Wife for Hire

by Dianne Blacklock

  Sam steered around the final roundabout. This was the last stretch of road before the beach. She scanned ahead, looking for a gap between the buildings. She pulled up where number seven should have been. But there wasn’t even a number ‘7’ any more. There were only the words Bella Vista in black iron curlicues on the front of a blonde-brick three-storey block of flats. Sam stared at it, uncomprehending. She blinked, hoping that when she opened her eyes the green house would be sitting there again. She was unaware that Hal had said her name a couple of times. She only remembered he was there at all when she felt his hand on hers, still clutching the steering wheel. It gave her a start, and she looked at him for a moment without really seeing him. She turned away and got out of the car, leaving the door open as she hurried down the road towards the beach.

  ‘Sam!’

  She stopped at the street sign at the corner and stared at it, the letters burning into her eyes. Dolphin Parade. She hadn’t made a mistake. So where was the house?

  Hal caught up to her as she started back up the street again. He grabbed her by the arm. She looked at him, startled.

  ‘Sam, you left the car running,’ he said, holding the keys. ‘What’s wrong, what’s the matter?’

  ‘I can’t find Nan’s house,’ she said tearfully, pulling away and running back up to where it should have been. She stopped for a moment, breathless, out the front of Bella Vista. Then she started down the driveway.

  ‘Sam!’ Hal had followed her. He caught her arm again and swung her around. ‘You’re sure this is the right street?’

  She nodded, blinking back tears, the ache in the back of her throat making it hard to speak.

  Hal held both her arms gently. She looked like a bewildered little girl. He barely had the heart to say anything. ‘Then the house is gone, Sam,’ he said quietly. ‘It must have been pulled down a long time ago.’

  She looked at him for a while as the truth dawned on her. ‘I have to call my mother,’ she said, breaking away from him and heading back to the car. She opened the door and reached across to her bag for her mobile. She dialled the number and leaned on the car, waiting for it to connect. Hal stayed back, propped against the brick fence of Bella Vista.

  She heard her mother’s voice. ‘Hello?’

  ‘Mum, it’s Sam.’

  ‘Oh, Samantha. I can’t hear you very well, it’s a bad connection. Where are you calling from? Are you on the mobile?’

  ‘I’m in Taloumbi.’

  ‘You’re calling from Taloumbi on your mobile? It’ll cost you a fortune.’

  ‘Mum,’ Sam interrupted brusquely. ‘What happened to Nan and Pop’s place?’

  ‘Why, I sold it. Years ago.’

  Sam breathed out heavily. ‘Why didn’t you tell me?’

  ‘I’m sure I did –’

  ‘No, you didn’t,’ Sam said firmly. ‘You never told me anything about it.’

  ‘Well, it was right around the time you were getting married, you probably don’t remember.’

  ‘You never told me!’ she insisted sharply. ‘I would remember.’

  ‘Fair enough, if you say so. Why did you want to know anyway?’

  Sam paused, catching her breath. ‘I drove up to see it today, for old times’ sake.’

  She heard her mother chuckle. ‘Honestly Samantha, you always were sentimental. If it had still been standing it would have been such a dump by now.’

  ‘So you knew they were going to pull it down?’

  ‘Of course! What else would they do with a little fibro shack, especially on such a prime block of land. We sold it to a developer for quite a tidy sum. Some of it paid for your wedding.’

  Well, wasn’t that a bitter fucking irony.

  ‘Sam, are you there? I think I must be losing you.’

  For some reason, Sam didn’t say anything.

  ‘She must have dropped out,’ her mother muttered to herself. Then she hung up. Sam sighed heavily and turned off the phone in case she tried to ring back. Not that her mother would ever do that, it would be too expensive.

  Sam glanced over towards Hal. God, he must think she was cracked. She should never have brought him here. And now she was going to have to do the right thing and see this day out when all she felt like doing was crawling under a rock.

  She dropped the phone back into her bag and reached for a tissue. When she turned around again Hal was wandering slowly over to her, his hands thrust in his pockets.

