The Art of Friendship

by Lisa Ireland

  Libby’s face burned with anger and humiliation. ‘This is utterly ridiculous. My child does not have behavioural issues. There’s no need to give me time to consider our options. You’re right about one thing. Claybourne doesn’t appear to be the right school for Harry. We obviously made a huge mistake entrusting our son’s education to you. Harry will be leaving the school. Today will be his last day.’

  John Quinlan’s face was impassive. Clearly her decision mattered little to him. ‘Fine. I’ll have Jane email the forms for you to fill out and return. We will of course require both parents’ signatures before the paperwork can be finalised and the release forms forwarded on to Harry’s new school. I would ask that you let Harry finish the day if that is acceptable to you. It will be less disruptive to his classes that way, and probably easier on him too. I can, however, let him know of your decision so he has the opportunity to say goodbye to his friends.’

  She nodded her agreement without speaking and then marched towards the door. She was desperate to get away from this hideous man before the angry tears forming in her eyes gave away just how distressed she was.

  Libby sat in the school car park with her head resting on the steering wheel. What the hell had she just done? This was a disaster. Cam would go nuts when he found out. But, she rationalised, she’d done it in part to protect him. What would Felicity and Georgina think if they found out Harry was seeing the school psychologist? That surely wouldn’t look good. At least this way they could control the story somewhat. They would have to work out a way to make it look as if they’d chosen to send Harry elsewhere. Oh God, where else would they be able to get him in? It needed to be somewhere at least equal to Claybourne in reputation. They could hardly send him off to the local secondary college and pretend that the move was by choice.

  And then there was Harry to deal with. What if he arced up about changing schools yet again? But it couldn’t be helped. There was no way she was backing down. She couldn’t have her child attending a school where he was so badly misunderstood.

  Or was he?

  Suddenly she was overwhelmed with nausea. She jumped out of the car and just made it to one of the school’s perfectly manicured garden beds before losing the contents of her stomach. When she was done retching she did a quick scan of the area to make sure no one had seen – fortunately it seemed the grounds were devoid of life at this time of day – and then made her way back to the car. She sank into the cool leather driver’s seat and retrieved her handbag from the passenger seat where she’d left it. She dug around in the bag for a handkerchief and wiped her mouth. How had it come to this?

  She was one of those parents.

  When she’d found out she was pregnant she’d called Kit immediately. After Kit had stopped squealing, Libby had confided something that had been worrying her ever since she’d chucked her birth control pills in the bin a few months before. ‘What if I’m a dud at this, Kit?’

  ‘As if. You’ll be an amazing mother. You do need to promise me one thing, though.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘Promise you won’t turn into one of those mothers.’

  ‘What are you talking about?’

  ‘You know, the helicopter mums or whatever they’re called. I have mothers of the year twelve students calling me about their assignments. These kids are seventeen and eighteen, for fuck’s sake, and their mummies are still fighting their battles for them.’

  ‘Oh good God, really?’

  ‘Really. Honestly, I fear for some of these kids. I’m not sure how they’ll ever make a go of their lives once they leave school. They’ve never had to take any responsibility for themselves. Their parents have made their lives far too easy. The parents – usually the mothers, it pains me to say – call me and make pathetic excuses for why their kid needs an extension, or deserves a better mark, and when I tell them that to get better marks all their kid needs to do is put in some more work, they get all huffy. No one can tell them that their precious little darling isn’t perfect.’

  At the time Libby had laughed. ‘Imagine one of our parents arguing with a teacher about our marks. When we didn’t do well we were the ones who got in trouble, not the teachers.’

  ‘Let’s face it,’ Kit said, ‘they had no idea what we even did at school, and sometimes I think that’s not such a terrible thing.’

  ‘Well, you don’t have to worry. I can’t see myself being that sort of parent. But I can see myself being the type that might drop the kid on their head.’

