Jacaranda Wife

by Smith, Kendra

  ‘Excellent choice madam.’

  As he walked away she couldn’t help herself, she felt in such a tizzy tonight. The call from Lucy and Adam had really thrown her. ‘Sorry, no,’ she shouted, holding up her hands, as Tom stared at her in disbelief. ‘I’ll have the lemon sole – with the garlic butter on the side.’ She clasped her hands together and looked round the table at her audience. She really wished she could knock back a double vodka right now.

  ‘So have you found a Kindy for Andy yet?’ It was Naomi, who smiled pleasantly. Naomi’s sheer purple blouse was allowing all the diners to play peek-a-boo with her bra, partly concealing breasts that have surely had some structural support, thought Katie frowning. Tom looked round, gave Naomi a winning smile. Well, at least my feet look elegant, thought Katie, as she stuck one foot to the side, twisted her ankle around and admired her verdant footwear. She clutched her orange beaded necklace, as she noticed that most of the women were adorned in diamonds, glistening from some part of their body.

  ‘Katie?’

  ‘Sorry, yes, the first one I went to was basically masquerading as a kindy, but really it was a mini zoo!’ laughed Katie, reaching for a crostini as she pulled down her top, and jutted out her pregnancy rack defiantly. Everyone laughed politely, while she had the uneasy feeling she was missing something.

  As she came back from the bathroom, she saw Naomi squeeze Tom’s forearm and laugh. She was surprised by how much it annoyed her.

  ‘Did someone say something funny?’ Katie stared at Naomi. Keep your hands off my husband.

  ‘No,’ smiled Naomi, ‘we were just talking about the language differences; Tom didn’t know what a chook was!’

  ‘And?’ Katie politely waited.

  ‘It’s a chicken, darling,’ smiled Ann. ‘And it’s also a term of endearment,’ she added.

  What a strange language! Katie smiled at the two women.

  ‘So how’s your pregnancy?’ Naomi was staring at her stomach. ‘Going private?’

  ‘Well no, actually, my other two boys were happily delivered courtesy of the UK’s NHS, so why not here?’

  ‘Not private? Oh, you should go private, darl, shouldn’t she, Andrew?’ she said loudly to her husband across the table who nodded.

  ‘Andrew’s a top gynae, one of Sydney’s best.’ She beamed across at him. ‘It’s great – he develops all these lovely relationships with his clients.’

  ‘Well, I don’t really know if I want an obstetrician you could share dinner with, who would attend your child’s christening - and who viewed your fanny every few weeks.’ She beamed at Naomi.

  Tom’s eyes were saucer-wide she noticed, but she turned round and caught Ann’s eye. ‘You look a bit tired Katie.’ Ann leant in towards her.

  ‘I am. Very,’ murmured Katie, closing her eyes.

  ‘Felt the baby move yet?’ Ann’s voice was neutral, like she was asking about dishwasher tablets. Katie tilted her head and looked at her, then remembered.

  ‘Any luck with – you know?’ Katie raised her eyebrows and smiled at Ann.

  ‘No.’ Ann was shaking her head. She could see Ann’s eyes filling with tears. Oh God, not in here, thought Katie. She reached over and squeezed her arm, mouthed ‘sorry’ to her.

  The men talked about up-coming work projects, Naomi, Ann and Katie bobbed along in the safe waters of stories about the kids – not that Naomi would remember how to fold and unfold a Mammas and Pappas buggy any more whilst trying to chant the two times table, thought Katie. She’s moved on from the trenches of motherhood by the looks of it. Then she noticed a bit of glitter glue still on her arm from making pictures with the boys earlier for Gramps and as she glanced down to rub it off, discovered pieces of crostini in her cleavage. She fished a bit out and absently ate it – very garlicky. As she looked up she could see Tom staring at her, wide-eyed. She flashed him a smile.

  Naomi was picking the pastry off her asparagus flan; telling the table about a holiday she and Andrew had gone on recently. Byron Bay, up north, ‘slightly hippy’ she said. As she spoke, Katie watched her mouth, took in the whole package: she really is pure Aussie babe, thought Katie, sleek tanned legs, encased in white cropped trousers, perfectly manicured nails and a cleavage to die for – no wonder Tom can’t stop staring at her.

  ‘Hey how are you enjoying it here then, Katie?’ she said, twiddling her enormous diamond pendant around on her finger, splitting the light from the candle into tiny multi-coloured beams.

