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The Art of Friendship

Page 4

by Lisa Ireland


  Libby picked up almost immediately. ‘I’m so glad you called. I was thinking about calling you but I figured you’d be on the train by now.’

  Kit grinned. ‘I am, but I wanted to talk to you so badly that I decided to call anyway. I wanted to catch you before you left for the community centre.’

  ‘Oh, I’ve got a while yet. In fact you have perfect timing. I’ve just this minute sat down with a cup of tea.’

  ‘Are you still on cloud nine?’

  ‘Yeah, I am, but . . .’ Libby hesitated.

  ‘What? Please don’t tell me there’s a chance you’ll change your mind about this?’

  Libby laughed. ‘Settle down. There’s no chance of that now. Cam accepted the position this morning. I expect he’s signing the contract as we speak. I was just going to say there’s such a lot to do in a very short amount of time.’

  ‘Oh.’ Kit hadn’t really stopped to think about the logistics of the move. ‘Yes, I suppose there is. Is there anything I can do at this end? Help with finding a school for Harry, perhaps? Ring removalists? Anything at all, Lib, I mean it.’

  Libby laughed again. ‘Thanks, but Cam’s new company is taking care of pretty much everything at that end. It’s more about all the things that have to happen up here – deciding what we need to take and what can go into storage, giving notice at the community centre, and well, I don’t really know what else. I’m about to make a list.’

  ‘It’s a shame you have to give up your job at the centre. I’m sure you’ll pick up something pretty easily here, though. People are always fascinated when I tell them I have a friend who teaches a course in “granny arts”.’

  Libby seemed to hesitate for a minute. ‘No, look, I think I might give up the teaching for bit. I want to be on hand to help Harry settle into his new school and I’ll guess I’ll be busy at first getting the house sorted – it’s not really my style, so there’s a bit of work to do there. I think I’ll give myself a bit of time off before I look for work. It’s not like we’ll need the money. Who knows, I might decide never to go back.’

  ‘Really?’ Kit couldn’t keep the surprise out of her voice. ‘But what would you do with yourself? I know parenting Harry has kept you busy all these years, but he’s in high school now. Wouldn’t you be bored?’

  ‘I think I’ll have my hands full with the move to begin with.’ There was a hint of defensiveness in Libby’s voice. ‘And I’ve been thinking I might go back to uni at some point.’

  ‘Ah, that makes sense.’ Kit said, feeling even happier than she had a moment ago. She’d often tried to convince Libby to finish her law degree – Libby was so smart, she’d breeze through – but until now Libby had shown little interest in returning to university. Kit was fairly sure that Cameron was at the root of her reluctance. Libby had never said as much, but once or twice she’d hinted that this was the case.

  ‘Actually, Kit, now that I think about it, there is something you could maybe help me out with.’

  ‘You name it.’

  ‘Well, you know this art class thing I go to on Wednesdays and Fridays?’

  ‘I do.’

  ‘Well, the Friday class isn’t really a class. It’s actually a group for artists. I feel like such a tosser telling you this, but it’s a group for artists who are working towards an exhibition.’

  Kit couldn’t have been more surprised. Libby had been going to this ‘class’ for months and had never said a word about exhibiting. ‘God, Lib, that’s amazing. Why have you never told me this?’

  ‘I don’t know. I guess it didn’t seem real at first. My teacher from the Wednesday class encouraged me to join the group. He thinks I have potential and has pushed me to work towards an exhibition at some point. I guess at first I didn’t really believe it was possible, but I went along to the group anyway, just to make him happy. I don’t really know if I have any talent, but I love painting, Kit. I can easily lose hours at the easel.’ Libby spoke quickly, her voice laced with excitement, but then she paused. When she spoke again her voice was quieter, more earnest. ‘I haven’t told anyone about the exhibition. Not even Cam. He knows I take art classes, of course, but he doesn’t know about my dream to exhibit.’ She laughed self-consciously. ‘That sounds so wanky, doesn’t it?’

  ‘Not at all. Libby, this is something to be proud of. You should be shouting it from the rooftops! I’d definitely tell Cam.’

