At Home with the Templetons

by Monica McInerney

  Families, families, Charlotte thought. What was the saying? Can’t live with them, can’t live without them? She had her own version. Can’t live with them, don’t want to live with them. In the time since she had left Melbourne to come to Chicago she’d seen her family only once a year, sometimes even less than that. Never for Christmas. Not while Hope was still coming to the Templetons for Christmas each year, even when her boyfriend was still alive. Boyfriend? It had always sounded such a juvenile word when the pair of them were so old. Meal-ticket friend might have been a better description, from what Spencer had told Charlotte about Hope’s live-in lover. Rich, dim-witted, new-agey and inexplicably devoted to Hope until the day he suddenly dropped dead.

  Hope or no Hope, the main reason Charlotte hadn’t returned home for turkey and tree-trimming was that Christmas time in Chicago was nanny bonus time. Mr Giles and Ethan always went away for Christmas. Charlotte spread the word around the nanny circles of Chicago that she was available for short-term work over the holiday season. She’d been inundated with high-paying offers. Those fraught Christmases hadn’t done anything to convince her of the positive aspects of marriage and love. She saw more examples of bad marriages in those years than she ever wanted to see again. Couples worse than strangers. Fathers who barely knew their children. Mothers who clearly favoured one child over another, or didn’t seem to like any of their children. Why would her luck be any different? Charlotte asked herself. If she did happen to meet a man, fall in love with him, have children, what was to stop it all falling apart within a few years? In the end, it had been an easy decision. She’d become a businesswoman instead, fulfilled every one of her goals. Not just fulfilled them, she’d surpassed them. Today’s graduation ceremony was just the latest example.

  It was almost two p.m. by the time she shook the final father’s hand, kissed the last mother’s cheek and hugged the final graduate. All twenty-five of them had placements throughout the Midwest. Another successful term under her belt, and a waiting list one-hundred strong – not just for students but potential clients as well. The knowledge gave her satisfaction every day.

  She turned on her phone again as she climbed into the backseat of her car, a black Mercedes-Benz S-Class. This car, and her driver, Dennis, were her one luxury in her business and personal life. It had been Mr Giles’s idea. ‘Think about all the time you spend commuting, all the work you could be doing instead of cursing the traffic and getting stuck in snarls. Your driver equals at least four extra working hours a day.’ He’d been right, of course. She sometimes managed to do more work in the car than she did in two or three days in the office, especially now she had her Blackberry.

  It had made her decision to move out of Chicago to the small, historic town of Woodstock, just over an hour away, an easy one. She actually liked the life of a commuter. Now and then she took the train from Woodstock to Chicago and back, especially in the warmer months when she didn’t mind the walk to the station, but she usually started work so early and stayed in her office so late that getting stuck in rush-hour traffic wasn’t a factor for her – or for Dennis, at least. She occasionally stayed in one of Mr Giles’s investment apartments in Chicago – he always made sure one was available for her use, for the nights she worked back especially late – but she preferred the small-town life of Woodstock on weekends. She liked the feeling she got as she passed the ‘Welcome to Woodstock: A distinctive destination’ sign each evening. She liked the fact that the town had an unusual claim to fame, having been used as a location for the film Groundhog Day. She loved her house, especially. It had taken her only two weekends of touring available properties with a local realtor to find it: a two-storey, two-bedroom wooden stand-alone on the main road into the historic square, with a porch, stained-glass windows and a garden filled with flowers and fruit trees. It was warm in winter, cool in summer, light-filled all year around and just the right size, enough space but easy to keep tidy. It also, very importantly, had a large, modern kitchen. She loved to cook. She loved to eat too, far too much, unfortunately. On the bright side, her excess weight was surprisingly good for business. People liked fat nannies and fat nanny trainers, she’d discovered. Fat nanny trainers with English accents even more. Her voice gave her authority, her width gave her the cuddle factor.

  She mostly kept herself to herself in Woodstock, venturing into the bookshop or one of the cafes or restaurants on the square on weekends if she was in the mood, occasionally attending a concert or play in the old Opera House, talking to her neighbours enough to be polite, but beyond that, happy to keep her own company. She did enough talking at work. She had the best of both worlds this way, she decided. A successful career, a peaceful home life.

