by Ilsa Evans
In the end Sam spoke first. ‘Where’ve you been?’
‘Down in Melbourne. At Auntie Hannah’s.’ She looked him over, at the cut-off windcheater that she had never seen before. ‘More new clothes?’
‘Yeah, well we only had our school stuff. Remember?’
‘Yes. Of course. Well, your sister must be thrilled. Um, she didn’t come with you?’
‘Nah, but then I didn’t tell her either. She went out with Dad to buy some stuff for the new house and I just decided I wanted to come over here. Spur of the moment sort of thing. Find out what’s going on. From you.’
‘I see. Okay. Yes, we need to talk.’
‘First though . . . anything to eat? I’m starved.’
Maddie broke into a grin, loving the familiarity of this statement. And the way it brought everything back into line. She felt like hugging him again, but restrained herself.
‘Is that a yes?’
‘Come on then.’ She turned and led the way into the kitchen. As Sam settled himself at the table, with Guess’s head in his lap, she checked the fridge. ‘How do ham and cheese toasted sandwiches sound?’
‘Great. As long as they’re not jaffles.’
‘Of course not. Do you think I’d have forgotten so quickly?’ Maddie gave him a quick grin that wanted to linger. But she tugged it away and concentrated on collecting the ingredients. ‘Have you been here long?’
‘Nah, not long.’ Sam put a hand on either side of the dog’s head and then ruffled his fingers forward, finishing with a good scratch under the chin. Guess stretched his head out blissfully and Sam grinned. ‘I think he might’ve missed me.’
‘I know he did.’ Maddie kept her back to Sam because, all of sudden, her eyes felt shiny. ‘He keeps wandering in and out of your room and then Ash’s, looking confused. I think he thinks you’re just playing a really good game of hide and seek.’
‘Poor old Guess. I missed you, fellow. I did.’
Maddie busied herself slicing cheese. She assembled the sandwiches and then put them carefully inside the electric sandwich maker, being careful not to press down too hard on the lid. She boiled the kettle and made two milky hot chocolates, bringing one over to the table for Sam.
‘Thanks, Mum.’
Maddie watched as he drank half in one prolonged gulp. ‘And now we need to talk.’
Sam put his mug down and looked up at her, nodding. He had a milk moustache that beaded the fuzz across his upper lip. ‘I want to stay here.’
Maddie passed him a piece of paper towel and then went over to the sink and washed her hands, lathering the soap between her fingers. Repeating his words to herself and letting them leach through her body, leaving joy in their wake. She shook her hands to dry them, watching the droplets arc. Like tiny, translucent fireworks.
‘I want to stay here,’ he said again, lifting Guess’s paws so that the dog stood upright, and then lowering his face to nuzzle the dog’s neck.
Maddie swallowed. On her way back across the kitchen she laid one hand briefly on Sam’s shoulder, giving it a gentle squeeze. The sandwich maker started to sizzle as the crisp, creamy smell of melted cheese filled the kitchen. Maddie slid the sandwiches out onto plates, cutting them into small triangles. She brought them over to the table, along with her mug.
‘Are they both mine?’ asked Sam, pulling one plate towards him and staring at the other.
‘If they were both yours, why would I have put them on separate plates?’
‘I dunno. Maybe because it’s the return of the prodigal son and all that?’
Maddie shook her head slowly and then laughed, despite herself. And this sound did as much to normalise the kitchen as the smell of toasted ham and cheese. She pushed her plate over. ‘There you go, prodigal son.’
Sam tried to look contrite. ‘Not if you wanted it?’
‘Doesn’t matter. I’ll make myself another one in a minute.’
‘Excellent! Then can you make me some more too?’
‘God! Is your father starving you?’
Sam shrugged. ‘Nah. But it’s not the same.’
‘Oh. Okay.’ Maddie picked up her hot chocolate and cradled it as she watched her son devour the toasted sandwiches. It seemed so amazing that he was here, right in front of her; yet at the same time it was so ordinary that the past three weeks might have been nothing but a bad dream. She fancied he had grown a little, and that the fuzz on his top lip was a little darker, and the smattering of small pimples on his chin were a little angrier. But he was here, with her. The prodigal son.
