The Chance of a Lifetime

by kendra Smith

  Andy ran up to Katie and clung to her like a koala; poor boy, she thought and lifted him up, kissed the top of his head. He was shaking like a leaf. Wet liquid trickled down her hip.

  ‘Yeah, they look like snakes all right, first thirty centimetres, but they won’t harm you.’ Carol smiled, walking ahead a bit after placing the lizard back in the parched bush.

  ‘Thanks so much, Carol.’ Katie smiled gratefully.

  ‘No worries. You all OK now?’ She stared at Katie and frowned.

  ‘Yes, yes, could just do with getting out of here and this heat and having a good night’s sleep. I’d better go back to the car. Rory’s asleep there and the NRMA bloke’s on his way. Thanks again, Carol.’

  Pulling the rim of her hat down to shield her eyes from the sun, she glanced towards the road and noticed a white van coming round the corner with ‘Roadside Assistance’ emblazoned across the side. A Very Nice Man in very short shorts pointed out to the now slightly hysterical mother of three who tried to hug him and kept swatting at flies, that she might have left her lights on and the battery was flat.

  God, where is Tom when I need him most?

  49

  Three weeks later Katie was inside a taxi, pulling up outside a 1960s building with sludgy grey concrete walls and huge panes of tinted brown glass. It looked absolutely terrible, like a huge planner’s disaster, which the authorities were trying to hide amongst other buildings.

  ‘Is this it?’ muttered Katie to Tom, who was sitting next to her in the taxi.

  ‘Well, yes, this is the address.’ He looked up. ‘There! It says “Australian Government” on the building.’

  There were six of them in the taxi: Tom, Katie, Gramps, James, Andy and Rory. They were in Parramatta, a sprawling western suburb of Sydney where every shop on the freeway was a tacky car showroom. It was too far from the beach to be any use in the summer, not quite into the mountains to be any use on crisp winter days. Parramatta, the Hounslow of Sydney, thought Katie as she stepped out the cab onto a cigarette butt and looked around. Imagine swearing my allegiance to this country here.

  Somehow, when Tom had booked and told her about their Citizenship Ceremony, (Look, Katie, we’d be foolish not to go, foolish to miss this opportunity; we can have two passports) she’d imagined a service at the beach, maybe a sailing club. ‘Sorry, ma’am, the popular suburbs are all booked until next year,’ the lady had said from the Citizenship office when Katie had tried to change it. ‘Take this slot or there won’t be one till early next year.’

  Tom was clutching a folder of documents and they were all huddled with the rest of the day’s delegates in the foyer. A Chinese lady with sleek black hair, tied in a pretty red bow at the back, greeted them. ‘Please come this way.’ She smiled. ‘Parkes? OK you are at 1.20 p.m.’ She gestured towards a lift. Everyone squeezed in to the cramped lift, which stank of stale air. Tom was squeezed in very close to Katie; their arms were touching. She felt a ridiculous tingle down her arm and felt about ten years old, hoping he’d hold her hand, or squeeze her shoulder. He didn’t; he just stared ahead solemnly.

  Their official guide ushered them off at the first floor and led them to a huge room with seating carefully arranged around a central lectern. They took their seats towards the back, Gramps coughing noisily and rummaging around all the papers that had been left on the chairs.

  Looking around Katie studied her other countrymen. A timid-looking young couple; a family who looked like they had brought every generation, dressed in beautiful saris. Several women with buggies and babies in their arms. A large man in a red checked shirt, with greying hair who kept checking his watch. She pulled Rory onto her lap and gave him a chewy bar to nibble on. There was a flag waving above their heads, the Australian flag.

  ‘Look, Daddy! Look at the stars!’

  ‘They’re the states of Australia,’ explained Gramps. ‘See the large star, James? That star represents the federation of all the Aussie states and territories – there are seven points on it, see that, lad?’ James nodded and Andy stared up at it in awe.

  ‘And see the Union Jack? Well that’s because Britain is Australia’s parent nation.’

  ‘Kind of like there would be a picture of you if Dad had a flag of him?’

  Gamps smiled and nodded. Katie stole a sideways at Gramps. How did he know all that?

  ‘Carol told me,’ he said, as if reading her mind. ‘There she is over there!’ He was grinning from ear to ear.

