by Susan Lewis
‘I thought that was when you did exercises.’
‘That’s aerobics.’
Chloe was quiet again, and Charlotte closed her eyes as a wave of exhaustion washed over her.
‘I’m not very happy,’ Chloe finally whispered.
Charlotte hugged her hard. ‘I know, sweetheart,’ she said, ‘but once we’ve got everything sorted out you will be. I promise.’
‘Cross your heart and hope to die?’
‘Cross my heart and hope to die.’
‘You’re a liar!’ Chloe spat, and punching Charlotte in the face, she ran to the bathroom and locked the door.
Later in the day, with Rick gamely schooling Chloe up at the house, and Elodie seeming a lot brighter as she wheeled a pushcart about the cellar door while chatting gibberish to herself, Charlotte was on the phone to Sara Munds, the mother of Olivia who was in Chloe’s class at Te Mata Primary. There was no one else Charlotte could have made this call to, for she’d hardly met the other mothers; however Sara had once told her to be in touch if she ever needed anything.
So this was Charlotte being in touch and cringing her way through every minute of it. ‘I’m really sorry to ask,’ she was saying, ‘and if you’d rather not I’ll understand perfectly, but Chloe’s feeling very lonely at home on her own so I was wondering if Olivia might like to come over. Or perhaps Chloe could come there.’
‘Oh Charlotte, of course she can come here,’ Sara Munds responded warmly. ‘I realise how difficult all this must be for you both. I’ll tell you what; Olivia’s having a birthday party on Saturday. Do you think Chloe would like to come to that?’
‘I’m sure she’d love to,’ Charlotte gushed with relief, loving this woman for how kind and non-judgemental she was being. ‘Is it a dressing-up occasion?’
‘The girls are coming as fairies and the boys as goblins,’ Sara chuckled. ‘We’re having a picnic on the lawn, and if she’d like to bring her swimsuit there’ll be lots of pool games, completely supervised, of course, we don’t want any unfortunate accidents.’
‘No of course not,’ Charlotte agreed, baulking slightly at the idea of clothes having to come off for swimsuits to go on.
Just stop, Charlotte. Not everything in Chloe’s world is about that. ‘This is so kind of you, Sara,’ she said. ‘I really appreciate it. I’m sure Chloe will want to start working on a fairy outfit as soon as I tell her.’
She was right about that, for the instant Chloe realised she was going to a party she lit up with excitement, and began running around the house trying to find things to help make her dress. Throwing her books in the air Rick declared the day’s studies over, and appointed himself in charge of transforming his little angel into a fairy.
‘Did Olivia really ring up and ask?’ Chloe demanded of Charlotte in a fever of pride and joy.
‘Her mother did,’ Charlotte countered. Please god don’t let Olivia kick up when she found out.
‘Everyone’s Olivia’s friend,’ Chloe told Rick earnestly. ‘She’s the most popular girl in our class. I really like her. I think she should be my best friend.’ To Charlotte she said, ‘How do you make someone your best friend? Is there something you have to do?’
Smiling, Charlotte said, ‘It usually takes a bit of time getting to know one another first, and when you find you’ve lots of things in common and that you always get on well, it will happen all on its own.’
Frowning as she digested this, Chloe said, ‘Shall I tell her I want her to be my best friend?’
Aching for her, Charlotte gently cautioned, ‘Probably not just yet. See how it goes after Saturday first.’
With a wise-seeming nod, Chloe turned urgently back to Rick. ‘When can we start making my dress? I want it to be pale blue and white with lovely big wings and lots of sparkles and things.’
‘Then we should head on over to JJ Crafts in Hastings right now,’ he cried, standing aside to bow her out towards the car.
‘Thanks,’ Charlotte murmured, hugging him. ‘I probably wouldn’t have the time for it myself, or the skill.’
‘It’s my pleasure,’ he assured her. ‘I mean, dressing up as a fairy, I have to be your man.’
