Marianna stood on the path, hands in her skirt pockets. She waved to Adie, who gave her a jerky, nervous wave back.
Ned pointed at the waterhole and said, ‘Wanna have a swim?’
Adie nodded. ‘Okay.’ A sheen of sweat had appeared on her face.
Time moved slowly as Ned shucked off his shorts and Adie took off her shoes. It seemed to Quinn an exquisite dance they were performing for each other – neither of them looking at each other or the adults – as if they knew too well the significance of this moment. Ned left his undies on and bent low, like a crab, to look over the waterhole.
Adie bent too, still wearing her shorts and shirt, and followed his gaze. The water was still and glassy, pale tree trunks and green leaves reflected in the surface. It was quiet but for the rustle of leaves and a trickle from the small waterfall.
‘See the mark on the cliff over there?’ Ned pointed to a white, painted stripe. He glanced at her. ‘That’s its highest mark.’
Adie watched him as he lunged forward into the water. She lifted her shoulders up around her ears and looked up at Quinn, her eyes wide. ‘Are you coming in?’
‘Yeah.’ Quinn pulled his t-shirt over his head.
Ned swam, with lots of splashing, to the fallen tree. When he reached it and grabbed hold of the trunk, he called, ‘Did you tell her how cold it is, Dad?’
Quinn nodded at her and smiled. ‘It is pretty cold.’
‘Only go in if you want to, Adie,’ Marianna said from where she sat on a boulder.
Quinn turned to her. ‘You can come in too if you want.’
‘I haven’t got my swimmers.’
As he kneeled at Adie’s side, he felt Marianna’s gaze on them. He wanted to know what had happened between her and Rachel. And where was Rachel?
Adie took off her shorts and as she pulled her shirt over her head he saw the dressing on the underside of her upper arm.
He touched her arm. ‘I don’t think you need that dressing now. Can I take it off?’
She nodded. The wound was healed, but shiny pink and raw-looking. He scanned her for other marks. Her body was pale and soft compared to Ned’s and she wore underpants covered in small blue cats.
‘Watch this!’ Ned pulled up his drooping undies, then leaped from the tree with a great splash. He trod water, looking over at Adie and Quinn.
Quinn swam beside Adie as she dog-paddled towards the pontoon. She was a weaker swimmer than Ned and her arms and legs moved furiously underwater. As she swam, she watched Ned with that serious gaze and Quinn could tell that Ned found the intensity of her attention unsettling. Ned trod water, waiting for her to reach him, his smile flickering, then he sank underwater.
Adie slid underwater too and they waved at each other, bubbles slipping from their grinning mouths, their skin a greenish colour.
Quinn swam to the tree trunk and watched them as they hung on to the edge of the pontoon.
‘Do you have a pool at your house?’ asked Ned.
‘No.’
‘Where did you learn to swim?’
‘At the swimming teacher’s pool. Mummy takes me to classes.’
Quinn glanced over to Marianna, who was staring at him. He looked away.
Ned and Adie paddled with the boogie board over to the niche in the wall, where they poked around. Quinn swam back to shore. The sun had dropped. It must be late afternoon. He dried himself with his t-shirt and went to stand near Marianna. The kids were climbing up onto the boogie board and tipping, laughing, into the water. ‘They’re having a good time together,’ he said.
‘Yes.’
‘Did you and Rachel talk?’
‘Yes.’ She didn’t look at him.
‘I wish you’d told me you were coming,’ he said.
She shrugged. ‘It was a spur of the moment thing. Adie kept wanting to know where you live.’ She paused. ‘And why this is so much better than the life you had with us.’
‘That’s you talking, not her.’
‘Ask her, Quinn.’ She looked at him, her eyes cold.
‘She’s five, Marianna. You can’t talk to her about this like she’s an adult.’
‘You’d just rather imagine that she’s fine with all this. You’re like those doctors who think babies don’t feel pain. Do you really think she doesn’t feel this as hard as me? She’s been lied to her entire life.’ She shook her head. ‘Children understand lying and secrets very well. Just think of yourself at five.’
He could hear that she was close to tears. Adie looked across at them and launched away from Ned and paddled towards shore, her head straining up out of the water.
