Trip of a Lifetime

by Liz Byrski

  *

  ‘Children!’ Ellis said in horror as Heather turned into Barbara’s driveway, where Toby and another boy were dragging a large Esky from the back of Adam’s car. ‘You didn’t mention children . . .’

  Toby abandoned his helper, bounded over to them and flung open Heather’s car door. ‘Aunty Heather, I’m making a model of the gun that shot you. It’s a kit, come and see. I haven’t painted it yet, but when I have I could make another one for you, if you like.’

  ‘Really, Toby? That’s very kind of you,’ Heather said. ‘This is Ellis.’

  ‘Hi,’ Toby said, nodding in Ellis’s direction. ‘And I’ve got a picture of the bullets for you too, I found it on the Internet. I think I’m going to start collecting bullets, so if you don’t want yours could I have it, please?’

  Ellis snorted and got out of the car.

  ‘The police have it, Toby,’ Heather explained. ‘It’s evidence.’

  ‘When they’ve caught him, then?’

  ‘I doubt it,’ Heather said. ‘I think they keep those things for years. Anyway, I’d like to see your model. D’you want to get my bag out of the boot for me?’

  ‘More children,’ said Ellis, flattening himself against the side of the car as Daisy raced up the path with George’s grandchildren in pursuit.

  ‘I’m in charge of Aunty Barbara’s presents,’ Daisy announced, looking suspiciously at Ellis. ‘So you can give your present to me and I’ll look after it.’

  ‘I don’t have a present,’ Ellis said. ‘Who are you, anyway?’

  ‘I’m Daisy, and these are Gareth and Emily and that’s Simon over there with Toby, they’re Uncle George’s grandchildren.’

  ‘You didn’t tell me there’d be children,’ Ellis said, looking accusingly at Heather over the top of the car.

  ‘Family party,’ she smiled. ‘Bound to be children. They’re all quite civilised really, just excited.’

  ‘You should’ve brought a present,’ Daisy said. ‘Everyone else has.’

  ‘Heather’s brought a present,’ Ellis said. ‘I just brought flowers. You can look after those, if you like, they’re in the boot. My name is Ellis, by the way.’

  Daisy pulled a face, clapped a hand over her mouth and rolled her eyes. ‘That’s a silly name,’ she said. ‘Poor you. I’ll get the flowers. I hope they’re not carnations because Aunty Barbara hates carnations.’

  ‘They’re not carnations,’ Ellis said.

  ‘Phew! That’s a relief.’ Daisy raced around the car, kissed Heather, grabbed the flowers from the boot and headed off to the house, followed by her entourage.

  ‘Amazing,’ said Ellis, who was not keen on children, including his own.

  ‘When did you last see your grandchildren?’ Heather asked, locking the car door.

  ‘Never,’ Ellis said. ‘I told you, they live in Adelaide.’

  ‘It’s not all that far away, you must have visited –’

  ‘No,’ Ellis said. ‘Never. Has the boy taken your bag or do you need me to carry it in for you?’

  George was standing in the sitting room watching the children chase each other around the front lawn, and feeling a pleasant sense of anticipation. He was frequently at a loss for ways to show Barbara how much he appreciated her. How much he really loved her. He’d never said it, of course, not ‘I love you, Barbara’. It seemed too difficult, as though it might be attached to all sorts of expectations. He was pretty sure that she didn’t want or need him to say it, that it would embarrass her, that she would turn to him with that indulgent smile that she never gave anyone else and tell him not to be such an old fool. No, he wouldn’t say it, but he hoped she knew.

  ‘Suppose we’d met years ago,’ he’d said to her one evening after a couple of glasses of wine. ‘D’you think we’d have got married?’

  ‘I’ve put a good bit of effort into avoiding marriage,’ she’d said with a laugh. ‘I expect I’d have managed to avoid it with you too.’

  ‘I reckon we’d have been good together,’ George responded. ‘Right time, right circumstances, we’d have made a go of it.’

  She’d turned to look at him then. ‘You never know,’ she said. ‘Maybe I would have made an exception in your case.’

  Well, he’d organised the party, her first ever, he was very happy about that and they were off to China together. So many of his old friends and colleagues had already dropped off their perches or were living half-lives alone watching daytime television with a cask of red and shaking their fists at kids on skateboards. That could have been him if fate hadn’t generously decided that his retirement and his potentially lonely life as a widower should run parallel to Barbara’s. What a stroke of luck that was. Sometimes it even made him think there might be a god.

