Those Faraday Girls

by Monica McInerney

  ‘It’s fine.’

  ‘Are you sure?’

  She was sure. It made it even more illicit, the feel of him without protection. They made love three times that night, all in the dark. She initiated it the second and third times, speaking in a low voice, telling him exactly what she was going to do, describing a scenario: her waking up in her hotel room to discover she wasn’t alone, reaching out and feeling him on the side of the bed, her fright turning to desire as she felt his body, felt his lips on her skin, all touch and no talking…

  ‘You’ve got quite an imagination, haven’t you?’ he said afterwards as they lay on the bed, smoking cigarettes.

  ‘I’m surprising myself,’ she said honestly. It was becoming very good between them. She was only barely letting herself admit it, but she very possibly was the slightest bit in love with him. It was all hypothetical, of course. He had a wife. Children. He was fifteen years older than her. He lived in a different state. Her father would be appalled, not to mention her sisters. But being with him made her feel bold and free and —

  ‘Miranda, your turn to set the table.’ It was Juliet, calling from the kitchen.

  Being with Tom made her feel everything she wasn’t while she lived in this house.

  ‘Coming,’ she called. She had five more years of this? It felt like a prison sentence. The sooner that child of Clementine’s was born and off to school, the better.

  Across town, Eliza was lying on a hard mattress on the floor of a badly lit room on the second floor of an ordinary office block.

  ‘Harder, Eliza, harder,’ the man said.

  Eliza was panting, sweat all over her body. ‘I can’t,’ she breathed.

  ‘You can. One more time. Come on.’

  She lifted the weights above her head, held them for three arm-shaking seconds and then brought them to the floor, barely keeping control.

  ‘Good girl. Told you you could do it.’ Her coach, Mark, took the weights from her and returned them to the stand. Seven years older than her, muscled, tanned and fair-haired, he had been training Eliza for nearly eighteen months.

  ‘And nearly killed myself in the meantime.’ She moved across the mattress away from the weights and sat up, reaching for her towel to wipe the sweat from her face.

  ‘Now the run,’ he said. ‘Then I have a proposition for you.’

  ‘Tell me now.’

  ‘Run three kilometres first.’

  ‘You’re a slavedriver, not a coach.’

  He smiled the slow smile, the one that had got her into his thrall when she first joined his running group. They often travelled around the State together, competing in amateur meets.

  ‘Shame he’s got a wife,’ Miranda had said once, after spotting him at one of the events. ‘I mean, he’s not my type – all that brawn, and his shorts are too tight – but you’re the perfect couple. Ever thought about an affair?’

  Eliza hadn’t met her sister’s gaze. The last thing she wanted was for Miranda to guess her secret. She’d been in love with Mark since she’d met him. ‘He’s a married man with two children, Miranda.’

  ‘That why it’s called an affair, Eliza. If he was single, it would be called a relationship.’

  ‘Come on, Faraday,’ Mark said to Eliza now. ‘The sooner you get going, the sooner you’ll be back.’

  Eliza was smiling as she ran down the stairs and out into the street. She breathed in deeply as the cold air hit her and then headed down the road. She did the three-kilometre run through the streets in thirteen minutes, a little faster than her average.

  He was waiting with the stopwatch as she came up the stairs. At this time of night, they had the gym to themselves. He handed her a drink and talked her through her stretches.

  ‘Okay, what’s the proposition?’ Eliza asked when they finished.

  ‘You do have a one-track mind.’

  ‘You’re the one who taught me to be focused. I focused on the run, now I’m focused on your proposition.’

  ‘I have to ask you some questions first.’

  She lowered herself on to the mat. ‘Go on.’

  ‘Do you love living in Hobart?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Could you leave?’

  ‘Not yet. Not while I’m studying. And I’ve made a commitment to Clementine to stay until her baby is at school.’ After the original shock of the news, Eliza had realised the promise they’d all made to Clementine worked in her favour. She’d already been working to a three-year plan. She’d simply changed it to five years. She’d enrolled in extra courses at university. She’d signed up for a long-term netball coaching stint. She’d also made a personal goal of competing in – and winning – the State-wide cross-country championships for at least three consecutive years. If she was going to be living at home and staying in Hobart, she was going to make use of every moment.

