by Liz Byrski
‘You could always do some opinions for us,’ Alec Seaborn had suggested when he visited her. ‘We could really use you. There’s so much you could contribute. You’ve been such a big part of it all for so long, it would be good to have you still involved.’ Perhaps that would be it, she thought, although it hardly fulfilled the need to give something back, but at least it would occupy her and give her a focus. She told him she’d think about it.
‘I think something will emerge,’ Sally said confidently, sitting on the end of her bed. ‘My mother used to say, “One door closes and another opens.” It’s just that sometimes the opening door takes a little while.’
‘You’ve become extremely philosophical.’ Robin grinned. ‘Bringing out the ancient wisdom in times of trouble.’
‘Well, I have reason for it,’ Sally said. ‘Not so long ago I was in the depths of despair, anger and frustration. Now look at me. Anyway, I brought you some Tim Tams. I’m sick of seeing you push your food around – get stuck into these.’ They sat munching their way through the biscuits in companionable silence for a while.
‘How long is Steve here for?’ Robin asked.
‘He has to leave at the end of August,’ Sally said. ‘As soon as he goes I’ll relet my place and go down to Albany. The Tranters are going to stay on for a while to give me some training in the shop before they go to Tasmania.’
‘And you think you’ll be okay down there all on your own?’
‘Why not? If you’d’ve been okay there on your own, why wouldn’t I be?’
‘It was my choice,’ Robin said. ‘An overwhelming passion made me buy it. It’s different for you.’
‘It’s my choice now,’ Sally said firmly. ‘A choice that will allow me to indulge my own overwhelming passion – as soon as he gets back. And the teaching job is fine for the new year. It’s a lovely school, I’m looking forward to it.’
And then there was Grace. ‘I know what you mean,’ she’d said. ‘I could probably find you some work to do on the patchwork project but I sense it’s not really your thing.’
Robin shook her head. ‘It’s not really. That doesn’t mean I don’t think it’s a wonderful project, just that it’s not really me. What’s more, this is your baby, Grace, you need to develop it in your own way. And you’re not responsible for finding work for me any more than you are for sorting out my living arrangements.’
Grace paused.’ You are sure about going to Isabel and Doug?’
‘Yes,’ Robin said decisively. ‘And I don’t want to see you in here again, Grace, until you can show me an airline ticket to New Orleans, New York and London, booked and paid for.’
Robin was sitting up in a chair, picking at a quite reasonable mild chicken curry with rice and watching the ABC television news, when there was a tap on the door and Alec’s new partner Diana Hooper popped her cheerful face around it. ‘Am I disturbing you?’
Robin, her mouth full of curry, shook her head and flicked off the television with the remote control. ‘Of course not,’ she said, swallowing hard. ‘Come on in and sit down, if you don’t mind me finishing my meal. It’s nice to see you again.’
Diana cleared some magazines off the other chair so she could sit. ‘It’s a bit of cheek, I know,’ she said, blushing slightly, ‘but Alec mentioned that you were looking for something to do and you might do some opinions for us.’ She pushed stray hair back behind her ears and took a deep breath.
‘Yes, he did mention it,’ Robin said, wary of what might be coming. ‘But I’d understand if you prefer me not to. After all, you’re there now. Sometimes an old business partner is not the most welcome person to have around.’
Diana blushed more deeply and looked flustered, the jacket of her dark suit straining across her large breasts. She shook her head. ‘Oh no, it’s not that at all. I’d be delighted and we can certainly do with your experience – you know how much work there is. It’s just that Alec said you talked about wanting to make a contribution and I thought, well, if you were looking for something different …’ Her voice wavered. ‘I mean, not if you don’t like the idea or anything …’
‘What, Diana?’ Robin asked, finishing her curry and pushing her plate aside. ‘What have you got in mind?’
‘Well, I’m involved with the Women’s Law Centre. I actually helped to set it up. You know we run on a shoestring, and we’re always desperate for experienced lawyers to prepare cases and provide opinions, but we can’t afford to pay.’