  How wrong she had been. Before Harry was born it had been impossible for her to imagine the overwhelming love she would have for her child. She wondered if her mother felt the same way about her, but when she’d tried to broach the subject with her, Mary had lived up to her ‘contrary’ moniker. ‘Of course I loved you when you were born, Libby. What sort of question is that?’

  When she’d tearfully recounted this exchange to Cam as she breastfed her precious boy, he’d wiped her tears and reminded her that her mum had suffered an unimaginable loss when she was a young mother. ‘I never really understood how terrible the loss of your brother must have been for your parents, Lib. I mean, of course I thought it was an awful thing to have happened, but . . .’ he ran a finger lovingly along Harry’s little cheek, ‘can you imagine . . .’ He shuddered and left the sentence unfinished.

  This brought on a fresh bout of tears from Libby. Her brother was a mere concept to her, not a flesh and blood person. He’d died several years before she was born, so her connection to him was tenuous at best. But finally, now that she was holding her infant son in her arms, the magnitude of her parents’ loss was clear to her. The anger and hurt she’d felt just moments ago gave way to grief. How had her mother borne that loss? How had she kept going day after day? Libby didn’t know if she would be able to function as a human being if something happened to Harry, let alone allow herself to risk loving another child. Suddenly some of her mother’s behaviour towards her became more understandable. No wonder she’d been so strict. Libby had interpreted her mother’s stern parenting style as indifference, when in fact it had been fear.

  She’d resolved two things in that moment: to be kinder to her mother in future, and to never, for one moment, let her son doubt her love for him.

  But now she’d raised a boy who was a stranger to her, a boy who could cause physical harm to another human being and, if the principal was right, not take any responsibility for that action. She’d spent so much time ensuring Harry knew how loved and special he was, but had she made sure that he knew other children were special too? The aggression towards the boy tormenting him was one thing – yes, it was terrible but clearly he’d been provoked – but the thought of Harry taking advantage of a girl brought on a fresh bout of nausea. Had she managed to raise a boy who thought girls owed him something? That their time and attention were somehow his birthright? Was that the model she and Cam were providing for their son?

  Perhaps the principal was right. Perhaps getting counselling for Harry wasn’t such a bad idea. The Arcadia wives didn’t have to know. She could ask Kit if she knew anyone in the field who was good, although the thought of asking Kit for anything right now wasn’t appealing.

  Libby desperately wanted to talk to someone about this, someone who would understand her point of view. Of course she should ring Cam first to explain this new development, but she knew he would not be happy. She needed to think carefully about the best way to break the news to him. Besides, he’d be busy with workshops or lectures or whatever the conference program was today. But she needed someone who she could hash this out with, someone who understood and who wouldn’t judge.

  She drummed her fingers on the faux woodgrain steering wheel as she tried to think of someone to confide in. What about Nicole? When she’d lived in Sydney Nicole had often been her sounding board when she wanted to nut out a parenting problem. But now that they were no longer in daily contact L
ibby wasn’t so sure it was a good idea. Would Nicole still be inclined to keep her secrets, or would she run off and tell the others? She couldn’t bear the thought of those women being ‘concerned’ about Harry. If only there was someone – other than Kit – who she could trust to share this problem with.

  Alli.

  After their long talk the other day, she really felt that she and Alli were beginning to bond. What better way to cement the friendship than with a shared confidence?

  Libby retrieved her handbag from the passenger seat and pulled out her phone. She quickly found Alli’s number in her contacts list and pressed it.

  ‘Hi, Libby, home safe and sound, I take it?’

  ‘Yes, thanks, Alli. Do you have a moment to talk? I have a bit of a problem that I’d like to discuss. This is a bit embarrassing, but you’re the only person I could think of in my life who might understand.’

  ‘Of course, darling, I’d be happy to listen. Just give me a moment.’

