‘Myles, you gave me a fright,’ said Helen, her heart racing at the sight of him, which probably had nothing to do with the fright.
‘Sorry, I didn’t mean to.’
‘What are you doing here? How did you know where to find me?’
He took a couple of steps towards her. ‘I dropped by your place earlier; you’d just left apparently. Gemma told me you were visiting your mum at Brookhaven. It wasn’t that hard to find.’
Helen was staring at him, finding herself a little mesmerised.
‘I’m sorry if I’m intruding . . . I just wanted to see you, Helen.’
She stirred. ‘I don’t think it’s such a good idea, Myles.’
‘Well I disagree.’
‘I’m sorry?’
‘I disagree, and I’m part of this, so I have a say, don’t I?’ He didn’t wait for an answer. ‘I miss you, Helen. I miss seeing you at work, I miss talking to you. You swept me off my feet and now you’ve abandoned me. I didn’t think you’d be the cruel type.’
Helen could see the glint in his eye. ‘You said you were romantic, Myles, not melodramatic.’
‘I also told you I wasn’t going to give up,’ he said, taking another step closer to her.
‘This is not the time or the place, Myles. I’m here to visit my mother.’
‘Can I come with you?’
She frowned. ‘Why on earth would you want to do that?’
‘She’s your mother: I’d like to meet her.’
Helen put her hand on her hip, looking at him. ‘You’re intent on making this difficult, aren’t you?’
‘I’m intent on making it difficult for you to ignore me.’
She breathed out. ‘Fine, you can meet her. It won’t mean anything to her, so you won’t be scoring any brownie points.’
He followed her into the main building and through the maze of corridors till they got to Marion’s room. Helen went in first. ‘Hello, Mum, how are you today?’
Marion turned her head to frown at Helen; she didn’t seem cranky so much as curious. She glanced past Helen to Myles, who was hanging back near the door. And the frown began to fade from her face.
‘Who’s that?’
Myles came forward to stand beside Helen.
‘This is Myles Davenport,’ said Helen. ‘He’s a . . . friend of mine.’
‘How do you do, Mrs Zelinsky,’ said Myles.
‘Oh, young man, you’re very polite,’ said Marion in her girlie voice. ‘But you have to call me Marion.’
‘If you insist,’ he said.
‘Sit down, sit down,’ said Marion.
Myles glanced at Helen and she nodded, walking around to the other side of the bed. He pulled up a chair and sat down.
‘So are you a doctor, Mr Davenport?’ Marion asked.
‘Now, Marion, it’s only fair, you have to call me Myles.’
‘Okay, Myles,’ she said, almost blushing. ‘So are you a doctor?’
‘No, I’m not,’ he said. ‘I used to be, but I gave it up.’
‘Why would you do that, a handsome young man like yourself?’
Helen had no idea what that had to do with being a doctor but it obviously made some kind of sense to Marion. She smiled faintly at Myles from across the bed.
‘And tell me, are you married, Myles?’ Marion was asking now.
‘No, not yet,’ he said.
‘You know, I have a daughter you might like to meet.’ Helen held her breath.
‘I know your daughter, actually,’ said Myles.
Marion looked surprised. ‘You do? She doesn’t get out much. I don’t know why she’s always hanging around the house.’
The staff had told Helen that Marion often talked about her, but she had always thought they were simply being kind. Her mother never recognised her, but perhaps she only knew the daughter that existed in the deep recesses of her mind, ‘stuck on rewind’ as Tony had put it.
‘So tell me, what do you think of her?’
‘I think she’s very beautiful,’ said Myles, glancing across at Helen.
‘Well, you know,’ Marion confided, ‘people say she looks like me when I was her age.’
‘I can certainly see the resemblance.’
‘You should get to know her,’ Marion said wistfully. ‘She’s a good girl.’
A single tear escaped from Helen’s eye, running swiftly down her cheek.
‘She’s a wonderful girl,’ Myles said, gazing straight at Helen. ‘And you know what, Marion? I’m very much in love with her.’
‘Well, I hope you get on and do something about it. She’s not much of a go-getter, my Helen. Needs a bit of a push.’