‘Were you gonna put those other sandwiches on now?’ Sam looked hopefully towards the bench as if the sandwich maker had refilled by magic.
‘In a bit. First we need to talk.’
Sam nodded as he picked up his last triangle and, with one mouthful, took all but the crust. He used this to wipe a fat slither of melted cheese off his plate.
‘Did your father tell you about Tuesday? The court case?’
Sam nodded again, chewing.
‘That he won custody of you both? And I’m only allowed to have weekends?’
Sam swallowed. ‘Yep.’
‘Well, what did he say? Exactly?’
‘Just that we’d still see you, but . . .’ Sam paused briefly. ‘Not enough for you to brainwash us any more. That it was his turn now. It was justice.’ He paused again and then, when he spoke, it was with the voice of an eight year old. ‘But that’s not fair! What about what I want? How come I don’t get a say?’
Maddie stared. ‘What did you say to the lawyer from the court?’
‘Who?’
‘Your lawyer. The independent children’s lawyer.’ Maddie felt a rush of irritation as Sam’s face remained blank. ‘An older guy. Grey hair, a little stooped. Um . . . Washington, that was his name. You must have seen him at some stage.’
‘There was a guy who spoke to us on the phone. I think his name was Wash something or other.’
‘He rang? He didn’t see you?’
‘Nah, just rang up and spoke to us for a while. It was a bit weird actually because Dad was in the room listening.’
‘I don’t believe this,’ Maddie frowned. ‘Are you saying he rang you at your father’s house and just spoke to you on the phone?’ She waited for Sam to nod and then tried to absorb the information. But it jarred, hugely, and flooded her with fury.
‘Not for that long,’ added Sam, as if this helped. ‘Just about school and Dad and stuff.’
Maddie spoke through gritted teeth. ‘And Ashley too?’
‘Her for even longer. But that was only coz she knew Dad was listening so she was sucking up to him.’ Sam paused, chewing his lip. Then he stared across at his mother. ‘Is that why we have to live with Dad now? Because of what we – she – said?’
Maddie wanted to shout, Yes, yes of course you pair of bloody fools, but instead she swallowed the words and waited until they were well gone before she spoke. The fury was harder to push aside, leaching through to tremble alongside each nuance. ‘No, not really. Because there were probably lots of different reasons. That is, I don’t think it helped, but then there were a few things I did that maybe didn’t help either.’
‘Dad said your lawyer sucked shit.’
‘How eloquent of him.’
Sam dipped a finger into his hot chocolate and then sucked it. ‘Can you get a new lawyer?’
‘Yes.’ Maddie’s mind was still whirling with the ICL, who hadn’t even met the children face to face, and had discussed their preferences whilst their father was right there, beside them. She made a supreme effort to adjourn him till later. ‘Tell me about the new house.’
‘You mean Dad’s?’ Sam waited for her to nod. ‘It’s okay. Nothing flash. But it’s got a nice outdoor bit, with a spa.’
‘How far from school?’
‘Bit closer than here. Not much though.’
‘And you’re all moved in now?’
‘I suppose.’ Sam glanced at Maddie and then back t
owards his drink. ‘That Natalie did most of it. She came back from Seaworld early.’
‘I see.’ Maddie blinked, erasing the image of Natalie playing house. She tried to clear her mind, to prioritise, but there was too much jockeying for position. She reverted to action. ‘How about those toasted sandwiches, hey?’
‘Excellent!’
Maddie pushed herself to her feet, feeling like an old lady, and then began assembling another set of sandwiches, putting them on to toast. Letting her mind settle on information for a moment or so and then glance off once more. Sam being here, the ICL, Jake being nearby, Natalie by his side. She turned and leant against the bench, watching her son scratch Guess’s head while the dog pushed upward, into his hand. ‘What’s she like? Natalie.’
Sam glanced across without expression. ‘She’s all right, I suppose.’
‘Are they . . . happy?’
‘Dunno.’ He looked down at the dog and then up again fleetingly. ‘They fight sometimes.’
