‘Well, don’t have an accident or anything, then I’ll really be screwed.’
Liv was currently standing glazed-eyed in front of a wall of cereal boxes when she was roused by her phone ringing. Probably Lachie with a list of special requests. Good, she could ask him what was the cereal du jour. Every month or so Liv had to clean out the pantry of half-empty boxes, abandoned when they had moved on to something else. Those boys changed cereal as often as they changed socks; actually, from the smell of some of their socks, it was probably more often.
She looked at the screen on her phone. Oh cripes, it was her mother – Liv had forgotten to call her yesterday with Rick there.
‘Hi, Mum,’ she answered brightly.
‘Olive,’ said Joy. ‘You’re back, I presume, because all I can do is presume.’
‘I know, Mum. I’m so sorry, I should have called you last night, but Rick ended up staying.’
‘He did?’ There was a marked change of tone.
‘For dinner,’ Liv added quickly, so as not to give her any ideas. ‘He drove the boys home from school, he forgot that he didn’t need to.’
‘Well, that was very nice of him, very thoughtful.’
Liv gritted her teeth. ‘Actually, it wasn’t thoughtful at all, Mum, quite the opposite. He didn’t think, he didn’t check the schedule.’
‘Come now, you’d be complaining if he forgot when he had to pick them up, so at least give him bonus points for this.’
Liv was trying to follow that logic – so the next time Rick forgot the boys and left them stranded, which had happened more times than she cared to think about over the years, she should give him a free pass because he showed up one time when he didn’t need to? Her mother was always trying to find ways to emphasise Rick’s good side, and sometimes that involved straining the levels of credibility to breaking point. It wasn’t that she approved of Rick’s infidelity, it was that she approved of divorce less. Joy Walsh was a deeply religious woman, and from her perspective, divorce was a far greater transgression. A marriage undertaken before God could never be dissolved by any court, so in her mind, Liv and Rick were still married. The right course, the godly course, would have been for Liv to forgive Rick and take him back, once he had got ‘it’ out of his system. In fact, as far as her mother was concerned, Liv wasn’t giving Rick the opportunity to truly repent, so she was just as accountable – if not more so – for the tragic collapse of their marriage.
‘So Rick stayed for dinner,’ her mother was saying. ‘What a treat for the boys.’
‘Hm, they got to have pizza,’ Liv muttered, reaching for a random box of cereal.
‘Olive, really,’ her mother admonished. ‘How do you expect to make things right if you won’t even cook him a meal?’
‘I’m not expecting to make things right,’ said Liv. ‘Have you forgotten that Rick is living with someone?’
‘Only because he doesn’t have a choice,’ Joy returned. ‘You took his home away from him.’
Liv had had enough. They had the same, or a similar, circuitous argument almost every time Rick’s name came up. ‘Look, Mum, I’m in the supermarket, and I have to get home to the boys.’
‘Well, okay then.’ Joy sounded miffed. There was definitely miff in her voice.
‘Thank you so much for helping while I was away, for picking up the slack.’
‘If you didn’t work so much, there would be no slack to pick up.’
‘There’d also be no way to pay for these groceries.’
‘I’m sure Rick can afford all the groceries you need.’
‘Mum, lay off, all right?’ Liv finally snapped. ‘Rick is paying for another woman’s groceries, because he made the choice to sleep around and break our marriage vows while I was knee-deep caring for two babies. How can you keep blaming this on me? It’s been almost ten years.’
‘I know what it’s like to look after two children,’ her mother said, her voice shifting slightly to a more conciliatory tone. ‘It is really hard work, so you have to make an effort if you’re going to keep your husband interested –’
‘Oh, for Chrissakes!’
‘Olive!’
