Sticks and Stones

by Ilsa Evans

  Fucking bitch, pathetic, disgusting. Mother from hell. There was a tiny bead of spittle at the corner of his mouth, which thinned as his lips moved. Useless bitch. Whore.

  Maddie blinked, and then looked from one woman to the other. She knew exactly what they were saying, but didn’t want to join in. It was enough, perhaps even more than enough, to sit on the outside looking in. She thought of what he would say if he could see her here. Sad, sorry bunch of women. Drowning in bitterness and the inability to move on.

  ‘Anyway, so that was my thought for the week,’ said Lyn, with an odd sense of self-satisfaction. She smiled at Maddie. ‘See, we try to come up with at least one weird saying or whatever every week. Challenge them, or just have a laugh if they’re really ridiculous. Like yours the other week, Jenny? That was a great one.’

  Jenny nodded. ‘It was from this old freezer book of my mother’s. Written by a married couple. About beating ice or something. Apparently you shouldn’t skimp on the beating, because ices, like women, dogs and walnut trees, are always improved by consistent walloping.’

  Maddie stared at her. ‘Are you serious?’

  ‘Absolutely. I borrowed the book from Mum so I could show everyone. I mean it was a pretty old one, but still.’

  ‘I wonder why a walnut tree needs beating?’ asked Lyn, of no one in particular.

  Fiona shrugged. ‘Moving on, I’m pleased to inform you that this week I too brought along a piece for perusal.’ She paused to rummage around in her handbag and then unfold a sheet of paper. ‘I’m afraid I haven’t done as well as Jenny and accessed the original so this will have to do. It comes courtesy of my son’s new girlfriend; it seems they were looking at the book in her university. Analysing it or something.’

  As Maddie glanced around at her companions again, a little bemused by their anticipatory expressions, Fiona cleared her throat melodramatically. ‘So, from Man’s World circa 1969, comes this priceless piece of advice: “There are men who can treat women rough, violate all the accepted codes of behaviour and – through some exceptional charm – get away with it. Be sure you’re that type of man before you take the risk.”’

  ‘Before you take the risk,’ repeated Jenny, with a snort of laughter.

  ‘Bloody hell,’ Lyn shook her head.

  Fiona grinned as she refolded the paper. ‘You like?’

  As the three women began to discuss the quote at length, with the occasional peal of laughter, Maddie watched, feeling rather nonplussed. All day, since deciding to attend the support group, she had geared herself up towards an evening of revelations, of confessionals, of tears and trauma. Perhaps even something that began like all those television shows, with alcoholics and gamblers: ‘Hello, my name is Maddie and I am a battered woman.’

  This small group, with just the three regular members, seemed to be more of a social evening; a casual get-together of women who had just one thing in common. As for the competition they seemed to have going with each other, it was bizarre. To deliberately seek evidence of sexism, or discrimination, or plain ignorance, and then hold it up as a source of amusement. Most disappointing, however, was the fact that clearly their experiences would have no relevance to her situation. The only one with children still at home was Lyn, and Maddie suspected strongly that their circumstances were very different. Nevertheless she didn’t regret coming. Not only had it helped fill the time but it had given her something rather precious – a balmy sense of relief that, after all, she simply didn’t belong.

  EIGHT

  The phone call came midmorning on Sunday. Maddie had just finished making up Sam’s and Ashley’s beds with clean sheets and was shoving the dirty lot into the washing machine. She’d slept badly, despite having enjoyed a very pleasant evening with Kim that didn’t involve alcohol or coffee or any other stimulant that might have kept her up. Nor had the evening contained any intense discussion; instead they had chatted about almost everything else – the school fete, Kim’s latest problem client, the harsh summer weather expected – every so often skimming over the surface of Maddie’s situation only to glance away before the conversation could settle.

  Yet still she spent much of the night staring at the fluorescent numbers on her bedside clock worrying, with handover day now looming, about how things would pan out. And every time she woke, at one o’clock, two-thirty, three-ten, four-forty, it was straight into the midst of fully formed questions. What had it been like for them with Jake’s family, after six years away? Were they looking forward to coming back? Would Jake bring them all the way or would she be expected to meet him halfway, like the weekend arrangement Kim had with her ex-husband? Or would she need to drive all the way down to Melbourne? Despite only living a couple of hours away, Maddie hadn’t been to Melbourne for six years and the thought of returning, after all this time, was nervously exciting. As was, bizarrely, the thought of meeting Jake again. She told herself this was in anticipation of working things out. Moving forward.

