The long road home, p.11
The Long Road Home, page 11
She got up and began pacing the room. Bill sat up in his bed in the corner. ‘Sorry, Billy boy. It’s okay, I’m okay. Stay.’ Alice did a lap of the small flat, stopping at the sink and pouring herself a glass of water. She stood looking out the kitchen window to the tiny courtyard garden while she sipped her water, trying to rein in her emotions. Gradually she felt her insides uncoil and the tension sliding off her shoulders and neck. And then she felt guilty. I’m sorry, Dad, she said silently to the air around her. She went back to her room, settled herself cross-legged on the carpet beside Bill and began running her hands along the velvety belly he presented. Stroking him always calmed her.
‘Why didn’t he leave me a note, Bill?’ she asked. Bill twisted himself, practically inside out, in order to lick her hand. Gradually clarity returned to her. If he had something to tell me, something I need to know, he would have, wouldn’t he? The thought rolled around in her and settled. She knew everything about his death that she was clearly meant to. While a part of her was disappointed, she also realised she was a little relieved. If she’d learnt something different, it might have opened up that old wound again that she’d worked hard to heal. She was still frustrated that she didn’t know why he decided to study law but had to accept she never would now. She couldn’t ask her mother and risk Dawn saying it wasn’t true or putting him down.
She so badly wanted to talk all this over with Lauren or Ashley – she was always able to succinctly put emotional things into perspective with them. But it was too late. Lauren would be in bed. Anyway, she knew what Lauren would say. Most likely, that her dad was clearly a good man because he didn’t burden Alice with knowing more about what he’d gone through to take the drastic action he had. He was protecting her, she’d have said. And Ashley would have gently said, ‘It’s not about you, Alice. Perhaps he couldn’t find the words. If he had then he probably wouldn’t have done what he did. It’s not about sharing it with you, it’s about protecting you. Saving you from the burden of knowing why.’
As Alice kissed Bill on his head and said good night, slipped into bed and turned out her bedside lamp, she decided she was glad to have the book and its couple of relatively benign secrets, but relieved that nothing major regarding her dad had been revealed and she wasn’t having to grapple with her memories and thoughts of him being completely unravelled. She wasn’t sure she could deal with that after everything else this year. But she was mighty glad to have Frank. While a stab of guilt accompanied the thought, she admitted to herself she was glad he’d left Dawn. Not for her or out of any malice towards her mother, but for Frank. He was too good a man to be reduced to a husk – or worse – by her mother, like her father had been.
Finally Alice felt calm enough to go to sleep and turned over and pulled the quilt around her. She really looked forward to getting to know Frank properly without the larger-than-life control freak Dawn overseeing everything. Bless him.
* * *
The following morning Alice was feeling tired and bleary-eyed from lack of sleep. She’d slept, but tossed and turned and had strange dreams – mainly fragments that didn’t complete coherent sequences or even really fully form. Alice wasn’t really someone who dreamt much at all, so when she did she noticed and tried to make sense of the details. She lay in bed for a few moments trying to remember what she’d dreamt before giving up and pushing the covers back. Bill was still in his bed on the floor, but only just. He was sitting to attention, waiting for her. If she hadn’t had him demanding her, needing her, sometimes in these past months she might have pulled the covers back over her and sunk into a lasting depression. Pets really were the best medicine.
‘Come on, then, mister. Breakfast time.’ Thankfully she didn’t have a headache from the red wine she’d consumed with Frank – she must have had enough water and food as well. She smiled: it had been so good to see Frank standing there alone on her doorstep.
Alice was just eating her toast, with liberal butter and a thin layer of Vegemite, when her phone rang. ‘Lauren, hi. How’s things?’
‘Good. Great. Have I got you at a bad time?’
‘No, I’m just having breakfast. It’s a bit of a slow morning here.’
‘I won’t keep you long. I want to get on with writing. I just wanted to let you know Brett and I are coming back again this weekend. Lunch at Mum and Dad’s on Saturday if you’re free.’
‘Oh.’
‘What?’
