‘It’s only an award presentation, isn’t it? Why would Audrey be so nervous about that?’
Charlotte nearly kicked herself. She’d forgotten that Audrey – for some inexplicable but undoubtedly dramatic, self-obsessed reason – was still keeping her acting debut secret from the rest of the family.
‘She just is,’ she improvised. ‘And I’m backing her all the way. If Audrey’s big night is upset in any way, I swear I’ll stop her from going home ever again too.’
Henry laughed that night when Eleanor recounted her conversation with Charlotte. ‘Get a babysitter? She was joking, Eleanor. Hope is thirty-six years old. She’s not a toddler we’re trying to keep away from the poisons cupboard.’
‘No? She’s not far off from being a toddler sometimes. The tantrums. The selfishness. The noise.’ Eleanor ran her fingers through her hair. ‘Oh, she’s better, Henry, she is. The new tablets, being sober, all the talking we did, but she’s still angry at me.’
‘Why? Because you let her come back here? You should be angry with her.’
‘You know she’s always felt I got all the good things in life and she was left with the dregs. That I have it easy. Oh, yes, very easy, trying to stay above all that is going on, keep this business afloat, teach Spencer and Gracie, handle Charlotte and her temper, Audrey and her pipedreams. I really have it easy. How dare she, Henry? Hasn’t she taken even a second to see what my life is like, how she makes it even more difficult? Of course she hasn’t. Because since the moment she was born it’s only ever been about her and I’m so sick and tired of it.’
‘Then why did you bring her back here, Eleanor?’ His voice was quiet.
‘Because she begged me, Henry. Begged me. And because I never want anyone else to go through the guilt I went through, finding her passed out after that overdose, thinking she was dead and it was my fault. She’s my sister. My only sister. How could I say no?’
Henry didn’t answer, just took his wife’s hand and absentmindedly stroked it. There was silence for a few minutes before he spoke. ‘Charlotte’s right, though. I don’t think it’s a good idea if Hope comes to Audrey’s presentation. I’ll stay here with her.’
‘You can’t. Audrey would be devastated. She’s insisting we all be there.’
‘Surely we could leave Hope on her own just for one night? It’s mid-week. There shouldn’t be any visitors. We could lock the front gate if we had to.’
‘And make it harder for the police or the ambulance to get through if she did something stupid again, like cut herself or throw herself down the stairs? We can’t do that either.’
‘I do have a small idea. Maybe it’s asking too much, maybe it’s out of the question, but maybe not, just for one night.’
Eleanor protested about his suggestion at first, then listened some more, then finally agreed that it was worth exploring, if nothing else.
‘But I’ll go and do the asking,’ Eleanor said, looking tired and sad. ‘It’s only fair. She’s my sister.’
At least this time there’d been a chance to tidy up a little bit, Nina thought the following morning. Eleanor Templeton had phoned the night before to ask if she could call over. The house was now tidy, there was a tray of tea things ready in the kitchen and Nina had changed into a dress rather than the painting outfit she normally wore each day.
Eleanor arrived at exactly ten o’clock. Nina noticed immediately that she shared none of her younger sister’s imperious behaviour. There was something gentle about her. Even her looks were softer than her sister’s. Hope was all sharp angles, tilted chin, fast movements, her clothes tailored and expensive. Eleanor’s face was rounder, prettier, her expression more guarded, her summer dress elegant but clearly well-worn. Nina glanced down. Eleanor was wearing an ordinary pair of sandals, stylish but showing wear, a long way from her sister’s impractical red shoes.
‘Thank you, Nina. I appreciate this.’ Eleanor’s voice was also different to Hope’s: low, even, without Hope’s dramatic tones. She’d barely taken her seat before she began talking. ‘Nina, we don’t know each other well enough, or know each other at all, so there’s no point in me making polite conversation or pretending this is a social call.’ Eleanor laughed softly. ‘Well, it is a social call, and I’m trying to make it as normal as possible, because it’s quite an awkward situation. I’m also sorry I haven’t called over to thank you before now.’
