Sticks and Stones (9 page)

‘What about the kids?'

Maddie blinked, focused. ‘Well,
they
were a little more adventurous. Sam took his name from an older cousin he idolised and Ashley chose hers because at the time she was in love with those twins, Mary-Kate and Ashley Olsen. I suppose I should be grateful she wasn't keen on someone with a really weird name, like Whoopi Goldberg.'

‘Or that singer Pink?' suggested Kim, grinning. ‘She could've been Pink McCourt.'

‘Classy.' Maddie took another sip of coffee and made a face. ‘This has gone cold. Another?' She waited for Kim to nod before taking both mugs over to the bench. She filled the kettle and lit the gas before turning to face Kim, rubbing her arms and then folding them tight against her chest. ‘Max and Courtney. Those were their names.'

‘Max and Courtney.' Kim frowned pensively and then shook her head. ‘No, they just don't seem to fit.'

‘We used them for our new surname – McCourt. So there'd be some type of continuation. Not just this complete . . . severance.'

‘Good idea. But then, what's happened? How come he's got them now?'

Maddie turned to rinse out the two mugs. She stared at the cascading water. ‘Ashley contacted him via Facebook a few weeks ago.'

‘Did you know?'

‘No. No idea.' Maddie put the cups aside and rinsed her hands. ‘I think she thought she'd be able to keep it all a secret, you know. I don't blame her, of course I don't. But I doubt it took him long to work it out. Anyway, I thought I saw him at the fete on Sunday, then convinced myself I was imagining it. And when I got home from work on Monday they were gone. Back to our old house over on the other side of Melbourne. But they'll be back soon. Sunday.'

‘You've spoken to him?'

‘No.' Maddie shook her head emphatically, erasing the image of him standing in her kitchen.
How does it feel?
She wiped her hands on her pants, heels then palms. ‘I've only spoken to Sam, he rings every night. Like before, on the machine.'

‘But isn't he . . . I mean Jake . . . upset?'

‘I'm guessing yes.' Maddie brought two fresh mugs of coffee over to the table and sat down. ‘Wouldn't you be? But I'm hoping that once he gets over the anger, he'll be more approachable. More willing to come to some arrangement. Because he won't really have a choice anyway. And Sam says he's changed. Nicer.'

Kim was staring at her. ‘Six years.'

‘Yes.'

‘Wow. That's a long time. A
really
long time.' Kim spoke slowly, as if imagining being parted from her own son. For six years. ‘Will you . . . I mean, can you be charged?'

‘No, not really. There weren't any parenting orders in place or anything so I haven't
really
committed a crime.' Maddie searched her friend's face as she spoke, looking for any signs of condemnation, of disgust in a system that would allow a woman to act in such a way without retribution. But for once she couldn't read her. ‘He could have taken out recovery orders, and
that
might've meant trouble. For me. But he didn't.'

‘He didn't?' Kim stared at her. ‘Well, that was pretty decent then, wasn't it?'

Guess started scrabbling noisily at the back door so Maddie rose to let him in. He ran immediately over to his food bowl and then stared at it, as if astonished to find it empty. Maddie fetched a can of dog food and opened it, levering the contents into the bowl. When she turned around Kim had risen from the table, bringing her half-empty mug over to the sink. She stood beside Maddie, her back to the counter.

‘Do you know, I'd always guessed you'd had a rocky marriage. That it'd been less than pleasant. Because you never spoke about him and neither did the kids. But this? God.'

‘You understand why I couldn't ever tell you?'

Kim nodded slowly, staring towards the back door. ‘And it must have been hard for you. To leave everything and start again. As a single parent as well, without even
that
support.' She transferred her gaze back to Maddie. ‘What happens now?'

‘Not sure. I'd prefer no contact at all but I'm not sure that's going to be possible. In fact, I know it's not.'

‘No, probably not,' replied Kim slowly. She dropped her eyes for a moment and then, when she looked back up, she was smiling. ‘So what do you prefer? Maddie or Mattie?'

Maddie paused, considering.
My little Waltzing Matilda.
‘Let's stick with Maddie.'