‘Well, I …’
‘Don’t tell me you’ve got a hot date!’
‘Oh ha-ha. No, but you’ll never guess what … But of course you probably already know, you …’
‘Alice, you’re not making sense.’
‘Frank – my stepdad – turned up last night. He said your dad gave him my address.’
‘There? Turned up there? Oh, god. Shit. That must have given you a real fright, given … Your mum wasn’t with him, was she?’
‘No. He’s alone.’
‘Thank goodness for that. Dad mentioned Frank had rung, but I’m pretty sure he didn’t realise he was planning to show up. I think he thought he wanted to send you a birthday present. And after the disappointment of that, well … Shit. I’m so sorry. Please don’t be cross with him – or me.’
‘I’m not. It did freak me out a bit – well, a lot – but I’m okay. I’m glad he told him. It was a wonderful surprise.’
‘Oh, thank goodness for that. So, what’s he doing there?’
‘He’s left Dawn. Shit, did I just sound pleased?’
‘A little bit,’ Lauren said with a laugh.
‘Oops.’
‘Oh well, you can’t help what you feel. So, is he okay?’
‘He’s great. Oh, Lauren, we had the best time. I’ve always liked him, but do you know, I’ve realised I can count on one hand the times I’ve had a chance to talk to him one-on-one.’
‘Wow, that’s crazy. But, as we know, narcissists make everything about them. So, I’m guessing he wasn’t weeping on your shoulder, then.’
‘No. A part of me feels like I should call Mum and tell her he’s here – commiserate. At least acknowledge what’s going on. But I’m quite enjoying the silence. And she’ll either think I’m gloating …’
‘Which you kind of might be, just a little.’
‘Hmm. But I do know what it’s like to go through a break-up. Maybe it’s an opportunity to reach out, bond a little, maybe.’
‘Well, that’s up to you, but just remember you can’t win with a narcissist. And I bet she’ll just upset you all over again.’
‘Yeah. God. You’re right. What was I thinking?’
‘You’re just being you. Personally, if you’re still getting the silent treatment, I’d leave it all alone.’
‘Hmm. You’re right. Oh.’ Alice stopped speaking. She’d just realised something.
‘What?’
‘I’ve just realised that me wanting to ring her is probably the programming – the need to please and always be the one to smooth things over, regardless of how many times I’m rejected. God, it’s still sort of seeking her approval or affection, isn’t it?’
‘Yep, probably. You haven’t done anything wrong, Alice. You’re not the one who should be holding out an olive branch.’
‘You’re right. Thank goodness I have you to make me see sense.’
‘Well, you always will, but remember, you just realised what you were about to do all on your own. That’s progress.’
‘Yes, right. And Frank can see it all too, now. He knows what she’s like. It was seeing how she treated me and how she reacted to Ruth’s death, or didn’t, that opened his eyes. And he’s pieced it together after seeing the posts I’ve shared about psychology. I think it was the one on the family dynamic showing the golden child and the scapegoat that was the clincher. Actually, I feel a little bad about thinking ill of him in staying and being clueless now. There’s so much more to him. He’s a lot smarter than I’d realised. I’ll tell you all about it later. I know I’m going on, sounding a bit manic, but, oh, Lauren, it’s so good to have someone who’s seen it with their own eyes in my corner. You’ve no idea.’
‘I get it, Alice. I do. And I know it’s really rare. Think yourself very lucky.’
‘Oh, I do. I really do. Shit, I’d better get cracking else I’ll be late. And, sorry, you want to get on with your writing. How’s it going?’
‘Slowly but surely. So, Saturday. Frank’s welcome too. I can’t wait to meet him, and I know Mum and Dad will feel the same.’
‘Well, if you’re sure? I don’t like to intrude.’
‘Don’t be ridiculous, Alice, you’re family. And Frank is, too. Mum and Dad will love a new person to get to know – you know what they’re like. But, yes, I know your impeccable manners prevent you from actually calling and asking. So, I will call Mum and, yes, if there’s any doubt at all, I will let you know and you can gracefully withdraw and put in an apology. But it will be fine. Better than fine – brilliant.’
