Sisterly Love is a serialized novel. To savor the full narrative experience, start at the beginning and work through the chapters in order. You can find chapters on the Home page or in the Archive.
CHAPTER 25
Demonstrators converged on Capital Hill coming from all directions, waving flags and unveiling placards as they mobilized in the ministerial parking lot. From behind the double-glazed window in her office, Summer watched the organizers meander through clusters of mostly women—laughing, hugging, sharing the vision.
“Amandla!” A woman cried out, raising her fist in the air.
Summer recognized the rallying cry of the oppressed from the women in her ambit who raised their fists in response, echoing the claim to power. She took in the scene with a combination of inspiration and reserve; something felt different about this event. The placards were more pointed, less clever than those she had observed at other political campaigns. And there was anger. “My Voice Matters Too!” read one. Another, nearby, stated “I’m Not Your Bitch, Boyo!” Both were directed at the Leader of the Opposition and both displayed a caricature oversimplifying his smugness so that he looked like a fool. Summer knew that this sentiment could not become the human face of the referendum. If it did, retribution would prevail and the gains her forebears—those courageous first feminists—had worked to achieve would be lost. Rage and self-interest, she told herself, cannot not be the prelude to equity and peace.
She narrowed her focus on a small group of women huddled in animated conversation. She tried to get a fix on one woman in particular; there was something familiar about her. The unruly style of her hair, her ungainly stance. Summer squinted but she couldn’t be certain. The crowd was dense and fluid. It was hard to retain a clear view. But there they were again, those hectic gestures. She willed the woman to look her way. Instead, the figure crouched, slid a finger into the heel of her Blundstone, then pushed the boot over her foot and kicked it off. Almost immediately she clasped the heel and shook it impatiently until she had freed the object that irritated her so.
“It is you!” Summer cried, snatching up her security pass.
Minutes later she burst through the revolving doors at the Ministerial entrance and into the crisp winter afternoon. She elbowed through the mass of humanity; its frenetic pulse and untamed expectation unnerved her. Someone shoved her and she jumped. The randomness of the act and the brief spark of pain brought back memories of demonstrations she had covered as a young reporter.
One in particular had stayed with her. A human rights group in her hometown, Brisbane, had been objecting to a tour by the South African rugby team, the Springboks. The camera operator and sound technician wanted to film the protest from the front and were trailing Summer as she pushed through the marchers. The mood of the rally was what police termed “controlled,” a human composition inching slowly, peacefully along the city’s main street. Every now and then someone called out on a megaphone and the marchers chanted the response—like Catholics do in Mass. But then, out of nowhere a high-pitched scream was heard; the voice on the megaphone thundered something about “pigs.” In an instant, peace turned to rage, and anger swept through the marchers who panicked and began to disperse in all directions. The camera operator dropped to one knee to capture the melee—this would be the news—and Summer and the sound technician surrounded him in a protective cone. But they were quickly knocked down then separated. Summer took refuge behind a parked car, clinging to the bumper as the mob skimmed and chipped at her. She crouched as low as she could and covered her head with her hands. The experience had left her wary of events where people amassed to passionately express a shared vision.
Not long afterwards, the Annes had tried to encourage her to attend a rally designed to bring the gay community together on a shared agenda.
“Fat chance of our community achieving that,” Summer had replied.
“I know,” said Anne One. “The homosexuals hate the lesbians and the lesbians hate the bis and the trannies hate each other...”
“But we have to start somewhere,” Anne Two said.
Summer had not wanted to reveal her vulnerability to the Annes and she pushed back, insisting that her effectiveness was behind the scenes.
“The pen is mightier than the sword,” she proclaimed.
And now, in the Ministerial parking lot, she found herself questioning her hasty decision to abandon the safety of her office. She slowed almost to a halt then decided to give up her search. She swung around in the direction she had come and that was when she bumped headlong into Kate.
“I thought that was you!” Kate cried, throwing her arms around Summer and bear-hugging her.
Summer experienced a sudden vivid recollection of her visit to Gilgandra, where she had first met Kate at Peg’s home. Kate threw her arms around Summer, and Summer hugged her back, pulling away when Kate burst into rapid chatter. Summer stepped back and took the opportunity to observe her; she seemed smaller, and there was something fragile about her.
