The sound of Matthew’s boots stomping down the corridor towards them ended their conversation. ‘Dad, we need to go. I want to warm up with you before I warm up with the team.’
Courtney tapped David on the bottom. ‘You heard the star. Get a move on. I’ll see you soon.’ Courtney kissed the top of Matthew’s head. ‘Good luck, my soccer stud. I’ll be there at half-time, I promise.’
‘Don’t be later than that, okay? Can you imagine if the scout likes me? Do you think he’ll pull me aside at half-time? Do you think he’ll even talk to me? Maybe he won’t watch the entire game, so Coach Flanagen better keep me on the whole time. I hope I’m good enough, Mom,’ he said looking up at her, his eyes glinting.
‘You’ll be brilliant. You’ll blow him away,’ Courtney said.
Matthew gave an enormous grin. ‘This is going to be the best day of my life.’
Thirty minutes later Courtney was standing at the podium in the gallery looking out at a sea of faces. A vein in her head throbbed, her palms were damp and she had to hide her shaking hands behind the lectern. She felt sick, afraid that when she opened her mouth to speak, no words would come out. She waited for the last in the crowd to draw back from the paintings and gather near the podium. The chatter began to die down, giving way to uneasy silence.
‘Thank you all for coming,’ she said. ‘This is no ordinary art exhibition. You cannot walk through this exhibition and tell me at the end of it that Gabriela has mastered a single art form.’ There was a murmur in the audience. She looked directly at Gabriela, who sat in the front row, her eyes focused squarely on Courtney. She wore a simple blood-orange dress with thin straps that exposed her tanned shoulders and lean, toned figure. ‘You will see,’ Courtney continued, ‘that she has mastered them all.’ With each word, Courtney’s breath began to even and her voice steadied. ‘Gabriela is one of those rare artists who can pick up any medium and make magic happen. You may never have heard her name before today but let me tell you, after you walk around this gallery, you will never forget it.’
People in the audience glanced at Gabriela but remained deathly quiet, as if they too were enthralled by this striking young artist. ‘In this vast body of work, Gabriela shows her fascination with the four elements: earth, wind, fire and water. As she herself describes them: “The fuel of life. The ammunition of death. The beautiful and destructive forces of nature.” In all her works, we see how the beauty in nature can be deceptive – how it can lift us up and then tear us down. So, today it is with great pleasure and privilege that I open The Elements. I’d now like to call upon the artist herself, Gabriela Fresca.’
Courtney took a huge breath as the audience applauded. She smiled at Gabriela, who seemed composed, as always.
The audience went quiet again as Gabriela walked up to the podium. Courtney stood at the back and listened as the artist began to speak.
‘Thank you all for coming today to the opening of my first exhibition. Art is in my blood. It’s my air. It’s how I breathe. It’s what I see when I sleep. It’s the shade in which I make sense of the world. It’s the pulse I feel running through me every second of my life. I couldn’t live without it. It’s indelible. My ink and my purpose.’
She had no notes, no cards. She spoke like she painted, from a place of passion.
As Gabriela continued and grew more impassioned, Courtney chose her moment to make a quiet exit. She’d be back in the gallery in an hour and no one would know she’d ever left. Being a career woman had always been a priority to Courtney, but being a mother trumped everything.
David was sitting in the stands with nerves in his stomach as if he were the one on the field playing for the chance of a soccer career. He had to remind himself that his son was just a child and this game wouldn’t make or break the rest of his life. Matthew was playing better than ever. He’d already scored two goals and made a goal-saving tackle. David looked around the stands, trying to see if he could make out the scout. But everyone watching the game looked like ordinary parents.
He glanced down at his phone to check the time. The first half was about to end and Courtney would arrive soon. Ordinarily, he would have been at her exhibition launch but with Matthew’s game on, it was just impossible. As he was about to put his phone back in his pocket, he saw an unfamiliar landline calling. Instinct told him to answer.
‘David, it’s Doctor Anderson. I’m sorry to call you on a Saturday but I know how agonising the waiting is. And we just got the results.’
