by Jane Carter
‘Wild horses won’t keep them from coming, I’d be guessing.’ Rosie had joined the group. ‘Got to go see their wonderful eldest daughter. Good work, Diana. Granny would be pleased.’
‘That was a lovely reading, Rosie.’ Una reached over and squeezed her hand before they both moved away.
‘Ah yes. I’m used to taking second place.’ Rosie’s eyes followed them, ‘Maybe after you’ve gone, Diana, everything will get back to normal. Not that I’m aware what normal is at the moment. My husband won’t talk to me, my parents have decided to stay on the farm and no one gives a damn what we’re going to do with our lives. I will be quite thankful actually when you’ve gone back to England. Any more chaos around here could be quite difficult to contend with.’
‘Rosie, I’m really sick of being blamed for our parents’ decision.’
‘If you hadn’t come out here with the grandson in tow.’
‘Don’t you dare, Milo has nothing to do with this. We have nothing to do with this. It’s our father’s decision, which he has every right to make.’
‘Everyone seems to have rights except us. Damn you, Diana, I am so sick of this. Here I am, year after year, looking after Granny, but who gets to do the eulogy? Diana, of course.’
‘You were perfectly able to get up and say something if you wanted to. Rosie, this is not the time or place to be having this discussion.’
Diana suddenly realised her children, wide-eyed, were listening to every word. They hadn’t really seen her and Rosie go head to head before. Suddenly her mother was whisking the children away and asking Diana and Rosie to help take the empty cups into the kitchen.
Diana followed Rosie into the kitchen.
‘I’ve had it, up to the neck,’ she said. ‘How dare you talk like that in front of the children. In front of the whole town. You can blame me all you like, you can take it out on me, but for pity’s sake, don’t do it in public.’
‘You don’t understand.’
‘Oh yes I do, welcome to the world of the eldest, Rosie. Things are expected of eldest children. Now it’s time you grew up. Stop crying over what you think you’re missing out on and thank the heavens for what you do have. But I am not going to take the flack any more. I have finished taking the blame for everything that goes wrong. We’re booking our flight back as soon as I can do it.’
Diana turned and walked out of the kitchen.
CHAPTER FORTY-SEVEN
Gospel Oak , London, July
Twenty-eight hours after leaving Sydney, Diana’s hand shook slightly as she inserted the key into the front door of 22 Torrington Row. She shepherded the kids and bags inside. They were all exhausted. It was nine o’clock in the morning and it promised to be a hot day. China-blue skies, 23 degrees. Inside it was cool. Janet and Bill had promised to air the house occasionally, so it wasn’t too stuffy. Bill had obviously been working in the garden. It looked beautiful, a riot of colour—pink roses and purple asters, the pastel hollyhocks towering at the back and the red geraniums in pots. She hadn’t told them yet they were coming back. One step at a time.
They all just stood there in the gloomy hall.
‘It feels different to what I thought.’ Milo stood uncertainly with his bag at his feet. The two girls clutched their little koalas Stella had given them at the airport.
‘We’re all tired. It will be better tomorrow. Let’s open some windows.’
They trooped into the sitting room with the jungle mural on the wall. Milo went straight for the remote. Sienna went to the telephone to ring Polly, Saskia was back to clinging to her hand or whatever part of her was free at the time.
‘Hey, bags first. We won’t unpack yet, just put them in your rooms.’
Diana struggled with the window sash, it was always sticky. She hefted it up. She and Saskia wandered into the other rooms, opening windows and pulling up blinds, Saskia holding a corner of her jacket.
Milo was right. It didn’t feel the same.
‘Can Polly come over?’ Sienna had the phone in her hand.
‘How about tomorrow? We all need a little down time.’
‘Okay.’ Sienna disappeared again.
Milo had picked up her bag and was struggling towards the stairs with it. Diana rushed to catch him. ‘No, no I can manage, thank you, just get yours.’ She ruffled his hair. She went on up to her bedroom, put the suitcase down at her feet and looked around. Charlie’s slippers were tumbled on the floor, his dressing gown still on the hook behind the door.
