I reached into the picnic basket behind me, took out the thermoses for the adults and the bottles of juice for the kids and passed around the sandwiches, cakes and biscuits. After lunch, we got up and played a game of cricket together, enjoying a beautiful day with family and friends.
I hope that’s what Caitlyn would have done.
Wedding Fever
Since Jeannie had started cleaning houses to help pay her way through university, she’d stopped watching television soaps. There’d been so much drama in her real life she didn’t need fictional versions any more.
She’d posted advertisements in bookshop windows in Richmond, Carlton and Hawthorn promising reliable, meticulous cleaning using only natural, chemical-free products. It was a great lure, she discovered – people who felt guilty about hiring a cleaner didn’t have to feel guilty for destroying the planet too. Her clients so far had included a professional couple who communicated only via a series of bad-tempered notes, a family of five who appeared to throw their food at the wall rather than eat it, three untidy lawyers with immaculate wardrobes and possible drug habits and an old man with a big libido who’d chased her around the living room until she’d hit him with her mop.
She had good references from her pre-university jobs (teacher’s aide, library assistant and swimming-pool attendant), but no one ever asked to see them, or indeed asked her anything about herself. That surprised her. If she’d been in a position to have someone come into her house and clean, she’d have liked to know a little more about them.
‘That’s because you’re the most curious woman on the planet,’ her ex-boyfriend Richard had said. ‘It’s mad, Jeannie. You’ve got brains to burn, and you’re cleaning other people’s bathrooms. Why don’t you temp, at least? Get an office job somewhere?’
She liked cleaning. It kept her fit, especially as she rode her bike from job to job as well. And it was a means to an end. Once she got teaching qualifications, her options would be much wider. But Richard wouldn’t see it from her point of view. That had been one of his biggest faults, she’d sadly discovered. Three months ago, after a particularly big disagreement, she’d called it off between them.
It had been a very lonely time. She’d distracted herself by studying harder and taking on as many cleaning jobs as possible. The previous night she’d had a phone call from another prospective client, a woman in Carlton.
‘Would you be interested in a regular position? In two regular positions, in fact? Could you drop around and talk to me about them?’
Jeannie easily found the address the following day. It was a small cottage in need of a coat of paint, but still charming. A smiling woman in her mid-twenties answered the door and introduced herself as Kate. Following her down the polished timber-floor hallway, Jeannie noticed coffee and biscuits on the kitchen table. She also picked up a strong smell of furniture polish. Like many of Jeannie’s first-time clients, Kate had obviously cleaned the house before her arrival.
After agreeing on payment rates and cleaning times, Jeannie gently told Kate she didn’t need to clean beforehand next time. ‘I’m happy for you to leave it to me, really.’ She smiled. ‘Have bicarb, will clean.’
Kate looked quite relieved. ‘Isn’t it harder for you, though, all that extra scrubbing?’
She was the first person to ask Jeannie that question. Jeannie’s other clients had been more concerned that soda and vinegar actually did the job. ‘A bit, but I’ve got the best biceps in Melbourne now.’ She flexed a brown arm.
‘And you’re studying at the uni, you said? Are you from here originally?’
The mobile phone on the table rang before Jeannie could answer. Kate apologised before taking what was obviously a work call. She’d already explained to Jeannie that she worked from home as a fundraiser for local charities. When she hung up, she’d forgotten they’d been in mid-conversation. Jeannie didn’t mind. She preferred to work, not talk about herself. She pulled on her gloves, took out her cleaning cloths and got cracking.
An hour later she’d just finished when she heard Kate on the phone again. ‘She’s brilliant, Sam, thanks so much again.’ She hung up and joined Jeannie, still smiling. ‘That was my fiancé. He’s the reason you’re here, actually. It’s turned out to be a really busy time at work and Sam was worried I was getting a bit stressed, trying to do too much. You’re his wedding present to me.’
‘Not the only one, I hope?’
Kate grinned. ‘Well, he did say something about a wedding ring too, but we’ll see.’
‘Congratulations – when’s the big day?’
She named a date two months away, then hesitated. ‘Big is the right word, as it happens. My sister’s getting married on the same day.’
