by Barker, Dawn
He shivered, despite the sun. His clothes were damp from the saltwater mist that showered over him as the waves broke below. His hands and feet were numb, as was he. The small photo of Anna was still clutched in his hand. He looked at it again, then laid it on the rock next to him. He stood up slowly and walked away, leaving the photograph behind. He didn’t believe in God, but he did believe that among the memories that swirled around these ancient cliffs in the ocean winds were those of a tiny baby, and that Jack knew, somehow, that his mother loved him.
CHAPTER FORTY-THREE
Four months after
Saturday, 16 January 2010
Anna put two cups and saucers down next to the teapot and milk jug on the wooden garden table. Emily came out behind her with a lemon madeira slice that she’d bought on the way over, two plates and a knife. She set them down in the shade and they both sat. Anna poured the tea.
The garden was overgrown. Insects buzzed as they flew between the long blades of grass and the pink hydrangea mopheads. It had drizzled overnight but now the summer sun shone and the damp garden glistened. Anna had always kept the garden so neat in the past, but she liked the wildness of it today. Perhaps she’d let it ramble from now on. She found herself thinking of the things she needed to do now that she was back home, and realised that it was the first time in months she’d thought about her future.
‘So, did you manage to get any sleep last night?’ Emily said, wiping a crumb of sponge from her chin.
Anna shrugged. ‘A little.’ There was no point worrying Emily by telling her about the night in the nursery.
‘Your mum looks a bit more relaxed today.’
‘I suppose she is. She won’t stop watching me though. The only reason she’s gone out now is because you’re here to babysit me.’ She heard the bitter tone in her voice and blushed. ‘Sorry, I shouldn’t have said that.’
‘Don’t worry – you’re right, I’ve got my orders not to let you out of my sight.’
Anna looked at her best friend and raised her eyebrows. Of course she couldn’t blame her mum for being worried. She’d put her through so much. ‘I know it’s horrible, but I wish in some ways she’d go home. A part of me just wants to be on my own now. I need to be a grown-up again.’
‘There’s plenty of time, Anna. It was only yesterday you were in court!’
‘I know.’ She shouldn’t have said anything. It would hurt Wendy so much to hear that she wanted her to leave. ‘I just feel like I need to see if I can cope on my own. I don’t know, maybe it’s not that. Maybe it’s just guilt that she’s had to give up so much to be here all this time. God, when I think of what I’ve put everyone through …’ Her cheeks flamed with shame.
‘Have you heard from Tony?’
Anna looked down and shook her head. ‘Not yet.’
‘You will.’
‘Do you think I should call him?’
Emily stretched her bare legs out into the sun. ‘I don’t know. Maybe.’
‘I don’t know what I’d say to him. What can I say?’ Anna looked up at the sky. ‘I’m worried that when I see him, I’ll just … freak out, lose it.’
‘But what would be so wrong with that? It’d be a normal reaction. You don’t have to pretend to be something you’re not.’ Emily tilted her head. ‘You’ll be fine, Anna. You will be able to cope. You’ve been through probably the worst thing that anyone could ever experience, and it can only get easier.’
Anna smiled through her tears. ‘I didn’t cope before,’ she said in a small voice.
Emily frowned. ‘You’ve got to stop this! You need to stop torturing yourself. You were ill. It’s no different from someone who gets cancer – you wouldn’t blame them for that, would you?’
Anna felt herself tense. ‘But what if you’re wrong? What if the doctors and the lawyers and the judge were wrong?’ She knew then what she was terrified of. ‘What if this happens again, Em? What if I do something like this again?’ She covered her face with her hands.
She could never have another child. Never.
Emily was silent while Anna cried. She waited until Anna’s sobs began to quieten before she spoke again. ‘Anna, it wasn’t your fault.’
Anna waited a few minutes to compose herself and then she looked at her best friend. She had to believe Emily. She had to stop feeling sorry for herself. How else was she going to move on? ‘I just wish I could go back. I’d do anything …’
‘But you can’t. You can’t. It’s happened.’
Anna’s voice was hoarse. ‘I know.’
