by Ilsa Evans
There was silence when Lyn finished and she sat back in the couch, deflated, finally breaking off her glare in Fiona’s direction. Jenny put down the tray, the glasses chiming gently against each other, and went over to wrap her arms around Lyn awkwardly, squeezing. The embrace continued for a few moments and then Jenny straightened, returning to the tray still without having said a word. She poured champagne into each flute, watching the froth rise.
Fiona put a hand on Lyn’s knee. ‘Hey, I didn’t mean –’
‘I know.’
‘I do understand, you know. After our property settlement, Peter dropped off my photo albums on the front doorstep. All burnt. A box full of ashes.’ Fiona paused, remembering. ‘So if the kids had been younger, maybe I wouldn’t have gone through with it in the first place.’
‘I didn’t,’ Lyn smiled, but her eyes were shiny. ‘I just left and let him have the lot. Started all over again.’
‘Okay, this is supposed to be a celebration.’ Jenny sent a swift, soft smile in Lyn’s direction and then passed out the flutes before raising hers. ‘A toast! To Maddie and her impending court case. May fortune favour the brave!’
‘The brave!’ repeated Fiona as, beside her, Lyn simply raised her glass. As if this was all she was capable of just now.
Maddie took a sip, casting around for a subject that would break the tension. ‘Did I miss anything last week?’
‘Nothing earth-shaking.’ Jenny put her glass down and sliced a piece of cheese.
‘Except for your impending dirty weekend,’ said Fiona with a sly grin. ‘Another reason I suspect young Jenny here was so keen on getting together on a Thursday night. See, this time tomorrow she will be on the road to Daylesford for the weekend, with her new fellow.’
Jenny was flushing. ‘Let’s change the subject.’
‘Only if you promise to share all the juicy details next week.’
‘Okay.’
Maddie looked at Fiona curiously. ‘Can I ask a personal question? Have you repartnered?’
‘Me?’ Fiona seemed surprised to be even asked. She crossed her legs, smoothing down her slacks. ‘No, and doubt I will either,’ she smiled, softening the words. ‘That is, you can’t rule anything out, can you? But the thing is, I don’t know that I’d take the risk. And I’m so set in my ways now that I don’t think I’d like to share. To compromise.’
‘No one’d take me on,’ Lyn laughed, joining in once more. ‘Not with my mob!’
‘What about you, Maddie?’
Maddie sucked her bottom lip, staring down into her wineglass. ‘I don’t know. Like, I know this sounds stupid, especially after six years, but I can’t imagine being with anyone else.’ She looked up, instantly reading their shock. ‘No! I don’t mean I want to get back together or anything like that!’
‘Thank god,’ said Fiona, helping herself to some crackers. ‘I’m fed up with that happening.’
Maddie shook her head for emphasis. ‘I just meant that . . . oh, I don’t know.’
‘I do,’ Lyn smiled at her. ‘And so does Jen, and Fiona too. Even if she won’t admit it.’
Maddie took a sip of wine, just to have something to do. Then she rotated the flute with her fingers, listening to the glass squeak against her skin. ‘I’m thinking of applying to university.’
‘Good on you!’ Fiona looked surprised, but enthusiastic. ‘To do what?’
‘Um . . . law?’
‘Law! My god! Well, why not?’
‘Of course I’m not sure if I’ll get in, even with mature-age entry,’ continued Maddie quickly, ‘I only did the first year of an arts degree after high school, and then dropped out and took a job with the defence department. Just administration.’
‘But at least you’re giving it a try.’ Fiona raised her glass again, as a salute.
‘It’s a matter of trying to do something.’ Maddie struggled for the right words. ‘You know, with all the stuff that’s happened. I mean I might as well try and use it.’
Fiona looked smug. ‘Do you know that about half of all abused women end up doing further education? And most of those are in community-related fields? Social work, counselling, refuge work, law?’
Maddie shook her head, genuinely astounded. ‘I didn’t know that.’
‘Jen is a perfect example.’ Fiona waved towards Jenny, who looked embarrassed. ‘She was a qualified naturopath, but she went back and did counselling about two years ago. Now she mixes the two together.’
