Other Side of the Season

by Jenn J. McLeod

  ‘That’s when I discovered the correct term is people with albinism. Then the battery died. Speaking of dying . . . Have you and Mum killed each other yet?’

  ‘She’s settled in a motel room, but only for one night.’ Sidney shoved her coat over to perch on the edge of the bed. She went on to explain about the car rally, her brother’s ears pricking up at the thought of throbbing exhausts beating an exhilarating pace through the mountains above Coffs Harbour. ‘Forget it, Jake. You’ve had all the excitement on wheels you’re having this trip. I’m glad we’ll be tucked away in Watercolour Cove for the duration. Mum will be, too, I’m sure. When I tell her.’

  ‘What’s going on with you two?’

  ‘What do you mean?’ Sid deliberately focused on a pulled thread in the hospital blanket, picking at it.

  ‘Sid, I might not be the smart one in the family, but I can see and I can hear and I sure heard you and Mum going at it one time I dropped by to do my laundry. It wasn’t just one of your regular fights. And that was before you found the letter. So, what gives?’

  Sid let out an exasperated sigh. ‘Jake, Mum and I seem to be going from bad to worse. Everything I do seems . . . I don’t know.’ Sid gestured towards the window. ‘You see that wallaby? The one with the pouch?’

  ‘Is this story going to take long?’

  Sid ignored the jibe. ‘I’m pregnant.’

  ‘Yeah, I already figured that out, remember? You having second thoughts?’

  ‘No, but . . .’ Sid was still staring at the wallaby and her baby. ‘That’s going to be me soon.’

  ‘I assume when you say that’s going to be you, you’re not telling me you’re having a joey, because that would be kind of hard to explain to my mates.’

  ‘I mean, soon a little life will need protecting. It will be depending on me for everything.’

  ‘You’ll be great.’

  ‘I’ll be on my own.’

  ‘You’ll never get back together with Damo?’

  ‘Never. Me wanting to keep the baby is what ended us.’

  ‘What?’ Jake winced again. ‘Stupid dumb arse, that Damo.’ He put a hand on top of Sid’s and squeezed. ‘Real sorry, sis. His loss, I say. Personally, I never liked the bloke. You were too good for him.’

  ‘Aw, Jake.’ Sid surprised herself by bursting into tears.

  As a family they were not overly demonstrative. They loved each other, Sid knew without any doubt, but showing weakness by crying, or even accepting sympathy, was something none of them did well, or easily. Not even at their father’s funeral had they shared their grief and let their tears fall freely. If Natalie had got a say, there wouldn’t have been any service for their dad at all, but his boss, Leo Pelakanigos, had insisted. Matthew’s colleagues had come from as far away as Western Australia to pay their respects. Strangers sadly outnumbering family, Sid remembered thinking at the time.

  ‘Hey, sis, come on.’ Jake shoved a hospital-issue tissue at her from the box on the side table. ‘What’s up?’

  ‘I’ve been thinking about Dad and how he missed out on being a grandfather. You and I missed out on knowing our grandfather and Little Bump won’t know a grandfather either.’

  ‘Well, you’ve got me instead. I’ll make up for Dad not being around. I’ll be the best bloody uncle ever. Footy, skateboarding, surfing, you name it. I’m there for the kid.’

  ‘I’m sure she will love that.’

  ‘She! It’s a girl?’

  Sid laughed. ‘Maybe. But boy or girl–especially if it’s a girl–my child will have the choice of all those things, and he or she will take after Uncle Jake and be exceptional at sports.’

  ‘And a master of the kitchen.’

  ‘Goes without saying,’ Sid returned.

  ‘So, what’s Mum’s problem? Does she think you’re too young to be a mother?’ Jake winked.

  ‘I can see you’re back to being your witty self.’ Sid smiled, stood, wandered back to the window and blew her nose. The impending darkness was changing everything, the grazing mama wallaby now standing extra tall. What dangers might the night bring to threaten her joey? Were wallabies on high alert 24/7? Would Sid be? How would she know what to look out for? Did humans automatically know how to be a mother like animals seemed to? At least wallabies had safety in numbers.

  ‘Mum’s mad because I’m going to raise the baby on my own. According to her, I should be making Damien marry me. Or any man, for that matter.’

  ‘You’re kidding me.’