At Nina’s clearly puzzled expression, she hurried on. ‘About us borrowing your Tom. I can’t tell you the difference it’s made to Spencer. It’s been different with each of the children, you see. We lived in cities with Charlotte and Audrey when they were being home-schooled, and so they were able to make friends with their neighbours. And Gracie, well, as you may have discovered, Gracie is an unusual child. If she hasn’t a friend nearby, she’s just as happy to talk to a leaf or a passing cloud. And we assumed it would be the same with Spencer, that he’d be happy in his own company, especially once we arrived here with so much space and land. But it’s true, isn’t it, that the devil makes work for idle hands? Did you find that with Tom? But of course you didn’t. Tom has beautiful manners. He’s a credit to you. I only hope Spencer isn’t having a bad effect on him. You haven’t noticed Tom becoming wilder by the day?’
It was quite a speech and Nina liked her more for every word. ‘Not so far, no. He’s always too full of praise for Spencer and Templeton Hall. It’s when they go quiet on us that we should worry, I think.’
Eleanor smiled, then shifted position. ‘Nina, I’m actually here to talk to you about Hope. My sister. I’m not sure what, if anything, you know about her.’
Nina tensed, hoping immediately it hadn’t been too obvious. ‘Not much. Only what she told me herself, and a little from Henry and Gra—’
‘What she told you herself?’
‘She came here one night. About a month ago. Just before she went to England with you.’
Eleanor ran her hand through her hair. A piece was left standing up. Another time Nina might have found it comical but now it just made Eleanor seem more vulnerable.
‘I’m so sorry, Nina. Do you mind telling me what she said? How she was?’
Nina hesitated, not sure where to start. She explained how Hope had appeared at her door, how she’d asked for a drink and begun to talk. ‘She seemed to have a few …’ She tried to find the right word, ‘grievances she needed to get off her chest.’
‘Nina, please don’t feel awkward. I know that Hope gets it into her head sometimes that she and Henry had a long and torrid affair. It’s not true. I’d be quite sure that nothing she told you was true. That time, before we went back to England, was a particularly – how can I put it? – troubled period for her. Can I also assure you that no, she isn’t Gracie’s real mother, that no, Spencer isn’t adopted, Charlotte isn’t a recovering drug addict and Audrey doesn’t have a fatal disease and less than two months to live.’ Eleanor registered Nina’s expression and gave a soft laugh. ‘Oh, dear. Am I right in guessing that Hope didn’t get to those and I’ve just opened a Pandora’s box myself?’
At Nina’s nod, Eleanor ran her fingers through her hair again. The errant lock dropped into place. ‘At least now you’ll be prepared for it if you do hear it. Can I ask how you managed to get her home that night? None of us were even aware she’d gone missing.’
‘I didn’t take her home,’ Nina said, surprised that Eleanor didn’t know. Surely she’d have heard about a visit from a police sergeant. Nina had delivered Hope into his not exactly welcoming care that evening. ‘I did as she asked, drove her to the Castlemaine police station. She’d got quite, um, agitated about people stealing her plants and wanted to press charges. The sergeant told me he’d take care of things.’
‘Oh, God, so now the whole town knows. It’s hard enough —’ She stopped. ‘Sorry, Nina. I’m sorry you had to put up with that. I wish I’d known. Henry said he visited here while I was away to talk about Tom but he didn’t mention anything about Hope visiting you.’
‘I didn’t tell him. It didn’t seem right, in front of the children and then —’
‘Of course. Spencer cut his hand. Thank you for your discretion. In light of that, I think I may as well go home without asking you what I’d come to ask. You’ve already seen Hope in full flight. I’m sure it’s not an experience you’re in any hurry to repeat.’
‘I’m sorry?’
Eleanor looked exhausted. ‘I was here to ask an enormous favour that we as a family have no right to ask. We’ve lived beside you for two years and have never made an effort to call over and meet you before now, so it’s beyond reason that you would even consider it, but we were desperate on behalf of one of our daughters and acted without thinking.’
Nina listened as Eleanor explained about Audrey’s school event in Melbourne and the family’s fear about bringing Hope with them.
