CHAPTER NINE
As she pushed the buggy back up the hill, she didn’t see a soul. Rivers of sweat drenched her back and she felt sick; today was apparently hot for October she’d been told at the shops. Why did she think this would be quick! She had dropped James off, parked the car at home and decided to take Andy on a ‘quick walk to the local shops’ for cakes – perhaps not a good idea when you’re three months pregnant. Turns out she had already been eight weeks’ pregnant when she fainted – which accounted for all her ups and downs, the nausea – and, she realised, staring down, her ever-expanding bust.
Hauling the buggy backwards inside the front door, and bumping over the threshold, she remembered that Ann would be round any moment. I really can’t be bothered making friends, she guiltily thought, making her way to the laundry room in the garden. Perhaps I’ll bullet point my best bits and hand them out on flyers in the supermarket? Short circuit the making of friends ritual. Hi M’am, please take my personality resume and let me know if it suits. She was thinking all this as she emptied the boys’ pocket and loaded the washing machine, humming to herself.
James’s contained: one stone, a pair of plastic tweezers, sand, 2 dead flies (minus legs), a crumpled Pokémon card.
In Andy’s: a crisp packet, 4 hairy insect legs, a British Airways pepper sachet.
I love my boys, she thought, smiling to herself. I really love them.
*
Ann was at the door, holding a baby bath and some soft cuddly toys inside it including a cornflower blue rabbit with fluffy ears. She had a lovely kind face, bright green eyes and a smattering of freckles across the bridge of her nose. In the bright sunlight Katie noticed sweat across her very fine blonde downy hairs across her cheek, as she leant over to get the baby bath. Ann stood at the doorway and looked backwards, ‘Steep steps!’ she said.
‘Yes, sorry,’ and Katie nodded. Ann was wearing a lilac flowy kaftan dress, with tiny beads embroidered into it, which glistened in the sun, and long, turquoise dangly earrings on either side of her messy blonde bob.
Walking past Katie and into the house, she smiled. ‘How are you?’
‘Yeah, tired,’ Katie sighed.
‘I think you’re doing very well, considering.’
What is she considering, thought Katie. Maybe she means ‘considering your house is a tip.’ Who knows, mused Katie, and frankly, I’m not sure I care.
Clicking the button on the kettle, Katie placed a Twining’s English Breakfast teabag in two bone china cups with cheery daffodils on the side. ‘Oh tea in the morning, how nice,’ said Ann, taking the cup from Katie.
‘Would you like coffee instead?’ Katie frowned.
‘No, you’re right. (Am I? How am I right … oh yes, she means alright …) I normally drink coffee at this time, but I’ll go along with it!’ laughed Ann. I am totally lost, thought Katie, in more ways than this.
‘My mum’s grandfather was from England,’ Ann offered.
‘Right,’ said Katie as she poured water over the teabags, wondering what to say next.
‘Mum said he used to like tea.’
‘Most English do,’ smiled Katie, handing her the cup. ‘Where did you grow up?’
‘Oh – miles from Sydney; we had a farm on the central coast – loads of chicken and sheep – couple of horses, I used to help out at a riding school. I love horses … I even did a bit of riding in Sydney when I first moved here,’ her eyes were shining. ‘We had a horse we kept in stables – but gave it up when I got pregnant,’ she looked down at the table.
‘Do you still ride?’
‘No. Gave it up when I had Ed – expected to have a lot more -’ she stopped mid-sentence. ‘Anyway - what about you, baby number three, eh?’ said Ann, staring pointedly at Katie’s rounded belly.
‘Yes. Sort of happened by accident, really,’ Katie laughed.
Katie could see Ann flinch, and wondered what she’d said wrong.
‘You’re lucky. You and your hubbie must be quite fertile -’
Katie stared at her. What an odd thing to say. ‘Well, I guess we are lucky, but sometimes, I’m not so sure!’ garbled Katie, waving at all the detritus of family life scattered around the room - life stuck to the fridge: Chinese take away menus, doctor’s phone numbers, photographs of the kids, shopping lists. Laundry baskets overflowing. A Bob the Builder towel draped over the back of the radiator, wet from James’s swimming lesson.
She looked over to Ann who was sitting at the table by then; she couldn’t help but notice a gloomy look in her eyes when she tried to smile at Katie.
