Etiquette for a Dinner Party by Sue Orr Page B

a beauty, isn't she. Brand new model, just in.' His hands in his pockets, jiggling away. Then out again, as though he'd remembered the training manual bit on body language. I realised he hadn't recognised me.
    Finally, he looked at me properly.
    'Excuse me. Jesus Christ. Sammy Walker?'
    The moment was gorgeous, every time. Like stepping into a hot bath.
    'Yes, yes I am . . .'
    'It's me. John . . . John Beveridge. We went to school together. Christ, you've changed . . .'
    And then it was a rush of handshakes, big clammy hands grasping my Country Road linen shirt across the shoulders, then off again, smiling and more jiggling.
    Keep it in your pants, John, I thought. He had a mullet haircut which actually suited him, as much as a mullet can suit anyone. Mullets were the thing among Paeroa men. The girls went for botched Jennifer Aniston cuts.
    'Sammy Walker, eh? I'll be buggered! What are you doing with yourself these days . . . ?'
    'Actually, I'm in Auckland, working for a law firm . . .'
    'A lawyer — that's amazing.' .

    By morning tea time the sleet had stopped. It was still freezing, but the rule was Outside If Not Raining. We were on the wooden seats outside the classroom. Gabrielle Baxter tucked her Chicks hair back behind her ears and took the little crosses out of her ears. I watched as she carefully clipped the little silver backs onto the stalk parts of the earrings.
    'They're called butterflies, the back bits,' she said. Butter, I thought. Gabrielle Baxter is all butter voice and butter hair. I imagined, just for a moment, licking her pale butter skin.
    I held the tiny crosses in the palm of my hand. There were little diamonds in them. They were the most beautiful things I had ever seen. If you had to have sex to get some, it would be worth it.
    'Can I have a look after Sammy, Gabrielle?' This of course was Erin, who had somehow managed to wedge herself in between me and Gabrielle. She always did this. We were jammed in tight together, the three of us, but I wasn't moving because I'd been sitting there first so why should I? And also, it had annoyed me how Erin had said Gabrielle , as though she had been her first friend. In the end Gabrielle moved over a bit to make more room.
    'Yeah but don't lose them. They're Mum's.'
    I remembered what she'd said about her mother dying next month. I looked sideways at Erin, but she didn't say anything. She had the butterfly back off one of the earrings and she was pushing the little silver stalk of the main part hard against her earlobe. Her ear was going bright red, but when she pulled it away there was just a mark, no hole.
    'I'm getting my ears pierced,' Erin said. 'For my birthday.'
    This was news to me.
    'Me too,' I said, though I knew I wouldn't be allowed. I could just see Gabrielle Baxter and Erin walking around school with their earrings in. Not only that, Erin had straight black hair and I knew the next thing would be them walking around school with earrings and Chicks hairdos, the blonde Suzanne and the brunette Judy. In this picture, I was somewhere alone in the background; all skinny legs, no bright McKenzies-bra chest, and dunny-brush haircut. The misery in me was overwhelming. I hated Erin's guts.
    Erin gave Gabrielle her earrings back. We were swinging our legs backwards and forwards. Four ugly black stinky gumboots — one, two, three, four notes climbing up the page on Mr Frank's music sheets, then beautiful slingback, beautiful slingback. Gabrielle Baxter's slingbacks were tan leather, with a black trim round the open part of the top of the shoe. The strap round the back of the heel was also black leather. We kept the timing up for ages, not saying anything.
    I was thinking about how amazing it was that out of all the schools in New Zealand, Pekapeka Primary had got the Baxters. But there was also this horrible tight feeling in my stomach, which felt worse when I thought about Erin.
    'Is your mother really that sick?' Erin said, after a while. I couldn't