by Liz Byrski
‘And Ellis doesn’t?’
‘Oh, come on, Shaun, you must be able to see it. Ellis is contemptuous of women. That’s what all that slimy charm is about. As far as he’s concerned, women are a lesser species that you control with a mixture of charm and emotional bullying. He thinks we’re all here to boost his ego and serve his needs. And if you don’t believe me, just stop contemplating your own navel for a while and look at Heather. Her confidence is stuffed. She’s behaving like a headless chook because whatever she does it’s never quite right for his lordship. She’s a mess, and she thinks it’s all about the shooting, but I’ll bet you there’s a big dose of Ellis in there stirring the pot. Maybe you can’t see it, but Barbara and Jill will see it at Christmas. Women can always see another woman dancing as fast as she can to please a man. Especially when the man isn’t worth it.’
Shaun sat in his office contemplating Diane’s diatribe while she went across the road to collect some proper coffee. Maybe she was right. Heather was certainly different with Ellis than anyone he’d seen her with before. But then, he’d never seen her in love before. Wasn’t everyone different when they were in love? But if Diane were right, then it made him feel even worse about his plan to desert her. He surveyed the work on his desk, work he really had to finish before they closed. You can think about Heather later, he told himself, for now you just have to pull your finger out and clear your desk.
‘I’ve left your coffee in Heather’s office,’ Diane told him a few minutes later. ‘She asked me to tell you she wants a chat.’
‘Now?’
‘Now.’
Shaun sighed and got up. This was what he’d been trying to avoid. The end-of-year chat about setting up for the campaign. The chat he could not, in all fairness, have without coming clean about his intentions. He got up and made his way to Heather’s office with a heavy heart.
*
‘So, has Adam actually resigned,’ Renée asked, ‘or is he still thinking about it?’
‘He’s resigned,’ Jill said with a smile. ‘Did it on Monday. He said he’d do it before Christmas because it would mean he’d enjoy it more.’
‘And you’re sure you’re happy about it?’
‘I am ecstatic,’ Jill said, glancing around and realising that they had sat together at this same table a few months earlier on the day she’d spilled the beans to Renée. ‘It changes everything. Adam says that he’s felt for ages that he was living under a pile of wet newspaper and now it’s gone. And that’s exactly how it feels for me too. You wouldn’t believe the difference in him, Renée, since he started to take over the house, and now since Monday. He’s a different person.’
‘Not a saint anymore then?’ Renée asked, laughing.
‘No, thank god, he’s almost bossy, and I haven’t heard those Bach suites for ages. I know they’re wonderful, and I do now understand why they’ve been the background music to life for so long, but if I never hear them again I will be a very happy woman. When I got home last night, Adam was making pasta and playing my Diana Krall CD. I can’t really explain how significant that is.’
Waiting for Adam to make up his mind had been an exquisite sort of torture and Jill had feared his courage might fail him. She wanted this for him, for the children, but also for herself, for its potential to help her to change. Her own cautious abandonment of the old habits had made her spirits soar so that this seemed like the final liberating hurdle. She watched for signs, poised to take advantage of any opportunity to encourage him. And then, just when she’d thought he was backing off the idea altogether, he had come home late from The Messiah and slipped quietly into bed beside her. She pretended to be asleep, fearing that he was once again burdened by her vigilance, by the feeling that she was waiting for him to talk to her.
‘This time it’s me who knows you’re not asleep,’ he’d said, moving closer to her, sliding his arms around her.
‘Guilty,’ she’d said, turning towards him. ‘How was The Messiah?’
‘Handel is one of my favourites,’ he said. ‘It was magnificent, which is very good because it’s probably the last time I’ll play that with the orchestra.’
Jill sat up, leaning on one elbow. ‘You mean . . . ?’
‘I mean tomorrow I’m going to resign.’
‘Really?’ she said. ‘Really, Adam? Are you sure it’s what you want? I haven’t bullied you into it?’
‘Of course you’ve bullied me,’ he said, pulling her back down to lie with him. ‘You are a terrible bully, but I needed it.’
‘But . . .’
