The Thread That Binds Pt. 03

Chapter 9:

Katy was also absorbed in creative matters that Christmas afternoon. In her case the project proposal she was writing for Gary, which distracted her mind from her own loneliness and self pity for having nowhere to go at Christmas. True Gary had invited her to a company Christmas party, but in reality the 'company' was just the two of them. It was a shame that she and Gary could not hold down jobs, and had to rely on each other. Ironic. The first time I actually get on with a boss and he's the one who gets fired.

Polly was spending the day at the family of a friend she had met at pre-school. She will probably come back stinking of flesh, Katy thought, but then she had given up trying to keep her daughter vegan in a country swimming with animal products, with its entire economy based around killing.

Gary's work on traffic flow was important. If his proposals were adopted by the regional council and recommended to the parliamentary Transport Committee, it could start a regional trend that might eventually mean the end to the hegemony of the motor car, with its concomitant pollution, noise and destruction of habitat to build more roads. Problem was firstly that although Gary was an engineering genius he couldn't write, and seemed incapable of explaining problems in a way that a non engineer could understand.

The other problem was the way Gary had annoyed an opposition politician who had spoken out against his proposals. He had explained the details to Katy, but she was rather hazy on them, given that he had been thrusting himself inside her on the occasion, and Katy's mind had to juggle itself with the problems of staying upright, savouring her feelings and concentrating on the issue in hand.

It seems that in a fit of temper, Gary had accused the politician of being a 'moronic petrol head'. That in itself, while not exactly erudite, would still be considered acceptable rhetoric in the cut and thrust of political debate. The problem was that he had then stated that Mr Teal's brain was 'completely addled from sniffing petrol fumes and other funny stuff.' Implying that someone was a drug addict was a more serious matter, and the politician had threatened to take him to court for slander.

This was a couple of weeks ago, and of course nothing would happen now until after the Christmas and New Year break, but Gary had still been disconcerted. At one stage he had raved so much he had twice missed Katy's hole, leaving Katy unsatisfied. Mark was just so much better as a lover.

Katy had spoken about Mark to her mother on Christmas morning. Told her how she was starting to be attracted to him, but he was so totally different from her nothing would work. "He has this snooty lawyer bitch clinging like a leech," she had said.

Katy's mother knew better than to remonstrate with her daughter, or even to give advice. After Katy had told her of Gary and Kevin she had adjusted her features from shocked sin-detector to loving Christian mother, and told Katy she loved her and God loved her, and she would be praying for Katy and her situation.

"Go back to a church, Katy," she said at last, finally gaining confidence to give advice after Katy had cried herself into a semi-catatonic state. "I know the Khandallah church was a disaster, but there are others around where you may feel at home."

"Yeah, mum, I know. But all of them think it's okay to do what we want with animals. They say we have 'dominion' over them as if that excuses everything. I wonder what Jesus would think if he visited our battery hen farms, where hens are kept in semi darkness, cramped in cages, pecking each other in frustration. Or in a pig farm where the pigs are smeared in their own shit, can't move. Can't even turn around. Totally given up hope for living. Or the broiler chicken farm, twisted genetic freaks in constant pain. Or rodeos - or horse jump racing..."

"I think you know what Jesus would think," interrupted Katy's mother. "There are some terrible things done to animals here in Myanmar as well, I can tell you. But I am concerned about your soul, Katy, and so is Jesus. You can do more for animals, or your friend Gary's environmental traffic models if you are spiritually at peace. Please think about it, and go back to church. You were always so on fire for the Lord at Sunday school."

Katy pouted. She was thinking hard. Church represented at once all she desired and all she despised. She remembered the social camp fire sessions, the camaraderie centred around group singing of "let us come together," complete with actions, in the company of people she had loved at the time, though after the camp had ended she lost touch with them.

At the same time, Katy remembered the sneers of the church elder when she had approached him to ask if the church could stop eating meat at the barbecues; or at least could make a vegetarian alternative available, on a separate hot plate.

"Too much trouble," he had said. "God doesn't care about cows and pigs," he added with barely concealed scorn. And then of course there was the treatment meted out by the Khandallah church. Mark's church. The one he went to with the stuck up prig of a girlfriend he was going out with.

