‘Hmm.’
‘How are the boys coping with it all, do you think?’
‘Oh, they’re fine. They’re probably in denial, too, and all the new experiences of school are keeping them distracted enough. You know, kids are a lot more resilient than we give them credit for. Or maybe that’s just me telling myself what I want to hear – trying not to think about what long-term damage is being done. Though, that’s just par for the course of being a parent. I’m sure we all screw them up one way or another, despite our best efforts.’
‘I think you’re being way too hard on yourself. You’re a great mum and the boys are fabulous – because of you.’
‘Thanks. If only I could get stuck into a project. You know me, I’m much better at life when I’m making things. I’m trying not to freak out about the exhibition. I don’t know what to do for it. Roger’s going to want to know soon, isn’t he?’
‘Yes. And he’ll need something to photograph so he can get the marketing ball rolling early, and get cracking on designing the invitations and sending them out.’
‘Fuck,’ Sam said, running a hand through her hair.
‘Sam, it’s only been a few weeks since you made all those pieces for the markets. You worked like a machine for that. You’re just a bit burnt out. You’ll be fine again in no time.’
‘But I don’t know what to do.’
‘You never do until you actually start.’
‘This is different. Roger needs to know.’
‘He especially liked your ceramic ladies and the linocuts.’
‘I can’t do the same thing.’
‘Why not? Don’t most artists have a signature style? You could do a series of little old men with hats, cravats … Sorry, I’m not helping. I know it’s not that easy – the urge and passion has to be there. I guess what I’m trying to say is can you capitalise on what you’ve already done rather than stressing over trying to come up with new ideas?’
‘Hmm. Oh, I don’t know. I just don’t want to let you down – now you’re my agent.’
‘Oh, Sammy. You could never let me down. And I’m your agent for you, not me.’ Hannah draped her arm around Sam. ‘You’re always saying your best ideas come when you’re not looking for them. I think you need to try to stop worrying about deadlines. Get back to basics. Take a soak in the tub, a long walk in the park, sit and doodle. The ideas will come. They always do. Your brain is just too busy.’
‘Hmm.’
They lapsed into silence as they enjoyed their wine. Hannah thought about how Sam had so often said creativity couldn’t be forced, that it didn’t work under pressure or to deadlines. So how the hell had she got her assessment pieces done during her university degree? She was starting to feel a little frustrated. She wanted to point all this out to Sam, but it wouldn’t help, would it? Sam would have to figure it out in her own time – alone. Except, now Hannah was her agent and dealing with the gallery she was feeling a certain amount of pressure herself. She was relieved Sam could see that as well. Yes, my reputation is at stake too, she found herself thinking. But, really, what reputation? When it came to being an artist’s agent, she had no reputation. She’d simply made a phone call, put together a portfolio – a pretty damned fine one, if she said so herself – had a meeting, secured an exhibition spot that was practically going begging, and had some swanky business cards done. Business cards that didn’t even have a title on them. For the umpteenth time recently, Hannah found herself thinking, No, this is not about you. God, if you think it’s frustrating for you, think how it must be for Sam! But the truth was Hannah didn’t like anything half-done. If it was worth doing, it was worth doing well. That was why Craig had so much faith in her.
Oh well, it’s out of my hands. If Sam lets me down, then so be it. She just hoped Sam didn’t let herself down. The state her friend was in, it might be her undoing. Is it time for some tough love? Oh, god, I don’t know, Hannah thought.
‘Right. Enough about me. What’s going on with you? Distract me from my misery. With anything.’
‘Well, I do have some news, actually. I’ve quit my job.’
‘You’ve done what? Good for you. Why? Um, it is good news, isn’t it?’
‘Yes. Craig is going out on his own to become a consultant. He’s asked me to work for him – run his office, do the marketing …’
‘Oh, you’ll be fantastic. Well done. When do you start?’
‘Two weeks. I handed in my notice today. I’m going to miss everyone at work, though.’
‘Well you already see plenty of Caitlin, and Chloe occasionally.’
‘I think it’ll be the masses – the noisy kitchen at lunch time and morning and afternoon tea; the chitchat – that I’ll miss.’
