Lessons From Ducks (13 page)

Chapter sixteen

Over the next few days, apart from when it was having a spell in the hot water cupboard, the egg barely left Anna’s sight. During the day she kept it close to her person, nestled in the safety of her bra where it could absorb the heat from her body and be comforted by the sound of her heart beating. If she did an activity that required exertion and therefore posed breakage risks to the egg, she did her hot water bottle trick. Sometimes she just sat in her armchair, the egg cupped in her hands and her hands held directly in the beam of a heat lamp she’d purchased from the local hardware store.

Apart from the third day when the shrill sound of the phone shattered the silence, she remained undisturbed. She knew without answering that it would be Judy calling to find out when she’d be back so she let it ring out.

No one knocked on the door.

No one text her cell phone, although they’d have been out of luck if they had as the majority of the time she forgot to charge the thing and it faded gently, beeping softly, into darkness.

It was just her and the egg.

Curiously, she couldn’t have felt less alone. There’d been times in the past when the sense of being all alone in the world had been so strong she’d even got so desperate as to go and knock on a neighbours door on the pretence of borrowing something, a hammer perhaps, even though she had two of her own, just to make sure she wasn’t the last person left alive.

Most of the time it didn’t bother her. She shrugged off the normal human need for companionship and wore a mantle of contended solitude instead, the ducks all the friends and replacement family she needed.

Now there was that feeling, like that feeling in the air when winter gasps out his last breaths and spring takes her first joyful steps across the grass leaving budding daffodils and ridiculously cute bouncing lambs in her wake.

When she placed the egg against her chest and felt the shell soaking up her warmth, she could have sworn she could see a light deep within. Muted and soft, but an unmistakable life force.

Anna researched everything she would need to know about caring for a newborn duckling. She ordered a bag of special food online, enough to last for a few weeks according to the website, by which stage the duckling would begin to eat vegetables and fruit and other foods. She found a website that sold pet accessories, for every pet under the sun it seemed, and even though she could easily have splurged and bought special drinking bowls and a fancy container to use as the ducklings bed, in the end she decided a bowl from the cupboard and an old litter tray she found in the garden shed would do the job just fine. She lined the litter tray with warm blankets she ripped up.

On the fourth day of Anna’s absence from work the world changed again.

In the morning, far earlier than Anna would have thought was socially acceptable, the phone rang. Busy preparing her breakfast by the sink she jumped, then froze and watched the light blink with each ring. She had the silly idea that if she moved whoever it was would be able to see her, so she stayed put until the lights and noise ceased. Thank god she hadn’t been holding the egg she thought, shaking her head in amusement. The poor thing would have been bounced off the ceiling when she got a fright. Breakfast over and dishes done, she was heading to the hot water cupboard to check on her small, fragile charge when there was a knock on the door. Again she froze. Her first thought was that it was Judy come to check up on her, but since when did she make house calls to check on errant staff members?

Another knock, more insistent.

Anna decided to ignore it.              

But with one foot on the bottom stair she remembered the duck food she had purchased online and realised it must be the courier at the door. Just in case by some hideous chance it was Judy, she paused before opening the door to affect an injured look, all droopy and miserable as she imagined one would look when ‘sick’ with a tummy bug. She opened the door.

“Hello,” she croaked, then “Oh, it’s you.”

“Good morning,” Matt said cheerfully. He took in her demeanour. “You look dreadful.”

“Thanks. What are you doing here?”

“Can I come in?”

Grudgingly, Anna stepped to the side and allowed him to cross the threshold. She shut the door after him and discarded her ‘sick’ look.

He looked startled. “That’s odd. You look miles better now. Must be bad the lighting by the door? Either that or the sight of me cheered you up.”

“Something like that.” Anna waited to see if Matt would explain the purpose of his uninvited visit but he just carried on smiling at her like he hadn’t seen her for a year.

“Is there something I can help you with? I was kind of in the middle of something - ,” she let the words trail off.