Later, after they had left her room and walked back through the corridors and out into the sunshine again, Myles turned to Helen. ‘Looks like I have your mother’s blessing.’
‘She’ll have forgotten by tomorrow,’ said Helen. ‘By this afternoon.’
‘She seemed like a pretty wise woman to me.’
‘Except she didn’t know it was me standing right beside her.’ Helen glanced at him sideways. ‘You know, I might get Alzheimer’s one day: there’s some evidence it’s genetic.’
‘You also might get hit by a bus.’
She turned abruptly to look at him.
‘But I’m willing to take my chances,’ said Myles, coming closer. ‘I know you’re scared, Helen, but I’ve also seen what you can do when you put your mind to it. Like your mum said, you just need a little push sometimes.’
Helen could feel her throat tightening. She did not want to go to pieces out here in the carpark; she had to keep it together. Or maybe fleeing was the best option. ‘I have to get going –’
‘Wait, Helen, there’s another reason I wanted to see you today,’ said Myles. ‘I thought you should know they’ve chosen a permanent managing director to head up Bailey’s. There’s a board meeting tomorrow where he’ll be introduced to key staff. Hand-over will take place across the next week or two. By the way, I’ve made sure you and Gemma will be kept on under the existing arrangement.’
But Helen wasn’t listening any more. ‘So does this mean . . . you’ll be going back to Melbourne?’ she asked in a small voice.
‘That all depends,’ he said, looking at her steadily. ‘Ball’s in your court, Helen.’
She was just staring at him.
‘I have to go,’ he said. ‘But I want to leave you with something to help you decide.’
Before Helen knew what he was doing he’d pulled her into his arms and was kissing her soundly, putting forward a pretty compelling argument. He eventually drew back enough to look in her eyes, still holding her close. ‘Keep that in mind, okay?’ he said softly, before releasing her.
Helen felt a little light-headed, watching him walk away towards his car. He turned to wave. ‘I’ll wait to hear from you then,’ he called before he climbed into the driver’s seat. Helen was still standing, rooted to the spot, as he drove past her and out of the carpark.
She was still feeling a little light-headed when she pulled up in front of Jim and Noreen’s about ten minutes later. She was going to ask them if they could pick up Noah from preschool and occupy him for a couple of hours. She’d promised Gemma she’d stick around for moral support when Luke came, and besides, Helen wanted to keep Noah out of the line of any potential fire.
Jim and Noreen’s place was between Brookhaven and home, so Helen had decided it was just as easy to call in on her way through. But as she walked up the pristine concrete path, past the precision-clipped lawn towards the immaculate but austere facade of the house, her stomach began to churn uncomfortably. What if they could tell? What if she looked different? She’d slept with another man. She had made passionate love, the likes of which she’d never had with their son, with a man they had never even clapped eyes on. She could imagine their horror, their disdain, their abject disapproval. She had visions of them tearing Noah away from his harlot of a mother, standing up in court declaring she was unfit . . .
Helen realised there was no way she could face them. She was about to turn on her heel when the front door opened and Noreen peered out through the flyscreen. ‘Helen, is that you, dear?’
She cleared her throat. ‘Oh, hi Noreen, I wasn’t sure if you were home . . .’
She glanced sideways at the gleaming twelve-year-old showroom-condition Ford Falcon sedan parked in the spotless driveway.
‘What are you doing here, Helen?’ said Noreen a little anxiously. ‘Is everything all right? Where’s Noah?’
Helen took a breath. ‘Noah’s fine,’ she assured her. ‘Everything’s fine, Noreen. I was just passing by, and I wanted to ask you a favour.’
Noreen fumbled with the lock on the flyscreen and finally opened the door. ‘Well, come in, dear. I’ll make you a nice cup of tea.’
‘Oh, that’s okay,’ said Helen, walking towards her.
Helen saw her face drop. Of course, what did you do with visitors if you couldn’t serve them a beverage of some description?
‘I’d love a cup of tea, thanks, Noreen.’
She looked relieved.
‘You have to remind me how you have it, Helen,’ she said as she walked out to the kitchen. ‘I think it’s been a while since I’ve made you a cup of tea.’
