by Ilsa Evans
Maddie stared at him but quite suddenly his face became blurred, as if someone had loosed a filmy curtain. She closed her eyes, frantically willing the tears away.
‘With regard to the issue of alienation, I note that while such allegations have a distinct legal context, they are not themselves a legal concept. However, there is strong evidence to suggest that alienated children perform more poorly than their peers. I find that there are elements of parental alienation in this case, and that furthermore the mother appears to lack the insight into the effects of her actions on the children, specifically the lack of contact with their father.’
Maddie’s eyes were still closed, but this just seemed to make the magistrate’s voice louder. Battering against her eardrums and thudding its way within.
‘In my judgement, therefore, as instructed, I am taking note of the unwillingness of the mother to facilitate a close relationship between the children and the father. I also acknowledge the father’s willingness to relocate and his willingness to provide more suitable schooling should this become advisable. I note that this supports my consideration, under law, to ensure that the children receive parenting that will help them achieve their full potential. I also note that the independent children’s lawyer favours the father’s proposal over the mother’s, albeit with reservations regarding supervised contact.’
Maddie opened her eyes and the magistrate swam into view, staring down at his papers. She could feel the excitement behind her, a buzz that seemed to have a life of its own, like electricity.
‘I will set the final hearing down for,’ he paused to briefly confer with the clerk, ‘May 23 of next year and I direct that the parties obtain a family report prior to this date. I also request that the independent children’s lawyer not be discharged pending this hearing. And I make interim orders of the following. That the parents have shared parental responsibility for the children, Max Hampton and Courtney Hampton, and that the children live with their father and spend time with their mother every weekend from 5.00 pm Friday evening, where the father will deliver them to the mother’s residence in Badgerton, until 6.00 pm Sunday evening where she will deliver them back to the father’s residence at Silver’s Creek.’
‘Your Honour,’ Mr Redman shot to his feet, ‘could we ask that this access commence not this weekend but the following? This will then allow the children to assist my client with moving this weekend, which is something they are very much looking forward to. And then they can familiarise themselves with the new house before school commences on Monday.’
Diana was already on her feet also. ‘Your Honour, my client has not seen her children for –’
‘Yes, I’m aware of that.’ The magistrate held up a hand and both lawyers sat, but stiffly, as if poised to leap up again. He wrote for a few minutes and then looked up. ‘All right, for this weekend only the children will be delivered to their mother’s residence at 5.00 pm on Saturday, which allows them to spend that day with their father, helping him move.’ He glanced at Mr Redman briefly, and then back down at his papers. ‘And given the pernicious dynamics between the parents, I direct that each parent refrain from criticising or otherwise denigrating the other parent in the presence of the children.’ He looked up, straight at Diana. ‘And, Ms Le Gassick, I urge you to explain to your client the repercussions that follow any contravention of these orders.’
And it was all about expressions. No sound, just expressions speaking a language that was far louder than words. Him with a self-righteous smugness and a loose but possessive arm around each child. Them both gazing at her with an intensity that accentuated the mute appeal in their eyes. But as much as they didn’t want to go, not with him like this, they knew that the number-one rule was to keep him happy, at all costs. And she was washed with the shame of it all.
Maddie jerked to her feet. She could hear herself breathing, laboriously, trying to draw a breath that would go all the way down instead of just catching in her throat. And it occurred to her quite suddenly that she sounded much as she used to after a choking. The incongruity, or otherwise, of this thought injected laughter into her efforts and she hiccupped, swallowing a nugget of air that slid agonisingly down her throat. All the while the magistrate’s voice droned on with barely a pause. So she let her laboured breathing relegate it to the background, where it became merely an unintelligible murmur. Saying nothing, yet everything. And she started moving, past Hannah who was staring at her with naked concern, all the way along the row to the end. Where she smoothed down her jacket and elongated her spine so that her head was held high. Glancing only at Natalie, in the row behind, and then, with a flash of insight, searching her face for the telltale blue blush along the jawline or that extra shadow under the eye. But finding only an expanse of smooth, porcelain skin. And somehow that just made everything even worse.
