Her alarm had gone off at five; her first shift was an early one. But at least then she’d be home to spend time with Louise in the afternoon and put her to bed. Zoe’s eyes filled with tears. She longed to be the one playing with Louise all day. She’d wanted to see her start to crawl, witness her first steps, hear her first words, help her develop and learn. Yes, Louise would be with Lachlan, but he didn’t seem to understand the amount of stimulation a baby needed to thrive. He would just let her play on the floor while he read the paper. Zoe swallowed down the lump in her throat. She was being ridiculous; Louise would be at home, safe with her dad. Anyway, Lachlan would find a job soon; this would only be temporary.
Zoe checked the bathroom door was closed, then took off her pyjamas and stood back, staring at herself in the mirror. Of course she didn’t look any different to how she had before she left work – she hadn’t been pregnant. She had no stretch marks on her stomach, and her breasts were still full. She should look more tired, but Louise slept well now; the bottle filled her up. It was ironic to wish that she looked more like a mum given the way that most mothers feel about their bodies after having babies. But she didn’t want any reason for people to notice that she hadn’t given birth to Louise; she wanted to blend in. Zoe clenched her fists: she had to stop thinking like this. When she’d had the miscarriages, she had sworn she would never complain about anything if only she could have a child. And now she had a gorgeous little girl, and she was the luckiest woman in the world; she couldn’t renegotiate the bargain she’d made with herself. She was only going back to work. Other mothers did it; so could she.
After showering, she raked around in the bottom drawer of the vanity and pulled out her hairdryer. She untangled the cord, then plugged it in next to the sink and switched it on the lowest setting so it didn’t disturb Louise. After drying her hair, she unzipped her make-up bag and put on a bit of foundation and mascara. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad today. It was important to teach Louise that women had careers too, that there was more to Zoe than, well, being a mother.
In the bedroom, Zoe kept the light off while she moved around quietly. Her eyes adjusted quickly to the dim light. She put on her uniform, which she’d ironed last night, then kicked her towel into the corner of the room, next to Lachlan’s t-shirt and boxers from yesterday. She resisted the urge to bundle them up and take them through to the laundry; that was Lachlan’s job now. Once she’d put her lanyard with her ID badge around her neck, she looked in the mirrored door of the wardrobe and smiled. Now that she was dressed, she knew what to do. She wasn’t a stay-at-home mum any more; she was a working mum. She should be – was – proud of that.
Out in the kitchen, she forced herself to swallow a few spoonfuls of cereal. She looked at the clock on the oven: she had to leave or she’d miss the bus. Closing her eyes, she forced herself to breathe slowly for a few moments, then tiptoed back down the hallway. She pushed open the door to the bedroom and whispered to Lachlan, ‘I’m off now.’
‘Hmm …’ he mumbled without opening his eyes.
‘Remember, Louise’s swimming lesson is at ten. I’ve packed her bag already, she just has to have a swim nappy on underneath her bathers, and try and get her to have a nap before she goes.’
He opened his eyes. ‘We’ll be fine, OK?’
‘I know.’ Zoe’s eyes began to prickle with tears again. ‘I’ve got to go.’
‘Come here’ He beckoned her over and gave her a hug. ‘Good luck today.’
‘Thanks.’ She sniffed and stepped away from him. ‘Please, just call me if you need anything. If I don’t answer my mobile then call the ward, they’ll get me.’
‘Zoe, we’ll be fine. Go on, you’ll be late.’
Zoe nodded. ‘Bye.’
She held onto the door for a moment more, then nodded again and closed it. She stared at Louise’s door, listening hopefully for a snuffle so she had an excuse to go in, but it was quiet. Anyway, it was best not to disturb her. Saying goodbye to her would be too much for Zoe this morning. She picked up her bag, purse and phone from the hallway table and stepped outside in the faint early morning light, then closed the front door quietly behind her.
Chapter Seventeen
Zoe opened her eyes as Lachlan crawled into bed beside her. She glanced at the alarm clock: it was after midnight. Zoe felt foggy, disorientated, woken from a warm dream that now floated away above her and dissipated. She’d gone to bed at nine with a book, and soon dropped off, but it was an uneasy sleep, interrupted by the sound of the television and, every so often, Lachlan getting up and opening the fridge.
