Sticks and Stones (32 page)

‘You,' said Sam without hesitation. ‘Here.'

Ashley looked stricken. ‘But I don't want to make Daddy mad. I hate it when he's mad.'

‘This question isn't about your dad, Ash honey, or even about me.' Maddie put her hand over Ashley's, squeezing it. ‘It's about what
you
want. We can discuss the rest later.'

‘Then I want to live here too.' Ashley spoke in a low voice, as if keeping it quiet made it less real. ‘But I want to go to Dad's on weekends.' She threw a quick glance at her brother. ‘With Sam.'

Relief exploded within Maddie like fireworks, surges of multicoloured joy greeting each affirmation from her children. They both wanted to be with her. Despite Seaworld and Foxtel and iPhones and everything else. Not him,
her
.

‘Yeah, maybe some weekends here and there,' said Sam. He picked up his hot chocolate and blew on it, sending a little plume of steam spiralling away. ‘Not every single one though.'

Maddie pushed her joy aside, curiosity flooding in its wake. ‘What changed? I mean, a couple of weeks ago it seemed like you didn't want to come home. Now you don't want to leave.'

Sam took a sip of his drink and then shrugged. ‘I thought he'd changed.'

‘And he hasn't?'

‘No.'

‘In what way?' prompted Maddie.

Guess came over and pushed his head onto Sam's lap, getting a scratch for his efforts. After a moment or so, Sam pulled the dog's head up so that he was facing him, jowls squished upwards so that it looked like he had a huge clown smile. Instead of grinning back, Sam let the dog go, smoothing down his fur gently. Finally he glanced over and shrugged again. ‘Dunno.'

‘I don't like it after school,' put in Ashley suddenly. ‘Coz Dad doesn't get back from work till really late so we have to get our own tea, or Natalie does it if she's there.'

Maddie frowned. ‘I thought he was working from home?'

‘Nah, he works in the city,' Ashley grimaced. ‘That's why that Natalie had to drive us over tonight. And I don't like her either. She calls Dad “sugarpie” and sits on his lap and all. And I hate her hair.'

‘Really? What's the problem?'

‘She does that messy thing. It looks stupid.'

‘No, I mean why don't you like her? Is she not nice to you?'

‘She's all right,' said Sam, giving his sister an irritated look. ‘Quite okay really. Can I have another piece of cake?'

‘They argue a lot.' Ashley looked sidelong at Maddie. ‘Dad and her.'

‘About what?'

‘You,' replied Ashley immediately, still watching her mother. ‘And Dad living up here.'

Sam snorted. ‘Like that'll last anyway.'

‘What do you mean?'

‘He hates it here.' Sam picked up a slice of cake and hefted it over to his plate, leaving a trail of chocolate crumbs across the table. ‘Calls it the back of beyond. And I heard him tell Natalie that it won't be for long anyway. He said by next May at the latest he'll be back in Mont Gully fulltime. With us.'

‘What about school?' asked Ashley, clearly astounded by this news.

‘It'd be a new school of course, stupid.'

‘Then I'm definitely not going.' Ashley folded her arms across her chest and shook her head emphatically, ponytail swinging. ‘I'm not leaving my friends. No way, José.'

Maddie filtered this news through slowly. She was washed by a mix of emotions, all flooding upwards so quickly that she felt giddy, much like Ryan had earlier. She unpacked each of the emotions, laying them flat to better understand. There was anger that he could be so deceptive, and so far in advance, but there was also relief, huge swathes of it, because this meant that he would not be living up here forever. But underlying everything else was a strong sense of triumph that was rather heady in itself. Because all she had to do was look at the expressions on her children's faces to know that this, for Jake, had been a tactical error. Which was not only proof that his egotism was his biggest weakness, but slotted neatly into her rapidly burgeoning optimism. Like a jigsaw that had once been a jumble of impossible pieces but was now coming together, sometimes without her having to do anything but wait. And have patience.

TWENTY

‘S
o he's being served tomorrow?'

Maddie nodded with smug satisfaction. She looked around, loving their reaction.

‘That is
fantastic
,' said Fiona. ‘Well done.'

Jenny gave a clap. ‘And so quickly! You haven't wasted any time at all!'

