Sticks and Stones (17 page)

Hannah smiled as they set off down the passage. ‘Little disconcerting, isn't it?'

‘You're not kidding.'

‘It's this one.' Hannah paused before a door near the end and knocked softly, waiting a few moments before opening it. ‘Mum?'

There was a rustling from inside and as Hannah continued to push the door open Maddie suddenly saw her mother, sitting in an armchair by the window. She had a tapestry frame set on a low table before her and a paper bag full of different coloured threads spilt across her lap. She looked happy and well and content and Maddie's heart soared.

‘Hannah, darling.' Maddie's mother smiled welcomingly and then her smile faded as she saw who stood behind her eldest daughter. She blinked and then the smile returned, as if it had never left. ‘Matilda! How lovely.'

‘Mum.' Maddie went forward and bent to kiss her mother's cheek. It was dry and powdery, as paper-thin as an autumn leaf. ‘Mum.'

‘Sit down, sit down,' her mother beamed as she gestured around the room expansively, as if it was full of chairs instead of merely holding the one she was in and a matching armchair on the other side of the table. Hannah waved Maddie towards the spare chair, herself going over to the neatly made bed and leaning back against it, facing them.

‘Mum. How have you been?' Maddie sat forward, drinking her mother in, from her snowy-white hair, now even more sparse, to her hands, which looked like flesh on bone, with folds of skin held in place only by her rings. A half-inch hair, surprisingly dark, sprouted from one side of her chin and Maddie longed to pluck it, knowing her mother would hate that it was there. And that people had noticed.

Her mother was nodding. ‘Oh very good, thank you darling. Very good indeed.'

There was silence for a few moments and then Hannah cleared her throat. ‘Mum, do you want to tell Mattie how you went down to the Moorooduc Coolstores on the weekend? As an excursion?'

‘No,' said Maddie's mother, nodding again.

Hannah caught Maddie's eye and grinned. ‘Okay. Well how about when Charlotte and Nicholas took you out for afternoon tea? I think that was about two weeks ago?'

‘Yes! Lovely baby. He's got Jack's eyes.'

Maddie smiled. ‘Sam and Ashley send their love. And I'll bring them next time.'

‘Who?'

‘Oh, I mean Max and Courtney.' Maddie felt a shaft of pain as her mother continued to frown. ‘Come on, Mum, you remember Max and Courtney. My children. Your
grand
children.'

‘Where do you say they were?'

‘Staying with some friends,' put in Hannah. ‘But they send their love. Remember when you saw them last year? When I took you up to Ballarat?'

Her mother stared at her for a few minutes, as if waiting for Hannah to add something. Then she glanced down at her tapestry and smiled. ‘See this? It's from a Gainsborough painting.
The Blue Boy
it's called. My uncle had a Gainsborough. Tiny little thing it was, my mother used to say the frame was bigger than the picture. He hated that. But Vera was the one who always loved Gainsborough. I'm doing this for her, for Christmas.'

‘I'm sure she'll love it,' said Maddie gently, even though her Aunt Vera had been dead for several years. ‘It's beautiful. And you're doing such a good job.'

‘Cross-stitch.'

‘Yes, I can see.'

Her mother stared at the tapestry and then suddenly looked up and clicked her tongue with surprise. ‘Heaven's above, where are my manners? Would you like a cup of tea, girls?'

‘No thanks, Mum,' said Hannah quickly. ‘We haven't got a huge amount of time. Just thought we'd drop in quickly to say hi. See how you were.'

‘Oh. Good.' She picked up a skein of scarlet thread and trailed the end through her fingers. ‘I don't really need this colour. Unless I put some in the feather on his cap. Do you think I should put some in the feather on his cap?'

‘Sure,' said Maddie. ‘I think that's just what it needs.'

Her mother nodded, pleased with that answer. She held the scarlet against the tapestry, considering. The hair on her chin wafted slightly, a tiny dark line against the powdery fragility of her skin. Minutes slid by smoothly into a silence that felt contented, even peaceful. But after a while Maddie felt tears prick her eyes, with a sudden mourning for what had been irretrievably lost, and she swallowed to regain control. When all she wanted to do, really, was to crawl into her mother's lap to be patted and protected until all was right again. Maddie looked up and realised that her mother was watching her; she stared back, wanting,
needing
, to believe, even for a moment, that there was a meeting of the minds. That her mother understood, just a little.