David drew his breath. A moment ago, Matthew’s results had been the furthest thing from his mind. All he was thinking about was Matthew’s future and entertaining wild ideas of his son’s professional soccer career. So when he heard the doctor’s neutral tone on the phone, a sense of unease rose within him.
‘You got the results,’ David whispered. Surely if the doctor was ringing him on a Saturday it was good news. He was calling to tell them to stop worrying.
‘Have I got you at a bad time?’ The doctor asked as the spectators broke into cheers when Matthew scored another goal. A hat-trick. If the academy scout was watching, there was no doubt in David’s mind that he would be suitably impressed.
‘I’m at my son’s soccer game,’ David said as the whistle went for half-time. He ducked out of the stands to the back. ‘I can hear you better now. Sorry about that.’
‘David, I only stopped into the hospital today to check on one of my patients. I don’t usually make these phone calls on the weekend, but my patients are important to me. And I wanted to tell you as soon as I saw the results.’ He paused and David started to detect the doctor tricks he used – tiptoeing around before he delivered bad news. ‘I’m afraid it’s not good news. The results point to acute lymphoblastic leukaemia.’
All at once, David was dizzy and nauseated. His cheeks grew hot. ‘Are you sure?’ he asked. ‘That can’t be right.’
‘It is, David. I’m so sorry. But we will do everything we can to get him better. Can you come in first thing Monday morning and I will go through his treatment options?’
David’s heart felt like it was being squeezed in a vice. ‘Of course,’ was all he was able to reply. The phone was heavy in his hand. As he hung up, he turned to see Courtney walking towards him, a huge smile on her face. She kissed his cheek, and he stood numbly as she hugged him.
‘I did it,’ she said triumphantly. ‘The speech went so well. The nerves went away and the turnout was fantastic. I can’t believe I made it here in time. What a mad rush.’ She looked onto the field where Matthew was huddled with his teammates, talking strategy. He was beaming. All the players in his team were patting him on the back and high-fiving him. Even Coach Flanagen looked pleased. ‘I’m guessing it’s been a good game,’ Courtney said, turning her attention back to David.
It was only then that she registered the pained expression on her husband’s face. ‘Sweetheart, your hands are trembling,’ she said, shocked. ‘What’s wrong?’
David leaned against the stands, his legs suddenly jelly.
‘Courtney. The doctor called.’
Before she could reply, the spectators started to clap as the teams ran back onto the field. Matthew was looking to the stands and smiled broadly when he spotted them. His eyes were wide and gleaming, his expression so innocent.
David turned back to Courtney and, with his next sentence, everything changed.
19
BEFORE Jade could count to ten, she could name olive varieties. Azapi, koroneiki, manzanillo, nabtamri, sevillino, verdale, volos. Her grandmother would repeat the words to her over and over again, until she could recognise the difference between them. Picholine, these are small French green olives, YiaYia would teach her. And these are Greek olives, Kalamata. They are deep purple and almond-shaped.
In all of Jade’s childhood memories, her mother was a passing shadow. Never in the foreground, always just out of reach. Jade wondered if her mother knew about the fires. She had always claimed to have such an affinity to the l
and that it would summon her back. The groves need me, she would say when she turned up suddenly after a few months’ absence. I need you, Jade would think, but she would never dare admit it aloud. Just having her mother home was enough, no matter what her reason for returning. And unless Asha was dead, Jade was sure her mother had to know that there was nothing left this time to call her back.
Jade had slept in later than she had in days and she woke to a quiet cabin. She looked out the window to see their ute gone. Suddenly she craved tangible proof that her mother had existed, so she rifled around her father’s room trying to find the two photos he had taken before the fires. With so few possessions left, it didn’t take long before she found the photos in the first drawer of the bedside table.
She pulled out the one that had been in the frame: her parents on their wedding day. Her mother was wearing a bohemian ivory-coloured gown, off the shoulders, with a lace ruffle trim that showed off her slim ballerina’s physique. Her hair was out and crimped, with a garland of baby’s breath. She looked ethereal. They were cutting into their bridal cake and they both held the knife to the icing, their eyes locked on each other, a mirrored look of pure happiness.
