Hello from the Gillespies

by Monica McInerney

  It was Nick.

  She was taken by surprise at the sudden thump of her heart.

  ‘Good morning,’ he said.

  ‘Good morning,’ she said.

  ‘Did you sleep?’ he asked.

  ‘A little. You?’

  ‘Not bad. I’ve just checked on Ig. Still fast asleep. I’m making coffee. Can I get you one?’

  ‘That’d be lovely, thanks.’

  He brought it in several minutes later, placing it on the desk beside her. Outside, the sky was already a vivid blue. It was going to be a hot day.

  ‘You’re up early,’ he said.

  ‘Just looking at something on the computer,’ she said. ‘Do you need to use it?’

  ‘No, thanks,’ he said.

  ‘I didn’t ask you last night. How was your trip?’

  ‘Full of surprises,’ he said. He glanced at the screen. ‘What are you looking at?’

  ‘Real estate websites.’ She paused. ‘I’m trying to find houses to rent by the sea in Adelaide.’

  A moment passed, then he put down his cup. ‘You read my email?’

  ‘Just now,’ she said. ‘For the first time.’

  He was staring at her as if she were an apparition. ‘Are you — Is it . . .’

  She stood up. She smiled at him. A big, beautiful smile.

  ‘It’s me, Nick,’ she said. ‘I’m back.’

  Ig could hear voices in the office. It sounded like his mum and dad talking. And talking. He stretched in the bed. He noticed his favourite blue blanket. Why was that in here in summer? Then he remembered. Yesterday. Last night. Swing Hill. The snake. Being scared. Being found. The bath. His mum. His dad. He stretched again.

  ‘Robbie?’ he said out loud.

  Nothing.

  ‘Robbie?’

  Still nothing.

  Robbie hadn’t been there on Swing Hill either. If he had been, maybe Ig wouldn’t have been so scared. Maybe the snake would have sensed there were two of them and gone away. Maybe it had gone away anyway. It was just that Ig hadn’t seen it go.

  He said Robbie’s name once more. Still nothing. It didn’t matter. It was always like this with Robbie. He came and went as it suited him. But he’d be back. Ig was pretty sure about that.

  He did another stretch. His stomach rumbled. He was suddenly really hungry. He heard his mum and dad’s voices again. They were definitely in the office. He’d go in there and see them.

  As he got to the office door, he saw they were hugging. Not talking any more, just holding each other tight. Really tight. That was okay. Hugging he could handle. It was the other stuff he didn’t like so much. The stuff Genevieve and Matt had been doing.

  He stood at the door and gave a cough like he’d seen done in films.

  They turned.

  ‘Ig!’ Angela said. She gave him a big smile. ‘You’re awake! Come here.’

  She pulled him in close between them. He smiled. He’d always liked it when they did this, ever since he was a little kid. It was what he thought of as an Ig sandwich. His dad on one side of him, his mum on the other.

  She looked down at him. Her eyes were all sparkly, as if they had tears or something in them. ‘How are you feeling?’ she asked.

  His dad was looking down at him too. He had those sparkly eyes as well.

  Ig thought about it for a moment.

  ‘Hungry,’ he said.

  CHAPTER FIFTY-SIX

  Yes, Ruth said, when Genevieve phoned her. She would most certainly like to see Angela. They made an appointment, in six days’ time. The news was great, she said. Wonderful.

  She told them what to expect. That Angela’s ‘old’ memory would keep coming back. That there would be overlaps of her memories from the past month too. That she might have lots of questions. They should answer what they could. She advised there might still be occasional moments of confusion, but they didn’t need to be concerned. It was part of the recovery process. All they needed to do was be patient with her. Of course, Genevieve said to Ruth. And yes, they were feeling very positive now too. It felt good to joke about it.

  Over the next few days, there was almost a party atmosphere in the house. Joan visited every day. Even her husband Glenn dropped over, bringing their kids and grandchildren. They were visiting from interstate.

  Fred Lawson visited twice too. To check up on Ig, he said. But they could tell it was mostly to see Victoria.

  Celia was now sleeping in the guestroom. Angela was back in her room with Nick.