‘It sounds strange,’ added Jenny quickly, ‘but they actually complement each other. Holistic healing. But I never mention my own experiences to clients.’ She shook her head, suddenly very serious. ‘I’ve seen some damage done by women who do that. Or whose baggage is still too new. No, the trick is to use it for extra depth of understanding, like a tool. Then it’s invaluable.’
‘Can’t buy that sort of experience,’ said Lyn. ‘When my lot are older I’m going to do something. Not sure what yet.’
Maddie smiled, shaking her head. ‘So here was I, thinking I was being unique, that I’d come up with this inspirational idea, when I was only following statistics.’
‘Just like the rest of us.’ Fiona regarded her carefully, as if waiting for her to disagree. ‘That’s the most ironic part of domestic violence. It’s all part of a pattern. Everything.’
Maddie took a sip of wine, mulling this over. Realising that it was actually encouraging to think of all the women who had gone before her, rather than the opposite. If they had done it, then so could she.
Jenny picked up the champagne bottle and topped up their glasses. She sat back into the armchair, with her own flute in hand. ‘Hey, did anyone bring some show and tell this week?’
‘I did!’ Lyn inched forward and awkwardly hefted her handbag from the floor. It was a huge, cavernous bag, studded with belts and buckles. She rummaged through and removed a small dictionary. She flicked it open and then cleared her throat melodramatically. ‘The definition of forgiveness.’ She paused, looking at them each in turn. ‘ “To grant free pardon and to give up all claim on account of offence or debt. To cease to feel resentment against.” ’
‘What bullshit,’ said Fiona shortly.
‘Well, that’s why I looked it up,’ went on Lyn, closing the little book. ‘Because I was thinking after we spoke the other week, still trying to get my head around it. But if that’s what it means, granting free pardon, then they can shove it.’
‘I don’t think that’s it entirely,’ said Jenny slowly. ‘Because I think it’s more about you than the other person. It’s about releasing yourself to move forward.’
‘Still bullshit.’
‘I don’t know.’ Jenny went silent, pleating her skirt in her lap.
‘Well, I think I’m gonna give up on it.’ Lyn tossed the book down onto the coffee table, where it slid across the polished wood and toppled off the other side. ‘Even if I wanted to, I can’t grant free bloody pardon to a guy who just keeps on offending. It’s stupid.’
‘Hear, hear,’ said Fiona, raising her glass.
‘I think I’ll put the kettle on.’ Jenny rose, her multilayered skirt fluttering around her. She leant down and picked up the little book, placing it gently on the table. ‘Make you all a hot drink to balance out the champagne.’
As she left the room, Fiona turned to gaze seriously at Maddie. ‘You remember that analogy you used earlier, about finding the lights? Turning them on?’
‘Yes,’ Maddie grimaced. ‘Give me some time and I’ll think of a better one.’
‘More illuminating?’ asked Lyn, grinning.
Fiona rolled her eyes while still gazing at Maddie. ‘No, the analogy’s fine. I just wanted to say that I hope you’ve allowed for some of them to get turned off again. Even if just every now and again.’ She frowned ruefully. ‘I sound like I’m trying to rain on your parade, don’t I? But I really do hope it’s all smooth sailing for you from now on. It’s just the chances are it won’t be.’
‘Yes
. I know.’
‘I had a counsellor once who used to call it a dance,’ said Lyn suddenly. ‘Like the waltz or something. You know, two steps forward, one step back.’
Fiona gave Lyn a grateful look. ‘That’s what I was trying to say!’ She turned back to Maddie. ‘But the main thing to remember is that even with the two steps forward, one step back, you’re still gradually getting ahead, even when it doesn’t feel like it. And not to let him lead, not if you can help it.’
‘I know,’ said Maddie again, because she did.
TWENTY-ONE
But punishment was swift, much swifter than Maddie ever anticipated. She had spent the whole of Friday trying to expel her nervous energy, wishing desperately that she could finish early and collect the children from school, cut out that small window when they would be at Jake’s house. Knowing, nevertheless, that it was very important she not deviate in any way from the orders lest these be presented as contraventions at the hearing. She wondered if he would get the same process server, that clean-cut jovial young guy, and how he would react. And this thought pulsed behind her eyes, like an extra sense.
