. For now, she’s going to keep worrying about her stomach cramps. What a time to have your period. Emily lent her a tampon upstairs before, but said it was her last one. Tomorrow – if Thea makes it that far – she’s going to have to use bog roll.

The others are more convinced by her job interview idea than she is.

‘What, you mean that this is the interview?’ asks Anne.

Thea says nothing.

‘It would make sense,’ says Paul.

Emily laughs. ‘Yeah, like that totally makes sense. Please.’

‘No, I see what he means,’ says Jamie. ‘We went for a job interview, and the last thing we all remember is drinking coffee and waiting to be shown into the interview room. What if this is the interview room?’

‘Fucked up, man,’ says Bryn.

‘So if this is the interview, then there’s no need to be scared,’ says Emily cheerfully.

‘Yeah, whatever you reckon,’ says Paul sarcastically.

‘This is the scariest job interview I’ve ever been to,’ says Thea.

‘It must be illegal,’ says Jamie.

People look at him strangely, like he’s just said the sky is blue.

‘So where’s the interviewer, then?’ asks Anne.

‘Maybe there is no interviewer,’ suggests Paul mysteriously.

‘Yeah, it could be a bonding exercise,’ suggests Emily. ‘You know, a wild men in the woods kind of thing. See if we end up working as a team.’

‘Wild men in the woods?’ says Bryn. ‘Oh, you mean where everyone goes into the woods and bangs drums and seeks their inner man? They did that on
Home and Away
.’

Anne looks up. ‘Yeah. Alf Stewart and Donald Fisher went.’

‘Is Alf still in it?’ asks Emily.

‘Of course,’ says Anne.

‘And Ailsa,’ adds Bryn.

‘Ailsa’s in a coma right now though,’ says Anne.

‘I only watch it round my mate’s house,’ says Bryn. ‘His mum has it on all the time.’

‘What about Bobby?’ asks Paul. ‘I fancied her.’

‘Dead,’ says Anne. ‘Ages ago.’

‘Sophie?’

‘Left Summer Bay with her love-child.’

‘Shannon?’

‘Living with a lesbian in Paris and attending the Sorbonne.’

‘For God’s sake,’ Thea says, sighing.

‘Do you watch
Neighbours
as well?’ Emily asks Anne.

Anne nods. ‘It’s not as good as
Home and Away
but . . .’

Emily laughs. ‘You’re taking the piss, right? By “good” you mean really bad. Like, you watch it in an ironic way.’

‘No.’

‘Seriously?’ Emily doesn’t seem sure if Anne’s joking or not.

‘Yeah, seriously. Here’s an example. About ten years ago there was this plot where Bobby Simpson, Pippa’s out-of-control foster daughter, starts seeing the local headmaster Donald Fisher’s son Alan. At around the same time, this woman called Morag has come to Summer Bay and she’s living in this really big Gothic house generally being evil. It comes out that Fisher had an affair with her a long time ago and that Bobby was the resulting love-child. Meanwhile, Bobby’s getting on really well with Alan, who is obviously her half-brother, although neither of them knows that. Morag and Fisher don’t want to reveal the truth to Bobby for the time being, but they can’t have her sleeping with her own brother, so the whole situation gets a bit complicated. Just as they start to intervene, Fisher’s son collapses on the beach, is taken into hospital and later dies.

Fisher then comes clean with Bobby. She dies too, several years later. I think she drowned, but that was during my No TV experiment. Anyway, ten years on, the book Alan wrote about his difficult relationship with his father,
On the Crest of a Wave
, is put on the HSC curriculum. It also gets picked up by a film company. So right now, there’s this film crew in Summer Bay trying to get to grips with all the characters who are still there, because Alan based the book on real life. And there’s this actress character walking around trying to get into the part of Bobby, about eight years after the original character actually left the series, and the best thing is, all the plot from right back then is still consistent with now.’

‘Wow,’ says Emily. ‘You really know your soaps.’