‘Good, I'm used to that one,' Kim glanced down at her watch. ‘And I'm really sorry but I have to go. Otherwise Ryan'll be the only child left at after-school care. But we can talk more tomorrow night when I come around.'

‘Okay. Sure.'

Kim stared at her for a moment and then suddenly leant forward and wrapped Maddie in her arms. At first it was rather awkward, but then Maddie relaxed, breathing in the musky coconut of Kim's hair. Just as they got it right, they both started to pull away, parting clumsily with Kim reaching forward to pat Maddie on the back and striking her on the shoulder instead.

‘God, sorry!'

Maddie laughed. ‘Keep that up and I'll be running away from you next.'

‘Ah, but now I know your tricks,' Kim grinned, and then turned serious. ‘Look, Maddie, any time you need me, just ring. Okay?'

‘Okay.'

‘I mean that, and I'll keep my fingers crossed that everything turns out okay. But I'm sure it will. It'll be fine. And I'll see you tomorrow night anyway. I'll bring dessert. Something decadent, I think you need it.'

Maddie nodded, for a moment finding it difficult to speak. By the time the words arrived, Kim had already left, so she went over to the kitchen window to watch her hurry down the driveway, the sound of her heels scrunching against the gravel audible even at a distance. She waited until Kim got into her car and then washed her hands briskly before turning around and leaning back against the sink.

Sunday. Two more days. It was disappointing but, now that she thought about it, not altogether unsurprising. Of
course
he would want to hang on to them through the weekend; even apart from the logistics, he would still be deeply mired in revenge mode. And he would stretch this out as long as possible, not just as a show of strength but as a sample of the retribution that would come later. But the children were older now, less easily manipulated, and they had roots up here. Sooner or later he would have to come to the table and start discussions. All she had to do was be patient.

On the heels of this thought, Maddie realised, quite suddenly, that she felt good. Lighter. As if she had purged herself somehow. And she knew that it wasn't just because playing a waiting game actually suited her proclivities, or that she had now told someone, finally, but she felt good about
everything
, even including the fact that Jake had finally found them. Maddie's eyes widened as this thought formed and she realised, with a surge of warm, frothy surprise, that it was true. Maybe, just maybe, it would turn out to be a positive thing. Once the kinks were ironed out. There'd be no more secrecy, no more paranoia, no more looking over her shoulder and seeing Jake in every crowd. She had no illusions about the difficulties coming her way, even if he
had
really changed, but there would also be real benefits. Just the simple act of having a bank account, a credit card, parenting allowance. All the little things that connected one within the community. Being able to travel down to Melbourne whenever she chose, to visit her mother or her sister or see her niece's new baby for the first time. And then there was
her
, and what she wanted out of life. Further education, a career, pride in her own achievements. The ability to both reclaim her past and shape her future. To finally move on.

SEVEN

M
addie sat in her car, hands clasped on the steering wheel, staring at the house across the road. It seemed a fairly innocuous dwelling, with clinker brick and burgundy striped awnings and two cars parked in the driveway with another by the nature strip in front. It was these that had given her pause, bringing with them the reality that this support group would be made up of people, several people, each with their own car and story and background of abuse.

She had decided to attend only that day, driven by the thought that she had another two days to go before the kids returned. To spend them simply waiting no longer seemed as appealing as it had. She wanted,
needed
, to do something proactive during this hiatus. Even if it was just to listen to other women recount how they negotiated child access with problematic ex-partners. After all, knowledge was power.

But now that she was here, Maddie was having second thoughts. The idea of walking into a room full of women, to see them smile at her and
know
that they all knew what she'd come from, what she'd experienced, made her feel cold. To
become
one of them, when she, he,
they
, were so different. At this last thought, Maddie grinned wryly, because nowadays she knew that feeling unique was in itself
not
unique. That every woman who had ever been abused believed that her situation was different. Distinctive. It was yet another thing they all had in common.

