Nolan looked surprised. He only smoked occasionally and neither of their parents had ever approved. In fact, they mostly liked to pretend it wasn’t happening. But the tone of Chris’s voice had even Therese complying, and she reluctantly left the table with Nolan, heading for the balcony.
Speedy saw them leave and strode over to the table. ‘Would we like the bill?’ he asked.
‘No thanks, mate, but we will take the dessert menus.’ Chris dismissed Speedy with a nod of his head and looked across at Poppy. ‘I know you always do your best to tolerate your mum and I think it’s very sweet of you. But I could see it was getting to you tonight, more than usual. Fed up?’ he asked.
‘A little, I guess.’
‘She’ll get there, eventually. She just wants you to be happy and she’s worried. She’s mad as hell with Garret.’
‘But she doesn’t say that. She doesn’t even mention his name. It’s almost as if she’s more upset about me not having children than my husband cheating on me and leaving.’ Poppy’s voice cracked on the last word and Chris gave her a look that told her his heart was breaking right alongside her own. ‘Ah, Popsy,’ he said, reverting to her childhood nickname and reaching across the table to tuck a loose lock of hair behind her ear. ‘I can’t tell you how much I want to ring that bastard’s neck for hurting you. I know your mum doesn’t seem to be saying the right things, but it’s just her way. She can’t fix what happened with Garret so she’s trying to find something she can fix.’
‘Dad, my life choices don’t need fixing.’
‘I know. But she worries that one day you’ll change your mind and it’ll be too late.’ He hesitated. ‘I’ll talk to her,’ he promised.
* * *
Later that night Poppy posted on NOP.
Anyone else have trouble convincing friends or family that you don’t ever want to have kids? My mother is driving me up the wall. It doesn’t seem to matter what I say or how many times I say it – she’s certain I’m lying or that I’m in denial or whatever. Any tips on how to make her understand once and for all would be greatly appreciated!
Within seconds Facebook notified Poppy that several people had already commented on her post.
Nicole – Have the same exact issue with my little sister. She has two of her own and every time I’m around her and the kids I catch her looking at me with these guilty puppy-dog eyes, like she feels terrible for beating me to it. As if procreation is a race that’s supposed to be won. Unfortunately, I still haven’t been able to make her understand that she has no reason to feel sorry for me cause I’m actually perfectly happy.
Marns – For me my family got it straightaway. They were like, oh yeah, you never were a kid person, even when you were a kid! So I can’t really help you but I get it must suck.
Bette – Honey, my family didn’t accept it ’til I hit menopause! But here’s a thought for you – perhaps your mother is craving grandchildren?
Jess – Don’t know. Don’t care. Lol. More importantly, someone in this group told me the best place to buy fluffy handcuffs recently and I can’t remember who it was – but anyway, thanks for the tip! Now I’m after recommendations for a good hotel in the city to spend a night with my husband. Somewhere with a real sexy vibe if you know what I mean?
Marns – @Jess, when you say sexy – do you mean like mirrors on the ceiling? Or less tacky? Anyway, PM me.
Poppy – Jeez @Jess, thanks for your support!! LOL!
Viv – You know what’s absolutely ridiculous about this? The fact that it’s even an issue! It shouldn’t even be a flicker on their radar. For one thing, it’s none of their business, and also, who CARES?! I mean it’s not like you’re asking them to accept your decision to join ISIS, is it? The conversation should go something like this: ‘You reckon you’ll have kids one day?’ ‘Nah, don’t want to.’ ‘Fair enough. Hey, want a game of tennis?’ Right?!
Viv’s comment particularly resonated with Poppy. Exactly! She thought. She flicked a reply to her.
Yes! You’re so right. Why does it matter? Did you have trouble convincing your family?
Viv’s response shot back:
TBH, I’m not close with my parents, so there was no opportunity to see either way how they’d react.
Poppy took the conversation to private message and sent her another question:
You married? Can’t remember if you’ve mentioned a husband before.
Yeah. Tied the knot thirteen years back.
