Broken (22 page)

Hilda arrived as Sharon was halfway through the last bag. She was wearing a pair of navy slacks and the coral ribbed top from the other day, together with her gold jewellery, and she brought with her a tea-towel covered platter.

‘Strudel.' Hilda placed the platter down on the kitchen table and removed the tea-towel with a flourish to reveal a flaky-pastry log on a crystal plate.

‘Thanks, Hilda. It looks delicious.'

‘My pleasure. Lovely tablecloth.' Hilda fingered the embroidered tablecloth briefly and then walked over to the lounge-room doorway to peer at Sharon's display curiously ‘Thank you for inviting me. Very interesting.'

Rachel from the swimming centre arrived next, rather embarrassed to be one of the first and also because she had brought her young daughter, thinking that Courtney would be there. While Mattie was reassuring her, two women from the preps reading group arrived together, both of them blonde, plump, expansive and extroverted. Their
large personalities immediately filled the room and broke any tension as they settled themselves on the couch, eating kabana and providing a cheerful running commentary on the Whimsicalities goods.

After that, everybody seemed to arrive together and the noise level rose even further. Ginny from swimming, tall and cool with her ice-blonde hair, Anne, Sally and Gina from canteen, Jo from reading group and Marianne and Jenny, two of the mothers that Mattie chatted with while waiting for the children after school. Fortunately Jo also brought her daughter, Georgia, one of Courtney's friends, so Mattie was able to introduce her to the other child and usher the pair into the bedroom to play.

As people kept arriving, Mattie hurriedly brought out the four kitchen chairs and then the desk chair from the children's room. But the chairs filled as soon as she put them down and still some were sitting on the armrests of the couch. Avid eyes glanced curiously around the unit as greetings were exchanged, if the women knew each other, or introductions were made, if they didn't. The two plump blondes, Marie and Helen, squeezed themselves up on the couch and called out ‘the more the merrier' every time somebody else came through the door. Hilda, who had settled herself on one of the chairs by the kitchen doorway, gestured for Mattie to come over.

‘Have you got many more coming?'

‘I think so.' Mattie looked around the crowded lounge-room worriedly ‘At least two. Maybe more.'

‘You need extra chairs?'

‘Oh yes.' Mattie looked at Hilda with relief. ‘Could you? Do you need a hand?'

‘No, I will just use your phone. And get Ernest to bring them over.' Hilda hoisted herself up and headed over to the kitchen as the front door opened again to reveal Hannah, their mother and Hannah's daughter Charlotte, a tall, very thin young woman who wore a pair of tiny rectangular glasses perched low on the bridge of her nose. All three looked rather astounded to see how many people were crowded into the lounge-room, which now seemed extremely small.

‘Charlotte, how lovely to see you.' Mattie smiled rather distractedly
at her niece, and gestured for them to come in. ‘Mum, Hannah. Thanks for coming. There'll be more chairs in a minute.'

Sharon sidled through the lounge-room crowd towards Mattie and asked, with some concern, how many more were expected.

‘I think that's it now. We're just waiting on some chairs.'

‘Well, while you're organising that, I'll hand out order forms and pencils, shall I?' Sharon gathered up her errant hair and flipped it neatly behind her. ‘Then we'll get started.'

Hilda returned from the kitchen to find her chair already taken so she went over to the front door and opened it, obviously waiting for her husband. But instead of him, or the chairs, Courtney, dressed in her pink tutu with white, rather grubby tights and red sneakers, came running through the doorway and stood just inside, beaming around at the company happily Mattie looked at her with amazement.

‘Courtney!'

‘I'm here,' Courtney announced smugly ‘Daddy said he couldn't put up with my whining anymore.'

Mattie's eyes widened. ‘Where is he?'

‘Gone.' Courtney glanced around at the guests, smiling at the mothers she knew. Her gaze did a full circle and finished with her grandmother and Hannah. ‘Grandma! Auntie Hannah! Mummy didn't tell me
you
were coming!'

‘Hello, Courtney. My, haven't you grown!'

‘Lovely to see you, Court.' Hannah gave her a hug and then stood back, gesturing towards Charlotte. ‘You remember your cousin Charlotte, don't you?'