  ‘Why are you skulking in here, George?’ Barbara asked, popping her head around the open door.

  ‘I’m not skulking, just watching the kids,’ George said.

  She joined him at the window. ‘Jill’s made a beautiful birthday cake with candles. It even has my name and happy birthday written on it.’

  ‘Thank goodness for that,’ he answered. ‘I’d completely forgotten about a cake.’

  ‘You thought of everything else,’ Barbara said. ‘There’s enough food and wine in the kitchen to feed several rugby teams.’

  ‘Forgot to invite them too. But better too much than not enough, that’s what my mother would have said.’

  ‘Mine would have talked about greed being an offence before the Lord,’ Barbara said. ‘I still feel rather guilty about it but I’m embracing the concept of abundance.’

  ‘So you should,’ George said, glancing out of the window. ‘You are a very generous person, time to be on the receiving end. Good lord, what the hell’s Ellis Hargreaves doing here?’

  Barbara peered over his shoulder. ‘Oh, that must be Heather’s new man, the old boyfriend I told you about. Do you know him?’

  ‘You mean that man is going to be sleeping in my house?’

  ‘Yes,’ Barbara said, ‘you suggested it.’

  ‘You didn’t tell me it was Ellis Hargreaves.’

  ‘How was I to know you knew him?’ Barbara said. ‘Anyway, he looks nice, very good looking.’

  ‘Arrogant bastard,’ George said. ‘Defended some pond life that tried to poison a whole batch of fertiliser on a strawberry farm. Could’ve killed anyone who ate the strawberries. I was an expert witness for the prosecution.’

  ‘Oh dear,’ Barbara said, watching Heather and Ellis talking to each other over the top of the car. ‘Well, he was just doing his job. I’m sure he’s a very nice person.’

  ‘I doubt it,’ George said, ‘but for your sake, my very dear Barbara, I will be a model of civility.’

  ‘Thank you, George,’ she said, leaning over to kiss his cheek. ‘And for Heather’s sake too.’

  ‘For Heather’s sake too,’ he repeated, ‘but mostly for you,’ and he returned her kiss.

  ‘I’ve put the house up for sale,’ Diane told Shaun on the drive to Morpeth. ‘I’m going to look for somewhere smaller, somewhere just for me.’

  ‘Sounds like a good idea,’ Shaun said. ‘It’s a very big house.’

  ‘Yes, but it’s not just that. It’s full of the past. I want to get away from that. Charlene’s got a new life, it’s time I got one too.’

  Shaun looked at her briefly before turning back to the road. ‘That sounds even better. Very positive.’ He was surprised how much he liked Diane now. Women seemed to dominate his life these days – older women, especially. A couple of weeks earlier, at a conference he’d attended in place of Heather, he’d met a woman called Rosa Hartman, who was an expert in voting patterns and ran her own political consultancy. They’d had lunch together both days and Shaun had felt his old enthusiasm for the big issues returning. Working in the electorate office it was easy to get blinkered by smaller, local issues, but talking to Rosa had reminded him of his earlier ambitions and made him restless.

  He slowed down
for some traffic lights and looked again at Diane. ‘Have you heard from Charlene?’

  ‘This morning,’ Diane said. ‘She loves it up there. She’s moved into a flat with a couple of other girls who work at the resort. She sounded really happy and settled. She even said something nice about you.’

  Shaun raised his eyebrows. ‘Things are looking up.’

  Diane laughed. ‘Yes, well, it’s all thanks to you. So, tonight we’ll get a look at Heather’s friend. You’ve met him, haven’t you?’

  ‘Only once,’ Shaun said. ‘In Sydney, just after he’d been apprehended by the police, so it probably wasn’t the best time.’

  ‘And?’

  Shaun shrugged. ‘He seemed okay, bit condescending maybe but, as I said, he probably wasn’t at his best.’ He slowed again as the lights changed to red, and drew to a halt, turning towards her. ‘He wasn’t the sort of person I’d ever imagined Heather with,’ he said. ‘Not the sort of person at all.’

