The Family Tree (36 page)

There had been no word from Sam since she had hung up on him. Not a phone call, or a note, or even a casual message passed on by one of the kids. She knew he was working hard because she had gleaned this information from Shelley, and she also knew that the trips to Eildon had continued. But she didn't know how to end the impasse without a loss of dignity that felt unbearable. However, as April slipped steadily by, Kate started to ask herself what was worse, swallowing her pride or losing Sam, and the answer became both clearer and more insistent.

On the morning of her forty-eighth birthday, Kate woke to breakfast in bed. Fried bacon and eggs, with toast on the side and a mug of fresh coffee. Angie placed the laden tray on the doona by Kate and then sat down on the side of the bed with a grin. ‘Happy birthday! I can't believe you were still asleep.'

Kate struggled to a sitting position and put the mug onto her bedside table so that it wouldn't spill. She glanced at the clock. ‘Ten past eight!'

‘What time did you finish up? I heard you still typing away when I went to bed.'

‘About one-ish, I think.' Kate pushed a pillow behind her back and then picked up the tray and balanced it on her lap. ‘Thank you! This looks delicious!'

‘You're welcome. Just remember to return the favour, okay?'

‘And by your birthday, you'll be a lady of leisure so you'll be able to enjoy it.'

Angie plucked a small rasher of bacon off the plate. ‘So any big plans today?'

‘No. Think I'll just continue with the writing.' Kate sliced into her egg, releasing a burst of thick yellow yolk. ‘Actually, maybe I'll go for a drive.'

‘When? This morning?'

Kate frowned at her tone. ‘No, probably later. Why?'

‘Nothing,' Angie shrugged. ‘I just thought maybe . . . you'd like to have lunch or something? Then you can go for a drive afterwards.'

‘Sounds good. Shall I meet you at the shop?'

‘Sure.' Angie took a bite of the bacon and started chewing.

Kate looked at her. ‘Well, what time?'

‘Oh, say noon?'

‘Okay, then.' Kate nodded and turned to her meal. It was a long while since she had last had breakfast in bed. In fact, she suspected it might have been soon after the birth of the twins, when Sam had surprised her one morning with scrambled eggs on toast. And a nearly three-year-old Shelley had scrambled into the bed next to her and they all kept their voices down for fear of waking the occupants of the two nearby bassinets. Whose vocal chords had to be heard to be believed.

‘What are you smiling about?' asked Angie.

‘Nothing much.'

‘Oh well, I'd better get going. Some of us have to work for a living.'

‘Hey! I've been working flat out!'

‘True. I meant some of us don't have the luxury of staying at home and working in our pyjamas.' Angie peered at herself in the mirror and tried to smooth down her hair. Then she shrugged and turned towards the doorway, pausing as she saw the envelope on the desk. ‘Is this for me?'

Kate felt a frisson of what felt almost like panic. Then, as quickly as it had formed, it slid away, leaving just the answer behind.

Angie frowned. ‘Well?'

‘Actually . . . yes, it's for you. Take it. But don't read it at work.'

‘Why on earth not?'

‘Because it's personal, that's why.' Kate stared at her for a few moments, willing the message across. She sighed. ‘Because it's that thing I promised you. The story. About Dad's last day.'

‘Oh.' Angie looked down at the envelope again with sudden understanding and then picked it up gingerly, as if it were precious. ‘I see. Okay. Thanks.'

Kate listened to the sound of Angie running down the stairs and felt a knot of anticipation over her cousin reading the story, a feeling of being judged, both for her actions and for her writing technique. The latter admission made Kate smile. I
must
be a writer, she thought, if the words matter as much as the content. Or almost as much.

Nevertheless there was also an unexpected sense of relief at finally passing the envelope over, and thus sharing ownership. Spreading it around. Kate steadied the tray as she put the bacon into her mouth. Breakfast in bed was one of those things that always sounded much better in theory than it played out in practice. Forty-eight years old. She took a deep breath and then shrugged. It was only a number, and it didn't seem quite so important when she felt that she was achieving something. And she was.