‘Hello,' said Courtney shyly, pleating the tulle of her tutu between her fingers. ‘I like your glasses.'

Sharon had finished handing out pamphlets with the order forms attached, so while Courtney reacquainted herself with her much older cousin, Mattie went over to the front door to see if the chairs had arrived. Hilda was out on the porch, impatiently watching a rather short, very bow-legged, elderly man stagger up the pathway with a stack of white plastic outdoor chairs. He lowered them with a groan and looked up at his wife.

‘Where d'you want them, Hilde?'

‘This is Mattie,' Hilda said instead of answering him, pointing towards Mattie.

‘Pleased to meet you,' said Ernest with a strong Austrian accent, smiling cheerfully.

‘Likewise. And thank you very,
very
much for bringing these over.' Mattie slipped the two uppermost chairs out of the stack. ‘I'll take them from here. And thanks again.'

‘Some more coming.' Ernest turned and, with an ambling gait that reminded Mattie of old-time sailors, headed back towards his unit at the back.

‘Now that we've got plenty of chairs, I'll get someone to put your other ones back in the kitchen for later,' said Hilda, taking the two chairs from Mattie and passing them inside the unit.

Mattie nodded her thanks as she lifted up the remaining two and brought them in. As the chairs were quickly occupied, one by Hilda herself, Mattie did a rapid calculation and worked out that, with the ones Ernest was now bringing over, the seating arrangements should end up fine. Definitely crowded, but at least everybody, including herself, would have a seat. The noise level inside was high, as half a dozen conversations ebbed and flowed into and around each other, and Mattie noticed that Courtney had made her way over to the display tables where she was studiously examining some ceramic animals one by one, her tutu brushing against the lower table. Sharon hovered nearby, watching her with concern. Mattie frowned and then suddenly remembered the two little girls who'd arrived earlier.

‘Hey, Courtney, there's a surprise for you in your bedroom.'

‘A surprise? For
me?
'

‘Yep.' Mattie pointed towards the passage doorway ‘So you go in there while we do this and then you can come out later and look at everything.'

Courtney put down the blue glazed owl that she had been holding and, to Sharon's evident relief, made her way eagerly through the maze of occupied chairs, disappearing up the passage. Mattie watched her go and then looked outside just as Ernest ambled around the corner and deposited the next load of chairs by the front door.

‘Thank you so much,' Mattie said with sincerity.

‘Tell you what –' Ernest grinned and winked at her – ‘you can thank me by keeping the wife here for the afternoon. Then I can put my feet up.'

‘It's a deal.' Mattie smiled back and, as Ernest left, she took the top two chairs and passed them to Charlotte, who'd come over to the doorway to help.

‘Shall we get started?' called Sharon, over by the display tables.

‘Absolutely' Mattie passed Charlotte another chair and motioned for her to take that one for herself. ‘Just ignore me. And I'll make coffee and everything after you've finished.'

As Sharon introduced herself to the rapidly quietening women, Mattie went outside to fetch the remaining chair. She paused, while there, to take in a deep breath of fresh air and just enjoy the moment. As she did, a metallic blue hatchback turned into the communal driveway and paused for a second before executing a neat three-point turn and then coasting to a halt behind Hannah's Volvo. Mattie watched curiously as the driver-side door opened and a slim woman emerged, beautifully dressed in strappy sandals, black hipsters and a cream vest that hung loosely over a snug black singlet. She had short dark hair that spiked with burgundy highlights and a pair of gold-beaded earrings that dangled almost down to her shoulders. It was Liz.

Half an hour later, Sharon finished the introduction and her pitch about the benefits of hosting a Whimsicalities party and moved on to a brief spiel about the products on display, but Mattie missed it all. Instead she spent the entire time in the kitchen, with Liz, barely able to stop smiling because her friend was really there, in the flesh.

‘And Jude's in Cairns now. We were up there on holiday last year and caught up. They've got a lovely house. Two storey, with a built-in pool that's got lights set into it so at night it looks fantastic. We went there for dinner. Got out all the old photos and all.'

‘That must have been good.' Mattie's smile froze for a second, immobilised by a twinge of jealousy Then she shook it off impatiently.

