by Anna Jacobs
‘Mum?’
‘Oh, it’s you, Katie.’
‘Mum, are you busy tonight?’
‘No, dear.’
‘Can I come round and see you, then? I have something to tell you.’
‘Of course you can, dear. It’s good news, I hope.’
‘Er, yes – well, sort of.’
‘Let their father put those young terrors of yours to bed. You can have your tea with me.’
As she put the phone down, Emily smiled at the thought of how surprised Katie would be when she saw the makeover and the new clothes. Then she picked up the magazine she had found at Beauty International. They’d been very nice about letting her take it away with her. She opened it at the back, where there were adverts for all sorts of things.
WANTED: SUPERIOR HOUSEKEEPERS
FOR TOP CLIENTS
EXCELLENT SALARY FOR THE RIGHT PEOPLE
TRAVEL ROUND THE WORLD – LIVE IN LUXURY
MUST BE UTTERLY RELIABLE AND
SUPER COMPETENT
This advert had caught Emily’s eye immediately. Going through an agency sounded a better approach than answering advertisements in the paper and not being sure what you were getting yourself into. She had to confess that she liked the sound of this sort of job. She looked at herself in the mirror and beamed at what she saw. If she could look like this, she could . . . why, she could do anything.
She’d give the agency a ring tomorrow and find out how to set about becoming that sort of housekeeper. She was going to do it, oh, yes, she was – get away from everything, spread her wings, do something with her life.
Still clutching the magazine, she sat and dreamed for a while of faraway places and living a more interesting life, then thought about Katie and began to worry. What would her daughter think of all this? Katie relied on her to babysit, turned to her in emergencies. She’d think her mother had gone mad. How was Emily going to tell her that she hadn’t gone mad, but that, just for once, she needed to do something for herself?
When she was a girl she’d longed to travel. She’d never managed to get her husband out of Western Australia, even for a holiday, so she’d never left it herself. She’d read lots of travel books from the library. She’d gone to classes to learn to cook different types of food, pretending to herself that she was going to the various countries for holidays.
Now she would go forth and see some of the world, she really would.
And she’d get herself one of those fancy housekeeper jobs, too. Well, she’d have a good old try at it, anyway. If she failed at that, she’d do something else, but at least she’d have had a go.
Her final thought had been hovering for a few days and she’d kept pushing it away. Now, when it settled at the forefront of her mind, she let it. She was going to revert to her maiden name. Emily Baker.
She didn’t know what the children would say. But even they weren’t going to make her change her mind. The name change was symbolic, somehow, of the changes she was making to her life. It was the outward sign of a promise to herself.
It’d have hurt Tom dreadfully. But he wasn’t here any longer and the children had their own lives. They’d soon get over it.
I’m remaking Emily Baker, she told herself, and smiled.
She wasn’t even applying for a passport until she’d done that. How did you change your name officially?
Yet another thing to learn. Life was full of new things to try. She sighed happily and let herself dream some more.
Katie rang to say her husband was going to be late. She’d grab something to eat and wouldn’t arrive till nearly eight o’clock.
She bounced into the house, stopped dead at the sight of Emily, then shrieked, ‘Mum! What have you done to yourself?’
‘I’ve had a makeover at a beauty parlour in Perth. You . . . don’t think I’ve overdone things, do you?’
‘Oh, no. Mum, you look lovely! Just lovely! Dare I touch you?’
‘Come here and give me a hug this minute!’
But after Katie had studied the new hairdo, tried the expensive moisturizer and enthused over the clothes, she fell silent.
Emily watched. Her daughter had other things on her mind, easy to tell that. ‘Best come straight out with it. What’s the matter?’
Katie looked across at her. ‘It’s Don. The new job. Oh, Mum, we have to move to Sydney. I’ll be so far away from you. Over four hours by plane.’ She flung herself into Emily’s arms and burst into tears.
