She gave him a crooked smile. ‘OK. I’m just going to have a quick nightcap. I’ll come to bed soon.’
Tom watched as she got the vodka out of the cupboard and splashed some into a glass. Then she took her phone from her bag, its glow illuminating her face as she unlocked the screen with her thumb.
‘Phone went flat, huh?’ Tom snapped.
She looked up at him. Tom expected her to be startled at being caught out in her lie, but she just looked confused. He stared hard at her, trying to conjure something of what he’d always felt for her. There was fear, worry, resentment, but the love that had once been everything to him—he couldn’t find it, and that scared him more than anything.
Ali
When everyone had filed out of the boardroom after the Monday morning diary meeting, Kamala pulled Ali aside. ‘Could you come into my office for a sec?’
Ali was cycling through her day’s appointments on her iPad as she walked, her mind already on her miles-long to-do list. She paused, irritated by the interruption. ‘Uh, sure, if it’s quick. I’ve got a meeting at ten.’
‘This won’t take long.’
Ali followed Kamala into her office, then stopped abruptly at the sight of Linh and Eddie leaning against Kamala’s desk, looking uncomfortable. She glanced from face to face and smiled uncertainly. ‘What’s going on?’
Linh cleared her throat. ‘We thought we should talk about Friday night.’
‘What about it? It was fun, wasn’t it?’ Ali was beginning to feel uneasy. There was something she’d forgotten, and by the looks on their faces, it obviously wasn’t good.
‘What you said.’ Eddie shuffled his feet. ‘About Alex.’
A nervous laugh escaped Ali. Beyond the first few drinks, Friday night was a giant black spot. She had no idea what she’d said—all she knew was that Tom was still barely speaking to her after she’d got home so late, and she’d coped with the disappointment with more drinking, which had only made things worse between them. ‘Sorry guys, you might have to refresh my memory. It was a big night.’
Linh snorted. ‘Big for one of us, at least.’
‘Linh.’ Kamala flashed her an annoyed look before turning back to Ali. ‘You were trying to encourage us to overthrow Alex and install me as chief of staff.’
Shock flooded through Ali, and her hand moved up to her mouth. ‘I didn’t… you didn’t really think—’
‘I know you said you were joking,’ Kamala interrupted. ‘But I don’t think you were.’
‘The party already has a reputation for backroom deals,’ Eddie said. ‘We can’t afford the publicity this kind of thing would kick up, especially at a time like this.’
‘This is not the way this office operates, Ali,’ Kamala said. ‘It’s not the way Geoff operates. He trusts Alex. You don’t really think he would’ve agreed to something like this, do you?’
‘I… no, I don’t… I didn’t mean what I said,’ Ali stammered. ‘I’m sorry I put you guys in that position… it’d been a stressful week and I was—’
‘Just blowing off steam.’ Linh’s voice was sarcastic. ‘Yeah, that’s what you said on Friday night. You’ve been doing a lot of that lately, though, haven’t you?’
Ali tried to hold Linh’s gaze, but her fingers had begun to prickle with pins and needles, and she clenched the iPad in both hands to stop them trembling.
‘You’ve just lost a baby,’ Linh went on. ‘But you’re all about partying and playing politics. What’s wrong with you?’
Panic began to expand inside Ali’s chest. She clutched the iPad so hard she thought it might shatter between her hands.
‘That’s enough, Linh!’ Kamala snapped. ‘She didn’t mean it, Ali.’
‘Yes she did.’ Ali tried to control her breathing. If she didn’t get out of this office soon, she was going to faint, or throw up, or disappear so far inside herself that she’d never come out again.
‘No, I am sorry,’ Linh said. ‘That was a shithouse thing to say.’
‘We just need to know we can trust you,’ Eddie said. ‘You’ve always been such a professional, but the way you were acting on Friday night, you sounded like a—’
‘Liability,’ Ali supplied.
‘Like you need a break,’ Kamala said gently. ‘I know you haven’t taken any leave for two years. Take a month off. Look after yourself. Come back after Christmas refreshed and ready to help us win this election.’
