‘Well, no, Lucas, I don’t insist. It’s entirely up to you. But I do find it can be a good way to begin, especially if someone arrives here feeling a little tense.’

  ‘A little tense? Ha.’

  ‘Come on, then, let’s do some breathing together. Okay?’

  More out of politeness than any real conviction, Lucas acquiesced. Martha encouraged him to close his eyes, and she continued the exercises for longer than she usually did, gradually tapering off the deep breathing and lowering her voice to a murmur.

  Lucas seemed to relax, and Martha remained silent until he was ready to open his eyes and engage with her.

  ‘Tell me what’s on your mind, Lucas,’ she said quietly.

  ‘My metaphorical mind! I hardly know where to start. Aren’t people complicated? I mean, in my work, I can usually find really neat solutions to knotty problems. I was chatting to Ruby about it at your offsite.’ He smiled as he repeated that little joke. ‘I suppose it was actually an onsite, wasn’t it? Except for the park. Anyway. The good news about that is that Hazel is taking the boy two days a week—Tuesdays and Thursdays. They are in love with each other. I drop him off before work and pick him up on my way home. I was sure it would be too much for her, but she says not. She’s trying to persuade me to make it three days a week. She offered when we were at the park, after she discovered that Rani and I both have full-time jobs and the little fella spends every weekday at childcare. So, this is only the third week of the arrangement. I offered to pay her for her time, but she wouldn’t hear of it. She actually seemed slightly offended. Anyway, it’s taken a bit of re-strategising, but I think it’s going to be permanent. Ha. What am I saying? Is anything permanent?’

  Martha had never seen Lucas in such a state before. Almost wild-eyed. He was clearly happy about the advent of Hazel in Felix’s life, but there was a sharp edge even to the way he was describing this welcome development.

  ‘They read lots of stories and sing all his favourite songs. And he has a rest in the morning and a nap in the afternoon. He’s become a real chatterbox. He calls her Hazy, which is precisely the opposite of what she is, wouldn’t you say? Sharp as. If she was fifty years younger, I’d marry her.’

  ‘Except that you’re already married,’ Martha said with a smile.

  ‘Yes, there is that. I guess.’

  ‘You guess?’

  ‘Well, how can I put this?’ A long pause. No eye contact. ‘Felix Kumar is back in town.’

  ‘Oh.’

  ‘Yes. Oh. Indeed, oh.’

  ‘Permanently? Another secondment?’

  ‘Oh, nothing as serious as that. Just a one-week visit. He’s gone now. I said he is back in town. I meant was. Feels like is, though.’

  ‘Rani saw him?’

  ‘Multiple times.’

  ‘And?’

  ‘And what?’ Lucas sounded irritated.

  ‘Do you want to talk about what that was like for you?’

  ‘I certainly don’t want to. But I think I probably need to. Everything has changed for us. For Rani and me, I mean. It doesn’t really feel like there’s an us, right now.’

  ‘Did he meet little Felix? Do you mind me asking that?’

  ‘Meet him? No way! According to Rani—and I think I actually believe this bit—he doesn’t even know the boy exists. Doesn’t know he’s a biological father. Rani never told him she was pregnant when he left Sydney last time and she still hasn’t told him.’

  ‘You mean she hasn’t told him she’s married with a child?’

  ‘Not sure. I think he knows she’s married. I don’t know about the child. But she most definitely wouldn’t have told him it was his child. Oh, you should hear Rani on that subject. You’re the child’s father, Lucas—just take a look at his birth certificate! As if she actually believes it herself.’

  Lucas stood up and walked around the room a couple of times. He stopped and looked out the window at a day that was struggling to be sunny. His hands were thrust into his trouser pockets. He turned to Martha. ‘You know, the strangest part of all this is that I feel more like the boy’s father now than I ever did before. Thanks to dear old Hazel, in a funny way. She’s the grandmother he was never going to have.’

  ‘No other grandparents?’

  ‘My parents are both dead. Hadn’t I told you that? A light plane crash in North Queensland? Almost four years ago? Just before Felix was born. Her parents are still in India with absolutely no desire to visit. Ever, I’d say. I don’t think they’ve quite forgiven Rani for coming here when she was a student and then deciding to stay. And then actually daring to marry an Aussie. Of her own choice.’

