Food, Sex & Money

by Liz Byrski

  ‘He was just a man, Bonnie,’ Lenore said. ‘A man devastated by the loss of his child. He probably did think he was doing the best thing for both of you. But he got it terribly wrong.’

  It seemed all right to admit that now. It wasn’t a betrayal, just an acknowledgment of the truth. It didn’t mean she loved him any less, just that now she knew she should trust her own instincts to guide her.

  ‘What d’you think, Bonnie?’ David said, sitting down cross-legged beside her. ‘Good picnic, bad business decision?’

  ‘Both,’ she smiled. ‘But the first is what matters.’

  He nodded, and sipped his glass of soda. ‘I wish Gran was here. I miss her so much. It wasn’t till she’d gone that I realised all the things I wished I done. I just took it for granted that she’d always be there. Like Mum, constant, unchanging to the last – well, almost the last.’

  ‘But Fran’s changed a lot this year.’

  ‘Yes,’ he said. ‘Yes, she has, the Boatshed’s done wonders for her.’

  ‘It’s not just a one-way thing, David,’ Bonnie said. ‘All her work over the years has led to this. It would be a very different place without her.’ She looked across to where Fran sat in a folding chair with Rebekah on her knee, chatting to Sean and Jodie, and she remembered how Fran looked when she walked into the restaurant a year ago. She seemed more comfortable with herself now. They were business partners as well as friends, and she and Sylvia had more than proved themselves in that respect. It was all so different from that first ambivalent discussion at the Boatshed. ‘She’s an amazing woman, your mother,’ Bonnie said. ‘You know we’re planning another restaurant in Manly? From now on, nothing will surprise me. She’s grown in so many ways. Who knows what next?’

  David finished his soda and stretched his legs out in front of him. ‘I think she’s there now,’ he said. ‘I don’t think there’ll be many more surprises for a good while yet.’

  Bonnie smiled at him. ‘Don’t you be so sure. I thought that about my mother and look at her now.’

  *

  ‘I’ll take her, Mum, give you a break,’ Caro said, reaching out for Rebekah. ‘Anything wrong? You look a bit fed up.’

  ‘No, nothing,’ Fran said, standing up and brushing grass off her skirt. ‘Yes, you take her now, I could do with stretching my legs.’ The picnic had been a good decision, something they all needed. Sean and Graeme, hand in hand, were down by the water now, David and Jodie following them. She remembered David and Lila last year, dancing on the sand, Lila in her purple, so completely absorbed in the dance. Back then she had thought David looked fragile and sometimes she could still see it, but there was more to him now, he had built an inner strength. Jodie had been good for him, good for all of them.

  Bonnie looked up and smiled at her. ‘The right decision, Fran,’ she called. ‘Absolutely right!’

  Fran waved in acknowledgment. ‘Wait until I bring out the tinned ham sandwiches,’ she said. ‘Everyone has to eat one in honour of Mum.’ How Lila would have enjoyed this big crowd of people, different families, different lives, bound by love and friendship. She struggled against the tears, reminding herself to count her blessings, but it was hard when someone who figured so strongly among those blessings was missing.

  ‘I don’t think I can cope with it,’ Lenore had said over the phone.

  ‘It’s just a picnic,’ Fran said. ‘It’s not like we’re announcing anything to them, just letting them see us together. They’ll work it out in their own time.’

  ‘And what if they work it out and don’t like it?’

  ‘Lenore, it’ll be all right; trust me, please, trust them, my children, my friends. This is how Mum would have done it. She would have let them watch it unfold, expected the best of everyone; expected them to care enough to be happy for us.’

  But still Lenore had demurred, wanting more time, anxious about Fran’s commitment as well as the reactions of the others. Fran sighed and swallowed the lump in her throat, wondering how long it would take for Lenore to feel safe.

  David was circulating with another bottle of champagne, topping up the glasses. ‘Time for a toast,’ he said. ‘Come on, Mum, where’s your glass?’

  She held it out and the stream of champagne sparkled gold in the sunlight.

  ‘To mothers,’ David said, holding up his glass, ‘and their daughters.’

  ‘And their sons,’ Sylvia called.

  ‘And grandmothers,’ he said, ‘and in memory of one special great grandmother – to Lila.’

  They raised their glasses, chorusing the toast, pausing to savour their memories of Lila before the conversation began again.

  ‘She would have loved it, wouldn’t she, Mum?’ Caro said, hugging her with tears in her eyes. ‘She would have been here in her purple with that lovely little red hat Lenore gave her and – oh look, there is Lenore. You didn’t say she was coming.’

  Fran swung round, her skin prickling with shock. Lenore was walking towards them, her usual brisk and confident manner slower now, more cautious, sunglasses hiding her eyes, hands pushed down into the pockets of her black leather jacket. The disguise was in place but Lenore’s occupation of it was tentative.

  ‘I can’t come,’ she’d said, ‘because they’ll see me as I am – your kids, Bonnie, Sylvia, Irene … what’ll they think? It’s safe just being Lenore, but now I’ll be the lesbian who seduced their mother, their friend. And I’m scared that you’ll run away.’

  ‘Hey, Lenore,’ David said, walking over to greet her. ‘Just in time for the ham sandwich ceremony.’ He bent to kiss her and took her hand, leading her over to the group. Fran watched them close in around Lenore, Caro hugging her, Bonnie struggling to her feet to kiss her, Sylvia stroking her shoulders, handing her a glass of champagne. Lenore’s eyes were hidden still behind the dark glasses as she edged towards Fran.

  ‘You came,’ Fran said, holding out both hands to her.

  Lenore nodded. ‘Obviously,’ she said, and taking Fran’s hands she stepped forward and kissed her on the lips. ‘But in terror.’ She took off her sunglasses.

  ‘It’ll be all right,’ Fran said. ‘You can feel that, can’t you, now you’re here?’

  Lenore looked around. ‘Yes,’ she said. ‘I can, you were right. And you’re not going to run away?’

  Fran shook her head. ‘No way, not ever, there’s no escape now …’ She paused, glancing over Lenore’s shoulder. ‘Oh my goodness, look what’s happening over there.’

  Bonnie, sitting beside Caro, was reaching out her arms towards Rebekah. ‘My turn now, I think,’ she said. And Caro, looking up in surprise, handed the baby to her with a nervous glance at Irene.

  ‘You really are gorgeous, you know,’ Bonnie said, and Rebekah chuckled and reached up a hand to touch her face. Bonnie turned to them with a smile. ‘Now, what do you think about designer baby wear?’

  ALSO AVAILABLE FROM PAN MACMILLAN

  Liz Byrski

  Gang of Four

  She had a husband, children and grandchildren who loved her, a beautiful home, enough money. What sort of person was she to feel so overwhelmed with gloom and resentment on Christmas morning?

  They have been close friends for almost two decades, supporting each other through personal and professional crises – parents dying, children leaving home, house moves, job changes, political activism, diets and really bad haircuts.

  Now the ‘gang of four’, Isabel, Sally, Robin and Grace, are all fifty-something, successful … and restless.

  ‘Finally. A coming of age novel for the rest of us.’

  SUSAN MAUSHART, author of WIFEWORK

  ‘A mature, relevant and entertaining first novel … subversive, GANG OF FOUR will ignite more than plum puddings.’

  WEEKEND GUARDIAN

  ‘This is not a book about midlife crisis so much as midlife opportunity. The characters are like people you know – and there will be people you know who could learn something from them.’

  SYDNEY MORNING HERALD