  ‘Really? Sometimes it’s hard to know what people see in each other,’ Diane said. ‘And it’s harder still to look back on your own relationships and wonder what you once saw in a person. I guess we all have to kiss a few frogs before the right person comes along, and one person’s frog is another’s prince. I always thought Heather was through with frogs and princes, but someone from the past has a certain magic and mystery, I suppose.’

  ‘So I gather you’re not too keen on Ellis Hargreaves?’ George said, putting a glass of his best Pinot into Adam’s hand.

  ‘You could say that, but I’ve promised to be discreet and civilised.’

  ‘Me too.’

  ‘You mean you know him?’ Adam said in surprise.

  ‘I’ve met him,’ George said. ‘In court. And you could say I’ve followed his career with interest.’

  ‘And?’

  ‘Well, there’s no doubt he was a first-rate criminal lawyer, and someone has to defend the criminal classes and those innocents who somehow get on the wrong side of the system. But he does seem to have made a habit of successfully defending people who are later revealed to be guilty as hell.’

  ‘I’m sure Heather would tell me that’s simply because he was good at his job,’ Adam said.

  ‘That may be so, but there’s something about him that makes me feel it was more about the Hargreaves ego than about protecting the rights of the accused. I don’t think we’re talking principles here.’

  Adam sipped his wine and held the glass up to the fading light. ‘That wouldn’t surprise me at all,’ he said.

  ‘He tells me he’s into something else now,’ George said, gesturing to Adam to walk with him to the barbecue, where Toby and Simon were tinkering with the charcoal. ‘Said he’d done a sea change thing, reassessed his values, and he’s in the business of helping people find their true selves through life-coaching.’

  ‘So I heard,’ Adam said with a laugh. ‘What total crap.’

  ‘Apparently he’s got a PR consultant working on it, and they’re developing a marketing plan. Head to heart – rat race to mind – body something or other – something in there about setting spiritual goals, I believe.’

  ‘Oh, for fuck’s sake,’ Adam said. ‘If Ellis Hargreaves has a spiritual bone in his body, then I’m the Pope.’

  George picked up a pair of barbecue tongs and handed them to Toby. ‘You can start putting the steaks on now. Toby, and Simon, can you run inside and bring the chicken and prawns out of the fridge, please.’ He paused to watch his grandson head off to the back door at a run. ‘I think your chances of being Pope are slim, Adam,’ he said. ‘Hargreaves is about as spiritual as my arse, but I suspect he believes his own publicity and that he’s developed all the right language to sell this crap to people with more money than sense.’

  ‘He’s probably selling it to Heather too,’ Adam said, ‘and she’s in just the right state of mind to fall for it.’

  ‘And I have to have him in my house,’ George said as the first steaks sizzled on the grill. ‘The things we do for those we love.’

  ‘Are you part of the family too?’ Diane asked as Stefan came over to her with a bottle to top up her glass.

  He shook his head. ‘Sadly, no. But I am what is called a hanging-on.’ He held out his hand. ‘Stefan, I am in the orchestra with Adam.’

  ‘Diane,’ she said, shaking hands. ‘I’m a hanger-on too.’

  ‘Ah! Hanger-on, yes; sorry, I am still doing the battle with English. So, where do you do the hanging-on?’

  ‘In Heather’s office,’ Diane said. ‘I was a volunteer but someone’s sick and so now I’m doing her job while she’s away.’

  Stefan sat down beside her. ‘It is very pretty here,’ he said, looking up at the trees that George had hung with fairy lights. ‘George has done it very nicely, I think.’ He turned to her. ‘And which gentleman is your husband?’

  ‘I don’t have a husband,’ Diane said. ‘I’m divorced.’

  ‘I’m sorry,’ Stefan said.

  ‘Don’t be, I’m not. I was for a very long time and now I’m not. And you?’

  ‘My wife is dead,’ he said without looking up. ‘She and my daughter, they are killed in Kosovo bombing. Collateral damage, it is called. This is one expression I never get wrong.’

  ‘How terrible for you,’ Diane said. ‘I can’t even begin to imagine how you must feel. But you’re here, playing in the orchestra. How did you get your life together –’

  ‘Anger,’ Stefan said, looking up at her now. ‘I am so angry I want to kill anyone who talks to me. So, I have to leave, to get away from places where I see them always, the house, the street, my daughter’s school. It is the only way I can live again.’

