One Summer Between Friends

by Trish Morey

  Sarah had just delivered two cappuccinos, one long black and a soy latte to the group sitting on the veranda and was wiping down the coffee machine when she heard the door swing open and the tell-tale tinkling of the bell. ‘Sugar’s right here at the counter,’ she called over her shoulder, because someone was always coming in looking for more.

  ‘I’m not here for the sugar.’

  Electricity zapped down Sarah’s spine. ‘Jules,’ she said to the woman standing just inside the entrance looking so serious and gaunt. ‘What are you doing here?’

  ‘You wouldn’t come to me.’

  ‘I have nothing to say to you.’

  ‘That’s too bad, because I’ve got something to say to you. Something to ask you. A favour, if you like. An important favour.’

  ‘You want to ask me for a favour?’ Sarah fought the urge to laugh. ‘I don’t see why I’d want to do anything for you.’

  ‘You haven’t heard what it is, yet. At least do me the honour of listening first, before you decide if you can help me out or not.’

  The bell tinkled as the door opened behind Jules. Sure enough, a girl from the table outside. She’d barely got the words out before Sarah waved at the area of counter laid out with serviettes, sugar and spoons. The girl helped herself and left again, apparently totally oblivious to the tension that had Sarah and Jules pinned to the spot.

  ‘We need to talk,’ Jules said. She looked out the windows to where the group were laughing. ‘Somewhere private.’ She wasn’t asking this time, Sarah noted.

  ‘Can’t you see I’m busy?’

  ‘The shop has to close sometime.’

  ‘And I have to get dinner for my folks.’

  ‘Jesus, Sarah, what are you so afraid of?’

  Sarah thought about what Noah had told her, that she wasn’t a coward or she wouldn’t be back here on the island, and took a deep breath. ‘I’m not afraid of you, Jules. I just don’t want to waste my time on you.’

  Jules seemed to deflate as the fight went out of her, as though her attitude had all been so much hot air. ‘Please,’ she said, begging now. ‘It’s important, or I wouldn’t ask. If our friendship ever meant anything to you, please hear what I have to say.’

  It was the tone in her appeal that got to Sarah. The sheer desperation. What could be so important? Forgiveness? No. She’d already tried that. She’d know it was pointless to ask again. What kind of favour could she possibly expect Sarah to agree to? She didn’t care, and why should she? Except that Floss—reliable, dependable, as good as married to Andy from the moment she’d met him Floss—had admitted she’d almost strayed. And Floss had tried to breach the chasm between Sarah and Jules.

  Sarah licked her dry lips, curiosity driving her next words. ‘All right,’ she said. ‘After closing this afternoon. But I’ll come to your place.’ She didn’t want Dot listening in. ‘Just because I’m agreeing to talk doesn’t mean I’m going to say yes to whatever it is you’re asking.’

  Sarah didn’t get a smile from Jules. She got the slightest of nods in acknowledgement and then a whispered, ‘Thank you.’ Jules turned and opened the door, and disappeared down the steps.

  Sarah was left standing there, her blood churning. Because she wasn’t just remembering their friendship, she was trying to make sense of other stuff too, like the day they’d all done a trek up to the top of Mount Gower. It had been the perfect day to climb, no cloud hanging over the island to obliterate the view from the top and spoil the experience or their photos. There’d been Floss and Andy, Sarah and Richard, and Jules, who’d just broken up with her latest boyfriend, a Swedish chef called Björn who was working at Halfway. Things between Richard and Jules seemed to be going better that visit. Jules had promised to Sarah that she’d try to get on with Richard and, while she was terse with him, she wasn’t out and out rude. Not until they reached the top and were making their way through the fern-shrouded jungle.

  Sarah had been holding hands with Richard. ‘Look at that view,’ she’d said. The length of the island was laid out before them, an emerald green arc surrounded by water the colour of heaven. ‘It’s beautiful.’

  ‘You’re beautiful,’ he’d said, and dropped to his knees and pulled a ring box from his pocket, snapping it open. ‘Will you marry me?’

