The Art of Friendship

by Lisa Ireland

  Mary gave a short nod before turning her attention back to Libby. ‘Where shall I put this?’

  Libby nodded towards the kitchen. ‘Come into the kitchen, Mum, and I’ll show you the oven. It has a special warming drawer. Do you think the turkey will be okay in that? I’ve just turned the main oven on to roast the vegetables.’

  Mary glanced at her watch. ‘What time are you expecting to eat?’

  Libby’s chest tightened as she shrugged. ‘I don’t know. When the vegetables are done, I guess.’

  Libby was saved from any further discussion on her inefficiency by Cam coming in from outside.

  ‘Mary! How good to see you. Welcome to our home.’ He was trying his best but, sadly, the same couldn’t be said for her mother.

  ‘Oh, Cameron, hello.’ Her smile was tight. ‘I was wondering where you’d got to.’

  Cam didn’t take the bait. ‘Just making sure the pool is all spick and span. I hope you’ve brought your bathers?’

  Mary’s lips pursed as she shook her head. ‘I did not, but I can’t see that there’ll be time for swimming. By the time we eat,’ she looked pointedly at Libby, ‘and then give out the presents, I imagine it’ll be time to go home.’

  Cam had tried but her mother was hard to deter. She was back where she started – talking about Libby’s inadequacies.

  Chapter 9

  Kit pushed off the side of the pool, submerging herself fully and not coming up again until she reached the other end. For the moment she was alone in the water. Libby had shooed her out of the kitchen, insisting there was no need to help with the cleaning up, and Kit had happily acquiesced. Mary had taken charge of the clean-up operation, and Kit figured Libby was probably better off dealing with that situation on her own. Cam and Harry were busy blowing up the pool toys Harry had received for Christmas, and Libby’s father, Peter, had disappeared for the moment, a skill he was very adept at.

  Coming today had been a mistake. She’d thought spending the day with Libby would be fun. She’d thought it would take her mind off the fact that it was the first time in her life she would be completely without family on Christmas Day. Even that year she’d lived in London she hadn’t missed out on Christmas with Jude. It was the first of Jude’s Awesome Adventures, as her mum later decided to call her overseas trips. Not in a million years would she have picked that her mother would travel thousands of kilometres to be with her for Christmas. At that time she had never even been on a plane, let alone ventured overseas.

  Hot tears formed at the memory and she ducked her head under the water to disperse them. The last thing she wanted was for anyone to see her crying. If anyone noticed her distress, they’d want to know what was wrong, and she was afraid that if they offered her sympathy, she might completely fall to pieces. The alcohol she’d consumed to help cope with today’s pain had only served to make her even more melancholy and she’d hoped that the swim might restore her equilibrium. But now she was alone with her thoughts and spiralling even further down the rabbit hole of gloom. She forced herself back under the water and swam to the other end of the pool. Water was supposed to be therapeutic, wasn’t it? If nothing else, being submerged made it hard to think about anything other than taking her next breath.

  After a few laps, she started to feel in control again. Kit had never been good at accepting help of any kind. It made her feel weak and needy, qualities she didn’t associate with herself. She knew this inability to allow others to comfort her was a deficiency. If she’d sought counselling the therapist would have told her to dig deeper, to search for the reason why she put up a barrier between herself and her loved ones, but Kit knew that the answer was fairly simple. She was the caregiver. That was the role she’d always had, the one she was comfortable with, and at almost forty years old she wasn’t about to give that up.

  She probably should go back inside and at least make a show of helping with the clean-up, but the water was so lovely it was hard to leave. One more underwater lap, and then she’d hop out.

  As she resurfaced she saw Harry in midair, his hands gripping his knees as he bombed his way into the pool. Water splashed over her as he landed beside her and she yelled in protest, to Harry’s great amusement.

  ‘You little rotter,’ she said. ‘You better watch yourself, boy-o. Don’t let your guard down, or you never know what might happen.’

  Harry grinned. ‘You know I always win these wars. You may as well surrender now.’