  ‘Well that’s just the thing. I really don’t want to, not yet. I can’t really explain this, but the painting is just for me. I’m not ready to share it with the world yet. I know Cam will support me, it’s not that. It’s just . . . I don’t know. I kind of feel like if I tell people there will be an expectation to achieve something, and I’m not sure I’m ready for that. Maybe one day I will be, I don’t know. So anyway, I have five large canvases that I need to store somewhere. Right now they’re at the community centre, but I can’t expect the centre to store them once I’ve moved on. I could arrange to have them put into storage up here, of course, but I’d rather have them nearby if possible, so I was wondering if –’

  ‘Yes, yes. Have them shipped to my place. I’ve got plenty of room. In fact I could clean out the spare room and you could use it as a studio if you like.’

  ‘That’s really nice of you, but let’s just worry about one thing at a time. Once I’m in Melbourne I’ll probably look for another class or a studio, but I really appreciate you hanging onto the canvases for me in the meantime.’

  Kit didn’t really understand Libby’s marriage. What sort of partnership did Libby and Cam have if she couldn’t share her passion with him? But she supposed it wasn’t her place to judge. Libby seemed mostly happy with the way things were, even if Kit found aspects of the relationship strange. ‘Of course. I’d be happy to help out. Just let me know when they’re coming and I’ll organise to be here.’

  ‘Thanks so much, Kit. And thanks for working on Harry for us last night.’

  ‘My pleasure. He didn’t sound overly excited about the move, so I did my best to provide some incentive. How is he today? Has he come around to the idea at all?’

  Libby sighed. ‘Actually I’m a bit worried about him. He went off this morning in a bit of a mood.’

  ‘Ah, don’t worry, he’ll come around. I expect he’s worried about leaving his friends behind. Remember how we thought it was the end of the world when we went off to different schools after year nine? But we survived, and Harry will too.’

  ‘I guess so.’ Libby didn’t sound particularly confident.

  ‘It won’t be so bad. It didn’t take us long to make new friends. Harry will be fine.’

  ‘You made friends pretty quickly when you moved to Footscray,’ Libby said. ‘But I hated boarding school at first. The first term away from home was awful.’

  Kit shifted her weight from one foot to the other to keep her balance as the train rounded a bend. ‘I don’t remember you saying that at the time.’

  ‘No, well, I was getting letters from you saying how wonderful your new school was and I didn’t want to let on what a loser I was in comparison. It was tricky being at such a flash school on a scholarship. I felt like such an outsider at first.’

  Kit felt a stab of remorse. She’d actually enhanced her school experience in her letters to Libby because she didn’t want to appear to be a loser. ‘Oh Lib, that’s awful. You should have said something. I wish I’d known what a hard time you were having.’

  Libby brushed her concern away. ‘Goodness, don’t worry. All that was years ago now. And you’re right. I did make friends in the end. And it will be different for Harry. Hopefully he’ll settle in quickly and all this worry on my part will have been for nothing.’

  ‘He’s a good kid. I’m sure he’ll fit right in. At least he knows something about AFL, so he won’t be penalised for following the wrong code. Being a Bulldogs supporter will give him instant frien
dships. You and Cam will be thanking me for all those years of brainwashing I did, just you wait and see.’

  Libby laughed. ‘Maybe.’

  The train slowed as it approached the platform at Flinders Street. ‘Sorry Lib, I’ve got to go, but I’ll be around all weekend if you want to chat. I just want to say again how excited I am that you’re finally coming home.’ The train doors opened and Libby’s reply was lost in the noise of peak hour commuters. But it didn’t matter. Kit didn’t need to hear the words to know her friend felt exactly the same way.

  Chapter 4

  ‘I can’t believe you’re really leaving, Lib.’ Melissa folded her arms across her chest and briefly frowned before directing her attention back to the game. ‘Go, Kyle, attaboy. RUN!!’

  Libby held her breath as Kyle dribbled the ball down the field and then passed deftly to Harry, who was in kicking distance of the goal. Please, please, get it in, Harry. But the kick was intercepted by an opposition player who, it had to be said, was nearly twice Harry’s size, and Harry was hardly tiny. Surely that kid couldn’t be the same age as her boy?