Being back at work was tiring; she’d hoped it would rejuvenate her, but all it had done was add more pressure. She was worried about Lachlan – he wasn’t coping very well with being at home all the time with Louise. He managed to keep on top of things, but that was about all. She’d had to bite her tongue many times when she came home to find the washing unhung, or the floor unswept. She reminded herself that she’d had days like that when she was at home with Louise, and had bridled at his comments about the house being untidy. And she knew that Lachlan’s identity was entwined with being an engineer, not a stay-at-home dad. Maybe the distance that was growing between them was due to his feelings of shame as he saw his wife having to support the family. Women were always expected to put their professional identities aside for their families – why did it only seem to be a problem for men to accept this loss of their sense of self? But women, too, often defined themselves by their career; she’d done it herself, telling people, ‘I’m a nurse, but I’m on maternity leave.’ Zoe could rationalise their situation, but she knew that both she and Lachlan would be happier in their old roles.
The mattress shifted as Lachlan turned onto his side.
‘You OK?’ she whispered.
‘Yep.’ He yawned, hissing the exhaled air out between his teeth. Zoe screwed her eyes shut, irritation jangling through her. Why hadn’t he come to bed earlier? She had to get up at five, then Louise was up from six. Why did he stay up all night watching stupid television shows? Let it go, she told herself. Let it go. If he was tired during the day, it was his problem. She forced herself to breathe slowly and deeply, beginning to relax again and drift into sleep.
Suddenly, Lachlan jolted up from the bed. ‘No!’ he shouted.
Zoe jumped and gasped, wrenched from a deep sleep. She turned over quickly to look at him. In the dark bedroom, the outline of his heaving body was grainy and indistinct. He sat upright with his arms in front of his face, as if shielding it. Zoe heard a buzzing in her ears, a high-pitched throbbing like the whirr of a film reel.
She put her hand on his arm; it was damp with sweat. ‘Lachlan, what’s wrong? You’re OK, babe, you’re OK. It must have been a bad dream.’
His breathing slowed, but then he moved his hands onto his face and started sobbing. Zoe pulled him towards her.
‘Oh, Lachlan, what is it?’
‘Just leave me alone.’ His voice was thick; he sounded haunted.
Zoe switched on the lamp on her bedside table. Lachlan lay back down and turned away from her. He said nothing, though his back shook and every now and then he sniffed wetly. Zoe turned off the light again and moved over towards him, fitting her own body around the curve of his clammy back. She kept her arm around his chest until his shaking finally stopped and she was sure he was asleep.
* * *
When Zoe got home from work the next afternoon, she said nothing to Lachlan about the previous night, or about the dark shadows below his red-rimmed eyes, or the dishes piled up on the kitchen bench. She greeted him as usual, and hugged Louise, who at least was clean and happy and plump. Holding Louise on one hip, she picked up a mug from the kitchen table, tipped the cold coffee down the sink, then went to put it in the dishwasher, but it was still full of the clean dishes from when she’d put it on last night before bed. Zoe closed her eyes for a second, hoisted Louise further up on her hip and closed the dishwasher door with her foot.
; ‘Lachlan?’
‘Yeah?’ he shouted above the noise of the television.
‘I thought we could go out for an early dinner.’
‘Really?’
Zoe walked into the living room. ‘It’d be nice, don’t you think?’
He frowned. ‘It’s a bit hard, with Louise. We could just get takeaway.’
The thought of spending another evening tidying up and tiptoeing around Lachlan while he stared at the television was too much. ‘No, it’d be good to go out,’ she said.
Lachlan sighed. ‘OK.’
‘Well, don’t sound too excited about it.’ Zoe spun around and walked through to the bedroom with Louise. She was trying, she really was.
They parked right outside the restaurant. Zoe closed the passenger door and stumbled as her heel wobbled on the cobblestoned street. She had put on her tight jeans, heels, and a sheer short-sleeved blouse. She had even squirted on some perfume, but all it had done was make Lachlan sneeze.