  Lucas paused and turned again to the window. The blossom trees were starting to show their true colours.

  ‘One day, Rani will have to take her son back to see her parents. I doubt if I’ll go. I doubt if I’ll be invited. Not now, anyway. Not given Rani’s new attitude.’

  ‘New attitude to …?’

  ‘Oh … me. And the boy.’

  ‘You mean since the other Felix’s visit?’

  ‘What else would I mean?’

  ‘Do you want to talk about that week? You said you thought you probably needed to …’

  Lucas sighed. ‘Rani went out with him practically every night. Met him straight from work. I did the bedtime routine with the boy on my own.’

  ‘The boy? Don’t you want to call him by his name?’

  ‘What do you think?’

  ‘Please go on. I’m sorry I interrupted. I might just keep calling him little Felix, though.’

  ‘The last night he was here she didn’t come home at all.’

  ‘That must have been tough for you. Did you know she wouldn’t be home?’

  ‘I did. She gave me some cock-and-bull story about a work thing that might go late, it would be easier to stay in town et cetera. She must think I’m an idiot. How long does it take to get home to Artarmon from the city?’

  ‘But she’d told you Felix Kumar was in town.’

  ‘Oh yes. And she was quite open about having dinner with him. She was excited. Couldn’t hide it. All dressed up. But I guess admitting she was staying overnight with him would have been a bit too explicit, even for Rani.’

  Lucas came away from the window and sat down again.

  ‘Do you know, she hasn’t asked to meet Hazel yet? Her own son’s carer! Isn’t that a bit … unusual?’

  ‘It’s been a pretty unusual time for you both, by the sound of it. No doubt she’ll want to meet Hazel now that things are settling down again.’

  ‘Settling down? What makes you think things are settling down?’

  ‘Sorry. I thought—’

  ‘No, it’s okay. I’m just stressed out of my brain. And, to be very frank with you, I’m disturbed by my own reaction. Now her Babu Bangalore has departed our shores, I want Rani more than I ever have before. She’s come alive again. Even though I know why, I can’t help responding to it. She’s back to being Rani the Magnificent. Oh, she’s completely untouchable, though. Sorry to use that term. She needs me to keep my feelings to myself. She’s in another world. But I badly want to be there with her. Is that weird? Am I crazy?’

  ‘I think you once told me that Rani can be warm and passionate when she wants to be, and rather cold and pragmatic at other times. No doubt she is more attractive to you when she’s warmer, even though you have a fair idea about what’s warmed her up. You said it yourself—we’re complicated creatures, Lucas. Life is complicated. Sometimes our actions take a while to catch up with our feelings. Sometimes our feelings take a while to catch up with our actions.’

  Lucas pondered this for a while before responding.

  ‘She’s the mother of … yeah, let’s call him little Felix, although he’s already telling me how big he is. Soon I’ll be four—that’s his line. Fed to him by Hazel, no doubt. But, yeah, I’m his dad, more or less. We’ll stick together. Rani wants us to stick together as a family. But I wouldn’t go through another pregnancy if I knew the baby wasn’t mine. I can say that categorically. One of those nights she didn’t come home, I achieved great clarity on that point.’

  ‘I can see that. I understand that.’

  Another long pause. Another walk to the window.

  ‘That Bill Orton was a lovely chap,’ Lucas said, in a completely different tone of voice. Buoyant, almost.

  ‘Oh—Bill. Yes. I saw you two having a good yarn over a glass of Ruby’s wine.’

  ‘Hmm. That’s a thing I almost forgot. Ruby and Bill both brought wine, and Hazel brought scones, and I came empty-handed. I’m sorry about that. I thought you said not to bring—’

  ‘I did say that. Anyway, you brought little Felix and he was the star of the show.’

  ‘But yeah, no … Bill was great. Warm, you know? An open kind of guy. I thought so, anyway. We really connected. Good vibe. He told me a bit about his job. His wife sounds an interesting woman. Difficult, I’d say, from Bill’s tone. He asked me a bit about little Felix—you know, looking so Indian and everything. I gave him a version of the truth.’

  ‘A version of the truth?’

  ‘Well, just that I was raising him as my own but, as anyone could see …’

  Martha felt a stab of alarm on Lucas’s behalf, but said nothing.