The barista at the Kookaburra Cafe made hearts in the froth of their cappuccinos. Summer passed him her credit card and glanced over at Kate, who was waiting at their table. Her head seemed to be spinning on her shoulders as she took in the wonders of the Members’ Hall.
“This is cool,” said Kate, when Summer returned.
“It is,” Summer agreed. “Every time I pass that huge block of black stone with its glistening water, I feel that nothing is beyond the realm of possibility. But that was the intention of the architect.”
“You never think about the creator when you’re in a nice building,” Kate said.
“Would you believe it was designed by a New Yorker?”
“That’s over the fence!” Kate grinned. “Don’t we have any architects in Australia?”
“Apparently not! But it’s hard to fault his commitment to our country or our democracy,” Summer said, looking around.
Kate sipped her cappuccino. She wiped away the milky mustache with the back of her hand.
“I was hoping I’d see you,” she said.
“It’s pure luck I spotted you,” said Summer. “I wish you’d let me know you were coming to town. It’s been an age since we last connected.”
“Two years, seven months,” Kate announced.
“Has it been that long?” said Summer, surprised at the specificity of Kate’s observation. “And not a word from you in all that time,” she accused playfully.
“Well, it’s not like we’re besties or anything,” said Kate.
“It’s this job,” said Summer with a note of apology. “It sucks up your life.”
“That’s what Mum said when she heard you were working here! She said, ‘That’s not a life for a girl’.”
“She did?”
“She still doesn’t know I’m in touch with you,” Kate admitted.
“How is your mum?” Summer asked, instantly regretting the timing of the question.
“She hates you!” Kate’s ferocity sent a chill through Summer.
“Well, I shouldn’t be surprised,” Summer said.
“Don’t worry,” Kate consoled her. “She hates me too.”
“Really?”
Kate rolled her eyes. “Yes really... well, no actually, she loves me, but she hates how I’ve shamed the family.”
“You mean by being gay?”
“Not just that. It’s what I did to the Nicholls boy, the guy I was supposed to marry.”
“What guy?” Summer said, “Did you tell me this?”
“Nah. I was trying to put it behind me, and you were so concerned with finding me somewhere to live and helping me get a job when I arrived in Sydney...”
“Ok, but how did you end up almost marrying someone? I thought your mother knew about you.”
“She did, but she didn’t agree with me,” Kate emphasized agree. “She said it was just a phase and that I would get over it, and when I didn’t, she demanded I get over it.”
Summer frowned. She felt anger toward Peg and wanted to condemn her selfishness and pride, but she kept quiet. There was something bothering her about Kate; she was grubby, unkempt even, and now that they were alone, Summer was aware of an odor emanating from Kate; it had a rancid quality that she recognized on a homeless woman in her neighborhood to whom she gave her spare change.
“So, what happened when you didn’t get over it?”
“I tried to,” Kate protested, blowing on her cappuccino. “I went out with Rod on dates, and to barn dances and I even wore a dress and went to a B&S with him!”
“A B&S?”
“You’re such a city gal!” Kate accused, boisterously. “A Bachelors and Spinsters party,” she translated.”
“Of course!” Summer said.
“I had sex with him too,” Kate admitted. “That’s when I knew for sure I was gay: he did nothing for me. I actually found it a bit repulsive. So, I thank my mother for pushing me to try out heterosexuality because how else would I have known?”
“But you did know, Kate, you just got manipulated by people who put their own interests first,” Summer said, then told herself to shut up. “Sorry, Kate, I get so wound up sometimes, it’s the bigotry and the suffering and...”
“Anyway,” Kate continued, ignoring Summer, “I decided I’d give it a go. Marriage, that is. Sex isn’t everything and he was a nice guy—” Kate hesitated, “It’s such a mindfuck,” she said, “that bubble of acceptance. When I was going out with Rod, it was so easy to put my questioning aside; everyone liked me and I felt happy, it was like... like anything was possible. I truly believed that mum was right, that I just had to find the right man.”