“Don’t let me stop you,” he shrugged, “I’ll just put the jug on and make us a cuppa.” And without waiting for an answer he headed into the kitchen. Anna’s mouth dropped open. He knew nothing about boundaries, she thought. Or was she so out of touch that this kind of behaviour was now considered acceptable? If it was she wanted no bar of it. She had never turned up unannounced at someone’s house and she never would.

“I was just passing and thought I’d pop in and make sure you’re ok,” Matt continued, as he held the jug under the tap and turned the water on to fill it.

Anna gave up. She hadn’t known this man for long but already she knew that he wouldn’t leave until he was good and ready. She followed him to the kitchen island and perched on one of the stools, watching as he made cups of coffee, finding everything as easily as if it were his own kitchen and not hers.

“Why wouldn’t I be ok?” she finally answered him, watching as he rummaged in the pantry for biscuits and offered her one. “No thanks,” she said, “I’ve only just finished breakfast.”

“Fair enough,” he helped himself to two and dragged one of the stools around the island, climbing up himself. “I’m so used to starting work at the crack of dawn I forget other people start the day much later. This is practically lunchtime for me.” He dunked the biscuit and shoved the whole thing in his mouth, only remembering to shut it when he saw her watching, fascinated.

“What?” he mumbled, a crumb dropping to the bench. He swept it onto the floor and hoped she hadn’t noticed.

She had, but she’d deal with it later. “Why are you here again?”.

“Just checking in on my favourite new friend.” He finished the second biscuit and got off the stool to fetch more from the pantry.

“What makes you think I need checking up on?”

“A lady at your work said you were off sick,” he shrugged, “and you didn’t answer the phone so I thought a visit was in order. I come bearing get well gifts.”

Anna looked around pointedly. “Gifts?”

“Left them in the car. Wasn’t sure you were home. Wait here,” he crammed a fifth biscuit into his mouth and went out the front door, leaving it ajar. Anna felt an early breeze make its way inside and curl itself around her legs like a cat’s tail.

“I’ll be out soon,” she promised it.

“Sorry?”

She hadn’t heard Matt come back inside until he was standing right behind her.

“Nothing,” she spun on the stool, “look –” the words dried up in her mouth when she saw what he was carrying. Her eyes followed the string in his hand up to where a giant round balloon bobbed near the ceiling; shiny silver with bright yellow letters spelling out ‘Get Well Soon!” plastered across the face.

“You like it?” he beamed proudly.

“Well,” she searched for the right words, giving up when none came to mind. “
Like
doesn’t even come close,” she settled for.

His smile got even wider. “I knew it would cheer you up. Here,” he held out the string and she reached out and took it, surprised by how weightless the balloon was.

“It’s filled with helium,” he said, reading her look correctly. “It’ll last for weeks.”

“I can’t believe you bought me a balloon.”

“Biggest one in the shop.”

“You shouldn’t have.” She meant it.

“Ahh, it was nothing,” he was chuffed with himself and brushed off the thanks she hadn’t given. “So what gives?”

“Pardon?” Anna’s attention was still fixated on the bobbing balloon above her head. She’d take it outside once he was gone, she decided. Set it free. She imagined it soaring off up to the clouds.

“What’s wrong? A cold? Tummy bug?”

“Oh yes, something like that.” Then a thought occurred to her. “What were you doing at my work?” she frowned.

He flushed, embarrassed. “I thought I’d check out your interest rates and stuff. I’m in the market for a mortgage.”

“Really?”

“Yes, really. Don’t flatter yourself thinking it’s anything else.”

For the second time that day a knock sounded at the door.

“Are you expecting someone?” she frowned.

“Me? It’s your house.”

“But I’m not expecting anyone.”

“Neither am I.

“Maybe someone followed you.”

“Maybe, after all I forgot your location is supposed to be secret. Damn it, I forgot to turn left and double back a few times to shake anyone on my tail.”

Anna let go of the balloon and walked to the door. Opening it, she saw the last people she had expected to see, and the sight of one in particular caused her to crumple against the door frame and sink heavily to the floor.

