by Anne Buist
‘I do feel kind of bad.’
‘And when Chelsea gets angry it makes you feel worse, right?’
Jenna nodded.
‘But under the anger, what do you think she’s feeling?’
Jenna paused. Finally she said, ‘Scared.’
‘And if you don’t stick with her and give her the message that you can cope with her anger, how do you think that will make her feel?’
‘Even more scared.’
Natalie nodded. ‘Now with that in mind, let’s go get her out of the car, shall we?’
Jenna looked ambivalent.
‘Pretend,’ said Natalie. ‘Pretend you’re…I don’t know, Kim Kardashian. No one can say no to you. Firm…but kind.’
‘Yeah?’ The Kardashians probably didn’t do ‘kind’.
‘Maybe not quite as much nude-selfie.’
Jenna didn’t seem to find this amusing. Natalie let her go ahead, and she opened the car door. ‘Come on, Chelsea. Doctor King’s here.’
Chelsea looked at her mother, sulkily.
‘Come on, Chelsea. Please.’
‘No one can say no to you,’ said Natalie softly.
Jenna took a breath. ‘Delaying just means we’ll get home later.’
Chelsea flashed her mother a look. More thirteen than eight.
Jenna straightened her shoulders, crossed her arms. Chelsea looked at Natalie and whether it was her mother’s change of tone or being outnumbered, she wriggled out of the car and ran ahead. Natalie gave Jenna the thumbs-up, and went after her.
‘Can we play in the sand?’ Chelsea—the eight-year-old version—asked, sitting in front of the table and trying to work out how to take the lid off. There was a new air of bravado about her—as Natalie eased the cover from its protective position she hoped this didn’t translate to her turning the room into Desert Storm like her brother had.
Chelsea went over to the shelves, looking at the Disney characters.
‘Why don’t you have a family play down at the beach?’ suggested Natalie.
Chelsea wandered to another shelf. ‘Have you seen Finding Dory?’
Natalie felt like punching her fist in the air. No, but at least she knew what it was. ‘Nemo and his dad help find Dory’s parents, right?’
‘Yeah.’ Chelsea put a fish which could have been Nemo on the sand. ‘Nemo’s dad already found him, even though he went down drains and ended at the dentist.’
The relevance of the topic was obvious. Dory had to find both parents though—Chelsea had her mother.
Chelsea found a mermaid and put it next to the fish, then added a starfish. Her, Chris and her mother?
‘Anyone else in the family?’ Natalie asked.
‘They’re having a holiday by themselves.’
‘Are they going to go swimming?’
‘No. They’re going to sit in the sun.’
‘And what’s going to happen?’
‘The mermaid is going to get sunburnt and have to go to hospital.’
Natalie wished she had Declan watching. What the hell did that mean? And was this beach in Egypt? ‘Maybe…’ Natalie got up and found what she was looking for. ‘The mother found an umbrella just in time and put the children in the shade.’ She put the umbrella down next to the mermaid and Chelsea moved the fish near it. She frowned. ‘It’s going to get hot so she’s going to swim after all.’ The mermaid was moved out of the sand onto the glass top. Chelsea looked up to the shelf and selected another figure and put it down nearby.
A shark.
‘So, what’s going to happen now?’ Natalie asked, careful not to react.
Chelsea seemed frozen.
‘Perhaps someone can save the mermaid?’ said Natalie softly, mindful that a starfish, if that was meant to be Jenna, was a bit under-resourced for the task. Natalie selected a whale and put it between the shark and the mermaid. ‘How about this?’
Chelsea shook her head, but then her expression cleared and she smiled. She went to the doll’s house where Aladdin was still in residence. ‘He’s going to call a genie and save her.’
Natalie smiled. Then she looked back at the doll’s house. Of course. She and Declan had misinterpreted the scene. Aladdin—Malik—was not trying to get into Princess Jasmine’s bedroom. He was guarding it to stop anyone else getting in. Was that reality, or was Chelsea separating the good and bad versions of her father into two people?
