It was a mercifully short car trip, which was just as well: the conversation was strained, to say the least. Hannah seemed fine, but she gradually picked up on the vibe and became more subdued as a result.
As soon as they pulled up in the drive, Sophie got out of the car and pranced into the house ahead of them. Tom threw a sidelong glance at Rachel, before climbing out of his seat and marching straight in after Sophie. Rachel hesitated, maybe she should give them a minute. Then suddenly the door swung open beside her. It was Hannah.
‘Come on, Rachel. What are you waiting for?’
When they walked through the front door, Sophie was halfway up the stairs.
‘. . . but we have a guest,’ Tom was saying.
She turned around to look down at him. ‘Well I didn’t ask her!’
‘Sophie.’
‘Dad, you knew I had this big assignment, and you picked me up later than you said, and now you expect me to entertain someone you invited over?’
Rachel flinched.
‘What I expect is for you to mind your manners, young lady.’
Her eyes flickered to take in Rachel standing just inside the door. ‘Sorry,’ she muttered. ‘Is it all right if I come down when dinner’s ready, so I can at least get some work done?’
‘Fine,’ said Tom. ‘As long as you bring a better attitude with you then.’
She turned and stomped up the stairs and out of sight. Tom looked around at Rachel. ‘Sorry about that.’
She shrugged. ‘She must be anxious about that assignment.’ She looked down at Hannah, placing an arm casually around her shoulders. ‘So looks like it’s up to you and me to make the salads, kid.’
‘I’m an excellent salad maker,’ Hannah said proudly. ‘Aren’t I, Dad?’
‘Yes you are,’ he said, ruffling her hair as he walked past. ‘I’ll just get the things out of the car.’
Rachel caught up with all of Hannah’s news while they chopped the vegetables for the salad. Mostly it was gossip from school, girlie stuff. But she also talked about teachers she liked, subjects she enjoyed. Tom hovered in the background, topping up Rachel’s drink, coming in and out from the backyard as he prepared the barbecue.
It was all very relaxed and normal, but Rachel could not shake the feeling that she was somehow trespassing on Annie’s domain, using her things, preparing dinner with her daughter. It was easier to keep Annie out of the equation when it was only her and Tom, at her own place, but it was impossible here. Especially with Hannah’s constant, rather unsubtle reminders: ‘No, Mummy uses this cutting board for vegetables . . . that knife for tomatoes . . . No, you don’t do it like that, Mummy always said you have to tear the lettuce leaves . . . This was Mummy’s favourite salad bowl, her and Dad got it on their honeymoon . . .’
‘Are we going to eat outside?’ said Tom, popping his head around the back door, holding a pair of tongs. ‘It’s pretty nice out here.’
Tom had even gone back to looking like Annie’s husband again.
When Sophie came downstairs to join them she complained she’d be eaten alive by mosquitoes, so Tom lit every citronella candle and mozzie coil he could find, and finally they were seated around the outdoor table eating their meal.
‘How’s the assignment going, Soph?’ he asked.
She shrugged, picking at the vegetable kebabs Tom had cooked for her specially on a separate hotplate.
‘What’s it about?’ Rachel tried next.
‘King Lear.’
Tom and Rachel exchanged a smile. ‘As flies to wanton boys, are we to the gods; They kill us for their sport,’ they recited in unison.
‘What was that?’ Hannah pulled a face at them.
‘Rachel and I both studied King Lear for our HSC, we used to play duelling quotations.’
‘Did you go to school together?’ she asked.
‘No, we met at uni straight after we’d finished school,’ Tom explained. ‘I knew Rachel before I knew your mum.’
Hannah shrugged. ‘I never knew that.’
‘I’m sure I’ve told you.’
‘Musta forgot.’
‘So, ask us anything, Soph,’ he said, turning to her. ‘You have two old hands here at your disposal.’
‘It’s different now.’
‘Shakespeare’s different?’
She sighed. ‘We don’t study it the way they did in your day.’
Ouch, there was that phrase again.
‘What do you mean?’ asked Tom.