‘A double wedding? How lovely.’
Kate nodded. ‘Yes. Yes, it’s great.’
Jeannie noticed straightaway that it wasn’t great. Kate’s voice was too bright, her smile not reaching her eyes.
She barely needed to ask another question. Kate seemed eager, anxious even, to tell her the whole story. She’d known Sam for eight years, been engaged for three, she told Jeannie. They’d taken it slowly, saving for their own house, the wedding, a long honeymoon.
‘My parents got divorced when Amanda and I were teenagers, so I didn’t take getting married lightly. I needed to be sure. And I wanted our wedding to be exactly what we both wanted. Relaxed and fun.’
‘And then your sister just happened to pick the same day?’
Kate shifted position, crossing her arms in front of her. Jeannie wondered what a body language expert would make of that. ‘It was a whirlwind romance. He’s a stockbroker, she’s an executive secretary, they met at a charity function. He proposed on the third date. And Amanda, well, when she gets an idea in her head … She called us all together, even Dad, and announced she didn’t want a long engagement like me. That she wanted to get married as soon as possible. Before me, if necessary.’ Kate bit her lip, looking very young for a moment. Jeannie could only guess at the family drama that would have sparked. ‘My father came up with the solution in the end. Have it on the same day.’
‘And you didn’t mind?’
‘Oh no.’ Again, the voice too bright. ‘It makes sense, doesn’t it? We both want to be married. No point going to all that fuss twice in just a few weeks, as my mother said.’
All that fuss? Jeannie’s heart went out to Kate. No one wanted their wedding to be described as ‘all that fuss’.
‘It’s actually my sister who wants to employ you as well. The second job I mentioned. Her regular cleaner left her in the lurch, she said, and when I told her about your ad, she asked me to check you out and if —’ she stopped, embarrassed.
‘If I was any good to send me to her as well?’
Kate nodded, still looking uncomfortable. ‘She’s quite pernickety.’
‘Pernickety?’ Jeannie laughed. It sounded like a word out of a fairytale.
‘Very pernickety,’ Kate said gloomily.
Meeting Amanda the following day at her large apartment in a tree-lined South Yarra street, Jeannie thought of fairytales again. The sisters were like Snow White and Rose Red: Amanda’s hair as dark, straight and shiny as Kate’s was soft, wavy and blonde. Five minutes into the interview, Jeannie decided pernickety wasn’t the word for Amanda. Bossy, perhaps. Imperious. Most definitely self-absorbed. Amanda told Jeannie which day suited her (Monday), what hours she wanted Jeannie to work (‘You should be able to manage it in two hours. My old cleaner could and she didn’t look half as fit as you do’) and the order she wanted the rooms cleaned (‘Start from the front door and work your way in, would you? I hate the smell of cleaning products when I come home.’)
As she stood up, she nodded disparagingly towards Jeannie’s bag of natural cleaning products. ‘Do they actually work?’
‘With a bit of elbow grease, yes, they’re great.’
‘Grease? On these white carpets?’
Jeannie decided to change the subject. ‘Kate
tells me you’re getting married soon too. Congratulations.’
Amanda’s expression changed, from frown to radiant smile. ‘It’s so wonderful. I’ve always dreamed of it. My own special day.’
‘But isn’t it a double wedding? You and Kate?’
Amanda’s chin went up. ‘I know she was engaged first, but I couldn’t wait. And we still get to have what each of us wants.’
Jeannie had been wondering about that. ‘If you don’t mind me asking, how does it work? Do you decorate half the church each, choose half the reception menu, decide on half the flowers?’
Amanda looked appalled. ‘Good God, no. We’ll do it all my way, of course.’ She gave a quick, sharp laugh. ‘I’m joking. We’ll compromise. It’ll be a great day for us both.’ She picked up her large handbag. ‘I’ll leave you to it.’
Over the next few weeks, as Jeannie moved back and forth between the two sisters’ houses, she began to feel more like a counsellor than a cleaner. Under normal circumstances, as she knew herself, it was difficult to be within ten feet of a bride and not get swept up in their wedding plans. This, however, wasn’t a normal wedding, even by double wedding standards. It was a battle.