  In the back of the car now, she took a sip from the bottle of chilled water Dennis had thoughtfully placed in the leather holder and checked her Blackberry. Fifteen work calls to return and six personal messages waiting for her, as expected – two each from Audrey, Spencer and Gracie. She did like it when they jumped to her bidding like that. Sending quick text messages back to each of them, she arranged a conference call for noon the next day, then turned her attention back to her working life.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  ‘I suppose we should begin this with a catch-up,’ Charlotte said at the agreed time the next day, putting herself in charge, because, well, she was in charge, wasn’t she? ‘Audrey, how’s Grig? Bibbie?’

  ‘It’s Greg and Bobbie, Charlotte.’

  ‘Sorry. I just can’t seem to master that New Zealand accent.’

  ‘They’re both fine, thank you.’ Audrey’s voice was frosty.

  ‘Spencer? Sorry, Shark Boy, I mean,’ Charlotte said. ‘How’s the surf? And those scars? Shark’s teeth are so full of venom, I suppose.’

  ‘You’re thinking of snakes, Charlotte,’ Spencer said in an unruffled voice. ‘And we don’t have those in Ireland. Couldn’t be happier, thank you for asking.’

  ‘All that sea air and Irish mist, I suppose. Gracie, are you still there? And don’t just nod. We can’t hear you, remember.’

  ‘I’m here.’

  ‘Gracie was in Yorkshire this week for a job interview with the Captain Cook Museum, weren’t you, Gracie?’ Charlotte said.

  ‘There’s a Captain Cook Museum?’ Spencer said. ‘Are we in it?’

  ‘What was the job, Gracie?’ Audrey asked.

  ‘I don’t know if we’re in it and it doesn’t matter what the job was. I didn’t get it,’ Gracie said.

  ‘Good,’ Charlotte said cheerily. ‘Now you have to come and work for me instead. My evil plan worked. I rang deliberately to distract you, you know.’

  ‘I actually wanted that job, Charlotte.’

  ‘No you didn’t.’

  ‘What happened, Gracie?’ Audrey asked.

  ‘They were worried about my work record,’ Gracie said briefly.

  ‘You deserve an award for your work record, in my opinion,’ Charlotte said breezily. ‘So young, so many jobs.’

  ‘Stuff them,’ Spencer said. ‘If they didn’t have the brains to hire you, I hope they all get attacked by islanders and die. That was an excellent allusion to the real Captain Cook story, by the way, in case none of you got it.’

  ‘Got it, Spencer, thanks,’ Gracie said.

  ‘Look, we’re all sorry you didn’t get that job, Gracie,’ Charlotte said, pulling rank again, ‘but there are plenty more jobs in the sea and we better get to the point of this call, fun and all as this telephonic family reunion is. So have you all heard Hope’s message now? No nods, remember. You need to speak.’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Anyone have any idea what she’s actually up to?’

  ‘Couldn’t she be genuine?’ Audrey said. ‘Maybe it’s exactly as she said. She wants to go back to Templeton Hall to lay some ghosts to rest, to make amends for her behaviour back then, and she’s inviting as many of us as possible to join her. Greg thinks it’s very generous of
her. The airfares alone would cost a fortune.’

  ‘Generous of her?’ Charlotte scoffed. ‘Generous of her wealthy dead boyfriend’s last will and testament, more like it.’

  ‘I think it’s a waste of time and money,’ Spencer said. ‘Why doesn’t she dig out one of the old brochures and meditate in front of a photo of Templeton Hall for an hour instead? Save all of us the bother.’

  ‘All of us? So you’re going to accept, Spencer?’

  ‘Are you joking? Go back to Templeton Hall for a week?’ He started laughing. ‘Why on earth would I want to do that?’

  ‘As a thank you to Hope for all the money she’s given you over the years?’ Gracie’s voice was cold.

  ‘Hope and I have a very good relationship about money, Gracie. She gives it to me, I take it. Simple.’