‘We have to imagine we’ve just seen a production of King Lear where the genders have been reversed, and then write a review about it for a journal.’
Tom was listening, obviously confounded. ‘So you have to imagine King Lear is Queen Lear, and the daughters are her sons?’
She nodded. ‘And the other characters as well. You have to discuss one character where the gender reversal works, and one where it doesn’t.’
‘What’s the point of that?’
‘It has to do with exploring gender constructs in literature and applying a postmodernist framework, or something like that.’
‘Again, what on earth is the point?’
‘Don’t ask me,’ said Sophie. ‘To pass the exams, I guess.’
Tom was shaking his head. ‘Shakespeare would be spinning in his grave. King Lear as a woman . . .’
‘Maybe it’s not so weird,’ said Rachel. ‘After all, all the female parts were played by men in Shakespeare’s time.’
‘Why?’ Hannah asked.
‘Because women weren’t allowed to act on stage.’
‘That’s so dumb,’ she declared. ‘But I guess it was like, a thousand years ago, and everything was dumb back then.’
‘Do you know,’ said Tom, ‘Rachel’s been to places where women are still not allowed to walk the street unless they’re covered from head to foot, and in the company of a man.’
Hannah screwed up her face. ‘Why would you go somewhere like that? It doesn’t sound like much fun for a girl.’
Rachel smiled. ‘Don’t worry, I never stayed in those places long.’
‘Where else have you been?’
‘All over,’ she said. ‘Europe, Africa, South America –’
‘Did you go to Bolivia?’ Sophie broke in, suddenly interested.
‘Bolivia?’ Rachel frowned, shaking her head. ‘No, I didn’t get there. I travelled through Brazil and Argentina and Chile, but I think Bolivia was considered pretty dangerous at the time.’
‘Why the interest, Soph?’ Tom asked.
‘I’m thinking about majoring in international studies, as part of a law degree, and maybe doing an exchange year in South America.’
‘You haven’t mentioned that before,’ he said.
‘Well, we had this former student come to the school,’ she explained. ‘You know, supposed to motivate us for the HSC, but it was so totally cool what she’s doing. She just got back from her exchange year in Bolivia, and now she’s going to specialise in human rights.’ Sophie paused. ‘I’ve always thought I’d probably do law, but I mean, no offence, Dad, corporate law is so not what I want to do.’
‘No offence taken, it’s not really what I want to do either.’
‘Your dad used to want to save the world back when we were at uni,’ said Rachel.
‘Like Superman,’ Hannah giggled.
‘Is that true?’ Sophie asked him.
‘That, or become world surfing champion,’ he said. ‘But I had more chance of saving the world.’
That raised a smile from Sophie. ‘So why did you go into corporate law?’
He seemed to be considering how to answer that. ‘Well, I thought I’d try it for a while, get some money behind me . . . Your priorities have to change when you have a family to support, Soph.’
She was looking at him curiously.
‘You should follow your dreams while you can, Sophie,’ he went on. ‘When you’re young you’ve got the whole world at your feet. Anything’s possible.’
&n
bsp; The conversation flowed a little more easily after that, though Sophie remained reserved. When they all appeared to have finished eating, Tom checked that no one wanted any more food and started to clear the table.
Rachel got to her feet. ‘I’ll help.’
‘No, Rachel, sit. You’re a guest.’
‘Don’t be silly,’ she dismissed, gathering up the plates.
‘Can I be excused, Dad?’ said Sophie.
‘No you may not,’ he said. ‘You got out of helping prepare dinner, the least you can do is help clean up.’
She pulled a face, but she didn’t argue. Hannah helped as well, and they transferred everything back into the kitchen in a couple of trips.
‘Now can I go upstairs?’ Sophie asked.
‘After the kitchen’s done,’ Tom said calmly.
‘I have homework!’ she shrilled.
‘And you also have chores.’
She made a growling sound and turned around to the sink. Rachel had to bite her lip to stop herself from telling Tom just to let her go, she would clean up, it was all her fault anyway. Rachel had thought it was going to be easier than this, that they might even have fun. But her very presence here was creating tension, and there was only one way to put an end to it.
