A Month of Sundays

by Liz Byrski

  ‘The town is in the small spare room,’ Judy says. ‘My townhouse has three bedrooms, and two bathrooms. The second bedroom is nearly as big as mine.’

  ‘Well then . . . I’ll come to Mandurah?’

  ‘Yes, yes please, that would be wonderful,’ Judy says, trying not to cry again. ‘Even if you came back with me and did nothing, it would still be wonderful. I’ve been trying to visualise going back. I didn’t know how I would make myself get on a plane, go into the shop and start working again. But if you went with me . . .’

  Judy had felt her new calm sliding away into the abyss of the shop, but now the tension in her chest begins to dissipate. It’s crystal clear to her that she has made a decision to sell, to escape, to have a different sort of life. There is no going back.

  ‘Yes, Adele,’ she says, ‘please, please let’s do that. Yes, yes, yes.’

  *

  ‘Well this is a surprise,’ Ros says, opening the door wider. ‘You’re the last person I expected to see.’ Surprise and embarrassment, she thinks. Is Leah here on the doorstep because she knows what Ros has been thinking? The prospect makes her feel small and petty, like a teenager caught out behaving badly.

  ‘A nice surprise, I hope,’ Leah says, hugging her. ‘I thought I’d come and see how you are. What a gorgeous place.’

  ‘It sure is, come on in,’ Ros says. ‘Coffee, tea, something to eat?’

  ‘Yes please, tea and food, I’m starving, but can I have a look around first? Are your book club friends here?’

  ‘Of course you can. The others are all out.’

  Ros leads Leah around the house, taking her finally to the games room.

  ‘Simone does yoga here and I joined in yesterday and today, it feels good.’

  They make their way to the kitchen and Ros takes the remains of a chicken and some salad from the fridge and begins to make sandwiches, aware of a new and awkward tension between her and Leah. There are things she wants to say, but she can’t open up the subject, and likewise she senses that Leah is here for a purpose. She puts the sliced chicken on a plate, rewraps the carcass and pops it back into the fridge.

  ‘So I guess you’ll be home in a couple of weeks,’ Leah says, perched on the corner of the kitchen table. ‘It’ll be good to have you back.’

  ‘We’re probably going to stay on a bit longer,’ Ros says. ‘An extra week or two.’

  ‘Really? I thought you’d be bored by now, champing at the bit to get away.’

  ‘Well, you were wrong,’ Ros snaps, and she can almost hear a sharp intake of breath from James.

  Leah shrugs. ‘I thought it because this is not really your sort of thing. You don’t hang out with women for weeks at a time. You’re a loner, an introvert, and you hate being out of the city.’

  ‘Well maybe I’ve changed,’ Ros says, seriously irritated now. ‘Maybe I’ve found out that hanging out here with three terrific women is my thing after all.’

  ‘And is that due to the Parkinson’s?’

  Ros stops buttering bread, puts down the knife and continues to stand with her back to Leah. ‘How did you know about that?’

  ‘There was an information pack from the Parkinson’s clinic in the mail. Tim left it with the other mail on the hall-stand, but you know that because you were there the other day and you collected the mail.’

  ‘And you have a problem with that?’ Ros asks, and resumes buttering the bread, her back still turned towards Leah.

  ‘I have a problem with the fact that you didn’t let me know you’d be back in town. We could have met for lunch.’

  Ros turned to face her. ‘I came back to go to the clinic. Simone took me there and came in with me, and then we had lunch at Stephie and Marco’s place and called in at the house.’ She is caught between anxiety about what she thinks she knows, and surprise at the hostility she felt when Leah suggested that being here was not her sort of thing, because right now it feels like the thing that will save her life.

  ‘But you didn’t let me know,’ Leah says.

  She sounds, Ros thinks, petulant and sulky, as she so often did as a teenager.

  ‘Why would I? I’m not under any obligation to let you know when I go in and out of my own house.’ The conversation is deteriorating into something she really doesn’t want, but she feels unable to let go of it. ‘Of course I might have warned you had I known that there was a possibility that you’d be there bonking Tim in the flat. I assume that’s why you both ignored my knock at the door.’ She turns round to face Leah. ‘If you don’t want to be caught out, don’t leave your boots in the hall.’

