The Art of Friendship

by Lisa Ireland

  She wondered how her Passat would measure up at Claybourne. Probably not that well if the school lived up to its reputation. Perhaps now they didn’t have to worry about the mortgage Cam would think about buying a new car. He would have a company car, so surely they could afford to upgrade to something a little more luxurious. Nothing too extravagant, of course. Perhaps a small Volvo. Or an Audi. Kate drove a navy Audi and Libby’d always been just a little envious. It wasn’t as if they couldn’t afford one now, but Cam was careful with money. He was obsessed with paying off the mortgage and saving for an early retirement. So despite his quite reasonable salary Libby always felt as if they weren’t quite making the grade among their social set. She’d had to work on him for over a year to get him to agree to the renovations. In fact it was her desire to renovate that had led to her part-time job at the community centre. Not that she made an enormous amount of money, but it had proved to Cam how badly she wanted to update the house.

  Hopefully now that he’d secured this new job Cam would loosen the purse strings a little. Surely he’d see the sense of making a few concessions to fit in? Because heaven forbid they be the family that none of the others wanted to associate with. These things were important. Her own experience as an outsider at boarding school had taught her that acceptance could be a tricky thing. The conversation with Kit yesterday had freshened her memory of exactly what being the new kid at school could be like.

  At the end of year nine Kit had been devastated that they were to be separated the following year. It seemed their world had changed overnight. Against the odds, Libby scored herself a scholarship to Underhill Girls’ Grammar in Geelong. That same summer Kit’s pa died, leaving his house in Yarraville to Kit’s mum. While Libby had commiserated with Kit about this turn of events that would see them not only at different schools but living in different suburbs, secretly she was excited about leaving Wyndham Secondary College. Moving schools was an opportunity to reinvent herself. She would no longer be that girl. The one everyone talked about behind her back. At Underhill she could start afresh; be anyone she liked.

  But as it turned out fitting in wasn’t quite so simple. She’d thought that if she was friendly, if she styled her hair the right way, and knew which bands were popular, she’d be in with a fighting chance. But at Underhill none of those things had helped. What mattered there was having the right brand of shoes, rounding your vowels a certain way and not having your parents pick you up from school for a weekend visit in a Corolla. It had taken her months of carefully modifying her speech, inventing reasons why she should catch the train home rather than be collected and practising a nonchalance towards others before she’d finally been accepted into the fold.

  Those first lonely months weren’t something she’d wish on her worst enemy, let alone her own child. Harry’s social life would be doomed if they were perceived as undesirables, and she wasn’t going to let that happen. Because that’s what all this was about, wasn’t it? Making a better life for Harry?

  Melissa nudged her. ‘Libby, are you okay there? Nic’s been waving the champagne bottle in your direction for quite some time and you haven’t so much as blinked.’

  ‘I’m fine. Just thinking about how much we’ll miss you all.’

  ‘Naw, come here, you.’ Nicole wrapped her arms around Libby in a tight hug. ‘We’ll miss you too.’

  When Nic let go Melissa came to stand beside her. ‘You haven’t really given us any details, though, Lib. Exactly what is so great about this place that you’d be willing to leave us all behind?’

  Libby pulled her phone from her pocket and opened the email Cam had forwarded her with the photos of the house. ‘Well, there’s this,’ she said, handing Melissa the phone. She couldn’t help but feel a tiny bit gleeful as Melissa’s eyes widened, first in surprise and then, if she wasn’t mistaken, envy.

  ‘Wow, that is one spectacular house.’ Melissa passed the phone to Kate, who nodded her approval.

  ‘Where is this place again?’ Nicole asked as she looked at the photos over Kate’s shoulder.

  ‘Arcadia Lakes. It’s a new development – well, only a few years old. The company develops exclusive communities, apparently. Cam says the idea is they’re selling a “lifestyle”, so when people buy into the area they don’t just get a house, they automatically get membership of the Arcadia Club, which seems to be like a country club thing. It’s kind of like living in a resort, I guess.’