‘Um, well, dinner was great, thanks,’ she began tentatively. ‘But I think I might get going.’
Tom turned to face her. ‘Oh . . . do you have to?’
‘Yeah, I do, Tom,’ she said meaningfully. ‘Gotta get the bus . . . you know.’
‘You’re not getting the bus,’ he said, patting his pockets. ‘Let me just grab my keys and I’ll give you a lift.’
‘Tom, no, I’ll be fine,’ she insisted. ‘The bus stop is up the road.’
But he was shaking his head. ‘It’s dark and you’ll have to wait for ages at this time of night on a weekend, Rach. It’ll take me five minutes to drive you home.’
She hesitated. ‘I don’t want to put you out . . .’
‘We could call her a cab,’ Sophie suggested over her shoulder.
‘Or I could be a polite host and drive our guest home,’ Tom said sternly.
‘Or, better still,’ she turned around from the sink, ‘you could be an awesome dad, and take this chance to give me a driving lesson, and we’ll both take Rachel home. You know, kill two birds, and all that.’
‘No way, Sophie.’
‘Dad, come on. I have to get so many hours up for my logbook, I should be driving, like, every chance I can get.’
‘Sophie, two minutes ago you were complaining about having to do chores instead of homework, and now you want to go out for a drive? I said I’d take you for a lesson tomorrow, and I will.’
‘Dad –’
‘Sophie, that’s enough,’ he said. ‘I’m not putting Rachel through that, or leaving Hannah alone this late while we go for a driving lesson.’
She pulled a face. ‘You said it’d only take five minutes.’
‘Which isn’t long enough to record in the logbook,’ he returned. ‘Tomorrow I’ll take you for a whole hour.’
‘But Dad –’
‘Drop it, Soph.’
As they backed out of the driveway and turned up the street, the reality of the situation began to sink in for Rachel. Life with Tom would mean taking on one soon-to-be young adult, about to embark on her HSC, with God knows how many issues yet to surface; and one soon-to-be teenager, with all of that ahead of her. Hannah was delightful, but clearly she needed a lot of attention. The prospect felt a little overwhelming.
Tom steered around the corner. ‘That went okay,’ he said hopefully.
‘You think?’
He glanced at her. ‘You don’t?’
She shrugged.
‘On a scale of one to ten?’ he persisted.
‘You don’t want to hear the figures.’
‘Rach, come on, it wasn’t that bad,’ he said. ‘You and Hannah were getting on great, and Soph warmed up eventually.’
She could hear a tinge of hurt in his voice. How could she tell him that she found it hard to listen to Hannah’s running commentary about her mother? It wasn’t as though there was anything wrong with that, it was entirely natural for her to talk about her mother. Rachel just wanted Tom to understand how it felt for her. And as for Sophie, she was lukewarm at best, for about five minutes. It occurred to Rachel that she couldn’t talk to anyone about Tom, and now she couldn’t talk to Tom about any of this. She suddenly felt very alone.
‘Hannah’s a sweetheart, Tom,’ Rachel said finally, in an effort to mollify him. ‘But I was thinking, maybe you should just let it go if Sophie acts up like that again when I’m around.’
‘But aren’t we trying to behave like normal?’ he frowned.
‘Yeah . . .’
‘Well, I wouldn’t let her get away with that kind of behaviour normally, Rach. She’s more likely to suspect something if I pussyfoot around her.’
‘I guess,’ Rachel nodded, thinking about it. ‘But maybe she already suspects, maybe that’s why she was acting that way. I’ve never seen her carry on like that.’
‘You haven’t been around her enough lately, don’t take it to heart,’ said Tom. ‘She runs hot and cold, she can be an absolute angel one minute, and then she turns into a she-devil.’
