by Margaret Way
No aura. Or a barely perceptible one, like a gauze.
She’s more shocked than you are, Mallory thought.
To Mallory’s surprised dismay, Kathy had lost almost all her former prettiness. The look of sensuality that had once defined her was gone. Kathy was much too young to undergo such a radical physical transformation. Skin and hair lacked lustre. Her thick dark hair badly needed cutting. She was so painfully thin she could have hidden behind a cricket bat.
It had to be anorexia. Mallory felt a strong need to put Kathy at ease. “Hello there, Kathy. It’s good to see you.” It wasn’t a lie. “I’ve already met Ivy. She’s a bright little girl. I’ve seen Jason and Jessica, as I expect you know.”
Huge sad eyes. A pixie. Kathy didn’t look like anyone’s mother, dressed in a pair of shorter than short denim shorts and a T-shirt that had started life as white but was now grungy grey. Her scant clothing only served to showcase the thinness of her limbs and her near nonexistent bust.
“Mallory, how beautiful you look!” Kathy Cartwright summoned up her voice. “You were always beautiful.”
Mallory smiled, wanting to avoid a trite response.
Dot, motherly woman that she was, was making wordless noises, signifying encouragement to both parties.
“I apologize for coming into the house, but Mrs. R.”—Kathy whipped her dark head around, seeking support—“always has some of her lovely herbs for me to put in the salads. Jessy grows a lot of things, but they don’t taste good. Most of them are really bitter.”
“Well, those won’t be,” Mallory said, looking down at the contents of Kathy’s basket: mint, the strongly fragrant basil, dill, parsley, thyme, rosemary, sage, a bunch of spring onions, and some coriander. “By the way, Kathy, no apology is needed. You’re quite welcome to come in and say hello at any time. I’m glad I caught you because I wanted you to know Ivy too is welcome.”
Kathy gave a ragged little laugh. “Jessica told me the opposite.”
“I assure you Jessica got that wrong. If you don’t have to hurry off, why don’t you stay and have a cup of tea with us?”
Kathy coloured up with a mix of pleasure and embarrassment, responding to the atmosphere of simple kindness. She hesitated, clearly tempted, then muttered, “Maybe another time if that’s all right?”
“Certainly,” said Mallory.
Yet Kathy continued to stand there, as though she wanted to get something off her chest. “I don’t know what to say to you, Mallory,” she finally burst out in distress. “I did a terrible thing way back then. It’s no excuse but I was drunk.”
Mallory held up a staying hand, but Kathy was on a roll. “So was Jason. You know he never gets drunk, not Jason.”
That contentious question rose again. Jason in those days had not been a drinking man. A beer or two at the outside. He didn’t drink wine.
“Jessica was with us, but she never has much to drink either.”
Jessica was with them! Mallory was forced to let that murderous piece of information lie. Kathy had called up a demon. “It’s all in the past, Kathy. You can’t keep carrying this heavy burden.”
“I think I’m doomed to carry it forever.” Kathy’s expression was full not of self-pity but of acceptance of the fact she had done something she still considered utterly unforgivable.
Dot made another one of the encouraging noises that came easily to her, while Mallory made physical contact with a hand on Kathy’s arm. It seemed to calm her. “You’re being very hard on yourself, Kathy. You’ve let negative feelings engulf you.”
“People hate me.” Kathy bowed her head, exposing her thin neck. She had lost all her youthful glow. Mallory wanted to bring back that glow.
“Maybe people were shocked initially, but shock wears off.”
“They still hate me. Jessy said so.”
Mallory was angered, but kept it well under control. “So if Jessica says so it must be true?”
Kathy’s huge hazel eyes were pumping tears. “I think she likes to make me feel bad just like the old days, remember?”
“Well, I don’t hate you, Kathy. Both of us have started new lives. We’re reborn if you like. I want you to look on me as a friend.”
“But you’ll leave.” Kathy, who had seemed genuinely comforted, pulled away.
“Kathy, I’m here for some time.” Mallory spoke in her calm professional voice. “Uncle Robert needs me. If you have a problem you think I may be able to help you with, you have only to pop over and tell me.”
