Almost Perfect (45 page)

‘I'm sorry?' said Liam, startled.

She took a breath and gathered her thoughts. ‘A child is forever. You can't divorce a child.'

He looked at her seriously. ‘I know that, Georgie.'

‘Whatever happens.'

‘Whatever happens.'

‘Even when he's older. You know, I lost my parents when I was sixteen, and it wasn't their fault or anything, but it was still hard. I still needed them.'

‘I realise that.'

‘So you have to keep that in mind, you know, when you get into any relationships in the future–'

‘What?'

‘Whoever she is will have to be made aware that you've got a prior commitment–'

‘That's not going to happen.'

‘What?' Georgie looked at him.

‘A relationship.'

‘How do you know that?'

‘I know.'

‘What, never?'

‘I'm not going to have this conversation with you.'

‘But–'

‘Georgie, just drop it, okay?' he said firmly.

He looked back at his magazine, flipping over a page. They barely spoke for the rest of the flight.

Liam had organised a hire car, so he deposited Georgie in the passenger pick-up bay and ordered her to sit there and not move or try to carry anything until he returned with the car.

‘You're not wearing your seatbelt, Georgie,' said Liam, as they drove away from the airport.

‘You know, technically, I don't actually have to wear a–'

‘Put it on.'

‘It's not required by law when you're pregnant.'

‘Georgie, I'm going to pull over unless you put on that seatbelt.'

‘All right, all right, Mr Bossy Big Boots,' she frowned, sliding the belt around her. ‘Do you always come over all big-brother-like the closer you get to home?'

‘I'm only concerned about your safety.'

Georgie reclined her seat back a little, resting her hands on top of her belly and tapping her fingers. ‘So, am I going to get to meet all nine siblings this weekend?'

‘Well, I'm one of the nine,' Liam reminded her. ‘And my youngest brother is overseas, two of my sisters are interstate and another brother lives up in the Dandenongs.'

‘Will I meet the rest?'

‘I don't know, I told Mum not to make a fuss.'

‘Thanks,' Georgie said drily.

‘I didn't think you'd want to be inundated with my relatives.'

‘They're your brothers and sisters. I want to check out the gene pool, see if there're any good looks or brains in the family.'

Liam looked sideways at her.

‘I'd even settle for a sense of humour,' she muttered.

They drove on along the drab, endless freeway, looking at drab, endless scenery. ‘How long is it going to take to get there?' Georgie asked after a while.

‘About forty-five minutes. They live in Abbotsford.'

‘Oh.'

‘Near Richmond.'

‘Oh.'

Liam glanced over at her. ‘Do you know Melbourne?'

‘No.'

‘Well, it's inner city, on the west side of the Yarra.'

Georgie nodded vaguely.

‘Not far from Collingwood.'

‘Ah, now I've heard of Collingwood. They have a football team.'

‘So does Richmond.'

‘Well, what do you know.'

‘Listen, while I think of it,' said Liam, ‘I've been meaning to warn you, my family's very working class.'

‘What does that mean?'

‘You know, my brothers are tradesmen, my sisters
have worked in service industries mostly. I was the only one who went to uni.'

‘So?'

‘Well, I just thought I should warn you.'

‘There it is, you said it again.' Georgie was incredulous. ‘You're such a boofhead sometimes, Liam.'

He looked at her, alarmed. ‘Why, what's wrong?'

‘In case you've never put two and two together, I've worked in a shop since I left school and I never went to uni.'

‘That's only because your parents died.'

‘No it isn't. I wouldn't have gone to uni even if they were alive.'

‘But you own the shop.'

‘Yeah, because I got an inheritance to pay for my share and my much smarter partner runs the show. I just work there.'

‘There's nothing wrong with that.'

‘Which is exactly what I'm saying!' she declared. ‘Don't you dare “warn” me about your working-class family as if they're something . . . that needs warning about!'

‘Georgie, I'm only trying to prepare you,' he persisted. ‘I told you the house isn't much–'

‘Liam–'

‘Your father was an architect, mine's a fitter and turner–'

‘Okay, stop now!'