  ‘After that, then. Looking into the future. Could you leave?’

  ‘Of course, if the situation was right.’

  ‘Would you miss your family?’

  ‘Very funny.’

  ‘I’m serious.’ He sat down beside her. ‘Eliza, I’m moving to Melbourne and setting up my own fitness company. I know it’s a few years off for you, but I want you to think about coming to join me when you’ve finished your degree.’

  Eliza ignored the second part of his question for the moment. ‘You’re moving to Melbourne? Just like that?’

  He nodded.

  ‘And what does your wife think?’

  ‘I don’t know. It won’t really affect her. She’s fallen in love with another man and we’re splitting up.’

  Eliza blinked. ‘Are you joking? What about your boys?’

  ‘I get weekends. Once a month.’

  ‘You can’t leave Hobart then.’

  ‘I have to. I don’t want to be here. It’s a bit awkward.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘The man she’s fallen in love with is my cousin.’

  ‘Your cousin?’ She stared at him. ‘And I thought I had trouble with my family.’

  ‘You? The Waltons? The happiest family in Hobart? You know what people say about you all: “Those Faraday girls are so wonderful, so loyal —”’

  She ignored that. ‘I’m sorry, Mark.’ She was lying. She wasn’t sorry.

  ‘Thank you.’

  ‘But are you serious about this? Moving to the mainland, offering me a job? This far off?’

  He explained in more detail. Everyone knew that the future was in tailored individual programs. ‘My plan is to get work in a gym to begin with, suss out the market before I take the plunge with my own business. I want to target both sexes and research shows female clients prefer female trainers. So I’m booking you in early. I’ve given it a lot of thought. We already train well together. I like your attitude, your determination. I think we would work well together too.’

  ‘It’s a long way off. I’d have to think about it.’

  ‘Good, I’d expect you to.’ He stood up. ‘You didn’t answer my question about your family, though. If you could bear to leave them.’

  Eliza stood up too. She wasn’t smiling any more. ‘I can’t wait to get away from them.’

  By the time Miranda finally came back inside, Juliet had finished setting the table.

  ‘Thanks so much for your help,’ Juliet said.

  ‘I’m sorry, I fell into a trance looking at the stars. At least leave the centrepiece for me, would you?’ She reached up past Juliet to the cupboard above the stove and pulled out a bundle of fake holly left over from the most recent July Christmas celebration. The Faradays celebrated Christmas twice a year, a summertime one in December, and a winter one in July. It had been another of their mother’s ideas. ‘Midweek dinner, no need to go to too much fuss,’ Miranda said, pushing the holly into a jar.

  Juliet looked up from the stove. ‘Did you have to be so mean to Sadie before?’

  ‘Yes, I did,’ Miranda replied, taking down the water glasses and putting those by the placem
ats. ‘Because Sadie can be a mean little sneaking cow sometimes. Please don’t talk about her. I’m trying to work up an appetite, not make myself nauseous. How are things at work? Still cooking up a storm in that café of yours?’

  Juliet quelled her temper. She hated the patronising way Miranda spoke about the café, as if working in a pharmacy was any more worthwhile. At least Juliet made something, fed people. All Miranda did was wear a white dress and spray perfume around.

  ‘Everything’s fine, thanks.’

  ‘What’s up with you?’

  ‘Nothing.’

  ‘You suddenly turn into the Ice Queen and then you won’t tell me what’s wrong? For God’s sake, what is it with you and Sadie tonight?’

  ‘What is it with us? Ever wonder whether you and your behaviour might be the recurring theme here?’

  ‘Forget it, Juliet. You want to set yourself up as the great martyr, the wise woman of the house, you go right ahead. But spare me the lectures, would you?’

  ‘What are you two talking about?’ It was Sadie back again, wearing a sulky expression.