‘But yes, I’m sure it’s what I want. And frankly, I just can’t wait to write that letter and deliver it to the general manager’s office.’
Renée raised her glass. ‘That’s just brilliant,’ she said. ‘Here’s to Adam doing his own thing, and you abandoning the domestic Madonna.’
Jill laughed. ‘It is an amazing relief, especially coming in a year when I don’t have to have everyone for Christmas. We’re waiting to tell the rest of the family at Heather’s on Christmas Day. This is going to be the best Christmas in a very long time.’
Heather had originally planned to have her conversation with Shaun when they reopened the office after the holiday. But she feared he might get wind of it on Christmas Day. Ellis could be unpredictable and he might just let something slip. She couldn’t allow that to happen. Shaun had been totally committed and loyal all the time he’d worked for her, often going above and beyond any reasonable expectations, but he needed to think about his own career, especially as she was contemplating ditching her own.
She got up from behind her desk, carrying both their coffees, and indicated the armchairs by the coffee table. She thought he looked awful: exhausted, nervous and on edge. Clearly, the news about Danny and the shooting was taking its toll.
‘Come and sit down, Shaun,’ she said. ‘You don’t look too good.’
He took his coffee and dropped into the chair, lifting the plastic lid from the cardboard beaker. ‘Just tired, and trying to get used to the idea of what’s happened,’ he said.
He seemed to be having difficulty making eye contact with her and she wondered whether he was still feeling the initial guilt he’d expressed about the fact that she’d been shot because of him.
‘Look,’ she said, ‘there’s something we need to talk about before we close down and go to lunch.’
‘Yes,’ he said, ‘I know. Next year, the campaign and so on.’
‘Well, yes,’ Heather said, sipping her coffee. ‘But there’s something I need to tell you first, and it’s quite difficult.’ She paused, feeling guilty herself now. Here he was ready to talk about the campaign, ready to throw himself heart and soul into working for her re-election . . . ‘I don’t know quite how to say this,’ she said, ‘but I don’t really want to talk about the campaign at this stage. You see, Shaun, I’m having serious doubts about running again. I’m going to decide over the next week or so, but I think the time may have come for me to turn it in.’
‘Not run?’
‘It’s a shock, I know, and I’m sorry. Even if I do run, I’ll probably only stay for another year. Either way, you need to think about your own future. You’ve been brilliant, Shaun, but you came here with big plans and they’re long overdue.’
Shaun felt the tension slowly leaving his body. He ran a hand over his closely cropped head. ‘Not run, that never occurred to me,’ he said.
‘I know, and look, I haven’t decided yet, but Ellis and I have talked about it and he wants me to resign. I didn’t want you to get wind of it without my having told you.’
Shaun nodded and took a long drink of his coffee. ‘The party will have a fit,’ he said. ‘It’s very short notice to pre-select and announce a new candidate.’
‘Yes, the goodwill that emerged over the shooting will be a thing of the past. I’ll be the she-devil. But it might be better than a by-election at a later stage. It’s you I’m concerned about, though; if you give it some thought we can
start talking to the right people.’
Shaun leaned forward, resting his forearms on his knees. Heather thought some colour had come back into his face.
‘Well,’ he said, smiling, ‘the thing is, Heather, I’ve already spoken to the right person.’
TWENTY-TWO
‘But why do we have to wait so long for our presents?’ Daisy wailed miserably from the back seat. ‘Why can’t we just have them when we get there?’
Jill sighed. ‘Because we’re having lunch first, then presents afterwards.’
‘We could have lunch straight away when we get there,’ Daisy pleaded. ‘I’m hungry already.’
Adam caught her eye in the rear-vision mirror and shook his head. ‘Lunch will be a while, Daise,’ he said. ‘It’ll only be midday when we get there. We’ll probably eat at about two.’
Daisy let out a huge sigh. ‘That’s hours. It’s not fair! I want to have my presents.’
‘You’re a greedy pig,’ Toby said. ‘Isn’t she, Dad? She already had her stocking this morning.’
‘All right, Tobes,’ Adam said, ‘you’re happy to wait, are you?’