  ‘Nope!’ Sid swung around to face her brother. ‘She went on to suggest that I try to reconnect with Brian Maldon. Do you remember him? Apparently she thought he was always very smitten with me and that he might still be interested, and that I should get in touch with him and see how things go.’

  ‘Seriously? Bogan Brian?’ Jake sniggered. ‘And Mum was actually suggesting you don’t tell the guy you’re pregnant until you’ve suckered him in?’

  ‘Not in so many words, but I got the feeling that was the implication. Then she told me that the guy in number sixty-nine Wagtail Lane, up the road from the B & B, was chatting to her. He’d noticed me on my morning run. He’s also getting over a breakup, so naturally we have something in common to chat about over coffee. Like . . . Never! We most definitely would not have anything in common. Have you seen Mr Sixty-Nine?’

  ‘Flippin’ fishcakes!’ Jake pondered the news. ‘Mr Sixty-Nine, hey? Go for it.’ When Sid didn’t laugh at his joke, he went quiet for a moment, then cleared his throat and spoke softly. ‘You know, Sid, that’s probably Mum’s way of saying any bloke would be lucky to have you. I tend to agree–about the lucky thing, not the sucking-a-guy-in thing. And, also, umm . . .’

  ‘What, Jake?’

  ‘Well, rather than hooking up with a bloke, you do have other, you know, choices. Not that I’d want you to, or expect you to–’

  ‘Hey, Jakey, it’s okay. I thought about an abortion for about five seconds and decided I’d no more terminate this baby than I would trick someone into marrying me. I know abortion happens, and for good reason sometimes, but it’s not for me, and neither is conning a man into marrying.’

  ‘I can’t believe never-do-wrong Natalie would even suggest something like that to you.’

  ‘Maybe it’s a mob thing,’ she said.

  ‘Huh?’

  ‘Maybe that’s what Mum’s on about. She’s telling me I need a mob to look after me and my little joey bump.’

  Sid took a final glance out the window at the wallaby family retreating in collective bounds to the safety of the scrub as night fell. She was going to be responsible for another human being. How would she know what to be alert for? Her own childhood had been so safe, so secure, that she’d never had to develop her survival instincts. For all her faults, Natalie had been a fierce protector. But that didn’t make her a good mother, in Sid’s book anyway.

  ‘I’ll stick up for you with Mum,’ Jake was saying.

  ‘And I’ll learn to survive without a mob,’ she said. ‘I have to start standing up for myself. My baby, my choice.’

  ‘I’ll be your mob, sis.’

  32

  Watercolour Cove, 2015

  A mob of wild horses could not have dragged Natalie back to this town. The love of her children had brought her here and deposited her overnight in the dingiest motel on the planet because there hadn’t been an available motel room or cabin anywhere in Coffs Harbour.

  Ridiculous!

  Due to the weekend car rally, and all the tourists, she’d had to accept her daughter’s invitation to stay at this Watercolour Cove place for the next two nights. As soon as Natalie could find a room in a nice beachside resort back in Coffs, she would. When Jake was discharged she’d secure him a room of his own. He’d need his mother, but he’d also need his privacy, especially with a girl on the scene. Natalie had made a mental note to make a few subtle enquiries. It couldn’t be too hard to find out about a girl named Pearl who lived in a beach shack.

 
; In the meantime, here was Natalie accompanying her daughter and quietly curious about the idyllically named Watercolour Cove, thinking what a lovely title for a residential estate. No doubt a developer had carved up a slice of the forest on the outskirts of Coffs Harbour, given the place a stylish name to justify the hefty house and land package prices, and created another satellite suburb. Coffs Harbour, these days, seemed to be bursting with new housing.

  The view from her window seat on the flight in had been both spectacular and surprising. The plane’s approach followed a dozen pristine beaches before descending low over the magnificent marina precinct. What she hadn’t expected to see from the air was the sprawling regional city, its once green landscape now marred by deforestation, development, and white bird netting, with newly established residential pockets sticking out like the proverbial sore thumb. Now, from inside her daughter’s Jeep, there seemed to be nothing but chain-wire fencing along a new highway that allowed truck convoys to travel at terrifying speeds. Nervous and a little queasy, Natalie focused her stare out the passenger window and remembered those times Hilda had tasked Ulf with collecting something from Coffs Harbour. Tilly would ask to go along–just the thought of getting out of Dinghy Bay for a day was enough to put up with Ulf and his smutty jokes.