THIRTEEN
They sat in the car outside Hannah’s house, still wrapped in a silence that had lasted the entire drive. Every so often Hannah would clear her throat, as if about to say something, but then change her mind. Maddie didn’t even make the effort, couldn’t make the effort. Not because she was numb, far from it, indeed she would have welcomed a level of anaesthesia. Just enough to stop the pain, because everything hurt. Every sense, every nerve ending, every pulse. Throbbing just beneath her skin with an anguish so raw it felt organic itself. Like some sort of aggressive tumour, growing by the minute.
Hannah cleared her throat again. ‘I think you should stay here, just for tonight.’
Maddie shook her head.
‘I’m serious, Mattie. You shouldn’t be driving, and especially not all that way.’
Maddie stared at the willow tree at the end of Hannah’s driveway, at the trailing fronds that kissed the grass. ‘I’m fine. I’ll be fine.’
‘You’re not fine.’ Hannah gave a sigh that was almost a groan. ‘And no one expects you to be fine. But you need to talk about it. Say something.’
Maddie dragged her eyes away from the willow and turned to face her sister. She spoke conversationally, as if discussing the weather. ‘How is it you can hurt so much on the inside?’
‘Mattie, I’m just –’
‘I mean, you know if you bump yourself hard that it’s going to hurt. Going to bruise. That makes sense.’
‘Mattie . . .’
‘But on the inside? How do you bruise yourself on the inside?’
Hannah shook her head slowly.
Maddie’s face crumpled and then she folded herself forward, in slow motion, wrapping her arms around her stomach. She groaned. ‘Oh, it aches! It really, really aches!’
‘Dear god.’ Hannah reached over and put an arm awkwardly around her sister, trying to bring her in closer. But Maddie resisted, because even that felt like extra pressure. Sandpaper against her wounds. She pulled away from the embrace, making herself nod towards Hannah, letting her know that she appreciated the gesture. That she appreciated all her gestures.
‘I’m going to go.’ Maddie straightened enough to open the car door, suddenly overcome by the desire to escape.
‘No!’ Hannah reached out and grabbed Maddie’s sleeve, her fingers slipping on the silk. ‘Not yet! Just come in for a minute. A cup of tea. Something.’
Maddie shook her head. She stared down at the creases. ‘No. Look, I just need to get away. Be by myself for a bit.’
‘Mattie –’
‘Sorry.’ Maddie gently moved her arm away. She got out of the car and then stared across at Hannah, now standing on the other side. ‘I’ll be okay. Really. I just need to get home.’
‘Okay,’ Hannah nodded reluctantly. ‘I just hate to think of you up there. Alone.’
‘Sometimes alone is good.’
‘And sometimes it’s not,’ said Hannah sharply. She continued in a milder, more conciliatory tone. ‘So listen Mattie, any time . . . just call or come down here. You can always stay in the granny flat, you know that. We can regroup. Talk about the next step.’
Maddie t
hrust out a hand, needing Hannah to stop. She opened her mouth to say something but the words broke apart before they could be uttered.
Hannah continued, almost eagerly. ‘There has to be something –’
‘No. Not now. I’ve got to go.’ Maddie was still shaking her head as she backed away. She knew that really she should go over and at least give her sister a hug, after all she had done for her, but she quite simply couldn’t. So instead she gave her a smile that was meant to be reassuring, but was not even close, and made herself walk slowly over to her car. Don’t run, do not run, just walk slowly as if in control. She could feel Hannah’s eyes burning into her back as she slid in, almost throwing her handbag across the seat. She started the ignition and then tugged at the seatbelt to bring it forward. It caught, so she tried again, and again. Each time tugging that little bit too abruptly, until she just wanted to rip it out. Work, goddamn it, you piece of shit. Just work. Making herself take a deep breath and hold it until it burned, and then she was able to bring the belt forward smoothly and secure it. Letting the breath out as she started to reverse, making sure she turned to give Hannah a wave. As if she was perfectly fine. Normal.