‘There are times when we wouldn’t worry about leaving Hope on her own for a night …’
‘But this isn’t one of those times?’
‘I’m embarrassed to even ask, and babysitting isn’t the right word.’
‘Would I just keep an eye on her for the night, do you mean?’
‘That’s it, exactly. But, Nina, I can see from your face how you feel, and I understand, and I hope this won’t have any bearing on Tom’s visits to us —’
‘Would you want me to watch her at Templeton Hall or here?’
‘You’d even consider it?’
‘I spent my teenage years working as a babysitter. I’m guessing Hope and I don’t both get to stay up until midnight and eat as many snacks as I did back then, though?’
‘You’d do it? Really?’ Eleanor’s face changed, became younger, more carefree, in an instant. ‘Oh, Nina. Thank you.’
Gracie was over within the hour. ‘Nina, thank you! Mum couldn’t believe it. I heard her calling to Dad as soon as she got home. “She said yes! She’ll do it!” Hope heard her, of course, and there was a huge row, but Dad was so quick-thinking, he said it wasn’t Hope you would be minding, it was Templeton Hall. They said that they felt it wasn’t fair to leave her with so much responsibility, that if she wanted to have an early night, it was better to have someone else there. So when you come, Mum is going to ask you to pretend that it’s all about the Hall, not Hope. I thought I’d warn you now so that you could get your expression ready. Thanks again, Nina!’ With a cheery farewell wave, Gracie let herself out again.
At their boarding school in Melbourne, Audrey and Charlotte were in Charlotte’s room, arguing. They’d been arguing about the same subject for the past two days.
‘But it’s not fair. You have to let me come,’ Audrey said again, close to tears now.
‘No, I don’t, actually,’ Charlotte answered. ‘And it’s not about being fair. I’ve got your wellbeing at heart, Audrey. You told me yourself you need to learn your lines. That this is the performance that might change the course of your life. A weekend away with my friends is the very last thing you should be doing.’
‘I know my lines perfectly already. Oh, please, let me come.’
‘There’s no point begging. I’m not going to change my mind. This isn’t just an outing. I need to do some serious networking. Now I can’t go back to Templeton Hall for weekends, I need a lot of friends with large weekender homes, very quickly.’
‘You are so selfish. It’s always about you, isn’t it?’
‘If it wasn’t about me, it would have to be about you, and quite frankly I’m much more interesting,’ Charlotte said, lifting down her suitcase from the wardrobe.
‘You’re a bitch, Charlotte Templeton. A selfish, self-centred bitch.’
Charlotte put her hands on her hips. ‘You’re one to talk. Who brags about nothing but her so far unproven acting career or her stupid artistic spirit, spends hours each day gazing in the mirror and is, in my opinion, becoming completely and utterly obsessed with herself?’
‘You just don’t understand how it feels to be sensitive, do you? How much I hurt inside sometimes. You’re just mean, you know that? Mean. Mean and bitter and a horrible selfish cow.’
‘And I love you too,’ Charlotte said, not looking up as her sister flounced out of the room.
By nine o’clock the next night Charlotte was wishing she had let Audrey come with her. At least she could have bribed her sister to use her alleged acting skills to fake a stomach ache or migraine and given her an excuse to leave this excruciatingly boring party.
It was being held in a large, luxurious split-level house in the exclusive Melbourne beachside suburb of Brighton. Celia’s cousin from America was sub-letting the property while he was here on holiday, or something like that. Charlotte hadn’t really been listening. Celia had promised her it would be filled to the brim with family friends and eligible bachelors, the wealthy sons of even wealthier property barons. Farm boys, in other words. All Charlotte had seen so far was an endless parade of cartoon cut-out boys. Boys, not men. They were all dressed alike, in moleskin trousers, pale-blue shirts, jumpers tied casually around their necks. They had ruddy faces, sunburnt arms and zero conversational skills. If she’d wanted to learn so much about the Australian farming industry, she’d have gone to agricultural college. At least there’d have been a degree at the end of it. If the amount she was drinking to stave away the boredom tonight was any indication, the only thing she’d have to show for this tedious evening was a bad hangover tomorrow.