‘Sorry Ann, have I said something wrong?’ Katie pulled a chair out and sat next to her, placed the cup of tea down and watched as Ann managed a smile.
‘Oh, no, don’t worry darl, it’s OK, just a bit of a sore point between me and Paul at the moment.’
‘You want more kids and he doesn’t?’ Katie ventured.
‘No – we both do.’ Ann turned to look at Katie, her eyes wide. She twisted her tea cup around. ‘We don’t seem be able to have any more … long story. Anyway, how you finding it here?’ she smiled broadly at Katie.
Katie sniffed, unsure quite what to say. A confession to feeling isolated in a foreign country and unsure you wanted the baby you were carrying wouldn’t really be the best ice-breaker right now, she decided. Luckily, Andy appeared with toilet paper draped around his arm to distract them.
‘Mum, mum, help!’
‘Sorry, Ann,’ Katie went upstairs to help Andy. ‘There you go, all done,’ she said in a pseudo cheery voice. She counselled herself on the way down the stairs, C’mon girl, New Friends. You can do it … Deep breath, … only two years … A-choo! As she got to the last step, Ann was standing there and shot Katie an odd look.
‘Oh! Just chatting to myself – reminding myself to squeeze my pelvic floor with every step downstairs,’ said Katie, smiling a little too hard. ‘The sneezing doesn’t help!’
On the bottom step, the rampant plastic animals were still engaged with each other and she raised her eyebrows at them.
‘A little less of that and my pelvic floor wouldn’t be so bad!’ grinned Katie.
They both burst out laughing. I like her, thought Katie, as she smiled at her new ally in her new, quirky country. I really like her.
*
‘Well, I wouldn’t if I were you, sweetie.’
‘Well, you’re not, are you?’ Katie had wanted to say, but she bit her lip, looked at her smug male doctor, with his ordered desk and files and Aussie Rules ‘footie’ pictures on the wall; his pictures of his dog, his wife, his – let me look again, thought Katie, bloody horse - and his I’ve-sired-four children, of his obvious maleness all around him. You’re NOT me, you’re NOT pregnant, you didn’t nearly shag your best friend’s husband in a fit of hormones and you’re not awash with oestrogen which makes you acutely homesick and gives you piles. He is so Australian, Katie almost expected him to stand up and start singing the national anthem, Advance Australia Fair. She had taken herself off to the doctor’s after Ann had left before her hay fever became any worse. She had an appointment at a children’s nursery later on and didn’t want to sneeze all over the staff.
‘Katie?’ His voice went up at the end. He had dark hair greying at the temples, piercing blue eyes and was clearly a bit of a looker in his day.
‘Sorry, miles away,’ she glanced back at him from looking at his ego wall. Do UK doctors have pictures of their cattle on their surgery walls?
‘I was just saying that if I were you, Katie, I’d not take any anti-histamine.’ He looked at her and smiled patronisingly. She felt like casually knocking over her urine sample as she reached for a tissue on his desk.
Her British upbringing came to the rescue. Sitting back down, she glanced at her sparkly turquoise flip flops with tiny sea shells. She took a deep breath. Although she wanted to say ‘Just pass me the anti-sneezing stuff, the referral to the psycho guy and let’s be done with it,’ she found herself saying, ‘Ok
’. There was that smile again. Move your lips - hold.
*
‘Coffee please,’ Katie sighed, then smiled to the bloke behind the coffee machine at the café. She breathed in the delicious smell of bacon and warm toast. Behind the counter was an array of fresh wraps, delicate pastries, translucent Vietnamese rice paper rolls covering plump, pink prawns, fresh soup; she could smell the aroma of cloves and noticed the slices of shiny pink ham off the bone. Coffee Guy looks nice, thought Katie. There were no pictures of his family, horses or dogs in the background.
‘Cappuccino, flat white, long black, macchiato, mocha, latte, chai latte, darl?’ He pointed to the blackboard behind him.
OK, think, think. She looked up at the blackboard, the writing was terrible. Cappuccino was the only coffee-related word she confidently recognised so she ordered that, decaf. (What is a Chair Latte?). Coffee Guy brought it over to her along with some biscuits for Andy, who was perched on her lap.
Her phone buzzed in her pocket. She scrolled down to the new text message.