  ‘I hope you don’t have a relapse,’ Genevieve said. ‘You’d get a hell of a fright waking up next to the man of the house.’

  They ignored her.

  Matt had only been able to stay for one more day. They’d all liked him. Most importantly, he met with Victoria’s approval.

  She, Lindy and Ig watched from the kitchen window as he and Genevieve said farewell.

  ‘Are they going for some kind of kissing record?’ Lindy asked. ‘Ig, don’t look.’

  Ig was glad not to.

  ‘This is the real thing for Genevieve,’ Victoria said. ‘It’s serious. He’s the one.’

  Lindy raised an eyebrow. ‘Is that your super ESP twin-sense at work again?’ she said.

  ‘No,’ Victoria said. ‘She told me this morning.’

  Genevieve had come into Victoria’s bedroom for a long chat. Matt was outside talking to Nick. While Genevieve held her, Victoria had wept again. Both in public and in front of her family, she was managing to stay strong. Alone or with Genevieve, she allowed her real feelings to show. She was so sad. Heartbroken.

  The night Ig was found on Swing Hill, she’d told Fred about the miscarriage. They’d managed to find some quiet time together, after everyone had left.

  ‘What did he say?’ Genevieve asked.

  ‘That he was really sorry,’ Victoria said.

  ‘That’s all?’

  ‘It was all I needed him to say.’

  After that, Victoria asked Genevieve to change the subject, to talk to her about Matt, to please try to make her laugh, even a little. There’d never been anyone who could cheer her up better than Genevieve.

  When Genevieve came in after Matt drove away, they all pretended they’d been doing anything except looking out the window.

  ‘Don’t even try,’ she said. ‘I could hear you all sniggering through the glass.’

  ‘We were swooning and sighing, not sniggering,’ Victoria said, smiling.

  Genevieve looked around. ‘Where are Mum and Dad?’

  ‘Where they always are now,’ Lindy said. ‘Over at the chapel.’

  ‘Again? If it hadn’t been deconsecrated, I’d start to think they’d gone all religious on us.’

  Angela and Nick had been at the chapel most of the morning. After months of not being able to talk to each other, they now couldn’t find enough time together.

  Angela had already heard from Joan about everything that had happened since her accident. She needed to hear it all again from Nick. Not just the facts. She needed to know how he had felt.

  He took it slowly. He told her how scared he had been the night of her accident. The bad days afterwards. How hard it had been when she hadn’t recognised him as her husband. His fear that she might never get better.

  They talked about his email. He told her more about the debt. His depression. About his visits to the doctor. About the psychologist.

  When she asked him why he hadn’t told her any of this before, while it was happening, when she might have been able to help him, he fell briefly silent.

  ‘I was embarrassed.’

  ‘About what?’

  ‘About feeling so weak. Lost. Everything I thought you wouldn’t want in your husband.’

  ‘But you’ve always been everything I want in my husband. I thought you knew that.’

  ‘In your Christmas letter —’

  ‘Nick, if I’d known anything about how you were feeling, I’d never have written that. I wouldn’t have needed to. I would hav
e understood. Like I understand now. I just needed you to tell me. To talk to me.’

  He took her hand. ‘I know that now. I’m sorry.’

  ‘Are you still seeing the psychologist?’

  Yes, he told her. It was helping him. She was glad, she said. He asked her about the headaches. She had to think for a minute. She couldn’t remember getting any. Not for ages. The doctor and the specialist had said they could have been stress-related, she told him. And when the stress had gone from her life, it seemed so had the headaches.

  She needed to say something else to him. About her Christmas letter.

  ‘Nick, I should never have said I wanted a break from you all. Or that I wanted to press a pause button. Because it happened, didn’t it?’

  ‘You didn’t make it happen, Angela. It was an accident.’

  ‘I know. But it made me realise something. I had it all wrong. I don’t want to be a different person. What I want to do is stay being me, but do things differently.’ She tried to explain more. ‘I always thought I had to be in charge of everything, of everyone: the house, the family, my visitors. That if I didn’t keep everyone organised, then everything would fall apart. But I was wrong about that too, wasn’t I? You all got along fine without me being in charge.’