Maddie stared at him. ‘In what way?’
‘Just yelling and stuff.’
‘Oh.’ The word came out like a sigh, as if disappointed. ‘In front of you?’
‘Nah, not much. Mostly after we’ve gone to bed. And not all the time. Just sometimes.’
‘Oh,’ Maddie searched for a tangent. ‘Why haven’t you rung?’
‘I couldn’t. Sorry about that. My phone ran out of charge at Seaworld.’
‘What about your sister’s phone? The new one your father bought her?’
‘She’s not getting that till the end of this week. To celebrate or something. And I don’t like using Dad’s phone because, well . . .’ Sam ran a finger around the inside of his mug and stared down at the froth clinging to his skin. ‘He makes you feel sort of stupid. Like when I ask he goes “sure thing” but then always says something teasing about me being a baby who needs his mummy.’ He used his finger to trace froth on the table. ‘And it’s sort of embarrassing.’
‘I see.’
‘I did try to ring on Friday.’ Sam glanced up, as if seeking praise. ‘Ash as well. Dad was outside with Natalie so we grabbed the phone. But you weren’t home.’
‘It’s okay,’ Maddie smiled, rather flatly. ‘I know it’s not easy.’ She turned again and slid the finished sandwiches onto a plate, bringing them over to the table.
‘Thanks, Mum.’
The phone rang before Maddie could sit down and she considered, for a moment, letting the call go straight through to the answering machine. But couldn’t quite bring herself to do so, not while she still had one child absent.
‘Hello?’
‘You have exactly five minutes to send him out here,’ said Jake in a voice that clipped the words with rigid anger. As if each had a full stop to itself. ‘Otherwise I’m calling the police.’
‘Hang on, I –’
‘Five minutes.’
The dial tone sounded and Maddie put the phone down slowly. Her stomach hollowed again and she felt the hot chocolate bubbling into bile. She glanced over at the clock only to acknowledge what she already knew – six o’clock on the dot. Then, without even looking in Sam’s direction, she went into the lounge room and up to the curtains, pulling them back slightly on one side. And there he was, by the kerb, the bronze Holden spot-lit by the setting sun. Maddie was suddenly conscious of Sam, standing right behind her.
‘Dad’s here?’
She nodded, unable to speak.
‘Do I have to go?’
And for a moment he was little again, staring at her with those thick-lashed dark eyes that understood far too much and far too little. She swallowed.
‘I don’t want to live with him.’
Maddie found her voice but it came out hoarse, as if overused. ‘This won’t be for much longer. I promise. I’m working on it. Getting a new lawyer. I’ll get you both back as soon as I can. I will, I really will. Trust me. Please.’
‘What’ll happen if I don’t go? They can’t make me.’
Maddie closed her eyes, for just a second. ‘Actually yes, I think they can.’
‘That’s not fair.’
‘I know.’
He stared at her for a few long minutes, as the deadline ticked closer, as if expecting that at any moment she would suddenly smile and say, It’s okay, Sam, I won’t make you do anything you don’t want to. You just stay here. I’ll take care of everything.
‘So I have to go?’
Maddie reached out, touched him on the shoulder. ‘Sam, how bad is it? I mean, you seemed to be enjoying yourself last time we spoke. So is it that you’d rather be here, or is he being . . .’
‘No, nothing like that,’ Sam shrugged. ‘I just want to be here, that’s all.’
‘Then . . . can you be patient for a little while? Let me try and sort this out?’
‘I suppose.’
Maddie glanced towards the window again, automatically. Nervously. More than anything else she dreaded seeing the car door open.
‘I’ll get my phone charger.’
‘Good idea. Do you need anything else? School clothes? Anything?’ She took a step forward but Sam was shaking his head as he left the room, Guess trotting along at his heels. He was back within seconds, the charger swinging from one hand like a pendulum. He paused just inside the doorway and looked at her levelly.
‘Sam, I really –’ Maddie took another step.
‘No.’ Sam held up one hand, stopping her. ‘Don’t, Mum. Please. I’ll see you soon. Okay?’
