Jacaranda Wife

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Jacaranda Wife Page 18

by Smith, Kendra


  A wave of determination flooded over her when she thought about Tom.

  I am going to start my ocean swimming course today, and I’m going to show anyone who happens to be looking – and especially my straying husband - that I have interests outside the home. This is what my marriage needed, she thought – maybe, just maybe I will phone Tom later.

  ‘Hi!’ Blake was waving at her as she approached the sea pool.

  ‘You right?

  ‘Yeah, fine,’ she replied, trying to act nonchalantly, staring at Blake, who was silhouetted against the turquoise sea, standing on top of the rocks, checking everyone was there. He looks like Adonis, thought Katie. She found it hard to take her eyes off him: glorious in his wet-through trunks. He’s been in the water already, judging from his hair slicked back by his sunglasses, and the tiny rivers of water trickling down his midriff. Katie suddenly shook her head and looked down at her badly chipped toenails.

  ‘Pretty cold, eh?’ It was Blake right next to her, staring at her nipples.

  She immediately folded her arms across her chest and felt that familiar raspberry rash creep up her throat and face. ‘Yup, freezing!’ she grinned.

  ‘Hey how are you?’ Naomi came rushing up, her bronzed face framed by her purple snorkelling mask. She was glad Naomi had agreed to do the course with her. It was good to have some company. Good to be able to confide in Naomi – even if she did make Katie feel like Michelin Man in a canary cossie. ‘Hi bro,’ Naomi laughed, ruffling Blake’s hair and hopping from foot to foot in the cold.

  Naomi used to be a seasoned ocean swimmer in her college days apparently, but was happy to chum Katie, and might want to learn to dive. Katie couldn’t take her eyes off Naomi’s long, tanned legs in her swimsuit. She looked utterly the part – all Aussie surf lifesaver with an amazing cleavage peeking out of her costume. She doesn’t look like a hardboiled egg in a swimming hat with goggles, frowned Katie, doesn’t look like Eddy Izzard in a one-piece. Never mind. Be positive.

  ‘Yeah, great,’ Katie lied; her heart was pounding, but at the same time she felt exhilarated for the first time in years. Who would have thought a 30-something mother of three from land-locked London gets to swim in crystal clear waters five minutes from her house, just after the school run on a Thursday, she smiled?

  ‘Spoken to Ann lately?’ Naomi ventured looking at Katie sideways.

  ‘Nope,’ sniffed Katie. ‘She has texted a few times; quite insistent actually, but I don’t want to speak to her. What on earth can I say to her?’

  ‘I think she’ll call you soon,’ said Naomi, reaching for a towel.

  ‘Why?’

  Naomi didn’t have a chance to answer because there was a terrible screeching noise coming from the sea pool.

  ‘Jeeeezus! The water’s bloody freezing!’

  Katie looked around and recognised a familiar face. Oh no, thought Katie, it’s that dreadful woman, Carol, the Kindy manager. She was standing, in a fluorescent pink one piece, cut high up to her hip bones, with a flowery swimming hat, dipping her toe in the water. She looked like a bloke in drag.

  ‘You’re not going to get us to go in there, are you darl?’ She was beaming at Blake, who smiled back at her, kindly. ‘No, the sea,’ Blake replied, waving his hand out to the horizon. Carol then marched towards them, beaming at Katie.

  ‘Hello gorgeous! Didn’t know you Poms were up for a spot of sea swimming? Good on ya.’

  ‘Hi Carol,’ said Katie quietly, thinking about how this woman was going to ruin her adventure.

  There were six in the group altogether, Naomi, Katie, an American couple, Carol and Blake. Chris, a newly qualified dive instructor was going to shadow Blake, learn the ropes. He was in his early 20s, cropped blonde hair, almost white from the sun, toffee coloured eyes and a cheeky grin.

  Katie looked at the sea. It looked terrifying. Today’s aim, Blake told them, was to swim out in real sea conditions, to a red buoy – only 50 metres - then back in again. He assured them it was to be good training for when they started to dive. It shouldn’t be hard, he reassured them.

  ‘I’ve watched a zillion tourists do this!’ Katie whispered to Naomi, who looked at her sideways. ‘If they can do it, so can I!’ She felt renewed, up for anything at today. Brilliant – her confidence was coming back.

