Other Side of the Season

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Other Side of the Season Page 27

by Jenn J. McLeod


  ‘She’s not short on words, or opinions, or questions.’ His laugh, like a yelp, startled Natalie. She hadn’t known what emotions to expect, but laughter like that was not in the mix. ‘I actually have a question of my own I need to ask,’ he said. ‘What happens now?’

  ‘Nothing can happen, David.’

  The reality kicked in. This situation was more than a reunion for two. There were serious consequences for so many, making Natalie as aware of the hurt such truth could cause as she was of the car keys now digging into the soft flesh on her thigh. As she dug the keys out of her pants pocket, she wished she’d taken that ten-second lead to disappear down the mountain. David would be none the wiser, the truth would stay buried, and Nat’s relationship with her daughter–fragile at the best of times–would not be under threat. One slip was all it would take for a curious, tenacious daughter to discover the truth. What surprised Natalie was why Sid hadn’t already.

  ‘Where does Matthew fit in all this?’ David asked.

  ‘Matthew?’

  ‘Are you still together?’

  ‘Oh God, no!’ So, David didn’t know everything about his brother. ‘I’m so sorry to be only telling you now. Matthew died in 2001.’

  ‘I wondered,’ he said wistfully. ‘His emails stopped turning up in my inbox. How did he die?’

  ‘New York. World Trade Center Towers.’

  David’s eyebrows rose in a well-well-what-do-you-know way. ‘He did okay, then? He actually went out there and made something of himself?’

  ‘He did, David. I worked while Matthew studied. He got a degree in engineering and went on to . . .’ Natalie checked herself. She had trouble feeling loyalty to her dead husband. Protecting David from more hurt was her priority now. ‘I can tell you as much or as little as you like about your brother’s life. The choice is yours.’

  David seemed to consider her offer. ‘I need to think about that.’

  ‘Of course, well, while you do, please consider this. Sid idolised Matthew. The truth is, she was much closer to him than to me, and I’ve already witnessed the effect of finding out about a grandfather she never knew about.’

  ‘She’s a curious girl.’

  ‘She knows her father as an only child and estranged from his parents. She went ahead with Jake on this trip to find Ted, only to find he’d died. I’d be worried about more stress at this stage. You do know she’s pregnant?’

  ‘I do.’ David smiled some more, as though the thought of what that would mean had only just dawned on him. ‘And I agree. Telling her at this stage is not a good idea. But, Tilly, you can’t expect me to say or do nothing forever.’

  ‘They know Matthew’s version of his past. I’m asking you to help me keep the children’s memories undisturbed.’

  ‘Undisturbed?’ he repeated. ‘I see.’

  ‘You won’t say anything? Maybe after the baby.’

  ‘I wouldn’t, except . . .’

  Natalie swallowed, fearing the worst. ‘Except what, David?’

  ‘Sid already knows the other side of the story.’

  ‘What does that mean? How?’

  ‘She’s a good listener.’

  ‘Sidney?’

  He looked slightly bemused by her questioning tone. ‘And inquisitive.’

  ‘That I do know.’

  ‘We got talking last night and, well, I just about told her my life story. That included how I was in love with a local girl who ran away. I think I might have said with my brother. She asked about my accident. Did I mention her interrogation skills are well honed?’

  ‘Sid also has her father’s compassion and understanding.’

  David managed a small, sarcastic laugh. ‘Now I know you’re not talking about Matthew.’

  ‘David, whatever you think about your brother, he was a good father and Sidney loved him. Please tell me you’ll take some time to let the ramifications of all this sink in. I certainly need time. Sidney is a smart girl and I fear too smart for her own good.’

  ‘I can be careful what I say, Tilly, and she may not realise you’re the girl I told her about unless . . .’

  ‘Unless what?’

  ‘Unless she sees me looking at you.’

  ‘David, don’t, please.’ Natalie looked down at the hand clutching her keys so hard that her knuckles were white and her palms patterned with jagged red lines. ‘I should go before the children start wondering where I am.’

  ‘That’s nice. Having children to wonder.’

  ‘Yes, well.’ Natalie stood without looking at his face. ‘I’ll stay in town until the end of the week. Jake needs to go back for a fresh dressing in a couple of days.’