Was your husband always on board with your choice not to have kids?
We seem to be on the same page on most things, which I guess is lucky. Yours messed you around with that, hey?
The comment surprised Poppy. She’d talked about her divorce within the NOP group before, but she didn’t think she’d ever discussed the circumstances of Garret changing his mind about wanting kids. She wondered if that meant there were some secret discussions going on between NOP members behind her back.
What do you mean? She flicked back.
Oh, I just heard your partner really let you down over the whole ‘to have or not to have’ kids debate. Sorry – shouldn’t have overstepped.
It clicked for Poppy – Annalise would have been the one to share. Not because she was into gossip, but because she was genuinely pissed with Garret for what he’d done.
It’s okay. I’m guessing I know who’s been chatting about it. Annalise. She can’t help it, she wants to stick up for me all the time and that includes the need to bad-mouth my ex at any given opportunity.
Ha! Yeah I think it was Annalise who mentioned the issues. She seems like a great friend to you. Anyway, I’ll let you get on with your Tuesday night. Nice chatting.
You too.
CHAPTER 5
Poppy and Annalise stood together with the rest of their team in the middle of the field, facing their opposition, the Granville Raiders. After all of their pre-season training, it was finally time for the first game. Following on from another warm autumn day, the night air was now cool and crisp. Rain had been forecast, but so far it had held off and Poppy hoped it would continue to do so until the end of the game. The referee – a boy who couldn’t have been older than fifteen – had gathered them together and was listing his rules in a wobbly, pubescent voice that skated between high-pitched squeaks and low rumbles. Poor kid, thought Poppy, he’s probably terrified of telling a bunch of older women what to do.
Poppy was feeling great. Annalise wasn’t lying when she said she was a decent player, and throughout their training sessions their team had been working really well together. They were in with a good chance of continuing with their winning streak from last season.
The ref flipped a coin to determine which team would kick off and then Granville’s captain stepped forward. ‘All right, ladies, let’s keep it friendly, hey? We’re all mums, most of us have jobs, and no one wants to cop any injuries.’
Poppy stiffened. She was about to say something but Annalise beat her to it. ‘Speak for yourself, mate, just because it’s the over thirty-fives doesn’t mean all of us have kids.’ She slung an arm around Poppy’s shoulder.
The captain raised her eyebrows and looked sideways at her team mates, amused. ‘Yeah, all right, not everyone, but let’s still keep it friendly, eh?’
‘Are we here to play soccer or have a social?’ Annalise said. ‘I say go hard or go home.’
The captain laughed. ‘Righto,’ she said. ‘Whatever you say.’
There were nervous giggles from women on both sides and Poppy wondered if Annalise had just set them up for a rough game. A player standing to the left of the captain caught Poppy’s eye. Poppy knew what was coming.
Don’t do it, don’t do it, do not do it.
The woman tilted her head just slightly to the left, pursed her lips, crinkled her nose and lifted her eyebrows.
BAM.
She did it. She fucking well did it.
The sympathy look. It was clear as day and Poppy wanted to slap the silly puppy-dog expre
ssion right off her face.
I do not need your pity. Poppy clenched her jaw and then checked herself. Hold up, Poppy, you don’t actually know for a fact that’s what she’s thinking.
But why else would she be throwing her that look?
The two teams separated and spread out to take their positions. Poppy’s place was in the goals, while Annalise as striker was going to be up front, so she squeezed Annalise’s arm before heading to her box. ‘Hey, thanks for standing up for me.’
Annalise shook her head. ‘I was standing up for both of us,’ she replied. ‘And now we’re going to kick their butts.’
‘Sounds like a plan.’
For the first twenty minutes of the game, Poppy was afforded far too much thinking time. True to her word, Annalise was going hard, and the rest of their team seemed to be following suit. Rowena, who was an ex-premier-league player, was up front with her, and while the two of them hadn’t been able to put away a goal yet, they were keeping the ball in the top half at least ninety percent of the time.