“Go on,” said Summer.
“Mum threw herself into organizing the engagement party, which we had in the barn. The whole community came. It was a gas. I had the best night. Until the next morning when I woke up, still drunk and in a weird state of mind, like my head and body were in two different places. I can remember slamming my knee into my tallboy and not feeling a thing. Anyway, I got in my car and drove it all over the paddocks,” Kate paused then laughed, “I totally destroyed the suspension,” she said, laughing again. “But the feeling was incredible... I felt powerful, like I was invincible, like nothing could touch me. I had my foot hard down on that accelerator and I remember thinking that the car was barely moving, even as the speedo hit one hundred and sixty, and I was crying, tears streaming down my face because I couldn’t make it go any faster, and then suddenly the car flew up in the air and everything went in slo-mo— that was wild, Summer!” Kate sucked in air. “And then I blacked out and woke up in the hospital.”
“Jesus, Kate!”
Kate smirked and finished off her cappuccino. She seemed to be enjoying Summer’s shock.
“I rolled the car several times; they could tell that from the damage. They reckoned I was lucky. The steel frame stopped the roof caving in and crushing me. When I woke up, I was angry though. I wanted to be dead and I was alive. Rod ditched me and everyone went back to treating me like a problem not a person.”
“And that’s when you came to Sydney? After that?”
“Yeah, I went to Sydney, like you said to...”
Summer tensed, suddenly feeling defensive. “Did I say that? Crikey! I think what I meant is that there’s a bigger community of gays in Sydney... you’re more likely to find your tribe than if you stayed in—”
“Relax, Summer,” Kate interrupted, rolling her eyes, “I’m not putting anything on you... I’m fully responsible for my actions.”
Kate held her palms up and broke into a furtive grin.
“What?” Summer said, feeling off-kilter. It was becoming a challenge to discern what about Kate was playful and what was serious.
“When I left Gil, I had no way of getting to the train station. I’d totaled my car. So I took the tractor!” Kate beamed, like a naughty child. “I left it parked outside the Gilgandra Police Station... so that Dad could easily find it.”
“Now that’s funny,” said Summer, not knowing what else to say; Kate’s story was deeply disturbing and she did not know what to make of it.
“The rest is history,” said Kate. “You know about Effy...”
“That was my next question. Where is she?”
“In Sydney. She couldn’t come. It’s her family. She’s not out... they’re Italian... her father would kill her. Need I say more?”
“Not at all,” Summer said, raising her eyebrows. “It does feel weird though, in this day and age when being gay is supposed to be so accepted and when the nation is openly discussing equality.”
Again Kate rolled her eyes. “Get real, Summer!”
“You don’t think we’ll get the Yes vote?”
“I think I’m sick of politicians fighting to make the one thing right that they think I need, then declaring my entire problem solved and telling me to shut up and stop complaining.”
Summer paused. The sentiment sounded more like political rhetoric; a strategic message, rather than a personal grievance. She wondered where Kate had picked it up but decided not to pursue it and took her at face value instead, responding in kind.
“But that’s what’s so perfect about the referendum,” Summer said. “It will give us a seat at the decision-making table and nothing will be ignored.”
As she spoke, Summer could hear her own passion and hoped she did not sound too forceful, sales-like. But Kate’s attention had shifted. Her eyes were following a woman who had emerged from the Senate. The politician sashayed along the edge of the pond; she glanced briefly at Summer then at Kate before disappearing into the Ministerial wing.
“That’s a lezzie if I ever saw one,” Kate grinned, delighted at her discovery.
“There’s a few of us in here,” Summer said, winking.
Suddenly, Summer’s phone trilled. She stepped away to take the call and returned almost immediately.
“Hey,” Summer said, “wanna meet the P.M.’s chef? You’ll like her, she’s a lezzie.”
+
Summer and Kate stood at the stainless-steel bench like sentinels, watching the pale gold chardonnay tumble out of the bottle. Frankie passed around the glasses.
“To your health, Kate!” Frankie said, raising her glass.
“I bet that’s not what you say in China?” said Kate.
