Birthright

by Fiona Lowe

  The off-key strum of D flat twanged. ‘Did you have sex with Uncle Edmund?’

  ‘Wh-what?’ Two hundred and forty volts couldn’t have shocked her more. ‘Why would you ask me that?’

  ‘I overheard Mrs Riakos on the phone telling someone it was inevitable.’

  ‘Your maths teacher?’ Sarah’s face flamed with shame but the rest of her burned with fury. How dare gossips devoid of any professional etiquette or regard for Gus’s feelings make her a topic for their amusement. Her legs twitched, instructing her to march straight to the school this minute and accost the woman, tell her that the Hadfields’ private life was none of her goddamn business.

  ‘She had no right to say that.’

  Gus raised his head from the guitar and his long hair fell back to reveal the anguish on his face. ‘So it’s not true?’

  Like a caged animal, scared and cornered, her heart slammed against her ribs. The first time she’d fallen into bed with Edmund she’d been propelled by anger, hurt and betrayal. The next two times it happened had more to do with a craving to be loved and cherished and Edmund did that so well. Each time she saw him, sex hovered between them, a living and breathing entity, tempting her with the promise of escape and losing herself in its mindless bliss—a euphoria that drove out everything wrong in her life. In her more reflective moments, she glimpsed the attraction mind-altering substances offered people who wanted to forget, but she was learning that relief was short lived—an hour after orgasm, the endorphins dropped and the awfulness and anger flooded back, bringing guilt with them. Despite her self-righteous belief that Alex had pushed her into this, she couldn’t always ignore the guilt. She was adrift in her life without an anchor or buoy in sight.

  Surely this was the one occasion where lying to your child was the safest course of action? After all, she had no idea what the future held.

  ‘Uncle Edmund and I are friends, Gus. That’s all. You know your dad and I have been friends with him for years. He’s your godfather.’

  Gus’s head dropped, his hair falling forward like a curtain, and the chords played out again. ‘I think you like him more than Dad does,’ he muttered.

  Denial rose to her lips and stalled as Alex’s accusation played in her head: He’s your friend. ‘Nonsense.’

  Gus shrugged. ‘Whatever. I have to practise.’

  And just like that the conversation was over.

  During the drive back to town, Sarah couldn’t shift Gus’s words. If her son detected antipathy towards Edmund from Alex, why hadn’t she? Had she always known on some level that Edmund desired her as more than a friend? Worse still, had she subconsciously chosen to ignore Alex’s feelings to keep Edmund close because he was the yin to Alex’s yang?

  I haven’t been happy for a long time, Sarah.

  With a spray of gravel, she accelerated onto the main road. Back in range, her mobile rang and Finn’s name lit up on the dashboard screen. She was yet to speak to her other two children about the separation. Emma’s host family had taken her to Italy for a holiday and she’d been letting Finn concentrate on his exams.

  Pressing the accept call button on the steering wheel, she forced herself to sound upbeat and cheery. ‘Hello, darling.’

  ‘Hey, Mum. Just wanted to tell you I’m going to Queensland.’

  ‘You are? When? Where?’

  ‘End of next week. We’re going to Surfer’s.’

  No. The timing was awful; she wanted Finn home not only so she could tell him about the situation between her and Alex in person but so he could be at Riverbend with Gus during the school holidays.

  ‘I thought you were broke?’ she said.

  ‘Dad gave me the money and I bought my ticket yesterday.’

  He did what? She took a bend too fast and fright and fury whipped her. Heart racing, she pulled over before she killed herself. Alex had been complaining for weeks that their eldest son was dragging his heels getting a part-time job. ‘I’m paying twenty-five thousand in college fees so Finn’s housed, fed and watered. If he expects me to pay for his beer and shots, he’s got another thing coming.’ Sarah had wholeheartedly agreed with him, but now, without discussing it with her, Alex was paying for Finn to drink beer and shots on the Gold Coast.

  Speechless, livid and despairing, she pressed her forehead against the steering wheel. This was blatant power play. It was bad enough she and Alex were wounding each other at every opportunity, but she’d never anticipated that he’d fail to consult her on a parenting decision, especially when she was one who usually came up with the plan.