If it wasn't for the dilemma involving Sam, Kate knew that she would have been more content than she had been for a long time. Everything else seemed to be coming together, except that – which was falling apart. But maybe today, maybe he would ring. Kate pushed the tray over to the side of the bed and then flung back the doona and padded into the ensuite where she stared at the mirror, trying to see the evidence of her freshly amplified age. It didn't seem too obvious, only some slight indentations running down to her mouth, and a few shadows where once all had seemed smooth.

After showering, Kate pulled on a pair of snug black tracksuit pants
that flared over her runners and a lime-green and black striped windcheater jacket with a wide hood. In the kitchen Angie had left the morning paper folded on the bench so Kate curled up in the armchair to bring herself up to date with the news. She had just finished when the phone rang. Immediately her stomach clenched.

‘Hello?'

‘Happy birthday, Mum!' shouted Caleb, a great deal of noise in the background.

‘Thanks, but where
are
you?

‘At uni! Early lecture!'

‘So what's all the noise then?'

‘Pardon?'

‘I said what's all the –'

‘Sorry, can't hear you!' yelled Caleb. ‘Too much noise! I'll ring back later!'

Kate hung up the phone with a wry smile and it rang again almost immediately. She answered it quickly, before she could start debating who it might be.

‘Mum! Happy birthday!'

‘Thanks, Shell. How are things?'

‘Good, good.' Shelley sounded breathless. ‘I'm at the shop today. Took another sickie. Jacob wanted to fit the network cable. For the computer.'

‘Jacob's there too?'

‘Yeah, hang on.' Shelley's voice faded as she obviously turned from the phone and whispered, rather loudly, ‘Mum's on the phone. Say happy birthday.'

Jacob's voice came clearly. ‘Happy birthday, Mum!'

‘Thanks, Jake. So how's the –'

‘It's me again, Mum,' interrupted Shelley. ‘So, got a big day planned?'

‘Not really, although I'll be down there later.'

‘Down where?'

Kate frowned. ‘The shop, of course. I'm having lunch with your aunt.'

‘Oh, really? Okay, we'll see you then.'

Kate hung up the telephone with the frown still in place. While it was nice for the kids to ring her for her birthday, even if it clearly hadn't occurred to Jacob himself, it was a bit puzzling that not one of them had said anything about catching up. Maybe for a birthday dinner, or at least to give her a present, or even a card. Instead, it seemed that a lunch with Angie was going to be the extent of her birthday celebrations.

She stared at the telephone, willing it to ring again. Just once more. In the background she could hear the clock counting down the minutes. It suddenly occurred to her that only a few months ago she had been desperate for time to decelerate, and now it had. Maybe too much.

But maybe also time had never been the problem, only the symptom. Maybe
she
had been the problem. Thrown out of sync with her surroundings. And whether this lack of equilibrium had been building for years, and had then been hugely exacerbated by her father's death, or whether it had actually been
caused
by her father's death, was really a moot point. As long as it was re-established.

Kate took a deep breath and gazed at the telephone again. She picked up the receiver and re-hung it to check that it had been disengaged properly. And when the
beep
was immediately followed by the tinny melody of the doorbell, she was at first rather confused as to its origin. But then her stomach clenched again, and for a few seconds she just stared up towards the foyer. Then she took a deep breath and made herself walk slowly, steadily, over to answer the door.

‘Happy birthday,' said Sam, with a cheerful smile.

She felt suddenly light-headed. ‘Thank you.'

‘No problem.'

Kate looked at him expectantly, waiting for some sort of acknowledgement of the fact that they'd just spent nearly four weeks not speaking, but he continued to grin. Kate glanced involuntarily down towards his hands. No flowers, no present. Nothing. She kept her face blank. ‘Um, would you like to come in?'

‘Nah, haven't got time.'

‘Oh.' Her stomach went into freefall. What could she say, or do, to make him stay? Or talk? Or
something
?

‘D'you want to come for a drive?'

‘Yes!' said Kate, much too quickly. She hazarded a smile and this seemed to have an immediate relaxing effect, on her at least.
Sam
had seemed perfectly relaxed from the moment she opened the door.