‘Scarlet's the colour of blood.'

Maddie nodded, her eyes widening. ‘Yes, yes it is.'

‘Then I don't want it,' her mother said decisively. ‘It will make the feather look odd. You have it.' She leant forward and passed the thread over. ‘If you plait it together you can make a hair ribbon for Charlotte.'

Maddie blinked, turning the skein over in her hands. ‘Thanks, Mum. That's lovely.'

‘We'd better get going.' Hannah stood up. ‘Next time we'll stay longer. Okay, Mum?'

‘Yes, yes. Very good.'

Hannah came over and kissed their mother lightly on the cheek, then Maddie followed suit, holding her hand for a moment and feeling the skin slide softly under her fingers, reminding her that the court case was about so much more than where Sam and Ashley would be living. It was also about putting an end to
this
, to everything that she was missing. An end to life going on without her while she existed in some parallel universe that had been born from trauma and, because of that, would always be governed by it.

Later that night, Maddie sat in bed with an unopened book on her lap, thinking again about the visit to her mother. She was staying in Hannah's granny flat, built years before when Charlotte had begun university. To give the girl a facade of independence. It was a compact little flat, built only a stone's throw from the rear of the house, with a bedroom, ensuite and lounge room that contained a small kitchenette at one end. And a lingering smell of disinfectant suggested that it had been cleaned in a hurry, just prior to Maddie's arrival. She suspected that it would also be disinfected soon after she left, judging by the look on Hannah's face when Maddie had set Guess's basket up in the little lounge room.

She was going home the following morning, having done all she could here. They had tried to track down her old neighbour, Hilda, finally discovering from her daughter-in-law that Hilda and her husband Ernst were in Vienna for three months, visiting relatives. She had taken Maddie's phone number though, and promised to pass it on as soon as possible.

Afterwards, Hannah had declared it was time for some retail therapy and had taken her sister off to the huge shopping centre in nearby Wantirna. And Maddie had been thoroughly surprised by how much she had enjoyed herself amongst the glass and chrome and bustling shoppers. She bought a computer game for Sam, and a pewter
Twilight
key ring for Ashley, together with a set of stickers of each of the characters. Then Hannah had insisted on buying her an early Christmas present, dragging Maddie from boutique to boutique until she found what she was looking for. An outfit guaranteed to bring success on Tuesday. They finished up with a simple but elegant suit. A pair of tailored black pants and a waisted sage jacket, made from thin silky material, with wide lapels and large padded buttons. Then, over coffee, they had a mild argument about the money situation, with Hannah so adamant about making her a loan that Maddie eventually promised she'd think about it. Knowing already that she had little choice. And knowing that Hannah knew this also. That what was happening was just an elaborate ritual, necessary only to salvage Maddie's pride.

Maddie pushed the book off her lap and leant back against the pillows, wondering suddenly what Sam and Ashley were doing right at this very moment. Were they getting along with Natalie, or were they finding it difficult to deal with knowing their father had moved on like this? And she wondered how much they knew about the impending court case, or whether they knew anything at all. She had tried to ring Sam several times, just wanting to hear his voice. But it seemed his phone had finally run out of charge and, as his charger was sitting in his bedroom at home, her contact had finally been cut off.

She glanced over to where the suit hung on the wardrobe door, sheathed in plastic, and saw herself striding into court on Tuesday with competent Diana by her side, keeping her eyes ahead and not allowing herself to acknowledge Jake any more than was strictly necessary. Speaking the truth in a clear, concise voice and then enjoying the simple pragmatism of justice. Afterwards she would allow herself to be magnanimous with the access arrangements, the objective being conciliatory compromise from a position of strength. But beforehand, no, she would keep sympathy well at bay. Because that was a dangerous door to open.

