by kendra Smith
‘Do you know James had his first swim carnival at school last week?’ she said quietly.
‘You didn’t tell me.’
‘I did, Tom,’ she sighed. ‘I told you when you were at the airport, remember?’
‘Oh yes, yes, God, I was up to my neck with the pitch for Tokyo…’ He shut his eyes and frowned.
‘It’s not just Trent Financial who need you; the boys need their father too.’ Her voice trailed off. ‘I need you, Tom – do you know that? We Sykped Gramps after James won an award. He was so proud, so chuffed. James told Gramps about standing on the podium, getting his bronze medal.’
‘I should have been there.’ Tom’s eyes cast around the room. ‘Listen, we need to get away. Let’s use some of the money I just got awarded from the Tokyo deal,’ he said warming to his theme. ‘Look, we will pay off debts with most of it, but we can finally breathe a bit.’ As he said this he cupped her chin in his hand, held it between his thumb and index finger, smiled at her.
Looking up at him, she could see his greeny-grey eyes widen.
‘That’s what we’ll do – I’ll start looking into a holiday – hey, what about the Great Barrier Reef, Katie? It’s cheaper at this time of year. What do you think?’
She nodded, looked at his freckles, the crinkles at the edge of his eyes, and realising there were a few more, reached out to touch them and smiled.
‘Good girl.’ His voice was soothing. ‘We’ll go all out. Repair our marriage…’
Katie frowned then, opened her mouth, then shut it again. I suppose he’s right, she thought. More than anything, I want this marriage to work, she realised, as he held her tight. What have we got to lose? This is the point it all starts to get better, isn’t it?
26
The plane descended as Katie looked out of the window. There was a tiny airport below, palm trees, the landing strip, flags fluttering in the breeze and an indigo blue, sparkling sea out beyond the runway. They were landing at Mermaid Island; so far it mirrored the brochure perfectly. Inside the plane the view was not so brochure-perfect, with popcorn strewn across the floor. Katie watched as James and Andy flicked popcorn, pinching their fingers and firing it, a la Tiddlywinks, across the aisle at each other.
‘Boys, will you stop it!’ Tom hissed at them, exasperated.
‘Is there a problem?’ The air hostess came up to Katie and smiled at her. Oh no, we are just enjoying the first part of our Holiday of a Lifetime with three very active little boys. Please can I have a double vodka? ‘No, no problem at all,’ said Katie, smiling at the impossibly immaculate stewardess.
‘Amazing, look at the view,’ said Tom.
She spun her head around. Was he talking about the air hostess?
As she looked round, she realised he was craning his neck to look out the window. Stop it, Katie. ‘This is what we all need. A decent break.’ He squeezed her hand with his free one. In the other was his BlackBerry – he had been reading his emails most of the flight, she realised, frowning. Why can’t work leave him alone?
He hastily put the device in his pocket. I am looking forward to this holiday so much, thought Katie, staring at Rory. My final baby, seven months old, up and running on formula. One more bit of the umbilical cord had loosened up. Part of her felt sad; the other, jubilant – overjoyed that she no longer had to be in a bovine daze, getting her tits out in cafés and children’s libraries and trying to look nonchalant, when all she wanted was to hide under the muslin herself.
Arriving at Sandy Bay Resort, the bus swept through the entrance flanked by palm trees and a mass of white bougainvillea. Inside, ceiling fans directed a welcome breeze over the foyer. A water feature tinkled away as the newest load of guests enjoyed the cherry red mocktails served by a smiley girl in a Hawaiian print shirt. Outside, two Olympic-sized swimming pools stretched across the horizon, a thatched-roof swim-up bar between them. Katie realised she was taking this all in with a huge grin on her face. How long had it been since she and Tom had really enjoyed themselves? She couldn’t wait.
Once they unpacked their bags, they headed to the pool. Looking at the programme they decided not to put the kids in the club that day; tomorrow was early enough to start the ‘fun activity programme.’
Katie watched as Tom went off to fetch some towels, his bright blue board shorts hugging the waist of his toned body. She looked down at her one-piece swimsuit and sucked her stomach in. Why did it always fold around her middle so much, she fretted, pulling her sarong hastily across it, but then she remembered her secret plan and felt much better. Leaning back on the lounger, she watched as her boys dived in, splashed each other, shrieked with laughter. Anyone would think they were Australian.