It was the end of the day before Winona rang her back.
‘You need to look for someone other than Malik,’ said Natalie.
‘What?’
‘I think there’s a real possibility she’s being abused by someone other than Malik. Her behaviour’s getting worse, for one thing.’
‘So, what do you expect us to do? We’ve assessed her home environment as safe.’
‘What about her teachers?’
‘I’m not an investigator. Do you know how many cases I have on my books at the moment?’
It wasn’t really the point. If her suspicions were right, Protective Services was failing Chelsea. As were her family—and so was Natalie.
41
‘You really want to do these songs?’ asked Shaun, surveying her list. He pushed his straw hat to the back of his head and looked up at her.
‘Sure do.’ Being pregnant was not going to get in her way. Well, it would eventually—Tom had suggested that she needed to think about Gil’s partner Cassie taking over some time soon, at least until after the bean made an appearance.
Shaun caught a look from Tom and shrugged. ‘You’re the boss.’
Not really—Shaun carried at least as much weight as she did, but he was humouring her.
They were all her favourites for when she wasn’t getting enough sex. Usually one or two on a given night was enough. But on this list, among ‘Because the Night’, ‘Fucking Perfect’ and ‘When Doves Cry’ there were some of their own, even more pointedly sexual, songs. Natalie wanted to enjoy herself and not worry about whether Damian was going to turn up. Worry about nappies, prams and the whole shebang—that would happen soon enough.
She threw herself into the songs, felt alive and electric and the audience went with her energy. The dance floor was crowded from the second song and continued when Shaun duetted with her on some hard rock tunes. She wasn’t showing—not really. She hadn’t been able to get into her leather trousers or skirt but the military style black and red jacket that covered her butt also covered the bump.
They’d done a couple of encores after the last bracket when Natalie decided what her final song would be.
‘Time for a quiet one, do you think?’
Shaun looked surprised. The whole band were sweating under the lights and Tom had been muttering he was getting too old for this, but until this moment Natalie hadn’t shown the slightest hint she was flagging. She told him what she wanted to sing and he looked even more stunned. ‘You want me to do the duet?’
‘Sure,’ she said. It would make it easier.
Shaun shrugged. The place went quiet and she didn’t think that there was a single sound in the entirety of the pub as she sang, accompanied only by Shaun, her own version of Christina Aguilera’s ‘Just a Fool’. She was already well into it when she wondered why it had popped into her head. Wasn’t sure it had been a good choice in the circumstances—more applicable to Liam. This was not about her regret around her relationship with Damian. And the hurt, and what she was missing? All Liam.
She took her time about coming back to the bar, wanted to be sure she was in control; this was too important to fuck up. Benny was watching Damian as she joined him.
Damian raised his eyebrow, but didn’t say anything.
Natalie poured herself more water.
‘What was that about?’ Damian finally asked.
Natalie leaned forward. ‘Look, I don’t want you to get the wrong idea.’
‘What? That you care or something? Unlikely.’
Natalie felt the sting of his words, but didn’t doubt that
she deserved them. ‘It’s yours.’
There was a silence that seemed to extend across the room, but the rest of the room didn’t matter anymore.
‘The DNA test?’
‘Yes.’ She handed him the paperwork and he opened it slowly, staring in disbelief.
‘You still want to be a dad?’
‘Looks like I’m going to be.’
‘Yeah, well being a father is a bit more than a sperm donation.’
‘I want to be there.’ Jesus, the man had tears in his eyes.
Natalie tried to imagine the discussions about schools, parenting practices, holiday arrangements. Maybe they could do it by email. She gritted her teeth. They were both intelligent adults; all they needed to do was put their child first. Maybe they would agree on a lot of things anyway. Damian was a grown-up—and she was working on it. Trying to not equate mature with boring.
‘I haven’t really thought about the details,’ said Natalie.
‘We could make it work.’
Natalie looked at him. He’s in love with you Liam had said. Children are better off if their parents stay together, Damian had said. They both knew that wasn’t always true. But he’d been making a point with Liam. He’d been waiting for the result.