  The silence is sudden and weighted with mutual resentment, and Leah has flushed crimson.

  ‘So was I supposed to get your permission to bonk the tenant?’

  Ros slams her fist down onto the worktop. ‘Don’t get mouthy with me, Leah. You obviously feel guilty, because you sound just as you did when you were sixteen and I found you’d hidden that awful Nick in your room overnight.’

  ‘It’s actually none of your business,’ Leah says. ‘I’m a big girl now.’

  ‘You are, and you’re married to Ivan, whom you claim to love.’

  The silence is longer this time and Ros senses a change of atmosphere.

  ‘Ivan and I have split up,’ Leah says. ‘We split up two months ago.’

  Ros stares at her in amazement. ‘What? Why didn’t you tell me? We talked about him in the kitchen, a couple of nights before I left, when Tim went to get the fish and chips.’

  Leah shakes her head, shrugs, and stares down at the kitchen floor. ‘I couldn’t. I felt so stupid because we broke up . . . I left him for all the reasons you had laid out for me before we got married. You were right all the time, and I suppose I resented that. Also, I thought you might think you’d have to stay home for me if you knew.’

  ‘I probably would’ve done,’ Ros says. ‘And of course you resented it. I always interfered, right from the start. Are you all right, darling?’

  Leah moves around the table, hugs her, hangs on to her, pressing her face into Ros’s shoulder. ‘I am,’ she mumbles. ‘And I know it’s the right thing for me, but I feel really stupid and sad.’

  ‘So did you leave him for Tim?’

  Leah shakes her head. ‘I split up with him because he was sleeping with his PA. The fair girl from Brisbane with the huge tits? You said they were probably full of plastic, remember?’

  ‘How could I forget! Is it serious?’

  ‘He says not, but she wasn’t the only one. He was also getting it on with a pianist who plays in the jazz club on Sunday nights. And that was serious, he’s moved in with her now.’

  Ros hugs her tighter.

  ‘Tim and I . . .’ Leah goes on, ‘we’ve always been friends, and he’s been so lovely. We’ve been seeing quite a bit of each other, though that was the first time I’d stayed at his – your – place . . . and then we heard you.’

  Ros sighs. ‘I was sure there was someone in the flat, and on the way out I noticed your boots. I’ve been thinking about it and getting grumpier ever since, so I’m sorry too.’

  ‘You know I would have gone with you to the clinic.’

  ‘Of course.’ Ros goes back to the sandwiches, and switches on the kettle. ‘So what now?’

  Leah shrugs. ‘Not sure yet. Ivan has gone to live with the pianist. I’ll stay in the house for a while until the lease runs out, and consider my options then. As for Tim and me . . . well, I don’t know what will happen there yet. Are you okay, Ros?’

  Ros puts the plate of sandwiches on the table. ‘Yes and no,’ she says. ‘I came out of the clinic feeling quite hopeful because they’d said that deterioration is sometimes quite slow. But since then I’ve had to admit to myself that my symptoms are more marked now than they were a couple of months ago. It’s been wonderful being here with Simone, Adele and Judy,
and, as you said, most unlike me. They’d all worked out what was happening for me before I told them. When I get back home I’ll have to start making changes, but I don’t really have any sense of how long I’ll be able to live independently.’

  ‘I’m so sorry, darling Ros,’ Leah says. ‘I didn’t only know through the mail from the clinic, I actually ran into Donald early this morning, and he burst into tears when he saw me. He made me promise not to tell you he’d told me, but I already knew, and I know you’d understand why he did.’

  Ros nods. ‘He took it very hard; we’ve been together for such a long time. How will I cope without playing with them? I’m struggling to look ahead, to see myself in six months’ time, a year, five years . . . but right now I really have no idea where to begin.’

  Chapter Sixteen

  The fourth Sunday

  Since daily breakfasts were abandoned the group meal on Sunday morning seems to Adele to have become something quite special. It’s Simone’s turn again today and they all begged for more of her pancakes.

  ‘Are pancakes going to be my signature dish then?’ she asked, searching for the whisk.