Robin felt a surge of excitement. ‘Go on.’
‘Obviously the women who come to us are in trouble – victims of domestic violence, some of them, others are having difficulty getting advice for divorce and custody settlements, some are women who’ve been charged with welfare fraud. You know the sort of thing – woman supporting her kids on a pension, new boyfriend moves in and doesn’t contribute anything, she keeps claiming the pension but the department thinks he’s supporting her.’
‘Yes,’ said Robin, so loudly she surprised both herself and Diana.
‘Sorry?’
‘Yes,’ said Robin. ‘I want to do it. It’s exactly what I want. Tell me what you need and I’ll do it. When can I start?’
‘I, er … I don’t think you’d be allowed to start yet, would you? I mean, the doctors …’
‘Okay, next week. When I get out. Will you come and see me and we’ll talk about how it’ll work?’
Diana grinned. ‘Absolutely. That’s fantastic. We can work it on email, of course, if that’s how you want to do it. Then, wherever you are, we’ll be in contact with you. You sure it’s okay, Robin? It won’t be too much for you?’
‘Too much?’ Robin smiled. ‘Diana, you’ll think I’m exaggerating, but I think you just saved my life.’
Isabel stood in the bedroom contemplating the rose-pink velvet chair. There was a time before she had left for Europe when she had felt it was a bad omen and she should replace it with something new. Now as she was preparing the second bedroom for Robin’s arrival, she decided that it might look nice in that room. She stood looking at the chair standing by the window as it had done for years, and realised that she didn’t want to move it. She had made such profound moves within herself that moving the chair was no longer necessary – in fact, she rather wanted it to stay where it was. She would find another chair for Robin’s room.
Doug looked in and, seeing her there, came over to sit on the bed. ‘How’s it going?’
‘Good,’ she said. ‘She’ll be comfortable in that room and she’ll have the second bathroom to herself.’
Doug nodded. ‘Good. I’m glad she’s coming. I’m looking forward to it. I’ve always liked Robin. And what are you up to in here?’
‘I was just looking at the pink chair. I was going to get rid of it but I’ve changed my mind. I rather like it.’
‘I sympathise with the chair,’ he said. ‘It and I have something in common.’
‘I was never going to get rid of you, Doug,’ she said, walking over to sit beside him. ‘I just needed things to be different between us.’
‘I know,’ he said, covering her hand with his. ‘I’m just playing for sympathy. You know me. You were right, Isabel. I couldn’t see it in Germany. I came home a complete mess, but there was only one way and that had to be up. Rather like having a new minister to cope with, new policy decisions, new priorities, new ways of working. I suppose I felt I could rise to the challenge or risk losing everything. It was hard in Germany. I thought it was the end.’
‘I love you to bits, you know. I was never leaving you. But I’d reached a point where things had to change. Things between us.’
He nodded. ‘I know that now, but I didn’t when I left, and when I got back here I went into this huge rage. In the end it was Deb who laid it out in black and white. She was pretty brutal with me. I went there looking for sympathy – hah! She told me I was very complacent, and demanding. She virtually told me to grow up and get my act together. Bit confronting from one’s daughter.’
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br /> Isabel leaned forward and kissed him, holding his face between her hands, and he put his arms around her and pulled her down to lie beside him on the bed. ‘It wasn’t all your fault,’ she said. ‘I colluded in all that, I let it happen and then suddenly I started to see it and resent it.’
They lay side by side, holding hands. ‘You know,’ he said, ‘I was thinking that life had suddenly become so turbulent and uncertain over the last year, and then I thought that beside Eunice and Eric, and Antonia and Klaus, we’re positively dull and boring.’
She laughed. ‘Exactly! Isn’t it all amazing? Who’d ever have believed all that was hidden away behind Mum and Eric’s life. It seems so bizarre and yet it explains so much. But I still wish I’d known while she was alive. I don’t think I’ll ever stop wishing that.’