‘Who’s there, Noreen?’ Jim’s voice came from up the hall.
‘Oh, I just have to let Dad know you’re here,’ she said breathlessly, hurrying out of the kitchen again to David’s old room, where Jim had set up his study.
Moments later she reappeared, huddling behind Jim.
‘Hello, Helen,’ he said sternly. ‘This is unexpected. Mum tells me everything’s all right though?’
‘Of course, I was just passing,’ said Helen.
‘I’ll put that kettle on now,’ said Noreen, still breathless as she trotted over to the other side of the kitchen.
‘Take a seat,’ said Jim, pulling a chair out from the kitchen table and sitting down himself.
‘I was just saying to Noreen that I have a favour to ask you.’
Jim regarded her suspiciously. ‘Go ahead.’
‘I was wondering if you were able, if you’re free that is, to pick up Noah from preschool this afternoon?’
Noreen had drifted over to listen, and she was smiling eagerly at the prospect.
‘I, uh, I have to do something for a friend this afternoon,’ said Helen, ‘so it would be a big help to me if you could fill in some time with him, say a couple of hours? Take him to the park . . .’
‘Maybe we could take him for an ice cream,’ Noreen said hopefully.
Helen looked at her. ‘Sure, take him wherever you like. He loves being with his nan and pop.’
She detected the slightest softening on Jim’s face. ‘You know we’re always happy to help out, Helen, any time. Now, where’s that cup of tea, Mum?’
‘Oh,’ Noreen said, flustered. ‘I was just wondering which biscuits to put out, the Monte Carlos or the Scotch Fingers, or there’s fruitcake . . .’
Helen tuned out as they discussed the relative merits of each choice, or rather as Jim laid them out and Noreen hung off his every word, waiting for him to give his final proclamation. He was like the king of his little dominion, but Noreen was hardly the queen. Helen felt a rush of sympathy for her, or perhaps it was empathy. They were not so unalike, her and Noreen. David hadn’t been nearly as domineering as his father, they were a generation apart, but Helen had been too prepared to defer to his opinion, to let him make the decisions, to give him the run of her life.
Jim and Noreen were not bad people; they’d settled into their roles and never had a reason to change. But Helen had to wonder how Noreen would ever cope if Jim died first. And she found herself silently thankful that she was young enough to adapt, to change her life, find her feet. Even if she was still a little scared to see where they were going to take her.
Balmain
Luke had said he’d be there around two, but Gemma remembered his fairly loose relationship with time, and decided not to watch the clock. So when there was a knock on the door just after one, she was a little surprised. It turned out it was only Phoebe, however.
‘I thought you might be Luke,’ said Gemma when she opened the door.
‘Sorry?’ Phoebe said, confused.
‘Luke’s coming over later.’
‘Luke Luke?’ she said, stepping into the hall.
‘The one and only,’ Gemma replied, closing the door again.
Phoebe was staring at her, her mouth gaping. ‘Whoa, when did all this happen?’
‘Nothing’s happened,’ Gemma said calmly, making her way back down the hall, Phoebe trailing behind. ‘He called yesterday and asked if he could see Lola.’
‘How did he find you?’
‘I got in touch with some of our old friends months ago. They passed on the number when he came back to Sydney.’
They walked into the back room and Gemma retired to her throne as usual, while Phoebe plonked herself on the sofa.
‘So how do you feel about seeing him again?’ Phoebe asked.
Gemma screwed up her face. ‘I don’t know.’ She paused. ‘I’m a little worried about what he’s actually got in mind, if he suddenly wants to play happy families.’
Phoebe looked horrified. ‘You wouldn’t take him back, would you?’
‘Give me a little credit. Doesn’t anyone believe I’ve got a brain in my head? Even Charlie had a go at me about my life being a train wreck and not wanting to stand around and watch me do it again.’
‘I know where he’s coming from,’ Phoebe muttered.
‘What?’
‘Come on, Gemma, you haven’t exactly got the best track record.’
‘The last thing I would do is take Luke back,’ said Gemma firmly. ‘I’ve done some pretty stupid things in the past, I realise. But I’m not a complete idiot.’
‘No, you’re not.’
