by Fiona Lowe
Edwina nodded her confirmation as she continued to make soothing sounds and stroke Charlotte’s hair. Harriet felt hypnotised, her gaze held tight by the uncommon sight of her mother’s display of affection and love. She had no memories of Edwina ever soothing or consoling her like this as a child. Nor as an adult. God, even this week when everything had imploded, Edwina hadn’t hugged her. Hugging had been her father’s domain but he was no longer here to take care of her.
As Harriet watched Edwina kiss the top of Charlotte’s head, the almighty gulf that existed between her and her mother widened to an unbreachable distance. An excruciating feeling of abject isolation hit her, buckling her knees. She slumped on the bed, dropped her head into her hands and gave herself over to the sobs she’d held at bay for a week.
CHAPTER
14
Xara ignored the mess she was making in Glenora’s kitchen and focused instead on flipping pancakes, baking bacon in the oven and scrambling eggs. She also made a pot of ginger and lemon tea and a rack of toast for Charlotte, remembering how sick she’d been every morning when she was pregnant with the twins. The atmosphere at breakfast would be strained and fraught but at least there’d be food. Lots and lots of food.
Georgie’s distraught phone call had woken Xara around one that morning. By the time she’d hung up the phone, Steve had been wide awake and staring at her with a worried expression. ‘Someone sick? Hurt? What?’
Still stunned and trying to absorb the news, she’d said, ‘It was Georgie. Charlie’s pregnant.’
‘Crikey.’ He’d looked as flabbergasted as she felt. ‘That’s … unexpected. Harriet’s going to go mental.’
‘According to Georgie, she already has. God, what is going on with this family?’ A crazy sort of laugh had burst out of her.
‘What’s so funny?’
She’d opened her mouth to tell him but every time she tried, another rip of laughter had shot out of her. Absolutely nothing about Charlotte being pregnant or one single thing that James had done was remotely funny but the harder she’d tried to stop laughing the worse it had got. Tears had formed and trickled down her cheeks, the salty taste registering on her lips before dripping off her chin. Her ribs had ached and strained as if she’d just run five kilometres.
Steve had looked baffled but he didn’t say anything. Instead, he’d pulled her down, wrapped his arms around her and snuggled in close as if she was cold and needing to be warmed up. It had only been when her head spun dizzily and she was panting for breath that she’d finally managed to get herself under control.
‘Steve?’
‘Hmm?’
She’d rolled over to face him. ‘Do you realise that for the first time ever, our branch of the family with its accompanying chaos is actually looking the most functional?’
He’d laughed and kissed the top of her head. ‘That’s pretty bloody scary.’
‘Tell me about it.’ Her mind had raced with logistics, trying to come up with the best way she could help. ‘I really need to go to Glenora first thing.’
‘Xara to the rescue?’
‘More like protecting everyone from Harriet. Can you deal with the kids in the morning?’
‘Sure. They can come out in the ute while I check the stock. Tashie loves that. And we’ll go fishing for our Good Friday dinner.’
‘I already bought fresh salmon.’
‘Are you doubting our ability to catch enough fish to feed us all for dinner?’
She snorted. ‘I’m doubting you can catch a fish full stop, let alone enough fish.’
‘For that lack of faith, I’ll have to teach you a lesson.’
His hands had shot out and tickled her aching ribs. She’d let out a token squeal of protest before letting him pull her over and then under him. As she’d welcomed the reassuring weight of him against her, her mouth met his and she’d given heartfelt thanks for having him in her life and on her side.
She’d left the farm before the kids had woken and called into the bakery for fresh hot cross buns. With breakfast almost ready, she surveyed the kitchen table and added muesli, skim milk and yoghurt so Harriet couldn’t complain there was nothing she ate and use that as an excuse to leave. Satisfied she’d thought of everything, Xara walked to the bedroom wing and started opening doors.
‘Breakfast is ready and the dress code is pyjamas.’
‘Go away, Xara,’ Harriet said curtly before rolling away from her.
‘No.’ She threw open the curtains and sunshine streamed into the room unrelenting and squintingly bright. She picked up what Harriet called her ‘post-exercise cool-down pants’ and everyone else called trackies, scrunched them into a ball and threw them at her sister’s head. ‘Put these on.’