Doug pulled himself up onto his elbow and looked down into her face. ‘Well, in a way you’ve recaptured something of the real Eunice. You can hang on to that. And look what you achieved – Klaus and Antonia coming here together for Christmas!’
Isabel smiled, putting her hand up to stroke his cheek. ‘I know. Isn’t it wonderful? Maybe they’ll get married again and live happily ever after!’
Doug laughed. ‘I think you should just settle for the visit. From what you’ve told me, Klaus and Antonia seem very happy with the status quo. I don’t think they’re going to go over that old ground again.’ He bent his head, kissing her lightly on the lips. ‘I love being dull and boring with you, Iz. I’m so glad you’re back.’ And he kissed her again as she put her arms around his neck and pulled him down onto the bed.
Grace stared once again at her ticket. She’d been sure she wouldn’t be able to go ahead and fix it before Robin’s arrangements were all in place. It was good that Robin had moved to Isabel’s place. It certainly made it easier but she still worried about what the next stage would be, and how it would feel to get on a plane without some sort of resolution about Robin’s future. She was restless for the hospital corners to be neatly tucked in. But at least she’d made the decisive move of booking her flight.
‘Good on you,’ Sally said as Grace helped her get the townhouse ready again for more tenants. ‘It’s only six weeks and you’ll be off.’
Grace finished wiping out the cutlery drawer and put the knives and forks back in place. ‘Sometimes I can’t believe it’ll really happen,’ she said. ‘Orinda says we’re going to sing in this piano bar in New Orleans where she’s been going for years. Can you imagine it, me singing in a bar?’
Sally laughed as she straightened saucepans in the cupboard over the stove. ‘What I wouldn’t give to be a fly on the wall, Grace. And then on to do big business in New York?’
Grace picked a laptop off the workbench. ‘This is Robin’s, isn’t it?’
‘Yes, the doctor came in while I was there and made me take it away while she was still in the hospital. He says she’s not supposed to have it for at least a month, she’s not allowed to work. I think it’s stupid. She’s been out of hospital for ten days and she’s getting frustrated and irritable. She needs to do something.’
Grace considered for a moment. ‘I think you’re right – she’s really keen to get onto the women’s law stuff. Why don’t we take it around there when we finish here?’
‘Good idea.’ Sally closed the cupboard and leaned back against the worktop. ‘Grace? What’s going to happen? To Robin, I mean.’
‘I don’t know – we haven’t found a solution yet.’
‘I don’t mean about where she’ll live. I mean what’s it going to be like for her? Is she … is she going to die?’
‘I don’t know, Sally. The prognosis isn’t optimistic. It’s extremely rare for people to survive this for more than a few months, or a year at most. The future doesn’t look good. She’ll slowly get worse, weaker, nauseous, she won’t be strong enough to do much at all.’
‘It seems so unfair,’ Sally said. ‘A year ago we were all cruising along with our lives and then all this change, and so much happiness for me, a whole new direction for you, Isabel really seeming calm and peaceful – and Robin’s lost everything. Doesn’t it make you want to know why things happen like this?’
Grace raised her eyebrows. ‘You’ve had your share, your challenge and personal crisis in this last year,’ she said. ‘We all did in our own different ways. When I look back at it I think we all had things we needed to learn and, strangely, we chose to do things that forced us to learn very quickly.’
‘Yes, but you can’t say that about Robin. What’s a terminal illness supposed to teach her?’
‘I know,’ Grace agreed. ‘Or rather, I mean I don’t know. I don’t understand it either, Sally. It does seem totally unfair, really cruel and meaningless.’
Robin, wrapped in a cotton blanket, lay on a lounger on the deck looking through half-closed eyes across the rooftops to where the sun hovered crimson and gold above the horizon. Twenty minutes earlier she had been looking for something to occupy her, and Doug had suggested she take a look at the legal implications of a new policy document and give him her opinion on it. She had swept enthusiastically through the first eight or ten pages, jotting notes in the margin, fired up by having something useful to do, but now she was tired. She put down the papers and leaned back. Would her energy and concentration always burn out so quickly? If it did, she wasn’t sure how much use she’d be to the Women’s Law Centre. What had seemed such a wonderful idea while she was in the hospital now seemed to swamp her with its enormity.
