The Practice Baby

by LM Ardor

  Marlena kept Dee updated about the legal processes. Adam’s legal team had organised a plea bargain. There was to be no further investigation of the other deaths. According to Marlena, any connection to Adam was circumstantial and many of the cases were too old or happened outside Australian jurisdiction.

  Dee tried to argue for police to examine practices at GenSafe IVF.

  ‘It’s not going to happen.’ Marlena was emphatic. ‘Nothing you’ve told us about is even recognised in the law—it can’t be illegal if it’s not recognised. We want to get this guy but if we go after everything we could lose out completely. This way he gets six to eight years jail time, his reputation is trashed and his career is over. It’s the best we’ve got.’

  A week after Adam was remanded in custody another of the scary brown letters ‘To be opened by the addressee only’ was there on the hall table.

  The Medical Board has postponed its enquiry into the complaint against Dr Dee Flanary until a related matter in the criminal court is resolved. Her right to practice is currently unrestricted.

  Her case had been put on hold till the outcome of the case against Adam. There was no apology, no mention of Adam as the person who had criminal charges against him. A naive reader of the letter could reasonably interpret that the criminal matter was against Dee. The phrase ‘currently unrestricted’ was hardly reassuring. The qualification suggested the imminent possibility of a restriction.

  At first, she was relieved. No one knew and no one had to know. But she had done nothing wrong. Why didn’t she want them to know? Why was she ashamed?

  Raj was back. Dee hadn’t seen him. Tonight he was bringing pizza. Thanks goodness for Raj.

  She should tell him. Of everyone, he was the most likely to understand. She knew though that she wouldn’t.

  68.

  Wednesday afternoon was now Dee’s afternoon off. A regular afternoon off was the first change she’d made since ‘the incident’. The second was the one she was about to reveal to the children now.

  She parked in the street parallel to the ‘surprise’. She wanted them to come upon the house on foot. Once they were out of the car Beatrice, Oliver and Eleanor kept up a chant of ‘Is it this one?’ and ‘Oh no, not that’ with twisted faces and disapproving voices.

  The streets of this part of Glebe were wide and quiet, lined with untidy peppercorn trees with their fine, soft green leaves and aromatic pink berries. The berries crunched underfoot on the white gravel pavements. The area felt like a country town with streets of single-storey terrace houses all painted the same heritage colours of cream and oxblood. A big parcel of the suburb had been an estate owned by the Anglican church so the houses from the early days of the colony of New South Wales were preserved essentially unchanged.

  Around the block they saw a sold sign on the front of the corner house. It was basically the same as all the others in the street but the corner position meant more windows and light.

  ‘Blah, it’s this one,’ the three of them said together, still with negativity in their voices.

  Their father had let the cat out of the bag a couple of weeks ago about buying back the Glasshouse. So far Dee had resisted pressure to say where they would be moving to. The three children had wildly different views about what they wanted. Dee knew there was no resolution that would keep all of them happy so she made the decision herself. This way no one got their own way and Dee wasn’t siding with one against the others. They could move in with Rob and Stephanie if they wanted. They’d be grown up soon, it was time to think of what she wanted once they were gone.

  There was a small front garden with weeds, an old lemon tree and a broken terrazzo front veranda. She got through the two locks on the front door and opened it onto a long dark hall. It was about ten degrees cooler inside and smelt of damp with a whiff of tomcat. Ollie went straight through to the end where the hall opened into a large combined kitchen, dining room and lounge. Big French doors opened onto an overgrown garden that sloped down gently to reveal the tips of the city skyline in the distance.

  Beatrice and Eleanor came down the hallway with glowering looks. Eleanor had the beginnings of tears in her eyes and stayed quiet but Beatrice gave Dee a blast.

  ‘There’s only two bedrooms! In case you haven’t noticed you’ve got three children.’

  Oliver ran back along the hall. ‘Yeah, Mum, two bedrooms. Is there a hidden dungeon?’ He sounded resentful.