And she did know. She couldn’t change what had happened that day. She had to let it go.
* * *
Once Wendy had returned and Emily had gone home, Anna knew what she had to do. While her mum was unpacking the shopping, Anna looked in the fridge, then the pantry, then the bread bin, knowing she needed an excuse to leave the house without Wendy.
‘Mum, I really fancy sushi for lunch. I think I’ll just walk round to the Japanese down the road. Do you want some?’
Wendy paused and looked up. ‘I’ll come —’
‘No, it’s OK,’ Anna said and smiled. ‘What would you like?’
‘Do you think —’
‘It’s only round the corner. I’m fine.’
She could see that Wendy was struggling with the idea of letting her go out on her own. She felt a surge of irritation, then guilt. She lowered her voice. ‘Sorry, Mum. I’d just like to have a bit of a walk on my own. I promise I’ll be fine.’
‘OK. Just get me whatever you’re having.’
Anna nodded. She saw her mum’s pale face and leaned forward to kiss her on the cheek. Then she picked up her bag and walked out.
As soon as she was out of view of the house, she opened her bag and took out her mobile phone. She scrolled through her contacts until she found Tony’s name; her finger hovered over it and she paused, tapping her foot. God, what was she going to say? Maybe he wouldn’t answer; then she could leave a message. That would be easier. She took a few deep breaths, then quickly touched the screen before she could change her mind.
He answered. ‘Hi.’
‘Hi. It’s me. Anna.’ She shook her head. Of course he knew it was her.
‘I was going to call you today, sorry,’ he said quickly. ‘I meant to call you yesterday …’
She didn’t know whether to believe him or not. She wanted to. Don’t cry, don’t cry, she told herself silently. ‘I need to talk to you.’ Her voice shook. ‘Tony, I’m so sorry. Can I see you? I really need to see you …’
His voice shook too. ‘Hold on, let me just go outside.’
Anna pictured Ursula hovering in the background, trying to work out who he was on the phone to. Did Tony know about what had happened between her and Ursula at the courthouse? In a way, she hoped he did know, and that he’d be proud of her for standing up for herself. But what if he sided with his mum? What if he agreed with Ursula, and didn’t want to see Anna again? She swallowed; her avoiding Tony wouldn’t change that. If he didn’t want to see her again, it was better to know. It was the only way she could move forward.
His voice returned. ‘Sorry. I’m outside now.’
Anna could hear a car driving past and some birds cheeping. ‘Are you at home?’
‘Yeah. Should we go out for dinner or something, talk properly?’
Dinner? Anna gasped. Dinner was a couple of hours together, more than she’d dared hope that he would give her. She closed her eyes and smiled, wishing she could hug him. She knew he was struggling to keep control of his emotions, and felt such fondness and love for him. ‘Yes, yes, it sounds great. When?’
‘Tonight? Why don’t I pick you up about seven?’
Anna let the tears roll down her face, but tried to keep her voice even so as not to give herself away. ‘Great. That sounds great. Yes, I’ll see you then.’
She replayed the conversation in her head as she sauntered towards the Japanese restaurant. He had said he was going to call her;
he wanted to go for dinner. Could she dare to hope that maybe there was some chance for them after all?
Tonight, she would know for sure.
* * *
Anna sat on the couch next to her mum as the six o’clock news started. Wendy was sitting with her legs tucked under her, frowning at the crossword in the paper. The French doors were open to the back garden to let in some air, and the room was filled with the heady scent of jasmine. Anna couldn’t concentrate on the news. She had spent the rest of the day trying not to think about tonight. It seemed ironic that after so many imagined conversations with Tony, she now had no idea what she would say to him. But first she had to tell Wendy. She took a deep breath, kept her eyes facing forward, and spoke as casually as she could.
‘I’m going out for dinner tonight, Mum.’
Wendy lifted her pen into the air and turned to her, peering over her reading glasses. ‘Oh?’
‘With Tony.’
Wendy smiled. Anna relaxed a little. She felt like a teenager telling her parents about a first date, hoping for approval. And her mother approved. ‘When did you talk to him?’