Chapter seventeen

“Anna! Anna can you hear me?”

“Of course she can hear you. Christ, the neighbours can probably hear you.”

“Don’t be rude.”

“Well don’t be so loud.”

“It’s what you do when someone faints, you have to try and get their attention.”

“Learnt that during your medical training did you?”

“I saw it on Dr Oz, actually.”

“Oh, well if it was on TV it must be true. Nothing’s
ever
made up on TV, am I right?”

Anna heard Matt give a nervous chuckle and knew, even with her eyes squeezed tightly shut, that her father-in-law had just winked conspiratorially at him. Tempted as she was to keep her eyes closed and hope they would all go away, she felt the need to explain Matt’s presence in her house. In Tim’s, their son’s house.

“Quick, her eyes are opening, she must be coming round. Anna can you tell me how many fingers I’m holding up?”

Anna squinted at the pale hand of Barbara, her mother in law. “Three.”

Barbara sat back and nodded. “She’s ok.”

“Of course she’s ok,” her husband Frank said, “she’s made of sturdy stuff, our Anna.”

It was not the first time he’d applied that word to Anna, and it always left her with the impression he’d just called her fat, although she knew that wasn’t the case.

“Frank, Barbara,” she sat up on the couch – had someone carried her there? – and smiled at them with a welcome that didn’t quite reach the corners of her lips, “how wonderful to see you both. To what do I owe the pleasure?” She directed this question, as she did all her questions, directly to Barbara. She found it difficult to meet Frank’s eye; had done since the funeral. He looked so much like his son it hurt.

“We thought that as you’ve been unable to visit us, we’d come to you,” Barbara’s eyes roamed over Anna as she spoke, taking in her daughter-in-law’s gaunt appearance. “Don’t worry,” she added, placing a hand soothingly on Anna’s arm when she saw a fleeting ghost of panic flit across her eyes, “we’ve booked a hotel. We didn’t want to intrude ourselves upon you without warning.”

Anna studied Barbara’s hand while she composed herself, the fingers long and only slightly betraying the passage of time, thanks largely to the lotion Barbara slathered on them religiously each night before bed. Despite the lack of lines and age spots, Anna noticed for the first time how papery thin the skin was. She could see veins pulsating just beneath the surface, green and bumpy in places. She’d never noticed them before, and seeing them now she was reminded of the woman’s humanity. She so seldom betrayed her emotions, it was one of the reasons Anna couldn’t bear to be around her after the funeral. But blood pulsed through her as it did through us all, and the knowledge gave Anna empathy towards the older woman. She placed her own hand on top of Barbara’s.

“Of course you can stay here. You will always be welcome,” but was nevertheless relieved when they declined.

“We’ve already unpacked our bags back at the room,” Barbara waved a hand dismissively, her attention already on something else. Not something, Anna realised, following the direction of her gaze, but
someone.
Matt was standing at the end of the couch, looking far too comfortable in her house for Anna’s liking.

“I told you we should have called ahead Frank,” Barbara said, “Anna has company. We’ve interrupted.”

“Nothing to interrupt,” Anna countered briskly, getting to her feet. “Cup of tea? Coffee?”

“Sounds great, I’m gagging for a coffee,” Frank sank into her vacated spot. “That packet stuff they have at the hotel is rubbish.”

Barbara held out a hand to Matt. “I’m sorry,” she said, “my husband has no manners. Fancy not introducing yourself to the man who saved our daughter in law. I am Barbara, and this is Frank.” She waited expectantly.

Anna stopped and turned with a frown, interrupting the introductions. “I’m sorry, did you just say saved?” she asked. Too late she recalled her mother-in-laws fondness for the dramatic.

“Yes, saved. When you fell in a dead faint this kind man carried you to the couch. If he hadn’t been here you’d have been left sprawled inelegantly for all and sundry to see. I certainly couldn’t have moved you.”

“What am I? Chopped liver?”