‘No!’ Ali’s breath was coming in gasps now. She backed towards the door. ‘I’m fine… I just need to… I can handle this.’
She turned and fled.
* * *
Meena’s expression didn’t change when Ali told her about her mistake. She waited until Ali had finished before clasping her hands in her lap and giving her a gentle smile.
‘So it was a mini intervention,’ she said. ‘How did that make you feel?’
What’s wrong with you?
‘Humiliated,’ Ali said. ‘I’m marked now. I fuck up again, I’m gone.’
‘What are you going to do about it?’
‘I’m going to work harder than ever, prove I don’t need their pity or their judgement.’
‘And the drinking?’
Ali hesitated. At first she’d promised herself she would take a break from the grog, at least until she’d earned her colleagues’ trust again. But every night she’d come home and the pull would be there—all it would take was one awkward exchange with Tom and she’d find herself pouring a drink. ‘Well, I won’t be going out for work drinks again anytime soon.’
‘Do you think it’s affecting your work?’
‘I have a few drinks in the evening, that’s all. It’s under control.’
Ali didn’t mention that she hadn’t bothered to replace the wine Tom had removed from the house and had been drinking vodka instead. She didn’t mention that the few drinks more often than not turned into half a bottle, that most nights she went to bed after midnight, the ceiling rocking back and forth above her. She didn’t mention that she’d detoured via the pub on the way here for a pint to calm her nerves.
‘How’s Tom?’ Meena didn’t have her pen today. Instead she held the notepad in both hands. Ali could see that half the pages of the pad were already used. What would Meena do if Ali snatched it out of her hands, riffled through those pages, read the secrets and reflections that the psychologist must record after the sessions?
She sat back in her chair instead. ‘We’re in no-man’s-land. We’ve been together for twelve years but we’ve rarely done more than bicker until now. It’s not like we haven’t both apologised, over and over, but we can’t seem to get back to the way it used to be.’
‘Would you like to bring Tom along to one of our sessions? Maybe it would help to get you talking again.’ Meena’s eyes dropped to Ali’s hands and Ali crossed her arms to hide the shaking.
‘Are you married?’ she asked in an attempt to divert the conversation.
Meena gave a slight nod. ‘Yes, I am.’
‘I bet he gets shitty when you psychoanalyse him.’
Amusement crinkled Meena’s eyes. ‘Believe it or not, I’m a real person with real problems outside this room.’
‘But do you ever just yell at him? Or do you have this perfect fucking relationship that’s immune to the normal shit the rest of us go through?’
‘Alison.’ The hint of a smile remained on Meena’s face, but there was steel beneath her expression. ‘You’re not paying me to talk about my marriage. I’m happy to recommend a relationship counsellor if you’d like some outside help in addressing your issues with Tom.’
Ali retreated. ‘No. This is something we need to work out on our own.’
‘Let me know if you change your mind,’ Meena said. ‘There’s no shame in admitting you can’t fix this problem on your own.’
Ali nodded, biting her lip at the sudden prick of tears behind her eyes as she tried to squash down the fear that maybe it was already too late for her and Tom.
‘The last time you were here you told me that Tom wanted to try for another baby,’ Meena continued. ‘Do you want that too?’
‘No,’ Ali said immediately.
‘Is there any reason why not?’
barren defective useless
‘I had trouble conceiving Eliz—’ She stopped. ‘I had a couple of miscarriages and then we had to have fertility treatment. I’m forty years old. I’m done.’
‘How does Tom feel about that?’
‘He’s devastated. He was the one who wanted to have a baby in the first place. I never wanted children, but I let him talk me into it and look what happened.’
‘Why didn’t you want children?’
Ali snorted. ‘I suppose you’re expecting me to tell you that it was because of my relationship with my mother. And I suppose that’s partly it. But I was also what everyone else in the world calls selfish. I was happy with my life, with Tom and my career. I didn’t need anything else. I don’t understand what’s so selfish about that.’ Her voice grew higher; her composure was beginning to slip again. ‘But when I fell pregnant with her, I wanted her very much.’