‘So if she’s struggling so much, why come out here today like this, without letting us prepare for it?’ He took a breath. ‘We need to think of her.’
‘What? Think of her like you’ve always done?’
‘I know. I know.’
‘Any pain she’s feeling now is simply a product of you failing to take her into account years ago.’
‘I didn’t fail to take her into account. Not at all. I wanted her to have a father.’
She spat the words out. ‘If you were so unhappy with me, why not say so? Why not just leave? That would have been hard but at least truthful.’
‘I was trying my best, Marianna.’
‘Really? That was your best? You’re fucking kidding me.’
‘I wanted Adie to have a father. A family.’
‘And that was more important than me knowing the truth about things?’
‘It felt like it at the time.’
‘Oh, that is such bullshit.’ Her voice dropped. ‘You know you should have told me.’
‘At which point, Marianna? You seem to assume there was some perfectly clear moment for me to tell you, some morally unequivocal point in time –’
‘Yes. That’s right. Before you had sex with her.’
‘Well, that would have been before you were pregnant with Adie. If I’d done that, we wouldn’t have Adie.’
‘Don’t use that to justify your behaviour.’ She slid off the boulder and crossed the rocks to the water’s edge where Adie stood, dripping and shivering.
•
Adie sat on Quinn’s shoulders and Ned strode beside them, chattering about showing Adie the stars from Mighty Rock. Clearly Adie and Ned had talked about her staying the night. Quinn could hear Marianna walking behind him. There was no way he could have her in the house overnight.
Adie rubbed her hands through his hair and jiggled about on his shoulders. If he did speak to Adie like an adult, what would he say? He’d confess that he had failed to be honest, that he had waited far too long to tell her the truth and that he was terrified that his failure had damaged her. He’d tell her that now they were living apart, his anxiety at times reached an almost unbearable pitch.
Ned and Adie sang over and over, ‘Mighty Rock. Migh-igh-igh-ighty Rock.’ They reached the now-shady lawn at the front of the house. There was no sign of Rachel.
‘Let’s get you down, Adie.’ He reached up.
‘No.’
‘My back can’t take it, sweetie.’
‘No!’ She gripped his neck with her thighs.
Ned picked up his cow skull and carried it over to them. ‘Have a look at this, Adie.’
Marianna stroked Adie’s leg, ‘It’s time for us to go, sweetie.’
‘No!’ she yelled. ‘You can’t make me!’ She pulled hard on his hair.
‘Ow! Adie, you’re hurting me!’ He reached up to grab her around the ribs and get her down, but she writhed away from him and started falling. Unbalanced, he grabbed at her and caught one of her legs as it slipped over his shoulder. They fell and he landed painfully on an elbow as he tried to keep her from hitting the ground. She was all tangled up in him, kicking and yelling. ‘Let go of me! Let go of me!’ He tried to contain her flailing legs and arms but she thrashed harder and harder, crying and yelling, snot coming from her nose, her mouth a cavern. She clawed at the grass and banged her head on the g
round.
‘Stop, Adie, stop. That’s enough.’ He grabbed at her.
She seemed possessed, slapping her head with her hands and letting out a terrible keening sound. He scrabbled to stop her hitting herself and she bit his forearm. He let go and sat back on his heels.
Ned was watching, his eyes wide, the skull cradled in his arms. Rachel appeared and steered him up the stairs into the house, but he kept turning back to watch Adie.
Marianna put her arms around her daughter and just held her. ‘I know. I know,’ she crooned.
Adie sobbed, a bloody scratch on one cheek, her face smeared with dirt. ‘I hate him. I hate you both.’
‘And we love you. We will always love you.’
Quinn sat back on the grass, horror-struck. Adie looked like an animal caught in a trap. And what was she trying to escape? This life he had forced upon her. If she had known from birth, then it simply would have been how her life was, instead of this.
Adie lay over Marianna’s lap, still crying, snot trailing from her nose. He wanted to go to her, but he couldn’t move. This was his fault. He had made her feel that pain. She was a small wounded animal and Marianna was the one steady and calm enough to hold and comfort her. She trusted Marianna and not Quinn.