‘Goodbye, Mum.’ Liv hung up. She should have just given her the f-bomb and been done with it, instead of taking the Lord’s name in vain. Joy would be furious. And now Liv was going to have to call her back later to apologise. She didn’t normally let her mother upset her these days; it was all so far in the past she usually just tuned out. But Rick showing up and hanging around yesterday had rattled her. She really couldn’t go through another round with him. Lately she had felt that she was finally building her own life. She had read a report once that claimed divorced men were unhappier than divorced women. Liv had to wonder who they’d interviewed for that; every divorced man she’d ever known of had started a whole new life with a younger wife five minutes after the papers were filed, while the wife he left behind was literally left behind. Liv was living in the same house, still the ‘primary caregiver’ for the boys. Her life didn’t change much when Rick left, except that she had less money, and less support. She knew she was free of the lies and the stress, but she wasn’t free. Every minute of her life had to be accountable.
But things were beginning to free up now. The boys could get themselves to and from school, they could be at home on their own for limited periods, and she had been able to get back out on the road. Most importantly, she could see a time when the boys could have their own relationship with their father and she wouldn’t have to broker it. And she was counting the days. Because then Rick could finally be relegated to a minor player in her life.
Liv was so rattled by her mother’s call that she forgot half of what she came to the supermarket to get, but ended up with more junk food, and way more chocolate, than was absolutely necessary. The boys certainly didn’t object when she got home and they started raiding the bags.
‘Please pack the groceries away,’ said Liv, ‘if there are any left after you’ve finished with them.’
‘Everything okay, Mum?’ Dylan asked her, ever the sensitive one.
‘I’m just tired,’ she assured him.
Liv was still stewing when she walked into her room to change out of her work clothes. She decided that a shower might help her cool off and calm down, so she stripped off and tossed her clothes into the hamper. And that’s when the wastepaper basket caught her eye. After a moment’s hesitation, Liv reached in and picked up the scrunched slip of paper. She popped it into the drawer of her desk and closed it firmly.
9.30 pm
The end was in sight. There was a little polishing left to do, but Madeleine decided to leave that until the morning when her head would be clearer. She had already eaten dinner at her desk – a microwaved Lean Cuisine followed by a Mars bar, just to provide balance – so she only had to pick up some milk on her way back to the flat, and by ten o’clock she was curled up on the sofa with a cup of tea. The flat was in Chippendale, so at this time of night it wasn’t even ten minutes from the office by car. It really was ridiculously convenient, and it was a perfect little place for one – comfortable and cosy and very safe, you had to swipe one of those security cards to get into the garage or the main entrance, and again for the elevator. But maybe it was an extravagance when she used it so infrequently. Madeleine didn’t know why she was having so much trouble letting it go, and every time Henry pressured her she felt herself digging her heels in all the more.
Which reminded her. She picked up the phone and called him. ‘Hi,’ she said when he answered.
‘How are you feeling?’ he asked.
What did he mean by that? ‘I’m fine. A little tired, it’s been a very long day. I just got back to the flat.’
‘You were working until now?’
‘Until about half an hour ago,’ she said. Was he doubting her? ‘What else do you think I’d be doing?’
‘Nothing,’ he said. ‘I didn’t mean anything, Madeleine.’
She could hear the tone o
f appeasement in his voice, and that was worse. She hated being handled. Why was he handling her? Just because she’d had a few drinks last night? Madeleine sighed. And why was she being so paranoid about it? ‘So what did you boys get up to today?’ she asked, changing the subject.
She listened while Henry proceeded to give her a recap – they’d stayed at the beach for a while this morning, then driven around to some of the sites, lookouts and such. She hoped Aiden appreciated nature, because that was mostly all the area had to offer. The small shopping villages were nice enough, but there wasn’t a lot going on at the far end of the peninsula.
‘Jet lag finally caught up with him this afternoon,’ Henry said, ‘so he had a nap while I got some work done.’
Henry was determined to clear his schedule before the wedding, or more specifically, the honeymoon. They hadn’t had a real holiday together since her trip to New York, because Madeleine had always had to work during his visits to Sydney. So Henry was excited that he was finally going to get to see some of the famed outback he’d heard so much about. He’d insisted on organising everything – he said she had enough to do with the wedding, and anyway, he wanted to surprise her. Madeleine was a little worried that she was going to spend her entire honeymoon trekking in remote bushland, which didn’t exactly scream romance. But she didn’t feel she could say anything. At least they were having a holiday together – that was something.
