by Cate Kendall
André, the manager, had a thick Gallic accent that belied his unlikely ginger hair and freckles. He held out one of the café's wrought-iron chairs for her, glared at her slim CV and then back at her.
'So, 'ow are you? Eh?' he demanded. 'You are enjoying the sunshine?'
'Yes, thank you,' Jacqueline replied nervously. 'It's lovely outside.'
'What about inside? You like zis place? What do you think?'
Jacqueline turned to gaze at the enormous white chandelier, the black-and-white flocked wallpaper, the delicate three-tiered cake stands, the flashes of pink that accented the purely Parisian space. And the pastries, the breads, the gateaux, the mountains of elegantly prepared delicacies that seemed to shimmer in their display cabinets.
'Oh yes,' she breathed, 'it's the most beautiful shop I've ever been in.'
'Good! That is very good! You will work here. You will work at Laurent.'
'But, I . . . I haven't experience . . . I can't use a cash register.' Suddenly she was stricken with self-doubt. This guy was crazy hiring her, but she was forty and had never worked in her life.
'Bouff!' he exploded. 'We have a cashier. Look at you: you are beautiful, you have a passion for pastry, you have ze uniform. And you love my shop. Zis is good, it is a beautiful shop. You even have zis little silver cupcake brooch here, it's nice; I like it. Start Monday. Eleven.'
Jacqueline sat dumbfounded as he stood to click his fingers and roar at an unseen worker out the back. 'Monique, ici maintenant. Les escargots sont terribles!'
'I yell at them in French,' he confided to Jacqueline, 'because it sounds so much nicer.'
In a daze Jacqueline said goodbye and stepped out into the bright Sydney sun, blinking at the unexpected turn her life had just taken.
Then one hand flew to her cheek in panic. How on earth was she going to tell Thomas and the boys?
~ 37 ~
It had been a week since Bella had called Sera. She was coming to Sydney and she wanted to have some special time with her, alone. After Mallory's accident, Bella realised that life was too short for being cross at your sister. So she had arranged a five-star hotel suite for the weekend so that they could giggle, bond, chat and try and mend the rift that remained between them.
Sera had been relieved when Bella had rung with the offer. They were getting on so much better since their night out in Paddington, but things were still a bit on edge. Anyway, she and Tony were having a rough patch and a night away from the house would be a welcome relief.
Normally Sera would have spent hours planning her outfits and matching accessories for this brief foray into her old world. But this time it was different. She could sense from the brief call that Bella just wanted to see her, the real her. And besides, she was getting a little sick of the constant battle with maintenance. Not that she'd give up her acrylics or anything drastic like that, but she just felt more relaxed about the get-together. It was to be two sisters hanging out, not a fashion parade.
When the kids and Tony were happily eating their Saturday morning pancakes, and Joan had her cup of tea, Sera ran upstairs and donned the first outfit her hand touched: a black shirtdress and black long leggings teamed with pearls – perfect. She threw a beige and red ensemble into her favourite oversized Versace handbag (a gift from Bella) and jumped in the car with barely a backwards glance at her family.
This was going to be fantastic. It would be lovely to get back to their friendly relationship of the past and hopefully put the strain of recent times behind them.
*
Bella was thrilled at the thought of seeing her sister. It felt like ages since the two had shared time alone and she congratulated herself again at the brilliant idea of having a girly weekend. She had booked them both into the day-spa for a double massage on the Saturday afternoon. Once she would have gone for a facial acid peel but lately she'd realised her ageing face wasn't improving much under such extreme treatment. Maybe if the stress was eased away from her shoulders and back muscles then her face would relax and hopefully result in a more youthful appearance anyway.
She knew Sera needed some physical therapy too, judging by how tightly wound she'd sounded on the phone. She could always change it to Botox if she wanted to.
As always, Bella worried about her little sister. The beauty challenge seemed to be taking its toll on her. No matter how grounded or real a woman is, Bella thought, life in Sydney or Melbourne or LA or New York virtually guaranteed it wouldn't take long for hair or eyelash extensions, breast enhancements or fake tans to assume the status of normality.
