by Liz Byrski
David stared at the vision in purple that greeted him as he opened the door.
‘Gran, what a surprise. Are you on your own? How did you get here?’
‘Got a lift with friends,’ Lila said. ‘Besides, there’re trams and buses, you know, I’m not helpless. Aren’t you going to ask me in?’
He stepped back and she marched into the huge room and over to the tall windows that looked down onto the street below. ‘This is very nice, very modern.’
‘Yep, it is. Would you like some tea?’
‘Just had coffee and cake, thanks,’ she said. ‘And I’m not here to mess about, David, I’ve come to sort you out.’
‘Really? I can hardly wait.’
‘Don’t you be a smartarse with me,’ she said, and David flinched at a word he would not have used in her presence. She perched on the edge of a scarlet cube-style sofa that Matt had helped him choose, her feet barely touching the floor. She looked strangely misplaced, like a small doll that had been put on the wrong shelf in the toy shop.
‘This whole family’s in a mess and it’s time I did something about it and you’re first,’ Lila said.
David pulled a face. ‘Sounds like I’m in trouble.’
‘If you are it’s of your own making. Now, what are you up to with Judy?’
‘Jodie.’
‘Don’t change the subject.’
‘I’m not, and I’m not up to anything.’
‘Exactly! Not up to enough, if you ask me,’ Lila said. ‘No good to keep going out with her if it’s not going to go any further than that. She’s a lovely girl, you just don’t know when you’re well off.’
‘It’s not as easy as that,’ David said, fidgeting with embarrassment. ‘Jodie’s fantastic, but it’s complicated – you wouldn’t understand.’
‘Oh, I understand all right,’ Lila said, ‘But hepatitis isn’t the worst thing in the world, you know. A lot of people have HIV as well – be thankful that hasn’t happened to you. You have to take care of yourself, don’t get too tired, don’t drink, and be careful of your diet, and practise safe sex.’
David looked at her, surprise outweighing annoyance and embarrassment. Just like Matt, she sounded as though she had memorised the support group leaflet. ‘How do you know all this?’
‘I read it. Went down to the library and looked it up. It wasn’t easy because they hadn’t got it in large print, but the librarian helped me. You can live a normal life, you know, you just need to look after yourself and use condoms. No children, though – you can’t have children.’
David, elbows on his knees, hid his face in his hands. He had never expected to have a conversation like this with his mother, let alone his grandmother, and he wondered what she’d come out with next.
‘Don’t get all uptight about it,’ Lila said, leaning forward. ‘In my day we weren’t supposed to talk about these things. But now sex is everywhere, people are doing it and talking about it and filming it everywhere, it’s even on the ABC, but talk about important things with your own family – oh no, that’s not on. Doesn’t make sense to me.’ She struggled to her feet and walked back to the window. ‘Come over here,’ she ordered, pointing out into the street. ‘Look at this.’
David joined her at the window, looking down to where a couple of teenage girls in revealing halter tops, low-cut jeans and bare midriffs were joking with some boys on the opposite side of the street. ‘Look at them,’ she said. ‘Midwinter and they’re half naked. Nothing left to the imagination, let it all hang out. I don’t get it. What’s it all for if people still can’t talk frankly when it’s important? All that free love, the pill, getting rid of taboos, but you can’t talk to Judy and you think I shouldn’t even know about it.’
‘It’s not really as simple as that, Gran,’ David began.
‘It’s only as complicated as you make it.’ Her eyes had an unusual watery brightness about them. He slipped his arm through hers and led her back to the couch.
‘Come and sit down,’ he said. ‘No need to get upset.’
‘Well, I am,’ she said, rummaging in her bag for a handkerchief. ‘I don’t like this business with Fran and Caro, and I don’t like you being unhappy. You’ve got to have courage, David. I know you’re thinking I’m a stupid old woman who’s losing her marbles – ’
‘No,’ he protested.
