Still, Natalie felt blessed. Loss and grief tear some families apart. The lucky ones bond, stronger than ever. For Natalie, the weekly trips back and forth between Coffs Harbour and the Blue Mountains, many with Jake sitting cocky but quiet behind the wheel of his sister’s Jeep, began to blur. At the same time, hours of small talk and sitting side by side had opened her eyes to her son’s ambitions, his passions, his dreams.
Jake was all grown up.
Where had Natalie been?
Watercolour Cove had mellowed her son. He’d matured and become more responsible. In the weeks following Sid’s farewell, the two of them had cried together, laughed and found courage through each other. They’d needed that combined strength to survive the funeral.
David had been there, Tash and Marcus too. Bill and Kath had packed the motorhome to make the two-hour car trip from Casino to Coffs Harbour, arriving without their son. A good thing, too, Natalie had thought at the time. She might have rammed that phone where it hurt for the promised text message Damien never did send. Natalie had, however, written a long and carefully scripted letter to his parents after the funeral, thanking them and slipping in subtle hints about their son’s lack of interest in the baby. She may even have mentioned how Damien had never got around to dividing their various joint assets, leaving Sid–and now her daughter, Grace–with nothing after seven years living together and supporting Damien’s business venture.
Kath and Bill were lovely, sharing both Natalie’s grief over Sid and her anger over Damien. But they’d forgive him. Sometimes you had to accept and forgive because it’s simply unbearable to go on and not have that person in your life. Bill and Kath were his parents and also grandparents to Grace, and Natalie let them know they would always be welcome in her life.
After the service, Natalie hadn’t wanted to deal with the tragic come-back-and-eat-sandwiches tradition. She’d simply needed time alone in the small lawn cemetery on the outskirts of Watercolour Cove, contemplating the brass plaque that now marked a life taken away too soon.
One decision had been easy. Burying her daughter in the small town where Sidney had wanted to raise her child made sense. In those final days, Sid had told Natalie she felt a connection to Watercolour Cove and to the people there. A few more weeks, a few days, even a few more hours and Natalie might have got to tell Sidney why.
If only you’d lived long enough for me to tell you the truth.
‘Long enough to be disappointed in me,’ Natalie had told David after the funeral. ‘I don’t want to make the same mistake with Grace, or with Jake.’
She and Jake had talked a lot on those drives to and from Watercolour Cove, where her son had secured full-time work for the first time in his short life. Pearl had helped him apply for some sort of road worker apprenticeship. A construction company, contracted to improve the Pacific Highway, was offering regionally-based people two years paid work. The arrangement would also earn him study credits towards a certificate at TAFE, and a pathway into road engineering.
‘I never knew you wanted to take after your father,’ Natalie had said during one trip. ‘As a toddler, it was all about owning your own fishing boat.’
‘Only so I didn’t have some boss telling me what to do,’ he’d said. ‘Much rather be cooking fish than catching it. My own little café is the dream.’
Natalie tried her best not to look surprised. ‘Yes, you’re a very good cook. I’ve missed my Monday night seafood treat.’
She should have known that about her son, shouldn’t she? Or had she always been too busy dragging her children through her own dreams to notice their changing aspirations?
‘Pearl and I agreed that when life throws curve balls you duck, then change dreams,’ her son had said. ‘Improvise, adapt, overcome. I told Sid that.’
‘You did?’
‘We got to talk a bit during our time at Greenhill. She said if I was serious about owning my own café one day I’d better start saving. You and Dad helped each other, and he started on a road crew, didn’t he? Dad did all right, too. You and he made sure us kids got a good start to life. The rest is up to me. I’m not going to waste any more time fluffing about. Time to knuckle down, as Dad would say.’
Bravo! Natalie had wanted to shout. She knew Jake had it in him. Some people simply took longer to realise their true potential.
‘My café dream isn’t going away, Mum, and I’m not fazed about it being hard work. I figure I can leave it simmering for a while.’ Jake winked. ‘Besides, Pearl said she can keep me in seafood between now and then.’
