Paper Chains (17 page)

Forty minutes later, Liam winced as the car entered the Lane Cove tunnel. ‘Uh oh,’ he whispered under his breath. On cue, Gracie started wailing. ‘I don’t like it in here. I want to get out of here. Daddy? Daddy! I want to get out of this tunnel.’ He wasn’t sure when or where she had developed this intense dislike of driving through tunnels, and he wondered briefly if this was something brand new that Hannah had never even experienced with her. The thought made him angry. She shouldn’t be missing out on any of this stuff.

‘S’all right, Gracie, we’ll be out in the sunshine again in a sec. Okay?’

‘Daddy?’

‘Yeah, hon?’

‘Please can we get out of this tunnel?’

Liam sighed. ‘Sure thing, Grace, we’ll be out any minute now.’

‘Yes, but I said please. So can we please get out of here NOW?’

‘Ahh, yes, my mistake, I forgot that you’d said please. All right, Gracie. Hold on, let me just see if I can process that request for you, it’ll just be one minute, okay?’

There was a pause and then Gracie said politely, ‘Okay. Thank you, Daddy.’ Liam glanced in the rear-view mirror and smiled. A moment later the car glided out into the sunlight and Gracie applauded from the back seat. ‘Oh, well
done
, Daddy!’

‘Daddy,’ Gracie added suddenly.

‘Yep?’

‘When we get to the party, will we see Mummy there?’

Liam felt a thud deep in his gut and his hand flew up from the steering wheel to pinch the bridge of his nose. He had to cough wheezily before he could respond. ‘I really wish I could say yes, baby, but no. We won’t see Mummy there. But hopefully soon, okay?’

‘Please can we see Mummy there?’

‘What about this – we’ll see all your friends. That’ll be nice, won’t it?’

‘But I said
please
,’ Gracie wailed.

‘All right, Grace. Here’s what I’ll do, I’ll process your request, okay? But it’s going to take a little while. Lots of paperwork, red tape, you know? Might have to get a few interns on the case, approval from some higher-ups – that’ll take time. But I’m going to get right to work on it, okay?’

There was silence from the back seat. Gracie seemed to be carefully considering what her father had said. Eventually she responded. ‘Right,’ she said firmly. Then, after another pause, ‘Good luck, Daddy.’

Liam raised his eyebrows in surprise at the grown-up statement. Then he laughed. ‘Thanks, honey, I’m gonna need it. Hey look, you see that?’ he added then, pointing out through the front windscreen. ‘That’s the city skyline up ahead, means we’re nearly there.’

CHAPTER TWELVE

Hannah was walking briskly up a steep hill.
What now, Hannah? What now?
Coming back to Sydney had been stupid. Of course Liam had moved on. Of course she was going to run into someone she knew; it had just been a matter of time, hadn’t it? Still, did it have to be so quick – on both accounts? She sneezed, and then she sneezed again – five times in a row.
Great, probably going to get sick cause I got caught in that storm. Maybe I’ll get lucky, maybe I will get pneumonia. Maybe I’ll be so sick that I’ll end up in hospital with it. All weak and pale, but beautiful, still beautiful of course. And then . . . maybe Liam will come. Would that be enough? Enough for him to want to forgive me? If I was near death?

But that’s not what’s going to happen. Instead I’ll just get a normal common cold. The tip of my nose will go all red and flaky. I’ll have a hacking cough and a sweaty fever and there’ll be no one to look after me and I’ll be miserable and unattractive (because of the red nose) and I’ll wish for someone to rub Vicks on my chest and make soup for me and it won’t happen because I won’t deserve it. Oh hell, Hannah, what have you gone and done with your life?

She had walked all the way through the back streets of Mosman and had found her way up to Military Road now. She spotted a city bus and ran for the stop up ahead, then flung her arm out to flag it down.

‘Just made it, uh?’ chuckled the bus driver as she hopped on.

‘Looks like it.’

‘Lucky you weren’t out there trying to catch a bus about an hour ago. HUGE storm, should have seen it. Wouldn’t have wanted to get caught in that. Most of my passengers looked like drowned rats. Ha!’ The driver grinned at her as she handed over money for the fare and then continued to chat as she took a seat near the front.

‘Day seems to be coming good now, though. Bit of sunshine peeking through over there. Doesn’t feel much like winter’s coming at the moment, eh?’

