‘Actually, I do need to be sarcastic. You are horrid for leaving me at this time, or at any time.’
‘Well, I’m not staying to hear any more. I have to go back to the hospital. Just do the things you need to do to get better.’
‘Not until you tell me what’s really going on. Anthony, are you leaving me?’
‘Look, I didn’t want to do it this way, not while you’re in so much pain. But you’ve brought it on yourself, not seeking medical care when the accident first happened and spending all your time worrying about other people.’
‘Whoa, where did that come from?’
‘Claire, it’s been coming for a long time. You haven’t seen it with your rosy glasses. I need to get out, to experience a different life.’
‘So, is there someone else? Are you going overseas with another woman?’
Claire had never expected those words to come out of her mouth, but they had and she couldn’t put them back. Anthony sat on the edge of the sofa and ran his fine surgeon’s hands through his hair.
‘Not exactly. Yvette helped to push the fellowship through.’
Claire recalled Yvette’s shimmering red dress. She was friendly and intelligent and Claire had been impressed with her speech at the Bastille Day function. And then it struck her.
‘So, is there something going on between the two of you?’
‘Of course not. I wouldn’t do that to you. What do you take me for?’
‘I don’t know what you’re capable of. I thought I knew you so well, but now I don’t understand you at all.’
Anthony’s phone beeped.
‘I have to go. They’re waiting for me at the hospital.’
Claire tried to get up from the lounge.
‘Shit,’ she screamed as her back spasmed. ‘Don’t go; don’t leave me.’
‘Claire, for goodness’ sake, stop with the histrionics. I’ll see you later.’
Lauren arrived home as Anthony was leaving.
‘Mum, what’s going on?’
‘You’ll have to ask your father. Says he wants some time out, to find himself.’ Claire stopped herself from talking about Anthony. ‘Anyway, what’s happening with university?’
‘What d’ya mean?’
‘You. It’s what do you mean.’
‘Whatever. I’m all right. Don’t worry so much.’
‘Worry? What do you expect me to do? You’re throwing away all your education and jeopardising your future.’
‘Oh, don’t be so dramatic. I’m not throwing anything away. I need some time to sort myself out.’
‘Why do you need to sort yourself out?’
‘Oh Mum, you’re so dense sometimes. I’ll tell you when I’m ready.’
‘Tell me what? Now I am worried.’
‘Mum, let it be. It’s no big deal, I promise. I just want to explore other options.’
Claire felt she was having the same conversation she’d had with Anthony, as if she was in the movie where the same moment is repeated, only this time it was with her daughter.
‘Honestly, I don’t know what’s wrong with this family lately. What sort of options?’
‘If you must know, whether I want to finish uni or whether I want to do something else.’
‘What do you mean you don’t want to finish university? That’s the most ridiculous thing I’ve heard all day. And what else would you “like” to do?’
‘I don’t know. Fashion maybe.’
‘Why on earth would you want to work in fashion? You can’t even sew.’ Claire felt her exasperation well up and tried to think of an alternative. ‘With your intelligence, you could do anything. How about fashion law?’
‘Mum, I said to leave it. Come on, let’s watch some TV.’
Claire and Lauren spent the evening watching soap operas and Claire cringed every time she saw a reflection of her earlier conversation with Anthony. She had never watched much television. She turned it on for news and the occasional documentary. Mind you, seeing this rubbish, she thought she’d done the right thing.
‘Oh Mum, it’s good to veg out sometimes. Take a break from all your high-level thinking and work and let go.’
‘You think so? Well, I don’t actually have a choice at present.’
‘Maybe it’s for the good in the long run.’
‘Now that’s putting too much of a silver lining on it.’
‘Well, you always taught us every cloud has one, so you should take your own advice.’
‘Ouch.’
*
When Genevieve dropped in again the next day, Claire knew she was being checked on, and wondered who else would turn up.
Sure enough, as soon as Genevieve had left, her mother bustled in with pastries and stories about other people with back injuries. She supported action of any kind and thought a good mix of traditional and alternative medicines wouldn’t do any harm.
Anna dropped in to go over the plans for the gala event and to fill her in on strategies to find new premises. At least she was brief.
During the afternoon, Claire had visits from each of the Suitability committee members. One at a time. Alice brought the latest financial report for Claire to go over. Genevieve called in again.
‘What is going on?’ Claire asked. ‘I feel that a roster of people has been scheduled to see me. Did you set it up?’
‘I cannot tell a lie – yes, I did. It’s crude, but I didn’t want to take any chances. You are so important to us all.’
Claire was flattered, but not deterred.
‘But how are you coordinating it? You’re so busy already.’
‘Well, I have to admit I’ve had a lot of help.’
‘Who from?’ Claire felt her spirits rise. Maybe Anthony was helping.
Claire fluffed up the pillows behind her back and pictured Anthony returning with a gift for her, which he had done the few times they had quarrelled in the past. He’d found the perfect gift each time, something beautiful, with an apology and a bottle of champagne. They’d retire to the bedroom and spend hours rediscovering each other. Though Claire doubted her capacity to relax and enjoy herself in her current state.