‘Yes you do, you all do. Maybe I’m a bit forgetful, and maybe I do like a bit of tinned ham and go on about the old days, I don’t mind you all having a laugh about that. But I still know what’s what, and what I know is this, that’s a lovely girl you’ve got there, and she’s not stupid, you know. Give her a bit of respect, for goodness sake, talk to her about it. Let her talk to you. Be brave, take a risk, sort it out. Otherwise you’re going to be a lonely old man before you’re forty.’
Lila blew her nose loudly, and then took off her glasses and wiped them with a tissue. ‘That’s what I came to say. And don’t tell her I told you, otherwise she’ll be really upset with me. Now you can make me that cup of tea and then you can drive me over to Caro’s place. I need to set her straight, and then your mother. I really don’t know what this family’s coming to.’
Fran dropped the Boatshed proposal on the table and sank down onto the wooden bench. ‘Lord give me strength. Thanks for meeting me, Bonnie. You are the only fixed point of sanity in my crazy world.’
Bonnie, who had been waiting anxiously for her to arrive, and was unsure how having had time to peruse the proposal would have affected her, raised her eyebrows in surprise, but decided not to push her luck. ‘Tell me about it over lunch. The minestrone here is always good.’
‘That’ll do me,’ Fran sighed, unbuttoning her coat, ‘With heaps of parmesan and some Italian bread.’
‘I see you got your scarf back.’
‘I did. Almost had to rip it off Mum’s neck. She thinks she has first rights on anything purple. She turned up on my doorstep wearing it a couple of days ago.’
‘A visit?’ Bonnie said. ‘I thought she only went out with you or the kids.’
‘So did I, but she decided that we all needed a good shake-up, beginning with David. Not sure what that was about – she said it was confidential. But then she got him to drive her to Caro and then to me, because she wanted to fix things up between us.’
‘Two minestrones, bread and couple of glasses of the house red,’ Bonnie told the waiter. ‘Do they need fixing up?’
‘Yes,’ said Fran, ‘but that’s another story, and it’ll take more than the purple people-eater to fix that. Mothers! Honestly, they can really be a pain in the bum.’
Bonnie nodded. ‘Must be something in the air. Mine’s been really weird since her holiday. She seems to be going through some sort of teenage phase again.’
‘Oh well,’ Fran said, ‘I guess we’ve got this to look forward to in twenty-five years’ time. Promise you’ll tell me if I get like that?’ She put her hand on the Boatshed file. ‘This is great, Bon, I want to be in it, and I’m sorry for being so negative. It came at a bad time, too much happening, and I was scared of the whole thing. But I’ve had time to think about it and – well, it’s great.‘
‘Really?’ Bonnie was cautious – the leap from antipathy to enthusiasm was a big one and it had come more quickly than she had expected after that first meeting. ‘Have you talked to anyone else about it?’
Fran nodded. ‘Caro first, before we fell out. David. And Tom, who’s the business and finance editor at the paper.’
‘That sounds good. You must have some questions.’
‘Yes, but they’ll wait. The main thing is I want you to know that I’m in, and that I’m really grateful for the chance – ’
‘Don’t, Fran.’ Bonnie held up her hand. ‘This is business, not charity.’
‘I know, but it’s an opportunity that I wouldn’t otherwise have had, and that, and your faith in me, means a lot. It’s changing the way I feel. And there’s something else. Two things, actually.’
They sat back as the waiter arrived with two huge bowls of soup and their wine.
‘Cheers,’ said Bonnie, raising her glass. ‘To the Boatshed. So, tell me the rest of it.’
‘I’ve had an offer for the house. I’ve got it here with me. I thought you might have a look at it and tell me what you think. And I should have told you this before, but what with Caro’s accident it slipped my mind. Remember that publisher we met at the dinner, the one I grumbled about because I thought he wanted me to review his books? I had lunch with him the day of Caro’s accident. It turns out he actually wants me to write a book. He called me again this morning, and I gave him your number.’ She grinned and took another sip of her wine. ‘I told him to contact my agent!’
TWENTY
Will could hardly believe his luck. Here he was waiting at Hong Kong airport for Sylvia to arrive on the Cathay Pacific flight from London, and then come back with him to his apartment, and he had Bonnie to thank for it. Not even in his wildest dreams could he have imagined this perfect situation falling into his lap, especially after he’d discovered that Sylvia was going away just a few days after he had arrived in Melbourne. He had been cursing fate and rummaging around for what to do next, when God obliged by sending snow to Mount Macedon.
