Flying the nest, p.6
Flying the Nest, page 6
‘Don’t you want to get back with him?’
‘Well, yes, but—’
‘Then don’t make his life easier. Don’t give him a free pass to spend less time with his children. Anyway, I’ve been thinking, and I have a better idea.’
‘If you tell me I need to get a job or join Tinder or Bumble or whatever those stupid dating apps are called—’
She interrupted before I had the chance to deliver my murderous thoughts. ‘No, nothing like that. I know how hard you find it being away from the kids and I know being cooped up in my apartment is driving you crazy. Also, I’m not sure there’s any surface left for you to clean. So, I was thinking maybe you should get away somewhere more relaxing for the week.’
‘What? Like Bali?’
A few friends and I had been talking about the possibility of a girls’ trip for years now, but none of us ever seemed to be able to coordinate our schedules. Maybe Hayley could come with me? My other friends probably wouldn’t be able to at such short notice and also some of them had been a little off with me the last couple of weeks. As if they thought my misfortune might rub off on them and cause their husbands to follow Adrian’s example. Or worse—that I, desperate newly single woman that I was, might make a play for their men.
Being abandoned by your husband was a good way to find out who your real friends were.
‘I was thinking of somewhere a little closer,’ said Hayley. ‘Driving distance.’
‘Where? It might feel weird staying in a fancy hotel by myself.’ And I could just imagine Adrian’s reaction when he saw the bill.
‘If you’ll just shut up a moment, I’ll tell you.’
‘Sorry.’
Hayley’s eyes sparkled. ‘Wei’s family used to live a couple of hours north at Ragged Point. They moved to Perth when he was just a kid, but his granddad was a fisherman and lived there until he died about a year ago. He owned a little cottage not far from the beach that he left to Wei and his sister in his will. They want to do it up to use as an Airbnb, but until they get themselves sorted, it’s just sitting there vacant. Wei said you can stay there for free next week if you like.’
‘Seriously?’ Hayley and Wei had obviously done a lot more than sleep together if she knew this history about him, but there were more important things to think about right now.
‘Yeah. He said it’s nothing flash, but the plumbing should work. Just think how relaxing being able to get up in the mornings and enjoy a nice stroll along the beach will be. Wei even said you might see sea lions swimming in the ocean if you’re lucky, and the Pinnacles are only a short drive away.’
‘You sound like a travel agent.’
But this idea sounded far more appealing than the others she’d suggested. A week on the coast would trump another week in the city stuck in Hayley’s apartment.
For the first time in the three weeks since Adrian had announced he wanted to sleep with other women, I felt a flicker of excitement. It had been a long time since I’d had any type of holiday and I loved the beach.
‘That sounds amazing. Where do I sign up?’
12
Ragged Point
When I dropped Payton off at school on Monday morning, I had a car full of petrol, a suitcase in the boot, coffee in my travel mug and a stomach full of butterflies. I’d driven slower than normal and taken the long route, wanting to make the most of my last few minutes with her.
‘Bye, Mum.’ She leaned over to the driver’s side and wrapped her arms around my neck before kissing me goodbye. ‘Love you. See you next week.’
And then she flung open the car door, grabbed her backpack and skipped towards her classroom as if she hadn’t a care in the world, whereas I fought the urge to run after her and take her with me. The kids appeared to have accepted this new situation much quicker than me, but I didn’t want them to get used to it.
Divorce had long-lasting effects—I should know.
‘I love you both so much,’ I’d gushed over breakfast. Saxon escaped before I could get even more emotional, managing to wish me a ‘good week up north’. I’d told the kids where I was going and messaged Adrian, who hadn’t even bothered to reply.
I had a feeling the only ‘person’ who’d miss me was Charlie.
A car beeped behind me and I looked in the mirror to see there was a line-up behind me in the Kiss and Drive zone. With a fleeting glance in the direction of the buildings, I caught sight of Payton as she disappeared from view, then put my foot on the accelerator before the parent behind me got a bad case of school car park road rage.
Trust me, it was a thing. I bore witness to such episodes on a scarily regular basis.
And then I was on my way, heading towards the highway that would take me north to Ragged Point. The last time I’d been anywhere near the area had to be over ten years ago when friends of ours got married in Broome, and Adrian had the grand idea that we should drive all the way there, from Perth. With two kids under five. It took us two days each way and needless to say it was a disaster.
We hadn’t stopped in Ragged Point on the way because it was only two hours into our journey. On the way back we’d barely been talking to each other by that stage, the kids were screaming, and we’d simply wanted to get home. But I knew people who went there every summer to camp by the beach, and they raved about the place. Camping and I had never seen eye to eye, but I did like the sound of the quaint little fishing village and the slower pace of life they spoke of.
For the first half hour of my drive, traffic was busy and I didn’t have much time to think while making sure I took the right turn-offs. But once I got out of the suburbs, I left the rush hour behind in Perth and, aside from the occasional road-train whizzing past, it became a pleasant and peaceful drive. The flat rural landscape on either side of me had different shrubbery from what you saw in the city—lots of grass trees and other spikey plants.
About an hour and a half into my trip, I saw big mountains of white sand in the distance off to my right.