‘Hi. Morning tea set for next Tues at Clontarf Park next to sailing club. Meet some of the girls! 10am. Ann.xx’
How sweet, Ann is organising a get together, she’s really being a mate. She drained her coffee cup and wiped Andy’s mouth. Then she tried to get up from the extremely deep, comfy sofa in the coffee shop.
‘Mummy’s stuck!’ he squealed delightedly. A few of the customers turned to stare at her.
‘Need some help?’ Coffee Guy was offering her his hand.
Yes I do. I need to find a kindergarten, an unpatronizing doctor, a decent hairdresser and possibly a therapist because you look like a teensy bit like Adam who I am trying to forget and my husband and I slept with our backs against each other again last night. ‘That would be nice,’ she smiled. Coffee Guy took her hand gently and with the other he held it under her elbow and helped her up from the sofa.
‘Little Giants Nursery, do you know where that is?’ Coffee Guy scratched his head and said he wasn’t sure, didn’t think he’d noticed anywhere around here that sold plants.
Plants?
‘I’m looking for a nursery. For my four year old,’ she smiled, nodded at Andy.
‘Ah, you mean a kindy!’
‘No. That’s the first year of school, isn’t it? Look, don’t worry,’ she said, quickly yanking at Andy’s hand. She was already 10 minutes late. Nice guy, but plants?
In the car, Andy looked up at her beseechingly as she tried to strap him into his car seat. ‘Mummy? Mummy wait!’
‘Yes darling! What is it, we’re late.’
‘Do you know that I have two willies?’
Katie stared at her son and wondered if there was an invisible gas around which was making everyone a bit stupid – including her son.
‘No you don’t darling, you have one.’
‘No, see? Mummy, look! James showed me!’ She stared as he yanked down his Spiderman pants and pulled back his foreskin.
When Katie finally arrived, she was greeted by a big whoop. ‘Get lost, did ya?’ A woman who looked like a female version of Rod Stewart appeared at the door. She was in her 60s, with bright pink lipstick and a shock of blonde cropped hair. She was smiling at Katie, her gold-hooped earrings dangling jauntily from each ear.
Yes, somewhere around the morning tea, everyone telling me I’m right, attempting to buy a hoover and people calling me darl, thought Katie, protectively putting a hand over her belly.
‘Well, I just asked the chap at the coffee shop where a nursery was and he said he didn’t know anywhere round here that sold plants!’
Snorts of laughter from Rod Stewart. Have I said something funny?
‘Nurseries are where we buy slug pellets, sweetie. I’m Carol by the way,’ grinned the owner, who held out her hand, then knelt down and said hello to Andy who beamed at her instantly.
She showed Katie round a slightly messy nursery; it was light years away from the quiet London Montessori nursery James used to go to. Why were the children so noisy?
‘We have a great system here,’ explained Carol. ‘Let the kids direct the day, you know? Some want to paint, some read. We just guide them,’ she laughed, and Katie noticed some gold fillings in the back of her mouth. Katie raised her eyebrows. ‘Right, I see.’
‘Just had a family go back to America, darl, so there’s a space if ya want it.’
Does Andy want to come here every day and rush around like a lunatic? Will Andy thrive? Will he learn anything other than how to clean out a rabbit’s cage with that awful woman? Possibly not, but we can just about afford this place if I sell some more jewellery and he’ll be happy, mused Katie, as a boy whizzed past her making aeroplane zooming noises with his arms outstretched. It will do till we get home.
CHAPTER TEN
The sky was totally blue. Katie looked up. There is not one cloud in the sky, thought Katie, as she let her gaze go from the heavens to the horizon. She was sitting on a tartan picnic rug watching Andy play in the park, a backdrop of sailing boats, a yacht club and a couple of divers who had just strolled into the sea, air tanks clanking on their backs, into a marine wonderland. It was mid-October – too hot for her to sit directly in the sun. To achieve this kind of panorama and weather living in London would mean a five hour flight, she realised, followed by a lengthy bus trip, a Turkish phrase book and a very good holiday rep. This place is 10 minutes from my house. It’s beautiful, she thought pulling her sunglasses down over her eyes.