‘Well, I've mainly got you to thank for that,' Maddie smiled at Jenny. ‘Putting me on to that legal centre. The lawyer I ended up with is a real dynamo.'

‘Let's just hope she's a dynamo in the court as well then,' commented Fiona pragmatically. ‘And not just with the paperwork.'

Lyn was looking at Maddie with her head on one side, pensively. ‘Um, do you think there'll be any fallout? Like will this set him off or anything?'

Fiona snorted. ‘Tough.'

‘No, that's a fair enough question.' Jenny turned to Maddie with a slight frown. ‘I mean, you need to be prepared, just in case.'

‘I am. For starters that's why we rushed this part along, so that he could be served Friday evening, after the kids came to me.' Maddie was still smiling, relishing the notion of being one step ahead. ‘We're going down to my sister's for the weekend so that gives him two whole days to get used to everything before we come back.'

‘And then?' asked Jenny, still frowning.

‘Look, there
will
be punishment,' said Maddie, her smile finally fading. ‘Of that I have no doubt. Most probably with regards to my contact with the kids from after this weekend up until the court date. But the point was to try and blunt it as much as possible, especially with the initial shock, while still staying true to the current orders. It's all I can do.'

Fiona looked at her thoughtfully. ‘You know what really gets me? The difference between you today and two weeks ago, when we saw you last. It's quite amazing.'

‘Now see, here was I thinking the same thing,' Jenny started laughing. ‘But I wasn't going to say so in case you took it the wrong way.'

Maddie shook her head. ‘I wouldn't do that. Because I know exactly what you mean. It's like . . .' She searched for an analogy. ‘This is going to sound a bit twee, but it's sort of like being in a dark room, stumbling around. With the darkness feeding on itself. And then suddenly you find a torch so you flick it on and then you see that there's a candle over there, and a lamp over here, and maybe matches right in front of you.'

‘So now you can see what you're doing,' finished Jenny, nodding slowly.

‘Exactly. And you guys were one of those lights, so thank you.'

‘Bags me be the lamp,' said Fiona immediately. ‘Preferably one of those Tiffany ones.'

‘No, I can see you more as a Florence Nightingale,' said Jenny. ‘With one of those old-fashioned hand-held things.'

Lyn laughed. ‘Yeah, so that every time a patient misbehaves, she'd bonk him on the head.'

‘No, I mean it,' said Maddie, wanting to make this point. ‘And I really appreciate the way you've accommodated me like this.'

‘You do realise we're just being selfish,' Fiona leant back in the couch. ‘We're pretty sick of each other by now, so you're new blood. And we can't afford to lose you.'

‘New blood?' Jenny frowned. ‘Couldn't you think of something that
didn't
make us sound like vampires?'

Maddie smiled contentedly, enjoying the camaraderie. Even though she was tense about tomorrow, and the inevitable repercussions, a sense of pride and anticipation and looming victory was uppermost. And a simple desire to just get it over and done with. All these had given her the fuel to motor through the week, factoring in every eventuality, planning contingencies, staying one step ahead.

The weekend had gone wonderfully. In some ways it was like the kids had never left, so easily had they all slipped back into their accustomed roles. Except that Maddie was always conscious, just in the background, of the need to keep them content. And she wondered, once or twice when she let herself, how that would work in the long term. On Saturday they drove down to Hannah's house for the day, the first time Sam and Ashley had visited for six years. They had a big family lunch at a nearby restaurant, where Nicholas and Charlotte had arrived not just with their baby but also with Maddie's mother, pale and powdered and rather confused. Hannah had pulled out all stops, having the kitchen deliver a mini croquembouche for dessert crowned by sparklers exploding with crackly silver stars, followed by a series of toasts. All of them with one underlying theme – a welcome home that would soon be permanent.

On Sunday she had delivered the children to Silver's Creek right on time, determined to take the high road, not be sucked into petty one-upmanship. The house itself, she had noted with considerable interest, was a small, plain brick veneer, quite obviously a long-term rental. With very little garden, a wrought-iron letterbox perched on an angle, and fringed Holland blinds that were pulled almost all the way down, like the lids of sleepy, secretive eyes.