  ‘What?’ Katie looked around and saw Carol as she’d never seen her before, in a neat navy suit, peach silk blouse, hair carefully blow-dried and wearing a small set of pearl earrings.

  ‘What’s she doing here, Gramps?’

  ‘She’s one of the officials who can perform the ceremonies.’ He smiled.

  ‘Who’s Carol?’ asked a bewildered Tom.

  ‘That’s Gramps’s girlfriend!’ yelled Andy, who then excitedly stood on his chair and waved at her. ‘She gives us lollies!’

  Carol looked up from the lectern and raised her hand timidly. Katie noticed that she was blushing and looked a bit flustered. She smiled at them all, then looked down again.

  ‘You never told me…’ Tom whispered to Katie.

  ‘Because I didn’t really know!’ she said softly and looked up at him. ‘Your dad has seen her a few times, but—’ Katie shrugged ‘—they’re just friends.’

  Katie thought Carol looked remarkably well considering they had been out late last night. ‘Just the movies!’ Gramps had quipped, as he left. ‘Don’t wait up.’ And yet she had; waited up till 11 p.m. when he finally got in.

  ‘Popped along to the RSL afterwards, what a great place!’ he’d chuckled.

  She’d put her book down on her lap and rolled her eyes at him. ‘RSL again, Gramps?’

  ‘Smashing clubs, those Retired Servicemen wotsits, don’t get the atmosphere like that in Blighty, Katie. Smashing,’ he’d said, then wobbled slightly as he went off to bed.

  ‘Can you all please raise your right hand and sing the national anthem.’ Carol was overseeing the ceremony. Everyone stood up. Suddenly Katie heard it in her right ear and grimaced.

  ‘God save our gracious Queen,

  Long live our noble Queen…’

  ‘Gramps! Be quiet, we have to sing the Australian national anthem!’ she whispered, nudging him with her elbow. He looked a bit taken aback. The room fell silent. Carol stared at them.

  ‘Oh Crikey, sorry everyone, do start again,’ he said, waving his song sheet. Katie stifled a giggle.

  Another Citizenship Official came over to them. ‘If you need to know the words, they are printed on the card in your hand.’ She looked pointedly at Gramps.

  ‘Sorry, chaps!’ piped up Gramps and Katie could see Tom from the corner of her eye yanking his tie up, eyes darting around the room, trying not to smile, despite himself.

  The music started up again and the room filled with ‘Advance Australia Fair’; Katie could feel the tears well up. Whoops, I must not get so emotional every time there’s a hymn or national anthem, she scolded herself. And yet it wasn’t that, she realised. She looked over at Tom next to her. Wanted to hold his hand. It was such an important moment and she was overwhelmed with confusing emotions. But he’d been so cool with her lately. Hadn’t returned her calls, just sent a few text messages about the arrangements. God, I haven’t seen Tom for six weeks, and here we all are, as a family, singing together… She pulled her sunglasses down and kept singing.

  ‘Australians all let us rejoice,

  For we are young and free…

  We’ve golden soil and wealth for toil…’

  Everyone sat down. Carol stood up at the lectern again and coughed. ‘Welcome, everyone.’ Gramps started clapping. She looked up from her notes, startled. ‘Quiet please. Those here to accept Australian Citizenship, please stand up and repeat your Affirmation card.’

  Katie scrambled in her handbag for it. Where was it? Suddenly a paper aeroplane swished by her head. And
y was about to launch it towards Carol. ‘James, give that back!’ she whispered, recognising the Australian crest on the nose wing of the paper plane.

  ‘Are we all ready?’ Carol looked round the room, then straight at Katie and Tom. Katie nodded then unravelled a crumpled piece of cardboard so that she and Tom could read out their pledge:

  ‘From this time forward, under God,

  I pledge my loyalty to Australia and its people,

  Whose democratic beliefs I share,

  Whose rights and liberties I respect, and

  Whose laws I will uphold and obey.’

  Katie couldn’t help herself. She watched as tears landed on the card and she sniffed. The gold kangaroo and plumage of the slate-grey emu on the crest became blurry in front of her eyes.

  ‘Katie, it’s OK.’ Tom reached for her hand and squeezed it. ‘We’re not giving up our British passports, you know that, don’t you?’ he whispered. ‘Don’t cry, darling.’