Her son fell quiet–something Natalie had been getting used to since telling Jake that David was his father’s brother. That much was true. No reason to hide the fact from her son.
‘So I have an uncle, eh?’ he’d said in his usual Jake style. ‘Well, flip me a fishcake! Reckon Sid would have approved. She told me once she sometimes wished we had a bigger family. We both did.’
‘Yes,’ Natalie had replied. ‘And I’m sure Sid would have loved David.’
David had been the one to insist people didn’t need to know the whole truth. With Sid gone, the small but significant fact that David was her birth father could stay out of any public records.
‘Out of the public records–yes,’ Natalie had reluctantly concurred with David over the telephone. One of numerous calls a week. ‘Tasha’s husband has seen to that the best he can, but I won’t keep the truth from family. One day a curious, sagacious young woman called Grace might start digging around the family tree and asking questions.’
‘If she takes after her mother, she certainly will.’
‘It would be wrong not to make things right,’ Natalie told David. ‘You once said I shouldn’t use Sidney’s life to correct my mistakes. But if I don’t it will mean all the hurt I caused hasn’t taught me anything. I might never have wanted to delve into my family’s past, but that was mostly because I wasn’t proud of my roots. I was ashamed. But life is no longer just about me. I have Grace to think about. Times have changed. Grace needs to know everything. She needs to know who she is so she can make her own life choices. Hopefully the right ones.’
Natalie had done the right thing and contacted Damien again regarding the birth registration. She would apply for adoption but wanted to be sure things were set right first. Sid had put the words father unknown on the hospital admission paperwork, but Natalie knew that was wrong and she wanted to do right by Kath and Bill, who doted on Grace. Such a pity their son had refused to acknowledge his daughter in any way. In the end, Grace’s birth certificate did not name her father and it saddened Natalie to see Damien estrange himself from his parents because they refused to stay out of Grace’s life, even in an unofficial capacity.
As the weeks and months passed, Natalie found reasons to smile again. She’d visit Grace in hospital, catch up with David for coffee and an occasional meal, tick another thing off her to-do list, or be surprised by the changes in her son.
‘Sidney, you’d be so proud of your brother,’ Natalie would say to the stars at night. For the first time in her life she wished heaven did exist. Her daughter would be there.
You must be asking lots of question, but you’re there, sweet angel!
Natalie once thought Matthew might have gone to heaven, too, along with all the other innocent victims of 9/11. But, as it turned out, Matthew was not an innocent at all. He’d manipulated her, when all the while she’d thought it was the other way around. The truth was, Matthew probably never saw what he was doing as wrong. That’s just the way he was.
As hurtful as it might be for her granddaughter, one day–as soon as she was old enough to understand–Grace would know the truth. Natalie was planning on a bright and positive future for them all, but first she had to rid herself of an unpleasant past.
• • •
The following January, when the gardens at Brushstrokes looked their finest, good old Tash had flown back up from Melbourne to help Nat prepare Brushstrokes for the auction, which was just
as well, as Natalie had her hands full with Grace. Since bringing her granddaughter home, she’d moved into the small Dharug House, because Brushstrokes had too many bad memories. Wanting a fresh start meant selling the B & B and most things, bar Nat’s personal belongings and her artworks. Tash had recommended a business broker and stylist to ensure the best price at auction, not that the business was a going concern anymore. According to the broker, a shrewd buyer would see beyond the B & B’s grim history, see the potential for income, and snap up both properties well before auction night. Natalie just had to find a way to say goodbye to Brushstrokes in the Bush–her dream.
She’d never been without a dream that wasn’t in her control: to make a home, to be a loving wife and mother, to nurture her love of art. She’d learned how to do all those things.
‘What now, Tash?’ she asked as her friend poured champagne into two glasses. ‘I hope I can do this right.’
Tasha had been a constant visitor to the Blue Mountains, happy to wrangle the broker and help where she could while Natalie struggled with the demands of motherhood–again.
