Claire McNab: Quokka Question

It really was funny, and we all laughed, except for Fran. She smacked Lonnie across the side of the head with a first aid kit, no doubt to jolt some sense into him, but it had the opposite effect. Lonnie did a theatrical swan dive and thrashed around on the floor, saying, "System crash! System crash!"

Even Ariana had tears in her eyes from laughter, and Bob, who when keenly amused, gave out the most disconcerting, braying cackle and came close to choking. Fran, her hands on her hips, surveyed us stone-faced until we had laughed ourselves out.

"Wonderful," she said. "Brilliant. I'm calling a repeat drill at five o'clock. Perhaps by then the importance of disaster preparedness will have sunk in."

"We can't," said Melodie, still giggling. "Tonight's the play reading. We've got main parts, Fran. We have to leave early."

That wiped the smiles off several faces. This evening there was to be a reading of Quip's Laughter Under Luna in front of an invited audience. Quip had called each one of us to make sure we would definitely be attending. Harriet had shamelessly played the pregnancy card, saying her need for regular bathroom stops would be too disruptive to an audience grappling with an intensely dark tragedy.

The rest of us had no escape, although I halfheartedly tried the fact I had a damaged hand as an excuse. It didn't work: Quip had begged, and I'd given in. Having been exposed to the lines Melodie and Fran had been learning, I had the gloomy conviction we were all in for a very long night.

As convictions go, this one turned out to be only partly accurate. We all dutifully arrived at the theater, which was small, shabby, and cramped, and joined the other members of the audience, none of whom seemed particularly enthusiastic. I did my level best to snaffle a seat next to Ariana but was foiled by Lonnie on one side and a total stranger on the other.

Settling in my singularly uncomfortable seat, I recalled that Harriet had said that Quip intended LUL to distill the angst of the early twenty-first century. She'd been laughing when she'd said it, and as the reading began, I saw why. Quip had unintentionally written a funny deep tragedy.

The muffled giggles started almost immediately. Full belly laughs took a little longer. On the stage, Fran, Melodie, and the rest of the cast, all arrayed on high stools with leather-bound copies of LUL in their hands, seemed more puzzled than upset.

Melodie, apparently believing the levity had been caused by some lack of depth in performance, upped her lines to such searing intensity that the audience howled. So it turned out to be a long evening, but definitely an entertaining one.

In the crush after the performance, I looked for Ariana, but she had slipped away and no doubt was on her way home. For one mad moment I thought of getting in my car and following her there. I had a fair idea why she was giving me the cold shoulder and needed to have it out with her.

Good sense prevailed, and I returned to Julia Roberts instead. I went to bed, brooding. My hand hurt, my ribs hurt, my heart hurt. Jules inconsiderately had a full-scale wash on the bed around three o'clock in the morning. All in all, it was a miserable night.

I got up early, went into Ariana's room, and left a note on her desk. I'd labored over the wording for ages, trying several versions out on Julia Roberts. With her help, I'd finally ended up with the simple, "We need to talk."

People arrived. The day began. About nine-thirty Ariana came into my office. Shutting the door behind her she said, "That was reckless of you. Irresponsible."

"Rash," I said. "Impulsive."

"Don't laugh at me, Kylie. I'm serious. The first rule you learn in law enforcement is backup. You went in alone."

"I had to."

"You didn't."

"OK," I said, getting up and coming over to her. "I wanted to impress you. Prove to you I could be a crash-hot P.I., a worthy partner in the business. Maybe I went a bit far-"

Ariana gave a rueful half laugh. "I'm not altogether sure I can take the stress of having you as a partner."

"Do you notice a flock of little pink pigs circling the room, their tiny wings flapping?"

"I don't believe so."

"Until you do, I'm not going anywhere."

“I see.”

"And I'm not hanging around expecting you to ever fall for me in any big way." I couldn't resist adding, "A small way would do, if you could manage it."

"Kylie…"

"And if you're counting on me losing interest and giving up, you've got Buckley's."

Up went her eyebrow. "And Buckley's would be?"

"Buckley's chance, which is no chance at all. You're stuck with me, Ariana."

"I'll try to cope."

"And I won't stop loving you, no matter what."

Ariana looked at me for a long moment. "I wouldn't want you to," she said.