  ‘All right, both of you.’ Charlotte took over again. ‘Has she asked Mum to go, does anyone know?’

  Gracie answered. ‘Yes, she did. Mum said no.’

  ‘Because she can’t stand being in the same room as Hope at the moment either, or did she lie and say she’s too busy at work?’

  ‘She lied,’ Gracie said.

  ‘Okay, that’s two down, three to go. I can’t go, of course. I’m surprised Hope even asked me. She loathes me, I loathe her. If I wasn’t so busy at work, I’d go for the sport of it, though. Audrey, what about you? It’s just a hop across the sea for you, isn’t it? The rest of us would have to fly halfway across the world. That’s an idea! You can go and represent all of us, without getting any jetlag in the process. Thanks, Audrey, that’s —’

  ‘No!’ Audrey’s shout reverberated down all their phone lines. ‘I’ve decided not to go either. I discussed it with Greg —’

  Charlotte sighed. ‘Well, there’s a surprise.’

  Spencer snickered.

  ‘And quite apart from the fact I’m taping the new series of the program over the next two months, Greg feels it wouldn’t be a good idea psychologically for me to go back there.’

  ‘I disagree,’ Spencer said. ‘You spent the last months of your time there locked in your room, didn’t you? It might be helpful psychologically for you to see what the place actually looked like.’

  Charlotte laughed. Gracie stayed quiet.

  Audrey reacted immediately. ‘Oh, you think you’re so funny, Spencer, don’t you? And you too, Charlotte, but you know what? You’re not. And I don’t even know why I’m wasting my time discussing this any more. I’ve already told Hope I can’t go with her. I rang her last night.’

  ‘My, you have been proactive, Audrey,’ Charlotte said, ignoring her outburst. ‘Thank you for gracing us with your audio presence today all the same. Poor Hope. At this rate she’s down to a party of one, her lovely sweet self.’

  ‘What about Gracie?’ Spencer said. ‘You’re not working at the moment, Gracie, are you? You always thought Templeton Hall was a piece of heaven. Why don’t you go back and help Hope unload her psychic burden of guilt? It might help you too. Who knows?’

  ‘Spencer!’ Charlotte warned.

  ‘That’s a horrible thing to say, Spencer!’ Audrey added. ‘Gracie, ignore him.’

  There was no answer from Gracie.

  ‘Gracie?’ Charlotte said, concerned now. ‘Are you still there? Spencer, you unfeeling little idiot, apologise to your sister.’

  ‘Sorry, Gracie.’

  ‘In an adult voice, Spencer,’ Charlotte said.

  ‘Jesus, no wonder you’re a nanny high priestess, if that’s how you talk to your charges.’

  ‘It’s how I talk to everyone.’ Charlotte’s tone softened. ‘Gracie, are you still there?’

  There was a pause, then Gracie’s voice. ‘Yes.’

  ‘Pet, of course we don’t expect you to go back with Hope on your own. I’ll ring her tonight and tell her that we’re all very sorry, that much as we’d love to go on this emotional de-cluttering journey with her, we’re far too busy but we hope she’ll give the dear old Hall a pat from us and would she please turn off the lights on the way —’

  ‘I will do it. I’ll go with her.’

  ‘What?’ Charlotte laughed. ‘Gracie, you have to be joking.’

  ‘I mean it. It’s only for a week and it’s important to her.’

  ‘It’s not a holiday to the Bahamas, Gracie.’ Charlotte wasn’t laughing now. ‘It’s a week with Horrible Hope at Templeton Hall. With Hope. Remember her? That mad, slurring, swaying aunt of ours?’

  ‘She’s different these days, Charlotte.’ Gracie’s voice was calm.

  ‘Not that you’d know, Charlotte,’ Spencer said. ‘How long since you’ve seen her? Decades?’

  ‘Sixteen years to be exact, and don’t try to be smart, Spencer. You’re one to talk. From what I hear all you do is treat her like a human ATM. Anyway, of course she and I have spoken. When she had that epiphany or whatever it was she kept ringing me until I had no choice but to talk to her. It was that or put up with another five hours of her breast-beating on my voicemail. Gracie, we’ll come back to you in a second, I promise. I’m still trying to come to terms with what you just said. I’ve just thought of something. Does anyone know if she’s invited Dad?’

