by Trish Morey
‘Nonsense,’ said Pru. ‘It was only a bit of soup.’
‘No,’ Jules said, putting her hand over her mother’s. ‘I didn’t mean the soup.’
Pru patted her daughter’s arm and Jules knew her mother understood. She got the impression Pru was about to say something, but she looked over at Della nearby and stiffened. ‘All in a good cause,’ Pru said brightly. ‘Now, are you sure you’re going to be all right tonight, just you and Della? You’re welcome to come back to my place.’
Jules shook her head. ‘No. I want my own bed tonight. We’ll be fine. I’ve got Della to look after me.’
‘I’ll look after Mummy,’ the girl said, her favourite toy tucked tight under one arm, fingers poised to go back in her mouth. ‘I can put Mummy to bed.’
‘You see?’ Jules said, tweaking the peach-skin perfection of her daughter’s cheek. ‘We’ll be fine.’
It was only when she was saying goodbye to her mother that Jules noticed the flowers on the sideboard. A bright arrangement of the best of island colour.
‘Oh, Mum, I didn’t notice these before. They’re beautiful. Thank you.’
Her mother cocked an eyebrow and gave a smile. ‘I didn’t bring them. Floss did.’
42
Floss had good intentions and a spring in her step. Life had never been better and she wanted to share the joy. Bookings were picking up and the indications were that summer was looking good. The kids were behaving—mostly—and the nights with Andy were a revelation. She felt more wanted than ever. The days he spent away on the freight ship only heightened his desire, making departures and reunions something special to look forward to.
So when Andy stormed into the bedroom like a charging bull, his aggression was as unexpected as it was terrifying.
‘You should have been more careful!’ he bellowed. ‘It’s not like we’re bloody millionaires.’
‘What on earth are you talking—’
But he’d already thrust something under her nose—a stick with two bold pink lines. ‘I found this in the bin! Did you really think you could hide it from me?’
She looked up from the stick to him, wide-eyed, relief swiftly overcome by shock. ‘It’s not mine.’
‘Then who the hell’s is it?’
As Floss looked at Andy, they shared a moment of panic.
Floss found Annie crying on her bed. ‘Annie,’ she said gently as she eased the door open after knocking.
‘Mum,’ Annie wailed, sitting up and throwing herself into her mother’s arms as she sat down next to her on the bed. ‘Mum, I heard Dad shouting.’
‘Everyone on the island did.’
‘And it’s all my fault,’ she said.
‘Why is it your fault?’
‘Because I’m going to have a baby.’
Oh god. Floss closed her eyes, feeling suddenly sick to her stomach, because it was one thing to guess what was going on, another thing to know it was true. She stroked her daughter’s hair and swept her hand down her back as she hugged her, looking at the walls adorned with posters of boy bands and Pink, the stuff of a teenage girl littered around the room. There was a picture of Trent in a heart-shaped frame on the side table. Funny how Floss had never thought twice about that before; they’d been a double act for some time, but Floss had assumed that it was no more than a teenage crush. Never thought it could lead to something so life changing. At least, not yet.
‘Mum?’ Annie asked, when Floss still hadn’t spoken, still stuck on thinking about her baby, now pregnant with her own baby.
‘You’re so young,’ she said at last. ‘You have your whole life ahead of you. You know this will change things if you decide to go ahead and have the baby.’
Annie reeled back out of her arms, her eyes lit up with equal measures of defiance and horror. ‘Of course I’m going to have the baby. Would you have got rid of any of us?’
‘No. No, of course not.’
‘I thought we were being careful.’
‘Things happen.’ Floss swallowed. ‘I take it Trent’s the father.’
Annie nodded, her sobs now turned to hiccups.
‘And how does he feel about it?’
The girl sniffed and wiped her cheek with the back of one hand. ‘Same as me—we want to get married and keep it.’
‘I didn’t realise you two were so serious.’
‘I love him, Mum, and he loves me.’
