Lessons From Ducks (22 page)

When she woke, after a lengthy surgery where they put a pin in her ankle and stitched up her leg from ankle to knee, her son was gone. And she told the nurse in the recovery room that they should have cut out her heart, because she wouldn’t need it anymore.

Chapter twenty nine

The feeling of contentment that she had felt that day at the bank was hit and miss, and she still woke more nights than not, but she was ok with that. In fact, she preferred it, it was familiar.

Buddy would be waiting at the door when she came downstairs in the morning to be let out, jumping from foot to foot and quacking furiously. The others would be waiting as usual on the other side of the door but after a few days they learnt to stand to one side unless they wanted to be bowled over by a large uncoordinated duckling going twenty miles an hour.

She started back at work with very little fanfare, although the girls had bought her a cupcake and a card with a cross looking cat on the front and the slogan, ‘Don’t let the bastards get you down!’ Everything was the same, but different. HR supplied her with a new set of uniforms, accepting her story that she’d mailed the old one back and it must have been misplaced by the notorious postal system. The lunchroom still smelt the same, a combination of microwaved curries and old, unidentified food lurking in the depths of the fridge that no one laid claim too and everyone else was too lazy to throw out.

The first week back, Anna surprised herself by managing to be on time every morning. It wasn’t too great a struggle, merely requiring a greater level of organisation and time keeping and less dilly dallying and pausing to smell the flowers. But where was the fun in that?  She resented it with a passion. Arriving at work she would pause to suck in a lungful of the beautiful warm fresh air, before heading glumly through the doors into the recycled air conditioning.

At night, she went home to her quiet house and stood for far too long perusing the contents of her fridge in the carnivorous silence of her house. She messed the house, tidied the house, fed the ducks, showered and slept -or not slept - just the same as she had been doing for the past few years. She felt as if she were merely watching seconds pass on the clock of her life.

Everything was exactly as it should be, how it had been for some time and how she wanted it to be, yet the thought of going home now to an empty house and another endless night of meals for one, some bad TV and sleeplessness left her feeling cold.

The one bright point was Oscar’s visits. Matt and the boy’s mother had a fairly flexible custody arrangement, but the bones of it were that he spent week on week off with each parent. The first week Anna was back at the coalface, he was with his mother, and Anna rattled around the house talking to herself and taking her loneliness out on Buddy until even he was sick of the sound of her.

“Did I tell you about my day?” she would ask him.

‘QUACK’

And then he’d waddle off in pursuit of his reflection in the shiny surfaces of the house, as was his latest obsession. Anna took this to mean ‘No, and don’t feel you need to either,’ which she thought was pretty rude when she considered all that she did for him. She could even hear the hum of the TV when it was on standby, such was the lack of other noise.

Five o’clock Friday, exhausted from pretending she cared which superannuation scheme someone picked or helping sort out budgets for people who were, frankly, either too stupid or too reckless to sort it out for themselves. In the past she’d been capable of mustering up the correct amount of concern, empathy and professionalism. But now all she could think was; is this it? Just as she was contemplating shoving a pencil in her ear, anything to escape the monotony of the humdrum around her, Matt came into the bank and asked her if she’d mind if Oscar hung out with her for a few hours the next day, as the warm weather meant he was behind on his work and would have to work Saturday. Although they’d seen each other twice since the cemetery, Matt hadn’t mentioned it and therefore neither had she. She assumed he wasn’t interested and this came as a relief. It was refreshing to be able to talk to someone who knew nothing about her past.

“Of course,” she said, pleased he’d thought of her.

“Are you sure? You don’t have anything else on?”

Anna pretended to consult her online diary, although she knew without a doubt she had nothing more exciting planned than cleaning the bathroom and shovelling over the compost pile. “Nothing that can’t be rescheduled,” she said.

Saturday morning she was up with the dawn as usual, and she got on with cleaning out the bathroom and turning over the compost so it was out of the way. When she finished she could feel a line of sweat trickle down between her shoulder blades and thought of the cool temptress that was the river. This gave her an idea.

She biked to the supermarket and bought a slapstick picnic dinner; French bread sticks, cheeses, cold deli meats and a couple of containers of salads (coleslaw and an Italian pasta, she kept a wary eye on the stickers to make sure they stayed attached until she was through the checkouts). Back at home she found her old picnic basket in the bottom of the linen cupboard and added some paper napkins. While getting the basket from the cupboard she noticed a box of solar powered fairy lights. It made her melancholy for a moment, as she recalled buying them with Tim one day with the intention of using them for a BBQ at Ben’s first Christmas, the one he didn’t live long enough to see. She paused, fingers lightly tracing the letters on the box. The thought of all the missed Christmases and birthdays was devastating. She would never see his excited face when he saw the presents under the tree for the first time. So many things he never got to experience. It broke her heart.

Just after lunch there was a knock on the door and she opened it to see Matt and Oscar.

“How’s Buddy?” were the first words out of Oscars mouth.

“And hello to you too,” she said, “come in and see for yourself.”

He didn’t need the incitation though and was already half way into the lounge.

“Sorry about that, he gets his manners from his mother. Are you sure this is ok? Matt asked.

“Yes of course.”

“Great. Thank you, I really appreciate it. Normally I’d farm him out to my brother but between you and me –” he leant forward to peer into the house to make sure Oscar wasn’t listening, “ – he’s not a fan. My brothers four boys are rough little buggers and all they want to do is wrestle all day. I don’t know if you’ve noticed but Oscar is more of a thinker. Poor boy ends up somewhere on the bottom of the pile every time.”

“That’s horrible.”

“Oh they’re just boys being boys, but I have to trick Oscar into going there. He’s not very happy when I do that though.”

“I don’t blame him.”