  ‘It wasn’t fine. We didn’t like it. None of us liked it.’

  ‘But you managed, didn’t you? Everyone played a part and you got through it. The more I think about it, the more I remember enjoying it. It was fun. Relaxing. I feel like I got to know everyone in a different way. Maybe I needed to learn to step back now and again.’

  He smiled at her. ‘Maybe you didn’t have to go to such drastic measures, though.’

  She smiled back, lifted his hand in hers and kissed it.

  ‘I’ve been thinking about the Lawsons’ offer,’ she said.

  ‘So have I,’ he said.

  They talked more about it. It was starting to feel exciting. There was a lot they’d have to do to make it happen. Meet with the Lawsons, first and foremost. But it was definitely possible.

  So much seemed possible now.

  Four days later, Nick drove Angela to Adelaide for her appointment with Ruth.

  Once again, Genevieve made the hotel booking. She chose the same hotel Angela had stayed in all those weeks earlier.

  ‘If you can’t remember it from the last time, Mum, it will be like the first time all over again.’

  ‘Genevieve, please,’ Nick said.

  Angela just smiled.

  She and Nick started talking even before they’d driven out of the Errigal gate. She had already heard a lot about his trip to Ireland. About what had happened with Carol. His visit to Angela’s old street in Forest Hill, to the museum. Over the past few days, they had talked about much more too. Old and new memories. Their visit to the lookout in the Adelaide Hills before they were married. Was that why she had gone there the night of her accident? They’d never know for sure. Her memory of that journey still hadn’t returned. They talked about the tour of Errigal he’d taken her on recently. She remembered loving it. She remembered flashes of their conversation that day too.

  Now, as they drove, Nick told her about meeting Will.

  He shared every detail he could remember. The shambles of an office. The shambles of a flat. The football magazines. The bad jokes. The double alimony. Perhaps he exaggerated a little. Perhaps he made Will sound shorter than he was. Fatter. Balder. Sweatier. He also described a smell of cats in the basement flat that he didn’t remember being there. But he did want to give her as much detail as he could.

  ‘He was that awful? Really?’

  He nodded. ‘Really.’

  ‘He could be a bit of a know-all, but I always thought he’d turn out better than that.’

  ‘So I gathered,’ Nick said.

  She laughed and then abruptly, she stopped. ‘You did that. For me. Flew to London, tracked him down . . . ’

  ‘Genevieve found him. I just did the legwork. I needed to see him for myself. Know what my competition was.’

  ‘And?’

  ‘No competition.’

  ‘You’re right.’ She reached across for his hand. ‘Thank you.’

  He gave her hand an answering squeeze. ‘Any time.’

  It was a cheerful meeting with Ruth. She had invited several colleagues to meet Angela. A confabulation case was rare. Ruth ran a series of tests, saying she’d have the results in a week or so. But she believed there was nothing to be concerned about. It was clear to her that Angela was making a great recovery.

  After they said goodbye to Ruth, they drove down to the sea. Not to look at possible houses. There was plenty of time for that. They wanted to sit on the beach for a while. Look out at the water together. Talk.

  They had decided to accept the Lawsons’ offer. They were going to leave Errigal and move to the city. But not immediately. There was something else they were going to do first.

  ‘Are we too old for this kind of thing?’ Angela said.

  ‘Speak for yourself. I still feel thirty years old.’

  ‘I mean it, Nick. Are we mad to be thinking about changing everything? Upending our lives?’

  ‘I think we’d be mad if we didn’t.’

  They drove back into the city centre and checked into their hotel. They’d asked for a double room. They were given a suite.

  ‘Your children arranged it,’ the receptionist said. She read out the note Genevieve had dictated over the phone. ‘ “Happy second honeymoon. Hope you don’t mind, but we’ll need to borrow the money from you to pay for it. Have fun! Love, Genevieve, Victoria, Lindy and Ig.” ’

  Angela still had incomplete memories of her time in Adelaide before and after the accident. Ruth had warned her there would always be blank spots. A memory of the view from this hotel had stayed with Angela, though. The suite they were given was even higher than the one she’d had before. The bed was as large. The linen was as crisp and white.