The sun dropped behind the mountain as Marianna gathered her daughter’s limp body closer. It made him think of Michelangelo’s Pietà and a chill entered him. The Pietà. A mother cradling her child’s body; no father to be seen.
Chapter Forty-seven
Rachel went out to where Ned stood at the verandah railing. ‘Come back inside, Noodle. Let them be.’
Ned’s face was pale. ‘What’s wrong with her?’
‘I think it’s hard for her to see where her daddy lives now.’
She shepherded him inside. He leaned on the table and rubbed his finger over a spot on the wood. ‘She was eating dirt.’
‘I know.’ Rachel had felt horrified admiration watching Adie let loose; she wished she’d been able to do that as a kid. Then she’d caught a glimpse of the look on Quinn’s face and just wanted to go and hold him. But Marianna was there. It was something between Quinn and Marianna and Adie. Rachel had no part to play.
‘Will you get the seeds from the fridge for me, please?’ she said.
He stood in front of the open fridge and finally reached for the jar of toasted nuts and seeds.
Rachel washed the lettuce and dried it on a tea towel. She heard voices outside and crossed the verandah to look over. Adie lay in her mother’s arms and her parents murmured, their heads close. Adie would always be the glue connecting them. Rachel had known this, but now it was right in front of her to see.
Rachel saw Adie’s forlorn face as the girl stood up. Quinn took her hand and walked with her towards the house, with Marianna following.
•
Rachel pulled two clean towels from the linen cupboard as the kids’ voices echoed from the bathroom. ‘But doesn’t the frog get flushed away?’ said Adie.
Marianna’s reply was indistinct.
Rachel pulled Quinn into their bedroom as Ned called out, ‘Watch! Watch! Watch this, Adie.’
Rachel shut the door. ‘You should have asked me.’
He grimaced. ‘I’m sorry. I didn’t want Adie to feel any kind of hesitation. You saw her.’
‘Yeah. And I saw you and I know this is hard. But this is my home and I want you to consult me.’ She sighed. ‘Back when Adie was born you made a unilateral decision not to tell Marianna, and you just keep making them. I don’t want that. I want consultation.’
‘Okay, you’re right. I’m sorry.’ He was pale and holding his elbow.
‘How will we organise sleeping?’
‘They can sleep on the sofa bed in the sunroom.’ He looked towards a burst of sound from the bathroom. ‘And I’ll sleep on the daybed.’
She stared at him. ‘But your bed is here.’
‘I know.’
‘Is this for Adie or Marianna’s benefit?’
He considered. ‘Both, I guess.’
She sat on the chair, on top of his clothes. ‘It’s just more pretending. That’s your bed right there.’
He sighed. ‘Rachel, please. I know it’s a mess, but I’m trying to make it as painless as possible for Adie.’ They stared at each other. The kids squealed and there was the loud slosh of water escaping the bath.
She nodded, then pointed to his arm. ‘Did you hurt yourself?’
‘Yeah. When I hit the ground.’
Ned shouted in the bathroom.
‘He’s on overdrive,’ said Quinn.
‘I know. That’s another reason it would have been best if they didn’t stay. He’s all manic and . . .’ She blew out a big breath.
‘Maybe one of us should sleep with him.’
She stood up, sighing, lifting her hands into the air. ‘Quinn, really, you sleep where you think is best.’ She walked past the bathroom where Marianna kneeled beside the bath. The two kids were the same size with the same shaped dark wet heads. Marianna seemed like a statue, kneeling on the tiles, her elbows resting on the rim of the bath.
Rachel hadn’t expected Adie and Marianna’s fragility to leave her so shaken. She hadn’t ever let herself think too much about the impact on them. Even Rachel’s desire for the truth to come out had been nothing to do with Marianna. She opened the fridge and pulled out the frittata they hadn’t eaten at lunchtime. Perhaps Marianna was right, that Quinn’s ability to lie and disregard others was hard-wired in him. Was that true of Rachel too, then? After all, she chose to embark on an affair with Quinn, knowing he was married. And how many chances had she had to set things straight, to insist that he bring things into the open? She put the dishes on the table and leaned there, her eyes closed. Was that why she and Quinn had been so drawn to each other, this shared capacity to disregard others?