But she knew that Sera's desperate struggle for beauty stemmed from somewhere so much deeper than merely living in a glam town. She knew it was the scar – the one thing the sisters couldn't talk about.
Bella had tried to bring it up once, asking Sera if it was still bothering her. Sera had pretended that Bella had asked a different question and had rambled on down another path entirely.
Sera blamed her, Bella knew. Of course she did, she had every right to. Bella had been the one in charge and she hadn't done her job properly. Their own mother had often been absent and, sure, she had been fairly pathetic, really. But she had done her best, given the poverty, their useless father, the five kids under six. Bella had always known it wasn't her mother's neglect that had forced her into the role of Sera's carer, but her own guilt.
But that was then and this is now, she thought with a surge of positive energy, as she stepped out of the taxi and smiled at the uniformed doorman as he smiled at her long tanned legs.
Now was all about two sisters reconnecting. The first thing she had to do, though, she thought as the upholstered lift whisked her up to their suite, was change out of this mini-skirt. She never wore short skirts around Sera.
*
Sera pulled into the sweeping drive of the hotel. The doorman grinned at her cleavage as he helped her out of the car. 'Valet, madam?' he enquired.
'Yes, thank you,' she said and pulled the neckline of her top together.
She'd stopped on the way at Signature and bought Bella a little gift to thank her for the mini-holiday. The crisp white parcel with its perky raspberry bow balanced in her hand as she caught the lift up to their floor.
*
'Darling!' Bella said as she pulled the door of the suite open.
'Darling!' Sera replied and they embraced in a linen-crumpling hug. Two wide cupid bows of lipstick remained on each woman's cheek as neither had bothered with the fake air-kiss of their peers. They laughed and spent the next fifteen seconds thumb-wiping off their marks of genuine affection from the other's cheek. But the warmth of the kisses remained. On the surface it seemed as if any unresolved tension had long passed.
'Come in, sit down,' Bella said and swept her arm around the enormous room, which was decorated in the neutral colour palette of the truly wealthy. The white chandelier was a great cluster of resin antlers. The cushions were plentiful and luxurious in their range of metallics and had been perched daintily on the caramel and cream upholstered couch.
'This . . . is . . . awesome!' Sera gasped and spun around in the centre of the room. 'Honestly, I'm so excited I could jump on the bed,' she squealed.
'Be my guest,' Bella said and opened the double doors that led off each end of the sitting room to show two emperor-sized beds swathed in crisp white linen and faux fur chocolate throws.
'Seriously?' Sera looked to her sister like a child asking permission from her mother.
In answer, Bella kicked off her shoes and leapt onto one of the beds, springing away madly and laughing at Sera's surprised look.
Sera leapt up too and the women held hands and jumped up and down like a couple of kids. Bella reached over and hit the remote and soon MTV in quadraphonic sound was bathing the girls with bubblegum pop that only accelerated the silliness.
Eventually, when a truly stupid song came on, they fell in a heap. Sera's head rested on Bella's stomach.
'Do you remember Bananarama's "Venus"?' Sera asked
.
'How could I forget?' Bella replied and smiled. 'How many times did the DJ play it for us during that summer?'
'I had the best summer of my life that year,' Sera said. 'Remember that fake ID you made me?'
'It was either fake your ID so you could come to the pub with me, or I'd have had to stay home and babysit you. How bad was it the night we turned up and Mum was at the bar?'
'Yeah, that was bad,' Sera said quietly.
'But she didn't even notice you, you got away with it!'
'Yeah, that was the bad bit.' Sera got up. The fun and games were over. Time to change the subject. 'So how was the flight today?'
'Oh, the usual. I won't put you to sleep with the details. Here, look, I got us a bottle of Cristal duty-free.' Bella went back into the living room and popped the cork with a 'woo hoo' as it went pinging off the chandelier.
'You never do,' Sera said and she sat cross-legged on the couch waiting for her drink.
'What?' Bella passed over her sister's drink and sat down on the armchair opposite, curling her feet under her bottom.