Laughing as he left, and loving how comfortable he was with his sexuality these days, given the difficult time he’d had coming out, she went to check on Rowan before heading back to the cellar door.
If the only significant date in Chloe’s future was going to Olivia’s on Saturday, how much easier Charlotte would have felt in her mind. However, there was the meeting with CYFS on Thursday to get through first, although whatever the outcome of that it really shouldn’t have any impact on the party. After all, they were hardly likely to remove Chloe from the family home based on a first meeting.
They’re not going to take her away, she told herself firmly. They’re just doing their job.
Knowing how intrusive, even aggressive these meetings could be was making her feel so wretched she could hardly think of anything else. Having been a social worker in child protection she knew very well what powers these people had, and how capricious or even illogical they could sometimes be in their judgements. Of course she was basing her fears on what she knew of rogue or lazy workers in the English system; she had no knowledge of how child protection operated in New Zealand. The CYFS website claimed its staff were passionate about caring for kids and supporting families, but they were hardly going to say otherwise, and anyway that statement alone could be interpreted in a hundred different ways. For instance, removing a child from the home could, in certain circumstances, be viewed as caring for it and supporting the family.
Reminding herself firmly that nothing like that was going to happen, she tried to focus her mind back on her work. There were no grounds for taking Chloe away, nothing at all to indicate abuse or neglect, the usual reasons for removing a child, and she must remember that the woman who was coming, Charlotte had her name written down somewhere, was simply carrying out a routine inspection. She wasn’t the enemy; she was on their side, Chloe’s most of all. She would see it as her duty to offer help and support if she felt it was needed, and to leave them alone if she didn’t.
The temperature had risen to over thirty degrees and the humidity was so intense it seemed to drip from the crowding tangles of foliage Zoe and Anthony were passing through. It was a relief, Anthony was finding, to be on this leafy trail with trees towering up around them creating a patchy barrier to the sun, and the sound of the river gushing along below seemed to add a sense of coolness even if it wasn’t real. The cicadas were as loud as he’d ever heard them, grating fiercely, industrious, incessant; birds flitted in and out of branches, vermilion, blue, golden. So many colours, but he had no names for the creatures themselves. This was something he should work on with Cooper, Chloe too if she was interested. There was a time when he’d felt certain Chloe would be, but he no longer felt certain of anything where she was concerned.
The prospect of the social worker’s visit passed uneasily through his mind; not the kind of scrutiny he’d ever imagined his family facing. On the other hand he’d never imagined being a parent to a child like Chloe. Still, he was ready to hope that this visit might help lead the way towards a more stable and controllable little girl who was happy and content in her world. It would no doubt be a long journey, but provided they were on the right road there would be reason to hope. Charlotte was doing her best, they all were, but with the demands of the vineyard taking up so much of his time, he was afraid that Chloe had got away from him and he couldn’t see a way of winning her back. It wasn’t something he’d even had to think about a couple of years ago when she’d laughed at all his jokes, been excited to tell him about her day, and seemed to love spending time with him. These days he hardly even knew what to say to her. If he were being honest, and over this he never would be with anyone but himself, there were times when he actually resented her for the chaos and unhappiness she’d brought to the home, especially to Cooper and Elodie. What kind of psychological da
mage were they suffering, having her as a sister?
Yet, in spite of how detached he felt from Chloe at times, it still affected him deeply to see how lonely and frustrated she was. No child should ever have to start out in life the way she had, he only wished there was a way to change it, but tragically there was no method of turning back time. What was possible, however, was finding ways to make her feel special, and he really must try harder with that.
Considering how difficult the meeting with CYFS was likely to be for her on Thursday, he decided it might give her spirits a boost if he suggested they had a family day out on Sunday. It was a long time since they’d managed such a treat, and he knew already where Chloe would choose to go, for Cape Kidnappers was one of her favourites. She became comically animated when riding the sea tractor to the end of the peninsula where they could watch the thousands upon thousands of gannets whose summer home was on the spectacular cliffs. He would ask her to tell them the story of how Cape Kidnappers had got its name, which he had to admit had slipped his mind for the moment, but she’d delight in being able to remind him. It was making him smile simply to think of her excitement, such a small and innocent pleasure to bring her world in line with that of other girls her age.