  Dee felt guilty. She thought the surprise might minimise their distress but knew there was no way she could sell it to them without provoking some conflict.

  ‘Everybody calm down. There’s more!’ She took Ellie by the hand and put her arm around her shoulder. ‘Follow me.’

  Dee went out into the garden and unlocked a partly overgrown gate in the fence. They ducked under the morning glory vine into next door. This house was original and unrenovated with rough brick paving and a short passage past a laundry and shower/toilet to a coloured glass back door. Dee unlocked the door with a big old-fashioned key.

  The kitchen had a green enamel stove and floral linoleum that looked unchanged from the 1940s. Ollie pushed past them all through to the hallway.

  ‘Yep, three bedrooms. No bathroom though and it’s freezing cold. You can hardly see in here.’

  Once they had all looked over the place, Dee took charge and herded them back to the first house. Out of the dark and in the warmth of the sun, she sat them down in a line on the edge of the terrace as it stepped down to the garden. She squeezed in between Ollie and Eleanor.

  ‘You want me to explain?’ Dee asked.

  They hadn’t forgiven her yet but Ellie, with her knee pressed up against Dee’s, whispered, ‘Yes.’ The others nodded.

  ‘I’m sorry, I thought it would be a nice surprise.’ That wasn’t entirely true but Dee couldn’t think of another way to tell them. ‘Anyway, you must have worked it out. I’ve bought both houses, and with the money left over we can afford to fix up next door for the three of you to have as your own.’ Dee paused to look at her children.

  Beatrice looked puzzled; unable to decide if this was to her advantage or not. Eleanor had snuggled closer so Dee couldn’t see her face. Oliver was non-committal.

  ‘There’s no bathroom and it’s all old?’ Ollie said but without the earlier resentment and in the tone of a question.

  ‘With the money for the Glasshouse there’s plenty left over to renovate. We can open out the back like here and put in a new kitchen. The bathroom will be off the kitchen so you’ll still have a bedroom each.’

  Ellie squirmed against Dee. ‘Does that mean we won’t live with you anymore?’ she said in a small voice.

  ‘Oh, darling, no, of course not. We’re going to put in a door in the hallway and another big opening between the kitchens. It’ll be just one big house.’

  The three of them were smiling now, considering the possibilities.

  ‘There’s another surprise too,’ said Dee.

  ‘Raj is moving in,’ Beatrice burst out.

  Dee laughed, surprised they were still concerned that they would lose her.

  ‘No, Raj is my friend. That’s enough. My life has enough complications and so does his.’

  Dee reached to put her arms around the three of them but the older two didn’t cooperate.

  ‘What’s the surprise then?’ Ollie was suspicious still.

  ‘I’m not sure I want any more surprises today,’ Beatrice chipped in.

  Eleanor snuggled closer.

  ‘This is a nice one. Next door is in your names. It belongs to the three of you so when you’re older it’s an investment. You can rent it out or maybe sell it and have money for a good deposit for your own homes.’

  Bea and Ollie looked uncertain about what it meant but pleased. Eleanor still had her face hidden.

  She sat up and gave Dee a pleading look, her eyes still damp. ‘But I don’t want to leave you.’

  ‘Not for a long time and then you all have to approve. Maybe you
’ll all want to stay there forever so you can look after me when I’m old and can’t take myself to the toilet.’

  Ollie turned up his nose.

  Beatrice said, ‘There’s services for that.’

  ‘I’ll stay with you forever,’ Eleanor said.

  69.

  The lounge room was full of packing crates, piled two high along the glass outer wall. Ollie stood ready with another box.

  ‘No, not on top, they’re not strong enough,’ Dee called out to him from the hall. ‘Start another row on the floor.’

  She came in and squinted at the box he was carrying.

  ‘Is that labelled? The removalists need to know where to put things when we get there.’

  ‘It’s easy: anything unlabelled goes in my room,’ Ollie said with a grin of victory.

  ‘Oliver, you’re supposed to be here to help. Please don’t make this any more difficult, just do it.’

  She handed him a marker pen.