Kathy’s expressions ranged from sheer disbelief to the slow realization Mallory was serious. “A lot of people don’t like Jessica,” she said as if to balance the ledger. “But she’s Jason’s sister. Jason always listens to his sister before he would ever listen to me. Jess holds the reins.”
“Then you’d better make a start on turning that around, Kathy.”
Kathy stared towards the back door as though she fully expected to see her sister-in-law come charging in like a stampeding rhino. Even Mallory thought it a strong possibility.
“Not easy.” She grimaced. “No one pays attention to me. Never did. I’m Kathy Burch, before I’m ever Kathy Cartwright. I’m the daughter of the town drunk.”
Mallory winced, seeing life through Kathy’s eyes. “Kathy, no child could cope with that, but you’re a woman now, independent of your father. You have to let go of your old way of seeing yourself. The ridicule you were subjected to was truly cruel.”
“There was no one worse than Jessica!” Kathy exclaimed, dashing her tears away with her hand while Dot grabbed a box of tissues, thrusting them towards her. “She was the big culprit. She’s such a bully! Why is she such a bully?” Kathy blew her small nose like a cornet.
“Bullies are always cowards, Kathy. Remember that. You have a better understanding of life now. No child can be held responsible for the actions of a parent. As a child you couldn’t control the situation, but you can now.”
Kathy was visibly trembling. “I’m no match for Jessy.”
“You’re a woman now, Kathy. You’re the mother of Jason’s child. That should put you in a strong position. I understand Ivy’s health isn’t all that good. She told me she’s sick a lot.”
Kathy put the basket down. Mallory noticed Kathy’s nails had been bitten back to the quick.
Mallory took advantage of the moment. She pulled out a kitchen chair, signalling to Dot, who needed no signalling, to make a cup of tea. Kathy perched apologetically on the edge of her chair, one leg balanced on a rung, the other jiggling up and down. She was silent for only a few moments, then she began to talk . . . and talk . . . and talk . . .
Open sesame.
* * *
After Kathy left, they sat at the kitchen table, heads bowed, occasionally looking up to trade exhausted glances. “Struth, I thought I was going to fall into a coma,” said Dot. “Talk about a dam bursting! I don’t like to make judgements, but poor little Kathy could be a wee bit weak in the crumpet.”
Mallory too had her concerns. There were degrees of revelation in her experience, but what they had just witnessed was a massive tsunami. At one point Kathy had spilt some of her tea on the tablecloth. She reared back in her chair like she had engineered a flood. “I don’t know what the answer is. Kathy’s relationship with Jessica, ironically now her sister-in-law, has always been bad. Lucky is not Kathy’s middle name.”
Dot clicked her tongue. “Life can be like that for some. Never getting a break from birth to death. Born under the wrong stars, I expect. Jessica is such a bully, I can’t quite grasp it.”
“She’s certainly a big part of the problem.” Mallory didn’t want to take it further. There was major pathology at work.
She stood up, making the snap decision to take a run into town. “I’m going into town. Anything you need?”
Dot too pushed up, with a series of soft grunts. “I need a prescription filled, but I don’t like to bother you.”
“No bother at all. Where is it?”
“Colin Watson at the pharmacy keeps it. My blood pressure is a bit on the high side. Medication keeps it under control.”
“So, ring Colin Watson and tell him to make up the prescription,” Mallory urged. “Tell him Mallory James will be picking it up for you.”
Dot smirked. “Colin will be thrilled about that. He has a thingy about you.”
“A thingy?” Mallory was taken aback. She had never met Colin Watson in her life.
Dot was chortling to herself. “Let’s say he’s a big fan. Men are always interested in a beautiful woman.”
* * *
It was another scorching day under a sky baked the colour of bright blue enamel. The scarlet of the poincianas was a wonderful foil for the bluer-than-blue sky. The great trees continued to cling to their glory, hazing the air with rose-pink. Squadrons of birds were on the wing, sunlight glancing off their gaudy plumage. The beautiful colourful bird life of the tropics was extraordinary.