  ‘Mum? You still there?’

  ‘Sorry, darling, lost you for a minute.’ Sound calm and collected. ‘So, Queensland. Aren’t you lucky? You must have got Dad in a good mood. When will we see you?’

  ‘I’ve invited some college mates to come up to ski, but before you go all details on me, I’ll text you exact dates and numbers when I get back. But it won’t be before the fourteenth. Gotta go. Love you, Mum.’

  He hung up before she could say, ‘But that’s after school’s gone back.’ University holidays were a month long and Finn understandably wanted to ski on a quiet mountain but it left Gus alone for the entire school holidays. Any other year she’d have been thrilled Finn was bringing friends home, but not this time. Then again, perhaps having friends at Riverbend might take his mind off the fact his parents’ relationship was imploding more and more every day.

  She bit her lip. Should she and Alex FaceTime Finn and tell him that way? No. She wanted to tell him and hug him, reassure him—although how she’d do that when she had no idea what the future held, she had no idea. Her tattered and bleeding marriage now consisted of curt texts, because face-to-face meetings devolved into vicious contests. Alex’s request for space was morphing into a vast void. For more than twenty years, her husband, her kids and the business had defined her. Without all three, she was floundering. She missed work and the kids desperately. Missing Alex was a double-edged sword; right now, she was so furious with him it vaporised any desire to see him. It was better if she avoided seeing and thinking of him, because every time she did, she lurched between tears and intent to maim.

  She pulled back onto the road and had only travelled two kilometres when the phone rang again. Ellie? Ellie communicated by text. She almost never rang.

  ‘Hi, Ellie. What’s up?’

  ‘Hi, Sarah. Um, it’s the neighbourhood house community dinner tonight and I’ve just realised I don’t live in a shared house anymore. I was wondering …’ The hesitancy in Ellie’s voice held a combination of reluctance and hope. ‘Do you have plans tonight?’

  Did she have plans? Sarah wanted to say, ‘Oh, yes, I’m very popular. I’ve got a thousand invitations to choose from.’ The reality was that Edmund was tied up with the restaurant from five, and Alex and Gus were barely talking to her, and neither was Anita. Not that Sarah would welcome her sister-in-law popping over. Book group was tonight but as the book was about a marriage breakdown and the members would be ripe for the details of her own split, she was skipping the meeting. Her evening was indeed wide open.

  ‘I can babysit. It will be nice to have some kid company. If you ring after-school care, I can pick up Noah now.’

  ‘Thanks, Sarah.’ Ellie’s relief flowed down the line. ‘I appreciate it.’

  Ellie rang off and Sarah wondered at the turn her life had taken. Two weeks ago, she’d counted Alex and Anita in her top three go-to people for fun, support and unconditional love. She’d been confident she was in their top three too but Ellie had never been in her top three, thirty or three hundred. How could she be when she was standoffish, unreliable and totally uninterested in Sarah’s life? Ellie didn’t come close to being a go-to person and Sarah would have bet money that she was not in Ellie’s top anything … and yet her sister had just created history and asked for her help.

  Sarah smiled, humming a tune about miracles as she turned into School Road.

  * * *

  ‘I’m only hu
ngry for rainbow cake, Sarah,’ Noah said hopefully as he clambered onto a chair in the Mill House kitchen.

  She smiled, thinking about the lines her children had tried out over the years. ‘Are you now? How about you drink the smoothie and eat the cheese and biscuits and then I might be able to find you something sweet.’

  He shot her a gap-toothed smile. ‘Okay.’

  Sitting opposite him, she tried capitalising on his easy acquiescence. ‘Mummy says you’ve got spelling and reading homework.’

  His bottom lip fell. ‘Can I watch TV first?’

  It was Finn and Gus all over again. Emma always raced home, bolted a snack, completed all her homework and then played. The boys, on the other hand, delayed for as long as possible. She’d learned if they took a break, they eventually settled better and completed the homework. Besides, if Noah watched cartoons for half an hour, it would give her time to continue her search of Mill House. She was looking for hard evidence that her mother’s mental acuity was failing well before her stroke. She needed it to persuade Dan that Cameron had coerced Margaret into making the new will. She’d failed to convince him on Monday.