‘… largest in the state, ten thousand head of cattle and cropping too, of course.’
Of course, Charlotte thought, so bored she was astonished she was keeping her eyes open. She glanced around for Celia. She was in a corner of the room, gazing up at another young man, either very interested in everything he was saying or very good at pretending.
‘And your family?’
‘Sorry?’ Charlotte said, dragging her attention back to the man beside her.
‘Your family’s on the land?’
‘We walk on it every day, yes.’
He didn’t get her joke. ‘Where’s your property?’
‘North.’
‘Of where?’
‘Here,’ Charlotte said. ‘Excuse me, would you?’ She crossed the room, moving swiftly between the different groups, catching snippets of conversation, each more land-obsessed than the other. She didn’t even try to be polite by the time she reached Celia, taking her forcibly by the arm and moving her away from her still-talking new friend.
‘Charlotte! What are you —’
‘Sorry, Celia, but I’ve never been so bored in my life.’
‘He’s just asked me out! Next weekend!’
‘To what, a shearing demonstration?’
‘Yes, actually. Are you coming too?’
‘Forget it,’ Charlotte said. ‘Go back to him. I’ll talk to you later.’
If only this was the movies, Charlotte thought, as she stood outside on the balcony on her own. If this was on screen, a handsome man, her intellectual equal, would follow her out now, light her cigarette with an expensive silver lighter and an expert touch, engage her in witty, flirtatious conversation and the two of them would fall instantly in love.
‘Are you here on your own?’
She spun around. There was no one there. She looked down. Yes, there was. A boy. Seven or eight years old. Younger than Spencer, anyway. He was holding something in his right hand. For a moment she thought it was a cigarette lighter and nearly laughed.
‘Yes, I am,’ she said. ‘Are you?’
He gestured back into the room. ‘My dad’s in there somewhere.’
‘What’s that accent of yours?’ Charlotte said. ‘American or Canadian?’
‘American,’ the boy said. ‘Want to play Space Invaders with me?’
Oh, why not? Charlotte thought. It was better than anything else on offer here tonight.
‘Sure,’ she said. ‘But you better watch out. I’ll murder you.’
In the train on the way back to their boarding school the next
day, Celia didn’t hesitate to let Charlotte know how unhappy she was. ‘I invited you to do some serious matchmaking with the right sort of person, not fix you up with my ancient cousin’s seven-year-old son,’ Celia said. ‘What a waste of a weekend. I was looking for you everywhere last night. And where do I find you? Stuck in front of a TV set with a kid half your age.’
‘Nearly a third of my age, actually. Ethan’s a great kid. You should be proud of him. He beat the pants off me at Space Invaders as well.’ Charlotte looked more closely at her friend. ‘You’re seriously mad at me, aren’t you?’
‘Of course I am. All the trouble I went to, inviting all the right people, the right guys, and you didn’t even try to talk to them.’
‘It wasn’t a waste for you, meeting Mr Sheepdip 1993. And it wasn’t a waste for me either. I think Ethan and I have a very happy future ahead of us.’
Celia started to thaw. ‘He’s fallen in love with you, you know. I was talking to his father this morning. Apparently Ethan didn’t shut up about you all night.’
Charlotte grinned. ‘There. See? I was a hit.’
‘With a kid, Charlotte. A little kid.’ Celia pulled out a magazine, opening it with a sharp, cross flick. ‘Next time, lift your sights a little higher, would you? A little older, even.’
‘Next time? I thought you’d washed your hands of me.’
‘Not yet. You get one more chance.’
‘I do? When?’
‘Next weekend. I can’t believe I’m saying this, but Ethan’s invited you to his eighth birthday party. As his guest of honour.’
CHAPTER ELEVEN
She was going to be sick, Audrey knew it. She was going to be physically sick, on her costume, on her shoes, on the floor. She couldn’t do it. She couldn’t go out there.
At Home with the Templetons Page 16