‘What are those?’ I imagined Payton asking.
If she were on this drive with me, she’d insist on stopping and traipsing through the rugged vegetation so she could play on them and she’d probably get bitten by a snake or something. Payton was a magnet for such dramas.
My grip tightened on the steering wheel. What if something happened to her while I was two hours away? What if the school had to call Adrian instead of me? What if Payton was inconsolable and only wanted me—she was used to me being the one there in an emergency, to take care of her when she wasn’t well.
My breath quickening, I picked up my water bottle and chugged down a few mouthfuls. What the hell was I doing driving away from my family, from my responsibility? And how on earth was I supposed to win Adrian back if I wasn’t close by?
With a quick glance in the rear-view mirror, I slammed on the brakes and was about to turn back when the radio was interrupted by a phone call coming through the bluetooth. The screen flashed up Hayley’s name. Sometimes she had ESP where I was concerned—it was almost as if we were the twins, not she and Adrian.
My finger hovered on the button to reject the call, but at the last minute, I pressed accept and pulled over.
‘You were about to turn around, weren’t you?’ she said before I had the chance to even say hello.
‘Um …’ I looked at the road ahead and tried to come up with a reason she’d accept. If only she hadn’t arranged this, I could say my accommodation had fallen through.
‘Don’t even think about it,’ she roared. ‘The kids will be fine. You’re barely two hours away and I’m only flying at night this week, so if there’s an emergency during the day Adrian, me and Mum will be available to deal with it until you get back.’
‘But—’
‘No buts. I’m putting my foot down. This is your week to relax, take some time to think about your future. Do I have to come up there myself and lock you in the cottage?’
‘If you did that, then you wouldn’t be in Perth if there was an emergency.’
‘Exactly. And that would be your fault.’ She sighed. ‘Seriously, Ash, it’s only one week. Try and enjoy yourself.’
Easy for her to say—she didn’t have kids, so she didn’t understand how it felt to have your heart walking around outside your body—but, as I was closer to Ragged Point now than to Perth, I may as well at least take a look. I could always drive home in the morning.
‘Okay, okay,’ I promised her. ‘I’ll keep driving.’
‘That’s my girl. I’ll call you tonight.’
Half an hour later I turned off the highway, following the sign to ‘Ragged Point: Home of the Rock Lobsters’, which was only a kilometre off the highway. Almost immediately the sea appeared in front of me before the town and I opened my window to let in the fresh air. My lungs inhaled the salty aroma and some of the tension in my bones eased.
One night, that’s all I needed to commit to.
I drove down into the town—if you could call a place with a population of less than five hundred people a town—and took in the lay of the land. The cluster of buildings, which made up what I guess you’d call the main street, came first. I noted a service station with a small motel behind it; a general store, which included a post office and lottery outlet; a cafe called Brewed Awakening, which made me smile; a pub that looked as if it hadn’t had any TLC in years; a fishing tackle shack; and a town hall. There were a few people milling about on the path outside the general store and an elderly gentleman sat at a table outside reading a newspaper, a German Shepherd lazing at his feet.
Following Wei’s directions, I continued down the main street towards the beach, passing a tiny primary school on the way. There were kids playing on the equipment in the yard, which told me that somewhere there had to be more life than I’d seen so far.
Just after the school, the main street formed a T-junction with another road. Pointing left was a sign to something called The Lobster Factory, but I was going right along a street that ran parallel to the ocean. Down here, I saw a playground, a car park, some public conveniences and an orange shack with a sign on the side that claimed to sell ‘the best fish’n’chips in the southern hemisphere’.
Big claim, I thought, my mouth watering nonetheless.
It wouldn’t help my mission to lose weight and reinvent myself so my husband might notice me again, but if I managed to stay longer than one night, maybe I’d treat myself. Past the playground came the white sand, covered in seaweed, which led to the most stunning aqua-blue water I’d ever seen. My toes wriggled in my sensible shoes and I could imagine the feel of the sand between them, the water splashing at my ankles. It had been a long time since I’d paddled in the ocean without having the added worry of watching my kids, and I had a sudden urge to do just that.
My sensible side reminded me, however, that my priority was getting to the shack—I could check out the beach later—and so I drove on. After less than a hundred metres or so, the road curved off the water, and houses sprouted on either side—some directly waterfront, others slightly higher across the road but still with a good view and access to the beach.
I suspected some of the larger places—with their fancy architecture and full-length windows—belonged to the city folk who came here in the summer, and that the quirkier, less grand, box-like abodes might house locals. It was the latter type that Wei’s directions led me to and, as I parked my car on the patchy grass in front—there was no driveway or even garden to speak of—I wondered what I was getting myself into. Hayley had described the place as a ‘cottage’, which evoked images of cute, cosy dwellings with thatched roofs and flowers bursting out of window boxes—the kind of house you read about in fairy tales.
The faded blue fibro construction in front of me was about as far from that as you could get. Wind swished above me between the massive gum trees I’d parked under, and a shiver scuttled down my spine. Not a sound around me—no cars on the street, no people going about their business in any of the nearby houses. Even in broad daylight, the place had an eerie feel about it.