It took a while to calm Katie down again. ‘So what’s the problem about that?’ Emily asked, as if she didn’t know.
‘I don’t want to leave you. Especially now you’re on your own.’
‘You think I can’t look after myself, eh?’
‘It’s not that. You know it’s not that. It’s me as well as you. I’ve never lived anywhere but Perth and – oh, I’m going to miss you so.’
‘Is it a good job?’
‘Oh, yes. When Don finished the first training course, they said he had management potential. But he needs experience, which means working all over Australia, starting in Sydney. They rent houses for you and they pay the removal costs, so we’ll be all right there, but – we’ll have to keep moving for a while, every year or two at least.’
Katie’s mouth wobbled and Emily could see that tears were still close to the surface, so she spoke firmly. ‘Well, if your man’s done so well, you can’t let him down by being a coward, can you?’
‘No-o. But what about you?’
‘What about me? I’m a grown woman, Katie. I don’t need wet-nursing. Besides – I’ve been thinking of getting a job myself, going overseas as well. I want to see a bit of the world. Your dad – well, you know what he was like. I used to read books from the library about other countries and long to visit them.’
Katie’s eyes were wide with astonishment. ‘I remember that. You never got him to go to Bali, even.’
‘What was the point? At first I couldn’t afford to go, and later he used to get so tired.’ Emily chuckled suddenly.
‘What are you laughing at?’
She patted Katie’s shoulder, then hugged her for good measure. ‘It’s quite funny, really. I’ve been worrying about how to tell you that I’m going to travel a bit, maybe get a job somewhere else. And here you are worrying about leaving me alone. So it’s all turned out for the best. It was meant to be.’
She hesitated. ‘And I’m changing my name, too.’
‘Changing your name?’
‘Yes. Back to Emily Baker.’
‘Why?’
She tried to explain, but gave up after a while. Her daughter didn’t really understand this need to be herself. Katie was in the throes of being part of a family group and would be for a long time yet.
A little while later, Katie said thoughtfully, ‘What’ll you do about Gavin?’
‘What I should have done years ago. Tell him to move out.’
‘He won’t be pleased about that.’
‘No, but he’ll just have to lump it.’ Emily grinned. ‘Or find some girl to look after him, as your father did.’
‘Who’d have Gavin? He’s a right old chauvinist, thanks to Dad.’
Emily frowned. It upset her to have a son who only regarded women in such a limited way, but that wasn’t down to Tom, who had respected women. ‘I don’t think it’s your dad. It’s these fellows Gavin’s been working with up north.’
‘I must say I don’t much like his friends. But he’ll be useless at looking after himself.’
‘Well, he can learn, can’t he? He’s a grown man and I’ve done my best for him. This is my time of life and I’m going to make the most of it.’
Katie got up and gave Emily a long hug, rocking her to and fro. ‘You’re wonderful, Mum,’ she said huskily. ‘No one could have a better mother than you, no one! I’m going to miss you dreadfully. I don’t know how I’ll ever manage without you. And just wait till I tell Don about how glamorous you’ve become.’
As she got ready for bed that night, Emily looked at herself in the mirror, the same mirror that had started it all off. This time it seemed pleased with what it saw.
‘Well, my girl,’ she said aloud. ‘Here’s your chance. Don’t blow it!’
She shook out the new nightdress, a filmy thing of blue lace, the sort of lingerie she’d always hungered for but which hadn’t seemed practical. There was no one to see it except her now, but still, she’d wanted it. She smoothed it against her body. It made her look – desirable. She blushed at the thought and hurried through the rest of her preparations.
I mustn’t make a mess of this, she decided. It’ll need very careful planning. And courage. Well, she’d find that from somewhere. She wasn’t going to sit in this house till she died.
She looked round the room and her hand hesitated over the switch of the bedside lamp. The house was old, well cared for but small and badly designed. They were pulling this sort of place down nowadays and building two or three villas instead on these quarter acre blocks. If she sold the place to someone like that, she would buy a villa or flat for herself, so that she had somewhere to come back to.