‘No.’
Years of being Harriet’s sister had taught her that soothing and sympathy rarely worked with her and today wasn’t the day to start. ‘I have no hesitation in getting a bucket of cold water like I did that time in Apollo Bay. Remember?’
‘Grow up, Xara.’
She thought about Harriet’s week. ‘Sometimes being grown up sucks, Harry.’ She pulled back the sheets until they completely fell off the bed and Harriet shivered. ‘See you in the kitchen.’
Xara found Charlotte already awake and hugging the toilet bowl. ‘I’ve got ginger tea and toast waiting for you in the kitchen, possum. Wash your face and come through.’
‘Is Mum up?’
Xara heard her niece’s apprehension. ‘It’s a Chirnwell women’s breakfast. All five of us.’ She reached out a hand. ‘Hop up, wash your face and come to the kitchen.’
The next door was Georgie’s. She was sitting up in bed, reading.
‘Family breakfast, baby sis.’
‘Xar!’ Georgie shot out of bed and hugged her. ‘Thanks for coming. I know I should be understanding and supportive and I’m trying but—’ Her voice cracked. ‘God, Xara. A baby.’
Xara hugged her back, remembering Georgie’s tiny baby and feeling the old weight of grief and loss she always carried with her for the child Tasha might have been. ‘I know it’s hard but I really need you at breakfast. I cooked you crispy bacon.’
Georgie gave her a hangdog look. ‘That’s dirty pool, Xar.’
She grinned. ‘Whatever it takes.’
Xara made her way to the front of the house only to find her mother’s room empty and her bed neatly made. As she returned to the kitchen, Edwina strolled in from the garden. ‘Morning, Mum. Big night I hear.’
‘Hello, darling.’ Edwina was dressed in her gardening clothes but instead of holding her gloves, she was clutching her mobile phone. She gave Xara an absent kiss on the cheek. ‘Do I smell coffee?’
‘And the rest.’ Xara pulled plates from the plate warmer. ‘I thought you all needed a hearty breakfast.’
‘Very thoughtful.’ Her mother gave a faint smile and sat down. ‘I haven’t had pancakes in years.’
Xara recognised her mother’s coping mechanism—polite and insignificant chitchat—so she stuck to the superficial. ‘Try them with Nutella. It’s the twins’ favourite.’
Harriet strode in wearing a thunderous expression. She scraped a chair nosily over the slate as she took a seat opposite her mother, silently pouring muesli into a bowl.
‘Latte, Harry?’ Xara asked, switching on the coffee machine.
Her sister threw her a mutinous look and Xara braced for an acerbic serve but then Harriet’s shoulders slumped. ‘I want to say no, but coffee’s essential this morning. Make it an espresso.’
Georgie arrived with Charlotte, who eyed her mother with a mixture of anxiety and distrust then said, ‘Morning, Mardi.’ She gave a quick nod to Harriet. ‘Mum.’ She took the seat next to her grandmother.
Georgie passed Charlotte the toast and poured her a mug of tea. ‘Breathe in the aroma of the ginger to lessen the smell of coffee.’
‘Thanks.’ Charlotte shot her aunt a grateful smile.
Xara made coffees to order and let the others eat before
she finally sat down and helped herself to some crispy bacon. ‘So,’ she said as much as a call to order as to give herself time to think. The natural thing to say when someone was pregnant was ‘congratulations’ but in this situation and at this point when everything was up in the air, good wishes would be starkly out of place. She gave her niece an encouraging smile instead. ‘Charlie, you’re pregnant and Georgie tells me you’ve known for a month. I guess you’ve been doing a lot of thinking. What are your plans?’
Charlotte’s eyes widened in surprise as if the question wasn’t one she’d been expecting. She licked her lips and said softly, ‘I want to keep the baby.’
Harriet sucked in a breath so fast it hissed loudly between gritted teeth. ‘That is not going to happen.’
Two bright pink spots burned on Charlotte’s cheeks. ‘You can’t make me get rid of it.’
‘You can’t make me take care of it.’ Harriet’s tone could cut glass.
‘Do you know when the baby’s due?’ Xara interceded. She wanted the conversation to be useful, not to degenerate into a slinging match from the second sentence.
‘The middle of November.’