‘I called him earlier, when I went to the shops.’
‘Are you OK?’
Anna forced herself to sound nonchalant. ‘Yes, fine; it has to happen sooner or later. I need to talk to him properly.’ She got up and yawned. ‘I suppose I should go and get ready.’ Before Wendy could say anything else, she walked out of the room.
After showering, she stood in the steamy bathroom and blow-dried her hair. She opened her make-up bag and put on some foundation and mascara, then added some blusher and just a touch of eyeliner. She looked in the mirror: too obvious. She picked up her phone from the vanity and swore: she was running out of time. The make-up would have to do. She found a hairband under the sink and tied her hair back in a ponytail. That was better. She looked nice but not like she was trying too hard.
She hurried through to her bedroom and put on some jeans and a sheer pink floral blouse that Tony had always liked. Some tan wedges and she was ready. She glanced in the full-length mirror on the back of her door and paused. She looked normal; she looked like herself. If someone didn’t know, they’d never guess to look at her.
She went back into the living room to say goodbye. Wendy was outside, pacing around the garden smoking. Anna slid open the glass door. ‘I’m off, Mum. Do you want me to order you some takeaway?’
Wendy dropped her cigarette and scrunched her foot on it, then took a step back towards the house. ‘No. I can drive you if you want, then you can have a drink. I can get some food on the way back, then pick you up later?’
‘No thanks, Mum, Tony’s picking me up. I’ll wait out the front. There are some delivery menus in the bottom drawer in the kitchen, so order yourself something nice.’
Wendy looked down, and Anna sensed her disappointment. It must be hard for her mother to let her go again, just like when she left home for the first time, off to university in another city, no longer in need of her mother. Now, like then, Anna needed to step away. And now, like then, she was overwhelmed with guilt at leaving her mother alone. But they both needed to learn how to be themselves again. She looked at her phone: almost seven. ‘I’ve got to go, Mum. Thanks. I love you.’
Wendy raised a hand to wave goodbye and blew Anna a kiss. Anna walked through the house to the front door and then closed it behind her.
* * *
Tony turned the taps on full to rinse the shaving cream and dark stubble from the sink, then patted his face dry with a hand towel. Glancing up at himself in the mirror, he could see he’d lost weight. He looked pale too, and his dark eyes were dull. He sighed and hung the towel back on the towel ring.
He knew that this conversation with Anna had to happen. While he knew what he ultimately wanted to say to her, he was scared that when he actually saw her, he’d change his mind. Part of him wanted Anna to convince him that he was making the wrong decision.
Once he had dressed in jeans and a short-sleeved checked shirt, Tony hesitated outside the lounge room. The door was ajar, and he could hear the television. He pushed the door open and leaned around it. Jim and Ursula both looked up.
‘I’m off,’ he said, hoping they wouldn’t ask questions.
‘Anywhere nice?’ Ursula said, smiling.
Tony took a deep breath; they’d find out anyway. ‘Yeah. Just into Bondi for dinner … with Anna.’
Ursula’s eyes widened and she said nothing. Jim looked at her, then smiled at Tony. ‘You OK?’
He nodded and tried to make his voice sound casual. ‘Yeah, of course.’ He could see that the colour had drained from his mother’s face and she was floundering. He felt a pang of tenderness for her. She was trying her best, he knew that, and she was just doing what she thought was right. He let go of the door and walked over to the couch, then crouched down next to her. Seeing that she was trying not to cry, he put his hand on her shoulder. She clasped her hand over his.
‘Mum, don’t worry. I know what I’m doing.’
Ursula nodded and tried to smile.
‘Well, have a good time,’ Jim said.
Tony smiled in gratitude at his quiet old dad, with his grey stubble and dirt under his fingernails from a day’s gardening. Jim had always trusted Tony to make the right decision – even if it turned out that he’d chosen badly, Jim still trusted him to fix it. He was just the kind of father that Tony hoped he would be one day, if he had another chance.
‘I won’t be late,’ he said softly, and then he stood up again and walked out.