  ‘Oh, it’s great,’ Katie forced a smile, clutched her orange beads, just as she noticed Ann and Paul were head-to-head in a discussion at the table.

  She couldn’t stop staring at Paul, noticing the hair gel, the chest hairs visible in his pale pink open neck shirt. The sunglasses on top of his head, even thought it was dark outside.

  ‘Try the duck, darling. Harry’s ordered it. One of their signature dishes.’

  ‘I’m fine,’ Ann smiled at her husband, who seemed quite agitated. ‘Always had a bit of a problem with duck. Images of feathered friends too strong!’ she laughed at her fellow diners.

  ‘No really, go on, try it, it’s a lovely starter.’

  ‘Paul, I’m fine, thanks,’ she laughed nervously.

  Katie turned round to look at them.

  She could just make out what Paul was saying. ‘Try the fucking duck,’ he whispered. Ann sat bolt upright in her seat. He held it next to her lips on the fork. She opened her mouth and allowed him to slide the slippery meat into it. Katie could see Ann nearly gag.

  ‘So, Kath,’ Harry turned his attention to Katie for the first time that evening. ‘Tom here is doing an amazing job,’ he said filling up everyone’s glass. ‘He’s bailed us out when my partner followed his, ahem, heart and went off to Woop.’

  ‘Oh, gosh, where’s Woop?’ Katie said, confused, leaning into the table. ‘Never heard of it.’

  ‘‘Woop’ means middle of nowhere, sweetie,’ smiled Naomi. Katie studied her cleavage and pulled her shoulders back. She looked around, women were in Prada, Colette Dinnigan and staggeringly high heels. Men were in open neck shirts, waves of expensive smelling aftershave wafted past the table each time a party of diners walked by. I am in Marks and Spencer stretchy black and proud of it, thought Katie. Actually, who am I kidding? I don’t look the part, and I certainly don’t understand what people are saying to me. All I want to do is curl up in the foetal position somewhere quiet ...

  ‘That’s right,’ continued Harry. ‘Met her online, took quite a gamble. We were in the middle of bidding -,’ Harry said loudly, wiping his mouth with his napkin, ‘and then he left us in the shit - sorry,’ he glanced over at women. ‘Hiring Tom meant we could compete with the big players again and put a bid in for a multi-million dollar roll-out in Jakarta, be confident we could do it. And ...’ he paused to make sure everyone at the table was looking at him, ‘we won it.’

  Tom nearly fell off his seat, ‘Did we?’

  ‘Yes, Tom-o, and it’s thanks to you,’ said Harry slapping Tom on the back.

  ‘In fact, as of today, I wanted to celebrate with you and Kath here – and your mates - he said raising his glass, and say thank you - we’ve made your contract permanent. You’re now a full time senior partner at Trent Financial, Australasia.’

  Harry raised his glass and turned to Katie. ‘Oh, and happy birthday, Kath,’ he said, clinking his glass with her as her smile froze and her head started to spin. ‘And let’s look forward to a long relationship with you and Tom in Sydney. He’s told me how much you love it. Our last senior partner was with the firm for 10 years!’ he said with a flourish, downing his glass in one gulp.

  Ann caught Katie’s eye and raised her eyebrows. Katie scraped her chair back and stood up. Turning to Harry she said: ‘It’s Katie, actually, or Katherine if you like.’ Then she turned and walked slowly to the Ladies where she collapsed into a soft leather sofa. 10 years?

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  ‘Tom why didn’t you tell me you were in the runn
ing for being made a partner?’ she whispered. It was early in the morning and neither of them had slept well. The air con had broken and the ceiling fan was slowly going round and round in lazy circles, driving Katie crazy, as she chewed over their situation. She watched the light creeping in from behind the cream coloured blind; long bright fingers spread lazily, like tentacles, across the wall.

  ‘Because I didn’t know!’ Tom turned over and yanked his sheet away, ‘he’s given me some amazing opportunities here, Katie – not a patch on what I’d have got in the UK.’

  ‘But you can’t accept a permanent role, we said -’

  ‘We said we needed to get out of debt Katie,’ he sat up then, swung his legs out of bed and she watched as he walked to the bathroom in his navy blue boxer shorts, ‘but the cost of living is so high here, which is why I thought we could make a bit more money by ...’

  ‘By what?’