Maddie opened the car door and got out quickly, before she could change her mind. She crossed the road and walked up the path, the heels of her boots clicking lightly against the concrete. At the front door she hesitated, but only briefly, before pressing the buzzer and listening to it echo within the house. Then she wiped her hands rapidly down her jeans as footsteps approached and the door swung open to reveal a plump woman with short, blue-black hair. She flung out her arms and smiled welcomingly.

‘You must be Maddie? For the support group?'

Maddie nodded. ‘Yes.'

‘Then come on
down
!' said the woman loudly, in a game-show voice. She gestured for Maddie to follow and led the way up a dark passage towards a lit room at the end. There was conversation coming from that direction, which got louder as they approached but then stopped abruptly. It was a very feminine lounge room, with a dusky salmon-pink suite and an array of glossy white furniture. A large bay window was festooned with matching salmon drapes that were swagged at the top and then caught back on the sides with brass rosettes. Two women were sitting on the couch, both staring at her with interest.

Maddie's companion beamed proudly. ‘We have a new member. This is Maddie.'

‘Welcome, Maddie,' said one of the other women, a big-boned blonde with a fleshy face. ‘I'm Lyn and this here is Fiona.'

‘And I'm Jenny,' said the woman who had greeted her. ‘Grab a seat. Now what can I get you? Coffee, tea? How do you have it?'

‘Coffee thanks. And white with one.'

Maddie sat down in one of the armchairs and then surreptitiously glanced at the other two women, who both immediately smiled back. They made an odd couple, with Fiona a small but angular woman with a bob of dark hair and thin features.

‘Do I know you?' asked Lyn suddenly.

‘I don't think so.'

‘Probably just seen each other around,' said Fiona. She had a husky voice that reminded Maddie of old-time Hollywood and cigarettes in long, pearl-handled holders. ‘You live locally?'

‘Badgerton,' said Maddie. ‘So not far at all.'

Jenny came back in with a mug of coffee and placed it on a side table by Maddie. She took the spare armchair and then beamed around the room. ‘Perhaps I should give our newest member a very brief history of the group, just to fill in the gaps.'

‘Good idea,' said Fiona, nodding approvingly.

‘Can I ask if you've ever been in a support group before?' Jenny waited for Maddie to shake her head before continuing. ‘See, some of them run for a certain period of time and then just stop. That's what happened to us. We were in this organised group, with a facilitator and everything, and that was great. For eight weeks. Then we had this nice break-up afternoon tea, sort of like a graduation, and that was it. So we all looked at each other and said, “What now?” Because eight weeks just didn't seem enough.'

‘Not even close,' added Lyn with a snort of disgust.

‘And we decided to keep going by ourselves, meeting at my house. Only because I don't have any kids so it's easier. And that was, what? Three years ago?'

Fiona nodded again. ‘About that.'

‘We started off with eight women but most have dropped away over time. Or just come to a meeting every so often to touch base. That's why we thought we'd start advertising for new members. Also to, well, try and give something back.'

‘Not that we think we're experts,' said Fiona, smiling.

‘Although we are,' finished Jenny without any trace of humour. ‘Now for very brief potted backgrounds. I was married for fifteen years and have been separated for four, divorced for two. No children, which is probably good, because there's nothing to tie me to him. He's remarried now. Lives not far away but I hardly ever see him. Fortunately. Over to you, Lyn.'

‘I've been separated for four years and I've got four kids. The oldest is ten and the youngest is three.' Lyn paused and grinned at the expression on Maddie's face. ‘I can see you're doing the maths, hey? But the thing is, I was pregnant when I left, and so he was born after. Anyway, not like Jen here, I see my ex all the time. And the crap just keeps on coming.'

There was silence for a few moments after this, as if the women were paying tribute to an unpleasant reality. Finally Fiona coughed politely. ‘While I do have children, two of them, I'm lucky in that they're both older. Young adults. So whether they see their father or not has nothing to do with me. We've been divorced for five years now and I don't think I've seen him since then. Although my daughter gets married early next year, so the wedding should be rather interesting.' She shrugged philosophically. ‘But I'm sure I'll cope.'