“No I guess I can’t either. Anyway, thanks again, you know for looking after him. He’s really missed Buddy; nagged me solid on the phone each night to bring him here this weekend.”

“Buddy has missed him too.”

Matt checked his watch. “I better get to it, I’ll be back around four, five at the latest. That ok?”

“Yes it’s fine. Would the two of you would like to stay for dinner.”

“Let me just check my calendar,” Matt frowned as he pretended to think about it just as she had the day before. “Nope, calendar’s clear,” he grinned. “Dinner sounds good. Need me to pick anything up?”

“No it’s all sorted.”

“Great. See you in a few hours.” He leant around Anna again. “See you soon,” he called to Oscar. “You be good or else.”

“Yes dad,” Oscar rolled his eyes.

“Or else what?” Anna asked.

“Dunno. He’s never pushed me enough to find out.”

Buddy and Oscar played happily on the lounge floor while Anna floated around, dusting and tidying. At one point they went out into the garden with the other ducks and Anna felt a tiny pang of jealousy at the connection he had with them, but it was only tiny. Around three she remembered the solar lights and fetched them from the cupboard.

“I just need to go and do something,” she called to Oscar, “will you two be ok on your own for a few minutes?”

“I’m eight, not five,” said Oscar. “We’ll be fine.”

Anna stopped by the garden shed to collect a couple of old wooden crates and some empty jars she knew were lingering in the back under a heavy layer of cobwebs, and then made her way – closing the gate firmly behind her which was no easy task considering the load she was carrying – to the river. Near the bank grew a pink Manuka tree, its small blossoms littering the air like confetti.

Standing on one of the crates Anna wove the fairy lights around the lowest branches. It was a box of 500, so this took some time. Then she shook out the blanket and placed it on the flattest piece of ground underneath the tree and put the crates on opposite corners to stop it from blowing away in the wind. Lastly, she placed the jars around the base of the tree. Satisfied, she went back to the house where she found Oscar and Buddy in exactly the same place she had left them.

“See?” Oscar said. “We’re still alive. The house hasn’t caught fire. I didn’t open the door to any strangers.”

“Well that’s good. I appreciate that.”

When Matt turned up at just after five Anna was all prepared and ready to go.

“Phew that’s some heat out there,” he exhaled as he came in. “Do you mind if I have a quick splash before dinner?”

“Splash?”

“You know, a shower. The grass sticks everywhere, I don’t want to dirty your sofa or chairs.”

“I have a better idea.” She threw Tim’s shorts and two towels at him. It was the same pair he’d borrowed the last time they’d been swimming. He caught them and gave her a quizzical glance.

“We’re going swimming? Now?”

“Yes, unless you don’t want to -?”

“No, a swim sounds good. But what about dinner? I know I’m fairly lax but I should probably feed the boy something.”

He sniffed the air. There was a distinct lack of cooking smells.

“I have something special planned,” she said.

“Something special, really.” He winked at her.

Anna realised he had the wrong idea. “Not that kind of special
.
Just something a little different that I thought Oscar might enjoy.”

“So,
not
a date then.”

“A date? Of course not.”

He sighed. “Can’t blame a guy for trying.”

Anna fetched the cold foods from the fridge and added them to the basket. “Let’s go.”

“Can Buddy come?” Oscar asked.

“No not tonight, he’s still a little young to be venturing far from home.”

As she led the way through the gate and the paddocks to the river, the three of them were caressed by the gentlest breeze. For Anna, it invoked a deep feeling of satisfaction, a sense of earthiness and grounding in the here and now, and she soaked up the pleasure that was the present moment. She turned her face skywards and the breeze traced its fingers across her cheek and her lips parted with the pleasure. It was the one thing she missed the most from her former life.

Touch.

Until it was gone she took it for granted. Cuddles from her husband, his lips on her cheek on his way out the door. His hand placed gently in the curve of her back as they walked somewhere, their fingers laced together as they stood and watched their baby sleep. The feel of his chest against her as they made love, his lips on her neck, murmuring in her ear, nibbling at her bottom lip.

She missed the touch of her son. His head against her chin as she rocked him. The way he used to hold one of her fingers firmly in his hot little grasp while she fed him, his lips on her breast. She missed the reassuring weight of him in the crook of her arm. He was a hefty little sod, all rolls and chubby deliciousness.

She couldn’t remember the last time she had touched someone. Apart from shaking hands of course, but that hardly counted.

“Here we are,” she said, placing the basket on the ground and waiting expectantly for them admire her handiwork.

“Is this where you disappeared to before?” Oscar asked, taking in the little picnic area Anna had set up.

“Yes.”

“Cool.”

It would do. “Do you want a swim before or after you eat?”

Oscar looked at his dad, who shrugged, “Before, I guess. Isn’t there some rule against swimming within an hour of eating?”

“Hm yes that does ring a bell. Well you two jump in. I’ll join you in a second.”

Matt, grinning, moved behind the tree to change into the swimming shorts. He remerged a minute later and called to his son, “Last one in does the dishes!” before performing a perfectly good bomb off the bank into the waters below.

“Hey that’s not fair you had a head start!” Oscar complained before joining him at a more sedate pace.

Anna unpacked the food and eating paraphernalia from the basket and set it up in the middle of the blanket from where they could all help themselves. Then she joined them in the water. She floated on her back and admired the twilight sky, wishing on the first star that twinkled into existence just like her mother always had. Even with her ears under the water’s surface she could hear the muffled laughs from the other two as they set about building, then knocking down, another stone dam.

“Time to get out,” she called when the water started to cool down.

“Do we have too?” Matt moaned. “The water feels so good.”

“No you don’t have to. You can stay in if you like. Of course the eels will be out cruising for their dinner soon,” she added casually as she towelled herself off.