  They were also alone. Not in their bedroom in the homestead, where there was always a good chance that someone would knock on the door at an inopportune moment.

  They lay on the bed. Nick took her in his arms and smiled down at her, tucking a lock of her hair behind her ear.

  ‘You’ve defied nature, do you know that?’ he said.

  ‘I have? With my wonderful memory tricks?’

  ‘There’s that, yes. But not just that. You’ve got more beautiful the older you’ve got.’

  He leaned down and kissed her. She kissed him back, holding him close. She knew every inch of this man. Knew the feel and the smell and the warmth and the kindness and the love of him. She had forgotten some of it for a while. But now she remembered everything about him.

  Some time after, Angela’s mobile phone rang. They ignored it. Nick’s phone rang. They ignored that too. They also ignored the bedside phone when it rang. They had better things to be doing than answering phones.

  Later, Angela lay in bed as Nick returned the calls. They had planned to go out to dinner. But it was so nice here in the suite. The room-service menu sounded delicious. The view of the skyline outside was beautiful: the sun going down, the lights of the city starting to flicker on.

  Yes, Angela’s tests had all gone well, Nick was telling Genevieve. ‘Ruth’s very pleased. But unfortunately we ran out of time. We need to stay down for another day of tests.’

  ‘Another two days of tests,’ Angela whispered to him.

  ‘Another two days of tests,’ Nick said. ‘Maybe even three.’

  Angela couldn’t hear what Genevieve was saying. But she could guess.

  Nick hung up. ‘She said we are a pair of liars and we don’t deserve to be their parents.’

  Angela smiled. ‘She’s right,’ she said. ‘We don’t.’

  He lay down beside her. ‘She also said we now have to do our best to forget all about them. She seemed to think that was very funny.’

  ‘It’s a bit funny,’ Angela said.

  They were
facing each other. She gazed at him, at his beautiful, handsome, familiar face, into his kind dark eyes. She was about to speak when he beat her to it.

  ‘Welcome back, Angela Gillespie,’ he said. ‘I missed you.’

  ‘I’m glad,’ she said, just before she kissed him. ‘Because I missed you too.’

  CHAPTER FIFTY-SEVEN

  Four months later

  The Gillespies were all gathering behind the woolshed. All except for Genevieve. She’d instructed Victoria to take dozens of photos of the grand unveiling and email them to her in Canada immediately.

  It was the beginning of July, a cold winter’s day. There had been frost on the ground that morning. They were all dressed in warm clothes, boots, thick socks and coats, stamping their feet to keep the chill away, keen to get started.

  Joan had done the catering again. Sausage rolls, as usual. Lindy had helped her ice two dozen cupcakes. The celebratory meal was set up in the kitchen. Celia wasn’t there, but they would be drinking tea out of her very fine tea cups and eating off her even finer crockery set. Six weeks earlier, Celia had sold her house in North Adelaide and moved into an upmarket elderly residential complex nearby. She should have done it years before, she’d told Nick. She now had lots of company around her. Lots of support if and when she needed it. Her enjoyable stay in the Hawker hospital after Christmas had put the idea into her head.

  Lindy had helped her pack up and move. To everyone’s surprise, she and Celia had grown close since they’d started working on Lindy’s cushion business together. Lindy had started referring to her not as her great-aunt, but as her mentor. Celia had gone quite pink-cheeked when she heard that. She’d given Lindy the china as a ‘thank you for helping me move’ gift.

  Today’s big event should have come sooner. But so much had kept getting in the way of the mural being finished. Ig had refused to work on it unless Angela was helping him. He also wouldn’t let anyone else near it. Angela had been up and down to Adelaide for appointments often since she’d ‘come back’. It was how they all referred to the return of her memories. Ruth had been up to the station too, staying overnight. She was almost a family friend now. She’d asked Angela if she could write up her case and submit it to medical journals. Angela was very happy for her to do so. She looked forward to reading it herself, she said.