Ann was next to her setting out some neatly cut sandwiches, a cake and huge watermelon slices. Ann looked like she had been a bit of a hippy in her time: she was wearing a denim skirt with a cheesecloth top, which had small pink and yellow flowers embroidered on the side. Her hair lifted in the breeze as she smoothed it down and looked towards the kiosk. She glanced at Katie and smiled.
A few of the other mums from James’ class turned up carrying Tupperware bursting with sandwiches, medleys of fresh fruit, fairy bread, cupcakes. Katie watched, as if surveying a scene from a movie: sundresses flapping, picnic rugs came out, crisps packets were opened, noses wiped, sun cream on, hats pulled over heads. Oh how lovely, delicious coffee over there, great; brought some fairy bread for the littlies, isn’t it beautiful?
How are you finding it? She smiled politely and said all the right things. Oh you know, husband offered a job, great lifestyle, fantastic for the kids, isn’t it? She didn’t mention how broke they were, how she missed stupid things like British weather presenters, about how she was terrified of spiders. She told them the Hoover story – it was much better to tell them that than say you think your marriage is on shaky ground.
Ann’s blonde bob was blowing in the breeze; she had a tiny pink hairgrip holding a wisp of hair off her face. As her hand went up to touch the clasp, Katie noticed a red mark on her wrist.
‘Ooh. That looks sore?’ Katie nodded at it.
Ann quickly held it with her other hand. ‘It’s nothing. Burnt it on the stupid oven,’ she smiled.
‘Sorry if I said the wrong thing last week,’ Katie said, leaning in towards her on the rug.
Ann tucked her bare feet under her legs and shrugged at Katie. ‘Every second woman around here seems to be pregnant,’ she rolled her eyes and nodded over to a group of pregnant women chatting by the swings.
‘I’ve just bought some kits,’ she continued, ‘to try and help Paul and I along. She opened up her velvet bag to show Katie what was in inside. A bundle of ‘Aussie Ovulation Kits’ were poking out the bag. Katie nodded her head enthusiastically. ‘Excellent!’ She wasn’t sure quite what else to say.
‘My doctor says it’s pretty accurate, pinpoints exactly when Paul and I should, you know …’ she smiled at Katie and her whole face lit up.
‘Good luck!’ Katie touched Ann’s hand as Ann smoothed her cheesecloth smock down and leaned over to a tray of cupcakes. ‘Iced these with Ed last night,’ she smiled, picked them up and handed the tray to Katie. ‘They’re a bit of a mess, b
ut we had fun!’
Ed was in James’ class, her one and only boy. Short, with straight dark hair and a cheeky grin. James and he had become quite friendly; James told Katie that they played ‘footie’ together at lunch times.
‘Ed and James are playing football together, at school,’ Katie smiled at Ann. ‘James and his dad follow Arsenal back home.’
‘Darl, AFL is footie, not soccer.’
‘Football isn’t soccer?
‘No, it’s footie,’ said one of the mums, laughing, smearing cream on her two year old.
My whole comfort zone has vanished, mused Katie, as she rummaged in her bag for sun cream. Quite soon I may fall flat on my face and into the doctor’s surgery asking for Prozac as well as a pelvic floor examination.
‘Hey, sweetie, we’re having a BBQ next week,’ smiled one of the mums, as if reading her mind. ‘I’m Naomi,’ she flashed Katie a very white smile. ‘Come along, you and your hubbie, and kids! We can teach you all the Aussie you need!’
‘Mummy?’
All the women turned to look at Andy. Oh God no. Please don’t tell everyone here you have two willies.
‘Yes dear?’
‘Star-fish down by the water, come see.’ Katie breathed out a sigh of relief and took his hand. She let him lead her to the little creature, a tiny starfish delicate in its symmetry. Wow. One minute a Tuesday morning was a Sainsbury’s shop, next minute it’s starfish by the sea, she smiled as she looked around her new world, admiring the view.
*
Crouching next to the principal’s office a week later, Katie watched as her youngest son squatted in the bushes; she rummaged in her bag for a tissue.
She heard someone come rushing up behind her; she glanced round. Oh no, it’s Glamour Mum, sighed Katie inwardly.
‘Need anything?’ Naomi stood there and smiled down at Katie.
‘Full time nanny and a Lotto win would be nice, but I’ll make do with baby wipes.’ Katie grinned. ‘He couldn’t wait!’
Jacaranda Wife Page 7