James was enthralled that he could go up to the bar and order a drink, without getting out of the swimming pool. He looked across at Katie, shouted, ‘Way cool!’ (Way cool?)
Beyond the thatched roof of the bar, sailing boats were bobbing on the horizon and snorkellers paddled in the shallow waters of the beach. Katie spotted a mum, her turquoise sarong blowing in the breeze – she reminded Katie of Ann – and a little girl, holding a bucket, collecting shells. She wondered how Ann was. Back at the clinic again this week, injecting herself, forcing her system to take on board unnatural levels of hormones; bullying her body into producing fat follicles, to produce eggs, to fertilise the eggs… An image of how they force-feed foie gras ducks came into Katie’s mind as she watched a fat, middle-aged woman haul herself from the pool.
Going down to the beach, Katie took a dip in the sea, she didn’t venture too far, was a bit nervous of what was beneath. Heading back to the sun loungers, she noticed Tom had taken the boys for an ice cream, could see them standing at the kiosk, hair matted to their foreheads, water dripping down their backs as they stood in the queue. He was pushing Rory in the buggy back and forth. An enormous surge of love jolted through her body at the sight of her husband and children.
A little later she idly picked up Tom’s BlackBerry. She didn’t know the code, but could see the beginning of the message before it was cut off. The sun was in her eyes; she squinted.
Memories of a… x
And yes, she thought, there was definitely an ‘x’. Who was that from? Suddenly, she was being squirted with water from James’s water gun. ‘Oi!’ She went up to him in the pool, jumped in next to him and splashed him. What fun!
Andy and James had really taken to the idea that the whole holiday was pre-paid. They were wearing little pink wristbands that indicated they could have what they wanted, when they wanted. Last night, she had caught James pouring Sprite into Rory’s milk bottle.
‘Boys! You cannot just go and order what you like at the bar!’ Katie laughed shrilly at them at dinner that night. She was trying hard to relax, but honestly! They had just brought their fourth glasses of Sprite to the table. ‘Yes we can, Mummy; remember what you said when we were packing, ‘We can all order what we want – won’t that be fun?’
‘Leave them, Katie, it’s their holiday too.’ Tom picked up his deep-fried calamari, dropped it on his new shirt, and swore.
‘What’s wrong with you?’ Katie said gently, taking his hand, remembering her plan.
‘Nothing,’ he said, wiping his mouth with a napkin. ‘You’re the one who seems a little tense. Work’s been a bit of a nightmare, if you must know. Sorry.’ He forced a smile.
‘Mum!’
‘Yes, James?’
‘What do you call a kitten after it’s three days old?’
‘Don’t know, darling?’
‘Four days old!’ As James creased up laughing, he knocked over his Sprite just as Rory started to howl. He was trying to wriggle out of his high chair. It was the scream of a baby who has had too little sleep, too much sun, and probably some Sprite, thought Katie. She stood up to take Rory out of the room, took a deep breath, and wondered what on earth had got into Tom. By now, Rory was really yelling. Other diners were looking at them. Katie stood up and plonked Rory in his buggy. Despite
being a ‘family’ resort, they seemed to be the only family who had brought an actual baby. Their holiday of a lifetime was starting to resemble their life at home, only with sunburn, and chicken nuggets and carbonated drinks at every meal. She hastily pushed the buggy through the glass doors of the dining room.
She remembered last night: Rory had somehow managed to haul himself up, hold on to the hotel’s flimsy travel cot and tip it over. With him inside it. At 3 a.m. finally, after milk (and pacing down the corridor, up the steps, into the ‘shared kitchen’ and back down the steps, sidestepping the cockroaches and stifling a scream) Katie and Tom had managed to calm him down. But he’d woken Andy by then, who had to come and sleep in their bed.
‘Some relaxing holiday this is!’ Tom had muttered, and turned over in the bed. ‘We have more sex at home – and that’s saying something!’