‘It was Anna,’ said Genevieve. ‘She’s such a find.’
‘Oh,’ said Claire. ‘Yes, she’s a treasure.’
‘And she’s really coming out of her shell. I saw her at the opera the other night with a dapper-looking man called Ted. He said he might be able to help us find premises.’
‘That’s great. Nothing else seems to be working.’
‘And Anna looked wonderful in the outfit from the styling session.’
‘But those clothes belong to Suitability. She should have returned them. We can’t have volunteers taking clothes that are meant for our clients.’
‘It’s just one outfit and it looks so good on her.’
‘That’s not the point and it’s not just one outfit. She still has the scarf she took home to clean and the jacket she took home to mend. It’s a form of stealing.’
‘Oh, for goodness’ sake, don’t be so inflexible and narrow-minded.’
‘I’m not. But we can’t be running a charity where the volunteers take whatever they want. Those items are donated by people in good faith. It could ruin us. You of all people should understand the ethical issues.’
‘Now you are scaring me with your over-the-top response.’
‘It’s not over the top. We should do something to get those clothes back from her.’
Genevieve frowned at Claire. ‘But we are going to sell clothes to the public.’
‘It’s not the same thing. Don’t you see?’
‘I do, and having clear boundaries is important. But we can’t lose her; she’s such an asset.’
‘I know. Perhaps we can talk to her.’
‘We? How about I leave it to you, now you have so much time to ruminate. Hey, I hear you’re watching the soapies. Not so high and mighty now, are we?’
‘Oh, piss off.’
‘That’s better.’
22
MOLLY
Molly sat in the sparsely furnished interview room at the Family and Community Services office surrounded by women she hardly knew or had never met. She wore the coordinated outfit she had been given by Suitability. Feelings of dread swept through her. She’d have to go through another discussion of her circumstances. She wished everything could go back to the way they were before things got bad with Joe but knew that would never happen. She’d just have to put up with other people knowing all the gory details of her life.
Anna sat beside Molly, wearing bland office clothes. Opposite her sat Sophie, younger looking but dressed in the same sort of clothes as Anna. A woman called Venera, from a local support agency, sat next to Sophie. She had orange hair, and wore a purple dress and black boots.
‘Venera is here to help set up a support network for you,’ said Sophie. ‘But first you need to agree to her being involved and to us providing her with background on your case.’
Molly squirmed. She hated being called a case, hated everything about being there, but what choice did she have? None that she could see.
Sophie started at the beginning, or as close to the beginning as she had been able to piece together. Molly felt her skin prickle every time another mistake was raked over.
‘Molly’s mother was well known to the authorities. She was in and out of hospitals, had a drinking problem and a series of abusive relationships. Molly herself was close to being taken away.’
‘What saved you?’ Molly was surprised at Venera’s soft voice.
‘During her childhood,’ continued Sophie, ‘Molly’s school attendance and behaviour were excellent and her grades were high. Her grandmother was there whenever she was needed.’ Sophie turned to Molly. ‘Molly, as you know, we were so sorry when your grandmother died. She was a fine woman.’
‘Thanks.’ Molly’s throat was tight. She thought she might stop breathing and wished she could open a window. She wondered if this was how it felt to have your skin stripped from you, bit by bit.
‘Despite her grandmother’s best efforts, when Molly was a teenager she fell in with a bad crowd and was a mother herself by the time she was seventeen.’
Molly wanted to scream that she was here, in the room. She wasn’t just a case study in some sordid file. And she wanted to shout that it wasn’t like that. Joe had been the love of her life and he had loved her. Perhaps too much. But she gripped the edge of the table and kept her mouth shut tight.
‘Molly, I know how hard you tried to keep your marriage together and how difficult it must have been with your husband being violent.’
Oh shit, thought Molly, we have to go over all that again. Couldn’t they focus on what was happening now, rather than raking over the past? She’d told them many times Joe had never hit her on purpose; the times he pushed her and she fell were accidents and Joe was so sorry afterwards. While she sat listening to these women talk about something they called ‘cycle of abuse’, she recognised the pattern and realised it wasn’t all her fault.
‘After four children, two of them twins – so three pregnancies – Molly’s husband left her,’ said Sophie. ‘Molly, I’m sorry we have to go over this. We all want the best for you and your children and we are doing everything we can to help restore your family unit.’
Molly thought how disappointing it must be to try to help someone, only to have them stuff up their lives yet again. She felt the pressure on her shoulders increase.
‘Breathe,’ said Venera. ‘One, two, three, in, hold, one, two, three, out.’ Molly did what she was told and felt a little better.
‘All right, let’s move through this bit as fast as possible,’ said Sophie. ‘Joe left and Molly was in hospital with a broken rib. The only person who could take the four children was her grandmother. And then Molly disappeared from the hospital.’
‘I tried to find Joe. To make everything better,’ said Molly.
Molly pictured the scene again, like it was one of those road movies where the main character gets deeper and deeper into shit. That was her. She seemed to dig herself into trouble and couldn’t get out. She’d followed Joe to Forster, then further north to Coffs Harbour where she landed back in hospital. When the cops found her, it was too late. Grandma was dead and the children had been put into care.