‘Anyway, I doubt very much that Luke’s coming here to win me back. I just wish I knew what he was after.’
‘Well, you’re going to find out soon enough.’ Phoebe kicked off her shoes and curled her legs up underneath her. ‘It’s quiet around here. Helen at work?’
‘No, she was going to visit her mother, thank God.’
‘Why do you say that?’
‘She’s been moping around the place for days. She hasn’t been to work, she’s barely shifted off the sofa, and when she does, she has these manic cleaning fits.’
‘What’s going on?’ asked Phoebe, concerned. ‘Why isn’t she going to work?’
Gemma considered her. ‘I guess it’s all right to tell you.’
‘Tell me what?’
‘Helen would tell you, that’s if she wasn’t in la-la land right now.’
‘What’s going on?’ Phoebe repeated anxiously.
‘Maybe I should wait and let her –’
‘Just spit it out, would you, Gemma!’
‘She slept with Myles.’
‘Woohoo,’ said Phoebe, wide-eyed. ‘That’s been coming for a while. So what’s the problem?’
‘Remember how she didn’t think it was right to date anyone, how she still felt married?’ said Gemma. ‘I think that’s getting to her. But she won’t talk about it.’
‘Poor thing,’ said Phoebe wistfully.
‘Actually, now that I think of it, she said she was going to be back before Luke gets here. I didn’t want to be alone when he came, but now that you’re here, maybe I should call her so she doesn’t rush to get back.’
‘Fine with me,’ said Phoebe. ‘I’m in no hurry.’
Gemma regarded her closely. It was midafternoon on a weekday and Phoebe was wearing jeans and a T-shirt. There was something wrong with this picture. ‘And why is that, Phee?’
‘Why is what?’
‘Why aren’t you in a hurry? What are you doing here and why aren’t you at work?’
‘I’ve got some news of my own,’ Phoebe admitted sheepishly. ‘But I’m thinking this
might not be the best time – there seems to be enough going on around here as it is.’
‘Well, you have to tell me now,’ said Gemma. ‘I won’t be able to stand the suspense.’
‘Okay.’ Phoebe sat forward. ‘I suppose you’ve picked up that I’ve been feeling a little broody since you had Lola?’
‘A little?’
‘All right, a lot,’ she conceded. ‘So, I had it out with Cam. I told him I wanted a baby; I wasn’t going to wait.’
‘Good for you,’ said Gemma. ‘As if he was going to go ahead with that stupid vasectomy threat. So what happened?’
‘He booked in for a vasectomy,’ Phoebe said dryly.
‘No!’
‘So I said, you go ahead with it, Cameron. It’s over: you can pack your bags.’
‘Then what?’
‘He packed his bags.’
‘Oh Phee,’ Gemma said plaintively. ‘He actually left?’
‘No, actually, in the end, I did,’ said Phoebe. ‘I never liked that apartment anyway.’
‘You didn’t?’
‘Not really.’
Gemma was trying to take all this in. ‘So where are you staying?’
Phoebe looked a little cagey. ‘Don’t get mad –’
‘You didn’t go home to Mum and Dad’s?’ Gemma groaned.
‘Just till I find something,’ Phoebe insisted.
‘But aren’t you worried Cameron might rip you off somehow, if he’s the one staying in the apartment?’
Phoebe shook her head. ‘We’re both lawyers, don’t forget. We drew up a pre-nup so watertight neither of us can sneeze without the other one blowing their nose.’ She became wistful. ‘I should’ve known then. Who needs a pre-nup if they really believe they’re in it forever? I remember I said that to Cam at the time, and he said that was romantic claptrap.’ She paused, staring off into space.
‘When did this all happen, Phee?’ said Gemma. ‘Why didn’t you tell me before now?’
‘You’d just had a baby, Gem,’ Phoebe reminded her. ‘And what could you do anyway? The last few weeks have been tough, but I just had to get through them. I really fell apart at first, but now the good days are outweighing the bad. I didn’t cry all day yesterday, and not so far today.’ She paused. ‘It was coming for a long time, Gem, ever since he threatened the vasectomy I knew on some level it was over. I guess I chose to bring it to a head.’
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