‘Guess not.’

‘You a local, love?’

The personal question took Hannah by surprise. ‘You mean the North Shore?’

‘Nah, I mean are you a Sydney girl? Or a traveller. Saw you had that big backpack. But no accent. I mean, no foreign accent. You sound Aussie, you from another state?’

Hannah shifted uncomfortably in her seat. She had thought catching a bus instead of a taxi would mean no questions. No awkward conversations. Why hadn’t she taken a seat further up the back?

‘Um, I’m from Sydney actually.’ And she looked pointedly out the window, hoping he might stop questioning her. Instead he turned to look at her, dangerously taking his eyes off the slowing traffic up ahead.

‘Huh. So what’s with the luggage then?’

Hannah attempted to curb the irritation from creeping into her voice as she responded. ‘Been overseas,’ she said.

‘Oh yeah? Where’d you go? Never left the country meself. Always wanted to travel, though. Those pyramids, they must be something, right? Did’ya see the pyramids over there? And the Statue of Liberty, that’s another one I’d like to set my eyes on. What about her? You see her on your travels?’

‘Nope. Neither. Went to England.’

‘Ah! England! The mother country. I’ve got English heritage, that and a bit of Maltese actually. Don’t look it though, do I?’

Before she could stop herself, Hannah blurted out, ‘My husband’s Maltese.’

‘Really? What’s the surname? Never know, could be that we’re related, right?’ And he chuckled again.

‘Privitelli.’

The driver frowned and rubbed his chin thoughtfully. Eventually he said, ‘Nah, don’t know any Privitellis. Sure it’s a good name though. So where’s your husband then? Didn’t he go overseas with you?’

Hannah kicked herself for having mentioned Liam at all. How was she supposed to answer this?

In the end she settled for a simple ‘No.’

‘Why’s that?’

Jesus!

‘It’s complicated.’

‘Ahhh. Having problems, are you? I’ll tell you something, love, and I’ll give you this advice for free. If a marriage is worth saving, you’ll know. My wife and me, we went through some problems. Divorced, fifteen years ago now. Shouldn’t have given up so easily though. And that was my fault, I accept that. I didn’t work at it hard enough, you know what I mean? You see, everyone has their ups and downs. I should have realised that. Shouldn’t have expected it to all be highs. You gotta take the bad with the good, right? So whatever it is, you have a good long think about it, see if it might be something you can work at. Someone’s gotta take the first step, see? So what is it anyway? You fight over money? Kids? You want them, he doesn’t? Sex? Lota people fight over sex, don’t know why – such a simple act – but it causes big problems.’

Hannah stood up abruptly. ‘Actually, this is my stop up here.’

‘Oh. Really?’ The driver looked disappointed. ‘Well, nice chat, love. You take care, all right?’

As the bus pulled up at the stop, and Hannah made to step down the stairs, he shot an arm out to stop her. ‘Hey, let me tell you one more thing. My wife and I, we got back together, had a second wedding and all. Another big white dress even. Been married five years this time round. Working things out – best thing that ever happened to me. So just keep that in mind, eh? Never know how things might work out in the end, even if it seems bleak now.’

Hannah nodded and gave him a tiny smile as she stepped down onto the street.
That was different. I think I just got the friendliest bus driver in the bloody world.

She looked up as the bus pulled away from the curb and tried to get her bearings. Thanks to the all-consuming conversation with the driver, she hadn’t paid any attention to where she had hopped off. As she spun around on the spot, looking for something familiar, her eyes caught sight of a splash of colour. It took a moment for her brain to catch up and then her vision blurred and her stomach heaved. It was the giant smiling face of Luna Park. She was just down the street from Milsons Point train station.

‘Isn’t he just exquisite?’ gushed the woman at the fairy-floss stand. Liam smiled politely and shifted Ethan from one arm to the other. ‘Exquisite, yes – but also surprisingly heavy for his age.’