To keep herself busy during the slow hours at work she researched her university application and then put it together, poring over the best wording, apologising for the lack of documentation, trying to explain the gap in her schooling. Figuring that even if this was way beyond her, no one need know if she was rejected. So with everything else making it seem relatively minor, just another entry on her to-do list, she submitted her application. A bulky envelope that was swallowed rapidly by the letterbox before she could change her mind.
As soon as she got home, Maddie began packing the car, moving quickly and efficiently, because she planned for them all to be well clear of the area before Jake was served this evening. It was five o’clock by the time she finished so she took up her customary position by the window, waiting for the red hatchback to pull up by the kerb. Hoping that this time it wouldn’t be too late, not just because she didn’t want to cut the timing too close, but because her nerves multiplied with every minute that crept past. Tumbling over themselves in her gut like little insects, with fibrous wings that fluttered weakly, fanning her nausea.
Guess became increasingly irritating. Pushing up against her, tripping her as she turned, whining softly whenever she pushed him away. She knew this was mainly because she had already clipped his lead on, all ready to go, and so he now expected exactly that. But it was still intensely annoying, another thing in her way. At six o’clock she let the curtain drop, again, and pushed the dog aside to stride into the kitchen, searching for something to do. The phone rang as she was washing her hands, scrubbing at the soft pads of her fingertips with the kitchen scourer. Maddie shook her hands quickly, frantically, and grabbed up the phone from the table. It slipped in her damp hands and for a moment she juggled it, then hooked her fingers around like a claw to hold it steady.
‘Hello?’
‘Mum?’ Sam’s voice was soft, a hissed syllable that slid down the line.
And Maddie knew immediately that something was wrong. ‘What is it? What’s going on?’
‘We’re going to Yea.’
‘You’re what?’
‘Listen, I have to talk quickly, coz Dad’s paying for petrol and Natalie’s gone to the loo. But something happened this afternoon, I dunno what. Some guy came round as we were leaving for your place and gave Dad these papers. Next thing we’re on the way to Yea.’
Maddie’s eyes widened as this registered, and then made sense. She clutched at her hair with her spare hand. ‘But what was he doing there? Why was he home?’
‘He got home early. I think he and Natalie were going away for the weekend or something.’
‘Oh, god. Oh god.’
‘Mum?’
‘Sam, those were court papers, telling him I was taking him back to court.’ Maddie could hear the whine in her voice, as if Sam was responsible. She felt like crying, screaming, but instead let go of her hair and took a deep breath. ‘He wasn’t supposed to get them till later, after you two were with me. We were going to spend the weekend at Auntie Hannah’s and I was going to tell you all about it.’
‘Oh. Well, he got them all right. Went freaking nuts. Ordered us into the car but we could hear him anyway, yelling at Natalie and all.’
‘Bloody hell.’
‘And he’s still pretty pissed now, I can tell you. Ran two red lights on the way out of town.’ Sam paused and in the background Maddie could hear Ashley whisper, ‘Quick, he’s coming.’
‘I gotta go, Mum. I’ll try and ring you tonight.’
‘Sam! Sam!’ Maddie shook the phone as if that might make her son come back. Then she tossed it onto the table, watching it slide across on an angle, still slippery from her hands. This was exactly what she had wanted so desperately to avoid, Jake having the children with him while he came to terms with her court action. After all her careful planning, all her strategising, things had still gone wrong. Both Jake and the process server had been early. Either one, by itself, might have been okay, but both together meant that now Sam and Ashley were speeding down to Yea for the weekend. Instead of being here, with her.
Maddie realised she was clenching her fists so tightly that her nails were digging into her skin. She uncurled them and stared at her palms, at the little crescent indentations. Pallid white reddening rapidly as the blood rushed to fill the void. She snatched up the phone, stared at it and then dialled Sam’s number quickly, angrily.