  ‘Is that right?’ She used both hands to create a wave of water that hit him in the face. Harry reciprocated and they both laughed. Kit slid away from him to swim to the other end of the pool, but Harry followed, quickly turning her leisurely swim into a race. The kid was actually pretty fast and she had to work hard to keep up. When she beat him by a fingernail he protested she’d had a head start and demanded a rematch. After five laps she stopped, exhausted. ‘All right, Harry, I surrender. You win.’

  Harry grinned. ‘I told you I would.’

  ‘Well, it’s not really an even competition, is it? Me being an old lady and all.’

  He nodded sagely. ‘Yes, I suppose you’re right. I promise I’ll go easy on you next time.’ He swam to the steps and got out. Kit was about to follow him but when she got to the steps Harry reappeared with a couple of waterproof beanbags, which he tossed into the pool. ‘Thought you might like a rest after all that work trying to beat me.’

  She took possession of the yellow beanbag, carefully arranging herself on it for maximum comfort, and then propelled herself into the middle of the pool. Harry, now sporting a pair of sunglasses, did the same.

  ‘This is the life, eh?’ she said. ‘How lucky are you, kiddo, to be living in a house like this?’

  Harry tilted his head back so he was looking at the sky. ‘Yeah, it’s pretty good, I guess.’

  ‘Are you happy about the move, then? What do you think now that you’ve been here for a couple of weeks?’

  There was a pause before he answered. ‘I guess it’s okay. The house is awesome. My room here is really big, even bigger than my room in Sydney. When I had sleepovers at the old house we couldn’t quite fit everyone into my room, so we had to sleep in the rumpus room. Here we’d all . . .’ Harry’s voice trailed off and Kit didn’t ask him to finish his thought. She knew why he’d stopped.

  ‘Maybe some of your old friends will come to visit sometime.’

  ‘Yeah, maybe.’

  ‘And you’ll make new friends once school starts.’

  ‘Uh-huh.’

  ‘I’m sure you will, Harry. It might take a little while but eventually it will happen. Your mum said lots of people from your dad’s new company live around here. Won’t some of them be going to the same school as you?’

  ‘I guess.’

  ‘Why don’t you get your mum and dad to invite some of them over? Maybe for a pool party or something. That way you’d know a few people when you start.’

  ‘I already met a couple of them.’

  ‘Well, there you go. What were they like?’

  ‘Okay, I guess.’ Harry rolled off the beanbag and into the water, sunglasses and all.

  Apparently the conversation was over.

  Cam appeared at the pool gate and waited for Harry to surface. ‘Hey, sport, Nanna and Grandpa are leaving. You need to come inside and say goodbye.’

  ‘Me too, I suppose,’ Kit said.

  Cam gave her a rare conspiratorial smile. ‘Heaven forbid Queen Mary should trouble herself to come outside and say her farewells.’ He handed her a towel and then took a step back as Harry approached them shaking his hair like an Old English sheepdog after a bath. ‘Stop it, Harry. You’re dripping all over us.’

  Harry laughed. ‘Don’t be such a wuss, Dad.’

  Cam rolled his eyes and looked at Kit. ‘Wanna kid? This one’s going cheap.’

  Kit slid her arm around Harry’s d
amp shoulders. ‘I’ll take him off your hands anytime.’

  ‘Hear that, Dad? You better be nice to me or I’ll move in with Aunty Kit.’ He wriggled free from her embrace and ran inside.

  *

  By eight o’clock Cam had passed out on the sofa, Harry had sequestered himself in his room to play a new video game, and Kit finally had Libby to herself.

  ‘Let’s take our tea into the lounge room,’ Libby said. ‘We can talk in there without disturbing Cam.’ As if on cue Cam snored loudly and Libby rolled her eyes. ‘Or more importantly, without him disturbing us. You go ahead, I’ll be there in a minute. I just want to grab something from my room first.’