‘I'm only–'

‘Not another word, Liam!' Georgie said, holding up her hand. ‘You're pissing me off now. If you don't
speak again for the rest of the trip, I might get over it by the time we get there.'

‘I wish you hadn't said that.'

‘Why?' she frowned, looking at him.

‘Because there's something else I have to tell you and I know it's going to piss you off.'

‘Then keep it to yourself.'

‘I can't,' he said seriously. He pulled the car over to the side of the road and cut the engine.

‘What are you doing?' Georgie frowned.

Liam sighed. ‘I'm just going to say it and then you can yell at me, okay?'

Georgie crossed her arms, listening.

‘My mother thinks we're together.' He paused, waiting for a response. ‘You and me. Together. You know–'

‘I get it, Liam,' Georgie interrupted. ‘How did she come to that conclusion? Oh, no, wait, let me work it out. Perhaps because you didn't tell her the truth? Could that be it?'

‘Georgie–'

‘Liam, honestly, you couldn't lie straight in bed.'

‘I didn't lie to her, she just assumed–'

‘What a load of–'

‘Georgie!' he said, raising his voice. She glared at him. He took a breath. ‘I did tell her the truth,' he said firmly. ‘I told her that when things were going bad with Anna, I met a wonderful woman, and even though the timing was all wrong, I knew she was the love of my life. But it all blew up in my face before I had a chance to work it out, and I lost her. And maybe I deserved to.'

He paused. Georgie didn't say anything. She could barely breathe.

‘And when I told her about the baby . . . well, Georgie, she's my mother. She knew how I felt and she started getting her hopes up for me. So when I said we were coming to visit and you insisted on staying at the house, Mum jumped to the conclusion we'd worked things out. She was so thrilled, I didn't have the heart to tell her . . . she even started asking if we were going to get married–'

‘You didn't tell her we were going to get married, did you?'

‘No, I said we were taking it slowly, we wanted to do the right thing by the baby. That's the truth, isn't it?'

‘Mm,' Georgie grunted. ‘Liam MacMullen's own brand of the truth.' She paused. ‘I hate this, you know how much I hate lying.'

‘I know.'

‘But I don't want to upset your poor mother either.'

Liam was clenching the steering wheel, an anxious frown on his face.

‘All right, relax,' Georgie relented. ‘I'll play your little game, just for this weekend. But no lovey-dovey crap, okay?'

‘Okay . . . I promise.'

‘I mean, there's really no reason for us to lie outright, we just don't have to say anything.'

Liam glanced warily at her.

‘God, I'm starting to sound like you,' Georgie groaned.

‘I'm sorry for putting you in this position,' he said seriously.

Georgie looked over at him. He was rubbing his forehead. He did that a lot when he was stressed.

‘Don't worry about it,' she sighed. ‘Besides, there may be a positive side to this.'

‘Oh?'

‘At least I can boss you around.'

He started up the car and pulled out onto the freeway again. ‘We'll see about that,' he muttered.

It was midmorning when they stopped outside a single-fronted weatherboard cottage with an iron roof and a bullnose veranda spanning the front and disappearing around a corner. The house sat on a narrow flat block and was painted a shade of green that had probably looked fresh and bright about twenty years ago. A couple of spindly shrubs languished in the front garden. Georgie was already trying to figure out how a family of eleven had all fitted inside.

‘It's charming,' she remarked.

Liam grunted. ‘And you say I can't lie straight in bed.' He got out of the car and walked around to the passenger side as Georgie was opening her door. She took the hand he offered as she stepped out onto the kerb and stood up straight, arching to stretch her back. They heard a bang and turned to see his mother coming down the steps as the screen door she had flung open swung back into place with another loud bang. She hurried towards them, waving and singing out hello.

‘Slow down, Mum,' said Liam, shaking his head. ‘She only has two speeds, asleep and flat out.'

‘What's that you're saying, Liam?' she asked.

‘Nothing,' he said, holding his arms out to her. ‘How are you, Mum?'

She beamed as he drew her close into a hug. Georgie smiled, watching them. Moira MacMullen was a slightly plump woman, probably a little shorter than Georgie, with wiry grey hair that held the remnants of a perm. She wore a simple shirtmaker dress topped with a blue pinafore-style apron. Georgie couldn't see Liam in her at all. Moira turned, smiling broadly at her.