"Look, I must go, Katy." Katy's mother broke into her thoughts. "I have to organise the Christmas lunch for the mission."

"Which I suppose includes dead bird and dead pig," spat Katy.

"It does actually. You can't expect change overnight. Missionaries are traditionally minded, and they want a traditional Christmas. Especially when they are so far from home."

"Yeah, we all know what the missionaries' position is..." began Katy. Then, realising what she said, her mouth twitched, before she dissolved into a fit of giggles.

Her mother stared blankly back at her. "Glad to see you can still laugh," she said. "Something has obviously amused you, though I can't see what. Anyway, must go. Call me again tomorrow will you?"

When Katy's mother had got off the screen, Katy fell back on the couch and roared with laughter. Then she decided she had better get back to her work. Katy worked solidly for another hour, then took the bus out to the pub where she was meeting Gary for lunch. They spent a couple of hours eating, drinking and socialising, then Gary dropped Katy home. There was an awkward pause as he stood in the lounge.

"I'm not up to it today, Gary," said Katy. "Another time, maybe."

"What's the matter? You're not normally shy. I'm surprised any of your knickers still have the elastic on them, they go up and down so quickly."

"Just not into it, Gary. Fuck off."

"Okay, Katy, keep your hair on. So if I'm not up for any fun, I suppose I'll see you in the New Year."

"What, are you going away?" Katy felt betrayed. She expected at least one other social misfit among her acquaintances.

"Engineering conference in Christchurch. I'm flying out tomorrow. Have to present my proposals to transport engineers from Transit and regional councils. Should be fun - not."

Gary turned around and walked around without giving Katy any further acknowledgement.

Polly came back from her party as Katy was just settling down to her work again. As Katy had expected, the stench of dead animals emanated from her breath and every pore in her skin. Meat, fish, sausage on a stick - all the nursery food that hadn't changed since Katy was a girl.

Katy bathed Polly - getting rid of some of the stink, and put out new clothes for her. She then sat down with her daughter in the lounge and started talking to her about her evening.

"Why don't we eat meat at home?" asked Polly suddenly.

Oh no, every time she goes out, Polly asks the same question.

"Because we care about animals. Animals are our friends and I don't eat my friends."

"Tammy's mother says you're a freak for not eating meat. I told her I don't eat meat at home either and she said that makes me a freak too. What's a freak, mummy? It doesn't sound very nice."

Katy felt a pounding in her head. Why did she have to put up with this shit?

"Its what ignorant people call anyone who is different from them," she said. "I wouldn't worry about it. You're not a freak, Polly, and nor am I."

"And what's a slut?"

This time, Katy gave a cry of annoyance. Polly burst into tears. Quickly Katy wrapped her daughter in a hug, cursing her lack of volume control.

"Who's been telling you that word?" she said, when they had both calmed down.

"Sam's uncle. He told Sam you were a slut, and an easy lay. But I don't know what he means."

"It's another nasty word people use. Don't use it yourself will you? Would you like to watch one of the DVDs I gave you for Christmas? Then we can have some tea."

"That would be nice, mummy," said Polly. She gave her mother a hug, then rushed to the DVD player. Katy had taught her how to use it recently, thinking of the times she may have to rely on the electronic baby sitter while she was busy with her professional or personal life.

Katy thought about who might be spreading rumours about her. Unlikely to be Mark. Though Katy despised his middle class sense of entitlement she also knew he had a rigid sense of honour, and part of it was not to kiss and tell. Especially while he was two timing.

And Katy doubted whether Gary would be telling any of his friends. For one thing, he hadn't any friends. So that just left...

"Kevin!" she said aloud. "You evil hypocritical prick." She thought of the way Kevin liked to come in to stick his cock in her hole, tell Katy that he loved her and would cherish her, and all the time...

"He just wanted me as his personal bonk-bag."

Katy realised she had said this aloud as Polly looked around, momentarily distracted from Charlotte's web. "What is it, mummy?" she said.

"Nothing sweetheart. Go back to your DVD." Katy grabbed her cell phone as Polly turned back to the screen. The next twenty minutes she spent on a vituperative message. Using all her narrative and literary talents to tell Kevin just exactly what she thought of him and what she would do if he ever stepped foot in her place again.