She stared across the bedroom. ‘When I sell this house,’ she told the speckled old mirror, ‘I’m definitely not taking you with me.’
She switched off the light and as she snuggled down she stroked the lace yoke of her beautiful nightdress and smiled.
The Christmas Spirit
Anna’s Notes
This story was much shorter when I first wrote it, but I liked the characters so much I had to extend it before I put it in this collection. That’s the trouble with short stories. They’re tantalizing. I always want to go more deeply into what happened, not to mention working out what happened next.
The idea for this story came from my own irritation with the commercialization of Christmas. It starts in October now, for heaven’s sake! Buy, buy, buy is not my idea of the spirit of Christmas.
Part One
Bianca shuddered as she entered the shopping mall. Christmas again! Acres of tinsel and tasteless decorations in all the shops. They were making very sure you couldn’t avoid the Christmas spirit, even though here in Australia December was the middle of summer and the weather was usually hot.
A fat man dressed as Santa Claus strolled by, looking very pink and sweaty in his extra layers of clothing. He wished her ‘Merry Christmas!’ in a booming voice and followed it up with a mirthless ‘Ho, ho, ho!’ When she glared at him, he blinked in surprise and moved on quickly.
‘I hate Christmas!’ she muttered. She knew why, of course. Being Italian, her family threw lots of parties at this time of year, and her mother used them all as excuses for matchmaking. In fact, her mother kept producing second cousins and neighbours’ sons one after the other, like rabbits out of hats, and it was driving Bianca mad, because it was so obvious!
She sighed as she stared round at the fake snow and sleighs. One year she was going to find a cave deep in a forest and hide in it for the whole of December. It was her favourite Christmas fantasy, a cool dream for hot nights.
She whizzed round the supermarket at top speed, refusing to be tempted by overpriced delicacies or seasonal luxuries. When she got home, she carted the shopping bags inside and sighed in relief. In spite of her car’s air conditioning, she felt like a limp lettuce.
After throwing the fresh stuff into the fridge, she showered and put on her bikini, smiling now. She loved living in this villa, which she’d bought last year after her divorce. It was well worth the residents’ fees to have a swimming pool always available, a pool that someone else had to clean – not to mention the high fences and regular security patrols round the whole complex.
As she was getting a towel for her swim she heard a noise from the back garden and glanced out of the bedroom window. A man was climbing over the fence from next door. A burglar! It must be. The next villa had been empty for three months.
Briefly she considered calling the security guard, but held off to watch for a minute because the man wasn’t making any attempt to break into her house. Instead, he was standing peering through the slits in the fence, looking at something in the garden next door.
Intrigued, she moved closer to the open window to watch.
She couldn’t help noticing how good-looking he was, with dark hair, and a lean, lightly muscled body. He was dressed only in denim shorts and his feet were bare, so he kept hopping to and fro on the hot paving.
She frowned in puzzlement as he continued to stand there. Burglars didn’t usually creep around half-naked and barefoot when they wanted to break into houses.
He shook his head as if upset and heaved a sigh so loud it echoed through her open window. His shoulders were sagging, too.
By now she just had to find out what was going on. What on earth was he watching so intently? Even standing on tiptoe, she couldn’t see next door. And why did he keep sighing?
Perhaps he was a stalker? Perhaps someone had moved in next door and he’d nearly been caught?
She felt anger rise at the mere thought. She’d had a prowler soon after she moved into a flat on her own – her ex-husband. She’d had security screens fitted, but he’d smashed the windows anyway.
She’d spent three long months living in fear. Then she’d got so angry she’d attended a self-defence course and bought herself a baseball bat. She’d had to prove to Roger that she would use it, though. And take out a restraining order against him.
So she’d moved into this new development, which had monitored alarm systems in all the villas and a security guard on duty who did regular patrols of the grounds. She got a silent number, and the phone calls and harassment had stopped.