“We’d say ganbei! Which you would most probably translate to ‘down the hatch’ in Australia or ‘bottoms up!’ if you’re in Britain.”
“Ganbei!” said Kate then drained her glass.
“So, are you Chinese or Australian?” Kate asked.
“I’m Chinese-Australian,” Frankie replied.
“Righto,” Kate said, dissatisfied.
“I was born here,” Frankie qualified, “shortly after my family arrived from China.”
“So, is your family good with your sexuality?” Kate inquired.
“They are now... but they weren’t always.”
Summer edged toward one end of the bench and observed Kate and Frankie. In the fluorescent light, Kate had acquired a fuzzy quality that seemed to smooth her rough edges, and for a moment Summer could imagine her blossoming, like the lotus flower when it reveals its inner core. Frankie clearly liked Kate, and that pleased Summer.
Suddenly Frankie threw back her head and laughed heartily.
“Yes, it’s safe,” she said, laughing again. “Trust me, girls in China hold hands all the time that’s what close friends do. And that’s what my parents thought I was doing with my first girlfriend.”
Kate nodded, seeming impressed.
“But to be a filial son or daughter you have to have children, another legacy of Confucius; not a very helpful one, and this was the bigger issue for my family when I came out to them because in China, one of the worst sins you can commit is to have no children.”
“That’s a bit rough,” said Kate.
“People like my parents don’t think it possible that someone would not get married; my brothers have married.
“How many brothers do you have?” asked Kate enthusiastically, “I’ve got two, both older. I’m the baby.”
“Same,” said Frankie. “Sons are the most important in Chinese families.”
“Gee, maybe my family’s secretly Chinese,” Kate joked, leaning into the counter and adjusting her weight to one side. Her right boot involuntarily tapped at her left and Summer saw a worn patch on the sole of the dusty leather boot.
“What about the girls?” Kate asked.
“If the girl doesn’t get married,” Frankie went on, “she will just be a disappointment. She will be a disappointment if she is also gay, but not as much as if one of the sons is gay.”
Kate’s face fell. “My brothers won’t have a bar of me,” she said, then just as suddenly, she perked up again, “but I’ve enrolled in Community College, in Ag studies, so that Phil can hire me back at home when he takes over the family business. There’s a shortage of skilled workers in Gil, and he won’t be able to say no.”
“That’s fabulous news about college,” said Summer, trying to sound enthusiastic. This was not the level-headed Kate she had helped settle into Sydney five years ago; the determined young woman who had found herself a job as a laborer’s assistant and a share house with girls her age. Summer could see that this Kate was struggling.
Kate addressed Frankie.
“Did you always know you were gay?”
“I did. Just like you and Summer.”
“How did your family take it when you told them?” Kate asked, dropping onto her elbows and cupping her chin.
“Well, it wasn’t so bad. By then my family had been in Australia for more than twenty years,” said Frankie. “They had become open-minded and, even though it was hard, they accepted me. Now they see my sexuality is nobody’s fault, just a natural thing.”
“Wow,” Kate said, “you’re so lucky... that’ll never happen to me.”
“It would’ve been different if I had grown up in China, but my revelation was not my parents’ first culture shock. Australia was.”
“Yeah, I suppose that would be hard. I reckon I’d go into shock if I had to move to China.”
Frankie chuckled. “Yup, I think you would too. But my parents have been able to embrace the Australian way of life and this made them more willing to question Confucianism. It’s hard now for them to see their daughter as a disgrace when they see same-sex couples all around them.”
“Do you ever get mad?” Kate pressed on.
“Things upset me.” Frankie lifted her glass and sipped delicately. “It’s hard being stripped of my dignity, having the way I live compared with pedophilia, or polygamy, or bestiality, or—”
“I hate being called a queer,” Kate said. “I’m not queer but everyone tells me I am. Mum can’t stand it. She says: ‘I can live with having a lesbian as a daughter but not a queer.’ Sometimes at the Gay Center I feel like I’m in a freak show: the LGBTQ Zoo, where they corral all the weirdoes that nobody knows what to do with. I don’t go much these days. It’s getting worse.”
“How did the bis slither into the acronym?” asked Summer.