  When did someone last hold my hand, call me darling? The rest of the Affirmation went by in a bit of a haze. All she could focus on was that Tom was holding her hand. It had been so many weeks since she had been close to anyone, been held; she leant in towards him, inhaled deeply and closed her eyes.

  ‘No, Tom, it’s not the ceremony,’ she whispered up to him, keeping her head on his arm. ‘I just realised how much I miss you.’

  He squeezed her hand even harder and stared at the Australian flag in front of them.

  *

  They sat on either end of the sofa in the dusky living room, watching the last rays of sun flicker on the deck. There were twenty minutes until Tom’s cab arrived to take him to the airport, back to Brisbane, back to their separate lives. Gramps was upstairs with the kids, reading stories. Katie stared at the fabric of their joint lives surrounding them: the photos, the knick knacks, the paintings on the wall, the eclectic dot-matrix that makes up the picture of our lives, she mused, holding a cushion tightly to her chest.

  She looked over at Tom who was staring down at his tickets, clutching his BlackBerry in one hand and sending a message. What do I feel? Melancholy? Glad he’s here? I’m not sure, she thought. Just then he turned to face her, reached over and took her hand, the hand where her wedding ring should be. He traced the imprint on her finger gently, but didn’t say a word. Katie let out a deep sigh.

  ‘How much more suffering do we need to do, Katie?’

  He squeezed her fingers in his; the black clouds gathered in her brain again. Maybe it’s in my hands, she thought. He has done me wrong, really, monumental knock-your-world-about wrong, but what now? Do we just stay like this? Like two people walking alone in life, with a glass wall between us. When we see each other from now on do we carry on walking together, talking together, yet keeping that plate of glass in place, the plate of glass that others can’t see? Do we keep the barrier up, the one that’s solid, impenetrable, or do we let it slide away and let us move forward, let the healing begin?

  ‘Katie. I love you,’ he said looking straight at her. ‘I’m profoundly sorry for what happened. You are my wife, the mother of my kids. We’re a family; the weaving together of you and me and the children is a powerful thing – our life, and I miss it.’ As he said this she watched as his eyes became misty. He wiped them with the back of his hand, smiled at her, and his whole face lit up.

  She nodded. ‘I know, I know, it’s just that our life together is a bit frayed and broken, Tom. I don’t like it – I’m sad too.’

  ‘I want us to be strong again, Katie, like we were, remember? Life before, before…’ As he said it, he moved towards her, stroked her cheek. She felt her heart pounding. She had never heard him talk like this before. So much of her wanted to touch him back, but she felt paralysed. Her head was screaming, ‘I still love you, but you hurt me,’ while she sat quietly in the dark, staring at the outline of the windows in the twilight.

  Suddenly there was the sound of the cab’s horn outside and she watched Tom get up slowly, pick up his bag and then stand in front of her.

  ‘I have to go. But will you think about what I’ve said, Katie?’ He looked down at her. ‘And about what you said at the ceremony?’

  Looking at her handsome husband framed in the broken sunlight from the deck, his broad shoulders in a green checked shirt, chinos and with that oh-so-familiar fringe that he was moving sideways, she nodded.

  50

  ‘So how are you and Tom?’

  Katie and Gramps had been walking along the oceanfront in Manly in companionable silence. Rory was quiet in the buggy, chewing on a toy rabbit. It was one of those glorious no-cloud days with the sea glistening in front of them, but it was already baking hot; the November sun was harsh. Surfers glided by on breakers, tourists and locals littered the banana-coloured sand, bodies both pert and podgy; joggers trotted past them every now and then, iPods plugged in, running their own personal marathon to music. Men milled around with sunglasses, unshaven faces and were sipping espressos at outdoor cafés. Katie spotted a granny with her grandchild, tenderly adjusting the little girl’s navy bush hat; young girls walked by, giggling, low tops, high hopes.

  Katie turned to Gramps, pulled the buggy towards the railing that followed the shoreline path, and paused, took a deep breath of salty sea air. The sun was warm on her face and she stared up at the evergreen pines standing to attention along the shoreline.