  And she’d said yes and he’d pulled her into his kiss. The most magical kiss she’d ever had after the most magical proposal, right here at the very top of this most magical of islands. Everyone had clapped and cheered, even Jules, though her smile hadn’t equalled the others’. Life had seemed perfect in that moment, and it wasn’t until everyone had finished with their photos of the view and it was time to make their way down the mountain again, that Jules had manoeuvred alongside Sarah, and said, ‘Are you sure about this?’

  ‘What?’

  ‘Marrying Richard.’

  ‘Of course I am,’ Sarah had scoffed. ‘Just because you don’t like him?’

  ‘He’s not good enough for you. He’s a jerk.’

  ‘What’s wrong with you? Why would you say that?’

  ‘I just think you could do better.’

  ‘You don’t know him.’

  ‘I know enough.’

  Sarah had looked sideways at her then. ‘What’s that supposed to mean?’

  But Andy and Floss had caught up with them, and Jules had dropped back, and it was only later, when they were back in Richard’s cabin, that Sarah had related what had happened on top of the mountain and asked him why Jules would say what she had. Richard had pulled her onto his lap and smoothed the hair from her brow and kissed her, before saying, ‘She’s just jealous because she can’t keep a boyfriend.’

  ‘Do you think so?’

  ‘Of course she’s jealous. Floss is married to Andy and now you’re marrying me, and Jules is going to be the odd one out.’

  ‘She always said she never wanted the whole marriage and kids deal,’ Sarah had said, remembering.

  ‘There you go. But now she feels bad. She just doesn’t want anyone having something she doesn’t want.’

  ‘Do you think that’s all it is?’

  He pulled her closer. ‘Hey, we got engaged today. Do you expect me to talk about some other chick all night, or …’

  ‘Or what?’

  ‘We could celebrate getting engaged.’

  ‘Yeah,’ she said, looping her arms around his neck, because that was a far better idea. ‘Let’s do that.’

  She’d thought her life perfect in that moment, and, to be fair, it had been pretty much perfect for a long time. They both had good jobs, great pay, a beautiful home and a fantastic North Sydney lifestyle. Tennis for her on the weekend, golf for him. Absolutely picture perfect lives. Until the moment they’d decided it was time to share their lives with a small person, and disappointment, frustration and the infertility journey they found themselves on had turned their lives mental.

  Infertility journey. What a joke. Where were the happy-clappy blogs from people for whom IVF never worked? How could it be called a journey when you never arrived at the destination?

  Sarah sighed and looked at the cloth in her hand, trying to remember what she was supposed to be doing before the thunderbolt called Jules had come walking into the store.

  What was it that she’d missed, that had caused her life to go so wrong?

  45

  Della was waiting for her in the car closely studying Jules’s hands as she climbed in, as if expecting a treat. ‘What did you get?’

  ‘Sorry, sweetheart, I wasn’t shopping.’ But she’d had a win of sorts—Sarah had agreed to come and talk. Although that wasn’t entirely a comforting thought and Jules’s pulse was already racing at the prospect. She glanced in the rear-vision mirror, ostensibly to reassure her daughter, and was struck by a tsunami of doubt so enormous that it was a wonder she wasn’t washed from the car to go tell Sarah that she’d changed her mind.

  Della was just a child. Was it fair to her to involve her in all this?

  �
��Don’t worry,’ she said shakily, half to herself. ‘I’ll get you a treat at the museum.’ Jules was stopping by to pick up a key so she could open the next day. As well as catch up with any news she’d missed while she’d been away.

  A short distance down the road, Jules stopped again, and Della, once free of her seat belt, bolted inside. ‘Watch out for visitors!’ Jules called uselessly after her. Jules had a pretty fair idea where she was headed: no doubt to show Horny her new jumper. The girl had barely taken it off since Jules had arrived home.

  She followed Della inside, only to be humbled by the welcome and the hugs she received from the staff. They swarmed around her as if she’d been gone a year rather than just a few weeks. By the time they were finished, she was dewy eyed and sniffing, reaching for a tissue as she assured them that she was fine. It was over and she couldn’t wait to get back to work.

  ‘Excuse me,’ said an American voice, interrupting the little get-together. ‘Where can I find that darling sweater? The one that little girl’s wearing. Do you have that in boys’ sizing?’