Maddie glanced in the mirror as she reached the end of the street and could still see her sister, the willow framing her within a fountain of green. She fancied she could see the concern on her face, even though she knew that was impossible, not at this distance. Nevertheless, it was with a huge surge of relief that she turned the corner and left Hannah behind. Merging instead with all the other traffic, all the other people who hadn’t just spent the day in family court having their children ripped off them. I have strong reservations about the mother’s story. Liar.
Maddie shook her head, as if that alone would clear it, and then drove. But there was nothing aimless about her direction. She turned left at the main traffic lights and headed east, down the highway, over the train tracks, and then at an angle until she reached the suburb of Mont Gully. Once there she shut down the part of her brain that wanted to pause and procrastinate and marvel at how much everything here had changed. Instead she increased her autopilot, making a series of turns until she was deep inside the estate, and parking outside a large clinker-brick house nestled in the bowl of a court.
A car was in the driveway, a bronze, late-model Holden which Maddie didn’t recognise. She stared at it for a few minutes and then at the garden, even more beautifully manicured than she remembered. She got out of her car before she could think things through, change her mind. Bile surged within her gullet, burning her chest as it tried to warn her. This is a mistake, a huge mistake. Leave now, before it’s too late. Maddie swallowed, pushing it down, and then walked steadily past the wrought-iron letterbox and up the driveway, her heels thudding against the cobblestones. All the way she kept an eye on the windows, half expecting, half hoping that a curtain would twitch and there would be either Sam or Ashley, staring out at her. With delight. Hey, look! It’s Mum! It’s really Mum!
She quickened her steps until she reached the porch and then stopped. There was a new doorbell, a white one with a sky-blue button instead of the brass one of old. She smoothed down her shirt and then reached out and pressed it, before she could delay any more.
The sound echoed within the house. She craned her ears for the sound of footsteps but when the door finally opened it did so with no heralding noise at all. Just swinging open, quite suddenly, to reveal Jake on the other side. He was still wearing his suit, with the top button of his shirt undone and his tie loosened. They stared at each other in silence, with Maddie looking the more shocked of the two, even though it had been her who had initiated the meeting.
‘Well, well, well. The errant wife. Come to help me pack, have you?’
Maddie spoke stiffly. ‘I want to see the kids. That’s all.’
Jake put his head on one side, as if considering. Then he stood back and made a grandiose ushering gesture. ‘Then come in by all means. Come in.’
Maddie hesitated for just a second and then stepped over the threshold and let Jake shut the door behind. He nodded at her, almost approvingly, and led the way to the kitchen, towards the other end of the house. It was an open-plan design, with a wide passage leading from the front door all the way to the kitchen, with rooms jutting off it. Family room, study, lounge, meals area. Exactly fifteen steps from entrance to kitchen. Maddie knew this without even having to strain for the memory, just as she knew it was four steps from one child’s room to the other, and eight steps from the main bedroom to the nearest exit, and that open-plan was only good when you never had to hide.
Maddie felt the regret of nostalgia, but only a little, as though it had been someone else who had lived here. Even though the house was almost exactly as it had been back then. Wall-to-wall cream carpeting and gold-framed prints and neutral furnishings with the occasional antique to add depth. Of course there were changes as well, but they were minor ones. Like the Margaret Olley print having been moved from the passage to the foyer, and sandstone-coloured curtains now covering the sliding door that led to the patio. And the feeling that she didn’t belong, not one little bit, and maybe she never had.
‘Where are they?’ asked Maddie, looking around as they entered the kitchen.
Instead of answering, Jake went over to the bench and picked up a bottle of wine. ‘Would you like a glass?’
‘No thank you. Where are they?’