‘Come on, Nat, sweetie,’ she said. ‘You have to pull it together. Think about Grace and everything you need to do. There are decisions to be made. You’re in charge of her future. Buck up, I believe is the line you’d give the kids. Come on, give us a smile.’
‘I don’t have it in me right now. Ask me tomorrow maybe. My days are a bit like that, still.’
‘I understand, but, sweetie, brokering a deal on the B & B far in excess of your expectations is fabulous.’ Tash plonked her butt on the kitchen seat opposite, tossed one end of the scarf over a shoulder and raised her glass. ‘An extra eighty thousand dollars on top of your asking price is not bad, and even better in your pocket. You can set yourself up anywhere–even another gallery. Whatever will make you and Grace happy. The broker just needs the go-ahead. You know you are both welcome in Melbourne with me.’
‘Grace and I will be fine. I have my eye on a small flat in Leura that we’ll call home for now,’ Nat said. ‘Just waiting on the property manager to get back to me.’
‘I almost forgot,’ Tasha said, peeling the lightweight over-shirt off her shoulders as the first signs of a hot flush coloured her cheeks pink. She plucked an envelope from the side pocket and fanned her face a few times before handing it to Nat. ‘This was in the mailbox.’
‘From Damien’s parents?’ Nat ripped at the paper envelope. Inside was a small note, written in a woman’s hand.
‘What’s it say? What’s it say?’
‘Hold on, Tash. Oh, my!’
‘What? What?’
‘It says a trust fund will be established for Grace in due course, as soon as Damien is able to either sell the Melbourne apartment, or some of the share portfolio built up during his and Sidney’s relationship.’
‘Seriously? Let me see.’ Tasha leaned in, dropped her half-glasses from her head to her nose, and tugged at Nat’s hand holding the letter.
‘Kath says they’ll be in touch and they send hugs to little Grace.’
As if on cue, a tiny squawk sounded from the baby monitor on the kitchen counter.
‘Oh, let me,’ Tash said. ‘I need to get my Gracie fill before I fly home next week–assuming you haven’t changed your mind in the last five minutes.’
Tash left Natalie staring at the documents strewn across the same kitchen table where she and Sid used to argue about recycling paper. How many times they’d disagreed. So many arguments easily avoided had Natalie told the truth from the start.
At least with Damien refusing any involvement in the child’s upbringing, Natalie would not have to fight to keep Grace. She would be the one to look after her, just as Sidney had told her she wanted on the night her waters broke.
There was something else Sidney had said that night and it meant Natalie would need to return to Watercolour Cove again, and soon. Besides, she missed Jake. She wanted to see him happy and get to know the girl who had won her son’s heart.
That’s what parents do.
57
Watercolour Cove, 2015
Jake had offered to collect Natalie from Coffs Harbour airport. Instead, Natalie told him she was looking forward to the drive up, rather than flying. Seven hours, just her and the highway and Little Bump safe and snug in her brand-new, top-of-the-line capsule in the back seat. She’d wanted time to think and to practise what she would say when she saw David.
As she passed over the Mooney Mooney Creek Bridge that Matthew had worked on early in his career, Natalie imagined Sid and Jake on their road trip only last winter.
Where had the time gone?
Sid had been on a secret mission to find her estranged grandfather. Both children were family oriented, which was so unlike Nat and Matthew. Natalie guessed that as parents they must have done something right. Now, having had six months with Grace, Natalie was going to right another wrong.
Once she reached the bottom of the mountain, as she passed through the Greenhill gates, she made a pact with herself to make peace with the past and never forget. There would also be no more Natalie. It was time to learn from all the mistakes and accept who she really was.
Her name was Tilly and she was starting over.
She had a baby to love.
Her name was Grace.
‘Hi-ya!’ Pearl waved from outside the Rose Gallery. ‘If you’re looking for Jake, he’s at work. Seven days straight this week. Then he’ll be home to cook up a Jake special for dinner.’
‘Music to my ears, Pearl.’ Tilly smiled. ‘I’ll catch up with him later. I have to see–Oh, hello David.’