  She spent the morning tidying their rooms and then making a welcome-home cake, delighting in the unfamiliar role of a Martha Stewart mum. Every so often glancing at the clock because she had decided to wait until noon, exactly, and then ring Sam herself if she hadn’t heard from him. So the sudden sound of the phone ringing just after eleven brought a flutter of hollow relief.

  ‘Hello, Mum?’

  ‘Sam,’ Maddie smiled the name. ‘How’re things? You guys back from Yea yet?’

  ‘Yep, got back before.’

  There was silence for a moment and then Maddie laughed, for no reason but to fill the gap. ‘So how was it? How were your grandparents? All the aunts?’

  ‘They’re all good except for Grandad. He’s dead.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘He’s dead,’ repeated Sam flatly. ‘He died while we were . . . gone.’

  Maddie sat down on the edge of the couch. ‘Oh my god. How? When?’

  ‘Dunno. A heart attack, I think. About two years ago.’

  ‘I’m so sorry, Sam.’ Maddie’s eyes filmed as she thought of Jake’s father, even though his genial patriarchy had always made her feel cumbersome, as if she took up too much space. A heart attack. She felt a sudden flush of guilt, as though she had personally clogged an artery.

  ‘Yeah, and it was real weird without him there. Real weird.’

  ‘But how’s Gran then? Is she still living in that huge house?’

  ‘Oh, she’s fine,’ replied Sam offhandedly. ‘Still in the house and all. But I can tell you all that when I get back. Um. Listen, Mum?’

  The guilt she was feeling was pushed aside by a sudden premonition. ‘Yes?’

  ‘You know how it’s the school holidays now?’

  ‘Yes?’

  ‘Well, see, something’s come up. Um . . .’

  ‘Just say it, Sam,’ snapped Maddie, suspicion honing her irritation to a fine point.

  ‘Okay, okay.’ Sam spoke as if she was overreacting already. ‘See, Dad got offered these tickets to the Gold Coast. Staying at the Seaworld Nara Resort. Seeing all the worlds. Dreamworld, Movieworld, Sea-world. There was this guy who couldn’t go all of a sudden so he offered the whole thing to Dad. For a bargain.’

  Maddie felt sick. ‘How long?’

  ‘Only eight days,’ said Sam quickly. ‘We’ll be back before you know it. And it’ll give us more time to get to know Dad again.’

  ‘I see.’

  ‘And it’s not like we would’ve been doing anything at home. Except getting bored.’

  ‘Yes. Of course.’

  ‘And you’d never have been able to ever take us. It’s too much money.’ Maddie nodded, because it was all true. And retribution continued apace. She stared across the room at the television antenna, which was casting two thin black lines on the wall behind. Like the shadow of a fork in the road.

  ‘Um, you want to speak to Ashley?’

  ‘Okay. Yes, thanks.’

  Maddie could hear Sam’s footsteps as he walked through the house in search of his
sister. Then all sound was muffled and she guessed he put his hand over the phone while they spoke. After a few moments, clarity returned.

  ‘Mum? Mum?’

  ‘Ashley,’ Maddie smiled, despite the lump that was forming in her gut. ‘How are you?’

  ‘Are you angry?’

  ‘No, of course not.’

  ‘Really?’

  ‘Really.’

  Ashley breathed out audibly, as if she had been holding her breath for the past six days. ‘Mum, like I’ve been so worried about that! I thought you wouldn’t be speaking to me. Ever!’

  ‘Of course not. Ash, I understand. I really do.’

  ‘Mum. I love you.’

  ‘I love you too. And I’m sorry about your grandad. That must have been sad.’

  ‘Yeah, it was.’ There was silence for a moment, and then Ashley suddenly shrieked: ‘Oh my god! Did you hear where we’re going today? Did you? The Gold Coast! Staying at Seaworld.’

  ‘Yes. I heard.’

  ‘Can you believe it?’

  ‘Actually, no. Not really.’