  After a few moments Alli came back on the line. ‘Sorry, I was poolside. I was just moving to a more private location. I’m sitting on a lounge outside the day spa so I can easily see if anyone else comes along. I take it this is something to do with the fight Harry got into at school?’

  ‘So Felicity told you then?’

  ‘Of course she did. I mean, you can’t just race back to Australia in the middle of the night and not expect tongues to wag. Cam said you’d had to go home to deal with a childcare issue, but Felicity wasted no time in telling everyone what had happened. But don’t worry, she really didn’t have many details. And I can assure you she won’t be getting any from me.’

  ‘Thank you so much. I’d really appreciate your complete discretion on this one. I haven’t even told Cam what’s happened yet.’

  ‘Absolutely. You have my word.’

  ‘Thanks, Alli.’

  ‘So, what’s going on?’

  ‘I had an argument with the principal and I’ve pulled Harry out of Claybourne.’

  ‘Wow. That is big news. Tell me what happened.’

  Libby went through the whole incident, from Felicity blindsiding her with the news in the bathroom, right through to this morning’s verbal stoush with John Quinlan. ‘And now I don’t know what to do. I have no idea where Harry’s going to go to school and I think Cam will be furious when he finds out.’

  ‘Darling, don’t worry. It will all be fine. Would you like me to call Braeton Grammar on your behalf? Greg’s a board member there and I’m on the parents’ committee. I know the principal well and I’m sure we could fast-track Harry’s enrolment for you.’

  ‘Braeton? I hadn’t considered Braeton at all. I mean, I’m not sure I’m ready for Harry to board.’

  ‘Well, he wouldn’t necessarily have to. They have day students too. However, I do think you should consider the boarding option. It’s been the making of our girls. They’re so independent now. And the pastoral care at the school is second to none. They treat every child as an individual and there’s a huge focus on mental health as well as the academic side. I think Harry would thrive there.’

  ‘Yes, well, that does sound good. At least the day student part does – I’m still not convinced I want Harry to leave home just yet. But I don’t know that we can afford Braeton.’

  ‘Nonsense. The company will subsidise it. The allowance doesn’t completely cover costs if you choose to board, but the difference isn’t huge. Think about it this way: Braeton is ranked the top school in Victoria. Its academic results are the best in the state. Isn’t that worth paying a little extra for?’

  ‘Of course. But I’m not sure Cam will like the idea.’

  ‘Look, Greg and I can help with all that. Once you’ve told him I’ll get Greg on board to sell the idea to him. Libby, this might actually turn out to be fun. You can join the parents’ committee and we can travel down to meetings together. Honestly, don’t worry about Cam. In a few months’ time he’ll be congratulating you on the excellent decision you made.’

  ‘More likely he’ll be claiming it was all his own idea.’

  Alli laughed. ‘Even better.’

  Chapter 17

  Kit was woken by something wet nudging her hand. She was startled for a moment when she didn’t immediately recognise her surroundings, but then she felt a body stirring beside her and remembered she’d stayed over at John’s place. It wasn’t the first time they’d had sex (it was the third in as many days, in fact), but this was the first time she’d slept over. She pulled her hand away from the source of the wetness – John’s staffy, Buffy, who’d pressed her nose against Kit’s hand – and sat up. ‘Do you want to go outside, girl?’

  John rolled over and opened his eyes. ‘Oh, did she wake you? Sorry. Go on, Buff, get outta here.’ The dog ignored him and wagged her tail.

  ‘I think she needs to go outside.’

  ‘Nah, she has a doggy door. She can go out anytime she likes. I think she just wants your attention, but she’s got a fight on her hands there.’

  ‘Oh yeah? Why’s that?’

  ‘Because,’ he said, sliding his hand under the doona, ‘I want you all to myself.’

  She laughed and then sucked in a breath as his hand settled between her thighs. She wriggled away. ‘Not in front of . . .’