Well, what had she achieved by her headlong rush across the world?
Things were better now between her mother and herself. But Rosie?
No. Rosie hadn’t come to say goodbye.
Patrick? No, she couldn’t think about Patrick.
She turned. Saskia stood at the door, still clutching the little grey and white koala.
‘Mummy?’ Her honey eyes were brimming with tears.
‘Hello,’ she said softly and picked up the round, warm body and held her, as her arms tightened around her neck and her head rested on her shoulder.
She was so lucky to have three such beautiful children.
You fool, Charlie, to be missing out on this, holding your kids, watching them grow.
But he wasn’t answering her today. She blew some curls away from her mouth. ‘Everything’s going to be okay, little one. Just you see.’
‘I want Daddy,’ Saskia whispered.
‘I know, darling, but Daddy’s not here anymore, not in a way we can touch him. But I have an idea. Let’s get your book out that Megan gave you and do another Daddy story.’ She put her down and they descended the stairs slowly, hand in hand.
‘Let’s look for some pictures of Daddy. How about that time we went to the castle and he pretended he was a ghost? Remember, and he chased you all round and round and knocked over that suit of armour and it made such a noise!’
Saskia stopped on the step and looked up at her. ‘You said that wasn’t funny, didn’t you, Mummy. And the lady came and got cross at Daddy.’
‘Yes, that’s the time.’ But she couldn’t help laughing at Charlie as he picked up the pieces of armour and tried to stick them back together, the children open-mouthed with horror and the very cross-faced guide. ‘And isn’t there a picture of Daddy trying to be a snowman?’
That had been funny. The kids had come rushing in one snowy day saying to come and look at their snowman. They’d packed snow around him; put a carrot in his mouth and a cap on his head. Why he hadn’t frozen to death … Diana swallowed. Then just two months later he was dead. He shouldn’t be dead. And maybe he wouldn’t be if she hadn’t said for him to leave. Here she was, standing at the foot of the stairs, just where she’d told him to grow up.
Get out … Get out … Get out! she’d shouted at him.
That’s what she had to live with for the rest of her life. She couldn’t forgive him for leaving her, let alone ever forgive herself.
* * *
Diana’s eyes flew open. Slowly she registered the familiar chairs in Gospel Oak. The weird jungle mural on the wall. She must have fallen asleep. What was the time?
Stretching out her arms and yawning, she suddenly remembered another fight. There’d been heaps of them.
The little pair of black undies definitely weren’t hers.
Or Sienna’s.
She’d pulled them out from where they’d been stuffed down the back of the sofa cushions. Whose were they? When had they been dropped behind the cushions? She frowned. Who’d been babysitting lately? Ah, Toni, a girl from one of the neighbouring houses down the street. Maybe she’d had a friend over? That was only a couple of weeks ago.
‘Look at this?’ She waved them in front of Charlie’s face. Which turned an interesting brick red in front of her eyes. ‘Look what I found.’
‘What, where did you find them?’
‘Down the back of the sofa. Pretty, aren’t they? I think they’re Toni’s.’
She’d been so naive.
&nbs
p; * * *
The kids were long asleep. Putting off her bedtime any longer was ridiculous. Diana made her way slowly up to their bedroom. Her bedroom. One look at the bed had her turning around and continuing upstairs. She’d never asked Toni if they were hers.
You’re not going to do this to me, Charlie, not any more.
Funnily enough he didn’t answer.
She sat at her wheel. For the first time she felt free of the depression. She got up and took out some clay she’d left in the fridge and removed the plastic. Slopped some water on it. Banged it down on her table. Banged it some more. More water, more banging. This felt good. It started to soften under her hands. With the rhythm and the familiar motion, the clay started to shift and mould under her fingers. More water.
Do you see Charlie? I can and I will.
Thumped and shaped, faster and faster. One hand behind her she switched on the wheel.
And in an instant the clay was fixed and the wheel spinning and the water flying.