  Kate screwed up her nose. ‘Sounds like a retirement village.’

  Libby laughed. ‘It might be, who knows? But for three years of free rent, I’m willing to give it a go.’

  ‘It’s certainly a lovely home,’ Melissa said. ‘So do all the company employees have to live in the development? That seems a bit weird to me.’

  Libby shook her head. ‘No, I don’t think anyone has to live there, but the executives are all offered a home in the development rent free for a period as an incentive. I guess the hope is that once people see how great it is they’ll want to buy the place at the end of their contract. I think Cam said some of the other employees get subsided housing there too, so I imagine quite a few people would take up that offer.’

  ‘Won’t that be a bit difficult for Cam?’ Nicole asked. ‘Living right next door to people he has to work with?’

  Libby shrugged. ‘I don’t know. But it’s a big development, so it’s not as if everyone he works with will be living in our street. At least I hope they won’t.’ She laughed nervously. God, what if Kate was right and it was like living in some cultish enclave?

  ‘Well, it looks pretty good to me.’ Melissa smiled and gave her Queen Bee nod of approval. ‘And it looks like you’ll have plenty of room for guests in your new home so we best start planning a girls’ weekend away in Melbourne. What do you think?’

  Libby smiled. Everything was going to be all right. She could move to Melbourne and keep her friends. She’d managed to stay friends with Kit all these years without being in the same town, so there was no reason she couldn’t do the same thing with her Sydney tribe. ‘I think that’s a fantastic idea, Mel. Let’s put a tentative date in the calendar right now.’

  Chapter 5

  Kit doodled on the printed agenda in front of her, not really listening to Maureen’s speech about the new fundraising campaign they were being asked to support. Not that the campaign was without merit. In fact Kit had been the one to bring the cause – a project aimed at providing homeless women with free access to pads and tampons – to Maureen’s attention months ago, but today she was simply too excited to pay close attention to the staff meeting. Once this meeting was over it would officially be the weekend. But not just any old weekend. This was the weekend Libby and Harry were moving to Melbourne. Oh, and Cameron too. Normally she didn’t give Cam much thought but right now she felt more fondly towards him than she ever had. She’d been hoping for this day for almost twenty years and apparently she had Cameron to thank for her wish coming true.

  Arcadia Lakes was a place where a bloke like Cameron would definitely fit in. It was a new suburb on the outskirts of Altona, so not even a fifteen-minute drive away from Kit’s home in Yarraville, but it was a completely different world. Kit had only been there once. She and one of the younger counsellors, Caitlin, had conducted a course on consent at Claybourne Grammar, a fancy private school that serviced the suburb, after some of the male students had been caught up in a sexual harassment scandal. The school had acted swiftly to protect its reputation and the course had been part of its crisis management strategy. The assistant principal had uttered all the right words when he’d briefed her on the situation, but Kit couldn’t help but wonder if the course was more about ticking off an item on his reputation-recovery list, rather than a genuine attempt to bring about any real change in the attitudes of the students. Nevertheless, she and Caitlin had snapped up the opportunity to work with them.

  Despite living reasonably close by,
neither she nor Caitlin had ventured into the new suburb before, so they’d plugged the school’s address into Google Maps on the phone and set out from the office. Claybourne was an old school, with a campus in the heart of Williamstown, but the school population had outgrown its original allotment and a new campus had been built on the edge of Arcadia Lakes. The houses on either side of the wide sweeping boulevards that led to the school were massive. ‘McMansions,’ she’d said to Caitlin, who’d merely nodded in response. To Kit’s amazement there was a set of manned gates to negotiate at the school’s entrance and then a drive past pristine lawns and well-kept gardens to get to the visitor car park. It was hard to believe she was still in Melbourne’s west. Manicured as the suburb was, it struck Kit as kind of soulless. ‘Who the hell would want to live here?’ she’d asked.