  Kit laughed. ‘You mean we get to use the “good” room? I almost feel like a real grown-up.’ She picked up her mug of tea and a plate of chocolate-dipped shortbread that sat on the counter and headed off to the formal room at the front of the house. She eyed the Chesterfield sofa and two equally stiff-looking wing-backed chairs and decided she’d be more comfortable – and the furniture would be in less danger – if she sat on the floor. A neat stack of cork-backed coasters sat on one end of the highly polished mahogany coffee table. Kit placed her tea on one and put the shortbreads down beside it. There was a book on the table too, something about tidying, which was kind of funny considering this house was so clutter-free it was practically sterile. She picked it up and studied the contents. Chapter one of The Life-changing Magic of Tidying Up was titled ‘Why Can’t I Keep My House in Order? Good question. Maybe she should borrow this book. It wasn’t like Libby needed it.

  She sat gingerly on the edge of one of the armchairs for a moment to read more but was defeated by the chair’s slippery upholstery. She placed the book back where she’d found it before schlepping back to the main living area to steal the oversized floor cushions she’d spied earlier in the day. When she returned to the room, Libby was perched on the arm of the couch, holding a rectangular box wrapped in gold paper. She looked at the cushions in Kit’s hands and her face lit up. ‘Ooh, good idea! I hate the furniture in this room. So damn uncomfortable.’

  ‘So you really didn’t get any say, huh?’

  Libby shook her head as she set the present down on the couch and dragged a cushion over, placing it on the floor next to the coffee table. ‘Nope, none. At least this room doesn’t matter so much. I can’t imagine I’ll be using it much, except,’ she pulled a face, ‘for when it’s my turn to host book club.’

  Kit nodded towards the book. ‘Let me guess, that’s a book club title, right? I can’t imagine any other reason you’d need to read it. You’re the tidiest person I know.’

  Libby shook her head. ‘No, Georgina recommended it, so I thought I’d grab a copy.’ She looked slightly embarrassed.

  ‘So you caved and joined the Stepford Wives’ book club?’ Kit settled herself on her own cushion as she waited for Libby to swallow her tea and answer.

  Libby laughed. ‘Funny you should call them that. It’s exactly the term I thought of when I met them all. Cam says I need to stop being so judgemental.’

  ‘Well, he would say that, wouldn’t he? He needs you to keep them onside for the sake of his career. But, Lib, come on, how are you going to stand it? If that Georgina is anything to go by, they don’t really seem like your cup of tea.’

  ‘I know. Look, they’re all nice enough. Well, most of them. There’s this one called Felicity, she seems a bit stuck-up. I kind of got the vibe from her that I don’t quite meet her standards.’

  ‘Oh daarling, really?’ Kit attempted to make herself sound posh and failed so miserably Libby almost choked on her tea as she started to laugh.

  ‘Look, they’re not all that bad. Georgina’s been so helpful. I know she comes across as overbearing, but she really has done an awful lot of work to make our transition as smooth as possible. And Alli seems quite nice actually. I think I might have a bit more in common with her than I do with the others.’

  Kit picked up one of the shortbreads, which she definitely did not need, but it was Christmas Day and if ever there was a time to eat to excess, this was it. ‘Seems like they are all very involved in each other’s lives. You might be right about needing to get a job to avoid them.’

  Libby exhaled audibly. ‘Yeah, trouble is, I’m not really qualified to do anything interesting.’

  ‘I thought you loved your teaching job at the community centre.’

  ‘Oh, don’t get me wrong, I did. But it’s hardly a high-powered career, is it? Even if I do decide to take up similar work down here, it’s not likely to take up too much of my time.’ Libby’s voice was wistful.

  ‘You’re underestimating your abilities. You have lots of skills that would be an asset to any workplace. It’s really just a matter of deciding what you want to do. I still think you’d make an amazing lawyer. Think of all the good you could do. I know we already discussed this but I’m just putting it out there: it’s not too late to apply for the coming semester, you know.’

  Libby screwed up her nose. ‘I don’t want to put too much pressure on myself for these first few months. I’m not sure what the company expectations are in terms of Cam entertaining colleagues and clients, and with Harry starting a new school too, I don’t think it’s an ideal time for me to be studying. If I go back I want to give it my all.’

  ‘You’ll breeze through any course you choose. You always did.’