Back in the hotel room now, Katie sank into the pillows, and grabbed a magazine (How to Put the Spark Back was emblazoned across the cover in hot pink lettering), just as Tom and the boys opened the door. The boys bounced around. Tom was punching the buttons on his BlackBerry, furiously. Honestly, couldn’t work leave him alone for a minute? He hastily turned on the news on the TV.
And today, the Joint Australian Tsunami Warning Centre has been monitoring sea levels to verify if a Tsunami Watch will be issued tomorrow. Residents are being asked to follow the initial safety precautions listed on the Government Website and follow news bulletins.
Oh crikey, thought Katie, who then made a feeble excuse about needing some more towels and headed to the hotel reception. She quickly phoned Ann while she had the chance.
‘How are you doing, Ann?’
‘Oh, Katie, hi,’ replied Ann in a shrill voice. ‘Yeah fine – why are you calling me?’
‘Why shouldn’t I?’
‘Sorry, right, snakes and ladders… One minute you’re up, up… with these hormones, hoping THIS time they make eggs; then crash, down you go with some awful results,’ she sighed down the phone. ‘How’s, um, the – the holiday?’
‘Bit snakes and ladders too!’ Katie confided, telling Ann about the mayonnaise-covered food, the sleepless nights. She didn’t mention the arguments, the plan… Something made her stop. ‘OK, gotta go.’
She spied the bank of guest computers and logged on to her email.
To: [email protected]
From: [email protected]
Dear K
Feeling not only fat, but fat and sick these days. Must be another girl… Have half-heartedly started painting the smaller room, the nursery in yellow, just in case it’s a boy. Somehow seems darker than in London, which I know is ridiculous, but it is. Freezing too. Started to look into schools for Rosie, some open days coming up. Gosh, where to send her? Everyone here has an opinion. The Lady of the Light College is one of the best schools around, but I’m not sure because they don’t do A levels, they do the IB.
Luce.x
Sitting on lime-green cushions in the hotel foyer for her meeting, Katie wondered how, when you had a baby under one, you could even think about A levels. Had the aliens got to Lucy as well?
She focused back on the details for tomorrow with Tina, the hotel’s event co-ordinator. Tried to remember what was meant to happen in twenty-four hours’ time.
‘Mrs Parkes?’ Katie looked up.
‘I said it will be fine, Mrs Parkes,’ Tina was reassuring her. ‘The winds are due to die down tomorrow – I’ve been on the website.’
Katie stared out to sea, past Tina’s sleek mahogany hair. She noticed palm trees swaying in the sunset and spotted a young couple, arms entwined, further down the beach. Could that be Tom and me again? She smiled to herself, enjoying the thought, and mentally went over the schedule for the next day: the boys in Kids’ Club, babysitter booked, hair appointment sorted. Tom’s suit was hanging in the cupboard. Tina took down a few more notes and then reached over for Katie’s hand and touched it.
‘It’s a lovely idea,’ she said, ‘very popular package. We’ve got the photographer standing by too – compliments of the hotel.’ Katie beamed at her as she slipped off her chair and went back to the room. It’s going to be a fabulous surprise.
27
‘Not going.’
‘What?’
‘Not going to the stupid Kids’ Club.’ James was standing, arms folded across his chest, glaring at Katie.
‘James, it’s the Kids’ Club we showed you on the Internet. The one you said you’d go to. The one with the trapeze thing, and sailing, treasure hunts…’ She racked her brain, pulled out her ace card. ‘It’s got Y-box you know.’
‘Mum, you can’t be serious. It’s Xbox,’ said a militant James.
Think. You and Tom have to be dressed and ready in fifty minutes.
‘What about the lovely seashell hunts?’
‘That’s for girls. And Andy doesn’t want to go either, do you, Andy?’ he said poking his little brother in the arm.
‘No. No Kids’ Club. Want to stay, Mummy.’
‘I think they might have the new iPads.’ Tom came out the bathroom and joined the game.
James looked at Tom sideways, suspiciously, not sure if he was going to go for the bait or not.
‘This is ridiculous,’ muttered Katie. ‘We are all cooped up in here because they won’t go to Kids’ Club. They HAVE to go in today.’