‘That’s a good start when you’re going to bring a baby into the world.’ Still Floss ached for her daughter, who thought she knew what she wanted at sixteen. Maybe she did, but what if she was wrong? What if she grew up wondering about other men? What if she was tempted like Floss had been? ‘You know, you don’t have to decide any of this yet. You’re young. There’s time to work it out.’
‘No, Mum, we have worked it out. Don’t make it sound like we don’t know what we’re doing.’
‘But to get married so young—’
Her daughter stiffened. ‘You and Dad got married when you were teenagers! I thought you’d understand. Why should it be okay for you but not for us?’
Floss wanted to say she hadn’t been pregnant at sixteen with limited options, but it didn’t seem like the time. Instead she pulled her daughter back into her arms and they sat there a while, before she asked, ‘So you’ve thought about the practical things, then, like school and what you’re going to do after?’
Annie nodded. ‘I’m going to finish. The baby won’t be born until June sometime. And then, I thought—I wondered if I could work with you here at Beached. Trent’s going to work at his dad’s bike hire shop.’
‘You have got it all worked out. So why were you crying?’
‘Because I heard Dad yelling. I didn’t think anyone would look in a bathroom bin. Funny thing is, I’ve known about it for a little while now. I only did the test to make sure I was still pregnant before I told you. But then Dad found it. And he sounded so angry.’
‘He wasn’t angry with you. He was yelling because he thought it was mine.’
‘Seriously?’
‘Seriously. He thought I was hiding a little secret. I think he figures five is enough.’
Annie laughed briefly before her eyebrows creased into a frown again. ‘So he’s not angry with me?’
‘Well, I guess you could say he’s a little shell-shocked. We both are.’
‘I was going to tell you, really I was. Trent was going to come over after school today and we were going to talk to you together. I just wanted to make sure I was really pregnant first. That it hadn’t been a mistake.’
From outside the room came the sound of cupboard doors and drawers banging in the kitchen, no doubt the boys wondering where the breakfast chef was. ‘There you go. I like him better already.’
‘He’s really nice, Mum.’
‘I know.’ Floss kissed her daughter’s forehead. ‘You wash your face and get ready for school. I better go make porridge for the masses.’
Annie hugged her tight. ‘Thanks, Mum.’
Floss went back to being mum for the next hour, serving breakfasts and organising lunch boxes, and when it came time to send the kids off to school, Annie looked more like herself, her hair in pigtails. A kid again, if only for a while.
And Andy, who’d rung work to say he’d be in late, sat down next to Floss on their bed, one arm around her shoulders, the other tucking her head against his chest, cups of tea he’d brought going cold on the side table while they both came to terms with the revelation.
‘My baby is pregnant,’ Floss sniffed.
‘That’s just it,’ said Andy, ‘she’s not a baby anymore.’
‘But she’s so young.’
‘Is she?’ he said. ‘It could have been us, way back when. We were having sex at their age.’
‘At least we didn’t get pregnant then.’
‘Yeah, we were lucky. But would it have made any difference anyway? We were always going to get married.’
‘But her and Trent?’
&n
bsp; ‘They’ve got a few things to work out, sure. Meanwhile we have to support Annie the best way we can.’
‘I’m going to be a grandmother,’ she said, staring blindly at the faded carpet. ‘Aren’t I too young to be a grandmother?’
‘You’ll be the sexiest grandmother on the island.’
‘Only on the island?’
‘On the planet.’
She smiled at that. ‘I’m not sure I’m ready to make love to a grandfather.’
He grinned as he kissed her forehead. ‘Don’t worry, we’ve got a few months to get you used to the idea.’
‘You know some people are still going to say they’re too young, and that they’re throwing their lives away?’
He paused. ‘Yeah, there is that, but have you had a chance to think about how your mother is going to react to this? She’s going to be a great-grandmother. And she’s not well and she doesn’t have a whole lot to look forward to, and she’s not going to give two hoots about Annie being sixteen and her and Trent not being married yet, but a baby—she is going to get such a kick out of that. She always loved it when you had a baby. I can’t wait to see her face when she holds Annie’s.’
