Later that night, as they lay on his bed, her head resting on his chest with his arm curled around her, he had told her how glad he was that she, like him, hadn’t wanted to wait any longer and she had nodded her agreement and kept the secret buried inside. The first time I had sex with my husband was due to my fear of a misunderstanding.
Still, that had all worked out in the end, hadn’t it? They’d been together now eight years, married for four and had two children together. So what did it matter that she’d slept with him on the second date instead of the fifth? Silly, really.
And she almost laughed at herself as she thought of her twenty-year-old self, lying in that messy bedroom in that apartment in the middle of Leichhardt, earnestly promising herself that next time, she would wait. Obviously there hadn’t been another next time. The laughter dried up as it touched the air though, as she thought about how much she had changed since that day. What had happened to that crazy, quirky girl who had sex with boys because she didn’t want them to misunderstand what she said and had dinner at a different Italian restaurant almost every second night on Norton Street with her new, older boyfriend?
Why are you even thinking about this stuff? You’re happy with Liam. You love him fiercely and you love your new life with your two children even more, right?
Okay, so why doesn’t it feel better?
Because you’re just having the three-day baby blues a bit late, that’s all.
And what if it’s more than that?
And she forced herself to think about the one thing that had been worrying her since the day she had brought Ethan home from the hospital and everything that had at first seemed so perfect so quickly fell to pieces. Why aren’t I feeling anything for Ethan like I did for Gracie when she was born? It wasn’t that everything had been easy with Gracie – far from it. She had been terrified at the prospect of looking after a tiny human being – but she had definitely felt this strange sense of instant love for Gracie. And that’s what got her through the difficult times, when she was struggling with this new thing called motherhood.
So what’s wrong with me this time around?
Sick of lying there next to Liam’s solid, sleeping form, thinking these confusing thoughts, she threw back the covers and crept out of bed. Her stomach had that empty, hungry feeling. She never had got around to eating dinner after her walk. What have I actually eaten today? she wondered with vague interest as she wandered down the hall to the kitchen.
I’ll just grab something to keep me going, she decided, maybe it will help me sleep? Searching through the pantry she found a block of fruit and nut chocolate. Then she sat down at the kitchen table in the darkness, and steadily ate her way through the entire block without pausing.
When she finally climbed back into bed, she felt a sick sort of satisfaction; she had never eaten that much chocolate in one sitting in her entire life. Looking across at Liam, fast asleep and snoring lightly, she had a sudden desire to reach across and wrench the pillow out from under his sleeping head. She shuddered – where had that come from? Weird reaction to the sugar rush, she decided. And she lay down guiltily and fell asleep, her fingers lightly tracing Liam’s arm.
‘Latte, two sugars – am I right?’ The pretty girl smiled shyly at Liam from under a straight-cut blonde fringe.
‘You got it,’ he responded cheerfully, not wanting to deflate her by admitting he actually normally ordered cappuccinos.
‘How’s your day?’ she added as she stepped over to the coffee machine to fill his order. Liam glanced up at the clock behind the counter. It was just on 6.30 am, not really far enough into the day to comment. He shrugged. ‘Not bad, if you don’t count the fact that I was up before five.’
‘Totally. I’m like, what am I doing out of bed? Torture. Don’t know why we have to be open so early.’ She hesitated and then added slowly, ‘Although then we wouldn’t be able to get you your early morning fix, would we?’ and she gave him a rather cheeky sideways look as she turned to froth the milk.
Ahh, she’s flirting with me, Liam realised, and then he wondered just how long that had actually been going on and whether he’d been missing the signals for weeks. Still, he wore a wedding band; he assumed she wasn’t expecting any sort of reciprocation – probably just playing for tips.
Liam couldn’t help but feel flattered though, as he headed out of the café and around the corner to his office with the warm paper cup in hand. Nothing wrong with a bit of harmless flirting.
Once he was at his desk, he took a moment to stretch his arms, massage his temples, and then he rolled his chair forward and began clicking through his emails. Busy day today; he might have to head back down for another coffee in a couple of hours.
Hannah was having trouble figuring out how she could leave the house. She couldn’t go out if Ethan was due for a feed, because the prospect of trying to breastfeed him in public just seemed too daunting. It took forever to get him to latch on and when he finally did, she usually had to keep her arms in an awkward position, one elbow stuck out to the side and her hand clutching her breast, shaping the nipple for him. If she let go and tried to cradle him – and give herself a bit of privacy by placing her arm all the way around his body – then he just seemed to slide off. She also couldn’t go out if he was due for a sleep – she was determined to get him into a routine and she didn’t want to mess it up. That left a very small window to leave the house.
And then there were all the things she would need to do to get herself out. Pack the nappy bag. Snacks and a drink bottle for Gracie. Spare change of clothes in case Gracie wet her pants – oh toilet training was such fun. Get Gracie dressed. Get Ethan dressed. Get herself dressed: shower, brush hair, brush teeth. Nup. Impossible task.
Looking out the lounge room window at the cars rushing past, Hannah began to feel a claustrophobic constriction in her chest. Trapped. I’m completely trapped in here.