She suddenly felt lonely away from him. ‘I miss you,’ she said.
‘Miss you too.’
‘You know, I really was working right up until half an hour ago. I’d much rather be home with you now.’
She heard him sigh. ‘I know. And I’m glad you didn’t have to drive home this late,’ he said. ‘I’m sorry I get cranky about it. I’m just looking forward to after the wedding, when you’re not working these kinds of hours, and we won’t need the apartment.’
Madeleine wondered why being married was suddenly going to reduce her hours at work. But she didn’t want to get into that now; she certainly didn’t want to start that unpleasant bickering again.
‘Anyway, you must be tired,’ said Henry. ‘I better let you get some sleep.’
She thought about the long conversations they used to have over Skype, in totally disparate time zones. She never remembered finishing the call so either one of them could get some sleep.
‘Henry?’
‘Mm?’
‘I love you.’
‘Love you too. See you tomorrow.’
He hung up, and Madeleine sat staring at the phone. Of course he was right, it was late and she needed to get some sleep. But after she had changed into her pyjamas and washed her face and brushed her teeth, she felt oddly restless. She wasn’t going to get off to sleep until she unwound a little.
She sat on the edge of the bed as she set the alarm on her phone. It occurred to her that her mum would definitely be awake. Margaret’s habits had undergone a radical reversal since her husband died. Together they used to be early to bed and early risers, but now that she was on her own she was suddenly a night owl.
‘Hi, Mum, it’s me,’ Madeleine said quickly when Margaret answered the phone with a wary ‘Hello?’
‘Oh, is anything wrong, darling?’
‘No, no,’ she assured her. ‘I had to work late, so I’m staying at the flat. I thought it was a good chance to say hi. I haven’t called too late, have I?’
‘Oh no, I’ll be up for ages yet.’
‘Are you watching telly?’
‘Yes, but it’s a show I recorded, so I’ve paused it. I’d rather talk to you anyway.’
Madeleine smiled. ‘Sorry I haven’t called lately.’
‘But we only spoke yesterday, didn’t we?’ her mother said.
‘Well, yes,’ said Madeleine. ‘But I couldn’t talk, we were at the airport to pick up Henry’s best man, remember?’
‘Oh, how exciting! Henry must be so happy to have someone from home visiting . . . He’s from America as well, I take it?’
‘Yes, they went to college together, he’s Henry’s oldest friend.’ Madeleine had previously told her all of this, but never mind. She was used to having to repeat things to her mother. ‘His name’s Aiden, and he’s very charming, Mum. I’m sure you’re going to like him.’
‘Of course I’ll like him, any friend of Henry’s . . .’
That was sweet. And Madeleine knew she meant it.
‘So are we going to get to meet him?’ Margaret asked.
‘Well, of course, Mum. He’s Henry’s best man . . . for the wedding.’
‘No, I mean before that.’
‘Oh, sure.’ She shouldn’t always assume that her mother wasn’t keeping up. ‘Genevieve mentioned something about having a lunch. She had to check Mark’s schedule.’
‘Well, that will be lovely, I’ll look forward to it.’
‘Has Gen been in touch with you?’
‘About the lunch?’
‘Not specifically . . .’ Madeleine hesitated over how to put this. ‘I was just wondering if she got back to you when you called her yesterday.’ In other words, had Genevieve asked her to mind the boys?
‘I’m sure I’ve spoken to her . . . I think . . .’
‘But you haven’t seen her?’
‘Not this week, no, dear. Genevieve’s a busy girl . . . I wish there was some way I could help her.’
Madeleine was going to have to work on her sister some more. ‘So what did you get up to today, Mum?’
‘Oh, not much.’