She took a deep breath.
She could do this.
* * *
It was two weeks later that Diana attacked Charlie’s belongings.
‘There that’s done.’ Hands on her hips, she stood in her bedroom, balancing a pair of old sheepskin slippers on top of the box she was giving away to the Salvos. A couple of things she’d kept—his Arsenal jumper, and the soft blue cambric shirt she’d bought him ages ago that she’d always loved him wearing. She’d use that for work.
There, that wasn’t so bad. The first thing on her list of things to do when she got back was done. The second may be a little harder.
Diana registered the knocking at the door. She really wasn’t in the mood for visitors. Let them knock away.
Milo was second on the list. She had to smile as she remembered how he’d taken over at the airport and struggled to pull their entire luggage off the carousel. She would have to be careful she didn’t lump too much responsibility on him. He was nearly eleven, but he was still a child.
Now there were only Charlie’s art things. She looked despondently up the stairs. The knocking had started again and she stood in two minds about whether to go up to the studio or down to the door and give whoever it was a piece of her mind.
She didn’t want to talk to anyone today. She wanted to get this done and have it all away before the kids came back at three-thirty.
The knocking was getting louder. Whoever it was wasn’t going away.
Diana ran down the stairs and threw open the door, ready to tell the rude person to get lost, and stared blankly at the man on her doorstep.
‘Johann!’ She squealed and threw herself into his arms.
‘Hey, steady on.’ Johann, laughing, gave her a huge bear hug.
‘I don’t believe it. I haven’t seen you for twenty years. How did you know where I live?
‘Megan told me.’ He stood there grinning back at her.
She pulled him in the door. She was so pleased to see him, and stepped back to look him over. Just the same Johann—black hair, silvered now, still long and pulled back in a ponytail; twinkling blue eyes with long lashes that she and Megan had always said were totally wasted on a man; his face tanned and healthy.
‘This is wonderful. Was that you knocking before?’
‘Mmm. Your phone’s not working. I had to ring Megan to make sure I had the right place and she said to keep knocking.’
‘Oh I’m sorry, the battery’s flat. What are you doing in London?’
‘Taking you out to lunch. Get your coat.’
Diana suddenly remembered she was in her working clothes.
‘I can’t go out like this. Give me a minute. Just sit there, I’ll be back in a sec.’ She raced to her bedroom to find something half decent to wear. Anything clean … not much evidence of that, she thought, looking round the trail of her clothes that littered the floor, chair and bed. One thing she hadn’t had to think of lately was clothes. Any old thing did for potting and gardening, and let’s face it, she hadn’t been doing much of anything else in the two weeks since they’d come back from Australia. Work, feeding the kids and getting them to holiday care, followed by more work—that had been about the sum of it. She spied her jeans at the bottom of the pile and grabbed a black T-shirt and a rather snazzy wide belt. She found a loose muslin top to go over it all and some red beads. This was so amazing, to be seeing Johann again, she could hardly believe it.
‘You were quick,’ said Johann. ‘A definite improvement, I must say.’
He was seriously looking her up and down. Diana had to smile.
‘You’ve lost weight, the beads are a good colour.’
She and Megs had learnt to value Johann’s compliments. He always knew what looked good.
He proffered his arm. ‘Where’s the nearest pub?’
They walked out the door and Johann opened the gate for Diana. At her nod they turned right. ‘I spoke to Megs last week. She said you and the kids had been to see her and that you were back here.’
‘Megan is a good friend. I need to keep up with her, with you both. Let’s not let go again.’
‘That’s exactly what we were saying.’
They were outside the pub. Johann smiled and held the door open for her. ‘Sit, and I’ll get you a beer.’
Diana found a table, and smiled at the burly owner, with the long white curls, following Johann with menus in his hand.
‘I recommend the Ploughman’s lunch, best in London,’ said Diana. ‘Bart, this is a friend of mine from Australia, Johann.’
‘What’s this, eh, best in London? You’d have to go a fair way before you get a Ploughman’s to top it anywhere.’