‘It was. And Jude's looking really good too, although she's put on a fair bit of weight.' Liz smoothed her vest down, unconsciously demonstrating how flat her own belly was.

‘Well, she's always been a bit plump.' Mattie pictured Jude as she'd last seen her, with a jolly nature almost too stereotypical of her rounded features. ‘And now that she's had children . . . how many does she have anyway?'

‘Four.' Liz pushed Hilda's strudel to one side and leaned forward confidingly ‘And they're real shockers too. The eldest is only ten but she's already giving them hell, and the others aren't much better. Temper tantrums, foul language – and the way they lay into each other! Some people shouldn't have kids. Seriously.'

‘That bad?'

‘Worse. Trust me.'

‘That's a shame,' said Mattie ineffectually, suspecting that Liz's rather harsh assessment stemmed from her own history of infertility She searched for a change of subject. ‘What about Paula? Do you ever hear from her?'

‘All the time!' Liz sat back again and raised her eyes to the ceiling briefly ‘Did you know she married a Pom? God, Mats, you should
hear
his accent! Not that hers is much better nowadays. They both sound like they've got their mouths full whenever they speak. It's hysterical'

‘And how is she?'

‘Oh, good. Great actually I believe she's doing really well over there. They say they don't want any kids, but lots of people
say
that, don't they? They soon change their minds.' Liz looked at Mattie, rather expectantly.

‘How often do you see her?' Mattie deliberately steered the conversation away from children once more.

‘Oh, only every other year when she comes back to visit her parents. Same as Jude.' Liz looked at Mattie intently
'You're
the only one who fell off the radar.'

‘Not really' protested Mattie, stilling an undercurrent of guilt. ‘You always knew where I was.'

‘Yeah, just not whether I'd be welcome. Remember when Alan and I dropped around about five years ago? Just before we got married?'

Mattie nodded slowly, remembering the occasion well.

‘It was probably the most uncomfortable afternoon I've ever spent. Jake hardly said two words and you were all jittery, jumping up and down to get us cups of tea and check on the baby and whatever. Do you know what I said to Alan afterwards?'

‘What?' asked Mattie, not really wanting to know.

‘I said you looked squished. It was the only word I could think of that described it.'

‘Squished,' repeated Mattie slowly, running a finger over the ridges of a crimson embroidered rose on the tablecloth.

‘Yes. So when I got this invite and I looked at the address and saw that you'd moved . . . And as it was a unit, I guessed you'd moved
away
from Jake. I thought – well, I thought . . .' Liz petered off, staring at Mattie and willing her to ask her what she meant.

‘Go on.'

‘I thought you'd come to your senses,' said Liz quickly.

Mattie grinned wryly ‘Not quite. As I said before, there's every chance we'll work it out. We just need some time.'

‘Yeah.' Liz picked at a fingernail absently, then looked back up at Mattie. ‘How're your kids?'

‘Good. They're good.'

‘Well? Aren't you going to ask me?'

Mattie sighed inwardly as she accepted the unavoidability of opening that particular door. She looked across the table sadly, and suddenly realised that rather than appearing despondent, Liz was quite literally glowing with news. Mattie's eyes widened. ‘You haven't?'

‘I have.'

‘Oh my god!' Mattie grinned, washed by a wave of happiness for her friend. ‘I'm
so
glad for you! That's fantastic! When?'

‘Two years ago.' Liz smiled smugly, but her eyes shone. ‘His name's Thomas and he's the most beautiful, wonderful, cute, talented . . . and everything else. We love him to death.'

‘I'm
so
pleased for you.' Mattie grabbed Liz's hand impulsively.

‘Believe me, so are we. If only because the cost of IVF was sending us broke.' Liz rolled her eyes. ‘And the bloody injections, and waiting, and
timing. Alan said he got so he'd forgotten what sex was like without a beaker.'

Mattie laughed. ‘Poor thing.'

‘Poor thing nothing!' Liz shook her head. ‘What about me? I felt like a womb on legs, with a flashing vacancy sign. Took us four tries, you know'

‘I should have guessed, the way you kept bringing the conversation back to kids all the time.'

‘I know!' Liz smiled. ‘And you kept changing the subject!'