  ‘Are you okay?’

  She nodded, mustering a smile. ‘Let me assure you, the quintessential day out does not usually involve a woman having a loony attack. That’s an optional extra.’

  ‘You had a bit of a shock,’ he said. ‘It’s understandable.’

  Oh, don’t be nice. If he was nice, she was going to burst into tears, she just knew it.

  ‘Did you find out what happened?’ he asked.

  Sam nodded. ‘My mother sold it to a developer to help pay for my wedding. Talk about throwing good money after bad!’ she scoffed. She was trying to lift the mood but Hal just looked sadly at her. Shit.

  ‘I just don’t understand why everything has to change,’ Sam sighed. ‘Why some things can’t stay the same.’

  ‘They call it progress,’ he said ruefully.

  ‘Who says?’

  ‘I’m sorry?’

  ‘When we’re little we don’t want to throw out the old, we cling to it,’ Sam said testily. ‘Old teddies, raggedy blankets, we cherish what’s familiar. We love it despite it being old and tatty, perhaps even because of it. And then somewhere along the way we’re taught to believe that new is better, younger is more attractive. We discard people as though they had a use-by date.’

  Sam realised she’d been tearing her tissue up savagely as she spoke. What the hell was she going on about? She glanced up at Hal. He still had that sympathetic expression on his face. God, he must think she was loopy.

  ‘This isn’t much of a day out for you,’ she said.

  ‘Don’t worry about me.’ He leaned back against the car next to her and folded his arms. ‘Would you rather go home?’

  Sam shook her head. It was hardly fair on Hal to drag him all the way up here only to turn around and go home again. And he was being so decent about it all. She looked down the street to the beach. At least it hadn’t changed. ‘Do you want to go for a walk?’

  ‘Sure.’

  They strolled slowly down to the end of the road.

  ‘You must have been very close to your grandparents,’ said Hal after a while.

  Sam nodded. ‘Coming here was the most normal family experience we had. I have such fond memories of the house. It was just a simple little cottage, but . . .’ she sighed. ‘My mother thought it was nothing but an old shack. She didn’t really see eye to eye with her parents. But we loved them. I named Ellie after Nan.’

  They came to the track through the sandhills that would take them to the beach.

  ‘And your grandfather?’ Hal prompted Sam to continue.

  ‘Oh, we adored Pop. I used to follow him around the entire time, but he didn’t seem to mind. I think he may have enjoyed it.’

  ‘I’m sure he did.’

  They came to an octagonal viewing platform set on the crest of the sandhills. There were signs with information about the dune regeneration project being undertaken along the beach, the reason the track was cordoned off.

  ‘Max and I used to play hide and seek in these dunes. And then when we got a little older, we’d hide and watch the guys when they came out of the surf. They’d do these really complicated manoeuvres with their towels wrapped around them, getting their boardshorts or wetsuits off and dry clothes on. We used to watch, hoping we’d see something, but if we ever had, I’m sure we would have died.’

  Hal smiled.

  ‘Coming from an all-female household made us overly curious and incredibly naïve. Boys were a mystery, like another species. It was quite an education having one of my own, let me tell you.’

  ‘W
hen did your father leave?’

  ‘Just after Maxine was born. I was only three, I don’t really remember him.’

  ‘You never saw him again?’

  Sam shook her head. She didn’t like talking about her father. Most of the time she forgot she even had one.

  They continued down the track towards the sand.

  ‘I love the beach,’ said Sam. ‘It takes me back to being a kid. You know, carefree, no responsibilities. I’ve always said if I ever won the lottery, I’d go lie on a beach somewhere for a month.’

  ‘I can’t imagine you doing that,’ said Hal.

  She looked at him. ‘Why not?’

  ‘I don’t know,’ he shrugged. ‘I can’t see you staying put for that long. You’re always so busy.’

  Sam smiled. ‘I’d like to give it a go. See what it’d be like to have nothing to do for a while.’