Toby sized up his father’s expression in the mirror to see if a change were on the cards, but Adam’s jaw was set. ‘If that’s what’s happening, it’s okay with me,’ he said, and looked straight out of the window, missing the twitch of Adam’s suppressed grin.
‘It does seem a bit unfair, doesn’t it?’ Jill said softly. ‘Do you think it’s a habit first introduced to torture children, or parents?’
‘God knows,’ Adam said, ‘but I think people who don’t have children really haven’t a clue how difficult the waiting is for them and, because of that, for us.’
‘I like it better having Christmas at home or at Aunty Barb’s because we always have our presents in the morning.’
‘Stop whining, Daisy,’ Jill said.
‘I bet that Ellis man made it up.’
‘Maybe he did but we’re not arguing about it,’ Jill said. ‘We’re guests at Aunty Heather’s house and I want you to remember to be nice and polite. Both of you.’ There was a grumpy silence from the back seat. Toby had disappeared into his iPod. ‘You too,’ she said softly to Adam, patting his leg.
‘Same as before,’ he said, turning his head to smile at her. ‘Civil. In my new benign state, the only thing Ellis has to fear from me is being ignored.’
‘That’s –’
‘I know, darling, I’m only joking. Civil, remember? George and I will both be civil to him. We agreed to it on the phone.’
‘You were talking to George?’
‘Yep. We had a chat. He and Barb have been making lesson plans for China and he had this idea of how they could use music.’
‘Even I do sort of wish that Ellis wasn’t going to be there,’ Jill said quietly. ‘I didn’t like him much.’
‘That’s because you are a woman of wisdom and good taste,’ Adam said, smiling at her again.
‘So what does that say for Heather?’
Adam’s smiled faded. ‘I’m trying to think of it as an aberration on her part,’ he said. ‘An aberration brought on by the trauma of the shooting, exhaustion and being a bit lonely. That’s what Barb thinks.’
‘Hmm. Well, you may be right,’ Jill said, ‘but I probably talk to her more than either of you do these days and I think she’s really into him. She’s enjoying having someone of her own. It must be lonely, in your late fifties, single, with a really demanding job. He might turn out to be a lot of support for her. And if he does, in the end you’re going to have to unbend a bit and be more than just civil.’
‘Let’s not even go there,’ Adam said. ‘Civil is all I’m promising at present and, as you so eloquently pointed out to me recently, the present is all we’ve got.’
*
‘A quick glass of champagne before your hordes of friends and relatives arrive,’ Ellis said, popping the cork and pouring two glasses. He handed one to Heather and leaned forward to kiss her. ‘To us,’ he said, raising his glass. ‘The first of many Christmases together.’
Heather clinked her glass against his. ‘To us,’ she said. ‘To lots of Christmases and lots of other wonderful celebrations.’ They sipped the champagne, and Heather took a long breath and sat down. ‘I haven’t done Christmas at my place for years. We usually go to Barbara’s or to Jill and Adam. It means a lot to me to have them all here with you.’ She’d had a horribly busy week; squeezing all the shopping, preparations and several essential social events into the last few days had wiped her out. And, on top of that, there was Ellis’s persistent sex drive to deal with.
‘I don’t quite know how to put this,’ she’d said a couple of nights earlier, ‘but I wondered . . . are you taking anything?’ She was longing for sleep and recalling it now she could see that exhaustion had made her phrase it more bluntly than she might otherwise have done – and from there it went from bad to worse.
‘What do you mean, “taking anything”?’ Ellis asked.
‘Well,’ she said, ‘you know, Viagra or something.’
‘Why ever would you think that?’ he asked, looking in the opposite direction. ‘I may be considerably older than you, Heather, but I can still get it up.’
Heather blushed with embarrassment. ‘Sorry, darling; oh, please don’t be offended. I just wondered because you do seem to want to do it a lot and you never have any problem with erections, which I think is probably quite unusual for someone . . . someone . . .’ Her voice trailed away.
‘For someone my age, you mean?’
‘Well, yes.’
Ellis stretched his legs out in the bed and turned to her. ‘And suppose I was taking something?’