Margaret then proceeded to give her an exhaustively detailed rundown of doing pretty much nothing for the entire day. This was why Madeleine didn’t call her more often, and she felt a deep sense of guilt about it. She had despaired early on, while she was still living at home. Whenever she returned from a tour, she would have to listen to her mother debrief about doing nothing the whole time she’d been away. So Madeleine started to collect brochures for courses she might be interested in, mention groups she might like to join. Until one day, Margaret responded with a clarity and forthrightness Madeleine hadn’t heard from her in a long time. ‘Why would I want to join a scrapbooking group, darling?’ she said. ‘Don’t you think I would already be scrapbooking if that was something I was interested in doing? I admit, I’m lonely, and I know you worry, but I don’t want to do things just for the sake of filling in time. If your father was alive, no one would be telling me to keep myself busy – if we just wanted to sit around reading books all day, nobody would care. But now I’m supposed to keep busy, and have “interests”. Why should I have to make such a constant effort at my age? It really isn’t fair.’
So Madeleine listened with uncharacteristic patience to the litany of the day’s non-activities, and didn’t interrupt or cut the call short. By the time she hung up, she wasn’t feeling so guilty, but she was feeling sleepy, so there had been something in it for her after all. She switched off the bedside lamp and lay down on her side. She missed having Henry there to nestle into. She hoped they would have a marriage like her parents’, but then Madeleine wondered if it was such a good thing to be so dependent on another person for your happiness, because what happened if you lost them? She felt a shiver run up her spine, the kind her mother always said was someone walking over your grave. She really didn’t want to think about that.
Saturday
‘Boys, we’re leaving in ten!’ Liv sang out up the hall.
Like thousands of parents everywhere, Liv spent her weekends driving to sporting fields across the metropolitan area, and sometimes beyond. The boys played sport all year round – now that soccer season was over, cricket season was in full swing. Rick was firmly of the school that sport built character, whereas Liv was inclined to believe that it only revealed it. There were plenty of sports-playing people who were thugs and bullies and who hadn’t learnt a thing about team spirit or fair play or any other noble virtues.
However, she certainly supported the idea of physical activity out in the
fresh air. Lachie didn’t have to be encouraged, if anything he needed to learn to sit still occasionally. Dylan, on the other hand, would have barely seen the light of day if not for organised sport. After one too many injuries he had dropped out of soccer, despite his father’s protestations. But Liv had supported Dylan. He didn’t enjoy it and he just got hurt all the time, so what was the point? However, she did agree with Rick that he had to find something else. When Lachie declared that he wanted to sign up for cricket that summer, Liv was initially aghast at the thought of spending long days out in the beating sun watching a game she had never been able to understand, let alone follow. But when Dylan decided he was interested – something about the whites and the gentlemanly code appealed to his quirky nature – Liv knew she was outnumbered.
She soon discovered the delights of having a whole day when she didn’t have to do anything but sit in a fold-out chair and gaze into the middle distance. As long as she gave them a wave now and then, and brought a hamper of food, the boys were happy. As both a working and only-every-second-weekend mother, Liv wasn’t very well known among the other parents, so she didn’t feel obliged to sit with them. She quickly worked out that if she played shy – always polite but no eye contact, slightly awkward responses to any invitations to join them – she was left blissfully to herself. She set up camp just far enough away from the main throng to enjoy her solitude. Over time Liv acquired a sturdy, easy-to-assemble shade shelter, a deceptively comfortable sling chair, and a large esky on wheels. She made a particular effort with the food: hearty wraps or rolls for the boys, and plenty of snacks and sports drinks. As well, she always made a quick trip to the David Jones food hall in town on Fridays, treating herself to an array of gourmet finger foods for her own little private picnic. The only thing that would have made it better was if she could have had a drink without worrying about driving. But that was a small price to pay, and anyway, sometimes she packed a single bottle of imported beer, or the last glass of a bottle of white wine, or even a gin and tonic pre-mixed in a thermos, to sip slowly throughout the afternoon.
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