Catching a glimpse of Zoe as she climbed off the trail on to mossy boulders heading towards the waterfalls, he took out his phone to check for messages. Finding none he felt only relief. Messages almost always meant problems, and with no word from Charlotte he was happy to presume things were OK with the family. No word from Will encouraged him to believe that Will’s plan to be at the winery today, getting the first of last year’s vintage ready for transporting to Wineworks on Thursday, was going ahead. They’d both be there when the wine arrived for the pre-bottling testing but no one was foreseeing any hiccups there either, so the vats in the winery would be empty and the cleaning could begin in plenty of time for harvest.
Feeling beads of sweat running down his back, making his shirt cling to his skin, he regretted not bringing a hat, for the sun was fiery on his head in spite of the trees’ protection. Zoe was wisely wearing the hat he’d returned to her after Charlotte had thrown it at him. Just what the heck had Charlotte thought the thing was doing in the car? It wasn’t like she hadn’t seen it dozens of times before; Zoe almost always wore it, and as she regularly rode in the Volvo it was hardly a surprise that she’d left it behind when he’d dropped her off after dark.
The stress of everything was getting to them both, and there was no sign of a let-up in sight. He couldn’t remember the last time they’d made love, they were either too tired, or there was a child in the bed, or they were too angry with one another even to try. It was as though they’d lost interest in each other, were only together because they had to be for the children. More than once he’d felt certain Charlotte was about to give up, walk away and take the kids with her, and what would he be able to do to stop her?
‘So here we are! What do you think?’ Zoe called out above the roar of the falls. She was standing on a rock, her arms spread wide, her face turned triumphantly towards him as he stepped off the path on to a craggy boulder.
Though he’d been here before with Charlotte and the children, he hadn’t wanted to spoil Zoe’s surprise so had gone along with it, in spite of knowing as soon as they’d parked where they were heading. This small oasis, nestled deep in a tropical forest, was beautiful enough to take his breath away. Vast, glittering cascades of water tumbling wildly down the cliff face, succulent webs of vegetation and any number of shadowy enclaves hidden amongst the rocks. The lake swirling about the clearing had never looked so cool and inviting; it was taking every ounce of willpower to stop himself diving right in.
‘Isn’t it the most perfect place for the shoot?’ Zoe shouted. ‘We can put wine bottles on the rocks, with glasses and napkins and grapes … I’m still figuring out how to dress it. Frank the photographer will come up with lots of ideas when I email him the shots I take today. Can you see it? Is it speaking to you too?’
Yes, he could see the images she was trying to conjure, and was having no problem appreciating just how sensational the shots could be in the hands of a professional.
‘You’re not answering me,’ she told him.
Laughing, he said, ‘It’s perfect.’
‘Yay!’ she cheered, and almost slipped as she jumped in the air.
‘So, are you coming in?’ she challenged and without waiting for an answer she stripped off her top and shorts, stood naked for a moment, then made a perfect dive into the silky depths.
Anthony remained where he was, the image of her still burning his eyes, slaking its power as sharply as knives. Of course, he knew what this was about; had known since they’d left the car, but he’d refused to engage with it. He hadn’t turned back either. It wasn’t the first time she’d made herself available to him, but it had never been as explicit as this, and he had to admit that even that mere glimpse of her naked body was having a profound and unshakable effect on him.
She swam for several minutes and in spite of knowing he shouldn’t, he continued to watch. The clearing seemed strangely quiet, as though, like him, it was holding its breath. It felt almost dreamlike when she finally climbed, like a nymph, back on to the rocks and stood so he could see the whole of her as she shook out her hair.
Without looking his way, or speaking, she lay down on her back to dry in the sun.