‘You sound like you’re regretting your decision already.’
‘No, not really, just being realistic – preparing myself, I guess. It’s only going to be a few days a week, too, so I can be around more for you, if you want. You know, moral support from your doting agent.’
‘Will you be okay with just a few days work – I mean, financially?’
‘I’ll be fine. And if I do well and Craig gets busy enough it might become full-time. But I am looking forward to being here with the kitties.’
‘Speaking of which, it’s awfully silent in the lounge room – never a good thing with those two. I’d better check.’
‘Aww,’ Hannah whispered as she and Sam stood in the doorway and saw the boys lying together on the floor with a kitten curled up against each of them and Holly stretched out close by.
‘Oh, bless,’ Sam said. ‘School really does tire them out. Shh. Don’t move. I need a photo for Rob,’ she said, tiptoeing back into the hall where she retrieved her phone from her handbag.
Just as the boys looked up and noticed them the oven timer dinged.
‘Is dinner ready, Auntie Hann?’ Oliver asked.
‘It sure is. Have you worked up an appetite?’
‘Yes.’
‘Me too,’ Ethan said.
‘Did you enjoy playing with Holly and the kittens?’
‘Yes. Thank you.’
‘You’d better thank them.’
‘Thank you, Holly,’ Oliver said, bending down and kissing the cat. ‘Thank you, kitten,’ he said, picking Lucky up, kissing him and then putting him down gently and doing the same with Squeak. Ethan copied his brother.
‘Lucky is the darker one and Squeak has the white paws,’ Hannah said.
‘Bye bye, Holly, Lucky and Squeak,’ Oliver said as they got up.
‘I like that you have cats,’ Ethan said.
‘Me too,’ Hannah said. ‘How are Inky and Oofy?’
‘They’re good. A bit naughty,’ Oliver said.
‘Yes, we need to distant them more, Mum says.’
‘Discipline them more,’ Sam corrected.
‘I bet they miss you while you’re at school.’
‘Probably, but it’s really just like when we were at kindy, only more days, Auntie Hann,’ said the ever-knowledgeable Oliver.
‘They do miss us,’ Ethan said. ‘They jump all over us when we get home.’
‘And run around the house like mad things,’ Oliver added.
‘Hence the need for more discipline,’ Sam said.
‘Come on, dinner time,’ Hannah said.
‘Thank you so much for this,’ Sam said as the tucked into their meals. ‘I so badly needed a break.’
‘Good. I’m glad.’
Chapter Sixteen
Hannah told the vet’s receptionist her name and that she was there to collect Holly and Lucky and Squeak. Without the three cats in the house she’d spent all day feeling a little out of sorts, as if something major was missing from her life. And it had been. Again she’d wondered how she could have thought her life truly complete without a pet.
She’d planned to collect the cats after their ‘snips’ and vaccinations hours ago, but the receptionist had called, asking her to come later, just before closing t
ime, because several emergency cases had taken priority over routine procedures.
‘Hannah, hi.’
Hannah looked up at hearing the familiar voice and smiled back at the vet standing in front of her. Not so much cute as tall, dark and handsome, she thought, at the same time as her stomach flipped. She wondered if she now regretted turning down his invitation for a date. It was a little under two months ago. She certainly hadn’t felt ready. So much had changed since then. Had that feeling changed too?
‘Hi, Pete. Where’s Charlie?’ Hannah could have kicked herself. Of all the things to say, you asked after his dog!
‘Do you mind if I sit down? It’s been a long, difficult day. I just needed to escape the chaos for a sec.’
‘No, not at all. Please,’ she said, indicating the plastic chair beside her. ‘Is everything okay?’
‘I hope so. Charlie’s out the back, keeping an eye on a couple of critical cases. Touch and go. At least if we lose them they had canine company,’ Pete said sadly.
Hannah was struck by how despondent he seemed. While she didn’t like seeing him distressed, or anyone for that matter, she did like seeing how much he cared. No doubt he’d been in this position many times, but still he showed so much emotion.