  Miranda spun around, her eyes flashing. ‘Do you know, Sadie, if I was asked to list your ten most annoying habits, and believe me, I’d have no trouble finding ten, your infuriating bloody nosi-ness would be number one. You want to know what we were talking about? It is None of Your Business. And before you have another go at me as well, Juliet, save your energy. You need it for your mother act. Please don’t worry about my dinner tonight. All of a sudden I’ve decided I’m going out.’

  ‘Where?’

  ‘Out. I’m a bit short of spending money, Sadie, so a quick hour’s work in the hotel should fix me up, wouldn’t you say?’ She stalked out of the room.

  Three minutes later they heard the front door slam.

  ‘It’s all true,’ Sadie said. ‘I’m not making it up.’

  Juliet didn’t answer. She didn’t want to know if it was true or not.

  Three streets away, Clementine and David were sitting in a small café near the cinema. They’d met for a coffee after school, been to see a film and were now about to have supper and a hot chocolate together. She’d known since they met that evening that there was something on his mind. She wasn’t surprised when he finally stumbled his way towards his news.

  He almost babbled in his attempt to tell her everything. She half-listened. She felt ten years rather than ten days older than him sometimes. She knew girls were more mature than boys but she was surprised sometimes how obvious boys were. And at that moment, she realised, how boring.

  ‘I got a letter from Melbourne University yesterday and I’ve been trying to think of the best way to tell you, ask you, I mean…’

  She had thought herself in love with him. She’d made a considered decision to sleep with him. She’d wanted to discover sex in a good situation, not in the back of a car, like one of her friends. It had been lovely between her and David. Romantic. He’d lit candles in his bedroom and ‘borrowed’ a bottle of champagne from his parents’ wine cellar. He presented it to her, with a red rose in a glass vase. They had laughed a lot, especially when neither of them could get the cork out of the champagne bottle. He’d kissed her first, or had she kissed him? They’d taken their clothes off, item by item, until they were both naked under the sheets. More laughing, lying tangled up in each other, looking up at the football posters on his wall. It was awkward at first but she’d loved the feeling of being so close to him. She was cross at herself for miscalculating the safe dates. She had intended to go on the pill but it hadn’t seemed necessary the first time. What were the chances of that, after all? Very high, the doctor had told her later.

  ‘… I applied for this mathematics course months ago. It’s the best in the country and I could defer. You know I want to be around as much as I can. If you want me to turn it down —’

  It wasn’t her decision. If he’d considered leaving, then his mind was already made up. ‘It’s up to you.’

  ‘How can you be so calm?’

  That’s just the way she was. Her father often commented on it at home. ‘Clementine, being with you is like being on my own, and I mean that in the nicest possible way. You are the most soothing member of the human race I have ever met. Forget these half-hearted attempts at inventions and world domination. If I could bottle you, I’d make a fortune.’ Her school reports said the same thing: ‘Clementine’s steady approach to her studies is to be applauded. A mature, good-tempered member of the school community.’ She often wondered whether it was because she was fifth in the family. Calm was the only character trait left for her. Juliet was hardworking. Miranda dramatic. Eliza determined. Sadie anxious. Clementine calm. There they were, in a nutshell. Mature beyond her years. Losing her mother would make any little girl grow up, she knew that was what people said about her. Old beyond her years, her father described her.

  Beside her, David was still tripping over himself to explain, to apologise, to promise that he would always be there for her.

  ‘It’s all right, David. Really.’ She stopped him with a touch to the arm. ‘I don’t mind.’

  ‘I’ll always love you.’

  ‘You might not. You might meet someone else.’

  ‘Will you be all right?’

  ‘I don’t know yet.’ Clementine had never been able to lie to make other people feel better.

  ‘I’ll get back to Hobart as often as I can.’

  ‘You don’t have to.’

  ‘It’s my baby too.’

  ‘Yes, I know.’

  ‘I want to be as involved as I can.’

  ‘I know you do.’