  Beatrice and Eleanor had the car packed to drive over to Glebe with some of the smaller things and an esky with the contents of the fridge. They at least were excited to be moving to the inner city. Next year Beatrice would be at Sydney University and Eleanor wanted to transfer to the Performing Arts High School at Newtown. Oliver was reluctant. All his friends and school were nearby. Public transport from Glebe to his school would be a nightmare. For the rest of this year Beatrice would give him a lift in the car Dee had bought her. Transport of siblings was a key promise in return for the present of a car.

  ‘If I want I can live with Dad and keep my own room so why move my stuff?’

  Oliver was intransigent. Dee hadn’t heard him like this before.

  ‘That’s between you and your father. If it’s okay with him it’s okay with me,’ Dee said through clenched teeth.

  She was too busy to deal with the fractious teenager Ollie had morphed into since the move was suggested. Maybe you should ask Stephanie, Dee thought but didn’t say.

  She left him, walked back to the kitchen and continued to pack. The designer corkscrew that never worked and the elaborate wine storage racks that matched the kitchen fittings but just took up bench space could stay. Dee bought wine when she wanted to drink it; who stored wine these days?

  Now that she could leave it all behind it hit her—how oppressed she’d been by the furniture and accessories Rob had designed. His masterpiece was in charge of her daily life: of how she sat in the evenings. The leather and chrome lounge suite that was too wide in the seat looked perfect in the sleek glass room but it was impossible to sit on. You could lie right down or perch upright on the front edge.

  Whether she wore clothes as she walked from room to room was determined by Rob. She’d been an exhibit in a museum of their failed marriage. From now on she would have privacy to be how she wanted. The first thing she bought for the Glebe house was a comfortable lounge.

  Ollie was speaking on his phone and his voice rose to a tone of wheedling, escalating to anger. Then silence. He must have hung up. She gave him a few minutes and went into his room where he sat on the floor in the middle of a mess of newspaper and packing cases.

  ‘No luck?’ She waited, Ollie didn’t look up but gave a tiny shake of his head.

  ‘You have to give him time and then time to sell the idea to Steph. She has to feel like this is her place too. You’ll still be coming for your regular weekends. I reckon next year once Bea is at uni we can work something out so you can stay here for term time.’

  ‘But I want you too.’ Ollie put both arms around her legs, like a toddler.

  Dee resisted the urge to sit down, to cuddle and reassure him. ‘You know you’ll be off at uni in a year and a half. You’re starting to have your own life … I have to have mine too.’

  ‘I know; but can’t I be a baby sometimes?’

  She patted him on the head. ‘Not now. Now I need you to be a grown-up. The case is coming up in court again next week. If we get everything done maybe we won’t have the blitzkrieg of media outside our house every day. I need help with all this.’

  ‘Oh, so the famous warrior doctor hero needs help, eh?’ He stood up and beat his chest like a gorilla. ‘Son of warrior hero to the rescue!’

  Now she was willing to cuddle him. But he didn’t need it anymore.

  ‘You know Dad is putting up curtains?’ Eleanor interrupted them. ‘They got them measured up last week.’

  Dee stood with her mouth open. After all her years oppressed by no privacy she was flabbergasted.

  ‘Stephanie said she wouldn’t move in unless Dad did it.’

  So the domination of Rob’s aesthetic over the lives of his family had been tamed. Good on Stephanie.

  70.

  The steamed dumpling trolley was around again. Dee tried to wave it away but Raj pointed to a basket of the scallop and garlic chive ones. They were her favourite. If she helped him to eat them the risk was she’d be too full for an egg tart.

  The Marigold Restaurant in Chinatown was one of the few left in the city with proper yum cha. That meant a huge room where steamy stainless steel trolleys laden with bite-sized, savoury, salty, spicy and sweet snacks snaked between the tables to tempt and tantalise. On Sunday morning it was crowded with Chinese families, from babies and toddlers to elderly grandmothers.

  This week it was her treat. Payback for the times Raj shouted her to the $100-plus per person places.