‘Okay then. Let's go.'

Kate's smile widened with relief, as well as the unexpectedness of it all. His nonchalance did more than anything else to diminish her feelings of awkwardness. She glanced at Sam's cargo pants and assumed that casual was fine, so she just grabbed her handbag from the hall table and walked out onto the porch, reaching behind to shut the door.

‘Hang on.' Sam put a hand out. ‘I have to grab something for Angie.'

‘For Angie?'

‘Yeah. She asked me to,' said Sam, rather lamely. ‘You go ahead and hop in the car. I'll just be a tick.'

Kate frowned as she watched Sam go past her and then run quickly up the stairs, taking the steps two at a time. This was distinctly odd, not only because Angie hadn't mentioned anything about Sam but because if she
did
want something, then why hadn't she just asked Kate? Then she smiled again as she remembered it was her birthday, and distinctly odd was usually
good
on such occasions.

Kate had just opened the passenger-side door when she heard the front door close. She glanced back curiously. Sam was coming towards her carrying a navy blue sports bag which he took straight to the rear of the ute. He unfastened a corner of the black tarpaulin and slid the bag underneath carefully before hooking it back up. He turned to her with a grin. ‘Let's rock and roll!'

‘Okay.' Kate looked at him suspiciously, but didn't move.

His grin widened. ‘Come on, trust me.'

‘Hmm,' said Kate noncommittally. But she got into the car and did up her seatbelt. The interior had clearly been tidied recently but the familiar dusty smell remained, reminiscent of brick dust and concrete and countless building sites. Sam slipped into the driver's seat, and turned the key in the ignition. He flicked another grin at her and then put the car into gear and drove up the driveway and out into the road.

‘So where are we going?' asked Kate, winding down her window a trifle.

‘You'll soon see.'

Kate stared at him for a moment, but when no further information was offered, she looked straight ahead, letting herself enjoy the relief that came from a chance at resolution, as well as the whole mystery of the occasion. They headed up towards the nearby foothills and Kate continued to relax as they drove, aided by a strong sense that the further they went, the more certain they would be able to settle their differences before returning. She sneaked a glance towards Sam and wasn't sure whether to be disappointed that he looked so well, although rather in need of a haircut. He caught her eye.

‘So, how do you feel about being kidnapped?'

‘Well, it's never been one of my fantasies. But I suppose it depends on where I'm held, and by whom.'

Sam chuckled. ‘All will be revealed.'

‘That sounds interesting.' Kate moved herself around in her seat so that she was facing him. ‘Should I have brought supplies?'

‘Nah.'

‘What's in the sports bag?'

‘You'll find out later.'

‘It's not really for Angie, is it?'

‘You have to know everything, don't you?' asked Sam mildly. ‘Can't stand surprises.'

‘I wouldn't say I can't
stand
them. More that they're . . . itchy.'

‘Itchy?' Sam glanced at her, with eyebrows raised.

‘You know what I mean.' Kate watched him as he drove. ‘Anyway, I hope I won't have to rely on one of the kids to ransom me?'

Sam laughed again. ‘
That
could mean a long stay.'

She stared at the slight shadow along the curve of his jawbone, the fine lines that fanned out from the corner of his eye. She wondered that she had ever been prepared to trade
this
for some notion of freedom. Not when she could have both.

‘You trying to make up your mind?' asked Sam lightly.

‘No.' Kate looked away. ‘Um, I probably should tell you that I'm supposed to be meeting Angie for lunch later.'

Sam lifted one hand from the steering wheel and waved it dismissively.

‘Does that mean I'm
not
meeting Angie for lunch later?'

‘Just be patient.' Sam coasted to a halt at a traffic intersection and turned to her. ‘So what do you think of Shelley and Jake going into partnership, then?'

‘Mixed feelings. But I'm feeling a lot better about it all now that Angie's passing the shop over earlier. That'll give them plenty of time to learn the ropes while she's still around. I mean, neither of them has ever run a business before. It's not that easy.'

‘I know. But I reckon it'll be good for them. Besides, if and when they split up the partnership, it'll still be something for his resume. Which is better than nothing.'