When he’d suggested driving up to see it he’d thought that for sure there would be three of them, but Bonnie, bless her, had opted out, and he and Sylvia had spent a delightful day, walking, having coffee and then lunch, and browsing through a couple of excellent second-hand bookshops. She still seemed to be ignoring his signals but Will was sure he must be making progress. And then, the very next day, two days before Sylvia was due to leave, it happened.
‘I think I might make a little change on my return flight,’ she’d said at breakfast. ‘That is, unless they’re going to charge me a huge amount for it.’
‘Think you’ll stay a bit longer?’ Bonnie had asked from behind the newspaper.
‘No, it’s not that, but I have this half-day wait in Hong Kong on the way back, and I’ve always wanted to go there. I thought I might stay a day or two, do a bit of sightseeing before I come home.’
Will, who was pretending to be buried in the Australian Financial Review, refrained from leaping up and punching the air. Instead he waited to see what would happen next and it just got better and better.
‘Good idea,’ Bonnie said. ‘I love Hong Kong, so does Will – in fact, maybe you could stay at his place there. Will, what do you think?’
Will kept on looking at the paper, feigning intense concentration. ‘Will, wake up! Sylvia’s thinking of stopping off in Hong Kong on the way back. I said maybe she could stay at your place.’
Will looked up, affecting the uninterested manner he sometimes used in meetings. ‘By all means,’ he said, forcing his eyes back down to the paper. ‘You’re welcome to use it any time, Sylvia. Just let me know when and I’ll call the concierge and tell her to get it ready for you.’ Turning his attention back to the paper he was amazed that, despite his excitement, he was able to play it so cool.
Eventually the two women agreed that Hong Kong would be worth three nights, especially as Sylvia wouldn’t have to pay for a hotel.
‘All right, Will?’ Bonnie asked. She called out the dates and Will slowly folded the paper, went over to his briefcase, which was lying on a nearby chair, took out his Palm Pilot and pretended to consult his diary.
‘Yes, that’s fine,’ he said. ‘There’s a chance that I’ll be there myself then, but there are two bedrooms and you won’t be in my way at all.’
‘Splendid,’ said Bonnie. ‘And maybe you can show Sylvia around a bit if you’ve got time.’
‘Oh, I don’t want to be a nuisance,’ Sylvia said. ‘I’m sure I can find my own way around.’
‘I’m sure you can,’ Will said. ‘Just the same, it’ll be a pleasure – I can certainly fit in a brief stint as tour guide.’
Sylvia fetched her tickets and reached for the telephone. ‘I’d better call Cathay,’ she said. ‘I hope I can switch to a later date. Do you think they’ll charge extra? I travel so rarely, I’m not used to this sort of thing.’
‘It depends on the basis of the fare that Colin booked for you,’ Will said. ‘Look, would you like me to do that for you? I have to call them about my own bookings.’
Like a lamb to the slaughter, Sylvia handed over her tickets with a grateful smile. ‘Would you really, Will? That’s kind of you. But if they want a big fee for changing it …’
‘I won’t commit you to anything without telling you,’ he said. ‘I’ll do it today.’ He slipped the ticket into the inside pocket of his jacket, and stacked his plate and coffee cup in the dishwasher.
‘Gotta get off now,’ he said, glancing at his watch and realising he really was cutting it fine for his nine o’clock meeting. ‘See you both later.’
He let himself out of the house, and only when he was safely ensconced in the hire car and had turned the corner out of Bonnie’s drive did he let out the yee-ha that was bursting to escape. Then he switched the radio on to Triple J and began singing along very loudly with Bono in the wrong key.
It had cost Will a stupid amount to change Sylvia’s flight, not that he cared about that, he’d told her it had been simple with no charge. And he’d rapidly rearranged his schedule to accommodate Sylvia’s visit to Hong Kong.