  ‘The dog?’ He laughed. ‘Righto.’ He tossed off the covers, swung his legs out of bed and bent to pick up a pair of briefs from the floor. ‘Don’t go anywhere,’ he said, pulling on the briefs. ‘I’ll be right back.’

  She watched him walk out of the room, admiring the sight of his broad shoulders and tight buttocks. Her assessment of him in the coffee shop had been right. He was entirely fuckable. It’d been a long time since she’d had such great sex. Dinner a few nights ago had ended with a very satisfying romp between the sheets at her place, after which John had mentioned something about a breakfast meeting early the next morning before making his departure. She’d figured that was the end of it, but a text at morning tea time proved her wrong. He was suggesting seeing a movie they’d talked about the night before. Clearly the sex had been good for him too. She couldn’t see any reason not to go. She did want to see the movie – she’d suggested it to Libby before the Malaysia trip, but Libby had screwed up her nose, proclaiming it not her ‘cup of tea’. And now she didn’t even know whether she and Libby were on speaking terms. So she’d agreed and, as expected, they’d ended up back at her place.

  Against her better judgement they’d made plans to meet again the following day. This time John had offered to cook her dinner at his place, and somehow he’d convinced her to stay over. It was surprisingly nice waking up next to someone, although Kit knew better than to get used to the idea. She learned long ago that she wasn’t cut out for relationships. Too messy, too painful and too exhausting. Casual was better. That way nobody got hurt. She hoped John would see it that way too. She’d make a point of spelling out her expectations to him before this thing went any further.

  John grinned as he came back into the room and slid under the covers again. The talking could wait.

  *

  ‘Breakfast as well as dinner,’ Kit said as she loaded up her fork with fluffy scrambled eggs. ‘I’m beginning to feel rather spoilt.’

  John smiled. ‘I like cooking. It helps me wind down if I’ve had a stressful week. It’s nice to have someone to cook for once in a while.’

  ‘Have you had a stressful week? We haven’t really talked much about your job these past few days.’

  ‘No more than usual. I don’t want to bore you by talking about work.’

  ‘I don’t mind. This might be a little weird but I find your job kind of sexy. I don’t think I would have minded spending time in the principal’s office when I was a kid if the principal looked like you.’

  He grinned. ‘Keep talking like that and I might have to discipline you.’

 
She laughed. ‘All jokes aside, though, if you want to talk about work, that’s fine. It can be hard when you live alone. Some days I wish I had someone to unload to at home. I used to call Libby – Harry’s mum – quite often to do that when they lived in Sydney. It’s funny, you know – now that she lives here I don’t do that as much. I thought once she moved to Melbourne we’d be closer than ever, but it doesn’t seem to be working out that way.’

  He sighed. ‘Look, Kit, this is kind of awkward, but part of the reason I’ve avoided talking about work with you is because of Libby. Did she tell you about what happened when she came to see me?’

  Kit shook her head. ‘I haven’t spoken to her since the day she got back. She was pretty pissed off at me. I think she blames me – at least partially – for what happened with Harry at school.’

  ‘You’re right about her being angry. We had a discussion and at the end of it she decided to withdraw Harry from the school.’

  She put down her fork and stared at him. ‘What? Fuck . . . Did she say why?’

  ‘I don’t know that we should be talking about the details. Ethically, I mean. But I will say that we had a difference of opinion on the best way forward for Harry and on the basis of that disagreement Libby decided to remove him from the school.’

  Kit shook her head in disbelief. She knew Libby was an overprotective parent but she wasn’t prone to being unreasonable – well, not as far as Kit knew. ‘She’ll calm down and see sense, I’m sure. And I can’t imagine Cameron approving of this.’

  He shrugged. ‘The paperwork for the transfer has been filed and it was signed by both parents, so I think it’s pretty much a done deal.’

  Kit shook her head again. She found herself speechless at this news.

  John picked up his coffee and gave her a thoughtful look. ‘You know, I never would have picked you two as friends.’