Heather groaned inwardly at the emergence of the barrister. ‘That’s fine, or I mean it would be fine, if that’s what you were doing.’ A burning blush suffused her as she struggled to dig herself out of the situation. ‘I wouldn’t want you to think that I minded if you were. You could tell me.’ His silence was arctic and, feeling now like a manic Lucille Ball confronting a stony-faced Desi, she heard her words tumbling out too fast. ‘I mean, it would be fine with me if . . . well, if we didn’t do it so often.’
‘So you don’t enjoy our lovemaking?’
Heather plunged, lemming-like, ever deeper. ‘Heavens no, Ellis, it’s not that. No, it’s wonderful, really wonderful, and you’re a terrific lover, it’s just that if you were taking something and didn’t like to tell me, then I wanted you to know that you could tell me. And if you were concerned about taking it too often, there are heaps of other ways . . .’ She’d always found it difficult to talk openly about sex. ‘I mean, different things we could do that would mean you wouldn’t have to take so much.’
‘I see,’ Ellis said eventually. ‘It’s very thoughtful of you, Heather, but you don’t need to worry, it’s all my own work, I’m pleased to say. But, of course, if you’re finding it too much . . .’
‘Oh no,’ Heather leapt in, anxious to put things right. ‘Not in the least, as I said, it’s wonderful. I was just trying to . . . well, trying to be thoughtful. You know, I just love being with you whatever we do – I mean, however we do it.’
‘There’s no need to worry about me, Heather,’ Ellis said, leaning over to kiss her. ‘No need at all.’
But she still wasn’t sure that she believed him, and she hadn’t abandoned the idea of searching his toilet bag or his briefcase for evidence. She hadn’t a clue what she’d do if she found it but it would be proof of vulnerability, and for some reason that would be endearing. Heather looked up at him now, standing by the fireplace, champagne glass in hand; he was a fine looking man with a commanding presence that had been there even in his youth. The young Ellis was still there, just as the young Heather was still within her, and they were together again because of that early love. That was what mattered, the rest was all incidental.
‘To you, my darling,’ she said, smiling and raising her glass. ‘Merry Christmas, and here’s to a very spe
cial year ahead.’
‘Looks like we’re first to arrive,’ George said, pulling into the drive and handing Barbara the car keys. ‘You’re in charge from now on.’ The deal was that he would drive there and Barbara, who rarely drank more than one glass of wine, would drive home.
She put the keys in her bag. ‘Thank god you’re not a roaring drunk,’ she said, ‘or I’d have to drop you off in a ditch somewhere.’
‘Wouldn’t put it past you, anyway,’ George said with a grin, ‘you in your new schoolmarm mode.’
Barbara put her hand on his arm to stop him getting out of the car. ‘Isn’t it exciting? China. I can’t believe we’re doing it. I just want Christmas to be over and then it’s only a few weeks and we’re off.’
George took hold of her hand. ‘I can’t believe it either, and I don’t know why I waited so long. All my life I wanted to see China, to stand on the Great Wall, and now it’s really going to happen. Bloody hell,’ he added, pointing down the drive, ‘Ellis is waiting for us at the door, playing mine host, I presume. Pity we can’t ship him out to China to get his balls frozen off right now.’
‘George!’ Barbara said. ‘Be nice. Heather’s in love with him. Don’t spoil it for her.’
‘’Course not. I shall be the soul of diplomacy and avoid him as much as possible. Here we go then.’
They struggled out of the car and Ellis strode up the drive to meet them.
‘Barbara, George,’ he said. ‘Merry Christmas, how lovely to see you again. Do you need a hand to bring anything in from the car?’
‘Merry Christmas, Ellis,’ Barbara said as he bent to kiss her. ‘There are presents and a pudding in the boot.’
‘At your service,’ Ellis said with a mock salute before turning to George and extending a hand.
‘G’day, Ellis,’ George grunted. ‘Greetings and all that,’ and he flipped open the boot and lifted out a large basket of red and gold wrapped parcels and handed them to him. ‘Give those to Heather, will you? Ask her to stick ’em under the tree.’