‘Oh, now that is spectacular planning, Charlotte,’ Harriet said. ‘How convenient that your baby’s due right in the middle of your Year 12 exams.’
Charlotte’s knuckles whitened on the handle of her tea mug. ‘I know it’s not perfect—’
‘Perfect!’ Harriet yelled, her arms flying out wide. ‘Nothing about this is perfect. It’s all a fucking mess.’
‘Harriet!’ Edwina’s voice cut in with the same tone she’d used when her eldest daughter was fourteen and swearing. ‘Obviously Charlie being pregnant isn’t ideal but we need to discuss this calmly.’
‘Calmly?’ Harriet’s head snapped around so fast there was an audible click. ‘My daughter’s planning to ruin her life and you want me to be calm? Jesus, Edwina! How can I be calm?’ She pointed the butter knife accusingly at her mother. ‘And why are you so calm? After all, you’re the one who taught me all about family duty, responsibility and social standing. Exactly how does having a seventeen-year-old pregnant granddaughter fit in with all that? Or has spending time with this Doug, with his blue-collar accent, suddenly changed a lifetime of beliefs?’
Edwina flinched and the colour drained from her face, making her appear haggard.
Xara gently pressed her hand against Harriet’s arm, lowering the butter knife to the table. ‘Leave Doug out of this, Harry.’
‘One of the things besides money that’s always elevated the Mannerings above the hoi polloi is that we don’t get knocked up.’ Harriet didn’t take her eyes off Edwina or pause for breath. ‘We don’t have teenage pregnancies and we don’t have unmarried mothers. We’re scandal free and yet in one week my husband and my daughter have managed to destroy everything we stand for. So no, Edwina, I can’t be calm. Nothing about this situation even hints at calm.’
Ripping open a hot cross bun, Harriet hacked at the butter with the knife. ‘Tell me, Charlotte, if you keep this baby, where are you going to live?’ The silver knife flashed back and forth against the bun. ‘How are you going to pay the rent? How are you going to finish school? Get a decent job so you can raise this child?’
Xara felt battered by the barrage of questions and they weren’t even directed at her. She poured Charlotte more tea.
‘I don’t know yet,’ Charlotte said miserably. ‘I was hoping you’d support me like you’re planning to next year.’
‘That was when you were going to university to become a doctor!’
‘I have my trust fund.’
‘Not any more you don’t. Your father raided that too.’
Georgie raised her head from her intense study of the peony rose botanical painting on her plate. ‘You can live with me, Charlie. I can work part-time and that way you can finish school and go to uni. We can bring up the baby together.’ She got a faraway look in her eyes. ‘I’ll be great Auntie G.’
Xara frowned but before she could formulate her worried thoughts into words, Edwina said quietly, ‘It’s Charlie’s baby, Georgina.’
‘Bloody hell. I’m only trying to help.’ Georgie’s chin jutted. ‘I know the baby is Charlie’s, Mum. But it sounds like Harriet’s kicking her out of home, so living with me makes sense. And I’m the one who lives in Melbourne where the universities are. It’s a viable option.’
‘Thank you, Auntie G. I appreciate the offer,’ Charlotte said but her gaze remained on her mother. She had a new and calculating glint in her eyes. ‘Dad will let me live with him.’
‘In jail?’ Harriet said icily. ‘How lovely for you and your baby.’
Charlotte blinked rapidly but her shoulders remained set. ‘I’m doing this with or without your support, Mum.’
‘Charlotte.’ Harriet said her daughter’s name with a quiet sigh and then continued speaking but without the piercing criticism. ‘The timing’s all wrong. You’re in your final year of high school and none of your plans included being pregnant. Your plans are to get the highest ATAR score you possibly can, go to university and study medicine. None of that has to change.’ Her voice started to creep up in register. ‘What I don’t understand is that even though you’re not in a relationship with the father, you’re preparing to have a child who will grow up feeling that loss all of its life.’
‘I’m going to tell Hamish about the baby. He might want to be involved,’ Charlotte said almost too quickly. ‘His parents might, like, um, you know …’
Xara exchanged a quick look with Georgie. The naiveté of the remark was certain to rupture Harriet’s barely leashed control.