  ‘Sarah, the last time I saw your mother, she was her usual acerbic self,’ Dan had said, offering her a Mint Slice. ‘And unless her GP says she was compromised before the stroke, well …’ He’d given his ‘my hands are tied’ shrug. ‘I know it’s hard, Sarah, and hurtful, but she has the right to change her solicitor and her will.’

  ‘She hasn’t signed it, so is it even a will?’

  ‘Not until she signs it.’

  ‘I’ll fight tooth and nail if they try to get her to sign it now. Come on, Dan. Show me her old will?’

  ‘You know I can’t do that. And until the new will is signed, it is the will.’

  ‘Look, I don’t even know if her new instructions are different but I’d bet my bottom dollar they are and Cameron’s responsible.’

  ‘Proving undue influence is really tough.’ He’d sighed then and given her a reluctant smile. ‘See if you can find me some evidence that she’s been failing and we can go from there.’

  Sarah had kissed him and, ever since, she’d been on a mission. Her current routine was to arrive at Mill House after Ellie left for work and spend the morning searching for evidence. Then she’d visit her mother at the hospital over lunch and enjoy a couple of hours with Edmund before he started work at the restaurant. The busyness kept her mind from sinking into the dark morass that pulled at her whenever she thought about Alex, their marriage and the kids.

  She smiled at Noah, who now sported a white smoothie moustache, and she tried hard not to tumble into the tugging sadness that it wasn’t Gus sitting in his place.

  ‘I tell you what. You can watch TV for a bit while I look for something I’ve lost.’

  Noah’s eyes sparkled. ‘Is it treasure?’

  ‘I think you could probably call it that.’

  He shot off his chair. ‘I can help! I’m good at helping. Where do you think it is?’

  She’d already turned the study upside down and was now widening her search in a methodical, room-by-room approach. ‘I’m not sure. I’m going to start in the dining room.’

  Noah shook his head slowly and solemnly. ‘You can’t go in there.’ His seriousness surprised her. ‘Why not?’

  ‘Mummy said so.’

  Sarah smiled. ‘There are a lot of precious things in there that a little boy might accidently break, but I’m a grown up and I promise to be careful.’

  ‘No,’ he said firmly. ‘Mummy said no one’s allowed to go in.’

  ‘I think she’ll let me.’

  He looked unconvinced, almost worried. ‘You have to ask her first cos she said there’s bad air in there that makes people sick.’

  ‘Bad air?’ What? Why would Ellie say that? Was she trying to reduce the amount of housework by closing off some of the rooms? No; Sarah was paying Rita to clean, so that didn’t make any sense. Besides, Noah was old enough to obey the ‘look don’t touch’ rule. As a kid, she’d spent hours gazing into the locked vitrine, fascinated by the delicate Dresden lace skirts on the porcelain figurines and the detailed carving of the netsuke. Cameron had been equally intrigued by the antique compasses. Even if Ellie wanted to keep Noah out of the dining room, why invent such a story? If anything, Ellie usually over-explained situations to Noah instead of just saying ‘No.’

  ‘Sarah?’

  ‘Hmm?’

  ‘Is Gran sick because of the bad air?’

  ‘No, sweetie.’

  ‘Are you sure?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘But her room’s next to one with bad air.’

  Sarah blinked. ‘There’s more than one room with bad air?’ He looked at his feet and mumbled, ‘Yes.’

  The poor kid was scared stiff. She wrapped her arms around him, hugging him close, and wondered what the hell was going on. ‘I tell you what. I’ve got some special masks that will protect us. We can put them on and then we’re going into every room and opening all the windows. We’ll push the bad air out and welcome the fresh air in.’

  * * *

  The monthly Valley View Neighbourhood House women’s dinner was growing in popularity every month. Ellie got a great deal of personal satisfaction from watching women from two very different cultures discover that, when it came to their men and their children, they had a lot in common. The fantastic food was also an added bonus. That night, Susie Faraday from the dairy had come along specifically to meet the wives of the Burmese men working at Riverbend. Watching these sorts of connections build was gold and not only validated Ellie’s decision to take this job, but gave her a zip of happiness.