  Apparently Cameron and Libby wanted to. At least Cameron did. Lib had no idea what the place was like and there was no way Kit was about to enlighten her. She didn’t want to do anything that might discourage the move. Libby would be horrified by this place, of course, but it was close to Kit’s and to the city, so that would make up for her having to live in a plastic enclave. And it wasn’t as if she had to spend all her time there. No doubt she’d finally go back to her studies once the summer was over and then she’d be so busy that she wouldn’t have time to worry about the fact that she was living in such a strange environment. If she and Cameron decided to make Melbourne their permanent home – and why wouldn’t they when the people they loved most in the world were all here? – then surely they’d buy somewhere more suitable.

  Once the staff meeting was over, Kit decided to walk to Flinders Street station, rather than take the tram. It was a warm Melbourne day and the trams were all packed. It was cooler to walk, and she decided to detour down Flinders Lane and Degraves Street so she could grab an iced coffee from her favourite hole in the wall café on the way. She couldn’t believe that the move was happening so quickly. It was just over two weeks since Harry had called to give her the news. It was really happening. Tomorrow they would be here!

  As she walked she was seeing her city through fresh eyes. Libby’s eyes. How she would love being back in her hometown after all these years. Kit’s heart leapt at the thought of Libby and her traipsing through the city’s laneways and arcades, stopping for coffee or a wine. Or sharing yum cha in Chinatown. She couldn’t wait to introduce her to all Yarraville’s local eateries. The place had changed a lot since Libby was a Melburnian and it had been ages since they’d been out locally.

  Most of Libby’s visits home were divided between her parents’ place at Woodvale and whichever posh five-star hotel Cameron favoured in the city. The family had occasionally stayed with Jude for a night or two in the house where Kit now lived – her pa’s old house – but the visits were always timed to coincide with an occasion: Boxing Day, New Year’s Eve, or a milestone birthday. Until she’d inherited the Yarraville house, Kit had lived in a tiny unit in Seddon, which hadn’t been big enough to entertain in, let alone have overnight guests. So there hadn’t been much opportunity for perusing the local neighbourhood with Libby. But that was about to change.

  As she boarded the train, Kit started to make a mental list of all the places she wanted to show Libby and Harry. Her heart swelled at the thought of taking her godson to the footy on a regular basis. She’d got her football obsession from her grandfather, who’d apparently been quite the player in his time. Her mum had never been a fan of the sport, thinking it was brutish, but her pa had often taken her to games on weekends when her mum had to work and he’d infused a passion for the game in her that she was unable to shed. Unfortunately it wasn’t a passion shared by most of her work colleagues, who found her interest in the game at odds with her feminist ideals. But with the women’s league gaining popularity Kit knew it wouldn’t be long before they saw the light. Anyway, it would be great to have Harry to take to games.

  Libby’s flight got in at eleven tomorrow morning and Kit had offered to pick them all up from the airport, but apparently the company had organised a driver for them. Libby suggested Kit give her a few hours to settle in and then come on over in the afternoon for a drink, which seemed like a good plan. Kit was hoping by then Cam might have hit the golf course, so she could have Libby to herself for a while.

  And if he didn’t, well, what did it matter? Libby was going to be here permanently now. They had all the time in the world.

  *

  The following morning Kit rose early – well, early for her on a Saturday – so she could walk up to Anderson Street and buy a few little delicacies for this afternoon’s welcome drinks. She chose an expensive wheel of King Island brie and a wedge of the blue as well. She’d already stocked up on Libby’s favourite bubbles – Veuve Clicquot, if you don’t mind. Personally Kit was happy with a cheaper local option, but this was a special occasion, so she didn’t mind forking out for the good stuff. After picking up some decent olive oil and a tub of freshly made hummus, Kit made her final stop at the bakery for a baguette. And she grabbed a couple of extra treats while she was there. Harry was a sucker for a vanilla slice.

  By the time she’d walked home and unpacked her shopping it was after eleven. They should have touched down by now. As the thought crossed her mind her phone pinged with a message.