Meena folded her hands on top of the notepad. ‘Can you tell me about the day you lost your baby?’
Ali recoiled. ‘No. I can’t. I’m sorry.’
Meena’s gaze was steady. ‘You don’t have to apologise to me, Alison. But you told me you wanted to stop the flashbacks, and I’m not sure that’s going to happen until you stop blocking it out.’
Ali uncrossed her arms and twisted her hands in her lap.
‘You’re in a safe place, Alison,’ Meena said.
What’s wrong with you? ‘I can’t do it,’ Ali said. ‘Not yet.’
Meena nodded. ‘OK. How about you tell me more about the episodes you had as a child?’
‘I told you last time, I can’t really remember.’
just a bad dream
‘You said your father used to rub your back. Did they always happen at home?’
Ali stared into her lap. ‘I think so.’
just a bad dream
‘Did they feel the same as what you’ve been experiencing lately? Were they triggered by an event, or by negative memories? Did you have any fears?’
An image flashed into Ali’s head: Hazel’s face, white against a white pillow. Then it was gone again. Her breathing quickened. ‘I don’t know.’
baddream baddream baddream
Ali put her hands over her ears.
‘What’s happening, Alison? Are you remembering something?’
Ali dropped her hands and squeezed her eyes shut tight. ‘I had a memory of my mother. I think she was lying in a hospital bed. But she’s never been to hospital.’
‘Do you know what was wrong with her?’
Ali shook her head. ‘No. I saw her face, then that was it. I don’t know where it came from.’
‘Was she ever in an accident? Could you call her and ask her about it?’
baddreambaddreambaddreamBADDREAMBADDREAM
‘Stop!’ The word burst out of Ali before she could prevent it.
Meena didn’t speak.
‘Sorry, I didn’t mean you. I’ve got this…’ Ali stopped. The last thing she needed was to tell Meena she was hearing voices in her head. ‘I can’t talk to Hazel.’
After a moment, Meena nodded. ‘OK. But before our next session, I’d like you to do all you can to recall the episodes you had as a child, and what set them off. I think they might be connected in some way to the trauma of losing your baby. If we can find the key, maybe we can unlock the reason they’re happening and make them stop.’
Ali stood up. She couldn’t meet Meena’s eyes, because she didn’t want to tell her that there wasn’t going to be a next session. Rather than helping put her back together, the sessions just seemed to be unravelling her even further.
Tom
Tom was overloaded with work, but it was only five o’clock when he shut down his computer for the day. He had to get home to Ali.
Friday night was never good, when the endless weekend stretched out without work to distract her. She’d been drinking more than ever since his stupid decision to take the wine out of the house. Their conversation skirted around what to have for dinner (she barely ate anyway), whether she wanted a lift to work in the morning (she usually caught the bus), where Tom’s favourite tie was (under the bed). But tonight he wasn’t going to let it go. He was going to force her to interact with him before the chasm between them grew so wide he could never clear it. Work would have to wait. Or he’d do it at home over the weekend.
He was slipping on his suit jacket when Cliff perambulated into his office, a tumbler of whisky in his hand. One side of his white shirt had come untucked from his trousers.
‘Tom, my man!’ he boomed. ‘Leaving already?’
Tom grinned. ‘Yeah, taking an early minute today.’
Cliff sat down at the small round table by the door. ‘See, the thing is, Tom, you’ve been taking a lot of early minutes lately.’
Tom flushed with guilt. ‘I know, I’m sorry. I’m trying to support Ali. She’s having a tough time.’
Cliff grimaced. ‘Look, Tom, of course we’re all very sorry for your loss. But it’s been five months. I need you back on your game.’
Tom gripped the back of his chair with both hands as he fought back the tears that always seemed to be there behind his eyes, no matter how often he allowed himself to cry. ‘And I need to be there for my wife.’
‘This is not a nine-to-five job, Tom. You’re a partner in this firm and I expect you to pull your weight. You’ve gotta man up, mate.’