Sunday night had probably been the lowest point of the week just gone. Sam's and Ashley's voices still echoed throughout the house, with a whole week before they would be there again. And such a seemingly endless space of time before it became permanent once more. A saving grace had been Jenny's phone call, at around eight o'clock, to tell her that the group had made a unanimous decision on Friday night that they should accommodate Maddie, at least in the short term, making the meetings Thursdays instead. And this simple gesture had been exactly what she needed, not just the physicality of it, but the thoughtfulness, the consideration.

After that, the week crawled past, punctuated only by nightly phone calls from either Sam or Ashley, and the occasional legal task in preparation for the hearing. Like paperwork, and more affidavits, and enduring a futile, fiery phone conversation with each of Jake's absent sisters who, even if the years had not been kind to their relationship with him, were still not willing to switch sides. Or even, in Sandy's case, talk to Maddie at all. Fortunately this not altogether unexpected result was more than counterbalanced by a marvellous affidavit that was faxed in from Austria. And then everything was overshadowed by Robyn's proclamation that they should move sooner rather than later, with sooner meaning Jake be served by the end of the week. And suddenly they were in the game, just like that.

‘Well then, I think it's time to crack this bottle open.' Jenny got to her feet, her multilayered skirt, made up of pastel chiffony panels, fluttering around her shins. She picked up the bottle that Maddie had brought along and held it out, pretending to read the label with a very bad French accent. ‘Ah, an
ex
cellènt choice, mademoiselle. A fine year for le grapes.'

‘Don't give up your day job,' grinned Lyn. She waited for Jenny to leave and then turned to Maddie, looking serious. ‘You're still relying on getting a half-decent magistrate though, someone who sees through the good guy crap.'

‘I know,' Maddie nodded. ‘But my biggest weapon is the kids. They don't
want
to live with him. Even my daughter, now the novelty's worn off. And the ICL, that's the children's lawyer, has to put their views forward, whether he agrees with them or not. So that'll be a big factor. And then there's the family report, which we're booked into next week. That's another opportunity to get their views into the court.'

‘Be careful,' said Lyn. ‘I had a friend who was shafted by one of those family reports. She had a three year old who was climbing all over her for the first half, playing up, and then the kid finally discovered this toy box in the corner and got stuck into that for the second half. So the report said that the child was too clingy
and
showed signs of avoiding interaction with the mother. I mean, what the hell?'

‘I suppose that's where I'm lucky,' said Maddie slowly, ‘that mine are older.'

‘And what's the alternative?' Fiona stared at Lyn expressionlessly. ‘That she do nothing? Let him get away with calling the shots?' She paused for a moment. ‘Like you?'

‘Hey! I do the best I can!'

Jenny came back into the room with a tray of champagne flutes and a platter of cheese and crackers. She looked from Fiona to Lyn. ‘What's going on?'

‘Lyn's just explaining to us how letting her asshole ex do exactly what he pleases is the best thing for her and the kids.'

‘Stuff you, Fiona.' Lyn's face closed over and she suddenly looked older, harder. ‘I know you think you're helping, but you're not. You go on about standing tall and proud and keeping your head high, but the fact is that just makes you more of a target. And you've got no idea what it's like with small kids. How easily they can be made to pay. If I push him I'm just going to make it harder for us. A
lot
harder.'

‘But you don't –'

‘I had an intervention order once, did I ever tell you that? Just after we split up. And boy, did I pay the price for that. When I called the police, for one of the many breaches, and they were going to have him charged, do you know what he did?' Lyn was still staring at Fiona accusingly, as if she had played a part. ‘He took the baby interstate. For three weeks. Do you have
any
idea what that's like?'

‘No.'

‘And do you know why I had the intervention order in the first place? Because after he found out I'd applied for child support, he broke my nose, perforated an eardrum. So yeah, I let him get away with shit. I tell Centrelink I'm getting child support even though I'm not, and they debit my allowance. I don't ring the police, ever. No matter what. And I make sure the kids have our phone number taped inside their shoes, just in case, and I always have them ready so he doesn't have to come inside. I don't complain when they come back late or dirty or whatever. No, I just wait for them to get older, so maybe then I can do something about the whole fucking mess.'