  As one, the group looked around to see Della emerging from the museum room wearing her horned turtle jumper.

  ‘I’d like two if you have them out the back somewhere. My grandsons are crazy about dinosaurs. They’d love those.’

  The staff looked blank. Jules smiled weakly. ‘Oh, no. I made that,’ she said.

  ‘You did? Well, maybe I could order them from you direct. I’m happy to pay for postage.’

  And just like that, Jules had sold her first two horned turtle jumpers, with an order from the museum for a dozen more in different sizes.

  46

  Spring was edging into summer, the weather becoming less changeable, bringing more sunshine and an increasing stream of visitors to the island. Sarah passed a mob of them taking photos as she rode her bike to Jules’s place. They’d been in the shop earlier, buying snacks and having coffee on the deck and they waved as she passed.

  That was something she’d miss when she got home to Sydney, where avoiding eye contact was almost an art form. But she would get herself a bike. She’d forgotten how much she’d enjoyed cycling, and how good it was for fitness. Maybe she might even think about riding to work if she got that job closer to home. Then again, cycling in Sydney? Maybe not.

  She stopped pedalling just short of Jules’s driveway and took a deep breath. At least in Sydney she wouldn’t have to worry about surprise visits and mystery requests from people she’d prefer to avoid. She dismounted and pushed her bike the rest of the way. She wasn’t in that much of a hurry to get there.

  Jules was waiting for her on the veranda. She nodded and Sarah nodded back. Excellent, that was the pleasantries taken care of. She kicked down the stand on her bike and took off her helmet, dropping it in the basket.

  ‘I’m here,’ she said, ‘but I warn you, if you’re going to start blaming me for what happened again, I’m going.’

  Jules blinked, a slow blink. Sarah saw her chest rise and fall with it. Jules looked like she’d lost weight. Because of her treatment? So what?

  ‘Come inside,’ Jules said. ‘I’ll put the kettle on.’

  ‘Have you got anything stronger to put in it?’

  Jules looked over her shoulder and shrugged. ‘Sure.’

  Sarah bypassed the milk and poured a slug of scotch into her coffee, nursing the mug in her hands, letting its warmth seep into her. ‘So what is it you want?’

  Jules bowed her head as if looking for absolution, and Sarah thought she was on a hiding to nowhere there, but when the other woman looked up, she realised that she must have been summoning strength, because it wasn’t meekness she saw in her eyes, but a sheen of steel.

  ‘I don’t want to waste your time, so I’m going to cut right to the chase,’ she said. ‘I need to make some plans, in case something happens to me. I have to make arrangements for Della.’

  Sarah was fixated on the first bit. ‘What’s going to happen to you? I heard the radiotherapy was just for mopping up, and that you’d be fine.’

  ‘But it’s not just the cancer, is it? Because even if it doesn’t come back and it isn’t breast cancer that takes me out—and touch wood it won’t be that now—it could be any of a dozen other things I don’t even see coming. I can’t rule anything out.’

  ‘Aren’t you being a bit melodramatic?’

  ‘Am I? We’re all dying, Sarah. It’s only a matter of time.’

  Sarah was still struggling to make sense of why she was here. She sipped her coffee, relishing the peaty taste of the liquor. ‘Still, what’s this got to do with me?’

  ‘All this time, I never had a will, which is daft, but in making one, I have to think about Della. If something happens to me, I need to have guardianship arrangements in place.’

  The first infusions of unease started seeping through Sarah’s blood. Surely she couldn’t mean … There was no way. ‘So where’s the problem? Surely Pru would look after Della, if anything happened to you?’

  ‘Pru can’t.’

  ‘Why? She’s, what? Sixty? She’s young.’

  ‘Pru is out of the question.’

  ‘But she’s Della’s grandmother—’

  ‘Pru can’t do it, okay?’

  Sarah reeled from the force of Jules’s attack. ‘But there has to be someone else. What about Floss?’

  Jules looked at her as if she’d just arrived from Mars. ‘Floss has five kids, a mother with MS, and a business to run, and you want to wish another child onto her? Do you really think she’d welcome another child into the family?’