While Lachlan stood waiting, Zoe opened the back door and leaned in to unbuckle Louise from her capsule. ‘Have you got the stroller?’
Lachlan sighed, then went to open the boot. ‘There won’t be any room in there.’
Zoe closed her eyes and made herself wait a few seconds before answering. ‘Yes there will, and it’s better than having her sitting on our lap the whole time.’
‘They’ll have high chairs.’
‘Lachlan, would you please just get the stroller, or else take Louise and I’ll get it?’
Zoe slammed the door shut, then kissed Louise’s forehead and smiled brightly as she walked to the restaurant. She held the door open while Lachlan pulled the stroller up the steps. In front of them was a big pizza oven; even though it was only six o’clock, there was already a queue of people waiting to collect their takeaway. To one side were refrigerated glass cabinets filled with tiramisu and panna cotta and pastries and cakes, and in the next compartment, stainless-steel containers of gelato.
The restaurant was more than half full already, almost all families. Zoe looked at Louise, and at Lachlan, and smiled. Yes, it was hard work taking Louise out to dinner, and maybe they wouldn’t be able to relax like they used to, but they were a family too, and this was what families did. She stood up taller as they followed a young dark-haired waiter to a table near the back of the room. Louise was waving her arms up and down and babbling, and Zoe knew people were admiring her.
As they reached their table, a waitress came straight over to them, bent down and smiled at Louise. ‘She’s beautiful. Do you want a high chair?’
‘Please.’
Lachlan manoeuvred the stroller behind the table, shaking his head. ‘So, why did we take the stroller?’ he asked. Zoe ignored him.
The waitress came back with the high chair and two laminated menus. ‘Can I get you some drinks?’
‘A beer, please,’ Lachlan said, scanning the drinks list. ‘A pale ale.’
‘And I’ll have a glass of …’ Zoe swiped her finger down the list of wines by the glass. ‘The pinot, please.’
‘Should we get a bottle?’ Lachlan said.
Zoe frowned. ‘Well, we have to drive, I can’t have more than a glass. Just have a glass when you’ve finished your beer.’
‘Nah.’ Lachlan looked up at the waitress again. ‘We’ll take a bottle of the pinot.’
Zoe frowned at him, but he didn’t look at her. When the waitress left, Zoe strapped Louise into the high chair. She started to whimper, so Zoe put her car keys on the plastic tray in front of Louise; she picked them up straight away and began chewing on the metal.
Once the waitress had brought their drinks and they’d ordered food, Zoe and Lachlan sipped their wine and beer, looking at Louise rather than each other.
‘So how are you finding being a house husband?’ Zoe said brightly, smiling at Lachlan.
‘Fine. It’s fine.’ He shrugged. ‘And how are you finding it being back at work?’
He was trying, even if it did sound like he was reciting a phrase learned in a foreign language class. She leaned back in her chair. ‘It’s OK. I mean, I enjoy it mainly, when I’m there. It’s hard, though, to leave Louise.’ Noticing Lachlan stiffen, she added, ‘But at least she’s at home with you.’
Lachlan nodded, then took a gulp of beer.
‘Any luck on the job front?’ Zoe picked up a bread stick from the canister that the waitress had put in front of her. She snapped it in half and gave a piece to Louise.
‘No. Not yet.’
‘That’s a shame. Is it just that they’re not advertising, or is there nothing that you want?’ Zoe dared to look up and meet Lachlan’s eyes.
‘I don’t know. There’s nothing that’s right yet. I am looking, you know?’
‘I know you are. It’s OK, I’m not trying to say anything, we’re fine for now. I was just …’ Zoe sighed. ‘Do you think there might be something else making it difficult?’
Lachlan frowned. ‘No. Like what?’
Zoe’s heart began to beat faster, but she had broached the topic, she couldn’t stop now. ‘It’s just, well …’ She leaned over the table towards him and spoke softly. ‘Something’s just not right, and I’m worried.’
‘What are you talking about?’ he said, sounding defensive.
Zoe sat back again. ‘I don’t know. It’s just ever since … well, ever since Louise was born, something’s changed in you.’
He shifted in his seat. ‘We’ve all changed, Zoe – how could we not? It’s not just been the usual “let’s have a baby” and we’re off. You’ve changed too.’