She heard everything from Kate. Her updates over their now-regular coffee together were like tuning into a weekly TV soap opera. If a disagreement on any aspect of the wedding was possible, it seemed Amanda, Kate and their mother were managing it. Both sisters had declared they would pay for their own weddings, refusing to accept anything from their parents. The difficulty was Amanda – or more accurately, Amanda’s fiancé – had much more money than Kate and her fiancé. Not only were their budgets different, but so were the sisters’ tastes. Amanda wanted a fairytale dress, six bridesmaids, imported white roses, floral arches, French champagne and a full choir. Kate wanted a simple white shift dress, no bridesmaids, jonquils, sparkling wine and a violinist. Their mother wanted perfect symmetry: four bridesmaids each, matching lilac flowers and dresses, elaborate food and expensive wine.
It was no surprise to come into Kate’s cottage one morning to find her crying. She leapt up from the sofa as Jeannie came in, wiping away her tears, embarrassed. ‘Oh Jeannie, I’m sorry. I know it shouldn’t matter so much, but I can’t help it. Would you take a look? It is awful, isn’t it? It’s not just me being difficult?’
Jeannie looked. It was a computer mock-up of a church altar and a reception room. It looked like Las Vegas mated with Disneyland: huge floral arches, fake doves suspended in mid-air, gold and silver balloons in the shape of cherubs …
Jeannie did her best to hide her feelings. ‘This is what Amanda wants?’
‘No, this is her compromise. It’s taken us three weeks to get to this.’ Kate looked like she didn’t know whether she wanted to laugh or cry. The tears won. ‘I’ve never understood her. It’s always been like this, all our lives. If I got a toy for my birthday, she’d want a bigger one for hers. If I got good marks at school, she had to get better ones. I saved and saved to buy this cottage, she had to buy a bigger apartment. And now even my wedding day. It’s as if she deliberately went out and found a rich fiancé so she could try and beat me at this too. Not that I care that he’s richer than Sam. Richer than Sam and I put together. Money’s not important to me, it never was. Or to Sam. We just knew what we wanted on our wedding day, and now between her and my mother, it’s all, oh, I don’t know …’
Jeannie found herself saying words she’d only recently heard herself. ‘Getting taken away from you? Turning into someone else’s day, not yours?’
‘That’s it. That’s it exactly.’ Kate stood up then, roughly wiping away the tears, picking up the print-out. ‘Sam will go crazy when he sees this. He thought it was funny at the start. But he keeps saying he never wants to hear about a pew decoration or table setting again. That this isn’t about our wedding any more, it’s about showing off.’
Jeannie had that feeling of déjà vu again. It was an uncomfortable feeling. ‘He’ll come round, though, won’t he?’
‘Will he?’ Kate gave an unhappy sigh. ‘I just don’t know, Jeannie. I really don’t.’
The following week, Jeannie let herself into Amanda’s flat and found her in the middle of the living room, weeping noisily. A round-faced balding man several inches shorter than her was holding her tight, trying to soothe her. When Jeannie had imagined Amanda’s fiancé Ivan, he hadn’t looked like this.
With brimming eyes and tear-streaked cheeks, Amanda introduced him. She looked so unhappy Jeannie almost felt sorry for her. ‘Would you both rather I came back later?’
‘No, stay. The house is a mess.’ Amanda took a shuddering breath. ‘Have you seen Kate lately? Has she told you why she’s doing this? It’s to get back at me, isn’t it?’
Jeannie just blinked.
‘She’s doing it deliberately, isn’t she? She’s always been jealous of me and now she’s ruining my wedding, refusing to accept any of my designs, not even one. After I’d compromised and everything.’
‘Shh, shh.’ Ivan rubbed Amanda’s back again.
Amanda started to cry again. ‘It’s not fair, Ivan. I knew exactly what I wanted and now I can’t have it. Because of her. She’s so selfish.’ A torrent of complaints poured out. Everything was ruined. All she wanted was her dream day, the day she and Ivan wanted, it was their special day —
Before she quite knew where the words had come from, Jeannie interrupted. ‘Why don’t you elope?’