  ‘Well, just be careful, hun, OK? It’s not the Med, you know.’

  ‘Pah!’ grinned Katie, then smiled at her lovely friend. Blake appeared, ‘All right girls?’

  Carol laughed and looked Blake up and down: ‘Yes, you spunk, and you? Check him out, ladies!’

  Blake dropped his mask and hurried to pick it up, smiled at everyone. ‘OK guys?’ he was almost blushing. How sweet, thought Katie as he turned to her. ‘Yes, fine,’ she said, trying to appear chirpy, looking down at her costume and wishing once more that it wasn’t yellow, revealing her nipples, wished that she hadn’t hastily bought it online as it was the only one in her size. Katie tried to remember that the British won the war because of their spirit; their sense of can-do. Must muster up some can-do in that murky ocean, she thought, suddenly nervous. She looked around to see if anyone was looking at her. Carol caught her eye and gave her a wink.

  The waves were crashing around the rocks, as they reached the metal steps leading down to the sea. They were at Fairy Bower, a popular spot for snorkellers, a few divers. Katie looked down the silvery steps leading into the angry sea. The waves were hurling themselves onto the rocks, sending salty spray up the steps, showering over her legs, like someone had just flicked a hose at them.

  As Carol slowly descended into the water, bit by bit, she let out a scream. ‘Water’s shrivel-your-bollocks freezing!’ she yelled up at Naomi. Naomi smiled down, ‘Get used to it, hun!’

  Stupid woman, thought Katie, I’m sure it’s fine. She looked out at the snorkellers in the bay and a few divers who had come up for air, bobbing around beyond the rocks, making it look picture postcard perfect.

  ‘Loads of snorkellers, aren’t there?’ she shouted to Blake, above the crash of the waves.

  ‘Yeah. Because of the sea life,’ he yelled down, nodding to the ocean. ‘It’s teeming down there - sharks too. Everyone wants to say they’ve seen a shark, don’t they?’ he smiled.

  Fuck me sideways. Sharks. Nobody said anything about sharks, thought Katie, terrified. She clutched the railing, unable to move. Blake saw her eyes widen through the goggles and shouted down, ‘Don’t worry, Katie. There haven’t been any fatalities in the waters around here for 17 years - just a few bites to arms and legs!’

  Her hand went up to her throat instinctively. She wasn’t sure if she could carry on. Where is the chap in the board shorts who is handing out those tickets to Aussie Life? Might just hand mine back.

  There was a hand on her shoulder, squeezing it. ‘It’s okay Katie, you’ll be safe, trust me.’

  As she looked up, she stared in Blake’s eyes and something made her stay even though her little devil was bouncing on her shoulder, having a great time: the sharks might realise sometime soon that there is an inexperienced English woman up here, fluffing around, here for the taking.

  Just as she was about to jump in, Blake’s hand was on her shoulder again.

  ‘But lose the watch, sweetie,’ he said.

  ‘Why?’

  ‘Because you don’t want the sun glinting on it, that does attract the sharks.’ He was serious then, no twinkle in his eyes. She handed him her watch as her heart pounded. He quickly tucked it into his neoprene arm belt.

  Katie edged into the water and started swimming slowly, practising her best schoolgirl breaststroke keeping her head valiantly out of the water like a swan. She looked across at Naomi who was confidently ploughing through the waves with front crawl, head down. I look and feel like my Aunty Jean taking a dip on the Costa Del Sol, thought Katie, as she realised Blake was swimming towards her.

  ‘Try and do freestyle, you’ll get through the waves better.’

  ‘Freestyle?’ she s
pluttered.

  ‘Front crawl. Watch your breathing. Do three strokes, reach your arms up to the sky, then take a breath.’ He was treading water in front of her, had pulled his mask above his head. Was smiling at her.

  She made very slow progress. As she inched nearer the red marker, she remembered her swimming lessons at the St Alban’s Leisure Centre as a schoolgirl. That water had about as much swell as a cup of tea, she thought, stretching her arm across her body, feeling exhausted. Waves thundered in her ears as the check-list in her head looped round: watch my breathing, try not to drown, keep my eyes shut because of fear of seeing sharks below, go in a straight line, don’t swim into the bluebottle jellyfish. (This will be very hard seeing as I’m keeping my eyes shut.) Stop thinking about Tom; stop thinking about Ann. Determinedly, she ploughed on towards the buoy. Suddenly she let out a yelp and took in a mouthful of water just as someone crashed into her.