‘You’re right. What am I thinking? How are you going, Bart?’
‘All the better for seeing you, me darlin’. I haven’t seen you for a while. Heard you’d gone back to Australia.’
‘We got back last month.’
Diana watched his retreating back and turned to Johann. ‘I feel so awful I never tried to contact you. I mean, I didn’t hear about Paul for some time after he died. I wrote, but I couldn’t find out where to send it. I’m so sorry. We all loved him so much.’
‘Don’t worry about it. I pretty much went into my shell. I travelled a lot before I looked up Megs again. When I heard about Charlie I wanted to see you. I emailed you and found out you were back in Australia. Sorry’s a terrible word. Let’s wipe it out. Why did you come back, Diana?’
She looked down at her pint of bitter, put her finger in the slight head on the top, swirled it around and tasted it. ‘You’ve been talking to Megan.’
Johann waited patiently, looking at her through those long sooty lashes.
Diana gave a shaky sigh. ‘Work. Sebastian was going crazy, I’ve got an exhibition in September. The kids wanted to come back. I’m not all that clear on it now. It seemed to be the right thing to do at the time. To find myself or to lose myself, it’s all a bit the same.’
‘That’s a negative approach. Back to the bottom line, Diana, why did you come back?’
She took a drink, fiddled with the coaster. ‘I don’t know. I was confused. Things at home were messy. Going back home is never what you think it’s going to be, is it? I met this guy, Patrick, who was pushing me a little too hard. I don’t know.’ She rubbed her temples with both hands.
Johann reached over and pulled her hands away. ‘It’s never easy thinking you can start again, but you should. At least give it a go.’
‘You don’t know the half of it, Johann. You were with Paul all the time, all those years. You got to say goodbye, and I love you.’
‘Yeah, we got to say it a lot. But at the end it was the same—you were never going to get to say it again.’
They were both quiet for a minute and Johann reached out and took Diana’s hand in both of his. ‘The worst part was feeling so guilty just for being alive.’
Diana remembered that night.
Charlie hadn’t come back for dinner so she was puttin
g it in the oven when she heard voices outside at the door—loud voices, singing and laughter. They weren’t only going to wake the kids, they’d be rousing the whole neighbourhood.
She walked quickly to the door and threw it open.
‘Ah, Diana, my beautiful wife.’ Charlie stood there, his arm draped around a young girl, waving his key at her. Six other people lounged against the wall or sat on the steps with wide smiles on their faces, clutching bottles and packets of chips.
‘Come in. Come in.’ He ushered them in waving expansively. ‘Tell Diana your names. I’ve just met these wonderful fellas down at the pub. And this gorgeous girl is Poppy. Meet my wife Diana.’
She stood in the hall as the others trooped past. Poppy—who couldn’t be twenty—disengaged herself from Charlie and stood looking embarrassed, like she didn’t know what to do now. She was obviously very surprised to find a wife at home.
Charlie had brought strange people home before, many, many times, but not a young girl who looked positively horrified to meet her. What had she been expecting?
‘Sorry,’ the girl said.
‘Sorry for what?’ Diana was trying not to feel sick.
‘I didn’t know, that is, Charlie didn’t tell me.’
‘What, that he’s married? Has three kids?’
‘No.’
‘Well, the others are in there.’ Diana pointed to the sitting room.
‘I think I have to go, could you tell Charlie.’ She turned for the door and quickly disappeared.
‘Where’s Poppy?’ Charlie ambled back into the hallway.
‘She’s gone. What was that all about?’
‘Damn you, Diana, I promised to show her my paintings.’ He grinned and tapped his nose. ‘You know.’ He wriggled his eyebrows and laughed. He was drunk.
‘I don’t understand.’
‘No, you don’t. Party pooper, that’s what you are.’
‘I think you’d better tell your friends to go home.’
‘No, you go and get Poppy to come back.’
Suddenly Diana had had enough. She walked to the doorway and flung it open. ‘Sorry everyone. There’s no party here tonight.’