‘Tilly? Did I know you were coming? What a lovely surprise.’ David shot Pearl a look. ‘You can head off. I’ll lock up.’
‘Cool. See ya.’
David looked at Natalie and shrugged. ‘She used to hang around a lot. Since Jake moved into her place on the beach, I can’t keep her up here much at all.’
‘Young love,’ Tilly said.
‘I remember it well,’ David returned, opening the back door to Tilly’s car. ‘Let me get Grace and I’ll make us some tea. Would you like tea?’
‘Maybe some water?’ she replied, watching anxiously as he struggled with the baby capsule. She was keen to help, to take over, but she refrained and concentrated on her own task–preparing the one-clip-wonder pram meant to turn the car safety restraint into a push-pram with one quick flick of the wrist. Tilly hoped to have mastered the manoeuvre before Grace outgrew the thing.
David beamed, having successfully extracted the capsule and snapped it one-handed into the pram’s frame. His grin told her he didn’t need any help when it came to his granddaughter. He placed one of his crutches horizontally across the pram’s sunshade, his progress back to the house slow, but Tilly didn’t mind–she could watch the two of them gurgling and grinning together all day. When he finally caught up to where Tilly waited, they walked together towards the veranda, via the ramp. Some things would always be a struggle, like negotiating steps–with or without a pram.
He ensured Grace was out of the sun and shooed the inquisitive Pablo away.
‘Are you sure you don’t want tea?’
‘Only water,’ she replied, smiling. ‘And, yes, I promise to be here when you get back. In fact, you sit. I’ll get the water.’
‘Don’t.’
‘Don’t what, David?’
‘I don’t need people doing things for me, especially you, Tilly. I’m sorry if that sounds bloody-minded, but I’ve been looking after myself for a long time.’
‘You shouldn’t have been alone. I’m so sorry for that.’
‘Let’s stop apologising, shall we. It’s all okay between us. Everything is okay. It happened and I’ve been managing all these years without anyone fetching or fixing things. I would never have known how strong, or how determined, I could be if I hadn’t spent months staring at my reflection in that mirror suspended over my hospital bed.’ David went to walk away.
‘
David, wait, I wasn’t trying to fix anything.’ Tilly dropped into the closest seat and hung her head in both hands. ‘This isn’t how I planned today. You have to give me time to adjust. It’s only been six months. I’m trying not to make any more mistakes.’
There was silence on the veranda, except for baby Grace making little grunting sounds.
‘Hey, come on, let’s start over.’ He smiled as Tilly lifted her gaze to meet his. ‘In fact, let’s both go and get us a drink. That way I can make sure you stick around.’
Tilly checked on a sleeping Grace, releasing the wheel brake on the pram before following David inside.
‘You’ve changed things,’ she said upon entering the main house. What had been more museum than home, an accumulation of furniture and artworks from three generations of the Green and Hill families, was now light-filled and less cluttered, making pram-pushing easier, too.
‘As it was, the place was hardly safe for inquisitive little strangers who might visit from time to time.’ He looked down at Grace and smiled. ‘Especially once this little one starts walking. You could say I’m putting my house in order. Time I pulled my head out of my arse and did what I’ve always wanted to do. What we always wanted to do.’
Tilly caught her breath. ‘An artist’s retreat?’
‘I’ve had a couple of attempts, but my heart was never in it. Mum dying has changed things. Besides, with you having sold Brushstrokes I reckon I might cash in on your clientele.’
‘Ha! Half my clientele didn’t pay, which Sidney was forever harking on about, bless her.’ Tilly positioned Grace’s pram beside the kitchen counter and saw Sidney’s face looking back and gurgling contentment. ‘Your mum had a good head for business, Little Bump. Oh, yes she did,’ Tilly cooed. Then, feeling David’s gaze, she looked up. He was smiling. ‘No wonder Damien’s business got such a good start, with Sidney to do all the work. I see he’s floated the company now and that can only be a good thing for Grace’s future.’
Other Side of the Season Page 33