  Like every activity at the neighbourhood house, the monthly dinner depended on the generosity and enthusiasm of a marvellous band of volunteers. These good women cheerfully set up trestle tables, organised the food and then cleared everything away after the dinner, leaving Ellie free to chat and make certain everyone felt included. One of the great things about the dinner was that it not only forged links between other women, but it was considered a safe place. It surprised Ellie what women would share around a table when they were relaxed, issues they otherwise might not air, but it also heartened her. The day after a dinner was always busy with referral phone calls to local agencies and the female GP.

  Tonight was no different and she’d been flat out all evening, but now it was eight thirty, everyone had left and the neighbourhood house was blessedly quiet. Weary from a twelve-hour day, Ellie realised that by time she got back to Mill House, Noah would be asleep. Asking Sarah to mind him felt both right and wrong. No doubt Noah had loved every minute spent with his aunt; Sarah had the ability to make a fuss of children while at the same time ensuring they did their homework, ate their vegetables and cleaned their teeth. It was her special power—love and kindness within the parameters of routine.

  Ellie admired it but also resented it, especially when it spilled over to her. Sarah tried to mother everyone whether they wanted to be mothered or not. It made it hard to be grateful and tonight Ellie knew she should be filled with gratitude. God, she missed Guthrie Farm and the easy rapport. It was hard enough returning to Mill House each evening but tonight she’d have to make polite conversation with Sarah. At least there would be wine. She knew she wasn’t being fair, but being fair was hard work when estrangement was so much easier. The threat of homelessness had bulldozed the long-established buffer between them, bringing Sarah back into her life. It was like the curate’s egg—good in parts. Ellie just had to work out how to handle it.

  The dishwasher beeped its electronic tune and, in perfect procrastination mode, she turned up the music and unloaded the dishes, getting an inordinate amount of satisfaction from stacking crockery in neat piles.

  She was swinging her hips and belting out a very off-key version of ‘Absolutely Everybody’ when strong arms curved firmly around her waist. They pulled her against a solid body and then hot breath grazed her ear.

  F
ear froze her and a silent scream exploded in her mind. Adrenaline surged and years of self-defence classes kicked in. She shoved her booted foot into his kneecap, scraped it down his shin and stomped on his foot. His grip loosened. She dropped down then pushed up, bashing her head against his face and managing to throw off one arm. Grabbing his other hand, she turned fast and struck his elbow with her forearm before using everything she had to pull him forward. He fell face first to the ground. Panting hard, she pushed her foot onto the base of his skull and leaned her weight into it. It had probably taken less than twenty seconds but it felt like a decade.

  Sweat drenched her, blurring her vision, and the roar of her blood in her ears deafened her. Meanwhile, her mind raced, trying to solve the logistics of how to get to her phone to call triple-0 while preventing the intruder from moving and trying to hurt her again.

  ‘Jesus, Ellie. It’s me.’

  The muffled voice became clearer.

  ‘Luke. I’m Luke.’

  Luke? Her legs buckled and she crumpled to the floor, grabbing her knees and rocking. ‘Oh God, oh God, oh God.’

  He sat up gingerly. ‘Are you okay?’

  ‘No!’ Her body shook so violently she could barely speak. There are good men in the world. ‘I—You—Why?’

  Culpability wove into every plane of his face. ‘I’m really sorry. I wanted to see you one more time today and when I saw the lights on and the door open … I called out but I guess you didn’t hear me over the music. And you’re so sexy. You were doing that thing with your hips and it seemed like the best idea in the world to go up and hug you and dance along with you.’

  Her shocked brain struggled to decode the words. ‘Dance?’

  ‘Yeah. Obviously, I shouldn’t let my dick think for me. Shit, I’m sorry I terrified you.’ His hand touched her shoulder and she flinched. He pulled it back fast and she heard him stand and walk away. Then he was back.

  ‘Ellie. Drink this.’

  She raised her head and accepted the glass of cordial with a shaking hand. Somehow, she managed to drink it without spilling any down her front. It washed away the caustic taste of terror from her mouth so she could concentrate on slowing her breathing.