  ‘Enough, please, you need to save room for dessert,’ Dee said. ‘The secret is to pace yourself so you can have the things that don’t come around so often.’

  ‘What have we missed?’ Raj said, scanning the room.

  ‘That’s not what I meant. You can’t always have what you want, at least not all the time.’

  Dee knew she was on shaky ground. He was permanently slim and always ate whatever he wanted. The glass-enclosed dessert trolley arrived. It was best to get the egg tarts now in case they didn’t come back for a while. Two yellow moons of rich egg custard enclosed in meltingly delicious flaky suet pastry were put on their table.

  ‘It’s all so delicious. I want to try everything. Why haven’t I been here before?’ His voice dropped and he turned the force of his beautiful eyes on her. ‘Anyway, why can’t I have what I want?’

  He put his hand on hers.

  ‘Because you’ll burst.’

  Raj continued to gaze at her like a puppy. She didn’t want to acknowledge what he meant. The move from the Glasshouse meant she was finally out of Rob’s oppressive everyday presence. It was time to make her own decisions, be in control of her own life.

  To be honest with herself, she wasn’t sure of her post-menopausal body as a piece of sexual equipment. It hadn’t been tested with another person since Rob and that was before full menopause. Her sexual interest in him had waned in her late forties. Dee wasn’t totally surprised by his discovery of himself again with Stephanie.

  Did her changed body have the capacity to give or receive pleasure? It was like being a sexually naive teen. She didn’t know how to manage the physical transaction with her post-hormonal body.

  Other people managed those things. Why couldn’t she? Maybe she wasn’t scared but wanted to stay in charge, not allow someone else’s judgement to be important. All of this had gone through her mind on the morning after their narrow escape from falling into bed in Orange. Since then, each time she was in the physical presence of the gorgeous Raj she tortured herself with the possibilities. Especially when he held her hand and looked at her with those cow-like eyes.

  Dee extracted her hand. The teapot was empty. She flipped the lid to indicate empty and caught the eye of a waiter to refill it. She gave him the stamped card so she could pay the bill.

  ‘Now we can eat the egg tarts. They’re good with the tea. It cuts the richness of the pastry.’

  Raj gave in, turned his eyes to the tarts. Dee refilled their teacups. Two blissful mouthfuls and the tarts were gone.

  The place was busy and their bill hadn’t come b
ack yet.

  ‘Delicious. The pastry is stunning. Thanks for bringing me,’ said Raj.

  He took advantage of the delay to put his hand back over hers. She liked the feeling of safety, of comfort and connection. Here in a restaurant there was no threat it could lead to anything more. She left her hand there.

  ‘What about I find us a place down the coast for the weekend after the case? An apartment or rooms at a hotel?’

  ‘Raj, I’m going for Leah. This is the first time she’ll have to see Adam in the flesh since the attack. She needs support. I need to be able to pay attention just to her. It’s easier if you stay at home. The press will be worked up to a frenzy. I don’t want front-page photos of me “escorted by a glamorous Indian playboy”.’

  ‘That’s ridiculous. I’m not a playboy.’

  ‘Stop being so literal. You know what it was like after Moruya. The press will grab any angle for a story.’

  Raj persisted. The trip to Wollongong for Adam’s sentencing was an occasion and, for Raj, occasions were to be respected and celebrated. He booked rooms at a hotel right on the beach at Austinmer for the weekend.

  *

  When Dee broached the idea with the kids they were happy. It wasn’t a Rob weekend and she allowed them to spend the weekend on their own for the first time. She warned them no parties, and no noise beyond 10 pm—nothing to alienate the neighbours who they hardly knew yet. Being alone seemed more significant to them than the idea that she would be away with Raj.

  They’d been away together before, to Orange. The pressure of his body against hers outside her room at the hotel was one of her treasured memories. They still saw each other regularly and spoke on the phone often—so no big deal. And it was rooms, plural.

  He was determined to be at the courtroom too. There was nothing Dee could do. He had a right to attend.