Her journey, as ever, delighted her naturally artistic eye, but her mind wasn’t at ease. Theories on an unprecedented level were taking seed. All the time Kathy had been pouring out her soul accompanied by a lot of fast gulping and fidgeting on her chair, Mallory was seriously considering if all the trips to hospital with Ivy had anything to do with Kathy’s desperate need for sympathy and attention. Everything about Kathy’s behaviour suggested it. Kathy appeared starved of love, even basic consideration. Ivy had been presented at hospital many times. Kathy over their cup of tea had exhibited the great concern one would expect of a loving mother. Yet it couldn’t have been more obvious to her and to Dot that Kathy craved attention.
Worst-case scenario, Munchausen syndrome by proxy.
It had to be considered.
She had experience of the syndrome. She had dealt with such a case. A young patient’s mother, over a period of fourteen months before she had been referred to Mallory, had been making her child ill with nothing more than kitchen salt. The mother, separated from her husband, had craved attention. As did Kathy who wasn’t getting much attention. The sooner she spoke to Marisa Farnsworth, the better. There couldn’t be a question of doctor shopping as had happened with her former patient’s mother. As far as anyone knew, Kathy had brought Ivy to Base Hospital on all occasions. Could Kathy be self-harming as well? Mallory couldn’t thrust the thought away. The main concern was the child, not the mother.
* * *
Her last call for the day was picking up the prescription from the pharmacy. “Oh, here she is now, Mrs. C.!” The town pharmacist, Colin Watson, was leaning on the counter in conversation with a customer. His customer was standing with a rigid back to Mallory. Margery Cartwright no less.
Her cover blown, Margery was forced to turn around, looking extremely embarrassed.
Mallory went forward, hand outstretched. “Margery, how lovely to see you.”
From the expression on Margery Cartwright’s face she couldn’t quite believe Mallory was sincere. Margery was looking very smart and scarcely a day older than the last time Mallory had seen her, but her bluish aura had dimmed.
“M-m-Mallory, dear!” Margery was reduced to stammering. “C-c-Colin was just telling me you were back.”
Good old Colin, her secret admirer and Forrester’s unofficial town crier, gave Mallory a big crocodile smile. Mallory gave him back nothing by way of encouragement.
A kiss on the cheek for Margery seemed more appropriate than a handshake. “You’ve heard Uncle Robert had a heart attack?” Mallory kept all trace of censure out of her voice.
“Yes, dear.” Margery looked contrite. “The whole town knows. Robert is much loved. We would call, only—” She broke off with a heavy sigh, as though she couldn’t nail down the exact reason for not paying a visit.
“If you’re not in a hurry, why don’t we have a cup of coffee?” Mallory suggested. “I’ve completed my chores. I just have to pick up a prescription.” She glanced over Margery’s coiffed head at Colin, who was still paying her considerable attention.
Caught out, he gave her another toothy grin.
“What do you say, Margery?”
Margery looked on the verge of scooting, but she knew it was pointless. “That would be lovely.” Margery released a breath. “You know, Mallory, I think of you so often. What might have been.”
Thank God it wasn’t, Mallory thought.
* * *
Margery took a while mulling over hummingbird cake versus pineapple upside down cake. In the end she opted for a generous slice of the pineapple upside down cake with what looked like a half a pint of whipped cream on the side. The glassed-in display case was awash with similar treats. “Just today, mind you. I watch my diet.”
“And it works, Margery.” Margery’s thick hair, once blonde, was now a fashionable mocha, teased and sprayed, ready to withstand cyclonic winds should they unexpectedly arise out of season. Although the pineapple upside down cake looked delicious, Mallory declined a slice. She was being very well fed by Dot, who had confessed she never fell off a diet because she never went on one.
Some minutes later Margery had arrived at the point where she looked comfortable voicing her demons. “I feel terrible about not ever seeing my little granddaughter,” she confided, blinking away tears as she tore open the ubiquitous sugar substitute and poured it into her coffee.
“She’s six already, Margery,” Mallory couldn’t help saying. “You could fix things this very day. Ivy is—”
“Oh, I don’t like that name!” Margery’s cheeks did a wobble of outrage. She threw up both hands like jewelled birds in flight. Fuchsia nail polish matched the flowers in her expensive printed dress. Sparkling rings, both hands, exploded with colour.