  ‘Goddammit!’ Melissa said under her breath.

  Libby felt herself colouring. She knew Harry only had a place in this team because Dan, Melissa’s husband, was the coach. Harry wasn’t exactly a passionate player, and would have been better suited to the club’s second-string team, where the focus was more on fun than on winning. But Melissa had insisted on all the boys playing together.

  Melissa said Kyle wouldn’t want to play in a team without all his best mates. More like Melissa didn’t want to be without any of her entourage at the games. And what Melissa wanted, Melissa got. Despite Libby’s fear that Harry would be out of his depth, Melissa convinced Dan that Harry was a great player, all he needed was a bit of confidence and some extra practice. Of course Cam had been delighted to see his son playing in the firsts. He told Libby that she should stop fussing so much and so she’d relented, a decision that she sometimes regretted. Dan’s coaching was full-on. The kids trained twice a week and he insisted that they play together in the summer comp in order to give them an edge in the proper season. It was over-the-top as far as Libby was concerned, but Cam thought it was good for Harry to be involved in as much physical activity as possible. ‘Playing sport kept me and my brothers out of trouble when we were kids,’ he insisted. ‘And I met some of my best mates through cricket and soccer.’ Libby certainly didn’t want Harry being left out of the friendship group, and so here they were at a soccer game in the supposed off-season.

  Kyle, Jasper, Sam and Harry had been best friends since kindy, so it had seemed only natural that their mothers follow suit. Libby had never really stopped to question whether she would have chosen these women as friends in her pre-child life. The boys were friends, which meant their mothers would inevitably end up spending a lot of time together. Luckily these particular mums had turned out to be pretty good company. She saw Melissa, Nicole and Kate most days of the week, even if it was just for a few minutes at pick-up or drop-off. She was fortunate that her schedule allowed her to do the school run most days. Absence from the school gate meant being out of the loop. Stay away for too long and risk being the target of gossip, was the standard joke, which would’ve been funnier if it weren’t true. She’d worked hard to ingratiate herself with Melissa – the self-appointed Queen Bee of their sons’ year level – and Libby wasn’t going to risk being usurped by some Jenny-come-lately. She made her daily presence in the schoolyard a priority, frequently stopping by her local café to bring her friends their favourite coffees. ‘God, Lib, you’re a lifesaver,’ Melissa said at least once a week. ‘You have no idea how much I need this. I owe you one.’ And Melissa was true to her word. She often shouted Libby breakfast on Tuesday mornings after their spin class.

  Melissa glanced sideways at her again, clearly embarrassed that Libby had overheard her curse Harry’s miss. ‘Good try, Harry,’ she called. ‘You’ll get it next time.’

  Libby smiled, knowing full well that if this were a normal match instead of the summer season Christmas break-up, Melissa probably wouldn’t be so magnanimous.

  ‘So when are you leaving?’ Nicole asked, as she clapped along with Melissa for a play she hadn’t actually watched. Nicole’s son Jasper was the youngest of four rambunctious boys. Libby didn’t know how she coped with the demands of mothering all those kids, but somehow Nic was the most relaxed of their little clique.

  ‘Really soon. They want Cam to start early in the new year and obviously we thought it’d be best for Harry if he could have some time to settle in there before starting at his new school.’

  ‘How did Harry take the news?’ Kate asked, without taking her eyes off Sam.

  Libby thought about the full-blown tantrum she’d had to endure once the impact of this move had become apparent to Harry. He’d been reasonably okay when Cam presented the idea to him, buoyed by the prospect of the Bulldogs membership, the pool and most especially the dog. But by the next morning – once Cam had gone to work, of course – he’d had time to think about all the negatives. That’s when the shouting began. He’d abused Libby and accused her of being the one who wanted to move. When she denied this he’d sworn at her. ‘You’re a fucking liar,’ he’d yelled. ‘Dad hates Melbourne. He’s just trying to make you happy. This is your fault and I’ll never forgive you.’ The vehemence with which he spoke had shaken her, so much so that she’d been unable to talk to anyone else about it. She’d thought about telling Kit on the phone yesterday, but decided against it. She didn’t want Kit getting the wrong idea. Harry was a good kid and this behaviour was totally out of character.