“No Frank, but you know what the chiropractor said about your back. You’re not allowed to strain it.”

“I’d hardly call Anna a strain, the girl weighs next to nothing, look at her.”

All three of them turned to look at Anna. “I think using the word saved is being a tad over the top,” she said. “And I didn’t faint, I just lost my balance for a moment.”

In the kitchen she refilled the jug, taking the opportunity while her back was to them to grit her teeth and scream silently. She could hear Matt introducing himself. This was the last thing she felt like dealing with. Not only a surprise visit from the very people who reminded her the most of everything that she had lost, but also having to explain to them Matt’s presence.

“How do you know Anna?” Barbara asked as she settled herself on the couch beside her husband.

“We met at a playground,” he told her. “My son took an interest in Anna’s health and, after we made sure she got home ok, her ducks. Now I can’t keep him away. He keeps dragging us back here, I’m sure it won’t be long before she has us trespassed.”

Anna groaned inwardly. Why did he have to mention the playground? She could feel Barbara’s frown from across the room. No doubt she would have something to say on the subject later. Nothing that hadn’t been said before though, and nothing that Anna wanted to hear.

“Is he outside with the ducks?”

“No he’s at school.”

“Are you here to visit the ducks then, or Anna?” Barbara threw a pointed look at Frank, who let it bounce off. It hit the far wall and scuttled off under the sideboard.

Matt raised his eyebrows at the brazenness of the woman. “I heard she was ill so I thought I’d check up on her and see if there was anything she needed.” He turned to Anna. “Is there anything you need?”

“No thank you, I’m fine.”

“Right,” he glanced at his watch. “In that case I’d better get going.” He smiled at Barbara and Frank, “It was lovely to meet you both.”

“I hope you’re not leaving because of us,” said Barbara.

“Of course not. I’d better get to work before they send out a search party.” He took his keys out of his pocket and jangled them as he walked to the front door. Anna followed him, conscious of Barbara’s eyes on her back. At the door there was an awkward moment where neither was sure what to say.

Matt pretended to search his bunch of keys for the right one while he tried to think of something to say. It had been a whim, to come here. He really didn’t know a lot about Anna, and now he’d probably just freaked the hell out of her by turning up unannounced the way he had.

“Thanks for stopping by.” Anna said.

“No problem, glad you’re ok.”

There was another awkward silence.

“I’d better get back to my guests,” Anna broke it, thumbing over her shoulder to where Barbara was not even trying to pretend that she wasn’t listening.

“Of course. Go. I’d better get to work. They might not send out a search party but the firing squad could be an option.”

“Oh no,” Anna was horrified.

“I’m joking.”

“Oh. Of course.”

“Let me know if you need anything. You know, a prescription filled. A bowl of homemade chicken soup. Although I’ll be honest and confess that it would come from a packet. I will heat it for you though. I can manage that.”

“Thank you, it’s a kind offer. But I’ll be fine.”

Now the fun begins, Anna thought after he’d left. She headed back to the kitchen to finish preparing the hot drinks and started an internal countdown. Three, two….

“So,” Barbara said, in a false casual tone, “did I hear Matt say you met in a playground?”

“Yes.”

“Oh Anna,” she said softly, “what are you doing? Why torture yourself so, it’s not healthy. Hasn’t that doctor you see told you that?”

“Leave it Barbara,” Anna warned gently. “I know you mean well but please, leave it. We all grieve in our own ways.”

Barbara refused to back down. “Grieve yes, of course, but to purposely torture yourself? It’s not right. You should have moved on by now.”

Anna had just put the milk back in the fridge and she slammed the door hard. “
Moved on
?” The anger in her voice made the air shimmer.

“I’m sorry,” Barbara backpedalled swiftly. “That was the wrong choice of words.”

“It sure was.” Anna took ten deep breaths. “Because get this straight, I will
never
move on. And if you ever say that to me again you’ll no longer be welcome here.”

The two women held each other’s gaze steadily, neither willing to back down. In the end Frank broke the tension.