  ‘Yeah, we might reach out to each other again some time,’ Lucas said. ‘One on one. He’s about the same age my dad would’ve been by now.’

  ‘Lucas, I …’ Martha hesitated and wished she hadn’t opened her mouth.

  ‘What?’

  ‘I’m afraid our time’s gone.’

  TWENTY-THREE

  ‘Sam? It's me.’

  ‘Oh. Hi, Mum. Nice to hear your voice. How are you getting on? How have you been coping with the fallout from your afternoon tea?’

  ‘Fine. All good, as one of my clients keeps saying. Thanks again for all your help with that. No, there’s been some lovely fallout, as you call it.’

  ‘Great. Look, Mum, I’m just about to meet someone. Can I call you back in the morning?’

  ‘Whenever you like. I was really just … I know it’s breaking all the rules, but I just wondered if there were any developments to report. It can wait till the morning, though.’

  ‘Developments? Oh, you mean Darren. Gosh, that feels like ancient history now. Didn’t I tell you what happened? Oh well, his wife copped him preparing the sample. I’ll spare you the lurid details. Anyway, he hadn’t told her about the deal—idiot. So when he owned up, she hit the roof. Not unreasonably, I have to say. End of story. Anyway, I’ve moved on. So no champagne on your doorstep this month, Mum. Look, sorry, I really do have to dash.’

  ‘Call me in the morning. Earlier the better.’

  ‘Okay. Bye.’

  Martha chided herself for having broken her silence on the subject of Darren. She knew Sam would tell her when there was any news to report, but her impatience had, once again, got the better of her. On the other hand, she thought she had detected a new tone in Sam’s voice—not excitement, exactly, but something brighter. She knew she was in constant danger of over-interpreting things with Sam, but she still clung to the hope that a new romance might make the quest for a sperm donor redundant.

  TWENTY-FOUR

  ‘Phew. I'm tired, dear. I've been looking forward to this hour. It’s a relief just to sit down. And … shoes and socks?’

  ‘By all means, Hazel—off with your shoes. It’s good to see you.’

  ‘It’s just looking after the boy, of course. Only two days a week.

  I’d have him every day if I thought I could handle the pace, but, anyway, he needs the company of other children. I’m all in favour of socialisation.’

  ‘Not wearing you out, I hope?’

  ‘Oh, no, no. It’s a bit like being back in the classroom. But I do need to build up my fitness a bit. My stamina. That’s all. I’m walking more. Which I should have been doing anyway.’

  ‘That all sounds good. Important not to overdo it, though.’

  ‘Don’t worry, dear. This body wouldn’t let me overdo it even if I wanted to. But the main thing is the preparation. He’s a bright little thing, is Felix. Needs to be on the go all day. We sing a lot. We do little craft things, like colouring in and cutting out shapes from paper squares. That’s a bit beyond him at present, but he’ll get the hang of it. He loves wielding the scissors. I make paper hats for us, which really gets him going. Talk about laugh! I’ve had to stock up on all this stuff, of course. Story books, too. Endless stories. I found this book about children from all the different nations of the world. You can imagine which page he turns to every single day.’

  ‘Now, Hazel, I do want to hear how things are working out with Felix, but first I want you to close your eyes and just give yourself up to this little massage.’

  Hazel did as she was bidden. Martha could hear her breath slowing and watched the expression on Hazel’s face relax into something like serenity. The haunted, lonely look had gone.

  When they were done, Martha wrapped Hazel’s feet in a towel and returned to her chair.

  ‘So,’ Martha said, ‘quite a revolution in your household.’

  ‘Revolution’s the word. This boy has … Well, this boy has … I’m sorry, dear.’ Hazel leaned over and took a tissue from the box kept permanently on Martha’s desk. Another trumpet solo. Clive would have been impressed.

  ‘He’s transformed your life, Hazel. I can see that.’

  ‘On Monday I’m getting ready for Tuesday, and on Wednesday I’m getting ready for Thursday. I really miss him over the weekend, but I need the rest, dear, let me tell you. I’ll tell you another thing that’s changed. I just delete those spammy email things. Brandy and Sienna and Crystal and Merrit Bonway—they can email me all they like …’

  ‘And that’s a relief?’