‘You know, in the shower before I was actually trying to work out how to have you all around here with my limited space.’
‘Well, now that can be a game of Tetris for playing another day.’
‘And, guess what? I won’t even need to be collected. Frank has a car!’
‘You’re so funny. It really is no problem to collect you, Alice.’
Alice smiled to herself. It was all very well for Lauren to make such declarations – she wasn’t the one doing the driving back and forth.
‘Okay, gotta run.’
‘Shit, sorry to keep you.’
‘Stop apologising, Alice, it’s fine. Have a good day. See you soon.’
‘Bye. Have a good week.’
‘You too.’
Alice quickly finished getting ready, hooked Bill’s lead on, grabbed her stuff and left for work.
She was still feeling slow and bleary-eyed but a little lighter thanks to Lauren’s call. She smiled at thinking how retro it was that they actually often called each other instead of messaging all the time. It was nice. They’d been just like everyone else with their communication before all the palaver with Alice’s previous job that had nearly caused her to lose her mind, Ruth’s death and then leaving David. Her friendship with Lauren had deepened significantly. And what had previously been the odd text message trail had turned into Lauren calling to hear Alice’s voice and check up on her. She was very perceptive, and Alice knew she couldn’t fob her off with a text message saying she was okay when emotionally she really wasn’t. Alice didn’t call Lauren nearly as much as Lauren did her, and vowed to herself, now that her life was calming down, that she would right this balance. Thinking about Lauren and the Finmores, and how their love had helped her change her life, made her almost skip a few steps.
It occurred to her to hope Frank wouldn’t find emancipation too hard and go back into the web. That happened a lot, according to what she’d read online. And she could see how easily it did.
‘Oops, Bill, we’d better pick up the pace before we’re late,’ Alice said, checking her watch and increasing her stride.
She heard her phone ringing inside her bag. She itched to answer it but had a rule of not being on the phone when out walking, especially when she had Bill. Beside the door to the office she leant against the wall to collect her breath. She had two minutes before her official start time: just long enough to listen to the voicemail that had arrived with a ding earlier.
‘Alice, it’s Melissa. Lauren said she called you. No need to return my call. I’m just confirming we’d love to see you and meet Frank on Saturday for lunch. Come whenever you like after, say, ten. Just yourselves. Oh, and the lovely Bill, of course, that goes without saying. Can’t wait to see you. Have a great week. Bye for now.’
Chapter Thirteen
Alice called the directions while Frank drove. She was in a particularly buoyant mood, which she tried to tell herself was about spending time with Frank and catching up with Lauren, Brett, Melissa and Charles and nothing to do with Blair.
‘Ooh, ahh,’ Frank said, slowing the car as they came out from under the canopy of the tree-lined driveway and saw the stately home looming large ahead. ‘Cripes. I feel a little underdressed,’ he said, shooting Alice a slightly stricken look.
‘Don’t. They’re awesome. And very casual and laid back.’
On the doorstep moments later Alice had just finished the introductions and handed over the bottles of wine – one red and one white – she and Frank had taken nearly an age to choose at the bottle shop when they heard the sound of a vehicle approaching. They all turned or lifted their heads to look. Alice’s heart skipped a beat as she recognised Blair’s ute.
‘Howdy,’ he said, striding across to them on his long legs. Another introduction was made to Frank – thankfully by Charles as Alice’s throat was suddenly dry and she found herself unable to speak. She swallowed, nodded to Blair and managed a croaked, ‘Hello.’
Blair shook hands with Frank and Charles and pecked Melissa and Alice on their cheeks. Alice wondered if he had felt the heat in her face. She longed to put her hands up to feel how bad it was and cool herself down. Her heart was going at a ridiculous rate.
‘I’m not here yet – well, obviously I am,’ Blair said with a laugh, ‘but …’ Alice wondered if it was she who had him so unsettled ‘… just wanted to check you didn’t need anything on my way through.’
‘You are a saint,’ Melissa said. ‘But no, we’re all good, I think, thanks.’