‘— just because she got engaged first, she —’ Amanda stared. ‘What did you just say?’
Jeannie was having trouble believing she’d said it too. ‘I just wondered, have you thought about eloping?’
Amanda’s eyes narrowed. ‘Has Kate told you to say this?’
‘No, she hasn’t. It’s completely my own idea.’ That wasn’t exactly true, but this wasn’t the time to go into it.
‘But everyone would be so disappointed. All my friends. They’ve been dying to see my dress and my tiara and — ’
Ivan suddenly found his voice. ‘How exactly do you elope?’
Amanda spun towards him. ‘Are you actually considering this?’
‘Yes, I am. I’m as sick of all this carry-on as you are. Sicker, even.’ Ivan was growing backbone before Jeannie’s eyes. ‘Think about it, Mandy. We could just run away. Have our day, our way.’
‘You’re a poet and you didn’t know it.’ Amanda started to giggle.
Jeannie tried not to react as they exchanged a too-long kiss in front of her. Once they’d prised themselves apart, they peppered her with questions. She told them everything she knew. There were dozens of how-to-elope websites and companies that arranged it all for you. You picked a location, as exotic as you liked, filled out forms and it went from there.
Amanda’s tears had disappeared. ‘We’d be the talk of the town, wouldn’t we?’ She was asking herself the question, not Ivan and Jeannie. ‘Imagine what everyone would say! It’s like something from Hollywood! And we could throw a huge party when we got back, couldn’t we, darling? I could wear my dress again! Have everything exactly the way I wanted! Our own party. Not Kate’s.’
Jeannie knew then she’d heard and said enough. She was just leaving the room to start her cleaning when Amanda called after her.
‘Could you be a little more careful with the mirror in the bedroom, by the way? It was streaky last week.’
*
For the next few weeks, Jeannie didn’t see either sister. Kate was travelling for work. Amanda was spending every morning at the gym. Busy with her studies and a steady stream of new clients, Jeannie was torn between wanting to hear the latest and glad to have the houses to herself to get the cleaning done.
A month to the day since the encounter with Amanda and Ivan, Jeannie let herself into the South Yarra apartment. She noticed immediately that something was different. It was as tidy as she’d left it the previous week. The bed was still made. The bathroom was spotless. The kitchen immaculate. The only signs of life were i
n the bedroom. The closet doors were open, half the clothes gone. Amanda’s expensive cosmetics were missing too.
There was no note. No pay packet, either. It was as if Amanda had just upped and gone.
Upped and gone and … ?
Had she? Had they?
As Jeannie stood there, the phone rang. The answering machine clicked into action. Amanda’s voice played and then the caller spoke. Shouted, in fact. Jeannie guessed within seconds that it was Amanda’s father.
‘Amanda, you are in big trouble, young lady! Your mother is hysterical. Kate won’t answer her phone. How on earth could you do this? Cancelling all the arrangements at the last minute! Posting us each a wedding photo like that, as if eloping is fine! It’s not fine! How do you think Kate will feel, having her wedding ruined like this? Call me as soon as you get this.’ The phone was slammed down.
The answering machine was still flashing. Jeannie couldn’t stop herself. She pressed the play button. Six older messages poured out, all from Amanda’s mother, ranging from tearful to furious to hysterical, all repeating the same themes of horror at the elopement.
It was uncomfortable listening, for too many reasons. Jeannie got to work, doing the little there was to be done as quickly as she could. As she shut the door, she had a feeling she wouldn’t be back there again.
She was at Kate’s before nine the following day. Her garden looked beautiful in the warm morning sunshine, the flowers swaying in the breeze, sending out a welcoming fragrance. Jeannie knocked, waited a moment, then let herself in. She’d barely slept the night before, thinking about the two sisters, about their mother, hoping Kate wouldn’t be too upset today. Maybe she would even be glad. It would take some untangling of arrangements, but perhaps now she and Sam could have exactly the wedding day they wanted.
All Together Now Page 8