He was hoping she might take the hint and move things along; he wanted to go and sit down, take a breather for a few minutes before it was time to rejoin the party. He had been proud of how he had managed to successfully extricate himself from the main group. Once they’d arrived Gracie had forgotten all about her fears of being there without her dad and had raced off to join her friends. There were no other dads accompanying their children, just mums – mums intent on telling him how he should be dealing with Gracie’s tantrums, when he should be starting Ethan on solids, what sort of sleep patterns he should be enforcing and all sorts of other shit that he had no interest in whatsoever. As far as he was concerned, he was doing just fine with his kids so far. When he’d mentioned finding somewhere quiet on his own to give Ethan his bottle, Dee had been quick to offer him her company, but he’d been able to decline, even if it had taken a fair bit of force.

The fairy-floss woman missed Liam’s subtle hints and continued to coo at Ethan. ‘He’s got your eyes, you know. Adorable.’

Liam’s smile became a little fixed as he restrained himself from correcting her.
Actually, you twit, they’re his mum’s eyes; anyone can see they don’t look anything
like
mine.

Liam walked away feeling agitated. He was quite close to the spot where he’d first laid eyes on Hannah. He still remembered that moment quite clearly. Remembered spotting her walking away from the roller coaster, recalled how what he’d first noticed about her was her eyes. Oh okay, so that was bullshit; what he noticed first were her great breasts – perky, round, just the right amount of cleavage showing to get him feeling quite aroused. But then he’d looked up and noticed her eyes. It was the cheeky spark that attracted him. That’s what caused him to be so bold when he’d approached her. He had the sense that a normal pick-up line wasn’t going to work on this girl. Instead he’d just stepped right up to her, acting like they were friends who had planned to meet rather than complete strangers. And she’d made that crack about how he ought to have picked up that paper cup and he’d immediately thought,
This is going to be fun.

So then how had it all gone so wrong?

Hannah walked steadily towards the train station, her shoulders aching from the weight of the backpack.
So, Hannah, what happens when you reach the station? Going to get on a train, or going to step in front of a train? Seems like such a small difference, doesn’t it? Step on, step in front. On, or in front? On. In front.

On. In front
. Her brain was filled with those three words, just tumbling around, piling on top of one another; over and over and over they asked her,
On? In front?

At the station she bought a ticket. So that seemed like a good sign. She hadn’t been here to this station since her mother had taken her own life. And now as she walked slowly down the platform, she found herself wondering what her mother had been thinking when she had come here. Whether she herself was now walking the exact same path as her mother. She took notice of her surroundings carefully. She saw the sparkle of the sunlight glinting on the specks in the concrete. Noticed the grime of grease on the tracks. Felt the air pressing against her skin. Felt pressure on her lungs. Tightening around her throat. Where had she stepped off the platform? Was it here, by the staircase? Was it over there, near the ticket booth? Did her blood splatter up from the tracks, onto the concrete of the platform? And how well would they have cleaned it? Would they have scrubbed at it with bleach until all remnants of her mother were gone? Or could there still be faint traces of her?

Did she know when she came here? Was it a plan? Or was it a spontaneous decision? Most people thought spontaneity was a good thing.

In the distance she heard the sound of a train approaching. And she wondered about that old saying and how true it really was:
Like mother like daughter.

Liam found a bench seat and sat down to give Ethan his bottle. After a few minutes of trying to figure out if he could feed Ethan and also eat the fairy floss he’d just bought at the same time, he gave up and rested the pink and yellow cloud of spun sugar on top of the stroller instead. He watched Ethan’s eyes follow the colourful shape of the fairy floss as it passed over him. ‘Nope,’ Liam said quietly, ‘I might be a man and according to all these preschool mums, therefore incapable of looking after my baby son – but one thing I do know is that you don’t give fairy floss to a newborn. Sorry, kid.’

But then Ethan’s eyes caught sight of his bottle of milk and he practically dived on the teat. Liam leaned back on the seat as Ethan fed and watched the groups of people pass by. It was a different sort of crowd from when he’d first met Hannah here eight years ago. A lot more families and young children – or maybe he was the one who had changed and he had just started noticing the family types more. He spotted a young couple who he guessed might have been on a first date – or at least in the very early stages of their relationship. The guy was trying to win her one of those giant stuffed toys by tossing rings across a water canal and attempting to land them around old style milk bottles. Each time he missed the red flush on his neck would creep a little higher. Liam was feeling bad for the guy, but then the girl stepped in close, grabbed him by the shirt and kissed him, hard. Even if the guy couldn’t see it, as far as Liam was concerned, the message was clear – that girl didn’t give a crap about some stuffed toy, all she wanted was him.