A few weary looking passengers began to emerge from customs, gazing around hopefully for friends and relatives, manoeuvring trolleys laden with luggage. Will shifted impatiently from one foot to the other. He was wearing an open-necked blue shirt and his favourite beige suit that was made from a mightily expensive linen and silk blend. He hoped he looked relaxed but also as though he was busy and had just come from some mid-level meeting, rather than having spent a long time wandering back and forth between the bedroom and bathroom thinking about what to wear and how he wanted her to see him.
The trickle of passengers seemed extraordinarily slow and with every moment Will grew more and more tense. Finally the doors opened again and there, behind a huge man in an anorak and baseball cap, he saw her. She was wearing a navy blue cotton shirt and stonewashed jeans, and she had a pale blue jumper draped over her shoulders, the sleeves tied in a loose knot below the open neck of her shirt. Will breathed a huge sigh of relief and his stomach lurched in excitement. She didn’t see him at first, but then, she wasn’t expecting him, so it was only as she passed through the guard rail out into the main concourse and he stepped up to her that she saw him and broke into a smile.
‘Will, how lovely!’ she cried, leaning forward to kiss him on both cheeks. ‘How kind of you. I didn’t expect you to meet me. I was going to brave my first Hong Kong taxi.’
Will took hold of the trolley and steered it through the crowd. ‘We can do that together,’ he said. ‘I always think it’s nicer to be met when you’re in a strange place. How was your flight?’
‘Oh, long and exhausting. I was in the window seat and that huge man in the baseball cap was next to me. He sort of overflowed, and when he fell asleep he expanded even further.’
A taxi stopped in front of them and the driver sprung the boot and jumped out to load the luggage.
Will handed Sylvia into the back seat, slipped in after her and gave the address to the driver.
‘Fasten seatbelts,’ he said with a smile. ‘There’s nothing quite like Hong Kong taxis, and Hong Kong traffic – you take your life in your hands.’ And, true to form, the driver slammed his foot on the accelerator and they shot forward.
Sylvia emerged from the shower feeling as though she had been reborn. The journey had left her tired and irritable and as they were coming in to land she had wished fervently that, much as she hated the confines of the plane, she could just stay put, fly on and get back home to a normal life. When she caught sight of Will in the arrivals hall she’d had mixed feelings. There was the initial relief of seeing a friendly face in a strange place, but she’d hoped for solitude. Will, however, was surprisi
ngly sensitive; once they were inside the tiny flat in Kowloon he made her some tea, showed her the essentials and then announced that he had things to do and he’d be back around six. Perhaps she’d like to have a rest and a shower, and then, if she didn’t have other plans, he’d love to take her out for dinner.
Enormously relieved, Sylvia opened her bag, hung a few things in the wardrobe and flung herself on the bed. She had more than three hours to herself and, while she was tossing up the relative merits of having a shower first, she fell fast asleep and woke just before six to darkness and confusion about where she was. She sat up rubbing her eyes, feeling dirty and wretched. Her mouth was dry, her eyes scratchy and she shivered in the sudden chill of waking. Stripping off her clothes she staggered blindly under the shower, waiting for the hot water to wash away the remnants of the flight and the memory of the awkward, painful parting from Kim and the children. Slowly her mood began to lift and by the time she stepped out and started to dry her hair, she was revived and ready for the evening. She could hear Will, singing in his own shower.
‘So, tell me about your holiday,’ Will said as they sat in the softly lit restaurant overlooking the harbour. ‘Did you have a good time with your daughter?’
She had hoped he wouldn’t ask but now the question came as a relief and she knew she needed to talk about it. ‘Yes and no,’ she began. ‘It was wonderful to see them all. The children have grown so much you can actually have conversations with them and they’re so sweet and funny. So that was lovely, and England in summer was beautiful, so different from my other visits, but …’
‘But?’ Will prompted, signalling the waiter to pour the wine.
‘But two small children all day every day can be exhausting, and then there were some other complications…’ This would be so tedious to a young single man who would probably prefer to be having dinner with a girlfriend or business associate. ‘Oh, never mind,’ she said, ‘I won’t bore you with all that.’