  ‘Then what?’

  ‘I don’t know. Just tell me you agree about not saying anything. We can talk some more. If you want.’

  ‘I do.’

  She took his response as the answer to both questions and when she looked back and saw David’s head was lowered, his eyes fixed on the children’s photograph in his wallet, she wanted to rush back to the veranda and wrap her arms around his neck.

  Luckily she didn’t, because the two of them had been so focused on the past that neither she nor David had noticed the present arrive.

  ‘Mum?’

  43

  Watercolour Cove, 2015

  ‘What are you doing, Mum?’

  Natalie was used to her daughter’s reproaches. Ordinarily a lecture would follow, such as how to separate papers from non-recyclable plastics. But there was urgency in Sid’s whispered accusation that made Natalie stiffen.

  How on earth was she going to explain her absence from the villa all this time? Natalie had thought her plan to take Sid’s car a good one, as her daughter would have no way up the mountain. Unless, of course, she managed to find a really old and very odd-looking Kombi van to borrow.

  ‘What are you doing here, Sidney?’ Nat demanded, reasoning that attack was the best form of defence. ‘Why aren’t you with your brother?’

  ‘What am I doing here? What are you doing here?’ Sid whispered. ‘Pearl told me she saw my car arrive ages ago and a woman arguing with–’

  ‘Hello, Sidney.’ David stepped out into the open.

  ‘Oh, ah, hi. My mother–’

  ‘Your mother came to view the gallery,’ he said convincingly. ‘And whatever Pearl thinks she saw, I’ll make sure to remind her that she should know the difference between an argument and a healthy debate about what is and isn’t art. She’s seen me have enough of them.’ David paused to glance in Natalie’s direction. ‘I’d suggest what Pearl saw was someone passionate about artistic expression. Your mother is, in fact, coming back tomorrow so we can continue our discussion and tour of the gallery. Isn’t that right, Natalie?’

  Sidney was a statue, her eyelids the only thing moving, her gaze dancing back and forth. She was probably already joining the dots. Once bewilderment passed, the interrogation would begin and Natalie would need to be prepared with some answers.

  ‘Isn’t that right, Natalie?’ David asked again, gently prompting her for a response.

  ‘Oh, yes. I would dearly love to continue our, ah, debate. Tomorrow is an excellent idea.’

  ‘Pearl told me you were closing the gallery for a few days,’ Sid said.

  ‘Yes, that’s right. In the circumstances I thought it best. For your mother, I’ll make an exception.’

  ‘So you can look after your brother, Sidney,’ Natalie headed for the car. ‘Thank you so much for today.’ She looked at David, adding, ‘For everything. Are you coming with me, Sid?

  ‘I’ll see you at the villa, Mum.’

  44

  Watercolour Cove, 2015

  Something about the way Natalie had said goodbye was giving those puzzle pieces in Sid’s head a bit of a stir. Her mother, usually a highly-strung control freak, had seemed unusually vague and clumsy.

  With Natalie and the Jeep now out of sight, Sid turned to David. ‘Don’t look like that,’ she said.

  ‘I didn’t kno
w I had a look.’

  ‘Yeah, you do. It’s that oh-no-here’s-the-daughter look.’

  ‘Hmm, I have no idea what one of those might look like. Where’s a mirror when I need one?’

  ‘I’m just saying, I don’t take after my mother. At least not in the attack pit-bull way.’

  ‘If you say so.’ His gaze went to the Kombi van and back to Sid.

  ‘I can see you were expecting Pearl,’ she said. ‘Nice paint job, by the way.’

  ‘Not something I would normally do, but Pearl was keen and . . . Well, she’s been a good friend to me–a good and generous spirit.’

  ‘She was lovely enough to loan me her car. She said mine was up here–apparently. With my mother–apparently.’

  ‘So you drove up here to get your car?’

  Sid didn’t miss the sarcasm. ‘No, I drove up to save you. From what Pearl said, I guessed good old Natalie was in full Jake Protection Mode and letting you know what she thinks about unsafe work practices, or something like that.’

  ‘Or something,’ he said, vaguely. ‘You’ll have to excuse me, Sidney.’