Marianna carried Ned through the kitchen; he was bundled up in a pink towel, his face poking out. ‘Hi, Mummy.’
‘Hello, Noodle,’ said Rachel. Marianna kept her eyes on Ned, a stiff smile on her face.
Ned pointed to the verandah and said to Marianna, ‘Let’s go and watch the bats.’ Marianna opened the screen door with her hip.
Rachel had noticed Marianna’s beauty when she’d met her over the fence years ago, but the thing she noticed now was the way Marianna moved through space with the ease of a woman born to beauty. She looked out to where Marianna was silhouetted against the sky, Ned still in her arms. The bats streamed silently overhead and Rachel felt an awful certainty that Quinn would never be fully with her. He was still splitting himself between the two families and now his wife and daughter were in Rachel’s home. She would never know the simple joy of ordinary family life.
Rachel poured herself a glass of wine. She should offer Marianna a glass – she surely needed one – but Quinn could get it. They were his guests.
Adie appeared wearing a pair of Quinn’s boxer shorts with the drawstring pulled tight. Quinn followed and said to Rachel, ‘Can I do something for dinner?’
‘No. It’s all done.’
He nodded and let Adie pull him out to the verandah. He stood beside Marianna while Ned pointed to bats and made loud squeaking noises. Watching Quinn and Marianna standing side by side, Rachel felt a hot flash of fear that things weren’t over between them, that he’d slept with Marianna when he was last in Brisbane and that things might go on as before, except that Rachel would be the one lied to. Was this what happened when a relationship was built on untruths? You could never trust.
Chapter Forty-eight
Quinn opened the fridge door and reached for the lemon dressing. The jar was oily and nearly slipped from his fingers. He turned and grabbed a tea towel from the bench and wiped the jar. He felt Marianna watching him from where she leaned against the wall by the dresser. She’d be noticing how well he knew his way around this kitchen. How at home he was.
‘Do you want a glass of wine, Marianna?’ he said.
She nodded and tu
rned to look at Adie, who kneeled beside Ned in the hallway, poking a finger into a hole in the skirting boards.
Rachel clunked the wooden salad bowl onto the table. ‘Ned, can you and Adie come to the table, please?’
Ned took Adie’s arm as they stood up and led her to a chair. ‘Here you go. You sit here.’ His hair hung damply over his bare shoulders. ‘Did you know I have a flying fox? You know, one of those things you hang on to and it zooms –’
Adie interrupted him. ‘Do you? A flying fox?’ She turned to Quinn, wide-eyed.
‘Clarrie built it for him.’ Quinn poured Marianna a glass of white wine and passed it to her. ‘Okay, you two. Let’s get you some salad before we dress it.’
‘Who’s Clarrie?’ said Adie.
‘Clarrie has skinks,’ Ned said.
Rachel used a knife to slide a piece of frittata onto Adie’s place. ‘Skinks are lizards,’ she said with a smile.
Adie said, ‘I know that.’
Quinn had a flash of his girl clawing at the dirt and hammering her forehead on the ground. That was what she felt inside, all that desperation and self-loathing. It was him she should be loathing.
Rachel passed Marianna a plate with frittata on it and gently pushed the salad bowl towards her.
Ned spoke through a mouthful of salad. ‘Baby skinks. He’s going to give me one. They’re this big.’ He held his fingers a few centimetres apart.
Quinn sat down and took a big sip of wine. He was not hungry.
Marianna said, ‘We can build you a flying fox, Adie.’ Her voice was bright and trembly.
Adie’s face lit up. ‘From the treehouse to the backyard?’
‘Yeah.’ Marianna nodded. ‘I’ll get that handyman guy to build it. Steve or Simon or whatever. Grandpa can design it for you.’ Quinn could hardly bear to look at Marianna, sitting there, a smile stretched over her face, trying to make things okay for their girl.
Beside Quinn, Rachel was eating mechanically, her knife and fork clinking on the plate. She reached over to the salad bowl, picked something from a lettuce leaf and flicked it into the compost bucket behind her on the bench.
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