* * *
Ursula sat motionless as Tony walked away from her. She listened to the front door open and close, and heard his car engine start up then fade as he drove away. Her bottom lip began to tremble. Jim turned off the television, moved closer to her and put his arm around her. She bowed her head.
‘He’s gone, Jim.’
‘He’ll be back.’
She shook her head. ‘Tony’s gone. He’ll go back to her.’ She managed to lift her face up to look at her husband. ‘We’ve lost him …’
Jim sighed. ‘Don’t be silly, love.’
‘I knew this would happen. Everything I’ve done in my life has been for my kids, and they just throw it back at me!’
‘Don’t cry.’ Jim squeezed her towards him. ‘He’s not throwing anything back at you. It’s only dinner with Anna. It’s something he needs to do – he can’t avoid her forever.’
She felt herself crumple up in his arms and her shoulders heaved with sobs. ‘I can’t help but feel this is all my fault.’
‘Oh love, not this again. Don’t be silly, it’s —’
‘Silly?’ She shrugged him off and stood up. ‘Silly? I didn’t see you trying to help! You just sat back and let me make all the hard decisions, and now you blame me —’
He looked up at her. ‘I’m not blaming you, Ursula. You’re blaming yourself. Come on, sit down.’
She wiped away her tears, furious with herself for getting so upset. She wanted to scream at someone, but she knew it wasn’t Jim’s fault. Over the last few months she’d focused all her anger on Anna, but maybe the person she held the most vitriol for was herself.
‘What am I meant to think? First Lisa’s baby, now Tony’s. What have I done to deserve this?’ She put her hands over her face and sobbed. Jim stood up and embraced her, then drew her down onto the couch again.
‘Oh Ursula,’ he whispered. ‘Lisa was so young – you know we made the right decision. Look at how well she’s doing now. Anyway, this has nothing to do with that.’
Ursula could remember that conversation with Lisa as though it had happened only minutes ago. Lisa was only fifteen then; just a child. It was some older boy’s baby, of course, some monster who took advantage of a young girl at a party after she’d had a few drinks. Lisa wouldn’t tell Ursula who he was, and had begged her not to tell Jim, but she’d had to. It wasn’t the kind of decision she could make alone. That day had been terrible. They’
d sat here, in this very room, and cried and shouted at each other. Ursula had tried to listen to Lisa, tried to be supportive, but she couldn’t show anything but fury. In reality, she had been frightened. Lisa was so naive, thinking she could have the baby then put it up for adoption. She couldn’t have hidden the preganacy – what would they tell people? Besides, Ursula knew that once a mother held her newborn in her arms, they were bonded forever. Lisa – at fifteen – couldn’t understand the pain and endless longing she would suffer if she didn’t keep the baby.
Exhausted, Ursula had gone to church the next day. She lit a candle; she fingered her rosary beads; she prayed. Why had she gone there? She knew its stance on abortion – it was the same as her own. It was wrong. Until it involved your own child. Perhaps she had gone there hoping that something would change her mind. A sign, a message, to renew her faith. But there was nothing in that church that could counter the image of her own child being teased and ostracised and judged. Nothing that could overpower the image of her own child sobbing when she realised that she had to say goodbye to her baby. There was no choice: she couldn’t let Lisa ruin her life. She had walked out of the church, and as the heavy door swung closed, left part of herself behind. She called the clinic, made an appointment for the next day, then told Lisa what was going to happen. Lisa screamed and cried, but Ursula stood firm. She knew what was best for her children.
But now, years later, she wasn’t so sure she’d made the right decision. She looked up at Jim. ‘We shouldn’t have done it. It’s come back on us, full circle.’
Jim held her until eventually she stopped crying. Then he said, ‘Ursula, I love you, and the kids love you. This is not your fault.’
Ursula nodded brokenly. She wished she still believed in God, so she could accept that there was some warped, divine reason for this. But she knew there wasn’t. She curled up under Jim’s arm. As her breathing settled and her mind calmed, Ursula felt safe for the first time since that morning in September when she had called Tony to say Anna and Jack weren’t at home.