  As David fumbled to control his walking sticks and staggered off, Sid marvelled at his sudden clumsiness, in such contrast to his normal ease and confidence. Something had stirred him up, all right.

  ‘David, wait! I’m sorry.’ Sid ran around in front of him so he didn’t have to turn back towards her. ‘Please,’ she said, forced to walk backwards as David was not stopping.

  ‘Please what? What are you sorry for?’

  ‘I-I don’t know. For whatever my mother said. What did she say?’

  Sid was thankful he stopped. ‘Your mother loves her children, Sidney.’

  ‘Yes, but–’

  ‘That’s all.’ David suddenly found his confidence again, his powerful strides leaving Sidney struggling to talk and walk backwards at the same time.

  ‘Can you slow down, at least? I have something to say.’

  He stopped to stare Sid down. ‘Then say it. But be careful.’

  ‘Careful?’ Sid cocked her head. Not only did the riddle challenge her full-to-bursting brain, how come the man was suddenly sounding like a father warning a wayward daughter?

  ‘Words are not like art that can be erased, painted over, tossed away and started again–a fresh canvas. Words are more like toothpaste. Once they’re out there’s no putting them back in again. Remember that before you say anything, Sidney.’

  David strode off towards the path to his cottage, leaving a gobsmacked Sidney shaking her head.

  Well, that went well!

  45

  Watercolour Cove, 2015

  ‘Brrrr, tonight could freeze the balls off a pool table, sis!’ Jake sat down and wrapped an arm around Sid’s shoulders so they could share the blanket. ‘Aren’t you cold out here?’

  ‘It’s warmer than it is inside the villa with Mum.’

  ‘She’s gone to bed. You two really need to pull your heads in. Honestly, sis, cut her some slack. You’re going to be a mother soon enough. Karma, remember?’

  ‘I know, I know, but something’s not right.’ Her words shocked her brother ramrod straight.

  ‘With the baby?’

  ‘No, no, relax, Jake. The baby’s fine. I have one hell of a headache, and my back is pinching, but neither ailment concerns me as much as Mum’s moods.’ Sid rubbed her stomach, flinching when the same sharp pain radiated from her back to her abdomen. ‘When I found her up at the gallery today with David, I swear something was going on. She and the boss were acting like naughty schoolkids caught out behind the school shed. You know what I mean?’

  ‘Flippin’ fishcakes, Sid! I know what I got up to behind the shed and I do not want to be thinking that about my mother.’

  ‘Be serious, Jake. I’m saying that Mum’s not taken an interest in any man since Dad died. David is a nice guy and–’

  ‘Nice guy? Since when? You said he was . . . Let me see . . .’ He held up a hand and started counting on his fingers. ‘Rude, arrogant–’

  ‘That was before.’

  ‘Before what?’

  ‘Before I spent the night with him.’

  ‘You what?’

  ‘Not like that, Jake. We sat up most of last night talking. Once we found common ground, he was easy to connect with. We talked a lot about his art. He has the same passion as Mum. Do you understand what I’m saying?’

  ‘Nup! And I don’t think I want to.’

  ‘You remember what Dad was like when it came to Mum’s art, or her gallery stuff? He didn’t get it. People have to get each other, or else there’s no connection.’

  ‘I get that,’ Jake said, smiling. ‘So what are you saying, Sid?’

  ‘I don’t know, except when I turned up and witnessed them together David was guarded and awkward and Mum acted really weird–kind of nervous and giddy. That was until she went back to being Mum.’

  ‘You mean she went ballistic?’

  ‘Not quite, Jake, but seeing her with a man got me thinking about how nice it would be if she was to meet someone–like David. Maybe that’s what she needs in her life.’

  ‘Are you matchmaking Mum? Wow! You reckon you haven’t pushed her buttons enough already?’

  ‘If Mum got a life for herself she might stop trying to control ours.’

  ‘Good point.’ Jake stood to stretch, leaving the blanket behind for Sid. ‘I like your thinking, sis, but you’re on your own. I treasure my life too much.’

  ‘Wuss!’ Sid giggled, drawing the blanket around her body. ‘Maybe this trip wasn’t about our grandfather, but fate. Do you believe in fate?’