  ‘Well, I prefer having a real live person to talk to, let’s put it that way.’

  ‘Is there anything else on your mind, Hazel? Anything else you’d like to talk about, apart from this very good news about little Felix?’

  ‘Oh, don’t call him little. No way. I’m a big boy. Oh yes.’

  ‘Sorry: Felix! So … is there anything else on your mind this week?’

  ‘I’ve been thinking about that young girl Ruby. She’s dying to be a mother. Anyone can see that. I probably spoke out of turn at the afternoon tea—that was lovely, by the way, Martha. I should have said that before. What nice people they all were. But so many of these young things wait until they’re too old to really enjoy the experience of having a wee one. I know with Jason—up half the night, nappies, colic and so on. It’s not a bed of roses. May I ask … did you ever have children yourself?’

  ‘Just the one. A daughter.’

  ‘Lovely. Well, you know what I’m talking about.’

  ‘I do indeed.’

  ‘So do you think that Ruby might be leaving it too late?’

  ‘Look, Hazel, I’m sure you understand that I can’t discuss other clients with you. But I’d say Ruby took your advice seriously. I could see she was very attentive.’

  ‘That’s good, then.’

  ‘Actually, I have a message for you from Ruby. She loved your scones and wondered if she could have the recipe.’

  ‘Recipe? Goodness me. It’s been a long time since I bothered to consult a recipe. I’ll try and write it out for her. I’ll bring it next time.’

  Hazel lapsed into silence, and her face took on a more thoughtful expression.

  ‘Is there something else, Hazel?’

  ‘There is. And you’re the only person who’d understand this. Lucas asked me if I could possibly give Felix his bath and get him into his pyjamas before he comes to pick him up. He’s been kept late at his work a couple of times, and I’ve already given Felix his dinner. So I said yes, of course. They only live in Artarmon, so it’s a quick trip home to bed for the boy.’

  ‘I hear a “but” …’

  ‘I have to confess it disturbed me a bit. Ridiculous, I know. Woman of my age. But the whole bath thing …’

  ‘I do understand, Hazel. It’s not ridiculous at all. Your age is irrelevant. So how are you managing? I mean, what with having had the bath taken out and everything?’

  ‘As you can imagine, he’s too big for the laundry tub. So I bought a little plastic pool type of thing. They call it a splash pool—sort of a cross between a baby bath and a wading pool. I got the delivery man to put it out in the so-called courtyard. Lucas went to Bunnings and got me a very clever hose thing that clips onto the bathroom tap and runs out through the window. So now we have al fresco bathing! Can you believe it? We had the first go last Thursday and Felix thinks it’s the greatest thing out. He can splash all he likes. We have bubbles. Plastic ducks, of course. A toy yacht. And I don’t feel a bit anxious. It’s not like a bath at all.’

  ‘Well done, Hazel. Really. Oh, and don’t forget that scone recipe.’

  TWENTY-FIVE

  In the weeks following their lunch at Oscar's, Rob and Sam had met for dinner a few times, treading lightly, exploring the hitherto hidden reaches of each other’s lives. They had laughed at the number of things they had in common, from their love of wooden rowing boats, butterflies, old Hollywood musicals, bushwalks and mushroom omelettes to their dislike of dancing in public, magical realism in fiction, misplaced apostrophes and all codes of football …

  One of the most obvious things they had in common was their connection to Martha, and they both spoke of her with boundless affection. They acknowledged her as the fixed point around which all this new excitement had swirled, and laughed at the thought that, until the magic lunch, they might only have referred to each other as ‘my mother’s colleague’ and ‘my colleague’s daughter’. Now, as they found themselves passing euphorically through the transition from friendship to the state of being unambiguously and irrevocably in love, they had occasionally discussed the question of when they should tell Martha what was happening. Sam was adamant that their relationship must be kept hidden from her mother for the time being.

  ‘We don’t know what she will make of this Rob. She knows that after wasting all those years on a string of hopeless boyfriends, I’m desperate for a baby, and I’d hate for her to think that I had lined you up to be a mere sperm donor. Just another Darren, except in my bed instead of in a specimen jar. And I’d also hate for her to think that you had somehow exploited my rather too obvious vulnerability. No—it’s going to be quite confronting for her. Can’t we ease her into it?’

 

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