Jade then retrieved the other, hidden photo. In it her parents stood in front of the olive grove. Her father had his hands over Asha’s heavily pregnant stomach. He was looking at her with a wide smile, his eyes crinkled at the corners with an expression of bliss on his face that Jade hadn’t seen for a long time. Her mother’s eyes gazed forward directly into the photographer’s lens. Jade ran her fingers over the smooth surface of the glossy paper, surprised at how young her parents looked. She placed the photo back in the drawer but as she turned it facedown she saw the date stamped onto the back and caught her breath. 1978.
Almost ten years before she was born. She dropped the photo, an unsettling feeling coming over her, as if she had stumbled upon something she should never have seen. How had she never come across this photo before? Is this why she had always felt as if her life had been crafted out of secrets? She knocked anxiously on her grandmother’s bedroom door. There was no reply, so she pushed the door open to find the bed neatly made.
She passed the fridge and found a note tacked to it. Didn’t want to wake you. At the pub.
Jade dressed quickly, disturbed by what she had discovered. She threw on a grey T-shirt and a pair of jeans she’d taken home from the donated clothes collection. She left the cabin and walked hastily, struggling to keep herself from running to the pub.
When she got to there, she went straight to the kitchen and found her grandmother rolling dough. ‘YiaYia,’ Jade said with a tone of urgency she couldn’t keep out her voice, ‘can I talk to you outside?’
Helena wiped her hands on her apron and looked at Jade with concern. ‘What is it, agapi mou? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.’
When they were in the quiet street, Jade pulled the photo from her pocket. She couldn’t keep the anger from her voice. ‘YiaYia, this photo was taken in 1978, so it couldn’t have been me she was pregnant with. What happened to the baby? Why has everyone kept this a secret from me?’
Helena was suddenly stilled into silence. Jade had never seen her grandmother look so pale. The colour of flour. Helena held the photo in her trembling hands and took a deep breath. It seemed like minutes passed before she answered.
‘They lost the baby,’ her grandmother said softly. She looked down at the asphalt as if the memory were still vivid.
Jade’s heart sank. Her mother had to have been at least six months’ pregnant in the photo. As she saw tears form in her grandmother’s eyes, Jade’s mind raced. Was it a late miscarriage? A stillbirth? Did the baby die shortly after birth? She couldn’t imagine the kind of grief they had experienced, and it suddenly explained so much. Maybe this was the reason for her father’s periods of melancholy and why her parents had always seized up when she had spoken of wanting a sibling. Had it taken them another ten years of trying before Jade was conceived?
‘Sorry, YiaYia,’ Jade whispered. ‘I should never have asked.’
Her grandmother’s face was full of anguish. Her eyes looked dark like olive seeds. ‘Sometimes, it is better we don’t know things of the past.’
Jade had worked herself into a ball of nerves about seeing Adam. Pamela had sensed her growing uneasiness and had taken to prepping her for their ‘date’.
‘It’s not a date, Pamela,’ Jade insisted, her cheeks the same colour as Pam’s pink cardigan. ‘He’s just dropping me home.’
‘Sweetie, you’re right, strictly speaking it isn’t a date because unless you went to the school hall for a cup of tea, there is nowhere he could take you. So, I give the chap a gold star for coming up with a novel way to see you. I think it’s cute.’
Jade tried to busy herself with the endless amount of work that needed to be done but she couldn’t stay focused. ‘You look great,’ Pamela said, reading Jade’s mind. ‘But come with me.’ She took her handbag and led Jade to the bathroom. When they were standing in front of the mirror, Jade took in her messy appearance. Strands from her plaited hair fell around her face. ‘May I?’ Pamela said as she took out the elastic band and ran a comb through Jade’s hair. Instead of her usual middle parting, Pamela combed it more to the right so that her hair fell over her forehead like a side fringe.
