by Cate Kendall
‘I said, it was me.’
‘Oh, really, well … um … there you go then,’ Trixie’s intention had been thwarted and she was at a loss as to how to continue.
Ellie saved her the trouble, turned sharply and went into the classroom to begin reading with the first boy. Just out of earshot she heard one of them, she couldn’t tell which, say to another, ‘I always knew she was common.’
‘So how’d it go?’ said Mim after the waiter had left their lattes and moved away.
‘Oh – my – God,’ Ellie’s face was drawn, her shoulders reflecting her defeated mood. ‘It was hideous. The stupid bitches were loving it. How am I going to face the rest of the year at that school? The principal was there last night, for chrissakes.’
‘Oh jeez, I hadn’t thought of that,’ said Mim as her hand flew to her mouth. ‘Did you see him this morning?’
‘Yes, as a matter of fact I did; you know how normally he rushes past to show he’s very busy? Well, today as he passed me in the hall I got the benefit of a huge toothy grin – slimeball.’
‘Oh, Ellie, he’s such a sleaze,’ Mim said in shock. ‘So, what now?’
‘I’d love to just change schools, move cities, change our names and start all over, but obviously that’s ridiculous,’ Ellie said, stirring her latte thoughtfully. ‘I did have one plan that I think could be quite wonderful.’
‘Do tell,’ said Mim, pleased to see Ellie was thinking positively.
‘Well, Bryce and I have always dreamed of doing the Italy thing – you know, living in a little village, kids at the local school, learning how to cook fabulous pastas and things like that. I thought this might be the perfect time to do it. I don’t want to appear to be running away, but if I can last out till the end of term and leave with a bit of dignity, in twelve months surely it will all have blown over.’
‘Ellie, how marvellous! What an opportunity for the children, they’ll pick up the language in no time. And you and Bryce will absolutely love it!’ Mim was thrilled at this idea.
‘Yes, it’s quite exciting, isn’t it? And with all the planning and packing, I won’t have time to dwell on other things.’ Ellie looked up with a tired smile. ‘So, tell me the worst, how was it really?’
‘Oh, well it was quite tacky. All the usual suspects, two-bit actors, has-been comedians, tired old socialites who attend the opening of a paper bag. Everyone was very critical of LJ’s “artistic” endeavours, unless it was to her face, of course. The shot of you is actually quite beautiful, you know, Ellie. It really is. Killer bod.’
‘Thanks, Mim,’ Ellie smiled. ‘Not something I intend to hang above the fireplace in the formal living room. I barely remember it being taken and I never actually saw the photo.’
‘Well, pretty much everyone you know has seen it now, unfortunately, darling,’ Mim said as gently as she could. ‘It was actually the only image the media was interested in.’
‘Oh God, can it get any worse?’ Ellie moaned into her latte. ‘Those bloody journalists are such vultures.’
‘I know, darling. All the society photographers were there, and it will be on Kerri-Anne today, too. So I am afraid it’s going to get worse before it gets better.’
‘Never mind, Mim, it will all be fine. I’ve been through worse than this. It’s a real bugger, though, I thought it was all behind me. I guess you can never really escape from your past.
‘Now, enough about me, even I’m getting bored. How about you? How’s it all going? How is poor old James? That gave me a scare when you rang and told me. Is he going to have to have a bypass?’
‘Well, he’s out of hospital on Thursday, then we see the specialist and have tests in two weeks’ time, but obviously he’s been told to take it very easy between now and then. I was planning a weekend away for just the two of us and I think I’ll extend it into a week and really give him a quiet, restful time in the country – no phones, kids or work stresses.’ Mim smiled with exhaustion at her friend. ‘But thanks for calling me so often this week, you’ve really given me strength.’
‘Oh, don’t be daft,’ said Ellie with a flick of her manicured fingers to dismiss the unnecessary gratitude. ‘So, where are you thinking of going?’ she asked.
‘I hadn’t really thought about it yet, maybe down to the Peninsula. I was thinking of the beach-house but it’s such a long drive and also I think we both need to be looked after. I’m not feeling a hundred per cent either and my nerves are absolutely shot.’