  ‘I’m not wishing anything. I just don’t understand why you want to involve me in this plan of yours.’

  ‘Because you were wronged, Sarah, and I thought—I hoped—that this might be a way to offer you—’

  ‘What?’ Sarah was horrified. ‘You mean like compensation? Is that what you’re saying?’

  ‘It’s not like that at all.’

  ‘Then what is it like?’

  ‘I was thinking—hoping—that it might be a kind of atonement. I can’t make up for what happened, but I can—’

  Sarah shot to her feet. ‘No!’

  ‘Sarah!’

  ‘No! You can’t do this to me. You can’t have the baby I could never have and then give it to me in the event of your death like some kind of consolation prize. “Oh well, you were in the race, but it didn’t happen for you, never mind, here you go, every player wins a prize!”’

  ‘It’s not like that! Sarah, listen—’

  ‘It’s ridiculous, that’s what it is. I live in Sydney for a start.’

  Jules swallowed. ‘I was hoping that, if something happened, you would bring her up on the island.’

  ‘What, you mean live here? For god’s sake, get Pru to do it. She’s her grandmother, after all. She’s the obvious choice.’

  ‘She can’t do it.’

  ‘Why not?’

  Jules sucked in air. ‘Because she’s an alcoholic, Sarah.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘A functional alcoholic, okay, but she can’t let herself do it, because she’s sixty and she’s afraid she won’t last another twenty years without a drink while Della grows up. And I need someone who can be her guardian if something happens to me. It might not be cancer that kills me, I might not die before Della grows up, but I just thought that if I did, it was only fair—only right—that her guardian should be you. I’m sorry. I was wrong.’

  Sarah looked at Jules, with her sunken eyes and too-prominent collarbones and bizarre bequest. ‘I’ll say.’

  47

  ‘I’m sorry you had to come pick it up,’ Jules said, heading into the kitchen, when Floss dropped by to pick up her casserole dish.

  ‘It’s no trouble,’ said Floss. ‘I was passing anyway. How are you feeling?’

  ‘Getting there,’ she said. ‘Feeling better every day.’

  ‘I imagine it knocks the stuffing out of you.’

  ‘You know, I think it’s th
e being so far from home that makes it so tiring. Anyway, I’m just so grateful I didn’t have to go the whole chemo route. Avoiding that is kind of like winning the cancer lottery.’ She found the dish in the kitchen and handed it over. ‘Best pasta bake ever. Della loved it too. Thank you for thinking of us.’

  ‘Least I could do.’

  Floss turned to leave, but Jules caught her arm.

  ‘Floss, I just wanted to say I’m sorry about that serve I gave you the other day, questioning your motives for coming over. It wasn’t fair. You didn’t deserve it.’

  Floss smiled. ‘Oh, I think I did.’

  The other woman frowned.

  ‘Long, sad story,’ said Floss, with a shake of her head. ‘Maybe one day I’ll tell you the gory details.’

  Jules’s eyebrows shot up, then she smiled. ‘I think I want to hear it. Sometime.’

  The sight of Jules’s smile warmed Floss through to her bones. She’d missed it. ‘In that case, you probably will. But it will require wine, and lots of it.’

  ‘In that case, I definitely want to hear it.’

  The women laughed, and it was like something had broken, a layer of ice on a frozen brook, the water free to gurgle and sparkle underneath the sun.

  Floss stopped laughing. ‘It’s nice to see you again, Jules. I’m hoping—’

  ‘That we can be friends again?’ Jules said. She pulled Floss into a hug. ‘I’m thinking we already are.’

  48

  There was a voice crooning in Italian on the music system, a warm breeze drifting through the window and a naked man in her bed. Life was pretty much perfect. Sarah lay there panting, buzzing her way down from the heights, her body still humming.

  ‘I missed you,’ Noah said, breathing hard against her neck where he’d slumped after making love to her, his fingers doing lazy circles around her nipples.

  She kissed the tip of his nose. ‘I missed you too.’

  ‘Why do you have to live so far away?’

  ‘Hey, you’re the one who moved. Anyway, it won’t be long and I’ll be back. At least, back on the mainland, close enough for more regular conjugal visits.’