Vena amoris, Mallory thought, or vein of love. Myth held that a vein connected the third finger of the hand directly with the heart. Not the fourth finger, commonly called the engagement finger.
“I understand Jessica picked it out?”
Moments of savouring, then Margery put the cake fork down with a clatter. “She would. Ivy. Poison ivy.”
“Surely not?” Even Jessica couldn’t think of something like that. Mallory grasped Margery’s jewel-encrusted fingers. “Ivy is a very bright little girl, the image of Jason. Is it Kathy you hold responsible for splitting the family apart?”
Margery looked genuinely startled. “No, of course not, Mallory dear.”
Her front-running theory bit the dust.
Margery finished her slice of cake as though it would be positively rude not to. “Kathy Burch, that poor little creature, is a bit on the iffy side. The father is an absolute lunatic. Probably didn’t know what she was doing when she got Jason into bed. He wouldn’t have known what he was doing either. They were both drunk. It would never have happened otherwise.”
“Well, it did. Jason and Kathy are married and they have a little girl. You must meet her, Margery.” Mallory knew she was treading where even angels would hesitate, but she felt she was being directed by an unseen hand. “Now that I’m back, I’m seeing things much more clearly. Ivy needs you. She needs her grandmother and her grandfather.”
Perspiration was popping out on Margery’s top lip although the coffee shop was air-conditioned. She delved in her handbag for a handkerchief perfumed with Elizabeth Taylor’s enormously successful “White Diamonds.” “You remember I was often called to the school to talk about Jessica’s treatment of Kathy Burch.” Tears stood in the bright blue eyes. “It grieves me to say it, but Jessica has a very cruel streak.”
“The cruelty of children is no news to anyone, Margery. They lack understanding.”
Margery nodded sagely. “But with Jessica! God knows I tried to be a good mother, yet Jessica was always so closed and so hostile. I couldn’t say a thing right. If I weren’t her mother I would have said she hated me, it got so bad at times. Other times she was normal enough. Not loving, never loving, but I caught glimpses of what she might have been like. The only person she was loving towards was her brother. I endured endless
frustrations with my daughter, Mallory. Right through her childhood and God knows through her adolescence when she really took off. Jessica lacks the softer virtues. She’s hard, so hard and so terribly unpredictable. You never knew where you were with her. God knows where she gets it from. Certainly not from me. Or her father. Jason didn’t share that terrible trait, for all the rest!”
“What rest?” Mallory seized onto that, but Margery didn’t answer her.
“Jessica really tormented that girl. I can’t believe they get on after all those years of bullying. Who could? Jessica always was the problem, but everyone loved Jason. Jessica dominated Jason ever since they were babies. You knew we separated them at one point. Jason spent his last four years of secondary school boarding in Brisbane. But they only wanted to be back together again.”
Mallory was taking note of the tremor in Margery’s right hand. “So what are you saying, Margery?” She plunged in, hoping Margery would open up.
Only Margery was jumpy. She kept looking towards the door as though plotting her escape. She didn’t want to be subject to any interrogation, however well meant. She bowed her lacquered head, clearly about to clam up. “Harry and I strongly disapprove of Jessica’s . . .” A bitten lip and a long hesitation, then, “Interference in Jason’s life. What’s she doing working on your uncle’s plantation anyway?” Margery asked in a kind of rage.
“She needed the job, Margery.”
Margery’s expression had turned reminiscent of Jessica’s at her most fearsome. “She could have got one in Sydney or Melbourne. Jessica is clever.” She made it sound like cleverness was a very bad thing. “Start a new life. Leave Jason alone.” Margery brandished her cake fork aloft.
Several patrons glanced in their direction, their curiosity piqued. This was a small town, after all, where gossip was rife.
“Jason and Kathy,” Mallory pointed out. “And your lovely little granddaughter.”
“Yes, of course.” Margery appeared reluctant to say any more. Her time limit was up. She pushed the rest of her cake resolutely away. “We do want to see our grandchild, Mallory. You must know that. Our hearts ache. But what can we do? We don’t want to see the twins. Not the way things are.”