‘Hello?’ His voice was low, reluctant.
‘Sam, put your father on. Now.’
‘I can’t, he’s driving.’
Jake’s voice came clearly, clipping off the words. ‘Who is it?’
Sam hesitated. ‘It’s Mum.’
‘Tell that fucking bitch to go rot in hell. Better still, I’ll tell her.’ There was a series of dull thumps and then, quite suddenly, Jake’s voice was even louder. ‘You there, bitch?’
Maddie took a deep breath, strengthening her anger. ‘Don’t talk like that in front of them.’
‘I’ll talk any way I fucking want. If you don’t like it, hang the fuck up.’
‘Bring me back my kids.’
‘You must be joking. After this last stunt, you’ll be lucky if you ever get to see –’
‘You won’t be able to do that.’ Maddie kept her voice even, with frustration giving it a throaty depth. ‘Even this now, taking them like this, I’ll put it in as a contravention.’
‘Try it. Go on, just fucking try it.’
‘I will. Two can play at your game, you know.’
‘You reckon? Really? Play this, bitch.’
The phone went abruptly dead, leaving just a hollow nothingness which actually softened his last threat. Maddie suspected that, in the car, the impact had been more threatening with the words accompanied by the phone being thrown somewhere. Perhaps even out the window.
And she could see their hands, splayed against the glass as they stared out at her, willing her to rescue them. Fingerprints a flattened ivory, pressing so hard it seemed that each finger pad was suctioned. Like little starfish. Round and round the garden, like a teddy bear. One step, two steps – and tickle you under there. But the only hysteria was hers, bubbling up and bursting within her swollen throat because there was simply no room for it to emerge.
Maddie closed her eyes against the little hands and then opened them to return Guess’s stare from the doorway. She ran the conversation through her head again. Imagining how Sam and Ashley had felt, sitting in the back seat listening to all that. And Natalie. Maddie felt a sudden surge of anger that she must have been there too, just sitting there, not interjecting, not even trying to calm the situation.
She clenched her fists and then strode from the room, pushing Guess out of the way. Coming to a halt in the lounge and staring at the couch, then the window, and then the computer. Quite simply not knowing what to do next. She could feel her eyes tearing over and this annoyed her ev
en more, adding to an anger that seemed to boil within. She closed her eyes, scrunching them shut, and then suddenly folded down into a crouched squat, fists still clenched. And screamed. A low, fierce, straining sound that went on until she ran out of breath and toppled forwards onto her knees, sucking air in through clenched teeth.
And she was sliding across the table towards him, spilt coffee saturating her T-shirt. Before being yanked up, like a rag doll, until she was centimetres away from his face. Where she stared at him wonderingly, at the pulsing, ropy vein in his forehead, at the flatness of his eyes. And then, without really thinking, sucked saliva into her mouth and spat. Full in his face.
She might have stayed there for even longer had it not been for Guess, coming over to nudge her with his nose, emitting a soft whimper that begged a response. Maddie opened her eyes and drew the dog close, ruffling his fur and murmuring into his grey-black neck. Smelling his pungent, wet-blanket smell. Feeling his heart echo through his shoulder blades and drawing a strange sense of comfort from that alone. After a few minutes she pulled herself to her feet, anger still bubbling but more contained now, more manageable. She unclipped the dog’s lead and let it fall to the floor. Then she went back to the kitchen and fetched the phone, using her diary to find the number of the legal centre. Not really surprised when the call went straight through to an answering machine, where it would stay until Monday, two whole days away. Nevertheless Maddie felt a little better after she had left a message for Robyn. As if any action was better than nothing at all.
TWENTY-TWO
Without exception, it was the longest weekend of Maddie’s life. Which came with an isolation that stretched each minute, each hour, even further until they strained with a tension that actually hurt. She knew she could have alleviated everything, even if only slightly, by visiting Hannah or Kim, or simply calling them. Explaining what had happened, sharing. But alongside her frustration was an unwillingness to admit that things had gone so quickly wrong. And she didn’t want sympathy, was tired of sympathy, especially so soon after tasting the sweetness of their praise.