  ‘I’ve never even been on a plane. Well, except for when I was little but that doesn’t count because I can’t remember. Mum! Dreamworld! Movieworld! Seaworld!’

  ‘It’ll sure be something to tell your friends when you get back,’ said Maddie, suddenly needing to have that connection. Confirmation.

  ‘Oh my god! They’re going to be like, so jealous!’ Ashley paused for a moment, but her excitement continued to crackle down the line. ‘And we’ve got all new clothes! I’ve got this wicked pair of bathers with a matching sarong thing. They’re sort of this tie-dyed purple. And Dad’s gonna buy me a mobile phone! It’ll be mainly for me and him but of course I can use it for all my friends. Oh, Mum! Don’t forget to ring Georgia’s mum and tell her I’m not coming this week.’

  ‘Okay.’

  ‘You know the only thing that I’m unhappy about?’ asked Ashley suddenly, in a confiding tone. She went on before Maddie could even form an expectation. ‘Tigger.’

  ‘Tigger.’

  ‘Yes. I’ve never slept without Tigger. And now it’s even worse.’

  ‘Why’s that?’ asked Maddie tiredly. She stared across at the cake sitting on the table.

  ‘Because he smells like home. Like our house, and our kitchen, and Guess. And you.’

  ‘Oh.’

  ‘I’ve got to go, Mum. We’re leaving in a minute. Love you.’

  ‘Hang on, Ash!’ Maddie stood up, as if this might help. She felt suddenly energised. ‘Are you leaving right now? What time’s your flight?’

  ‘Just a tic.’ Ashley didn’t even lower the phone as she yelled the question out across the room. Maddie could hear Jake’s voice murmuring in the background.

  ‘One-thirty, Mum. Why?’

  ‘Because I’ll meet you there,’ said Maddie, glancing at the clock and doing mental calculations. ‘I’m bringing Tigger.’

  ‘Mum!’ shrieked Ashley again. ‘I love you!’

  ‘Love you too.’ Maddie hung up the phone and then took a deep breath. ‘Otherwise none of this would be important.’

  Maddie took the Western Freeway, passing along the periphery of small towns, all slow and somnolent in the breezy afternoon sunshine. Tigger sat beside her, staring straight ahead at the glove box with his slightly open mouth giving him a perpetual look of surprise. Ashley had got him that very first Christmas, when they had still been in the refuge. Just one of several presents that Maddie had hurriedly bought on Christmas Eve. Running from shop to shop with her arms full of wrapping paper and sticky tape and gifts. And a little bit of tinsel to try to make their room less sterile and more festive. To take their minds off all the Christmases past, and future. Yet despite his last-minute origin, Tigger had been an immediate hit. Apparently he had ‘shoulders’, perfect for slipping hands underneath and holding tight.

  By the time she reached Melton, Maddie knew she was going to make it with time to spare but tension remained coiled within, like a spring. At Tullamarine she took the ramp into the carpark and parked not far from the suspended walkway that led to the airport proper. People were everywhere, large families pushing trolleys overladen with precarious suitcases, bored children barely under control, backpackers looking tired and somehow grubby regardless of whether they were at the beginning of their trip or the end. A mass of humanity with one hundred different languages being spoken at once, all of which somehow came together to form a thick layer of rising, falling, noise.

  With Tigger hugged against her chest, Maddie dodged her way through the crowd to the bank of overhead monitors, scanning departures for a one-thirty flight to the Gold Coast. And there it was: gate seven. She breathed out with relief and closed her eyes for just a moment, before launching herself back into the throng. But this time it seemed she was going with the flow and it was much easier, all the way to the security checkpoint and then through to the other side and along the concourse past each of the gates. One, two, three, she made herself slow down and lowered Tigger so that he was held at her side. Four, five, six. Seven. Ma ddie paused and scanned the crowd which had already begun to form even though the flight wasn’t due to board for another twenty minutes.

  ‘Mum!’

  She turned and there was Ashley, right behind her. Standing there with a huge grin on her face. New jeans with a hot-pink T-shirt that read Yes, the world really does revolve around me! Maddie didn’t stop to think, or even wonder where the others might be, she just stepped forward and wrapped her arms around her daughter.

  ‘Hey, you’re squishing me.’ Ashley wriggled out of the embrace, still grinning. She looked down and saw Tigger. ‘Mum! You brought him!’