  ‘Carol! What the hell -’ but before Katie could say anything else a wave crashed down on her; swallowing a huge amount of water, she gasped - and nearly choked, felt herself sinking. Blake stopped again and swam back towards her, held onto her arm and pulled her up to the surface. Thank God Blake’s here, she thought, pushing her mask off her face. I feel safe with him, stupid – but safe.

  ‘Why have you got your eyes shut, Katie? Hey, maybe you should practise in the sea pool first, what do you think, darl?’

  An excellent idea, thought Katie, relieved to finally grab hold onto the floating buoy. I think perhaps a 30-something mother of three from England with an unfaithful husband and a fragile temperament should not, possibly, be swimming in shark-infested waters in Australia. Perhaps what she ought to be doing is calmly unravelling her life to an experienced psychotherapist.

  *

  Later that day Katie wandered into the school playground to pick up James. She felt much better, her spirits had lifted – despite her terror - when she had finally swam in the ocean. She was amazed at just how hard it was, but determined to keep at it. Suddenly, not far from her she saw a silhouette she recognised.

  ‘Katie!’

  The one woman she didn’t want to see right now. Ann. She was yelling at her across the playground. What is she thinking? I never want to see her again, fumed Katie. But it was too late, she came rushing up to her as Katie turned her back. Katie flinched as she felt a hand on her shoulder and hunched up her shoulders, shook her off.

  ‘Hold on, I’m worried about you, you’ve lost weight, you look tired -’

  Katie spun around on her heel. ‘Worried about me. You have slept with my husband, that’s quite enough damage to inflict on your best friend, don’t you think?’ Katie hissed, trying to keep her voice down. Two young mothers were chatting under a shady gum tree, young babies in tow. They turned to stare.

  ‘But Katie -’ she tried to take her arm as Katie yanked off her hand.

  She watched Ann’s mouth move, the pale lip-gloss shimmering on her mouth: shiny, ‘kissable’… Katie watched her lips and was mesmerised by them, watched them move around her words. Wondered how those lips tasted to Tom, what those lips did to him. Did they move around his mouth, taste him all over? Had she worn lip-gloss then, too?

  ‘How dare you Ann. What the hell are you thinking?’ Katie could feel her heart hammering in her chest. ‘I don’t want to speak to you - I made that quite clear the last time you texted. If you feel bad, then so be it. I’m not going to be your therapist!’ Katie was livid with rage. Another group of mothers from James’ class wandered by, looked round at Katie and Ann, whispered to each other. They then joined the group under the tree. Katie was mortified. ‘And don’t approach me in the playground again,’ Katie stared at Ann, wide-eyed.

  ‘But we need to talk about -’

  ‘About nothing!’ whispered Katie, staring at Ann, wondering why she wanted to make things so difficult for her.

  Bloody cheek, Katie stormed across the school yard. Worried about me? Whatever she’s going to tell me, fizzed Katie, I really don’t care. I am just starting to rebuild my life - and possibly my marriage. How can she possibly make things any worse?

  CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

  Katie sat quietly reading on the couch, letting the boys watch cartoons before bed, something she normally forbade. But lately she’d been breaking quite a few of her own rules. It had been two weeks since her encounter with Ann in the playground. Ann had been leaving messages on her phone so much that she had changed her home number, avoided her at school as much as she could. After the last one, Katie had texted her curtly saying she would see her when she was ready – and not before.

  The air con was humming, providing a cocoon of cooler air inside the house. Rory was crawling around on the wooden floor. So far, he had pulled everything out of the laundry basket so clothes were strewn around the floor. Katie looked up. Must tidy that soon.

  As she carefully rested her book in her lap, she studied Rory lying on his back, grabbing his toes, putting them in his mouth and sucking them. Just as she was smiling about how cute he looked, the lights dimmed and they were plunged into four watt dinginess.

  She looked over at the boys on the other sofa, they were huddled up under a blanket, and she quickly scanned back to Rory – she could just make him out on the play mat.

  ‘Mummy, what happened?’ said James.