Floss looked up at this man she’d thought she’d lost, looked at his too long hair and his craggy features and whiskered jaw he still hadn’t had time to shave, and in that moment, Floss had never loved him more.
43
Jules was snoozing in a recliner chair with a rug over her knees, her knitting put aside for now, when someone knocked on the door.
‘I get it,’ yelled Della, and Jules smiled, grateful that she had such a willing slave, even though it was probably only Pru checking in.
‘Mummy,’ said Della, running back. ‘It’s a lady.’
Jules cocked open an eye and pushed herself higher in the chair, cursing the sting from her burnt breast. She’d been told the side effects peaked a week to ten days after concluding her treatment, and the nurses were spot on. She got herself halfway to standing when Floss walked into the room, a casserole dish in her hands.
‘Oh, please don’t get up,’ said Floss. ‘I didn’t mean to disturb you. I just brought a pasta bake, in case you don’t feel like cooking.’
Jules was lost for words. Floss, right here in her living room? ‘That’s really nice of you.’ Then she remembered. ‘You brought flowers too. Mum said.’
She nodded.
‘I haven’t had time to thank you for those.’
‘It’s not necessary. I just hoped it might be a nice surprise when you got home.’
Jules floundered for something to say. ‘A lovely surprise, thank you.’
‘Shall I put this in the fridge?’
‘Oh, yes, of course. Della will show you the way.’ Even though the cottage was no different from the last time Floss had been here.
Floss disappeared with Della into the kitchen and returned a few moments later.
‘I should offer you coffee or tea or something,’ Jules said, at a loss as to what to make of this.
‘No.’ Floss shook her head and gave a small smile. ‘I won’t stay. I just wanted to let you know people are thinking about you, and to ask if there’s anything you need.’
‘I’m good,’ Jules said. ‘Or I will be once the side effects wear off.’
Floss smiled and was almost at the door when Jules asked, ‘Why did you come? Is it the cancer? Did you come here because you feel sorry for me? Because it’s nice of you to bring a casserole and all, but I don’t need people feeling sorry for me.’
The other woman sighed, her eyes raking the ceiling as if searching for the words. ‘It’s partly the cancer, that’s true. But it’s not because I feel sorry for you. It’s because it turns out that nobody is perfect, least of all me.’ She took a deep breath. ‘I’m sorry, Jules. It’s probably years too late, but I’m sorry for what happened between us.’ She pressed her lips together, sniffed, and then said, ‘I’ll see you later. I hope you feel better soon.’
Della looked bereft. ‘Is the lady gone?’
‘She had to go.’
‘She was nice, Mummy. Is she coming again?’
Who knew?
Then Pru bustled through the door with a basket filled with treats. ‘Goodness,’ she said, ‘was that Floss I just passed coming in?’
‘It sure was,’ said Jules.
‘Well, that’s nice,’ said Pru. ‘First flowers and then a visit.’
‘And a casserole.’
‘Wow. That is nice. Isn’t it?’
And Jules thought about her unexpected guest and her cryptic comments, and said, ‘Actually, it is.’
Pru put on a load of washing while Jules made a batch of scones with Della, and after her mother helped Della with the washing up, they all sat on the veranda eating scones with jam and cream.
‘Mmm,’ said Jules, ‘I could get used to this. Shame I have to go back to work in a couple of days.’
‘You sure you’ll be ready for it?’
‘I’ll be fine. It’s so nice being home in my own bed, and being spoilt by Della and you. But I have to get back to work. It’s only part time.’
‘Actually,’ Pru said, brushing scone crumbs from her skirt, ‘there’s something I need to talk to you about then. Something you need to think about for the future.’
‘This sounds serious.’
‘It is.’ Pru looked over her shoulder to where Della was busy riding her pedal car around the veranda, cheerfully engaged in her own fantasy world. ‘I need you to think about who you’d want to be guardian for Della if something happened to you.’