Later in the evening she had tea with Polly. In deference to the special occasion she had made a nut loaf with lots of miso-based gravy and vegetables, and a fruit salad for dessert, with vegan ice-cream.

"Merry Christmas, Polly," she said. Forcing a ho-ho-ho Christmas voice for her daughter.

"Merry Christmas, mummy," said Polly, pulling the other end of the cracker her mother held out to her.

Polly took herself off to bed, and Katy slumped in front of the TV, until her own bed time. She wondered what to do on Boxing Day. The Wellington vegetarian society were holding their yearly pot luck, but it was held in Island Bay, the buses and trains were sporadic on public holidays, and it would be difficult for Katy to get back. And anyway, she didn't feel like socialising. If it was across the street she might go, but dragging herself and Polly all the way to the other end of Wellington would be too much effort for too little reward.

Katy put up with a couple of hours of banal Christmas cheer on television, then turned it off and went to bed.

#

It was the banging that woke her. Before the sun had even climbed the hill behind her house and squeezed its beams through the curtains, waking her early on the long summer mornings. Katy lay in bed, half asleep, groggily aware of the noise but not yet conscious enough to do anything about it until it had been going on for several minutes.

Katy dragged herself out of bed, and noted the time. Seven thirty. Early for a holiday. Her wooziness was replaced by anger. Just who the fuck was banging at this time, waking her up, frightening her daughter.

Katy took a moment to peer into Polly's room, and note the tousled hair motionless on the pillow. She paused to contemplate her beautiful blonde daughter in her vulnerable sleeping state, before an even louder bang roused her.

Katy ran down the stairs dressed in the t-shirt and shorts she wore to bed, the smell of sleep still on her body, and flung the door open. "What the fuck do you think you're playing at, you..." she yelled, and then stopped when she saw who she was talking to.

Katy took in the height, the bright blue uniforms, and the batons, radios and other dangling paraphernalia before her brain kicked in.

"Police," she gasped.

"That's right," the tall young policeman said to her. "We are here to investigate a complaint about a young woman called Katy, from this address." The police woman, almost as tall but aggressively feminine looking, stood at his side.

Like most activists, Katy was not keen on cops. If she had been at a protest, like the one she recently attended outside l'oie, she would have known how to handle them. Expecting trouble as soon as she saw the car pull up with the flashing light, she would get into defensive mode and snarl at them, telling them very little.

In her own home, half asleep, her breasts visible through her t-shirt, she felt at a distinct disadvantage, and did nothing but gape. The police officers seemed to sense they had the upper hand.

"Mind if we come in?" the tall man asked, then, without waiting for a reply he walked into the lounge. Now at last Katy found her voice. "What do you want?" she said, hoping to sound belligerent but her voice came over more peevish than anything.

"We have reports of text messages of a threatening nature. We would like to ask you a few questions if we may, young lady." The two police officers sat on the couch, ignoring the indentations, and waved Katy to a hard chair.

Katy had sat down before she could properly register the impertinence of the officers calling her 'young lady' when they were only slightly older than Katy, or their imperiously ordering her where to sit in her house.

Just then, there was another knock. This time it was the woman who spoke, probably sensing it was time for her to assert herself. "Don't answer it," she snapped.

But Katy had recovered and was no longer inclined to do as she was told. She flung open the door, and Mark stepped through. He was dressed in a dark suit and wearing shades. Like a gangster on his way to a hit, she thought, but then relief flooded through her. Mark could be a witness for what would probably prove to be a very unpleasant confrontation.

"What's going on?" said Mark. "Why are there police cars outside?"

At that moment, of the officers opened the door to the lounge. The two officers stood in line in the doorway, notebooks in hand.

"I thought I told you not to answer the door," said the police woman. Then she looked at Mark. "Who are you?" she said, but in a slightly less aggressive tone.

"I'm a friend of Katy." Mark appeared wary of the police, and Katy remembered the last time he had been confronted with the forces of the law.

"Ah, yes, I recognise you," said the male officer. "Our officers arrested you for assault and battery a month or so ago. Well, your fancy lawyer mate isn't here now, and your friend is in big trouble." He held up a cell phone. "Want to read the threatening message she sent to one Kevin Johnston?"