‘I’m sure I have, babe. I’m just wondering if we need to go and talk about things with someone.’ Zoe ran her finger round the base of her glass.
Lachlan was quiet. When Zoe looked up, his face was red, and he was blinking hard. ‘I’m OK.’ It was almost a whisper.
‘Are you sure?’ Zoe whispered back.
‘Yes.’
She nodded and sighed. ‘All right. But Lachlan – remember, I’m not the enemy, OK? I’m your wife, you can talk to me.’
Without looking at her, he picked up his beer and gulped it down.
‘Let’s just have a nice dinner then,’ she said. ‘Just the three of us.’
Zoe could see that he was trying. He relaxed a little as he drank a glass of wine, then another. When he was almost finished the third, she poured the rest of the bottle into her own glass. But he picked at his food and she knew his mind was somewhere else, not with them, and she couldn’t help but wish that they’d stayed at home.
* * *
On Saturday morning, Zoe went into the kitchen, still in her nightshirt, and smiled brightly. ‘What do you want to do today?’
Lachlan glanced up from the weekend papers spread over the table, then looked down at them again and sipped his coffee. He was wearing the shorts and singlet that he’d slept in. The newspaper rustled when he turned the page, and he flattened it with his hand as he shrugged.
Zoe persisted. ‘I have the day off, I want to do something as a family. It’d be nice, wouldn’t it? I feel like all we’ve been doing is working and getting through each day. Let’s go and have some fun.’
‘What do you want to do then?’ he asked flatly.
‘Anything! We could have a picnic in the park, go and visit someone, go to the swimming pool, the zoo …’
‘Who would we go and visit?’
Zoe shook her head. ‘Oh, I don’t know! Anyone! Your mum and dad? My parents?’
‘I spoke to Dad yesterday. Anyway, I can’t really be bothered talking to them, I’ve got nothing new to say.’
Zoe closed her eyes briefly. ‘Well, what else?’
Lachlan looked up, eyes flashing with irritation. ‘Fine, we’ll go to the zoo.’
‘You don’t have to say it like that.’
‘Are you ready then?’ His face set, he started shuffling the papers together.
Zoe stared at him, then held her nightshirt away from her b
ody with her thumb and forefinger. ‘Yes, sure, I’ll go like this. Of course I’m not ready! Are you?’
‘Yep. I’ve just got to change.’
‘No, there’s a lot more to do than that. We need to wake Louise from her nap, get her dressed, pack her bottle and some snacks, put the stroller in the car, get the sunscreen and hats …’
‘We’re not going into the bush, Zoe, it’s only the zoo.’
Zoe’s eyes stung with tears. Her shoulders slumped and she began to turn away, then she felt the anger surge through her. ‘Don’t be so bloody rude to me, Lachlan! You just sit there all day while I do everything. You don’t think I’d like to read the paper, to sit and have a coffee?’
He glared at her. ‘So why don’t you? Louise is asleep. Just sit down and read the bloody paper.’
‘Well, I can’t, can I? Have you even noticed that already this morning I’ve tidied up the breakfast things, emptied the dishwasher, washed and hung out a load of washing, fed and changed Louise and put her down to sleep —’
‘Fine!’ Lachlan shouted, slamming his palm down on the table. ‘Neither of us will read the paper.’ He put his hands on the edge of the table and pushed his chair back, the legs scraping across the floor.
‘Shh! For God’s sake, you’ll wake the baby.’
He shook his head at her, his jaw jutting. Zoe flinched. He’d never before looked at her with such contempt, and for a moment, she hated him too. She turned around and went back down the hallway to the bathroom, her hands shaking. So this was how it felt to watch your marriage unravel. She was trying to bring them all closer, but more and more she longed for the days when Lachlan used to work away. At least then they didn’t fight, and she didn’t cry every day. Involuntarily, she’d begun to imagine life without him, a future where it was just her and Louise, and it scared her to know how enticing it seemed. She cupped her hand over her mouth as if she could catch the unspoken thought before it could be sensed by Lachlan, or, worse, by Louise.
Let Her Go Page 16