  ‘You’re not angry now, though.’

  ‘Sometimes yes, but I learn to live with it. I turn it into gratitude.’

  ‘Gratitude?’

  He shrugged. ‘For their lives, for the time I had with them, for my survival, for being here in this beautiful country.’

  ‘But what about the grief, the bitterness?’

  ‘The grief does not go away. Seven years and each day I am grieving still, but bitterness?’ Stefan sighed. ‘You know, Diane, I think that I am spared and that means I must live a good life. I must not be eating it up with being angry and bitter. Do you not think?’

  Diane had a sudden urge to touch him, as though some of his serenity and wisdom might rub off on her. She put her hand on his arm and he smiled, reaching up and putting his hand on top of hers. ‘I think you are absolutely right,’ she said. ‘I haven’t had to face anything like that and yet I’ve wasted the last two years of my life plunging around in my own sea of anger and bitterness. And now suddenly it’s changed and I can see I have the chance to be different, to do what I want. I just can’t work out what that is.’

  Stefan laughed. ‘I know this feeling,’ he said. ‘One minute it is full of power and opportunities, the next minute it is just confusion and emptiness.’

  ‘Exactly.’

  ‘Do you come sometimes to Sydney?’

  ‘Yes, of course.’

  ‘Then you come please to see my garden. It is my peace of mind. I make it for them, for Katya and Anna. New life, the plants, growing – you know, it helps.’

  ‘I’d love to see it, if you’re sure.’

  ‘Come soon then, please,’ he said. ‘We can plant a tree for you, for you to be different.’

  ‘I’m not really a gardener,’ Diane said.

  Stefan shrugged. ‘I dig the hole, you put the tree, I put back the earth, you water the tree,’ he said. ‘It is easy, we do it together.’

  Sitting on the verandah steps watching George supervising Toby and Simon at the barbecue, Jill wondered whether Adam had it in him to organise a party. He certainly had the goodwill, would even have the intent, but since talking to Barbara and Heather she had arrived at the conclusion that circumstances were draining him of much else.

  ‘Aunty Barb’s wonderful, isn’t she?’ Kirsty said, joining her on the
steps. ‘Imagine going to China at seventy-six, and that teaching course. She and George are awesome.’

  ‘Mmm,’ Jill agreed. ‘They are. They’re a constant reminder that energy is renewable. Most of the time it feels as though it’s finite and I am about to use the last dregs of mine.’

  ‘You should take a holiday,’ Kirsty said. ‘You and Dad, go off somewhere nice on your own. Nick and I could stay with Tobes and Daisy, if you like.’

  ‘That’s very generous of you,’ Jill said, turning to her in surprise. ‘Very generous, I hadn’t thought . . .’

  ‘Well, maybe you should.’

  ‘I’d actually been thinking of something rather different.’

  ‘Like what?’

  ‘Like going off somewhere on my own, somewhere that I don’t have to speak to anyone, where no one expects anything of me, and other people make my bed and put nice food in front of me.’

  ‘Without Dad?’

  Jill nodded.

  ‘Good on you,’ Kirsty said.

  ‘But Adam –’

  ‘He’d be fine.’

  ‘He won’t like it.’

  Kirsty shrugged. ‘So? He goes off on tour, and he went on that musical retreat thing. Why shouldn’t you have a break too?’

  ‘I don’t know how he’d manage, the kids, everything, himself . . .’

  ‘He’s a grown man, Jill,’ Kirsty said, taking a sip of her beer and putting the can down on the step. ‘It would do him good to have to take over for a while.’

  ‘But he’s fragile at the moment . . . I’m afraid he might think it was a prelude to me leaving him, which, of course, it’s not.’

  Kirsty looked at her. ‘He’s no more fragile than you, and you can reassure him about the other stuff.’

  ‘Well, I don’t think –’

  ‘Jill, just do it. I’ll tell you this, from what I can see something needs to happen to shake Dad up a bit.’

  ‘But that’s it, he’s shaken up already.’

  ‘But not enough to change. Tough love. This might be just what it takes.’

  ‘I didn’t think it showed.’

  ‘Jill, hello!’ Kirsty said. ‘Talk about the bleedin’ obvious. I can see it more clearly since I moved out. Either he’s depressed and needs to get some help, or something has to kick-start him out of wherever he’s at.’