But no, that wasn’t true. Gracie had to go to preschool tomorrow. So regardless of how hard it seemed, she was going to have to get herself out of the house. That’s a good thing, she reminded herself as she sat down cross-legged at the coffee table to help Gracie open the lid on the play-dough container.
Thirty minutes later Hannah noticed there was something strange about the way she was behaving. She was feeling robotic, unnatural, as she tried to interact with Gracie. She tried to think back to what she was like before she had headed off to the hospital to give birth to Ethan. She was sure she used to be able to play naturally enough with Gracie. But right now she was feeling self-conscious, acutely aware of how her voice sounded, of how her back was stiff and straight as she moulded shapes out of the dough. ‘Well done, Gracie, what a clever shape you have created,’ she found herself saying in an overly formal tone. She was aware of how odd she sounded, but she couldn’t seem to shake it from her shoulders.
She switched on ‘Sesame Street’ and stood up to leave Gracie to it. Maybe a ten-minute break, perhaps taking a look at Facebook on her laptop, might help her to feel reconnected to the world. As she scanned through her news feed though, she slowly began to feel grossly inadequate. There was Josie, a girl she had worked with a few years back, who had three children now and was posting gorgeous pictures of her children along with adoring captions. There was Tiana, an old uni friend, posting a gushing status update about how her little boy Jordan had just given her his first toothless smile. Not only that, but so many other mums seemed to be actually doing things with their children. They were at the park, feeding the ducks; they were out at coffee shops, playgrounds, Wiggles concerts. They checked themselves in to all of these exciting locations along with bright, smiling photographs of themselves and their children. How did they do all of that?
She stared at the computer screen, feeling insecure, incompetent as a mother. And then without really meaning to, her hand moved to the mouse and she slid it over the update-status button. She hesitated, and the
n she clicked and began to type:
Hannah is at Taronga Zoo with her two gorgeous kids, Gracie is in seventh heaven!
This was insane, why was she even considering posting this? But her body seemed to be moving without her approval. She clicked the submit button and then leaned back in her chair.
Well, that was an odd thing to do.
Liam had a ten-minute break between client meetings. He slid one of those frozen instant meals into the microwave and then stood back to wait as it rotated slowly. He pulled his iPhone out of his pocket to check out Facebook while he waited. Skimming the posts, one from Hannah caught his eye. ‘Out at the zoo?’ he exclaimed. They had never taken Gracie to the zoo before; he kind of thought that was something they would do together for the first time.
Ah well, at least she’s getting out, having fun. That’ll be good for her.
Still, he was surprised that she hadn’t mentioned her plans to him that morning.
The rest of his day was absolutely packed. Staff meeting including cake for someone’s birthday. A visit to the warehouse. Going through the finances with their external accountant. It was after five by the time Liam thought he could really do with another coffee. He still had more work to do, approvals of some new marketing emails and revising last quarter’s sales figures.
He headed for the door and then paused to call out to his sales manager who was working late tonight too. ‘You need a coffee, Mick?’
‘You going downstairs, mate?’ Mick called back.
‘Yeah, just quickly.’
‘What’s wrong with the new coffee machine Laurie ordered in?’
‘What’s with the fucking inquisition? You want a coffee or not?’
‘Nah I’m good.’ Mick turned back to his computer, nonplussed by his boss’s outburst.
Liam walked briskly around the corner to the coffee shop. When he stepped inside his eyes briefly swept across the counter. It was staffed by two young guys; the blonde girl must have finished her shift already. He was surprised to note a slight feeling of disappointment that she wasn’t there. But he shook it off – obviously he was just looking for a friendly face.
It was Friday afternoon and Hannah had run late to pick Gracie up from preschool. The teacher had been unimpressed to say the least, and Hannah had the feeling she hadn’t bought her made-up excuse that she was late due to a doctor’s appointment for Ethan that had run over time. As Hannah negotiated her way back home through the peak-hour traffic, she thought back to their life before they had had Ethan. They used to live in Liam’s tiny apartment in Leichhardt together. It was a tight squeeze when Gracie was born, but it was cosy and it worked. Liam made it home from the city each night within twenty-five minutes. When Gracie was a cute, gurgling baby, Hannah would take her for walks in her stroller to Norton Street. She made friends with a sweet old Turkish woman who ran a coffee shop there and the woman would scoop Gracie out of the stroller if she cried and walk her around the café singing lullabies to her while Hannah finished her cappuccino. They had dinner out at one of the many restaurants there almost every weekend and got to know most of the waiters and waitresses. Hannah had felt at home on that street.
And then they found out she was pregnant. Liam was ecstatic – he had been trying to convince Hannah that it was time to start trying for a second baby for months. Hannah had been more apprehensive; she had only just returned to work, two days a week as an assistant at a small but friendly law firm in Rozelle – nice and close to their apartment. She had been enjoying using her brain again, didn’t want to have to quit so soon.