‘Katie, it’s not the end of the world,’ said Tom, rubbing his hair with a towel. ‘What’s the urgency?’
There is some urgency when the hotel staff and hotel photographer will be waiting at the beach for us in less than an hour. She would just let Rory’s babysitter take them to the Club later.
She marched over to the balcony doors and opened them. Without warning, she was hit with a huge gust of heat like a hairdryer was on full pelt across her face. She closed the doors again and walked back to Tom. Hauling him into the bathroom, she took a deep breath. This had to be a surprise. She was determined to make a go of her plans, breathe new life into her marriage.
‘Listen, sorry, sweetheart, I’ve booked a babysitter for Rory so that we can have some, you know—’ she winked at him ‘—special time together.’
‘Oh right.’ He looked at her as the penny dropped. He looks about as happy as if I’d said we’re going to wax his chest hairs, thought Katie, as she flounced out of the bathroom.
When Tom came out the bathroom, Katie had laid out her dress, her carefully chosen Elle Macpherson matching underwear, Tom’s suit, tie and buttonhole.
‘Ta-da!’ She clasped her hands together, triumphant.
‘Katie, what’s all this?’ he said, closing the door behind him. ‘Are we going to a funeral?’
‘What? It’s a carefully planned surprise!’
‘I thought…’ he said, scanning the room, taking in the lacy dress, his linen suit, the new silk Pierre Cardin tie.
‘We’re going to renew our wedding vows at the beach!’ She put her arms around his waist and pulled him closer, breathing in the delicious scent of him, feeling goosebumps as she thought about what would happen after, how he’d be blown away by the romance of it all.
‘Oh. Right,’ he muttered into her hair.
Right? She pulled away. ‘Is that all you can say?’
‘No, it’s great, jolly good idea…’ He faltered, starting to change into the suit. Before she could give it any more thought, there was a call on the hotel phone.
‘Mrs Parkes – your babysitter is on her way up, we’re all set, see you down at the beach in ten minutes. And I wanted to check, you did say “Heartbreak Hotel”, right?’
‘No! “Love Me Tender”,’ she whispered, hanging up.
*
The beach was deserted. The white-and-gold umbrellas were folded and tied down on their wooden stands. They were flapping furiously in the breeze like birds trying to loosen their wings; the sand was a bit damp underfoot and large grey clouds were swirling over the horizon. Still, it was amazing here, a tropical oasis. As she and
Tom made their way down the path to the beach, the wind whipped sand onto her face so hard she winced with the pain. She grinned and tried to forget the acid-like feeling on her cheeks.
She could just make out a man with a huge camera down by the seashore, snapping away at them. Tina waved, motioned that they should come down to the sea. Katie’s pale lavender dress was pressed tight against her, the chiffon unforgiving against her curves. Sand was swirling around her ankles as the wind whistled through her hair. Tom’s pearly-white silk tie was almost horizontal across his torso. Elvis started up from the loudspeakers, making Tom jump with fright. Tina came towards them with garlands of frangipanis.
‘Hi, guys!’ she said breezily, and placed the flowered necklaces around their necks. Tom tugged at his. He was never one to get into any New Age thing. It was all she could do to persuade him to come down to the beach in bare feet. She looked at his perfectly cut toenails.
‘Christ, Katie, we’re not teenagers any more.’
‘I thought it would be a romantic touch.’ She mock-pouted, then smiled. Tom didn’t smile back.
‘So. Welcome,’ said Tina, as the photographer snapped away in the background. Katie’s dress was stuck like glue to her thighs in the billowy wind. Can anyone see my pants? She’d chosen a pretty bra with a tiny cornflower blue daisy motif. Cotton. Comfy but sexy – a nod to how much Tom seemed to enjoy stealing a peek at Naomi’s upholstered cleavage. She thought she’d compete in the Cleavage Wars.
‘We are gathered here so that Katie and Tom can build on their eight-year marriage, and remind each other of their vows. Please take each other’s hands.’ Tina looked at them, smiled; her eyes looked moist.
They held hands. Tom’s were clammy. Katie’s $100 hairdo was flapping in the wind. She thought she could see tears in Tom’s eyes and she smiled to herself. Yes, he was as moved by this as she was.