  Adele watches her as she beats the batter and heats the pan. She loves the graceful way Simone does things; there is something almost balletic about the way she moves between the pantry, the stove and the table, just as when she walks or stretches, or slips down into a chair. Adele wonders if Simone has always moved like this or if it’s a result of yoga. She hopes it’s the latter, because if it is maybe it will work on her too. But then Simone is tall and willowy, while when Adele looks in the mirror she sees a short dumpy woman, passable in appearance when her clothes and hair are just right, but pitiful when something is out of place. How does Simone always look so magnificent even when her hair is a mess and she’s wearing a crumpled shirt and has spilled coffee on her jeans? It could make me hate her, Adele thinks, but of course I don’t. I like her more every day. But there is still that gap between them, the dark, yawning gap filled with her own negative sense of herself, a gap she feels could never be bridged, although she knows Simone is probably unaware of it.

  Adele is sitting across the table from Ros’s de facto daughter, Leah, who arrived yesterday while they were out, and whom they later persuaded to stay for dinner. By the time they’d finished it was quite late and Leah was too tired and had drunk too much wine to drive back to Sydney. It’s nice to have a new face at the table, Adele thinks, and Leah is interesting. She shows them a side of Ros that they’ve not seen before – Ros the de facto mother, who took on a difficult but talented teenager. Adele watches them with interest, observing how the relationship works, wondering what it would be like to have Jenna here with her. Would I embarrass her with my awkwardness, my tension, by being so ordinary and uptight while the others are such interestingly complex women? As she watches Leah and Ros, Adele misses her daughter more than ever. I should go over there, she tells herself, soon. Now that my time is my own, there’s nothing to stop me.

  Simone puts a stack of pancakes on the table, sits down and reaches for her own plate. ‘You’re looking so much better now, Judy,’ she says. ‘We were all very worried about you for a while there.’

  ‘I’m feeling heaps better too,’ Judy says. ‘So much better that last night I rang Ted and told him I want a divorce.’

  ‘Oh well done!’ Adele says. ‘What did he say?’

  Judy laughs. ‘He said, “What for? We’re in our seventies, for god’s sake!” So I said, “I don’t care, I don’t give a shit, I want a divorce and I’m letting you know so that when the papers arrive it won’t come as a shock.”’

  ‘Good for you,’ Adele says.

  ‘Mmm . . . Well then I hung up and a few minutes later Donna called and asked what the problem was. So I told her – no problem except I’m still married to Ted and I don’t want to die married to him. No hard feelings but please, Donna, just make sure he signs the papers when they arrive.’

  ‘That was a really good move, Judy,’ Ros says.

  ‘It certainly was,’ Adele says. ‘In fact you all seem to have grown and changed in the last few weeks. I feel I’m the only one that’s stuck somehow. I don’t know what I want, where I want to be, nor even who I am since I retired.’

  Judy looks at her with an expression of total disbelief.

  ‘Don’t look at me like that, Judy,’ Adele says, ‘you know it’s true.’

  ‘No I don’t. Really, I don’t know anything of the sort. That is absolutely not how I see you.’

  Ros leans towards her across the table. ‘This book, Unless, there’s so much of you in it, and something of all of us,’ she says. ‘So let’s all just trust the process, the one you created when you told us to choose books through which we could get to know each other. It’s working so far.’

  ‘By the way,’ Simone says, helping herself to a pancake, ‘I found this flyer for a craft market. It looks like it’s a big annual event, bigger than that one we went to in Katoomba, and it’s on all day.’ She pulls a folded flyer from her pocket. ‘Annual Winter Crafts Market,’ she reads. She pushes the flyer into the middle of the table. ‘Anyone else want to join me before this afternoon’s book club?’

  ‘Definitely,’ Judy says, ‘sounds great. I’d like to find gifts for Melissa and Pam, and for the gorgeous Jack.’

  ‘Me too,’ Adele says.

  Simone turns to Ros. ‘You piked out last time, Ros,’ she says.

  ‘I did and I regretted it,’ Ros says. ‘So yes, I’ll come too. Leah?’