‘I thought you would be.’
‘Why don’t you take Alice with you for a drive, since Lauren and Brett aren’t here yet? I’m sure she’d love to see your workshop, if she hasn’t already,’ Melissa said.
‘No, she hasn’t. Good idea,’ Blair said cheerfully.
‘Maybe Frank would like to, too,’ Charles said.
‘Oh I want to keep Frank here, dear – get to know him,’ Melissa said.
‘Yes, you’re right. You kids go along,’ Charles said.
‘Bill, you stay with Aunt Melissa,’ she said, picking up the little dog.
‘Okay. See you later,’ Alice said, hesitating before getting into the passenger side of Blair’s dual cab.
‘It’s okay, we’ll take good care of both of them,’ Charles said, clasping Frank on the shoulder.
There was silence in the cabin of the vehicle as they did a U-turn and then turned right instead of back the way Alice and Frank had just come. She looked out the window at the passing scenery – neat, even crops, which were starting to turn from green to yellow; ripening.
‘Wheat. That’s a wheat crop,’ Blair said.
‘It looks good. Nice and healthy. I’m not sure if you know, but I was married to a farmer.’
‘Well, there you go. No, I didn’t know that.’
‘Though I still probably couldn’t tell you the difference between a barley and a wheat crop, even when they’re ripe.’
Alice’s thoughts turned to Rick and how he’d look at a crop anywhere and be able to tell the difference straight away. ‘I do know they’re nice-looking sheep,’ she said as they drove on to where a large flock grazed. She guessed they were Merino, but it was only a stab in the dark.
‘Yes. They’re beauties. White Dorpers.’
Blair pointed things out both sides of the vehicle as they made their way slowly, and Alice experienced a wave of unsettling yet also comforting déjà vu pass through her. This was just like the day Rick had first taken her to the farm where she would later live. What she now knew was that he’d been pointing out features, crops, livestock et cetera, not with love and pride, like Blair now, but as a list of what was what. To Rick, she’d been on a farm inspection as was a common outing for country folk – usually with an Esky of beer in the back and drink in hand. She loved hearing the enthusiasm in Blair’s voice.
‘It’s turning out to be a good year after a slow start. Fingers crossed it finishes off well. Here we are,’ he said, turning into a small, orderly yard with a variety of sheds, which they drove between up to the side of a small weatherboard house painted dark periwinkle blue – nearly purple. ‘We’ve come in the back way,’ he explained, driving around to what was clearly the front of the house, complete with garden fence made from old-fashioned woven wire.
‘It’s gorgeous,’ Alice said, admiring the brightly blooming flowers dotted around in clumps of colour. There had to be a woman seriously involved at some point, she thought, feeling her heart sink a little, while at the same time remonstrating with herself for her sexist assumption. He was clearly creative – she’d seen his handiwork in her wooden box for herself – why couldn’t he also be a gardener who enjoyed the bright English look? And Lauren had said when Alice house sat that they had someone prune the roses – maybe that was Blair’s work.
‘Well, it will be in a few months when the roses flower. Come in while I put my milk and things away and grab a bottle of wine, and then I’ll show you my favourite place to work,’ he said, getting out of the ute and retrieving a bag from the back seat. ‘Welcome,’ he said, holding the gate open for her.
‘Thanks,’ she said, trying not to swoon at the rich warm scent coming off him as she passed close by. She told herself to stop with the fantasising and just settle down. If he was interested in her in any way beyond platonic, he’d have just kissed her when she’d paused and their heads had been level.
As Blair opened the door to the house their eyes locked briefly. Alice held his gaze until he looked away. And there it is, she thought. She was disappointed, but also a little relieved to have the cards on the table. She felt her shoulders relax and then her whole being, and she started to properly take in her surroundings. Again déjà vu passed through her – when Rick had shown her into the house and where they’d live together if things went that way. Not my house, he’d explained – part of the family company. He’d gone on to open each door and point out the spaces with all the enthusiasm of a real estate agent who wasn’t very good at their job.