‘Okay.’ She suddenly saw, quite clearly, the man he would become. But it was only a brief glimpse and as he turned to leave he was a boy once more. And she bled for him, and for herself. A raw, open wound that festered with guilt.
Jake honked, out by the kerb, and Sam quickened his step and was gone, the back door slamming in his wake. Maddie turned quickly to pull the curtain back again, this time not caring if she was seen or not, staring out the window as her son walked across the thick grass towards his father’s car. He bent to open the passenger side door and then remained like that for a few moments, as if in conversation. Finally he slid into the car, without glancing towards the house or the window or her. From the other side of the car Jake suddenly extended his arm, with his hand clenched into a fist which unfolded to jab one finger up into the air. Remaining there, as a one-fingered salute, while he revved the car noisily. Waiting until Sam’s door had barely closed before taking off, with his foot so hard down on the accelerator that the car actually screeched in protest, spewing smoke and leaving black rubber tracks on the road as it shot forward. A show of strength, not too far removed from a gorilla beating its chest.
Maddie stayed where she was for a while, listening to the engine as it faded into the distance, watching the smoke dissipate, unable to move. Gut-shot with guilt, but also with frustration. And it felt like that finger was actually stabbing at her, leaving a myriad of blotchy blue angry bruises in its wake. She knew she was crying, had been since the back door had slammed, and this just made her feel even more furious. With everything, especially herself. Yet gut-wrenchingly despondent also, at the same time.
If there had been any doubt remaining, the finger clearly demonstrated how little he had changed. Which meant that his parenting hadn’t changed either. He would still be selfish, and volatile, lurching between permissiveness and strict authoritarianism depending on his mood. With a lack of empathy, or even interest, unless it suited. He loved his children, of that she was sure, because the alternative was unthinkable. But it was a deeply egocentric love that prioritised him, and his needs. And now they were teenagers, no longer as malleable as they had once been, and he had them legally, five days a week.
But she had given them a childhood. The moment this thought wafted into the quagmire, everything else stilled. It was like a sedative, soothing until gradually Maddie’s fists unclenched. Lyn was right, because that childhood was something that could not be taken away. And something that would hopefully stand them in good s
tead over the coming months. She took a deep, even breath and then rubbed her arm, hard, using the pain to propel herself into movement. Walking slowly into the kitchen and staring at Guess, still standing by the back-door as if expecting Sam to suddenly re-enter. The dog’s tail started sweeping the floor the moment he saw her and he glanced up at the door and back, tongue lolling.
‘He’s gone, you know,’ said Maddie conversationally as she opened the back door. Guess went shooting through, off the porch in a single leap, and around the side of the house. Maddie let the screen door close behind her as she turned. Facing the kitchen table, with Sam’s abandoned mug and plate. Expecting another wave of heated anguish but instead suddenly, amazingly, breaking into a smile. Because the plate was empty.
And the image of her son, sodden with misery, being forced into the role of sacrificial lamb, was instantly replaced, or at least enlarged, by him taking the time to collect his uneaten toasted sandwiches on the way out. The adolescent single-mindedness of this act somehow lessened her guilt, her culpability. She thought of what she had just said to Sam, by the window. To trust her, give her some time to work things out. That she would get them back. And then, like the next frame in a slideshow with a singular theme, she saw herself, quite clearly, lying in the pathway outside the Mont Gully house, staring up towards Jake with that fatalistic calmness. I’ll get them back you know. It might take me a while but I’ll get them back.
Maddie realised that she was muttering the words underneath her breath. ‘I’ll get them back.’ It sounded like a litany and then a vow; and her smile widened with the ridiculous Gone With The Wind style melodrama of the moment. But at the same time she was flooded with a vigorous certainty that seemed to mushroom warmly from within. She would get them back because he hadn’t changed. Couldn’t change. He would be his own downfall, it was inevitable. And the fact that it was all about him had a delicious irony that kept her smile in place. All she had to do was be patient and vigilant. Because that finger was just a precursor, a portent; sooner or later his true colours would burst through and she would be vindicated.