  Sid had mentioned their destination today was quite a bit south of Coffs CBD and Natalie had wondered if they would drive right by, or come close to, Dinghy Bay, which was obviously still too small a town for inclusion on the map Nat had discovered among the motel room’s tourism brochures. She had checked the map’s index, curious despite herself, but Dinghy Bay wasn’t listed.

  ‘Fine,’ Natalie had muttered to herself at the time. She had no intention of seeking out the place of her youth anyway. But as the Jeep now ploughed south, she had butterflies in her stomach and with each passing landmark she recognised, those butterflies took flight for a few seconds.

  Sidney was pointing things out as she drove, prattling excitedly–or a little nervously, Natalie had thought at one stage–about the amazing place they’d been staying at, and how much Natalie would love the amazing local gallery. Then she chatted about how impressed her new boss had been with Sid’s amazing knowledge and appreciation of art. Natalie was only half-listening, lost in her own thoughts, though she did pause briefly to wonder why her beautiful, smart, amazing daughter was so excited about selling small-town arts and crafts.

  ‘Everything okay out your window, Mum?’ Sid asked a little pointedly, drawing Natalie back to the unchanging landscape.

  The narrow, unkempt road they’d travelled since leaving the highway was becoming frighteningly familiar to Natalie, like the road that had once wound around the hills to connect Dinghy Bay to the old highway.

  ‘This place we’re staying is further away from Jake than I’d hoped.’

  ‘Not long now. Besides, the nurses seemed to think the drain in his leg won’t be needed, so he could be out as early as tomorrow. No doubt glad to be rid of him!’ Sid laughed. ‘That will mean we’ll get to collect him and come back home–all three of us, here.’

  ‘Home. Yes.’

  After another ten minutes of silence, and another all-too-recognisable bend in this narrow back road, Natalie developed an overwhelming urge to be sick. She gripped the doorhandle, her fight-or-flight instincts kicking into overdrive as her daughter slowed before a sharp left turn.

  ‘Stop the car, Sidney!’

  ‘Mum?’

  ‘Stop!’

  A little down the road, with the Jeep barely at a standstill, Natalie flung the passenger-side door open.

  ‘Mum! Wait! Be careful of the ditch.’

  ‘I’m fine. Give me a minute.’ Natalie was half in, half out of the car, feeling the cool of a winter’s day and a sea breeze on her face.

  ‘Are you going to be sick? We’re almost done with the winding roads.’ Sidney leaned over and popped the glovebox, snatching several tissues. ‘Only a few more bends. Get in, Mum, it’s freezing.’ The temperature inside her daughter’s car was warmer, and Natalie hauled herself back into her seat, but she didn’t close her door. ‘On the way to the caravan park, where I’ve booked you a villa, we pass what locals call the Greenhill plantation road. I want to show you something before we go into town. The view from the top is so incredible that tourists tackle the roadway just to see it.’

  ‘No. I don’t want to go up there.’

  ‘Relax, Mum.’ Sid leaned forward to pat the dashboard. ‘I’ve put the Jeep to the test a few times, so I know what I’m saying. The place is included in the scenic tourist route. Pearl said the drive up is part of the thrill.’

  ‘Pearl lives up there? So you and Jake are staying in a beach house in this Watercolour Cove place. That’s what you told me, right?’ Natalie clarified.

  ‘No, Mum, I said Pearl is living in a beach house and Jake dreams of living in one. Like he’s ever going to have the money to buy real estate–even an old shack in a place like this. Shame you missed Pearl at the hospital. Wait until you meet her. You’ll see why the guy is so hooked.’

  ‘No, Sidney. I don’t want to.’

  ‘Why don’t you want to meet her, Mum? You’ll love her. I think Jakey does already. She’s lovely and makes this amazing tea blend with honey straight from the hive. I’ll make you one. I have some in my room. Honest, Mum, let me take you up the mountain. The view at the top is worth the drive. Then I’ll take you to the villa.’

  ‘Oh, Sidney, I am not talking about Pearl. Of course I want to meet the girl my son’s been talking about. It’s the mountain. I am most certainly not going up there. I don’t even want to stay here.’