  ‘I don’t know…’ she said looking back down. ‘I’m not sure if I can forgive him, Gramps, but it’s hard to understand if—’

  ‘Margaret had an affair.’ He said it softly, but there was no mistaking what he’d said. She stared down at his hands while he looked out to sea; she was shocked, really shocked. Her perfect grandparent world had been smashed. She studied his wrinkly hands, which were clutching the railing, the knuckles white; the tops of them patterned with russet-coloured age spots. She also noticed his wedding ring glinting in the sun. Margaret? She was devoted to Gramps and her only son, wouldn’t let Tom near the kitchen, Katie remembered, used to do it all. Margaret would tell you what you were having when you came to stay for the weekend about a month in advance. On the Friday I thought we’d have something easy, shepherd’s pie, Tom’s favourite, and then on Sunday maybe we’d have a roast? Lovely, Margaret, see you soon.

  ‘You never told us – does Tom know?’

  Gramps shook his head. ‘No, love. Why spoil the boy’s memory of his mother? Was years ago. Tom was only little, maybe five. Margaret had gone back to work, part-time, at the local school.’ Gramps stared out to sea. ‘She was only doing secretarial work, that kind of thing, helping out, but she enjoyed it. Seemed to really make her alive again, years of being with her own company – and Tom…’ He smiled ruefully.

  ‘And you found out?’

  ‘She confessed. She told me that she’d met this chap at the school. One of the teachers. He’d taken her out – at lunchtimes at first – and she’d been flattered. It progressed into something more…’ His voice went quiet and he turned to Katie. ‘It was awful when she told me. I remember it was one summer evening and we were both sitting outside, admiring our geraniums on the patio, talking about what we should plant for the autumn and she just came out with it, told me it was all over, that she couldn’t stand the deceit, that she’d given her notice into the school.’

  ‘What did you do?’

  ‘It was hard. Very hard,’ he said shaking his head. ‘We had to work it out. Work out if we still wanted to be together, if we could build the bridges. But I decided we could. I wanted to keep my marriage, make sure Tom had a proper home.’ He stared at Katie, raised his eyebrows. ‘It took quite a while to trust her again, but I made a decision that I could either be eaten up with bitterness, or enjoy the rest of my life – enjoy what was in front of me.’

  ‘I didn’t know,’ Katie said quietly.

  ‘You have to live for the moment, Katie, appreciate what’s around you. Look at all this,’ he said, gesturing to the majestic ocean, the horizon b
eyond. ‘You live in a beautiful place. Carol always says that when she wakes up every day she feels like she’s on holiday.’

  ‘I do know what she means,’ Katie murmured looking around her.

  ‘What are those things called, you know, the discs you watch on the telly? Those CNDs?’

  Katie burst out laughing. ‘You mean DVDs?’

  ‘Yes, that’s it. You know, Katie,’ he said leaning on the railing, ‘that DVD called “Life”, you can rewind it all you want, play it in your head —’ he put a hand on her arm and she turned to look at him ‘—but you can’t change it, you know?’

  She nodded, then looked at him. ‘Gramps, do you mind if I take a dip? Will you hold on to the buggy for a while?’

  ‘You go for it, girl. Rory and I will go and get a biscuit. Won’t we, son?’ he said, tickling Rory under the chin. Rory giggled inside the buggy. ‘If I were as young as you, I’d be in like a shot, off you go!’

  Once she’d dived in, she was amazed at how icy the water was, despite the sun. And yet, suddenly five lengths had gone by and she realised she hadn’t choked once. The salty waves caressed her face and gave her vigour. Looking up to see if Gramps had got back with Rory from the café, she noticed that he was deep in conversation with the leathery-faced old men sitting on the bench. Rory was grinning and munching on a soggy biscuit in the buggy. The men were swapping stories, laughing, their bodies glistening from an early swim. What are they saying? Have they all got secrets too? Well, Tom doesn’t know my secret, she thought, but he’s going to find out in two weeks when we meet. Yes, she decided, I’m going to enjoy what’s in front of me.

  51

  The beach was quiet. It was 8.30 a.m. The sun shone weakly over the damp, clumpy sand. The air was chilly; lumpy grey clouds swirled in the sky. The ocean looked choppy. White breakers were crashing on the nearby rocks as Katie peered past the headland, swayed a little. A wave of nausea washed over her and she took a deep breath. Everyone was checking their equipment. There were twenty minutes before they had to get into the boat. Blake waved at her, motioned that he was about to come over. She started to check her gear and tanks.