‘We know how hard you tried,’ said Sophie. ‘Now we are on the pathway to permanent restoration with the children, we have to make sure that a few bumps along the way don’t derail us altogether.’
‘As I understand it, Molly,’ said Venera, ‘you have no family support and you’re doing this all on your own. You’re amazing.’
Molly had heard this before. How wonderful she was for even trying. Anyone else would’ve given up and made a new life for themselves. Left the kids in foster care and gone travelling. That’s what some of Molly’s so-called friends had done. Gone off for a few years to play around and then returned to reclaim the kids. But not Molly. She’d never be able to leave again without the kids.
‘It’s important we organise a support group around you,’ said Sophie in a measured tone. ‘I can’t emphasise enough how important it is that you keep yourself together right now. For the sake of your children.’
‘That’s where I come in,’ said Venera. ‘Molly, we can provide a support service for you, but only if you want us to.’
‘And you’re in luck,’ said Sophie. ‘We have some money to fund a pilot support package for the restoration strategy. To boost our success rate.’
Molly’s head was a jumble of thoughts and she had trouble understanding what Sophie said.
‘So, I’m just a guinea pig, a statistic to you.’
‘Molly, we know there’s a lot to take in right now,’ said Venera. ‘We can set the network up soon. We’ll have some people you already know, such as Anna here, along with our own volunteers.’
‘To do what?’ Molly felt like a caged animal.
‘To be available to assist you whenever you need it or if you were worried about one of the children and wanted someone to talk to.’
‘Who are these people, and how do I know they won’t hurt my children?’
‘We vet all our volunteers and train them,’ said Venera. ‘But they aren’t there to take over your role so much as to help you. We also have a number of doctors on our list who are willing to make house calls.’
‘What do you think, Molly?’
‘Do I have a choice?’
‘You always have a choice,’ said Sophie. ‘However, we need to be assured you have adequate support so we can increase your access to the children.’
And there it was for all to see. If she wanted her children, she’d have to let all these strangers into her life. They’d all know about Joe, her drunk mother and her stealing.
Oh, well, so be it, thought Molly. There’s worse in life.
‘OK,’ she said. ‘I’ll do anything to get my kids back. Can I have them this week?’
‘We’ll start with a supervised visit, and then move to an overnight visit once the support group is established.’ Sophie turned to Venera. ‘How long will it take?’
‘We can get an interim one in place in a few days,’ said Venera. ‘Anna, I assume you’ll be a support person. We’ll have to brief you on our approach, but that can be done after the meeting and I can give you some material to read. Eventually you’ll need to do one of our courses.’
Molly heard Anna’s stomach grumble. Must be shitting herself, she thought. She’s in so deep now she can’t get out.
‘I’ll do my best,’ said Anna.
Molly thought of the little dove she’d caught in a net when she was twelve, which had been too timid to even try to escape. Grandma had gently freed the bird, briefly holding it in her hands before it flew away. She’d laid both hands on Molly’s shoulders and said, ‘If I see you do that again, you won’t get off lightly, even though you are my own pet dove.’ Molly wished her large, galah-like grandma was still alive to sort this
lot out.
‘Now Molly, unfortunately I don’t have a magic wand to fix everything overnight,’ said Venera. ‘But we’ll manage this one step at a time, and we’ll get there.’
Sophie’s phone rang and she left the room to take the call.
‘Molly, how are you holding up?’ Venera asked while they waited.
‘They do it all the time. Talk about me like I’m not there.’
‘Yes, they do have a habit of objectifying people. I’m here to support you so let me know if it gets too much.’
Sophie looked grave when she returned to the meeting room.
‘Molly, there’s something we need to tell you,’ said Sophie. ‘It’s about Joe.’
‘Joe?’ Molly sat up straight in the chair. She longed for news of Joe, to find out where he was and ask him to come back. Now she had a house, everything would work out. She was sure of it.
‘The call I had was from the police. They’ve been trying to find you.’ Sophie paused. ‘The woman Joe was living with took out an AVO against him.’
‘Against Joe? I don’t believe it.’ Molly slumped. What a tart.
‘Molly, it’s true. Apparently, he breached the AVO and the police went to see him.’
‘And … what? That bitch put him in jail, I suppose.’
‘I’m sorry, but it’s worse.’ Sophie took Molly’s hand. ‘He tried to escape on his mate’s bike. It was dark, raining and …’
‘And?’
‘He ran off the road and was killed. The police agreed we could tell you here.’
Molly shook her head. Her beautiful Joe. Dead. No, it was a mistake.
‘It was an accident. A horrible accident and we’re so sorry. Just take a minute. I know how you must feel.’ Venera’s large hand brushed Molly’s arm.
‘No, you don’t. You have no fucking idea.’ Molly stood up. She longed to scream that Joe was dead, nothing else mattered. Her Joe was gone and she wanted to leave this stuffy office and these self-righteous people.
‘And what are you lookin’ at?’ Molly spat at Anna. ‘Silly old woman. You have no idea.’
Everyone in the room sat with downcast eyes. Molly resisted the urge to throw the chairs at them and smash the windows.
The Changing Room Page 18