‘And this is Georgie!' she declared, reaching both hands out and grasping her tummy.

‘Mum!' Liam protested.

‘It's okay,' she returned. ‘I'm only getting to know my grandchild. Georgie doesn't mind, do you, love?'

‘Of course not,' she smiled. ‘If Chad the steward helped himself, then I certainly think Grandma's allowed.'

‘Nan,' said Moira. ‘That's what the grandkids call us. Nan and Pop.'

‘Nan it is then.'

Moira continued enthusiastically kneading Georgie's stomach.

‘Mum, what are you doing?' Liam frowned.

‘I'm working out the sex of the baby,' she said, matter-of-fact. ‘It's all in the way they lie. I'm not as good as Great Aunty Tess, remember Aunty Tess, Liam? Picked all you lot, and all your cousins.
Twenty-three altogether and the only one she got wrong was Margaret's boy Davey, said he was going to be a girl and then wouldn't you know it, his wife found him dressing up in her clothes, underwear and all. Of course, the marriage ended, but evidently now he's in a relationship with another man and he's very happy, though Bridgie tells me these trisexuals aren't always gay, but to be honest, I can't keep up with all the different types and what they do with whom, and the church says this and then it says that, and in the end I said to Margaret, Margaret, if God put all these people on the earth in the first place, let him and St Peter sort out what to do with them when they get to the gates. It's their problem. In the meantime they're not harming anyone and we've got enough to worry about, what with global terrorism and the GST. And besides, Jesus wore a dress.'

Liam was smiling as he stooped to kiss her on the top of her head. ‘Missed you, Mum,' he said.

‘Don't distract me, please Liam,' she paused, concentrating hard on Georgie's belly ‘ . . . I'd lay bets it's a boy.'

‘Do you think?' said Georgie, wide-eyed.

‘Next we'll be lighting candles and swinging chains above her–'

‘Liam, we will do the wedding ring test, just to make sure. Oh, but you haven't got a wedding ring yet,' she said, looking plaintively at Georgie. Then she covered her mouth with her hand. ‘That was very naughty of me, I won't say another word on the subject. I'll just keep praying silently and hope for the best.'

‘Christ, Mum, we've been here five minutes–'

‘And you're already taking the Lord's name in vain, Liam! Now you know I can cope with a bit of blue language, I have to with your brothers around, but not the Lord's name. You should know better at your age.'

‘I apologise, Mum.'

‘And I don't want to have to tell you again,' she said sternly. She turned to Georgie, her whole face a smile. ‘I couldn't wait to meet you, Georgie. Liam was tripping over his own tongue singing your praises to me on the phone.'

Georgie glanced over at him, and he shrugged sheepishly.

‘Now, how about a cup of tea?'

‘Oh,' Georgie swooned, ‘I'd kill for a cup of tea. I haven't had anything to drink all morning.'

‘Pregnancy bladder, eh?'

‘Mum–'

‘I had nightmares I'd get stuck in the toilet on the plane,' Georgie confided.

Moira laughed loudly. ‘Oh, you're gorgeous. She's gorgeous, Liam,' she declared. ‘Georgie, what having babies does to your nether regions, well, it doesn't bear thinking about–'

‘Mum!'

‘Shoosh,' said Georgie.

‘I know I had nine, that didn't help things. But Trude, Danny's Trude I'm talking about, she swears by those pelvic door exercises and she had twins. Eight pound one ounce and seven pound five. And she'd be eight stone wringing wet, that girl. Can you
imagine? She looked like a beachball with legs. I said to her, “Trude, don't wear stripes to the beach, darl, someone'll pick you up and start a game of volleyball.” Moira shrieked with laughter at her own joke. ‘What was I saying? Oh yes, you ask Trude about those exercises when they get here later.' Moira linked her arm through Georgie's. ‘Now come and meet Liam's dad and we'll have that cup of tea.'

‘I'll get the bags then,' said Liam to no one as he watched them walk off down the path.