‘You’re assuming it’s over with Liam.’
Damian flinched. ‘O’Shea. You’ve told him it’s not his?’
‘While you and I were together, Damian, I slept with Liam once. I didn’t ask for it but I didn’t stop him. My bad. And I didn’t tell you then because…I don’t know, we hadn’t had the “we’re exclusive” talk. And I didn’t want to hurt you.’ Or to lose his trust.
She took a breath. ‘Would you have stuck around? If I had told you? Or stayed if the DNA test said it was his?’
Damian didn’t need to say anything.
‘Okay? So I was right.’ She stood up, suddenly exhausted. ‘The bean? We’ll cope. And for its sake, I’ll do everything I can to make sure you’re the best dad the kid can have.’
Just a fool? That pretty much summed her up.
When she got home, James O’Shea was on her doorstep.
Natalie stared at him, wondering what on earth he was doing there. In the next instant, she thought that, regardless of why, it must have taken a good deal of courage. Maybe he was coming to tell her to leave his dad alone. Whatever, she wasn’t about to give him a hard time.
‘James. You must be a shit-hot navigator. This isn’t the easiest place to find.’
The tension in his shoulders eased a little, but the line of his mouth was still straight, lips pursed.
‘Where’s my dad?’
Natalie looked at him closely. He was in jeans and a T-shirt but she doubted if this was how he normally looked when he left home. The clothes were dirty and the T-shirt—it was black so it was hard to tell, but it looked like it had blood on it. More blood in his hair; in the dim light she couldn’t make out where it had come from. That needed to be looked at—and if she told him Liam wasn’t there, and not likely to be any time soon, he would take off.
‘Come on up.’ She opened the door, figuring he was still young enough to take notice of a firm adult directive, even one from a woman he had major issues with.
He paused, then pushed past her up the stairs. Natalie took a deep breath and smiled briefly. If her mother could see her now—about to get everything she had delivered as a teenager and probably a whole heap more. Mothers. Lauren. Natalie took a quick look along the laneway; no sign of her—yet—then followed the battered James upstairs.
James looked around as though he’d landed on Mars. Compared to his house in Hawthorn, her warehouse probably was like another planet. He stopped dead at the top of the stairs when he saw her housemate.
‘Bob,’ she said as the bird cocked his head, taking in the new comer with interest, ‘meet James O’Shea.’
‘You’re a star,’ Bob announced, and launched himself onto the boy’s shoulder.
James seemed a little shaken, which gave her a moment to take a good look at him. It was worse than she’d thought. The blood had probably come from his nose, but that wasn’t the major injury. Judging from the swelling, there was a good chance he had a depressed fracture of his cheekbone.
‘Shoo him off,’ Natalie said mildly, walking to her freezer and grabbing a tea towel en route. ‘He’s quoting—misquoting—“Hurricane”. Doubt you’ve heard of it’—she came over to him, ice packed into the cloth—‘but it’s quite apt.’
James looked at her angrily. She shooed Bob back to his perch and handed the icepack to the boy. ‘Song about Rubin Carter. He was almost the world middleweight champion. Boxing. The pack’s for your cheek.’
It took James a moment to make sense of what Natalie had said. He gingerly applied the icepack.
‘I presume you’ve tried your father’s mobile.’
‘Yeah.’ The boy now looked like he was either going to cry or run. He didn’t appear to have thought about what he’d do if he’d found himself trapped in the Other Woman’s den without his dad.
‘Take a seat and I’ll find him,’ Natalie said. This was what James wanted, not her questioning him about what happened. They might get to that. ‘And don’t worry, your mother will never hear from me that you’re here.’ She fancied there was a slight release of breath, but that could have been wishful thinking. And it might have been hers.
Her mobile, amazingly, still worked, even though the screen beneath the crack was barely readable. Liam’s mobile was ringing out. She tried his office, and his flat in South Yarra. Hovered over another number she’d put in her phone directory, just in case, and hit it.