'You never talk about your flights, or your day, or your life at all.'
'Sure I do, I just don't want to bore you.'
'No, I've been thinking about us a lot lately. All you do is listen to me bang on about my petty worries,' Sera said and sipped her drink, keeping her eyes on Bella's reaction.
'It's my job,' Bella said with a smile. She didn't like where this was going.
'It's not.'
'Sure it is: you whinge, I listen, we drink. Fantastic. Cheers.'
'Isn't there anything you want to talk about?' Sera asked.
'Well, there is actually.' Bella's glass clinked as she put it down onto the granite-topped coffee table. 'I'd like to talk about Mum. You really need to go and see her. She misses you, and she misses the kids.'
'Oh, she misses the kids, my arse – she wouldn't even know their names.'
'Sera, don't be like that, she really wants to see you. She can't understand why you're not talking to her.'
'I talk to her. I told you I rang her, when? Last week?'
'Last month. And the time before that was two months.'
'Yeah, well, whatever. It just ends in such an awful, nasty way. I hate it. But I'm not not talking to her. It's just that I don't need the past constantly poking its nicotine-stained fingers into my life.'
'Sera, she's your mother. She wishes she could just phone for a chat from time to time.'
'Chat – ha. More like whinge.'
Bella was getting annoyed now. 'Funny, that's what she said about you.' As soon as the words were out she wished she could shove them back in.
'What?' Sera was on her feet now, her arms folded. 'See, that's exactly the kind of stupid, antagonistic thing she would say. Why should I bother with her when she never bothered with me? She did notice me in the pub that night, you know. I saw her watching me dance. But she didn't even care that her fourteen-year-old was out drinking in a hotel. What kind of mother do you call that?'
'I know she noticed, Sera,' said Bella. 'I got into so much trouble the next day, but I never told you because I didn't want you to think it was your fault.'
Sera's mouth dropped open.
'As punishment she burned all my magazines.' Bella's voice was quiet, barely a whisper. 'That's when I left.'
The realisation that Sera herself had inadvertently caused her greatest fear to happen took seconds to sink in. It was her fault. She'd caused her sister to leave for the mainland. To leave her alone in that cesspit. She became even angrier.
'If I don't see Mum anymore, Bella, it's because it's your fault. You shouldn't have left me there. You didn't see how rotten my life became after you went. I had no one. No one.'
'Oh, it's my fault you were a teenager and couldn't do the bloody laundry and look after yourself? Fine, blame me. Blame me for everything.' Bella's voice dripped with sarcasm.
'I may as well blame you. I wouldn't have this fucking scar destroying my body if it wasn't for you.'
It was out. The scar. Sera's words floated in the air in front of the two women in their ugly glory. For all of Bella's guilt about Sera's disfigurement in the past, she was now confronted with it like an open-palmed slap. The time had come to make a choice. So she chose. Then and there, after years of self-recrimination, should-haves and if-onlys, Bella decided it hadn't been her fault. Shit happens. Kids have accidents. Life goes on.
'That was not my fault, Sera,' she told her sister quietly. 'You shouldn't have been climbing.' The freedom of finally uttering the words sent chills down Bella's arms.
An explosion of disbelief hurtled from Sera's mouth. She stood and picked up her handbag. She was leaving. This was crap.
But there were things that needed to be said. Bella followed her sister to the door.
'Kids get injured every day from stupid household accidents,' she said. 'I'm sorry it happened to you. So very sorry. But I was working hard looking after the four of you. You might remember what it was like, Sera, but you don't know the physical hard labour of it all. I would go to bed at night exhausted. I had school all day, then home to a pigsty, to get dinner on the table and then clean up. Then you'd be thrashing and crying in your sleep so I'd comfort you, but I didn't get a good sleep. It was neverending. I couldn't wait to get out of there, to be free of the family. To be free of you.'
Sera stared in amazement at her big sister, her lifelong protector, her guardian angel. It was all a sham. 'How fucking dare you?' Sera shouted. 'You self-centred cow!'