‘Would you consider Moorooduc?’
‘Moorooduc? Why Moorooduc? It’s just a sleepy little country town, isn’t it? I don’t really know anything about it except you drive past it at a hundred kilometres an hour on your way to Portsea.’
‘Isn’t that what you’re after? A sleepy little town?’
‘Well, yes, I guess so. Do you know a place we can stay?’
‘As a matter of fact I do,’ Ellie smiled. ‘I know the perfect place for you both. Let me just make a quick call.’
Sarah straightened up from raking the leaves as she watched the black Mercedes coast down the sweeping gravel driveway. She leaned the rake against the big old ghost gum and walked up to meet her guests.
Mim was helping James out of the passenger seat when she saw Sarah approach. She was astounded. It was Ellie: a countrified version, but Ellie nonetheless. The corduroy clad legs strode out in the same coltish way as Ellie’s, and the long blonde hair was just as thick but up in a ponytail.
Before Sarah even said a word she embraced first Mim and then James. They were both taken aback at this intimate greeting from someone they’d not met yet, but took it in their stride.
‘Mim and James, welcome to Springhill,’ she said, standing back to appraise the couple. She reached for their bags. ‘Here, let me take those, you both look as though you could use a cup of tea. Do come inside.’
Despite the bright sun, the chill in the air left no doubt that winter was well and truly on its way, and the Woolcotts gratefully followed Sarah from the front hall into the drawing room to stand before the roaring fire.
‘I’ll just take your bags up and will be with you in a moment with afternoon tea. Please make yourselves comfortable.’
‘How could we not?’ James wondered as Sarah left the room. ‘Look at this place.’
They surveyed the room, marvelling that every little creature comfort had been considered. The overstuffed Laura Ashley upholstered furniture was worn but invitingly comfortable, and was arranged cosily about the large room. Heavy drapes, dropping down to finish in a luxuriant heap on the floorboards, framed elegant French doors. The doors led to a picturesque courtyard furnished with wrought-iron antique patio furniture and then fell away to the sweeping front lawn, dotted with old gum trees.
‘Mmmm,’ agreed Mim, ‘it’s gorgeous. I feel relaxed already.’ Mim’s mind was at ease knowing that the children were safe in the care of Ellie’s reliable Ursula for the week.
‘Ahhhhh,’ James sank into one of the wing-backed leather armchairs flanking the fireplace. ‘I’m exhausted. Just that walk from the car has me out of breath. This is ridiculous.’
‘Well you just take it easy,’ Mim warned. ‘We don’t want to end up at Frankston Hospital.’
‘Mim,’ said James, looking over at his wife with an outstretched hand, ‘I can’t tell you how sorry I am for the last few weeks; I’ve been such a prick.’
Mim took the two steps to her husband and held his hand. ‘Oh, darling, I’m sorry too. I haven’t been thinking of you; of course you’ve been under a lot of pressure too, I understand that now. I’m just so sorry it had to get to this.’
‘I’ll be fine, honey. We’ll both learn to start living life again, won’t we?’ He smiled up at her and she answered by bending down and hugging him tightly.
‘We’ll have to,’ she said.
Sarah brought in the tea-tray, groaning under the weight of a charming old teapot, complete with hand-knitted cosy, mismatched cups and saucers, and a huge p
late of straight-from-the-oven scones accompanied with jam and cream. Mim’s mouth watered and she realised she was starving. It was the first time in weeks she’d actually felt hungry.
‘I thought you might be peckish,’ said Sarah as she placed the tray on the leather ottoman between the two chairs.
‘Your guest-house is lovely, Sarah, very special,’ Mim said as she broke all her own nutrition rules and helped herself to a scone. ‘Ellie has never mentioned it before.’
‘Oh, it’s a special place all right,’ said Sarah. ‘Ellie probably didn’t feel you needed it before now. Sugar?’
The ghost gums seemed to be up-lit, but Mim quickly realised, as she admired them from their second-storey window, that it was simply the full moon reflecting off their smooth, white trunks. She closed the curtains and turned back to talk to James when she heard his gentle snores. Their snug little room had welcomed them into its sanctuary and, after a quick wash in the corner sink, James had fallen into bed and off to sleep.