A wide porch stood at the front with two rooms jutting forward at each end. As I approached, I noticed the paint peeling off the gutters and awnings, but I guessed it had charm in its own way.
This reckoning didn’t last long. As I stepped up onto the porch the wooden stairs wobbled beneath my feet and I almost fell, grabbing out quickly to hold on to the rail and yelping as a splinter of wood stabbed into my thumb. Pain shooting through me, I shoved it into my mouth, cringing as I thought about what germs could be festering on the rail. Maybe I needed a tetanus shot. But how close was the nearest doctor? I didn’t remember seeing a medical centre on my way in. Ragged Point might only be a couple of hours from the city, but right now it felt like the ends of the earth.
An old rocking chair sat on one end of the porch, a colourful crocheted blanket scrunched up in a ball on top of it with what looked to be some kind of animal droppings adorning it. My stomach revolted and I added bin bags and plastic gloves to my mental shopping list—that blanket would be the first thing to go. Followed by the empty beer bottles and crinkled newspapers that filled various milk crates surrounding the chair.
The steps weren’t the only things that wobbled. At least three of the floorboards buckled as I walked towards the glass sliding door and the rocking chair creaked, moving slowly back and forth. Although there weren’t any curtains at the front, the glass was so smeared I could barely see inside.
Taking a deep breath, I slid the key Hayley had given me into the lock and pushed open the door.
13
‘Oh my God!’
My stomach turned and my hand rushed to cover my nose as a horrible smell assaulted my senses. I couldn’t tell if it was dead fish or just mustiness from being closed up for months. Wei hadn’t been kidding when he said no one had visited since his grandfather died. I surveyed the scene in what I guessed to be the living room, if the woebegone leather couch, the leaning bookshelves and the TV in the corner were anything to go by. If it wasn’t for the mess, I’d think I’d stepped into some kind of museum.
The television looked like one my mother had bought in the early eighties—we were all so excited because it was twice the size of the old one. I couldn’t imagine it would work in the digital era, but there was a VCR machine beside it and a number of videos in a glass TV cabinet. A medium-sized coffee table sat in the middle of the room, covered with dishes, mugs and cutlery that now looked to be growing things on them.
Stepping through the debris on the floor—more bottles and newspapers, boating magazines that went back years, a couple of broken buckets, fishing tackle and a few rods—I crossed over to the bookshelf to check out the old man’s collection.
It soon became apparent that even if I did stay—which was looking less and less likely by the second—I wouldn’t be able to read any of the books. They were all written in what I assumed was Chinese. As I put a book back onto the dusty shelf, I heard a noise coming from the back of the shack and my heart hitched a beat. Frozen, I cocked an ear towards the sound, hoping I’d imagined it, but the rustling only grew louder.
Did it sound dangerous? I knew I should have brought Charlie with me—he might be a total softie, but his bark had always been perfect for scaring away unwanted visitors.
Glancing around the living room for something I could use as a weapon, my gaze landed on a stray golf club leaning up against the TV cabinet and I tiptoed to snatch it up as quietly as possible. The floor creaked and I cringed as I headed through a doorway into the kitchen. I did not want to alert the interloper to my presence before I had the chance to assess their danger factor.
But the rustling continued as I stealthily entered and I wasn’t sure whether I was relieved or horrified by the sight of a possum sitting in the middle of the table, tearing up an old cereal packet with its teeth.
It froze as it saw me and had the audacity to look at me like I was the intruder. Good God, this reminded me of the scene in one of Payton’s favourite movies where a man inherits a house in the country only to arrive and find a pig hiding under a sheet on the couch. I wondered how many other animals I might find as I explored the other rooms, and anyway, weren’t possums supposed to be nocturnal?
The possum must have decided I looked more foe than friend. It sprang from the table across to the bench, climbed up the half-shredded lace curtains at the window and then disappeared into a hole in the ceiling. My eyes widened as I took in not only the cracks everywhere, but also the brownish stains above me. A leaky roof or possum urine?
I wasn’t sure which was the better option.
Astonishingly, the kitchen was marginally tidier than the living room, but the surfaces were grotty. No way I’d put my beloved Thermomix in a kitchen looking like this, never mind actually cook anything here.
After the living room and the kitchen, I was prepared to find almost anything in the rest of the shack. The bathroom—although also outdated—harboured a little mould in the usual places, and I shuddered at the hair in the shower grate, but it could have been worse. A good scrub, a generous splash of bleach and a new shower curtain would do wonders.
My heart squeezed as I came to a closed door, which I guessed to be one of the two bedrooms. If I found bed bugs or it smelled like death—Wei hadn’t mentioned where his grandfather died—then I was out of there. With a quick breath, I pushed the door, but it hit something on the other side. Cautiously, I peered through the gap and discovered what I hoped to be the old man’s spare room. It was filled to the brim with boxes that looked to contain more tarnished bottles, newspapers and books, in addition to clothes, old shoes and all sorts of other paraphernalia.
Whatever else Wei’s grandfather was, he was clearly also a hoarder.
I couldn’t even see if there was a bed under all those boxes. If the other bedroom was like this one, my decision would be made.