Tania’s mobile answered on the third ring.
‘Sorry to bother you,’ said Natalie, glad the other woman couldn’t tell how much her heart was racing, pleased her voice was cool, that it even had a hint of amusement in it. ‘Natalie King here. Is Liam there by any chance?’
‘Natalie.’ There was a pause, and she imagined Tania’s hand over the speaker, while performing a frantic mime.
‘Natalie.’ Liam’s voice this time. Sounding guilty? No way to tell. It wasn’t her business, at least not with respect to this phone call or this moment. ‘Is there a problem?’
‘Yes. Your son needs you. Now.’
42
Liam arrived fifteen minutes later. By the time he got there Natalie had reminded James she was a doctor and confirmed her suspicions, or at least to the extent that was possible without an X-ray. Between grunts she’d also deduced that he’d been somewhere he shouldn’t have been and that alcohol was involved, though he wasn’t coming across as intoxicated. Natalie left James petting Bob with one hand—the bird had raised his crest and asked, ‘How do you feel?’—and grasping the icepack with the other. She went down to open the door so she could bring Liam up to speed.
‘And Liam?’ she said quietly, grabbing his arm.
Liam looked ready for the worst.
‘You have one brave kid there. Facing me on my turf because he desperately needed his dad—took a lot of guts. He’s even had the good grace to be civil. Haul him over the coals later; this is not the time.’
‘Other guy look as bad?’ Liam asked, giving his son’s shoulder a squeeze.
‘She,’ James stole a look a Natalie, ‘thinks I might have broken it.’
‘Mate, I doubt you did it on your own, but we’d better get it seen to or your mother will think I’m negligent.’
James looked panic stricken. ‘If Mum finds out…’
If his mother found out where he was it’d be Natalie on her arse among the flowers next time.
‘I have a great network of surgeons,’ Natalie interjected. She told Liam where to take James, then pulled out her phone.
With Liam and James gone, the warehouse seemed cold and empty. Maybe it was the rage, the ruminations about Twitter, the ‘brain’s fried’ comment that accentuated her loneliness, the sense that she’d been abandoned.
I don’t need anyone, sh
e told herself, then texted Declan. His response was immediate: Breakfast?
The pot of coffee was ready again, along with a plate of croissants, newspapers put aside. Declan looked worried. Was it how she looked? Her hair had kind of gone wild. There had been more important things to worry about than the hairdresser. He listened as he drank his coffee and pulled the croissant into tiny pieces.
The tweets, the breach of confidentiality, the outrage she felt. The powerlessness. Gavin Boreman and his fucking bureaucratic bullshit.
‘Do you know who these Twitter people are?’
‘No.’
‘Realistically, can you find out?’
‘The police could.’
‘Will they, on the basis of this?’
She could ask Damian. Didn’t like her chances. ‘No.’
‘Then let it go, Natalie.’ Declan’s tone was firm. She thought of his advice, about choosing what was important and what was not.
‘This is my reputation, Declan. Ken Rankin and the Medical Board…’
‘No.’ Declan shook his head. ‘Even if this is a smear campaign, we’ll deal with it.’
Natalie felt her stomach drop, thought of the tweet she had sent.
‘But you need to understand…you can’t afford to…look I don’t profess to understand Twitter. But I understand its potential. And you don’t need it, Natalie.’
‘I know.’ She did know. It was just hard not to respond. Hard to let the unfairness, the one-sided bile, go unchallenged.
‘Natalie, you’re doing well. But we need to think about… maybe you’d be better back on lithium.’
No, she wanted to scream.
But the bean had all its bits now—the heart risk no longer existed. The risks at delivery were…manageable. She swallowed. ‘Not yet.’ She saw Declan’s expression. ‘I will if I need to, okay? But I’ll…stop looking at Twitter.’ And get her priorities straight.
Liam turned up again the following evening. Natalie didn’t have the energy to tell him to piss off. ‘Is James okay?’ Natalie pulled the long white wrap her mother had given her tightly around herself.