“Shall we take our coffees outside and admire Anna’s handiwork?” he said.

“Great idea,” Barbara agreed.

Anna knew it was far from over.

They took their drinks into the garden and admired her handiwork, tension simmering gently although they all played nice. She knew they had the best intentions, but still Anna couldn’t wait for them to leave. No one else dared talk to her the way Barbara did. In Anna’s experience people hoped what happened wouldn’t come up when they engaged in general conversation with her. She could see it in their eyes, a mild look of panic as they wondered; what the hell will I say if she mentions it? They needn’t have worried, she never mentioned it.

But Barbara, well she was a whole other kettle of fish. What happened to Anna had happened to her too, and she took the opposite approach to grieving from Anna in that she was
desperate
to talk about it, to anyone who’d listen, including the boy who pumped gas into her car and the woman who worked behind the meat counter in her local supermarket. If their names weren’t mentioned people might forget they had lived, and there was no way she would allow that. Not while she still had air in her lungs.

The rest of the visit passed uneventfully, apart from when Barbara excused herself to use the bathroom and was upstairs for so long that Frank got nervous and Anna realised with mild annoyance that she was probably snooping. No doubt she would have something to say about the shrine that was the nursery, and the fact that Tim’s shoes still peeped out from under the bed, but if she did she kept it to herself when she eventually returned back downstairs.

The really awkward moment came when she was walking them out and Anna spotted the shirt over the back of a chair about two seconds before Barbara did. Unfortunately this wasn’t enough time to do anything except hope the older woman wouldn’t see it. She put a hand against the small of the older woman’s back and tried to steer her gently past it, but Barbara dug her feet in and resisted.

“Isn’t that- ?” she reached out a hand and fingered the fabric questioningly, letting out a gentle sigh when the feel of it invoked a memory in her fingertips. “I thought so,” she said quietly. “I gave it to him the Christmas before they died. The colour looked so good on him, really brought out the blue in his eyes.” She stroked it as if it were a cat, lost in the past. “What’s it doing here?”

And in the ten seconds it took Anna’s brain to scramble up an answer she knew that Barbara saw right through it before it was even spoken. She said it anyway.

“I wear it sometimes to garden in. Better than wrecking my own clothes.”

But even saying the lie hurt. She could never destroy anything that had belonged to either of them. It would be a dishonour to their memory.

“How long are you in town for?” Anna asked when they were at their car. She tried to make it sound conversational rather than desperate like she felt. How much longer would she need to pretend their presence didn’t hurt her with all the memories it provoked? Surely the fact she never visited them
,
never picked up the phone to call and barely even answered their emails told them all they needed to know? Yes, it was selfish, but she could live with that. Seeing Frank, who had the same sky blue eyes and forceful nose as his son, was too hard. There was a reason they were in her life now that the reason was now gone they seemed determined not to let her slip away too. This was exactly what Anna would have preferred to do.

“Only another couple of days. We need to get back by Saturday to babysit Helen’s kids while she goes to an overnight wedding.”

Helen, Anna’s sister-in law. If the tenuous connection that made you related to someone by ‘law’ became severed cut, were you still related? It wasn’t the first time Anna had wondered.

“How is she?” she asked, only slightly interested in the answer. Helen, formerly a syndicated journalist, was a high flying, opinionated know it all, who thought Anna was ‘without ambition’. She had spent multiple Christmases pestering Anna and trying to draw out ‘just what it is you want to do with your life?
Surely
you can’t be happy working in a bank and being a homemaker?’ the last word dripping with her obvious distaste.

“Oh she’s fine. The baby’s been giving her a bit of grief with teething – damn things keep poking through then popping back down again – and her eldest might be dyslexic the teachers think, but other than that she’s fine. Got voted in head of the PTA last month,” Barbara said proudly. “She has some fantastic fundraising ideas for the school. Just needs to light a firecracker under some of the other parents; honestly, some people are just lazy and lacking when it comes to their own children’s education.”