"Not really, no," It seemed Mark was trying to be defiant, but rebellion against authority was not in his nature. He went up to Katy and put his arms around her. "Don't worry," he said. "I'll get Mr Hodge."

"Don't use the phone," the officer spoke sharply, seeing what Mark was about to do.

Mark hesitated before pressing the numbers, stared at Katy, then at both police officers in turn. They stared back. Mark shrugged and went on pressing numbers. The phone at the other end was answered. Mark put it on speaker phone.

"Shones," he said. "Sorry to wake you up. But I need to talk to your old man. Urgently."

"What's it about, Mark? Dad won't be awake. He got paralytic drunk last night. He'll be sleeping till twelve."

"Its a legal problem. I'm at K... a friend's house, and there are some police about to arrest her. Your old man helped me when I was arrested. I hoped he could help me again now."

"Even though we're no longer boyfriend and girlfriend?" Shona's voice, even through the distortions of the speaker phone sounded acerbic."

"Jeez, Shones, can't you give this a rest? This is not about us."

"All right, Mark. It's your girlfriend, isn't it? What's she alleged to have done?"

"She sent some threatening..." began Mark.

Shona interrupted. "Mark. That's hearsay. What you mean is she is alleged to have sent something threatening. Is that what you are trying to say?"

Katy listened in to the conversation, impressed in spite of her animosity. The faces of the two police officers were arranged in the same features of grudging admiration.

"Tell your friend to make no comment," said Shona. "Got that."

"No comment, right," muttered Mark.

"Another thing. Did your friend invite the police inside?"

"No!" yelled Katy, loud enough for Shona to hear.

"Then you need to ask them for a search warrant. If they can't produce one, you have every right to order them off the property. If they don't go, they're trespassing."

Katy looked around at the police officers, ready to do as Shona suggested, only to find that they had pre-empted her.

"We'll be off now," said the man. "But you haven't heard the last of this. Threatening grievous bodily harm is a criminal offence."

The two cops walked out of the room and closed the door behind them.

"You were great Shones. Is that what they teach you at law school?" said Mark.

"To be honest I haven't started with any real law at school yet," said Shona. "Its all legal theory. I picked the practical stuff up from dad."

"I'm sure Katy would like to thank you. Hang on, I'll pass the phone over to her." There was an awkward pause as Mark passed the phone to Katy. She shrank away, shaking her head.

"Katy's still too upset by the whole affair to talk to you," said Mark. "But she's certainly grateful."

Shona had hung up. Katy turned to Mark. "You're girlfriend was great," she said. "Too bad she's so stuck up."

"Ex-girlfriend, Katy," replied Mark.

"So what did you break up over? Wasn't me was it?"

"Not at all," said Mark. Katy wondered why he couldn't admit he was attracted to her.

"She's a d...". Mark paused.

"A what?" asked Katy.

"She's a ... uh... dedicated lawyer. That's why she doesn't want to go round with me. I'm too much of a distraction"

"Really! I thought you were going to say something else. But your sex life is nothing to do with me. So why aren't you suited? You're both middle class yuppie types, wanting to make money. You with your medicine and her with her lawyering. What do you see in a drop out hippy-type like me. A solo mum. A slut."

"Who called you that?" Mark's eyes narrowed. "I'll punch him silly."

"Don't you think you've done enough punching on my behalf?" said Katy. "Next time the police may not be so accommodating. Even with your Mr Hodge to defend you." As she said the name, Katy thought she had heard it before somewhere. Perhaps Mark had mentioned him when he got Mark off the assault charge.

"I don't want anyone to hurt you, Katy," he said, with such a sincere sounding tone that Katy burst into laughter.

"Oh that is so rich. The strong alpha male, protecting his woman. I've been hurt a great deal. And it's not your fault and not something you can fix."

"But this chap who called you a slut. That's just not..."

"He's right though, isn't he. You said yourself you wished I wouldn't sleep around. I was mad last night when I found out he'd been spreading rumours about me. I sent him a text calling him every name I could think of. Which probably comes under the heading of allowed freedom of expression. But when I told him I would come round to his place, bite off his cock and ram it down his throat, he decided he would get the police involved."