  Just disembarking now. Nice of you to put on the good weather! See you soon!!! L xx

  Kit actually jumped up and down for joy. The last time she was this happy was when the Doggies had won the flag. Startled at this uncharacteristic behaviour, Hugo leapt from the kitchen chair he’d been sitting on and in the process sent a crochet-covered cushion – one of Libby’s handmade originals – flying through the air.

  Kit laughed. ‘Sorry, puss, but Mama’s happy. The person she loves most in the world – besides you, of course – is coming home.’

  The cat miaowed in disgust as he left the room.

  Kit felt like a kid on Christmas Eve. It wouldn’t be long until she could hug her best friend, but right now three hours seemed like a lifetime. She attempted to fill the time by doing her laundry and some much needed housework. She’d hoped to clean out the spare room before Libby’s family moved, just in case Libby changed her mind about using the room as a studio, but it was busy at the women’s centre this time of year and she’d been working even longer hours than usual. The room clearing had been put on the backburner, but now she needed something to occupy her, at least for a little while. It was as good a time as any to make a start.

  The wardrobe was filled with her mother’s things – old clothes, photo albums, costume jewellery and God only knew what else. It had been ten months since her mother left.

  Died.

  Jude was dead, a fact she had to keep reminding herself of. It had happened so suddenly, so unexpectedly, that Kit struggled to accept the permanence of the situation. With the house still overflowing with her mother’s possessions, at first it had been easy to slip into the belief that Jude was simply on an extended sojourn to Byron or Ubud.

  Libby had been concerned about Kit’s decision to move back into the house after her mother died.

  ‘It makes sense,’ Kit’d said at the time. ‘Now Mum’s gone the house is mine. What’s the point of paying rent somewhere else?’

  ‘Financially it makes perfect sense, I get that. But maybe you want to take some time to sort through your mum’s things before you up and move. It might be hard to live there surrounded by so much of her stuff. Emotionally, I mean.’

  Kit had shrugged. ‘It’s hard anyway. I don’t know, maybe it’ll be comforting to be surrounded by her things.’

  It was comforting at first. But in the end she found Libby was right. Being surrounded by all her mum’s things was suffocating. The constant reminders of what she’d lost were crippling. She found it hard to work, and equally hard to relax. She couldn’t even watch TV without seeing the ugly red vase that sat on the table besid
e it. That triggered a memory of the op shop where she’d bought it as a Mother’s Day present and the next thing she knew she was watching Q&A through eyes blurred with tears. It was fucking exhausting.

  So she’d dragged as much stuff as she could into her mother’s bedroom and closed the door. The room she was in now – the spare room – contained the overflow. Her bedroom, the kitchen and the living room had been cleared of almost all trace of her mother. With the doors closed and no need to access those two other bedrooms it had been easy to put off the task of sorting through her mother’s belongings. But now she really needed to get on with it.

  She decided to drag out the boxes containing her old research notes and uni work and store them in the backyard shed. It was a bit damp in there, but if she wrapped the boxes in garbage bags they’d surely be okay. That would just leave the memorabilia to go through. It took an hour to drag all the boxes of files outside and secure them with plastic and by the time she was done she was dusty and sweaty. She went back to the bedroom to survey the results of her labour and was pretty satisfied with what she’d achieved. The few cartons left in the bedroom had toys, old clothes and photos in them so could stay where they were for the time being, but there was one box marked ‘Miscellaneous’. She unfolded the cardboard flaps to see what it contained and grinned at what she found. It was filled to the brim with old letters and cards. Mum was such a softie. She’d kept everything – from old Mother’s Day cards to the letters and postcards Kit had written home from her various trips overseas. Kit dug into the box and pulled out a pile of letters. She recognised the mauve envelope on top immediately. It was addressed to her in Libby’s loopy teenage handwriting. She smiled as she removed the wafer thin pages and realised they were still lightly scented with 4711, Libby’s perfume of choice during her formative years.