  He turned round towards her and sighed. ‘Look, doesn’t matter ... what matters is we try and clear our debts. This role means I have far more each month. There’s a lot of pressure on me, Katie.’

  She reached out for his hand. ‘And when do you think we’ll be out of debt?’

  ‘About two years,’ he said, wandering back to the bed and then heavily sitting down on it, clutching her fingers.

  ‘That’s good.’ She leaned over and squeezed his hand a bit more. ‘After that we can go home.’ She looked up to the ceiling so she didn’t have to catch his eye. Then she saw it.

  Up.

  There.

  On.

  The.

  Ceiling.

  ‘There!’ Katie was pointing upwards, shrieking. ‘A spider!’

  Tom jumped up. ‘I’ll get the spray from the kitchen.’

  ‘No!’ she yelled. ‘We need to kill it dead with a shoe or something. I read that.’ She put her head in her hands, ‘Oh God, the northern beaches are awash with them. The females live for two to three years and produce several thousand babies … each egg sac can contain up to 500 eggs …’ her voice was rising.

  ‘How do you know so much?’

  ‘Been on the Redback Alert website.’

  ‘Call the pest company, Katie, get them to spray the house.’ She turned to see Tom heading for the bathroom. ‘I’ve got to get to work. You go in the spare room.’

  Katie tiptoed into the spare room, sank into the bed and closed her eyes. When she opened them she looked out at the palm trees in next door’s garden, saw them swaying in the wind. There were dark storm clouds gathering on the horizon. There are menacing storm clouds gathering on my brain, she sighed. Life. Marriage. Babies. Spiders. Late for work. How come no one tells you on your Hen Night about the real meaning of relationships? You learn the rules of marriage after the wedding. Clap, my mother told me … only she didn’t, did she? She was too busy giving her credit card a work out in Dubai after Dad died in some weird post-traumatic holiday shopping disorder. And she certainly didn’t warn me about Redbacks – or about ‘friendly hugs’ with other women in shiny kitchens … She threw the sheets back and got out of bed.

  ‘Honey?’ She peered at Tom in the kitchen.

  ‘I wanted to ask you something about the other day - Naomi’s house …’

  ‘Not now darling,’ he hastily brushed past her and started to rummage in a basket on the kitchen surface. Marching around the room, he started to haul things out of drawers, swearing loudly, then he looked at his watch.

  ‘8 o’clock, Christ! I’ve got a meeting with Harry at 8.45. Where’s my Blackberry? Andy had it in his toy basket the other day! His toy basket! Can you believe it? This place is so untidy!’

  She bit her lip hard. ‘Tom! We don’t have any cleaners, like in London. Honestly, you know how broke we are …’

  ‘I know, I know, look, call the pest company, will you Katie,’ his voice softened. ‘I took another look at that website and they really are pretty dangerous – if it’s a Redback. Thank God we will be out of this dreadful rental place and into a new one soon. You are seeing one today, aren’t you? Will you call right away. Katie?’

  ‘Tom, I’m not deaf,’ she said, turning away and out of the kitchen and wandering towards the computer to get the pest company’s number, there was a bleep. New mail.

  To KatieParkes@optusnet

  From LucyHolmes@hottermail.com

  Saw the farmhouse yesterday – it’s divine! Even Adam loves it, says we can just about afford it. I can’t believe how lucky I am. We’ll have to take out a whopping mortgage. But it will be worth it! This place has eight acres and four stables. Can’t wait to leave London. The toilet in the car park opposite our house has somehow become the unofficial HQ for gays in the area. Honestly, it’s not right, especially as I’m now pregnant, somehow brings all sorts of feelings to the fore. How are you?

  Write with news. Lx

  Katie winced. Gays ‘not right’? She watched the cursor blink in front of her and studied the farmhouse pictures, the roses tumbling over the front door; she could almost smell the damp newly turned soil in the flowerbeds, apple trees, brickwork painted white … She’s stolen my dream. Yes, and you nearly stole a kiss with her husband … said a little whisper from her she-devil, just as she heard Tom slam the front door shut.

  She glanced at her watch, remembering that she had two rental house viewings back to back after the school run. She grappled with the zip on her maternity jeans, forcing it to budge but it wouldn’t. ‘Damn this thing.’ She reached for a safety pin to hold the two overstretched panels of denim together, grabbed one of Tom’s shirts and shoved it over the top. She glanced in the mirror. Hmm. The look was sort of About–to-do-Housework-cum-Lesbian-Casual. Too bad, I am seriously late, she thought.

