CHAPTER 11
Liz and Jeremy stood on the street, regarding the perfectly average home like hungry mice looking at cheese in a trap. The house loomed over them, with its manicured lawns and carefully tended rose bushes, its white gate, and warm welcoming light spilling from the windows.
‘What the fuck, Jeremy?’ Liz said finally.
She was dressed like someone from one of the sexy dancing scenes in The Matrix , tall and terrifying in black pleathers and heeled boots.
Across the street, an older woman in a dressing gown walking a small dog on a lead stopped to look at her and then scurried back into her house.
‘Well, I did say it was a house party.’
‘Yes, a share-house party. You know, everyone in the kitchen for no reason, noise complaints, huge lines for the one bathroom, smooching someone on a roof and being rescued by firefighters … This is a family home. There are probably grandmas in there, Jeremy. Multiple grandmas. And don’t get me started on the grandpas. ’
‘What is a family home if not the original, multi-generational share house?’ said Jeremy.
‘All right, well, good luck. Fuck this, I am out.’ Liz sighed, already pulling out her phone to summon an Uber.
‘No, that’s fair,’ Jeremy conceded. ‘I’m going to bounce too, I think.’
‘No, you have to stay. Sam is your friend and it’s his thirtieth birthday that he invited you to. I was not invited, which wouldn’t matter if this was actually a house party, but it does matter for something held in the parental home.’
‘I just didn’t think anyone would choose to do something for their birthday with their family,’ said Jeremy. ‘I assumed this would be the kind of thing where there’s a sack of wine on the clothesline.’
‘Dude, did you even bring a gift?’ Liz asked, starting to laugh.
Jeremy looked down at the pack of alcopops he’d bought in a fit of nostalgia and noted how he’d already drunk two at home. He tossed them into the bushes. ‘Fuck.’
Liz laughed even harder. ‘Oh shit. Okay, tell me how it goes. Good luck.’ A car pulled up and she folded her legs in, taking one last drag on her cigarette, throwing the butt onto the street and exhaling a plume of smoke as she shut the door.
Sam had met Anna and Liz a few nights earlier at a pop-culture pub trivia that they occasionally attended (Liz was too competitive so it was only a sometimes treat), and it had gone so well that he’d decided to bring her along to Sam’s party.
Anna was invited too, but was reluctantly unwell, and currently seething in her bed.
Now that optimism had blown up in his face, and he had to face a room full of strangers, and Sam’s family in particular, all on his own.
Jeremy squared his shoulders and bitterly regretted deciding to wear a crop top.
He opened the gate and walked to the front door, and was startled when it burst open before he could even knock.
Sam leant against the frame, wearing that huge smile Jeremy had come to expect.
His dark hair had curled slightly around his forehead, and his stubble was neatly trimmed.
‘You made it!’ he said, pulling Jeremy in for a long and all-encompassing hug.
Jeremy found himself leaning into it gratefully, and then tensing and pulling away.
‘This is nice,’ he said, touching the lapel of Sam’s dark-blue Oxford shirt, which still had some pressed creases on the side.
Jeremy did not think it was nice – he thought it was painfully boring – but it did suit Sam.
‘Thanks! It was my present from my grandma. If I hadn’t put it on immediately, and kept it on, she would have decided I didn’t like it and taken it back. If I’d showed even a hint of doubt, she would have torn it off my back and frog-marched me to the nearest Politix.’
‘A fate worse than death,’ said Jeremy.
‘Come in. You’ve missed the food, sorry, but we’ll be doing cake and speeches and stuff soon, so you’re right on time,’ reassured Sam, steering him through the door and down a hallway.
At the other end, the murmur of conversation and the sounds of ‘Suffragette City’ by David Bowie could be heard – loud but not blaring.
When they got to the end, Sam removed his hands from Jeremy’s shoulders.
The room was large and open plan, encompassing a kitchen, lounge-room and dining table in one space.
It was clearly built in the seventies: Jeremy observed a lot of wood and sunken-floor areas, big windows and some large abstract art.
But it was also very clearly a family home – collections of photos cluttered most of the surfaces.
There was one of Sam as a child, wearing Ugg boots and holding up a stick like it was the best thing he’d ever seen, his smile making him instantly recognisable.
There were quite a few people around, some dancing near the sound system, a gathering of old people entrenched on the couches, and some more around a large table near the kitchen.
Through some closed glass doors, Jeremy could see a small backyard, also full of people.
An excited dog ran around their feet – he knew this was the family’s beloved Ziggy.