Liam immediately began talking about moving. It would make more sense to move further out west, he suggested, where they could afford a bigger place, with a back yard for the kids. Sure, his travel time would triple – but he didn’t mind; they simply couldn’t fit in that apartment as a family of four. Hannah hadn’t really been prepared for how different her life would become. The house was lovely: spacious and bright. But she felt cut off from the world. The nearest shops were just a grocery store and a milk bar; no coffee shops with sweet old ladies to chat to. No restaurants to walk to on a summer’s night. She felt as though she’d left her family behind in Leichhardt and Liam left for work in the morning at the crack of dawn and returned home each night after seven – if not later. Although she was used to his late arrival home now, she needed that extra time to get the house under control, to show him that she was coping – even if she knew deep down that something really wrong was going on with her . . .
‘Mummy, Mummy, Mummy, MUMMY!!’
Gracie’s voice cut through Hannah’s reminiscing and she almost jumped in her seat. How long had Gracie been yelling at her? She glanced up into the rear-view mirror. ‘Yes, honey?’
‘Look what I can do with my arms.’
‘Um, I’m sorry, Gracie, I can’t really look properly at the moment. Mummy has to concentrate on the road.’
‘Yes but look, I can stretch them right up like this. When we’re in the car and I’m all strapped in I can’t do that. I can’t reach that far. But look how far I can go now. I can touch up to the roof and the sky.’
‘Hang on, what do you mean, when you’re strapped in. You’re strapped in now . . . aren’t you?’ Hannah felt her stomach sway. Had she forgotten to do up Gracie’s seatbelt? She tried to twist around to take a look.
‘No. Not today. Today my arms are free and I can dance in the car!’
‘SHIT!’ Hannah hit the indicator and pulled over to the side of the road. Once they were safely stopped, she sat still for a minute, breathing fast. She couldn’t believe she had forgotten to do up the buckles on Gracie’s belt. What had she been thinking?
While Hannah did up the straps, Gracie said happily, ‘You said we could stop at the shops today.’
‘Did I?’ Hannah asked distractedly. Her mind was on Gracie’s small figure; she was imagining her tiny body being tossed around the car like a rag doll. Oh God, imagine if we’d had an accident. ‘Umm, I don’t remember that. Grace, we’re already past the shops, baby; maybe we could go tomorrow instead? It’s really very late, in fact it’s already your dinner time.’
Gracie’s tantrum lasted all the way home. But Hannah wasn’t listening. She was thinking about what might have been. She hadn’t had a car accident for a long time now. In fact, she’d only had one in her entire life. It was when she was still on her P plates and it was just a small one. She had run into the back of another car at a set of lights. She had been checking her blind spot to change lanes. The owner of the car she had hit had been freakishly nice about it. She wouldn’t even take Hannah’s details, explaining that her car was so old and dented that another scratch didn’t really matter. Hannah remembered thinking at the time that this was about karma. That she was going to have to make sure she did the same for someone else one day. Although she sort of didn’t want to; after all, her car was quite nice, and wasn’t it pretty expensive to get a dent in your car repaired, even if it did seem small?
But that was beside the point. The point was – she must be due for another car crash by now. That was how these things worked. The longer you went without having an accident, the closer you came to having one. She must have been right on the verge of one. And here she was, forgetting to strap in her three year old. The thought of that delicate body flying up and hitting the roof of the car, or being crushed by torn metal, made bile creep up her oesophagus.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Liam opened his eyes slowly and lay still, enjoying the fact that it was Saturday morning. That it was 8 am instead of 5. He rolled over and reached out his hand to stroke Hannah’s arm suggestively.
‘You know we can’t have sex yet, right?’ Hannah’s voice sounded hard and she remained facing the opposite wall.
‘I know,’ Liam said quickly. ‘I was just . . . trying to be affectionate.’
He paused before asking, ‘Wha
t do you want to do today?’
Hannah’s shoulder shrugged under his touch.
‘Hey, you know what I’ve been thinking? What if I invite my parents to come up and stay for a few days? They’re desperate to meet Ethan and see Gracie again. And then maybe, while they’re here, they could look after the kids one night while we have dinner out or something?’
‘Sure, sounds good.’ Hannah still hadn’t turned to face him.
‘Han,’ he said slowly, ‘is everything okay? Are you annoyed with me or something?’
‘Just tired,’ came back the clipped voice.
Ethan began to cry from the other room then. ‘I’ll get him for you,’ Liam began, but Hannah had already thrown back the covers and sat up. ‘It’s okay,’ she said as she stood and left the room.
Liam lay back on the pillow and frowned. She seemed to be coping so well with the new baby – so why was she in such a bad mood?
Hannah sat in the darkness of the living room, the television quietly flickering at her as she gave Ethan his 3 am feed. She was mentally going over everything that needed to be done before her parents-in-law arrived. When Liam had suggested that his parents should come and stay for a few days, her reaction had been mixed. She adored Liam’s parents: Trish was like a cuddly Koala bear, while his dad, Nick, was the typical Maltese father-in-law, always telling Hannah she was too thin, offering them more food, more money, a house! But as much as Hannah loved them, the thought of having them come to stay – of having them see what her day-to-day life with the children was like – was terrifying. Surely Trish, the archetypal, perfect mother, would see right through Hannah’s charade, would instantly discover that she was a fraud as a mother. Perhaps she would want to whisk the children away at once?
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