‘Oy, Poppy!’ a voice shouted from the sideline. ‘Stay sharp, you look like you’re about to fall asleep out there.’
The voice belonged to their coach. Elle had been training Poppy’s team for several years and she took the competition extremely seriously. To Elle, soccer was life. Skipping training was the sporting equivalent of blasphemy. Not pulling your weight on the field was the ultimate betrayal of your team mates. If you missed a game, you needed to be on your deathbed.
‘What do you want me to do?’ Poppy shouted back, ‘run around in circles? They haven’t even let me touch the ball yet.’
Jen, who was in the back line, cut in, ‘You want us to let one through so you can feel needed, Poppy?’
‘Fuck off, Jen!’ Poppy shouted. ‘I’m well needed.’
‘Don’t even think about letting one slip through, Jen,’ Elle called. ‘You just keep doing what you’re doing.’
‘Jesus, Elle, I was joking!’
The best way Poppy could describe Elle was that she was a woman with presence. She was actually younger than the players – in her late twenties – and she always wore the same jersey, the same shorts, the same baseball cap hiding her hair and pulled down low so it was hard to see her eyes. Yet she had a way of commanding complete attention with ease.
Elle was distracted then by Annalise and Rowena, who were making yet another play for the goal. They lost their chance and Poppy saw Elle burying her face in her hands. To Elle, every moment of every game might as well have been the final thirty seconds of the grand final. Any missed opportunity was a calamity. Last season Jen had taken a photo of Elle standing on the sideline mid-game and posted it to Facebook with the caption, ‘My dream is to find a man who looks at me the same way Elle looks at a soccer ball.’
Poppy had to admit, she admired Elle for her passion.
By half-time they were still drawn at nil-all. Elle gathered them together for a pep-talk and someone sent a bag of lollies around the group for an energy boost. A light rain began to fall and Poppy folded her arms tightly and jogged on the spot. She loved being a goalie, but if no one was taking any shots at her, it was hard to keep warm or energised.
‘Right,’ said Elle, ‘what’s happening out there? You guys have had so many chances to score but for some reason you’re not following it through. Rowena, I reckon you need to get out of your own head, you’re over-thinking. Annalise, you’re the opposite. You need to slow down and start thinking. During training, almost all of your shots were on point. Your aim is usually incredible. You’ve got fucking mad skills.’
Poppy saw Annalise’s cheeks flush pink in a very uncharacteristic moment of embarrassed pride and her eyes shone in a way Poppy had never witnessed before. Elle continued on.
‘But tonight, you’re all over the shop. Actually, you know what? I’m gonna shake things up a bit. Poppy, let’s take you out of goals and put you up front.’
Poppy let her mouth drop open. ‘Elle,’ she said, ‘I’m the goalie, I’m always the goalie, you can’t take me out of there.’
‘I can do whatever I want. Anyway, it’ll give you a chance to get some action. Annalise and Rowena, I’m dropping both of you down to the back line.’ She went on to redistribute the rest of the team and most of them nodded their assent before breaking apart to grab drink bottles and re-wrap bad knees and ankles before the whistle blew for the second half.
Annalise pulled Poppy aside. ‘Has Elle lost her mind? She’s going to have the team in a mess, everyone will be lost.’
Poppy threw her hands up as if to say, “Your guess is as good as mine”. Then she said, ‘Hopefully there’s method to her madness.’
Annalise didn’t look convinced and Poppy sensed she was annoyed at being made to drop back when she’d been so close to scoring.
In the second half of the game things started out poorly. Mixing up their positions took them out of their comfort zones. They all had to focus more and work harder in order to play their part. Granville took advantage of the chaos and managed to break through for a shot at the goal, but Jen put in a good effort and was able to save it. Another ten minutes in, they started to get used to their positions and hold their own while the rain grew heavier, cutting down on visibility. The two teams were fairly evenly matched though, and as the time continued to tick by, Poppy was beginning to think they were doomed to finish the game without a single goal.