More minutes ticked by. Zoe raised a knee and he couldn’t tear his eyes away. He knew exactly what he was going to do, but what he had no idea of yet was how much he was going to end up regretting it.
I’ve made a really stupid mistake and I don’t know what to do about it. I thought, last night, when I went online that I was using Anthony’s iPad, but it turned out I got mixed up and I was using mine instead. I was very upset at the time, although I can’t remember why now, I think I just felt like I needed to do something to pay everyone back for being horrible to me.
Luckily Mummy didn’t say anything about the chat room when she gave my iPad back just now, so maybe she didn’t really check it. Even if she did, at least it wasn’t the other chat room I found two nights ago when I was definitely using Anthony’s iPad. Mummy would have gone ballistic over that one, everyone would, but it’s nobody’s business if I want to be in touch with one of my creepy daddy’s friends. I expect I’ll get a lot more truth out of him than I will out of anyone else, or I would if he didn’t keep asking about me all the time, wanting to know what I’m wearing and stuff. What difference does it make?
Anyway, I’m not really interested in him now that Olivia’s going to be my best friend.
Charlotte was in the bedroom staring out at the night, a hand pressed to her mouth, an inexorable, sharp-edged thudding beating in her head as though all the terrible thoughts were colliding.
How wonderful it would be to have a mind uncluttered by fear, horror, guilt, regret – so many negative emotions she hardly knew what they all were.
The children were asleep, and Anthony had just arrived home. She could hear him calling her, and now he was climbing the stairs. He came into the room, but she didn’t turn round.
It startled her when he came to put an arm around her. ‘What are you doing?’ she asked, pulling away.
His eyes darkened. ‘What kind of question is that?’ he demanded. ‘I’m not allowed to put an arm round my wife?’
Flushing guiltily, she lowered her head. ‘I’m sorry … It’s just … It was unexpected, that’s all.’ Not the only thing that had been unexpected today, and she really wasn’t coping well.
‘And unwelcome, it would seem?’ he challenged.
She didn’t answer, because she didn’t know what to say.
‘Charlotte?’ he growled.
‘Please Anthony, not now.’
He stared at her so hard that she almost stepped away.
‘How has this happened?’ he asked gruffly. ‘Is it my fault? Have I done something?’
‘No, of course no
t …’
‘Then what the hell is it? There was a time when we could hardly keep our hands off each other, and look at us now. So where did it go wrong?’
She started to wave an arm towards the vines, towards Chloe’s room, but let it drop. Being anxious about harvests, stressed over sales, and parents of two very small children and one that was challenging had never got in the way before. If anything, working together, building a family, watching the business grow had made them closer than ever.
My husband has decided to move out for a while, Polly had blogged. He wants to take our youngest two with him, and I don’t know what to say to stop him.
Anthony’s eyes were harsh, penetrating and … knowing. ‘What is it?’ he demanded. ‘What aren’t you telling me?’
Charlotte’s mouth was too dry to answer.
‘Charlotte? I can …’
‘It’s nothing,’ she interrupted and started towards the bathroom. She couldn’t tell him the truth when she still hadn’t worked out how to deal with it herself, so in an attempt to change the subject she said, too brightly, ‘Good news. Chloe’s been invited to a party on Saturday. She’s over the moon. Rick’s helping her to make a fairy outfit.’
She could feel his eyes still on her, and for a long moment she thought he was going to speak. In the end he simply turned away and went downstairs.
Hardly thinking about what she was doing she went after him, and found him on the terrace with a whisky. ‘I’m sorry,’ she said shakily.
‘Me too,’ he muttered without looking at her.
She turned to stare out at the night, spotting eyes in the vines as rabbits came and went, hearing the flutter of birds in the jacaranda. ‘It’s just with all that’s going on …’
‘You don’t have to make excuses. If you don’t want to make love …’
‘It’s not that I don’t want to, it’s just …’ She couldn’t make herself say it.
‘Just what?’ he growled.
‘It seems … wrong while Chloe is in the house.’