  ‘I’d love to,’ Leah says, ‘if you guys don’t mind. I don’t need to head off home until later.’

  *

  By the time they head for the market it’s past midday and the sun has emerged to brighten the spirits of both the artists and the visitors. Some have set up in the big hall while others are spread out along the narrow pedestrian mall, putting their faith in the forecast of a clear bright day.

  Ros, walking slowly behind the others, her hand tucked in Leah’s arm, is relishing this unexpected opportunity to spend time with her in the company of the other three. ‘So what do you think of them?’ she asks, nudging Leah with her elbow.

  ‘Great, aren’t they?’ Leah says. ‘There’s some really original stuff here. I love the fabric handbags – I might not be able to leave without buying one.’

  ‘I meant my friends,’ Ros says. ‘What do you think of Simone, Judy and Adele?’

  ‘Oh! Sorry,’ Leah laughs. ‘I love them – what terrific women. It’s so good to see you all together.’

  Ros squeezes her arm. ‘I feel good with them,’ she says. ‘And they’ve already survived a couple of my hissy fits.’

  Leah raises her eyebrows. ‘Even Adele? She seems a bit vulnerable to me. I think that’s what she was trying to say at breakfast.’

  ‘Yes, there’s a way to go yet. It’s her book we’re talking about this afternoon, so if you want to stay I’ll need to check with her first.’

  ‘No,’ Leah says, ‘thanks. I’d love to but I do need to get back.’

  An hour or so later, they find a café table big enough to accommodate all of them. The day is drifting gently on and Ros feels exceptionally relaxed as she watches Adele, who does seem to be getting more nervous as the time to head home for the book discussion approaches. She’s wearing her turquoise jumper for the first time and Ros thinks it does wonders for her. The colour is strong but not harsh and enhances her pale skin, giving it a new glow. And the grey in her hair is definitely softer and more flattering. She looks different, despite the anxiety that still seems to haunt her.

  Alongside her Leah gets to her feet. ‘I’m going to head off now,’ she says. ‘Thanks so much for inviting me to stay, it’s been great to meet you all.’

  They all get to their feet, hugging her, promising to get together again.

  ‘We’ll try and keep Ros out of tro
uble,’ Simone says. ‘It’s a big responsibility but the three of us are up to it.’

  ‘Good luck with that,’ Leah says, ‘and if it works let me know your secret. Love you to bits,’ she says, hugging Ros. ‘I’ll see you soon. Take care and when you get home we’ll talk about what lies ahead.’ She walks away towards the car park, turning back once to wave before she’s out of sight.

  Ten minutes later they are on the move themselves. ‘Shall we have a nice cheese and wine evening after the book club discussion?’ Judy suggests. ‘It’d be good to do something different.’

  And they agree to stop for wine, nuts, cheese and nibbles before walking back to the hire car.

  ‘While you get that I’ll just pop into the seven-day pharmacy,’ Adele says. ‘I really want to get something for indigestion, it’s been particularly bad the last couple of days.’

  ‘D’you think it’s food or anxiety?’ Ros asks her quietly. ‘It can do that, you know.’

  ‘Yes, I know, and I’m sure it’s that,’ Adele says. ‘Hopefully it will disappear after we talk about Unless. I feel I’ve got so much hanging on that, as though it’s going to open a door for me.’

  They stroll together down the street until they reach the supermarket.

  ‘Shall we meet you outside the pharmacy?’ Simone suggests.

  ‘Perfect,’ Adele says.

  And Ros watches as she walks away from them, crossing the street.

  ‘That colour really suits her,’ Simone says, nudging Ros. ‘What do you think it would take to get her to go clothes shopping with me?’

  ‘Rather less effort than it would have done three weeks ago,’ Ros says. ‘I think you should make that your mission, Simone. But it still won’t be easy.’

  *

  The pharmacy shares its large premises with a small sub post office which, it being Sunday, is closed. Stainless steel rails divide the two queues and today the sole queue for the pharmacy is longer than Adele expected; clearly the craft market has drawn a lot of people to the town. At the top of the steps behind the counter the pharmacist is dispensing the prescriptions, while his assistant deals with business at the counter.