  They had reached the shore and Sam stooped to untie her sneakers. Hal did the same. She stepped forward to test the water.

  ‘Oh my God! It’s freezing,’ she gasped.

  Hal followed her. ‘It’s not cold,’ he scoffed. ‘It’s . . .’

  Sam looked at him expectantly.

  ‘Bracing,’ he finished.

  They continued along the shoreline, their feet sinking in the damp sand, leaving a trail of footprints. Sam remembered walking along with Max in single file behind Pop, stepping in his footprints. When they were little they used to have to leap from one to the next to match his strides.

  ‘So you had a pretty idyllic childhood?’ Sam asked Hal after a while.

  ‘What makes you say that?’

  She shrugged. ‘Oh, I don’t know. Summers by the lake, skiing in the winter. Sounds not bad to me.’

  Hal chuckled.

  ‘What?’

  ‘Australians have some funny ways of expressing themselves. You say “not bad” when you mean something’s good, and “not too good” when something’s bad.’

  ‘It’s so we can never be accused of overstating anything. So, how was your childhood?’ she asked pointedly.

  ‘Not bad,’ he quipped.

  ‘Any brothers or sisters?’

  ‘One sister, ten years older than me.’

  ‘So you were spoilt rotten?’

  Hal smiled. ‘No, I was nurtured and cherished and ended up growing into a very well-balanced adult. Haven’t you noticed?’

  Sam eyed him. ‘And your parents were both academics?’

  ‘How did you know that?’

  ‘I listen Hal, I’m a woman.’

  He shook his head. ‘Okay. My father was a professor of literature. My mother was originally one of his students.’

  ‘Sounds a bit scandalous.’

  ‘No, nothing happened until she came back as a graduate. She was studying for her masters degree and he was her adviser. She was very bright, probably more intelligent than my father. I think it threatened him a little.’

  ‘Oh?’

  He nodded. ‘Anyway, they married, and pretty soon she was pregnant with my sister. She gave up academia and devoted herself to Portia –’

  ‘Portia?’

  ‘Mm,’ Hal smiled. ‘From The Merchant of Venice. My mother had a thing for Shakespeare.’

  ‘I remember “Prince Hal”,’ said Sam. ‘She had a PhD, didn’t you say?’

  ‘Not quite,’ he explained. ‘She was invited to take up a research position and complete her PhD at Dartmouth College, which was very prestigious, it’s an Ivy League school. But out of the blue, my father accepted the post in Australia. She worked on her thesis out here, and then I came along. She never finished it. Portia thinks that’s just how my father wanted it.’

  ‘What do you think?’

  Hal shrugged. ‘I don’t know why Mom made the choices she did, I don’t know what went on behind closed doors. I was just a kid, she was a very loving mother. She seemed happy to me.’

  ‘Maybe she was.’

  ‘Portia will always believe she was trapped in the marriage and wasn’t able to express herself. I suggested once that maybe Mom found expression in her role as our mother. Portia nearly bit my head off. She said that was just the kind of typical, misogynist, male egotism that fuelled our patriarchal society and kept women as the underlings,’ he recited.

  ‘What did you say to that?’

  ‘I took it right back. Portia can be pretty scary. Especially when you’re ten years old and she’s twenty and she’s at college, and she comes home and all she does is fight with everybody.’ He paused, staring down at the sand as he walked. ‘She was always yelling at Mom, telling her to break out, live her own life. It used to worry me as a little kid. I didn’t understand, I thought she’d go and I’d be left alone with my father.’

  ‘I’m assuming that never happened?’

  Hal sighed heavily. ‘She died the year I went to college. Cancer.’

  ‘Oh Hal, I’m sorry.’

  They didn’t say anything for a while. They had come to the headland and they started to pick their way over the rocks until the encroaching waves forced them back. The swell was huge today. They sat on a flat rock staring out towards the horizon.

  ‘What about your father?’ Sam asked eventually.