  ‘I’m learning to,’ Jake said, surprising her.

  Her brother was starting to surprise Sid in lots of ways. She remembered lying in her bed at Brushstrokes before the trip, hoping some good might come out of this expedition. At the very least she might learn more about her father’s side of the family. Not for a moment did she think Jake would fall in love, or that Natalie, who hadn’t been privy to Sid’s plans, would even factor into things. David had said he and her mother intended catching up again tomorrow. Perhaps this might be the start of something. Two like-minded adults spending time with each other.

  According to Pearl, the gallery was closing for a while, which was good, as Sid could do with a day in bed. She was feeling a little bloated and the headache that had started a few days ago was hanging around. A day alone to rest might also allow Sid the time and mental capacity to complete the puzzle she’d been working on. There were dots to join in David’s story and she was determined to see the full picture.

  Rest, yes. That’s what she’d do tomorrow. Sid would say she needed a lazy day and that Natalie should take the Jeep and take David up on his offer of a personal gallery inspection. Then she would let nature–or fate–take its course.

  46

  Watercolour Cove, 2015

  Thankful Sid had decided to rest, Natalie drove her daughter’s car to Greenhill. She’d barely slept last night, too keen to pick up where she and David had left off yesterday, before Sid had arrived in Pearl’s car and surprised them both. The awkward parting had left so much unsaid and, not knowing if David might have had second thoughts overnight, Natalie now approached the Greenhill plantation road with some trepidation.

  Part way up the hill, she nosed the car onto the flattened area where forklifts had once darted about, stacking and shifting pallets loaded with banana cartons. Needing to breathe some oxygen into her lungs and clear her head, she climbed out of the car, and with a sense of nostalgia peered inside the old shed. Her gaze then shifted to the hillside behind, up to the rocky outcrop that pinpointed the secret cave, and over to the right and along the road to where it forked. She thought about how many times she and Albie had trudged along that roadway each school day, until Ulf had taken Albie out of school and put him to work.

  Poor Albie. He’d been thinner than spaghetti when Natalie last met with him, in Sydney. He looked unwell and his hands shook
terribly. The trembling had made getting the flat white coffee to his mouth so difficult he’d given up and pushed the cup and saucer aside.

  ‘I don’t have long,’ Natalie had told him the minute she sat down in the busy corner café.

  ‘Me either. Thanks for seeing me,’ he said.

  ‘What do you want, Albie?’

  ‘I want to know. Is she mine?’

  Nat had been on tenterhooks over this so-called get-together all week, but determined to maintain her composure until the end. Albie’s question had lit a fire under her, threatening to melt the semblance of cool. ‘What are you talking about?’

  ‘Your daughter. I was a kid back then. I know better now. I was your backup plan, wasn’t I?’

  ‘For God’s sake, Albie, don’t do this.’ The angry response, sparked by fear and a feeling of being violated and tricked into meeting, only inflamed the situation. ‘We’re supposed to be enjoying a friendly catch-up. Don’t start something–’

  ‘I didn’t start anything, Tilly. You did that when you took me into your bed.’

  Albie began to cry, and people at nearby tables started to look. The Natalie of old might have walked away, but remorse glued her to the chair.

  ‘Come on, Albie. Buck up. Let’s start over, shall we?’

  This was Albie–as close to a brother as she knew. If her childhood with an addict for a mother had been hard, poor Albie’s past was ten times worse.

  ‘Did you ever find your mum?’ she asked, hoping to steer the conversation and Albie’s interest away from Sidney. ‘You told me once you tried.’

  ‘No, but now I have this bunch of people helping me, and others like me, reconnect with family.’

  ‘Others like you? What does that mean?’

  ‘It’s all a part of the royal commission into abuse. I’m testifying.’

  ‘Albie, that’s really brave of you.’

  He shrugged. ‘I don’t call it brave. After I left Dinghy Bay I tried to get help. Lots of people thought they were doing good. Some helped a bit. A couple of shrinks thought they could make a difference, but the sessions only brought all the memories back, forcing me to relive the things those priests made me do. I didn’t want to remember the beatings in the shower block and the long nights I’d spent lying in the dark, listening, pretending to sleep, dreading them coming to get me.’

 

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