Jules wasn’t up to moving at warp speed just yet, but she sat to attention in her chair pretty damned fast. ‘What?’
‘I said, you have to think about—’
‘I know what you said. I just don’t understand why.’
Pru fixed her with a steely-eyed stare. ‘You know why.’
‘You were fine. I was away the best part of a month and you managed fine. No problem.’
‘Not for you, maybe. For me, every night was a struggle, even with those tablets the doctor gave me to help with cravings. Every single night, I had to look at Della, and think, No.’
‘But you made it. Why don’t you just keep going?’
Pru shook her head. ‘Oh, love. If only it were that easy.’
Jules’s throat tightened. ‘You don’t want Della? I can’t believe it.’
‘Don’t you understand? It’s not a matter of not wanting her—it’s about not trusting myself. I’m not proud of having to tell you this, but I thought it better to be honest. Because in all seriousness, I don’t want to go through life never having another drink. Surely that’s my choice? Besides, Jules, I’m sixty years old. She’s four. When she’s twenty-one, I’ll be nearly eighty. What kind of life is that for a child, growing up with an old woman?’
‘She’s your granddaughter! The only one you’ve got!’
‘Don’t you think I know that?’ Pru sucked in a breath, and when she spoke again, it was with her regular clipped tones. ‘Which is why I’m suggesting you think about it. Look, it’s probably all academic anyway. Health-wise, you’re fixed now, and if you’ve got all your ducks in a row, the i’s dotted and t’s crossed, then you’ll probably never need to resort to whatever arrangements you make.’
Jules sat back in her chair, blindsided.
‘There must be someone,’ Pru said. ‘Someone better than me.’
Jules shook her head, still trying to come to terms with her mother’s announcement. ‘Richard’s family are in Goulburn. Too far away and they’re a similar age to you; why would they want that? Besides, I want Della brought up on the island.’
‘Well, that’s one thing we agree on. I’m selfish enough to want to have regular contact, even if I can’t be her guardian. But that just means that you’ll have to find someone here. Like I said, it’s probably academic, but you have to get it sorted out, just in case.’
‘More scone, Mummy? I get you one
.’
Jules looked over to where Della stood, wearing her new jumper and keenly awaiting her answer. She smiled. ‘Yes, please. That would be awesome.’
Her daughter beamed, then pulled a scone apart and slapped jam and cream onto each half, before holding one out to her mother, the other held fast in her hand. ‘I look after Mummy really well, don’t I, Nana?’ she said before scoffing her own half.
‘You do, Della,’ her mother said, regret running deep in her eyes. ‘You look after your mummy really well.’
44
Once the interview date and time was locked in, Sarah could make other plans. Given she’d be in Sydney, it seemed as good a time as any to go and tender her formal resignation to Fortescue, Robbins and Lancaster. Then there were just the flights to organise, into Port Macquarie and out of Sydney.
It was all booked when her phone rang again. She picked it up, laughing, thinking there must be something she’d forgotten to give the agent.
‘Sarah,’ said the caller. ‘It’s Jules.’
‘Oh?’ Sarah said, her laughter dying in her throat. Sarah had heard from Floss—and Dot, via Pru—that Jules was back after her treatment. But after their last encounter, Sarah was surprised that Jules would bother to contact her again. ‘What do you want?’
She heard a half-laugh. ‘At least I can’t accuse you of feeling sorry for me.’
‘What?’
‘Doesn’t matter. Look, Sarah, I know the last time we met it didn’t go so well.’
‘Right.’
‘So I thought we could try again.’
‘Why?’
‘Because it’s important.’
‘Again, why?’
‘For old times’ sake?’
‘Which old times are you referring to, Sarah? The old times when we were friends, or the old times when you decided to sleep with my husband?’
‘God, Sarah, can you give it a break? We need to talk.’
‘I don’t think so. Thanks for calling.’ Sarah put the phone down. For all the pleasant moments on the island enjoying the quiet and the sunsets, it was going to be one hell of a relief to get back to Sydney.