  ‘But I’ve paid in advance.’ Sid was sounding a little miffed. ‘No fancy ribbons, but still well appointed and very comfortable. I asked for the Gumnut Cabin specifically–from the veranda you can see the breakwall. But I thought, with the Greenhill property on the way, I could stop there first, freshen up and–’

  ‘This is the place you’re staying?’

  ‘That’s what I’ve been telling you, Mum.’

  ‘The town is called Watercolour Cove and I have accommodation for the night–here?’

  ‘A couple of nights, yes.’

  ‘Well then, I’d like to go straight to the villa.’ Natalie huffed, her head jerking back against the headrest. ‘You can drop me in town. I’ll wait for you there while you go wherever it is you need to go.’

  ‘But the gallery is–’

  ‘For goodness sake, Sidney, I’ve seen enough galleries in my time. I hardly think this town is the art and cultural hub of the mid-north coast. If you want to make it in the art world, you won’t do it by staying in a place like this. How would our work get any notice out here?’

  ‘Our work, Mum?’ Sid was staring at her, those big brown eyes blinking in confusion. ‘Whose work are you talking about? What did you mean by–?’

  ‘Oh, Sidney, stop with all the questions. Please.’ The passenger door slammed closed so hard her daughter jumped, then burst into tears, her head dropping to her hands on the steering wheel.

  ‘Sid, Sid, I’m sorry. Come on, now, buck up.’ Natalie reached over, wanting to pull her daughter close, wanting to cuddle, like she’d wanted to comfort her children after their father died, but she’d been too numb with shock to be any good to anyone. Shock is what had Natalie’s stomach tied in knots. ‘I’m not sure what came over me, except I don’t think my stomach can cope with any more twists and turns. Forgive me?’

  Sid sniffed, nodded and straightened up in the driver’s seat, engaging the gears. She wiped both cheeks with her hands and steered back onto the roadway. When she veered left, away from the mountain, Natalie knew exactly where they were headed.

  She took several deep breaths and tried telling herself Greenhill didn’t matter. There would be nothing there for her anymore. Nothing mattered except surviving two nights in this town before returning to Coffs. From the look of the Land for Sale sign she’d glimpsed as they drove by, the Greenhi
ll property might become yet another residential estate. Sadness added to the coiling emotions tightening inside her as Sid parked outside the old caravan park. Natalie alighted, knowing from where she stood, if she looked she would glimpse the top of the mountain. She couldn’t look. She didn’t want to see.

  Never look back.

  • • •

  The name Watercolour Cove was plastered everywhere: on the caravan park signage, the coloured bunting on poles along the main street, in the now formalised breakwall car park across the way, and painted on the toilet block that probably no longer smelled of old fishermen and fish guts. The Dinghy Bay she remembered was no more–changed, charming, fancier and more colourful.

  Natalie whipped her sunglasses from her handbag to hide her face. ‘Sid, please pop the tailgate so I can get my suitcase. Then you can go. I can manage to check myself into a villa. I’m quite exhausted and happy to turn in for the evening.’

  ‘G’day!’ A young man wandered across from the petrol bowser as Natalie attempted to remove her bag, heavy with coats for a Melbourne winter. ‘Checking in?’

  ‘Gumnut Cabin,’ Sid said. ‘It’s paid for.’

  ‘Then I’ll take your bag over, if ya want?’

  ‘Thank you,’ Natalie said, hoping the boy’s hands were clean. ‘See? All under control, Sid. Please collect me early in the morning so I can be back with Jake as soon as possible.’

  ‘Can’t I help you settle in?’

  ‘There is no settling in, Sidney. It’s two nights. I can take it from here. I’m looking forward to a rest. Off you go.’

  ‘You don’t want to eat dinner? I’m starving. The Fishermen’s Club does a–’

  ‘Sidney, this isn’t a holiday. Jake is in hospital. I also don’t need to remind you–’ She stopped short. ‘Forgive me, darling.’ If only you knew how truly special you are to me and how desperate I am right at this minute to protect you. To protect us. Natalie reached out to raise her daughter’s face, to show her a smile. ‘I’m tired and I’ve been very worried for your brother, but that’s no excuse for snapping at you. Tomorrow will be better.’