Mim smiled sadly at the heavy blankets and bedspread moving up and down with James’s breathing. She was so worried about the impending tests and was relieved that he was sleeping comfortably.
She kicked off her calf-skin, high-heeled boots and pulled on her Peter Alexander ugg boots and quietly slipped out the door.
The warm kitchen was in the final stages of dinner clean-up. The roast lamb and baked vegetable meal that Sarah and her kitchen help, Molly, had served earlier had been gratefully accepted by the table of ten.
Sarah was just polishing the stainless-steel sink. ‘Tea, Mim?’ she asked.
‘Lovely, but you finish up, I’ll put the kettle on.’ Mim took the heavy kettle over to the sink, being careful not to splash any water on its shiny surface.
‘We’ve had such a beautiful afternoon on your property,’ Mim said once they had made the tea, gratefully sinking into an old armchair beside the kitchen fire. ‘We wandered around, we found the orchard, and there’s such a sweet sitting area hidden behind the hedge back there.’
‘Yes,’ agreed Sarah, joining Mim at the fire with her mug of tea, ‘that spot is one of my favourite places at this time of year. It captures the sun and keeps the wind at bay.’
The women sat in silence, staring at the fire and nursing hot cups of tea. Mim felt odd at first, accustomed as she was to asinine chatter filling in any gap in the conversation. She couldn’t bear it for much longer and was about to ask Sarah to give her the history on the house when Sarah looked her straight in the eyes and said, ‘How are you?’
‘Me?’ said Mim. ‘Oh, I’m fine. It’s James who’s ill, he really needs this rest week.’
‘I am sure James will be fine. He looks fit and the doctors will sort out his problem. It’s you I’m worried about.’
‘Me?’ repeated Mim. ‘I don’t have any problems at all. I’m a coper, you see, I have to be. If the mother falls apart, well, then, where would we be?’ Mim laughed away the questioning light-heartedly.
‘You’ve had a lot on your plate lately, Mim,’ said Sarah kindly, ‘and if the mother needs to fall apart then she should be given the opportunity. There’s no point sacrificing your needs for everyone else. Now, how are you?’
‘Look, it has been a bit tough lately, we’ve had a few issues, and the drama with Tiffany, then Ellie and then the hospital catastrophe last Saturday night,’ Mim attempted to give Sarah the lite version of her issues. ‘Well, I guess I’ve just been feeling a bit stretched lately. A little over-taxed.’
‘Feeling the weight of the world on your shoulders?’ asked Sarah.
‘Yes, and I keep getting this tight feeling in my chest,’ said Mim, frowning and indicating her chest with a splayed hand.
‘Anxiety can do that,’ said Sarah, gently poking the fire.
‘Yes, anxiety mixed with anger and an overall sense of hopelessness.’ Mim’s face was tight with tension. ‘I can’t see where it’s all going to end, but I really want it to.’
And before Mim knew it she was sharing her story with Sarah, telling her absolutely everything. Every personal detail about her and James, about their financial struggles; how she was sick of the competition for superficial things and, most importantly, how it was affecting her physically – the stress, the feeling of depression, the headaches. Before she knew it, floods of tears came and she was barely coherent, sobbing and snotting all over the place.
Sarah got up and brought over a box of tissues, then resumed her gentle listening. Mim kept on talking through the weeping, kept unburdening herself and Sarah kept on listening, carefully guiding the outcry with subtle questions.
Sarah was doing what Sarah was destined to do. Her gentle nature and generous spirit made her a born counsellor. Hundreds of women before Mim had sat in the same chair, talking in confidence to a kind person, a trained psychologist and, ultimately, a good friend.
Eventually, Mim was worn out. She stared at the now blurred flames through damp eyes.
‘That’s a lot to wear, Mim. You’re a mother of three little children, you’re having relationship issues, then, in a time of crisis, you have to spring to the side of the man you’re experiencing conflict with when he has a heart attack. Not to mention putting your clients on hold, which I am sure wouldn’t have gone down very well.’ Sarah leaned forward, speaking earnestly to Mim. ‘I know you want to work miracles, Mim, but you also need to give yourself permission to collapse if you need to.’