“The spectrum of sexuality,” said Kate, sarcastically.
Frankie smirked and shook her head.
“I accidentally dated a bi,” said Kate. “She slipped through my gaydar—”
“Did you get the ‘I just love sex with men’ threat?” asked Summer.
“You mean the ‘I can jump ship anytime I like’ threat?” Frankie said.
Kate laughed, but a hint of bitterness betrayed her amusement.
“You’ve gotta be careful these days, that’s for sure,” said Summer. “If a lesbian tells me her family’s gonna love me because I don’t look like a lesbian, I know it’s time to run.”
“That happened to you?” asked Frankie.
Summer nodded.
“And did they?’ Frankie asked.
“Did they what?”
“Did the family love you?”
“Course they did,” Kate said, throwing an arm around Summer. “Who wouldn’t love Summer?”
“Hear, hear!” said Frankie, grinning.
“What’s funny?” Summer playfully demanded. “Don’t you agree with Kate?”
“I couldn’t agree with you more, Kate,” Frankie said, holding Summer’s gaze.
Kate had begun to chew on her fingernails, gnawing at one digit then the next. All of a sudden, she raised her glass.
“Let’s all just be ordinary,” she said.
Summer and Frankie raised their glasses.
“Here’s to ordinariness,” said Frankie.
Summer watched Kate empty her glass in one gulp. Her unease returned. What am I not seeing? she asked herself. But she could not put her finger on what it was.
Per Parliament House protocol, Summer escorted Kate back through the Ministerial Wing and off the premises. On the concrete steps, they stood side by side and canvassed the deserted parking lot.
“Where are you meeting your friends?” Summer asked.
“At Cubed in Civic,” said Kate.
“That’s a great bar,” said Summer. “It hasn’t yet been overtaken by the gay-friendly straights.”
“Yeah, good,” said Kate, without enthusiasm.
Summer saw that she had detached again.
“Stay in touch,” Summer said, turning to Kate, “and maybe try to make new memories—”
“That’s easy for you to say,” said Kate with a sudden vehemence. “Look at you: you’re pretty and smart, you’re at the top of your game and you’ve got someone who loves you... I doubt you’ve ever seen a day of grief in your life.”
Summer felt simultaneously gutted and foolish. She couldn’t understand what had possessed her to say something so utterly Pollyannaish.
“I’m sorry, Kate. I don’t know what I was thinking.”
She considered telling Kate about her parents but dismissed it as a cheap attempt at one-upmanship.
“Nah, I’m the one who’s sorry,” said Kate. “You’re a good person, Summer.”
Kate gave Summer an affectionate nudge.
“Please don’t hesitate to reach out if there’s anything I can do for you,” said Summer, “I wrote my private cell number on the back of my business card.”
Kate dropped down a couple of steps and started to back away then hesitated.
“I don’t suppose you have a sofa I could crash on?”
“Oh, my God! Kate. It didn’t occur to me to check if you had somewhere to stay. Of course you can sleep on my sofa... um, I’ll be here for another couple of hours, but I can give you a key to the apartment now if you think you’ll be home sooner—”
“No worries,’ Kate said, “I was just thinking that if I don’t hook up with my friends—”
“Yeah, of course,” Summer said. “Just call... use the work cell number on my card, it’s on twenty-four seven.”
“Thanks,” Kate said, skipping back up the steps and wrapping her arms around Summer. “By the way, your Frankie is a really lovely woman. You can’t go wrong with someone like her.”
Summer laughed. “We’re just good friends.”
“Is that what Frankie thinks?”
“Gimme a call if you need a bed,” Summer said, ignoring the question and kicking herself for the lie. She immediately committed to tell Kate the truth when she saw her next—this was not the time to explain why she and Frankie had felt compelled to keep their relationship quiet at work.
“Will do, ciao!”
“Be happy!” Summer called after her, unable to stop herself.
Summer remained on the steps watching Kate’s determined strides bear her into the shadows and, finally, around the corner of the Australian Parliament where she melded into the concourse. Summer did not know why she felt sad that Kate had not looked back. As she returned to her office, she had the disquieting feeling that she would never see Kate again.