Jeremy relaxed a little – he wasn’t walking in, horribly late, midriff exposed, to a family dinner, Sam’s father in a three-piece suit and a monocle at the head of the table, his mother cuttingly polite.
(Jeremy had been watching a lot of Downton Abbey recently.) While this was very much a family function – Liz had been correct about the grandma saturation point – it was clear that it was still a party.
‘Darling, thank god,’ trilled a voice behind him.
He turned to see Patricia tottering down some wooden spiral stairs in a tight red velvet dress covered in fringes and frills, looking like a fabulous cushion, her hair piled elegantly on top of her head.
‘Can you believe not a single person at this event has complimented my dress yet?’
Jeremy shook his head in mock horror. ‘You look gorgeous,’ he said sincerely as she twirled, but then noticed her pause, clearly waiting for more. ‘Girrrrrrrl,’ he drawled. ‘Uh … a total slay, boots down.’
She beamed. ‘Let’s get you a drink.’
‘Excuse me for a second,’ said Sam, as a woman Jeremy suspected was his mother beckoned him. She had longish iron-grey hair and she looked unhappy about something, her arms crossed.
Patsie strutted through to the kitchen, looking very at home, and messily poured a couple of shots of tequila into some glasses.
‘Cheers, bitch,’ she said, clinking the tiny glasses and throwing back the shot. Jeremy followed suit, using this moment to get his bearings.
‘Yeah, tally-ho.’ Then he leant in. ‘So, what’s this vibe?
’ he asked quietly, still watching Sam talking to his mother.
They’d been joined by a younger woman in a smart suit and heels, and a bald guy Jeremy assumed was Sam’s dad.
They were exuding ‘party argument’ body language, speaking through clenched teeth so nobody would realise they were fighting.
‘Hmm?’ said Patsie, following his gaze. ‘Christ, you’re observant. Yeah, that’s Sam’s mum and older brother and sister … They’re a lot.’
Jeremy raised his eyebrows. ‘Yikes. I thought that was his dad.’
‘Anaesthetist,’ she murmured, leaning into the timehonoured gossip position. ‘And if you ever get stuck talking to him, you’ll find out how good he is at his job – doesn’t even need the drugs to put you to sleep. She’s a surgeon. I actually don’t mind her.’
‘They seem very tense.’ Jeremy watched as Sam threw up his hands, clearly surrendering to something.
‘And there it is,’ Patsie whispered. ‘I love him, but that boy has no spine.’
Sam came back over to them, pulling some car keys from his pocket. ‘Good thing I haven’t managed to drink much yet,’ he said brightly. ‘Just gotta pop out and pick up Great Aunt Edith.’
‘Isn’t it your birthday party?’ asked Jeremy, raising his eyebrows.
‘It’s a complicated situation – lots of logistics,’ Sam answered cheerily. ‘I should only be half an hour … maybe an hour, depending on traffic.’
Jeremy looked at Patricia, who shook her head slightly then said, ‘Oh, I just saw Denise from work. I have to show her my shoes,’ and she moved away, taking the tequila with her.
‘Just settle in and I’ll be back soon,’ Sam said. ‘Have you got a drink? There are some nibbles over there too.’
‘Sam, are you telling me nobody else can pick up your great aunt?’ asked Jeremy. ‘Can you send a car for her? Once again, it’s your birthday – a party where everyone is here to see you.’
‘It’s fine,’ Sam responded, but he was very clearly trying to move past the question. ‘Dave is coming off a night shift so probably can’t drive, and Ana has already had a couple of drinks. Edith couldn’t get her head around an Uber and Mum’s hosting … it’s really just easier to pop out myself.’
‘That’s bullshit, but whatever. I’ll come with you. I don’t want to hang around talking to people I don’t know,’ Jeremy said, his mind already made up.
‘Sammy, your uncle is trying to lure a possum into the house,’ came an exasperated voice. A very short and immaculately made-up woman grabbed Sam’s arm, shaking her head.
‘Again?’ Sam said, laughing quickly.
The woman sighed loudly, then noticed the keys in his hands. ‘Oh no, Sam, tell me your mum isn’t making you buy more ice. I already told her I can go get it.’
‘No, Aunt Edith,’ Sam explained.
‘Sam! Honestly.’
‘Don’t you start too,’ Sam said, looking briefly at the ceiling before gesturing to Jeremy. ‘Heather, this is my friend Jeremy. Jeremy, Heather.’
Heather looked at him, smiling politely. ‘Sammy is sometimes too kind for his own good,’ she explained.