‘Thanks, Sarah, sorry to burden you,’ sniffled Mim.
‘Don’t worry about it, Mim, that’s what I’m here for.’
Exhausted, Mim bid Sarah goodnight and made her way upstairs. She felt numb. She no longer felt so futile, but she still didn’t have any answers. However, her cathartic out-pouring had had an anaesthetic effect, and when Mim lay down next to her husband she immediately fell asleep.
‘You can’t be serious?’ Mim stopped with the coffee cup halfway to her lips and stared at her husband in amazement. They were sitting in the courtyard of a little tea-house in Red Hill, enjoying the sun’s thin warmth.
‘Well, think about it for a minute,’ said James. ‘It’s just an idea to toss around and see where it takes us.’
Mim couldn’t believe what James had just suggested. She struggled to keep the excitement from bubbling up from where it was simmering in her gut. Move here? What a concept!
They were enjoying the last day of their retreat, and although they were anxious to see their children they were unusually hesitant to return to the city. They’d had such a wonderful week. They had stayed with friends in Portsea many times in the past, but their experience of the Mornington Peninsula was limited to Portsea back beach, Sorrento Main Street and Baxter Hungry Jacks. And once they had endured the Rye Carnival, but it was ‘hideous’, Mim had later told friends.
This time they had discovered the Mornington Peninsula hinterland. Meandering drives along dirt roads led them to hearty English fare at quaint little pubs, cellar-door tastings at picturesque vineyards and farms offering delicious organic local produce.
Mim had even spent an hour horse-riding along Gunamatta Beach.
It was when they were sitting together and looking out at the expansive view over Port Phillip Bay at Seawinds National Park that the idea had first crossed Mim’s mind. Why couldn’t we live down here? she’d thought. She quickly dismissed it as holiday-itis. This was surely a common refrain from holidaymakers approaching the end of their vacation.
But the little voice in her head wouldn’t go away. From that moment forth, every experience they had, Mim viewed from the point-of-view of a local.
This is where I’d buy my fruit and veg, she’d think. This lovely rural school with the excellent reputation is where the children would go to school. This is my post office; over there is our local café.
She’d start to get excited and contemplate it as a future, then she would come crashing back to reality. There was no way James would do it. He loves his job, it’s too far to commute and
he needs to be much closer to the airport.
So to hear her husband voice her exact thoughts had left her absolutely gobsmacked.
‘We could buy a few acres, maybe with a dam. Perhaps a great old weatherboard farmhouse, with a big veranda,’ James said excitedly.
‘What about your job?’ asked Mim. ‘It’d take you over an hour and a half to get into the city every day. Two hours at peak.’
‘I’d quit,’ said James, quite pleased with himself.
‘What!’ cried Mim, floored that he’d even suggested it.
‘Yep, quit. Who needs it? I’ve always wanted to start up a dot-com business, and it would be perfect down here. I could build a home office on our property. With what we’d make on selling the city house and the holiday house we could buy something outright here and still have a bit to set up the business.’ James started to go off at quite a pace. ‘The kids can go to school just over the road there – no private school fees! And they’d love living on a farm. We’d have ponies, and chickens – Chloe would love chickens. What do you think, Mim? Do you think you could do it?’ In his eagerness he appeared years younger.
‘Oh, James, yes, it’s exactly what I’ve been thinking all week, but I didn’t want to say anything,’ Mim gushed happily, but then the grin suddenly dropped. ‘But it’s so far away from everything: you know friends, families, the good schools … great shopping.’
‘But Mim, it’s only an hour for visits, and it’s the people who matter. Isn’t the rest the shallow stuff we’re trying to escape?’
‘You’re right, of course,’ she said, shaking her head. ‘Yes, yes, I want to change, I really do, it’s just going to take me some time to get used to the new us.’
‘Excellent. First step is to bring the children down here over the next few weekends and see what they think. Then we’ll start looking at properties. Say, why don’t we pop into Mornington and see what the real-estate agents have on their books?’