  She could practically see the relief coming off him now that he’d broken his news. There were lots of things she could say. Point out the facts, to begin with. How could he be involved when he was living in another state? Nappy changing, middle-of-the-night feeding, clothes washing – all of that was out of the question. She had a mental picture of visits in years to come, him awkwardly holding his child. Birthday cards and hastily bought presents arriving days or weeks late. None of it bothered her.

  She’d thought about it for a long time, since the day she realised her period was late. She’d kept the news to herself quite deliberately, wanting time to think things through. By the time everyone knew she had felt sure in her head. More than sure. Content. Even excited. As if this was all meant to be. And once she had decided that, and pictured herself with a baby, in the house, with her father and her sisters around her, she had discovered David was not appearing in her mental pictures. She never imagined the two of them strolling along the waterfront, pushing a pram. Setting up house together. Shopping. Sitting under a Christmas tree watching their child unwrap presents. It dawned on her slowly. She would never say it to him, or even to her own family, but she could think of no place in her life for him.

  He took her in his arms, awkwardly, uncomfortable with her rounded body and the eyes of the couple on the opposite side of the café who were clearly eavesdropping.

  ‘I’ll always love you,’ he said again. ‘And if you ever need anything…’

  She hugged him back. ‘Thank you, David. For everything.’ If he noticed she hadn’t said she would always love him too, he didn’t mention it.

  Clementine arrived home just before nine. Juliet looked up from her book as she heard the front door open. She was alone in the living room. Sadie was in the kitchen, noisily washing the dishes.

  ‘You look comfortable,’ Clementine said, noticing the fire, the book and the thick socks on Juliet’s feet.

  ‘Middle-aged before my time, you mean? How was your date?’

  ‘The film was far-fetched but good. The chocolate ice-cream was lovely. And David and I split up.’

  Juliet pushed the book aside. ‘You what?’

  Clementine reported the conversation. ‘I knew he was interested in that course. And he had to do what’s right for him, the way I —’ Her expression suddenly changed, from serious to a big smile. She put her ha
nd on her belly. ‘She’s moving.’

  ‘He is?’ They liked switching between the sexes. ‘Can I feel?’

  Juliet put her hand on Clementine’s belly, and Clementine put her hand on top of Juliet’s. They both felt a little movement, a tiny push against her skin, a pause, and then a stronger movement. Two smiles.

  ‘It’s body language from the baby,’ Clementine said. ‘Telling me not to worry.’ She settled into the chair opposite Juliet and put her feet up on the low table.

  Where were the tears? Juliet wondered. ‘Aren’t you a little bit upset? The father of your child telling you he is disappearing? Your first great love affair ending?’

  Clementine was thoughtful for a moment. ‘I can’t explain it, but it all feels as though it is happening the way it should. It would have been harder somehow if he was staying around. This is cleaner in a way.’ A pause. ‘Do you mind about this, Juliet?’

  ‘Mind?’

  ‘It’s out of order, isn’t it? You’re the oldest. You should be the one getting married first, having the baby first.’

  ‘Fortunately you’ve ruined everything by having the baby without getting married. Anyway, I don’t think there is some predetermined plan, is there?’

  ‘In nature I think there is,’ Clementine said.

  ‘Nothing natural about this family.’

  ‘It will change everything, won’t it?’

  ‘In good ways,’ Juliet replied.

  ‘In other ways too.’

  ‘What was it like, Clemmie?’

  ‘What?’

  ‘Sex.’

  ‘Juliet! You’re older than me. I should have been asking you.’

  ‘What are you talking about?’ They spun around. It was Sadie.

  ‘Nothing,’ Juliet said.

  ‘Sex,’ Clementine told her.

  ‘Can I join in?’

  Clementine shut her eyes. ‘No. I’m never doing it again. It got me into enough trouble the first time.’

  CHAPTER THREE

  Maggie Tessa Faraday arrived at nine minutes past four on the afternoon of the eleventh of February, 1980. Seven and a half pounds. Black hair. A touch of jaundice but otherwise in perfect health.