  ‘He’s a little anxious about it all, of course. And he’s devastated about leaving the boys behind.’

  Melissa and Kate nodded their heads in unison, neither of them shifting their gaze from the game. ‘Aren’t you worried about him moving schools, especially after the hoops you had to jump through to get him into St Pat’s?’ Kate asked.

  Hoops indeed. At one point Libby’d considered converting to Catholicism, which her mother would definitely never have forgiven her for. Fortunately Cam was a token Catholic, and despite not being regular churchgoers they somehow managed to secure Harry a place. Kate was right, she’d sweated on this placement, and been sure St Pat’s was the perfect school for Harry. It had a fabulous academic record, and a reputation for producing high achievers. Cam had teased her about it at the time. ‘I thought you were anti “the inequalities that a two-tiered system created”,’ he’d said when she’d first mentioned the prospect of Harry going to St Pat’s.

  ‘I am in theory. But it exists, Cam, and even though I don’t think the system is equitable I don’t see how sending Harry to a public school will change that. It’s not fair, I know that, but we can afford a private education and I’m not prepared to sacrifice Harry’s future for the sake of making a point.’

  He’d just grinned then, and even though he never said the words, she knew he was thinking I told you so.

  After all they’d been through to get Harry enrolled at St Pat’s it seemed incredible that he wouldn’t finish his education there. But she had to admit what was on offer in Melbourne was a step up. ‘Cam’s new company is subsidising Harry’s attendance at Claybourne Grammar School, which has a very good reputation, I believe.’

  ‘Still, it’ll be hard for him to leave all his friends,’ Kate said.

  Before Libby could reply, Nicole piped up: ‘Ah, kids are more resilient than we give them credit for. He’ll be right, Lib, I’m sure.’

  Libby gave her a grateful smile just as the full-time siren sounded.

  After the game, as Libby watched Harry rough-housing with the other boys, she wondered if they were doing the right thing. Every part of Harry’s life – his education, the sports he played, even the friends he played with – had been carefully chosen by her. Now that tightly held control was slipping through her f
ingers. Yes, the move to Melbourne was a step up for them all, but what if they didn’t fit in there? She comforted herself with the fact that Claybourne was exactly the type of school she would have chosen for Harry if they’d been able to afford it – the opportunities that would flow on from possessing a Claybourne school tie would serve Harry throughout his life. It was the sort of school that surgeons, barristers and CEOs chose for their children. Surely Harry would make the right sort of friends there?

  She inwardly winced at the thought. She’d spent years denying to herself that she’d sunk to this level, to judging the merit of people according to their social cachet. It was the sort of statement that her mother wouldn’t think twice about uttering within the sanctuary of her own home, but even Mary (despite her unashamed desire for her daughter’s ‘betterment’) knew that one must never admit to such a sentiment in public. It was a stupid charade, but everyone Libby knew – including herself – participated in it. Everyone talked about the great academic and sporting programs at St Pat’s, the marvellous HSC results and excellent pastoral care. Some even went so far as to talk up the school’s performing arts credentials, which was pushing it. What the school was really being judged on was the number of prestige cars in the line at school pick-up. A school with a respectable number of BMWs or Audis in the pick-up line was a school where parents knew they were among their own kind – or the kind they aspired to be.

  At St Pat’s the car line-up was mixed. Lots of Volvos and Jeep Grand Cherokees mixed in with the Beemers and Audis. Only the odd Merc, and most of those weren’t the newest models. Except for Melissa and Dan’s, of course. They had the best of everything. Libby’s Passat only just made the grade, but she trotted out the ‘environmentally friendly’ line fairly often, so she figured most people would think she and Cameron were socially conscious rather than strapped for cash. Which of course was true. They were socially conscious. Why have one of those great big fuel chugging four-wheel-drives for just the three of them? The planet needed all the help it could get.

 

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