Tom clenched his teeth. He hated it when other men used the word mate as a kind of weapon. Man up. Don’t show any emotions, in other words. He wanted to lash out at his boss, but the rational side of him knew it wouldn’t do him any favours. How could he explain the permanent ache that he carried around in his heart? The twin ache of grieving for Elizabeth and fearing for Ali that he could no longer separate, that had become one swirling, tumultuous mass that tied up his guts every day?
Cliff heaved himself to his feet, puffing with the effort. ‘I don’t mean to be harsh, buddy, but if you don’t lift your game soon, I can’t guarantee your position in the firm.’ He shuffled out of the office without waiting for a response.
Tom didn’t move. It had never occurred to him that being there for Ali might put his job at risk. Not just his job—his whole career. It wasn’t right; of course it wasn’t. But Tom had worked hard to get to this position. He was only forty-two years old and he was a partner in one of Adelaide’s most prestigious law firms. Was he really willing to throw all that away?
Ali
Ali was on her third vodka and orange when Tom strode into the living room. His face was red with an anger she’d never seen in him before. His eyes took in the bottle of vodka beside her almost-empty glass.
‘You may as well start mainlining that stuff,’ he spat. ‘It’d take you less time.’
Ali froze at the contempt in his eyes. Faced with fight or flight, she chose the only option that’d ever felt open to her since her dad had died. ‘Bugger off, Tom. Stop acting like my fucking mother.’
He laughed bitterly. ‘How about you stop acting like your fucking mother?’
Ali drained the contents of her glass in one gulp and poured another, not trusting herself to speak.
‘I’ve always believed you were stronger than Hazel,’ Tom said. ‘I’ve kept believing it, even through all this. But I don’t know anymore. You can’t keep on like this forever.’
‘What time limit do you put on getting over losing a child? How long did it take you?’
‘Fuck you, Ali.’ He launched the words at her like a weapon. ‘I still cry for her every day, did you know that? No, of course you don’t, because you’re too busy drowning yourself night after night to care how I feel.’
Ali unscrewed the vodka lid and poured a glug into her glass with a shaking hand. This time sh
e didn’t bother with the orange juice, just threw it back. The fiery liquid burned down her throat, cauterising her pain. She poured again, but then Tom was there, tearing the glass from her fingers, hurling it into the sink. Ali flinched as the glass shattered. Next, he snatched up the bottle of vodka and Ali leapt to her feet as the clear liquid gurgled down the drain.
‘I’m not going to let you do this anymore!’ he shouted at her. ‘You’re going to kill yourself.’
‘It’s not your choice!’ The alcohol coursed through her body. Hot. Angry.
He took her by the shoulders, forcing her to look at him. His eyes blazed. ‘Cliff threatened to sack me tonight, because I’ve spent the last five months trying to stop you from destroying yourself. No one seems to care how I’m coping with all this. I lost a daughter too, you know, and now I might lose my job.’
Sympathy cut through Ali’s rage. But her words, when they came out, sounded callous even to her ears. ‘Cliff is a cunt. I don’t know why you’d want to work for him anyway.’
Tom narrowed his eyes at her. His fingers still clenched her shoulders. ‘Why are you so cold? Don’t you feel anything?’
What’s wrong with you?
‘Don’t judge me, Tom,’ she said. ‘Not you too.’
‘I never have.’ His eyes drilled into her. ‘But maybe I should. I know you’ve got your own way of coping with things, but you’ve alienated everyone. Me. Your friends. Hazel.’
She scoffed. ‘Hazel’s the last person I’d go to for comfort.’
Tom’s eyes were bright. Sadness, anger, fear; Ali couldn’t tell which. ‘She’s your mother, Ali. I know you’re angry with her, but has it ever occurred to you that she’s never pulled herself together because you’ve cut her out of your life? You lost a father, but she lost a husband.’
BADDREAMBADDREAMBADDREAM
Ali’s body prickled hot and cold. ‘Don’t you dare bring my father into this.’
‘No, I’m going to,’ he said. ‘Haven’t you punished her enough? You worship a dead man who hasn’t been around for more than half your life, while treating your own mother like she’s nothing.’
Misconception Page 16