She had been out of hospital for three weeks and was questioning if she really would be able to work again. She wondered if she would always feel like an invalid, or if there would be days when she felt normal and healthy again. She sighed deeply. Perhaps she should just rest a while and try to work out some solution for her living arrangements. She really couldn’t impose on Isabel and Doug for too much longer. Back at the other end of the house she heard the front doorbell ring and the steady plod of Doug’s sock-clad feet on the polished boards of the passage. Robin hoped it wasn’t anyone to see her. She just wanted to close her eyes and sleep.
‘Come in, come in,’ Doug said. ‘Isabel just popped out to get some milk. She’ll be back any minute.’ He drew Father Pat inside. ‘Robin’s asleep on the deck. Come into the kitchen and have a drink.’
‘I’d love to,’ Father Pat said, ‘but I’ve got a friend with me. Could I bring her in too?’
‘Sure, of course,’ Doug said, opening the door wider and looking out into the street. An unlikely looking young woman dressed in black leather with spiky blonde hair was leaning against Father Pat’s car. ‘That’s your friend?’ Doug asked, raising his eyebrows.
‘It is indeed.’ Father Pat grinned and beckoned Josie into the house. ‘A friend of mine and an old friend of Robin’s. I think she’ll be pleased to see Josie.’
Doug took them through to the kitchen and opened a bottle of wine while Josie looked around in approval. ‘So, how do you know Robin?’ he asked her, carefully drawing the cork.
‘I was a client – a legal aid client.’ Josie grinned. ‘A fallen woman – Robin picked me up!’
‘Then you must be Josie,’ said a voice from the doorway, and Isabel walked in with a litre of milk. ‘Robin’s told me all about you.’ She walked over to shake hands and then impulsively they hugged each other.
‘How is she?’ Josie asked.
‘Up and down,’ Isabel said, putting the milk in the fridge. ‘More often down than up. She has real highs and lows, and the extremes are hard on her.’ Isabel turned to Doug. ‘Is Robin still out on the deck?’
‘Yes, she’s asleep. I thought we might leave her for another ten minutes or so. She ran out of steam rather suddenly.’
Isabel nodded then looked at Josie and Father Pat. ‘Why don’t you stay for dinner? There’s heaps, and Grace and Sally are coming over soon.’
Josie looked towards Father Pat and raised her eyebrows. ‘He’s the boss man!’
‘Ha! That
’ll be the day. But thanks, Isabel, that’d be delightful if it’s not too much trouble.’
‘Let me help,’ Josie said, slipping off her jacket. ‘Kitchens are my thing.’
‘Oh, of course,’ said Isabel. ‘Well, make yourself at home. Could you start on the salad?’
The two men sat on stools at the bench drinking their wine while Isabel got out plates and cutlery, and Josie rummaged through the fridge. ‘I may have a solution for Robin,’ Josie said, scoring through the skin of an avocado and easing the flesh away from the stone. ‘Can I try it out on you first?’
‘Of course,’ Isabel nodded.
‘My partner Dawn and I have this place in Pemberton.’
‘Yes, Robin told me about it. It sounds beautiful.’
‘Well, we have a small cottage in the grounds, separate but quite close to the main building. It’s fully furnished and equipped. We’ve let it occasionally to guests who want a self-catering arrangement for a few weeks, but most of the time it stands empty and we keep telling each other we ought to make better use of it. When Father Pat told us about Robin we – Dawn and I – thought maybe she’d like to live there. She could be independent but – well, you see, we’re always there, we could put in an intercom in case she needed us in a hurry, stuff like that. She’d have her own place but there’d be someone close by. There’s always somebody there – even if we’re out, one or two of the staff are always around. She could cook for herself when she wanted to or just call on the intercom for a meal. It would be easy for us, because there’s two of us and we have help, so it means it wouldn’t all fall on one person.’