  There was silence.

  Charlotte again. ‘Has anyone spoken to Dad recently?’

  More silence.

  ‘Anyone know where Dad is?’

  Silence.

  ‘Fine. We’ll assume she hasn’t invited him. He’d surely have picked up a phone and called one of us if she had.’

  ‘Called you, perhaps.’ Audrey’s tone was petulant. ‘I kept a note last year and apart from those postcards and, all right, a birthday present, in the entire twelve months he rang me only once. Once. And that was to ask me to keep an eye out for paintings by some long-dead New Zealand-born painter he’d heard was increasing in value. It was nothing to do with me. He didn’t even ask about Greg or Bobbie, or —’

  ‘Poor Audrey,’ Charlotte said. ‘You’re right. I hear from Dad all the time. He never stops visiting me or ringing me —’

  ‘And if he’s not ringing you, he’s ringing me,’ Spencer said. ‘I’ve had to put a block on the phone I was hearing from him so often. It was bordering on harassment.’

  ‘Are you serious? He rings you both that often?’

  ‘No, Audrey. That was a joke,’ Charlotte said. ‘Do you have jokes in New Zealand?’

  ‘Could we please talk about Hope’s invitation?’ It was Gracie. ‘Charlotte, do you have to be the one to ring and tell Hope I’ll go, or am I allowed to do it myself?’

  ‘You’re scaring me, Gracie. Are you seriously serious about this? Do you actually realise what you’re getting yourself into?’

  ‘She’s right, Gracie,’ Audrey said. ‘I think you should give it some more thought.’

  ‘So do I,’ Spencer said. ‘Surely you’ve got better things to do with your time than fly across the world to spend a week with Hope.’

  ‘Actually, no, I don’t,’ Gracie said. ‘I’ll ring Hope tonight.’

  Gracie hung up then. If her brother and sisters had anything more to say to her, she didn’t want to hear it.

  The next day, she emailed all three of them.

  From: Gracie

  To: Charlotte; Audrey; Spencer

  Dear Everyone

  I spoke to Hope last night and told her I’d go back to Templeton Hall with her. She was very nice and very grateful. She asked why the rest of you weren’t coming too, so I explained you were all too busy at work. She may be ringing each of you, so please back me up. It was hard enough having to lie to her. She’s been in touch with the solicitors in Castlemaine and their services apparently don’t extend to opening up the Hall and getting it ready for habitation again, so Hope has asked if I will go back a day or two before her to get it all organised, beds made, food in etc. Before you get outraged on my behalf, Charlotte, Hope has made it clear that she considers this a work trip, not a holiday, and is paying me for my time. I pro
tested but she wouldn’t take no for an answer.

  I leave in three weeks’ time. She’s following two days after that. Talk to you again before I go.

  Love Gracie

  From: info@sharkboysurfschool.ie

  To: gracietempleton@yahoo.co.uk

  She’s PAYING you to go with her?? Why didn’t she say that in the first place?? I’d definitely have come. DAMN. How much?? And don’t start getting any ideas about Templeton Hall. That belongs to ALL of us.

  Gracie didn’t reply.

  Audrey rang Gracie the next morning.

  ‘Gracie, I’ve been thinking about this overnight. Are you sure you can actually cope with this? Not just Hope. The whole going-back-there thing. I know that Templeton Hall meant more to you than any of us, even before all of that happened with Nina and Tom.’

  Gracie was glad Audrey had brought it up. Apart from Spencer’s one unkind reference, Nina and Tom had been the elephants in the room during their conference call. It had been the same when Gracie phoned Hope the previous night, too. Hope had made lots of allusions to the Donovans, talking about difficult memories and a miasma of past guilt, but she hadn’t directly mentioned Nina or Tom’s name like Audrey just had. Gracie felt suddenly fond towards her sister. Audrey wasn’t usually so thoughtful.

  ‘Maybe it’ll be for the best,’ she said. ‘I don’t think I’d have gone back voluntarily.’