Despite everything, and rather to her amazement, Maddie felt good. Apprehensive, but good. The whole day, with Hannah, Diana, the suit, had combined to give her a much-needed injection of confidence, both in herself and in the system. And if someone had given her a choice, right then, between going back to the way things had been, pre-discovery, or continuing onward from where she now was, she knew she would have chosen the latter. Without hesitation. Because despite the almost constant flutter of unease within, she was finally beginning to accept that this confrontation had been both necessary and inevitable, and to move forward she simply had to get it over and done with. Once and for all.

TWELVE

M
addie had been expecting something rather imposing, perhaps with grand columns like her mother's retirement home or surrounded by marbled, pigeon-splattered statues of historical personages. And she had pictured throngs of busy people coming and going with flapping coats and overloaded briefcases. Discussing cases, greeting colleagues, and maybe even holding impromptu media conferences. But in fact the courthouse was quite ordinary, just a two-storey red brick building with
Commonwealth Law Courts
printed in an unobtrusive gold. Set in an area that was geared more towards the struggling than the affluent. And almost deserted, with just one woman, dressed in jeans and a T-shirt, leaning against the railing smoking a cigarette.

‘Hmm, rather underwhelming,' said Hannah, following her sister's gaze. ‘Hope my car doesn't get pinched.'

Maddie smiled, treating the comment as rhetorical. She herself felt blessed by the building's ordinariness, less out of her depth. ‘Underwhelming is exactly what I need right now, thanks.'

‘Better that than over, I suppose.'

‘True. But if you can get
under
whelmed or
over
whelmed, then can you just get whelmed?'

Hannah frowned at her. ‘You need to stay focused, Maddie. Now's not the time to go silly.'

‘I prefer to call it philosophical,' replied Maddie, stretching her smile into a grin. ‘Okay then, come on. Let's do this.'

They headed over the road towards the building, walking up the steps and past the smoking woman who stared into the distance as if philosophical herself. Just inside the doorway was an elaborate scanner, attended by a uniform-clad guard. Maddie and Hannah passed through into a large waiting room, with an information desk in one corner and a wide wooden staircase opposite. With Diana's instructions in mind, they both took the stairs.

Hannah checked her watch. ‘We're a bit early. About fifteen minutes.'

‘Good.' Maddie already knew she needed that time to assimilate. To minimise surprises.

Upstairs was another large room, but this one had a number of mid-level dividers so that most of the vinyl chairs and square-cushioned couches were in alcoves, granting users a scattered privacy. Thinly striped carpet, in shades of dull blue, gave an impression of order that was reinforced by the overt neatness, while around the circumference was a series of doors, each with a huge silver number and a
COURT IN SESSION
light box that was currently turned off. The only exception was one with a banner that announced a
Family Relationship
Centre
was located within. A few small meeting rooms, as well as a drinks machine and a coffee bar, were nearby.

And here, already, were the black-clad, briefcase-toting legal people that Maddie had expected to see outside. With polystyrene cups of coffee in hand, deep in discussion with each other or with clients or checking the court lists that were taped to each door. Every so often one would announce a client's name loudly and gaze around, waiting for acknowledgement. Maddie and Hannah did a quick circuit of the room, just in case Diana was already there, and then found a couch by the stairs. With her nerves steadily returning, Maddie suddenly pictured the lawyers as rows of voracious little Pacmen, relentlessly moving forward and devouring her confidence, hollowing out her stomach. No wonder she felt nauseous. Chomp, chomp, chomp.

‘What are you smiling at?'

Maddie wiped the smile from her face, feeling silly. She shrugged. ‘Nothing much. Just looking forward to seeing them.'

‘I can imagine.' Hannah nodded and then suddenly frowned. ‘Hey, you don't think he'll be bringing them today, do you?'

‘Oh, no. Not a chance. He wouldn't risk it. I meant afterwards, after all this.'

Two more lawyers came up the steps, followed by a client. Maddie marvelled at how easy it was to differentiate. With the legal fraternity there was almost a uniform drabness, relieved only by the occasional splash of colour on a tie or a woman's shirt. And their clothing was like a second skin, worn with casual artlessness, while even those clients who had dressed up seemed stiff, overly deliberate. Or maybe it was just their nerves. Chomp, chomp, chomp.