‘He’s a lovely dog.’
‘Yes, he is. I’m sorry, Hannah, I’m a bit ragged. Not very good company. No matter how many times you go through it, it never gets any easier. Your Holly and kittens are just coming around and will be ready to go home soon. Everything went fine. They’re really lovely cats.’
‘They are. I’ve been a pathetic basket case without them today,’ she said with a warm smile, trying to cheer Pete up a little.
‘Well, I’d better get back out there,’ he said.
As he stood up, Hannah found herself also rising. She got a flash of memory – the hug she’d shared with Brad just outside the lift on the fourth floor of The Windsor Hotel all those months ago.
‘Um, Pete?’ she said.
‘Yes?’
‘Would a hug help?’ she said, opening her arms out wide.
Without a word, Pete wrapped his large arms around Hannah and held on tight. She could feel his breath in her hair at her neck. He held her so tightly she could also feel his heart beating against her – fast, but as the moments passed it slowed.
‘Thank you,’ he said, slowly releasing with a sigh. ‘I needed that.’
I thought you might. ‘You’re welcome,’ she said, reaching up and putting a hand gently to his face. As she did she thought how good it felt to give to someone else what Brad had done for her that night. By the look on Pete’s face it really had helped.
Hannah watched, almost mesmerised as he took hold of her left hand, raised it to his lips and planted the lightest of kisses on it before letting it go.
‘I’ll see you ’round,’ he said, and turned away.
‘Pete?’ Hannah found herself calling.
He turned. ‘Yes?’
‘Would you like me to cook you dinner? Um, tonight? Now?’
He looked at her. ‘I would. Very much. Um …’
‘Of course, if you’ve met someone else or … I’m being too forward. Sorry.’
‘I haven’t. And you’re not.’
‘It’s just you look like you could do with someone taking care of you tonight. And I could do with a vet on hand since I’m a complete novice at being a cat mum and all,’ she said, grinning and trying to defuse what had the potential to become an awkward situation.
‘You seem to be doing a pretty good job from what I’ve seen,’ he said as he glanced down at what he was wearing.
‘Please, just come as you are.’ He looked presentable enough to Hannah. ‘Do you like spaghetti bolognaise?’
‘It’s actually one of my favourite comfort foods.’
‘Brilliant.’
‘Are you sure?’
‘I am. Just a quiet evening in. Charlie is welcome too, if he likes.’
‘No, Charlie will insist on staying here tonight with his patients. But I will take you up on your very generous offer.’ Hannah tried to hide her relief – as soon as she’d offered Charlie’s invitation she’d regretted it. It wouldn’t be fair on Holly and Lucky and Squeak to have a German shepherd in their house during their recovery, no matter how well behaved he was.
They looked over when a nurse carried the cat box out. ‘All ready to go,’ the young woman said.
‘I can leave now, so I’ll follow you,’ Pete said. ‘I’ll just get my keys and do a quick final check on the patients and say goodbye to Charlie.’
‘Okay,’ Hannah said, taking her wallet out as she moved towards the desk. ‘Take your time.’ She watched after him, her heart flipping between a yearning to take care of him and huge, swelling respect for his kind, generous soul.
She handed over her credit card before squatting down and looking into the cat box. Three pairs of eyes opened briefly, and then closed again. ‘Hello, darlings,’ Hannah said. ‘Are you okay?’
‘They’re still a bit sleepy,’ the nurse said. ‘And they’ll be unsteady on their feet for a few hours, so put them somewhere where it’s quiet and comfortable.’
‘Okay. Thanks.’
As she drove home, Hannah was surprised she didn’t feel at all nervous about her first date with Pete. It was as if they were old friends, which they weren’t. They didn’t know each other very well. Granted, it wasn’t exactly a conventional first date – no days of anticipation, wondering what to wear, et cetera, et cetera …
‘Thank you for this, Hannah, I feel much better already,’ Pete said when he was ensconced at Hannah’s kitchen bench with a glass of wine in hand.
‘I’m glad. Cheers,’ she said, raising her glass.