‘Only that one,’ says Anne. ‘And
Neighbours
, I guess. People say that Australian soaps are silly and fluffy. But
Home and Away
always has the best, most interesting psychopaths, the most well-drawn characters and the most imaginative plots. You know, like Joey’s dad being a cult leader and then Joey becoming schizophrenic and seeing his dad appear in his computer screen – after his dad was shot by Terry Garner, the slaggy local cop. Or when they wanted to tackle racism. Instead of just having some black characters come along and have everyone be nice to them, they had a plot where the leader of this right-wing political party came to do a rally in Summer Bay. It showed how lots of the locals got taken in by her ideas, and demonstrated that although the “anti-foreigner” ideas are morally wrong, they are quite logical. There was a lot of debate between the characters, which was much more effective than all that crap they do on
Eastenders
or whatever. The black teenagers started thinking about their identity as well. Then they had this Aboriginal teacher who came and . . .’

‘Don’t you like
Eastenders
?’ interrupts Emily. ‘It’s so good at the moment.’

‘No,’ says Anne. ‘I think it’s the worst thing on TV.’

‘It’s a bit depressing,’ agrees Jamie.

‘And the acting is appalling,’ says Anne.

‘Do you think so?’ asks Emily. ‘I thought it was all right.’

‘No. The acting in
Home and Away
is fantastic, though.’

‘Seriously?’

‘Yeah. It’s good on
Neighbours
as well. Susan and Carl are great comic actors.’

Thea can’t believe they’re going on and on about this crap.

‘Do you watch
Heartbreak High
?’ asks Paul.

‘Of course,’ says Anne.

‘I like that,’ says Emily. ‘I fancy Drasick.’

‘You’ll never guess who’s in
Home and Away
at the moment about to play the part of Bobby in the film, then,’ says Anne.

‘Who?’ asks Paul.

‘Anita from
Heartbreak High
. How cool is that?’

It doesn’t make too much of an impact on anyone else, although this is the most animated Anne has been since they all got here. Thea sighs. Typical for it to be about something as irrelevant as soap operas.
Australian
soap operas.

‘Don’t you like any English stuff?’ asks Thea.

‘Not really,’ says Anne. ‘Not on TV. I like English books and magazines, but for TV and movies it’s got to be Australia or America. You wouldn’t want to get me started on
Beverly Hills 90210
or
Savannah.
’

‘
Savannah?
’ says Emily.

‘Aaron Spelling’s finest hour,’ prompts Anne.

‘Apart from
Sunset Beach
, of course,’ says Emily, smiling.

Anne laughs. ‘Channel Five’s all fuzzy on my TV.’

‘What’s that film with the lawnmower?’ says Emily.

‘
Lawnmower Man?
’ suggests Anne.

‘No, the zombie film.’

‘
Braindead
,’ say Paul and Anne together.

‘That’s Australian isn’t it?’ says Emily.

‘New Zealand,’ says Paul.

Thea just can’t believe this. It takes nothing to get this lot started talking about rubbish. If they are going to talk about the world outside, why not talk about something interesting?

‘I’m lost,’ she says. ‘Weren’t we talking about wild men in the woods or something. What’s all that about?’

‘It’s a bonding thing,’ explains Emily. ‘Getting back to nature. Blokes do it. You know those weekends they send marketing executives on where they have to hunt treasure or something?’

‘Yeah,’ says Thea.

‘And all work together and whatever?’

‘Yeah.’

‘Well, it’s like that.’

‘Oh. I still don’t get how that’s connected to this.’

Emily sighs. ‘Look, they’ve put us in an extreme situation and they’re waiting to see how we cope.’

‘Oh, what, you mean like how we collect food and water?’ says Jamie.

Thea looks at the fridge. ‘It’s not exactly a survival situation,’ she points out.

‘So it’s unlikely to be that, then,’ says Bryn, sighing.

‘Anyway, let’s get this straight,’ says Emily. ‘Paul thinks it’s a prank.’

‘Maybe,’ says Paul. ‘Although I’m into the interview idea as well. Maybe they’re going to wait and see which one of us survives.’

‘What?’ says Thea.

‘You know, when we all start killing each other.’