  ‘I said I would, didn’t I?’ Maddie held him out and then smiled as Ashley grabbed the toy eagerly, clearly not at all concerned about appearing childish. ‘Where’s Sam? And your father?’

  ‘Having coffee over there. C’mon, I’ll take you.’

  Maddie tried to see past Ashley’s shoulder but there were too many people, so she just followed. They weaved across the main concourse towards a cafe that was set in a mostly glass-panelled alcove, with clusters of tables and chairs. Rows of stationary airplanes could be seen through the windows, with hoses snaking from their bellies and little trucks with trailers zipping their way underneath. Ashley led her mother towards a marbled pillar at the back, adorned with vibrantly fake asparagus ferns, and suddenly there they were. Her breath caught in her throat and she froze, just standing stupidly as Ashley dragged her chair out next to her father. On the other side of the table was Sam, and beside him, opposite Jake, was another woman.

  ‘Hey Mum,’ said Sam awkwardly.

  ‘Sam.’ Maddie dragged her eyes towards her son. ‘How are you?’

  ‘Good,’ he nodded and then glanced across at his father before ducking his gaze, busying himself with his milkshake.

  ‘Coffee?’ asked Jake suddenly, and it was like being asked something terribly complex, where she had to dissect each syllable just to have the word make sense. She nodded, but only because she wanted desperately to appear as if all this meant nothing. He stood up and lifted a chair from an empty table nearby, swinging it across and placing it before Maddie. Then, without really looking at her, he made an exaggeratedly courtly gesture towards the chair and left, already sliding his wallet out from his rear pocket.

  Maddie watched him go and then sat down at the head of the table, reaching across and clumsily hugging Sam. He drew back almost immediately.

  ‘Steady on, Mum. God.’

  ‘Fine then.’ Maddie pretended to pretend to be upset. She felt a surge of annoyance towards Sam that surprised her. To break the moment she took a deep breath and looked across at the other woman full on. ‘Hello, my name is Maddie.’

  ‘Nice to meet you. I’m Natalie.’ She gave a slight, uncomfortable smile and then immediately glanced over towards the coffee counter, as if to see how long Jake would be. This, as much as anything else, brought a sudde
n lump to Maddie’s throat. She felt sick.

  ‘Thank you for bringing Tigger,’ said Ashley again, hugging him against her chest so that the soft toy stared across the table, looking surprised.

  ‘That’s okay.’ Maddie concentrated on her daughter, giving herself a few moments to track everything about her face. The slight dimple, the way her dark eyelashes seemed to cluster thickly at the corners, the residual baby fat that still plumped her cheeks. She took a deep breath, and then pushed the earlier annoyance to one side as she turned back to Sam. ‘Hey there. You’re very quiet.’

  He shrugged. ‘I’m just . . . I dunno.’

  Maddie used her peripheral vision to examine the other woman, who was still studiously gazing towards the counter. She was quite attractive, with long auburn hair caught up in a messy bun that allowed wavy tendrils to frame her face. Hazel eyes and a narrow nose and rose-pink lipstick to exaggerate her rather thin lips. A slightly receding chin that sloped down to a long, graceful neck. A little younger, most likely, perhaps in her early thirties.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ said Sam suddenly. ‘About the holiday and all.’

  Maddie focused. ‘What? Oh no, Sam. You don’t have to be sorry. Not at all.’ She reached out and touched him lightly on the back of his hand. ‘Why shouldn’t you have a holiday with your father? I want you to have a good time. It’s not like you have to pick sides or anything. We’ll sort it all out.’

  ‘Okay.’ Sam flashed a look at her and then nodded. He took a noisy slurp of his milkshake.

  Maddie smiled again, now warmed by the fact she’d guessed correctly. That she was a good parent. She wanted very much to glance across at the other woman and gauge her reaction but wanted, just as much, to avoid making eye contact. Then her smile faded as a cup brimming with frothy, chocolate-sprinkled coffee was placed before her; a cappuccino, which she hadn’t drunk for years. Jake slid into the chair opposite and looked at her expressionlessly.

  ‘Thank you,’ said Maddie quickly. She stared at the coffee, and then made a show of sugaring and stirring. Straightening the cup so that the logo faced front on. Buying time.