With less than two minutes left, Annalise made a great tackle and brought the ball up on the right-hand side. Then the mid-field passed it through right in front of Poppy. She found herself with a clear run at the goal.
She started sprinting and her legs protested, reminding her that running wasn’t her forte. Now she appreciated the steady rainfall that was keeping her cool, even if the pitch was becoming slippery. The ball was slick but she was managing to keep it close. Her chest tightened and her lungs burned.
She could hear Elle on the sideline screaming at her. ‘Take the shot! TAKE IT NOW!’
She wanted to follow Elle’s instructions – Elle was the coach and so she wanted to do right by the team and listen to her. But at the same time, Granville’s goalie was coming out to meet her and Poppy wasn’t sure she’d be able to get the ball by her. She knew Carmen was backing her up, so she veered left, drawing the goalie over to the side, and passed it off to Carmen who placed in neatly into the back right-hand corner of the net.
The whistle blew for the end of the match and Carmen whooped and ran over to hug Poppy, followed closely by several other team mates who tackled the both of them almost to the ground in celebration.
Back on the sidelines, Elle approached Poppy and pulled her aside. ‘How come you didn’t take the shot?’ she asked.
Poppy hesitated. ‘Because it wasn’t the right call.’
Elle stared back at her and Poppy waited to be told off. But then Elle smiled. ‘You’ve changed lately,’ she said. ‘I like it.’
CHAPTER 6
The pub was packed, and the crowd was noticeably skewed towards soccer players who’d come in for a post-match drink. It made Poppy feel a lot less self-conscious about the fact they were both still in their sweaty soccer gear, although Annalise looked annoyingly hot in her footy shorts, her small frame swamped by a baggy Macquarie University jumper, her socks pulled up to her knees. As they searched for a table, Poppy tried tucking in her shirt, realised she looked like a schoolboy, pulled it back out again, and accepted that she would never look as cute as her friend.
She hoped a couple of drinks might lighten Annalise’s mood. As much as she knew Annalise was happy with their win, she could also tell she was still disappointed about being pulled out of her favourite position as striker. When Elle had taken the time to congratulate Poppy on setting up the goal, she’d noticed Annalise watching them with a strange look on her face. A minute later, she was scribbling furiously in a red notebook, which she quickly stashed in her bag as soon as Poppy approached. She’d considered asking
her what was with the notebook but decided to let it go.
Eventually they snagged a couple of stools at the bar and ordered their first round.
‘I’m calling it now,’ said Annalise, ‘we’re gonna be leaving your car here overnight and Ubering it home.’
‘You know what?’ said Poppy. ‘I’m all in. I want to meet someone tonight.’
Annalise responded with a most un-Annalise-like squeal. ‘Are you serious? Yes! Wait . . . we’re talking one-night stand, yeah? You’re not trying to meet Mr Perfect, right?’
‘Totally talking about a one-nighter.’
‘What’s brought this on?’
Poppy carefully considered her answer before responding. What had brought this on? From the minute they’d met, Annalise had been keen to play wing-man, assuring Poppy it would be the best way to move on from Garret. She was a firm believer in the rebound bang as a crucial part of the recovery process but thus far, Poppy had resisted her attempts to set her up with anyone. So what had changed? Was it the fact that she’d been taken out of her comfort zone at tonight’s game? Was it the way Elle had looked at her afterwards? You’ve changed, she’d said.
Had she changed? Had something shifted?
Or was she just craving an intimate touch? It was coming up to five months since she and Garret had separated. And before that, they hadn’t slept together for several weeks. At the time Poppy had assumed it was because they were tired or busy. It hadn’t occurred to her that it was because Garret was cheating. And how long before then had Garret actually still felt something for her? When was the last time someone had truly wanted her?
It would be nice to feel desired again. Although admittedly, she wasn’t giving herself a fighting chance in this outfit. Too bad – if she went home to shower and change, she’d likely lose her nerve. Besides, her proclamation that it was time to hook up was already pulling Annalise out of her funk, so that was a definite bonus.
Those Other Women Page 6