  *

  She was back at the coffee shop. Blake smiled at her. ‘Hi there. What can I get you?’ His eyes crinkled at the edges when she smiled.

  ‘I’ll try a ‘chair’ latte …’ she leant in closer and whispered, ‘whatever that is! Your writing on the board is terrible!’

  He almost burnt his hand on the espresso machine and let out a chuckle. ‘You mean a Chai latte!’ He told her it was a special spiced tea mixed with warm milk and while he was talking she watched his toned, bronzed arms, admired how he effortlessly reached for cups, heated the milk, delicately shook chocolate onto a baby chino for Andy. The heady smell of spicy fresh coffee and warm milk filled the air.

  ‘So you teach kids - swimming was it?’ she scratched her head trying to remember what he’d said at Naomi’s BBQ.

  ‘I’m a qualified Surf Lifesaver – teach kids after school but I also run a dive and ocean swimming school for adults.’

  ‘Really, open water diving?’

  ‘That’s the one – tried it?’ Blake smiled.

  ‘I did a ‘try dive’ on my honeymoon and nearly scared myself stupid! Don’t think it’s for me,’ she said taking the coffee from him. ‘I’m not really a diving kind of gal – anyway since then … since kids …’ her eyes wandered round the coffee shop, a small boy in a blue checked cowboy shirt was having a hot chocolate with his mum. She pulled her mind back, tried to remember what the terms were for diving, BFD? DBD? All I can think of is BFG, Big Friendly Giant. What is it? Why is my mind filled with mush, mused Katie. ‘What’s that thing called? A BFG?’ Katie said, scratching her chin.

  ‘No! That’s Big Friendly Giant – read it to Ed last weekend! Funny girl - it’s a BCD,’ he said grinning, those wrinkles crinkling up beautifully.

  ‘I do run ocean swimming refresher courses for adults. Good way to get back in the water, you know, after the baby?’ he looked at her and shrugged.

  She nodded. ‘Maybe. Hey, does Naomi help you in here?’ She couldn’t imagine Naomi wearing a stripy apron and cleaning out mouldy cheese from the back of the fridge on her hands and knees.

  ‘Sometimes, if I’m really stuck,’ his eyes widened, ‘but she doesn’t want to get food under those gel fingernails! More a silent partner - doesn’t much like food, ac
tually,’ he said folding his arms across his chest. She was interrupted from her conversation with a call from another estate agent. Told her that he had found their ‘perfect’ house to rent. We’ll see.

  *

  James bounded up to her in the playground. ‘Mum! We’ve been given silkworms as pets, Mrs Perkins says we must look after them. Got to feed them every day. Can I keep them in my bedroom?’

  No flippin’ way. ‘Maybe.’

  She gingerly opened the lid of the cardboard box to view the new houseguests and peered inside. There, nestled between the mulberry leaves were fat, pudgy little worms with deep folds of skin wriggling around. Yeuch.

  ‘Lovely. Now keep the lid closed tight,’ she said firmly as she herded Andy and James into the car, placing the silk worms carefully under a school bag in the seat next to her so none could escape.

  On the way they stopped by the roadside so that James could pick some more mulberry leaves for his wriggly pets. As they pulled away, she was touched by how much care he was putting into his new friends. With that thought, she felt a tickle on her leg. Oh holy cow, have the bastards escaped?

  ‘Who made the first ant? Mum?’ little Andy was tapping her on the shoulder. ‘A mummy ant?’

  ‘What? Yes darling.’

  ‘No, it was Allah, Mum!’ James interrupted.

  Allah? (Note to self: review which religious class James in at school as yesterday in bath whispering to Andy that Allah owned all the world’s light sabres …)

  ‘Mum?’ Now it was Andy.

  ‘Yes, dear?’ the tickling got worse. She brushed her thigh, keeping her eyes on the roundabout ahead, but glanced at the box next to her and noticed air holes in the box. Damn, thought Katie, I think I have a silkworm wriggling up my thigh.

  ‘Mummy?’

  ‘Yes, Andy?’

  ‘If you kiss a girl on the lips for a long time, you’re married them, right?’

  ‘Sometimes darling.’

  ‘So is Daddy also marry to that lady?’

  Her eyes flew to the rear view mirror where she stared at her four year old grinning at her and covered in chocolate. Looking back at the road, she missed an oncoming car by inches.