She found out later from a mutual acquaintance that Roger had met someone else and they’d moved in together. Heaven help the poor woman!
Well, if the man in her backyard was a prowler, she’d show him a trick or two that would shock her mother. But before she went out to confront him, just to be safe, she hung the alarm pendant round her neck so that she could summon help with one press of the button.
Women’s voices floated over the fence, loud and strident, but all she saw was their shadows bobbing along the back wall of the other house. Someone must definitely have moved in. It’d be nice to have neighbours again, though not noisy ones, she hoped. Most people were very friendly and considerate in this miniature village. That was yet another bonus of living here.
‘He’s not in.’ A voice carried clearly through the still air, sounding like an older woman.
‘But that’s his car, Jen!’
‘He must have gone out. Fancy leaving the front door unlocked like that! I’ll scribble him a note. I can’t wait any longer. I’ve got half my Christmas shopping to do yet.’
As the voices faded, Bianca saw the man move to and fro again to ease his feet on the hot paving and his frown vanished. He had black curly hair, cut short, and his grin was infectious, even when you could only see half of it. She found herself smiling in sympathy. She was pretty sure now that he wasn’t a prowler.
Impulsively she went outside, crossing the three metres of patio space without him even noticing her. When she cleared her throat and said, ‘Hello. Can I help you?’ he jerked in shock and spun round, his mouth opening in alarm.
The same older woman’s voice immediately called from inside the house next door, ‘Did you hear something, Rita? I’m sure I heard a voice.’
He gasped and looked from side to side as if he wanted to flee for his life.
Bianca tried again. ‘What are you—?’
He cast a desperate glance over his shoulder, and as the voice said, ‘I’ll just look outside again,’ he grabbed Bianca and pulled her towards him, covering her mouth with his and muffling the rest of her words with a kiss.
She ought to have been afraid, but she wasn’t. In fact, she forgot all fear, not to mention self-defence strategies, as her hormones kicked suddenly into action. It had been nearly two years since the divorc
e and she hadn’t been seeing anyone seriously since.
She hadn’t really missed having a man in her life, either. Now, for some weird reason, her body was responding to a stranger’s kiss, and she was relishing the sheer maleness of his body against hers.
Words of protest died to a gurgle in her throat as his lips moved on hers. For a moment or two she found herself returning the kiss.
Then he moved away, but was still so close she could feel his soft breath against her skin. She stared up into his eyes, beautiful blue eyes fringed with long lashes, and every thought left her head but one: he’s gorgeous!
She wasn’t aware how long she stood there in his arms, but at the sound of a car pulling away from the central roadway between the units, she came abruptly to her senses and began to push at him.
This time he made no attempt to hold her, but stepped back with his arms spread wide in a gesture of surrender. ‘I’m sorry for that. I was desperate to keep you quiet.’ Then he smiled, a curl-your-toes sort of smile. ‘Mind you, I also plead guilty to enjoying it.’
She sucked in air frantically. She’d enjoyed it, too. Fancy enjoying kissing a stranger! ‘Who are you?’
‘I’m your new neighbour.’ He stuck out a hand. ‘Hal Crawford at your service.’
She was still feeling disoriented and couldn’t manage more than, ‘Oh. Well. I’m Bianca. Bianca Marella. And – um, this is my unit.’
He pumped her hand. ‘Pleased to meet you. And I do apologize for kissing you like that. I wasn’t trying to harass you, I just had to stop you making a noise and it – well, got a bit out of hand. Thank you for going along with it.’
Going along with it? She’d not been able to think or move.
She was suddenly aware that she was only wearing a skimpy bikini that showed a lot more than it concealed. It was the heat that was making her so slow to react. It must be. She tried to speak sharply, in the tone which usually shrivelled men up and made them turn away to find softer, easier females to conquer, only the words didn’t come out sharply this time. ‘I didn’t have much choice about the kiss, actually.’