  ‘I’m not nineteen anymore. It’s been almost twenty years since I did any real study. I’m worried I won’t be able to keep up.’

  ‘Pfft, as if. This time round you won’t be sitting exams after smoking bongs all night, or participating in the world’s longest pub crawl.’

  Libby giggled. ‘Shh! I don’t want Harry hearing about any of that.’

  ‘Honestly, Lib, I don’t know what you’re worried about. We barely worked when we were at uni but you always managed to pass. It won’t take you long to get back into the swing of it, and even if it is hard at first, it’ll do you good to challenge yourself a little.’

  Libby looked sheepish. ‘I guess I really should come clean here. I didn’t want to admit it at the time, but part of the attraction of moving to Sydney when Cam graduated was having a valid excuse to stop studying law. I hated it. It wasn’t what I imagined at all.’

  Kit shook her head. ‘No. Surely not? You were good at it and you were always engaged in all those heartfelt debates about human rights in the pub in first year. I remember. You were passionate.’

  Libby laughed. ‘About human rights, yes, about doing the hard yards it requires to get a law degree, not so much.’ She paused before adding, ‘And even if I did choose to finish my degree now, it’s not like I’d be going on to some lofty position in The Hague.’

  ‘Well, no, but there’s other meaningful work you could do as a lawyer – legal aid, for instance. I know you always aimed higher than being an everyday solicitor, but the lawyers who help out some of our clients at the centre really do make a huge difference to the women’s lives.’

  ‘Oh, I’m sure they do. I didn’t mean to imply the only jobs in the field with any value were at the United Nations or whatever. Even corporate lawyers like Cam have a worthwhile role to play in society.’

  Kit wasn’t touching that one with a barge pole. ‘But you’ll go back to study something, surely?’

  Libby shrugged. ‘I do regret not having any qualifications, but I’m not really sure that I want to go back. I know you think I was ambitious at university, but really Kit, a lot of that was just talk. I was too embarrassed to admit to what I really wanted out of life.’

  Kit creased her brow in confusion. ‘Which was?’

  ‘All I ever really wanted was to be a wife and mother. I wanted to be part of – well, to create, I suppose – a loving family.’

  Kit focused on not looking shocked at this revelation. ‘But you never said that. We spent so much time tal
king about our futures and I don’t ever remember you saying such a thing.’

  ‘How could I? You were so adamant about women not being shackled to a life of . . . what did you used to call it?’

  Kit grinned. ‘Domestic slavery.’

  ‘Exactly. How could I ever have told you that “domestic slavery” was actually my dream job? You would have howled me down.’

  ‘I don’t understand, Lib. You really wanted nothing else for yourself?’

  Libby shook her head. ‘Having a happy family was something I’d yearned for my whole life.’

  ‘I’m so sorry for making you feel you couldn’t be honest with me.’

  ‘Oh goodness, it wasn’t just you. It was the whole world back then.’

  The ebullience Kit had felt just minutes before evaporated. How could she not have known this before? What sort of friend was she if Libby felt she couldn’t be her true self in front of her? All this time she’d assumed that Cam had stifled Libby’s ambition. Now it seemed she’d falsely accused the poor guy, even if it was only in her own head. ‘But all these years you’ve never said anything. Why?’

  Libby bit her lip and paused a moment before answering. ‘I don’t know. I didn’t want you to think less of me, I guess. It’s bad enough having Mum on my case, telling me what a mess I’ve made of my life. I thought it was better to let you think it was circumstances holding me back, rather than a lack of ambition. And if I’m really being honest, I suppose in some ways I was actually lying to myself. Trying to convince myself that I wanted a big career, because I thought that’s what I was supposed to want.’

  ‘And now? Now that you are married and have a teenager? Are you happy? Is it the life you dreamed of?’

  ‘Of course.’ Libby averted her gaze and took a sip of her drink, before redirecting the conversation. ‘Speaking of our past,’ she said, ‘I have a little extra Christmas present for you. I wanted to give it to you when we were alone, because . . . well, you’ll see.’ She reached up and retrieved the present she’d left on the couch and passed it to Kit. ‘Happy Christmas. I hope you like it.’