  ‘He’s still alive. He spends most of his time on his own, writing and researching. He has the occasional paper published. I don’t think he ever got over losing Mom, despite the fact that he never really appreciated her while she was there.’

  ‘Oh?’

  ‘According to Portia,’ he smiled faintly.

  ‘Do you see him much?’

  ‘It’s a little difficult at the moment.’

  ‘I realise that,’ said Sam. ‘But when you were back home?’

  ‘Well, we lived on opposite sides of the country . . .’ Hal glanced at her briefly before looking back out at the sea. ‘He’s not an easy person to get close to. We don’t really have a lot in common.’

  Sam sensed he didn’t want to say too much more about that. ‘What about Portia?’

  ‘She lives in LA, somewhere she knew my father would never come to visit. There’s no love lost between those two.’ Hal leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. ‘Portia’s the activist of the family. I think she believes she’s giving Mom the voice she never had. She never married but she had a daughter, who’s all grown up now, married with children of her own. All very respectable. Portia thinks she failed with her,’ Hal grinned.

  ‘Do you keep in touch?’

  ‘Sure,’ he nodded. ‘We haven’t lived nearby each other since I was a kid, but we have a very fiery email relationship. She blames me for all the sins of men because I am one, for multinational corporations because I work for one, and for technology because of what I do.’

  ‘How did you end up working in IT anyway?’ Sam asked as the thought occurred to her. ‘You know, coming from a literary family. Were you being a rebel?’

  Hal smiled. ‘Maybe a little, but it was mostly by accident. I floundered a bit after Mom died, dropped out of college and took a job in an electronics workshop. I didn’t really imagine it would become my career.’

  ‘A career you don’t even like any more?’ Sam suggested.

  He looked at her. ‘You really do listen, don’t you?’

  She smiled.

  ‘It’s probably just typical middle-class, middle-aged, egocentric male angst,’ said Hal. ‘At least that’s what Portia would call it.’

  ‘Did you ever have a dream to do anything else?’

  ‘Sure.’

  ‘Like what?’ Sam urged.

  He turned around to face her. ‘Well, there was cowboy, fireman and then astronaut, or maybe it was the other way around. Astronaut and then fireman.’

  ‘Okay, anything after the age of ten?’ Sam persisted.

  ‘Well, that was the year my parents bought me my first sailboat –’

  ‘You really were spoilt.’

  Hal ignored that. ‘I spent my teenage years dreaming up ways to make a li
ving sailing around the world.’

  ‘But you never did?’

  ‘After I quit college I crewed a boat around the Caribbean for a few months. But that was about it.’

  ‘Do you still sail?’

  ‘Sure, all the time.’

  ‘Really?’ Sam exclaimed. ‘Here in Australia?’

  He nodded. ‘I was out on the harbour last weekend.’ He looked at her. ‘Why are you so surprised?’

  Sam realised that ever since the girls had planted the seed, she’d had images of Hal trawling the bars in his spare time, picking up women to take home for sympathy sex.

  ‘It probably just doesn’t fit with my mental picture of you.’

  He raised an eyebrow. ‘You have a mental picture of me? What am I wearing?’

  ‘Shut up.’

  ‘I told Josh I’d take him sailing. He didn’t mention it?’

  She looked at Hal. ‘That would involve opening his mouth and forming words into some sort of meaningful communication.’

  Hal smiled, shaking his head. ‘I’ll have to take you sailing sometime.’

  ‘No thanks,’ she baulked.

  ‘Why not? You can’t be afraid of the water, not after braving bluebottles and octopus and God knows what else.’

  ‘As long as my feet are on the bottom and my head is above water, I’m fine,’ Sam returned. ‘But I don’t like the idea of being in a boat with a flimsy sail flapping about, going this way and that, being tossed around by the wind and the waves.’

  Hal laughed. ‘That’s not how it is. You have to learn to control the boat, use the conditions to your advantage.’

  ‘I’m sure you never have complete control,’ Sam said.

  ‘You don’t need to have complete control. Giving up a little and letting the boat take you is part of the attraction. The freedom.’