‘Cheers,’ he said. ‘Um, is this our first date?’ he asked hesitatingly.
‘I think it might be,’ Hannah said shyly.
‘Well, to our first date,’ Pete said, ‘may it be the first of many.’ They clinked glasses and then Pete leaned over and pecked Hannah lightly on the lips.
As she put the spaghetti into the boiling water, Hannah thought how lovely this was. Nice and easy and relaxed.
‘Please tell me if there’s anything I can do,’ Pete said.
‘Thanks, but it’s all organised. I just need to cook the pasta and make a quick salad. I made the sauce this afternoon.’
‘I have to say, Hannah, I’m very impressed at how at ease you are with me watching you cook. I often feel nervous if someone watches me – though I’m probably not as competent a cook as you seem to be.’
‘Oh, I could practically do this with my eyes closed – well, not exactly with the knives, but you know what I mean. I made my first spaghetti bolognaise when I was twelve. I love to cook – it relaxes me.’
‘I love to eat, so we’re a match made in heaven!’
‘It’s great to have someone to cook for. I miss that.’
‘Yes, I know what you mean. The company, companionship. It’s been eighteen months since Rachel died, but the cancer took her vibrancy – and her appetite – a year or so before that. You know, I used to suffer terrible guilt enjoying a meal in front of her, too, when most of the time, especially near the end, she could barely force down half a cracker. It took me ages to allow myself to properly relish food again. Though, of course, the grief doesn’t help with that, does it?’
‘No.’
‘Sorry, I didn’t mean to get morose.’
‘It’s okay. I completely understand if you need to talk about it. About Rachel.’
‘Thanks, but I’m fine. It must be just the tiredness getting to me.’
‘Here we go,’ Hannah said, putting steaming bowls on the bench. ‘We can sit here or in the dining room. Your choice.’
‘Right here’s perfect.’
‘Okay. Tuck in then.’
‘Oh, this is good, Hannah. And just what I need. You’re an absolute saviour. You’ve no idea.’
Hannah beamed back.
&nb
sp; ‘So, how have you been?’ he asked when they’d settled into their meals.
‘Good. Better,’ she said thoughtfully. ‘Finally now I have more good days than bad.’
‘So, do you cook for a living, if it makes you so happy?’
‘Oh no, I’m an executive personal assistant. Well, I guess I still am.’
‘Oh?’
‘I’m in the process of changing jobs. My boss has just left the firm to go out on his own so I’m going too – to run his office and him, essentially.’
‘I can see how you’d be very good at that. You’re strong, but you’re also a nurturer. You take care of people – that’s where I think your true passion lies.’
‘You’ve got me sussed,’ she said with a laugh. It was quite special and a little unnerving to have a relative stranger get her so completely, so quickly. Especially when she’d only recently discovered this about herself. ‘You know, I’ve also become an agent to an artist – my best friend, Sam.’
‘Oh wow, how exciting.’
‘Well, not really. She’s just starting out.’
‘I love art. What does she do?’
‘All sorts. She’s very talented in a number of media, but still finding her thing. She’s actually having her first exhibition – a joint one – in a little under two months. That’s the portfolio I’ve done up for her on the end of the bench there,’ Hannah said, pointing. ‘Feel free to have a look through.’
‘I will,’ he said, pulling it towards him. ‘Oh, I see what you mean. She does seem very talented. And in so many media, like you say. That’s amazing.’
‘Well, at this point, it’s proving a bit of curse because she’s freaking out about what to focus on. She’s also got a lot else going on. Her husband has just announced he’s gay and disappeared to run his company’s office in Singapore, leaving her to look after their twin six-year-old boys.’
‘That’s a lot for her to deal with.’
‘Do you think everything’s connected?’
‘Um. Everything in what sense? Do you mean spiritually? You should know I’m anti organised religion. But please don’t ask me to explain my views now – I’m a bit too tired for such a deep, important subject.’
‘I’m against organised religion too, but I am starting to see there’s a powerful force out there pulling strings,’ Hannah said. ‘I’ve never really got it. Until recently. It’s strange how everything does seem connected.’
Making Peace Page 12