  ‘Must be a power surge, darling.’ She tried to say it lightly, tried not to let her voice wobble. ‘Lights should be back to normal soon.’ She tried to sound calm with James. He hated the dark, and God forbid he mentions the Fairy Bread Monster again, she sighed inwardly. He seems to be getting frightened a lot lately, she mused, getting up to look for a torch. But who can blame him? She realised that some of her tension must be rubbing off on the boys. She was always checking them, making sure they were safe, sitting bolt upright in the middle of the night, dashing to their room to see that they were still there. I suppose, she thought, that when you’ve been so badly betrayed by someone you love, you don’t want to lose any more loved ones.

  Just then she was jolted out of her thoughts as the whole room was plunged into total darkness and the air con clicked off.

  ‘I’m going upstairs to get a torch. Children, STAY HERE. James, you look for Rory and hold him still OK?’

  Coming back with a Star Wars Light Sabre, she flashed it around the room. She could feel the humidity build up.

  ‘Mummy, what’s happening?’ James’ voice had broken and she heard sobs.

  ‘Don’t worry. You need to be a big boy, it’s OK.’ she said calmly, looking for Rory in the dark. She flashed her beam around the room, and caught sight of Rory, crawling across the floor. Which way did he go? She could feel the panic rising inside her, like the foam in a champagne bottle.

  Suddenly James yelled.

  ‘What is it?’ she screeched, desperate for her eyes to become accustomed to the dark so she could see her children.

  ‘Mummy! Mummy!’

  She followed the beam of the torch, and spotted a hairy leg appearing from under the couch next to Rory. Slowly, the leg became a spider with a bright red stripe down its back, crawling across the floor.

  Katie nearly stopped breathing. Sweat was gathering around her hairline.

  I am going to sue the pest company.

  ‘A Redback! Quick, Oh my God, Rory!’ she couldn’t help it, but just as she said it, she made out Rory flipping onto his tummy in the shadows and reaching for the funny black thing crawling across the floor.

  She was almost paralysed by fear, but somehow kept still.

  ‘Where is he?’ she quietly said to James.

  ‘Rory’s there, Mummy,’ whispered James.

  ‘Mummy?’

  ‘Not now, Andy.’

  ‘But Mummy?

  ‘WHAT is it Andy?

  ‘Wee came,’ said the little voice as she cast her beam on the floor again and couldn’t see the spider, just a puddle. She began to shake. Sweet, sweet Jesus. I can’t cope with this, she thought, then to
ok a deep breath, realising that her legs felt like jelly.

  Suddenly, there was a howl. It was Rory. She fell to the floor, yelling for him. Where is he?

  ‘Mummy! By the curtains,’ shrieked James. The wailing was getting louder.

  Katie summoned up all her courage, reached down and scooped Rory up in her arms just as he let out another yell. Where the hell is the spider? Where the hell is Tom? She was crying, punching numbers into her phone, but her hands were sweaty and she dropped it. She picked it up again. ‘Blake? Yes, yes. It’s Katie. Can you meet me at hospital? Yes? No, Redback. Rory. I’ll explain there.’

  Yanking the handbrake off she screeched out of the driveway to the nearest hospital, her knuckles white on the steering wheel. Rory was in the car seat howling, his face ruddy with the crying. She glanced round quickly and could see the red welt swell up on his leg. Tears were rolling down her cheek as she narrowly missed a red light.

  The terror reminded her of an argument at home once. When she was ten years old, she had heard her mum and dad have a blazing row, scream at each other. They said it was the end of the family, they yelled about having the kids alternate weekends. She remembered that it all started with a stupid dinner plate her dad hadn’t washed up. Her blood had gone cold and hadn’t been able to shake the uneasy feeling for years, the uncertainty, how her whole world had shattered.

  This was worse. Rory was howling as she kept recalling the website, about exactly how Redback bites affect babies ... what did the website say about systematic envenoming?

  Screeching into the Emergency car park, Blake was standing in front of the hospital doors. He rushed up to her when they arrived.

  ‘You OK?’

  ‘Rory isn’t.’ She shook her head and wiped her eyes.

  Blake didn’t stop to ask any questions. He took Rory and flew through the hospital door and to the front desk. Katie came hurrying up behind him, James and Andy clutching her skirt.

 

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