She handed Jade mascara and Jade applied it to her lashes, feeling completely out of character. She blinked her eyes open and noticed how her now thick black eyelashes made her eyes look brighter.
‘Now I know why your parents named you Jade. Your eyes.’
Jade felt a pang of emptiness; it was something her mother had always told her. Standing in front of the mirror, with Pamela smiling at her handiwork, made Jade realise how absent Asha had been from her life. This was the type of scene Jade had always wished to have with her mother.
‘You look beautiful,’ Pamela said.
Jade laughed and tried to shrug off thoughts of her mother. ‘Who would have thought that my high school teacher would one day be giving me a makeover in a pub?’
‘It’s hardly a makeover. You’re a natural beauty.’
Jade went to the side of the tent in the car park and waited for Adam to pull up. When he did, in a dusty black four-wheel drive, she drew her breath and told herself it wasn’t a date. He got out of the car and she saw that he wasn’t wearing his uniform, but a pair of jeans and black T-shirt. He had shaved and it looked like he had splashed his hair back with water.
‘Hi, Jade.’ He smiled, revealing a line of perfectly straight white teeth. He opened the door for her. ‘Sorry about the mess. My car’s a bit of a second home at the moment.’
As soon as she sat in the car, she could smell traces of smoke and ash as if it had seeped into the fabric of the seats. Did firefighters get used to the lingering scents of fire or was it a constant reminder of the smokescreen between life and death? The back was piled with clothes, towels, a rugby ball. ‘So, where are you staying while you’re here?’
Adam put his seatbelt on and turned the ignition. ‘I have a friend here called Riley, a firefighter who used to work with me at my Melbourne station. I’m staying at his house until I go back.’
Adam stopped at the turn out of the car park. She looked down at his hand on the gear stick and noticed a round burn mark on his forefinger. ‘Right,’ Jade said, directing him down the main street. ‘I’m staying in a cabin in Fairmont until we decide what to do with the house. It’s about five kilometres from here. Just go straight and then left on Allovo Road.’ Jade looked out the window as they drove. ‘So, when will you go back?’
‘Some of the guys have started heading out, but my station has given us the option to stay on for another week if we want to help with the remaining fires.’
Jade tried to sound casual. ‘So, what will you do?’
‘I’m going to stay an extra week.’
Jade stole a glance at him and took in the shape of his muscular arms, the way he squinted his eyebr
ows slightly in concentration, the smell of his sweat and aftershave. There was something about him that made her feel light, dizzy almost, as if he was directing the rhythm of her heartbeat. She tried to keep her voice even, unaffected. ‘And then what?’
Adam kept his eyes on the road. ‘I’m not sure. There are a lot of variables.’ He seemed uneasy and quickly changed the subject. ‘Have you lived in Somerset long?’
‘All my life. I’ve never left, unlike my friends who got out of here as soon as they could drive.’ Jade pointed to the small cabin at the bottom of the valley. ‘That’s where we’re staying.’
He pulled up outside the front and Jade paused. She wasn’t ready to let him go. She didn’t want to invite him for tea because it felt too formal and if her grandmother came home, she would insist he stay for dinner and would probe him with endless questions. Then there was her dad, and that was a whole other worry she didn’t want to contend with. ‘Do you want to go for a walk?’
He seemed relieved she had offered something. ‘Sure.’
They walked across the clearing and entered the dense bushland. ‘I don’t know my way around these forests, so I hope you have a better sense of direction than I do,’ she joked.
‘Riley actually lives quite near here, so I’ve walked through this area on a few nights.’
‘Nights?’
‘I don’t sleep,’ he admitted. ‘I’ve had insomnia since I was a teenager. The only positive about it is that I found it easy to adjust to shift work as a firey.’
‘Why did you decide to become one?’
‘My dad and my grandfather were firefighters, so I think it’s in my blood. When I was a boy, I used to love going with Dad to work and sitting on the fire trucks or lying in his bunk. I thought I was the luckiest kid alive cause my dad was a real hero. Ever since I can remember, I wanted to be just like him.’
The Ties That Bind Page 12