‘Charlie, honey. Jason and I broke up because he didn’t want another baby.’ Georgie’s voice wavered. ‘To be honest, he didn’t really want Eliza. We’d been together a long time and we loved each other but it wasn’t enough. The chances of your party hook-up guy wanting to be a dad or supporting you are almost nonexistent.’
Harriet looked as if she wanted to kiss Georgie. ‘Charlotte, this cluster of cells inside you is a mistake. It’s a mistake that will cost you your dreams. Don’t let one mistake stain your life forever.’
Charlotte shook her head so hard that strands of her long blonde hair flew out behind her. ‘Mum, you’re the one who wants me to be a doctor, not me. I’m not sure what I want to do. I’ve been thinking about teaching like Auntie Georgie or doing early childhood development. The one thing I do know is that I love being with kids.’
‘A baby is not a doll,’ Harriet said thickly. ‘It’s not something you can play with and put down when you’ve had enough. It’s not like taking care of other people’s children and getting to walk away at the end of the day.’
‘I know that.’
‘Do you really?’ Harriet pierced some bacon with a fork. ‘I don’t think you do.’
‘Yes! I do.’ Charlotte’s spine straightened. ‘While you’ve been working, I’ve spent heaps of time on the farm with Xara and Steve. I’ve watched them with Tashie. I’ve helped them look after her and I’ve spent hours playing with the twins.’
‘But you haven’t been responsible for them. Being a mother is the hardest job you’ll ever do.’ Harriet looked around the table, imploring Xara to chime in. ‘Tell her!’
‘It’s tough, Charlie,’ Xara said honestly, knowing today wasn’t the time for sugar coating. Whatever decision Charlotte made, she wanted her to make it with the full facts in front of her. ‘There’s no time for you to do the stuff you take for granted now like playing computer games, watching movies, just hanging out with friends, riding your horse or going to parties.’
‘If it’s so hard then why did you have the twins after Tashie?’
Oh, God. Her niece was as sharp as a tack. ‘I love kids. Steve and I both have siblings and we always planned to have at least two. Stopping after Tashie might have been practical but nothing about the decision to have children is practical. It’s biological and emotional and probably a little bit irration
al …’ She caught Harriet’s fury coming at her like a flame thrower. ‘But, Charlie—and this is a big but—I have Steve. We’re a team. There’s no way I could do what I do without Steve’s love and support. It’s going to be very tough for you on your own even with a healthy child.’
‘Did you hear that, Charlotte?’ Harriet’s tone held a triumphant edge. ‘It’s tough being a mother even when you have a partner. Which you don’t. Having a termination is the only sensible thing to do.’
Charlotte’s nostril’s flared and her lips thinned in a tight line. For the briefest of moments she looked exactly as Harriet had at seventeen: tenacious and determined. ‘I know me getting pregnant is a horrible shock for you, Mum, but I’ve had four weeks to think about it. It’s all I’ve been able to think about. I’ve spent weeks being petrified, worried about how I’ll manage with a baby. But none of that fear comes close to the panic I get when I think about having an abortion.’
She laced her fingers, the action speaking volumes. ‘This time, Mum, I won’t let you push me around. This time, I’m not allowing you to make the decision for me. I’m sorry you’re not happy but I’m having this baby.’
Xara marvelled at Charlotte’s eloquence and wondered if she was more mature than any of them had given her credit for.
‘God, I’ve raised a spoilt princess.’ Harriet’s hands made fists so tight that her knuckles shone translucent. ‘You, young lady, have no idea what you’re doing. I refuse to let you ruin your potential and destroy your life. You are getting rid of this baby.’
‘Harriet,’ Edwina said in an ominous tone that rumbled in the room with the foreboding of thunder. ‘This is not your decision.’
Startled, Xara stared at her mother. Edwina rarely stood up to Harriet. In fact, she rarely stood up to anyone or for anyone, including herself.
Harriet blinked, momentarily nonplussed. ‘You do realise, Edwina, this will not only ruin Charlotte’s life, it means you’ll be the grandmother of a single mother. The great-grandmother of a bastard?’ She shook her head as though trying to make sense of what her mother had said. ‘And this from the woman who was considered one half of the moral compass of this town for decades. Someone people have looked up to. Think about it! Think about what Dad would have said.’