Rachel didn’t believe for a second that Sophie’s behaviour this evening was merely due to hormones. But those female hormones brought with them a fair dollop of intuition. Maybe women did overthink things, as Tom had suggested, but at least they actually gave some thought to their feelings, their misgivings, their fears. And Sophie had every reason to be fearful of what Rachel’s presence in the house that night signified. She was not wilful or bratty, she was a sixteen-year-old girl whose emotional antennae had been sharpened since the death of her mother. She knew that going to her school formal on her mother’s birthday was fraught; she knew that an old friend of her father’s coming over for a casual dinner was probably anything but.
‘How did she react when you told her I was coming over?’ Rachel asked Tom.
He took a moment to answer. ‘Oh, she was fine about that. She was worried about her assignment, that’s all.’
He had definitely hesitated then. So now he was lying to her, or fudging the truth anyway. Just as she couldn’t tell him what upset her tonight, he was not about to tell her what the girls’ reaction had been to her coming. They were both only trying to save each other’s feelings, but this was not a good development. And Rachel didn’t know what to do about it.
They were silent the rest of the way to her place. Tom was probably as wary as she was to risk saying anything else. When he pulled up outside, he cut the engine and turned to her, taking her hands in his.
‘It’s going to be okay, Rach,’ he said. ‘We made it past the first step. You know that Chinese saying – a journey of a thousand miles begins with a single step.’
‘Goodie, only a thousand miles to go!’
He gave her that slightly hurt look again, so she quickly leaned over to kiss him. And as he responded, and Rachel lost herself in the moment, her doubts drifted away from the forefront of her mind till she was barely even aware of them. Before long they were steaming up the windows.
‘I could come up,’ he murmured, his lips barely leaving hers, ‘if we were quick.’
Rachel pulled back abruptly. ‘Are you out of your mind, Tom? Sophie will have the stopwatch on you. Down boy. Home!’
‘Okay,’ he agreed reluctantly. ‘Maybe I can find some time tomorrow to pop over?’
‘Tom,’ said Rachel, ‘you have to take Sophie for that driving lesson, and you need to spend time with Hannah. You and I had last night and most of today, what’s left of the weekend is for the girls.’
He sighed. ‘You’re right, I know.’ He held her face in his hands. ‘I can’t wait till this is all out in the open and we can be together all the time.’
But as she strolled up the driveway to the entrance, Rachel knew it wasn’t that sim
ple. She was never going to be able to stay at that house. It was hard enough using Annie’s salad bowl, let alone sleeping in her bedroom. In her bed. It didn’t seem as though Tom had even thought about any of that. But on the other hand, it was probably very important for the girls to stay in the house, to maintain the memories of their mother. Of course it was. So where did that leave Rachel?
They were on a very long road, of a thousand miles at least; but what was missing from that image was all the debris strewn about that could trip you up, or even block your way altogether, making it impossible to get any further.
Rachel suddenly yearned for their safe little bubble. Maybe it was the only place where they could be a couple, because Rachel was beginning to doubt how they were going to travel in the real world.
The following week
‘So, how’s Matthew?’
‘Who?’ Rachel asked. She was distracted. Catherine was calling from her car on her way home from work, so she had her on speaker phone. Rachel hated when she did that. Her voice echoed back at her the whole time, and she felt self-conscious about being broadcast into Catherine’s car, like a drive-time radio presenter.
‘I was asking after your new boyfriend, Matthew,’ Catherine reiterated. ‘He hasn’t already ditched you, has he?’
‘No, just no one calls him Matthew.’
‘Well, I certainly will be.’
Of course she would. Catherine was a complete pedant about calling people by their full name, like it was somehow superior. She used to insist on calling Tom Thomas, until he had to point out to her that his name wasn’t Thomas at all, he had actually been christened Tom.
‘Is there something specific you were calling about, Catherine?’
‘In fact there is. I have had a fabulous idea,’ she said. ‘You know how we should be making an effort to include Tom, keeping him busy . . .’
Rachel was doing her bit.
‘. . . So I was thinking that we should have a night out, book a decent restaurant – you can leave that to me – and you can bring your Matthew as well so we can all meet him.’
Rachel needed a minute to compute that. ‘I didn’t catch all that, what did you say?’
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