He looked across at her and then raised an eyebrow, as if amused. ‘I do hope you’re going to be a little more neighbourly down the track. Take me, for example. Your contact isn’t until Saturday night and yet I still invited you in. It’s called making an effort.’
Maddie stared at him, her lips thin.
‘So I ask again. Glass of wine?’
She hesitated, and then nodded. ‘Just a little.’
‘Excellent.’ Jake poured wine into two spider crystal glasses and passed one over to Maddie, nodding towards the stools that lined the bench. ‘Sit down. Get a load off. It’s been a long day, hasn’t it?’
Maddie cradled the glass in one hand but didn’t sit down.
‘And you just caught me as well. About to head out, to celebrate with the family. Feel free to join us. I’m sure everyone would love to see you again. Catch up on old times.’
‘Where are the kids?’
‘You’re like a broken record, aren’t you?’ Jake grinned at her with a fondness that made Maddie’s stomach lurch, despite everything. ‘Just can’t let anything go.’
Well, I let you go, didn’t I? The words popped into Maddie’s mouth and almost slid out before she was able to swallow them. ‘They’re not actually here, are they?’
‘Good guess, Einstein.’
‘Where are they?’
‘None of your business. And after today I really can say that, you know. It is none of your business.’ Jake grinned and then laughed as if they were just good friends having a chat. ‘Hang on, that was such fun I might do it again. Wait for it . . . none of your business. God, it just doesn’t get old.’
Moving slowly, emphasising dignity, Maddie put down her glass and took a step backwards.
‘You don’t want to talk about things then?’ Jake sighed, as if disappointed but not surprised. ‘Now that it’s not going your way, you just want to bale. Is that it? No discussion at all.’
‘That depends on whether it’s going to be constructive or not.’
‘For whom?’ Jake shot back. He grinned and took a sip of wine, watching her over the rim of his glass.
Maddie stared at him. He was looking older, but it was an almost indecipherable aging, and she wondered, suddenly, whether she was the same. Or whether she was now an almost middle-aged version of the young woman who had made all those choices. She pushed the thoughts away. ‘You lied today. In court.’
‘Truth is subjective, sweetheart. You of all people should know that.’
‘Interpretation might be subjective,’ replied Maddie evenly. ‘But you flat out lied.’
Jake shrugged. ‘No point being a sore loser, Mat. It’s not a good look.’
‘Neither is lying.’
‘Enough already.’ Jake started to look irritated. ‘You snooze, you lose. Deal with it.’
Maddie continued to stare at him and then quite suddenly, with a cold flash of insight, realised that she could talk about this until she was blue in the face and it would make absolutely no difference. What she saw as one of the most frustratingly shocking parts of the day, that he was prepared to twist the truth so hugely and that the magistrate believed him, was to Jake a minor detail only. A tactic that paid dividends. All was fair in love and war.
‘And what did you expect anyway? That I was going to sit there and let you say all that crap about me and not say anything back? What sort of idiot do you think I am?’
Maddie shook her head slowly. She felt a surge of misery, like thin vomit.
‘Or that you’d be able to get up there and have everyone feel sorry for you?’ Jake snorted, and then put on an exaggerated, high-pitched whine. ‘Look at me, I’m so hard done by. Now give me everything I want.’
Maddie stared at the wineglass on the bench. She pictured herself picking it up and throwing it straight into his face. So that it would look like pale blood was leaching from his skin. Either that or she could just drink it. And then keep on drinking.
‘You’re priceless.’ Jake drained his glass and reached for the bottle to refill it. ‘I’ll say one thing though, you’re like a lioness, aren’t you? Don’t get me wrong, I’m not saying you’re a good mother. You’re not; in fact you’re crap. But boy, do you go out on a limb for those kids. I used to quite admire that, once.’ He gave a dismissive gesture, as if that was all in the past, and then gazed at her pensively. After a few moments, a half-smile stretched his lips. ‘I get it. You came here to ask them about the ICL. What they said for him to recommend they stay with me.’