With that she flung her Versace handbag across the room. It thudded against the wall before landing in a heap on the marble floor with little regard for its minute Italian stitches and softly buffed cowhide. Sera stood with her hands on her hips. There was no way she was leaving now.
'How dare I ?' responded Bella, furious now. 'You cheeky little shit! You are the self-centred one. You are the one the world revolves around; you are the one who took my childhood from me, gatecrashed my twenties, and still moan about how I don't give you enough attention.'
'But you wanted me, you said you liked to look after me! You said I could hang with you in Sydney.' Even Sera could hear her whiny little-girl tone.
'Don't you understand, Sera? That was out of guilt. I couldn't not look after you. I blamed myself for that scar for years. I took jobs from Mum so that I could be your special guardian. I told her I'd watch you in the school play, so that she didn't have to. I made your lunch even when Mum was making the boys' lunches. Every time I saw your leg, it pushed me further into that role. Mum wasn't as bad as you think, Sera. I stole you from her.'
Sera leaned against the wall. Her knees shook and she allowed her body to slip to the floor. She hunched up, her arms hugging her knees. She was so confused.
'So all this time . . . ?' She looked up at Bella with mascara- rimmed eyes.
'All this time I've been trying to make amends for that hideous scar on your leg.'
The words tumbled over each other as they spilled out in a rush from Sera's lips. 'But it's not your fault, Bella, it's not. I'm so sorry, I shouldn't have said that it was.'
'I know you didn't mean it. And I know now that it's not my fault.' Bella sat down on the floor next to her sister. 'I finally know.'
They stared at the dust-free skirting board opposite them as they tried on the truth and found it fitted them both better than any designer label ever had.
~ 38 ~
Sera signed the bill and relieved the waiter of the room service tray. Before she closed the door she watched as the young man turned to leave.
'Hmm, nice bum,' she commented as she brought the tray back to the coffee table.
'Oh, you dirty old woman. You're old enough to be his mother,' Bella laughed.
'Now, what's for dinner? Time to tell me what your big secret order was.'
'Guess,' Sera said with her two hands over the silver food covers.
'I don't know, pâté de foie gras?'
> 'Nope. I'll give you a clue, it's your favourite.'
'My favourite . . . Hmm, that means what you think is my favourite . . . you probably think it's caviar. Is it?'
'Nope.'
'Okay, lobster bisque and a dozen oysters?'
'Nope.'
'Oh, it's not a boring old Caesar salad is it?'
'No. It's your absolute, secret favourite, that no one in the world knows about.'
Bella stared at her little sister, her eyes widened in hope. 'It's not . . . ?'
'It is!'
'It's not really?'
'It really is!'
The girls both screamed in delight as Sera pulled off the silver lids. They screeched in unison, 'Double cheeseburger with hot chips!'
'And bacon!' Sera added in excitement.
'Bacon, gurghalargh!' Bella let her tongue roll out and drool in a very useless, yet most amusing, out-of-character impersonation of Homer Simpson.
'Do I dare ask what's in those little silver dishes?' Bella said.
'Guess.'
Bella was well and truly ahead of the game now, 'Chocolate ice-cream!'
'With . . .' Sera prompted.
'Chocolate chips?!' Bella squealed.
'And . . .' Sera smiled.
'CHOCOLATE TOPPING!'
'YAY!' The two women leapt onto the feast, shoving chips and burger into their mouths as fast as they could.
'Hey, do this,' Bella said, and dipped her chips into the ice-cream.
'That's disgusting, a bit of decorum, please,' Sera said with her nose scrunched in distaste.
''Snot 'sgusting, 'sbewdiful,' Bella said, her mouth full.
'They've forgotten the sauce!' Sera said.
'Oh, what?!' Bella moaned, 'See, that's the problem with a five-star joint like this, too good for dead horse! Any money they've got aioli.' She dragged the last word out and fluttered her fingers.
'At least we get to check out the waiter again,' Sera said from the phone as she rang room service.
Bella watched her sister across the room as she dialled. She took in the bare feet, the track pants, the face washed of tears-induced make-up smudges, the simple pony tail.
