The Family Tree (4 page)

‘Thanks, sweetheart.'

‘How's the permit going for the development?' asked Oscar, putting his burger down and breaking a small crescent of meat from the middle. He popped this in his mouth and turned to Sam questioningly.

‘On track,' replied Sam, glancing across at Kate and then shaking his head imperceptibly at Oscar.

‘You'll be rolling in it soon. And the kids,' Oscar beamed across at Kate and Angie, neither of whom beamed back. He frowned. ‘What? What did I say?'

As nobody answered him, Oscar shrugged his shoulders and went back to picking at his burger. Kate glanced across at Sam and he smiled at her, a smile that both apologised and sympathised but did nothing to ease her.

A rustling movement underneath the bottlebrush heralded the gradual emergence of Hector, their fifteen-year-old Labrador-cross. The dog stood at the bottom of the steps for a moment, as if hoping some alternative form of ascension might materialise. Then he sighed heavily and began the climb himself, one paw at a time. Finally reaching the top, he swayed melodramatically and wandered slowly over to Sam's chair, where he gazed up at his master.

‘How's it going, mate?' Sam reached down to ruffle the thick grey-black fur of Hector's neck.

‘Don't feed him,' said Kate, turning to Angie to explain, ‘Vet's orders. He needs to lose a bit of weight.'

‘Him and me both,' commented Angie, finishing off her steak.

‘Actually, it's not so much his weight as the flatulence,' added Sam, rather unnecessarily in Kate's opinion.

‘Uncanny,' said Oscar, looking from the dog to Angie and then back again. ‘The similarities keep building. Wasn't that one of the reasons we got divorced?'

‘Very funny. I think you're projecting there, sport.'

Hector continued to stare at Sam for several minutes, but when it became obvious that a neck ruffle was the best he could hope for, he wandered over to Oscar instead.

‘Have you started reading that book yet?' asked Angie, pouring some more wine.

‘What book?'

‘You know exactly what book. The one about writing.'

Oscar held up a hand as he swallowed some burger. ‘I know what you should do. You should go to one of those retreats.'

Kate raised her eyebrows. ‘Really? Like to practise my yoga?'

‘No, I'm serious. You see them in the paper sometimes. Writers' retreats.'

‘That's actually not a bad idea,' said Angie, staring at him.

‘Don't sound so surprised.' Oscar took another bite and chewed contentedly.

Kate allowed her mind to entertain the prospect for a moment. A writers' retreat, perhaps set on a mountain amongst towering trees and meandering paths, where everybody was totally self-sufficient and dedicated to their craft. And the only sound was the tapping of keyboards and the occasional whisper as ideas were explored. Then at night, all the occupants would recline on the balcony overlooking the blue-grey clefts of the mountain range as they discussed Proust and Plath and the merits of differing narrative techniques.

‘Maybe I should have given you one of those for Christmas instead of the vacuum cleaner,' said Sam with a smile. Then he elaborated hurriedly, ‘I mean like a weekend there, not the whole place.'

‘Glad you made that clear.' Kate smiled back, rather flatly. With some effort she recaptured the balcony scene again, but this time all
her companions were much younger with smugly superior smiles and could actually talk about Proust and Plath and know what they were talking about. She was totally out of place.

‘You gave her a
vacuum cleaner
?' asked Oscar, lifting one eyebrow.

‘Hey, come on. It was the latest model. You should see it!'

Emma chose that moment to start complaining rather noisily, so Kate jumped up before Sam could offer to fetch the vacuum cleaner and show it off. The baby was holding tightly to the wooden rails and straining as she tried to lift herself, but her bottom barely left the ground. Kate hefted her up and snuggled her koala-like against her chest as she carried her back over to the table. Emma chortled happily.

‘So any chance of Shelley getting back together with that Daniel?' asked Oscar, his eyes on the baby.

‘Can't see it,' Sam leant back with a sigh, the vacuum cleaner forgotten. ‘I'd like to say it's his fault, but . . .'

The sentence was left hanging as Kate sat down with Emma on her lap. The baby immediately hooked a damp finger underneath her grandmother's watch strap and then ducked her head down with determination, mouth open and reaching. Angie slipped off her necklace and, clicking the beads against each other to attract Emma's attention, passed them over.

‘Thanks, Ange.' Kate manoeuvred Emma back into a sitting position as the baby crammed beads into her mouth. Oscar sighed happily, pushing his plate away as he patted his stomach with exaggerated satisfaction. Next to him, Hector seemed to be looking just as content. Kate frowned. ‘Oscar, did you feed that dog?'

‘Someone had to,' replied Oscar sanctimoniously. ‘Poor ole bugger. Food's one of the few pleasures he's got left and you won't even let him have that?'

‘It's for his own good!' protested Kate crossly, jiggling Emma. ‘And it's not like he's being starved, you know. He only had his dinner a couple of hours ago.'

‘Don't get excited. It was just one of those chilli burgers.'

‘For god's –'

‘New year's resolutions!' interrupted Angie brightly. ‘Who's got one?'

‘First a refill, I think,' said Oscar heartily. ‘Especially for you, Katey-loo. You seem a bit on edge tonight.'

Kate watched Oscar narrowly as he refilled her glass and then emptied the chardonnay into Angie's, finishing off with a showy twirl of the bottle. She was just using her mental thesaurus to describe him fittingly when she felt a distinct nudge against her ankle under the table. At first attributing the nudge to Hector, she was a bit surprised to see that the dog was still sitting by Oscar's chair. Kate glanced across the table at Sam. He winked sympathetically, but instead of the action soothing her, it only honed her irritation. A reaction which, in turn, made her feel even worse.

‘Okay.' Oscar passed Sam another beer from the esky and sat back, looking at them all with an air of self-satisfaction. ‘I'll start, shall I? My new year's resolution is to sell the house.'

‘Really?' Kate glanced at Angie and could tell she already knew.

‘It makes sense. I've hung on to it mainly for sentimental reasons. You know, that's where Mel grew up and all. But driving into town each day for work is pretty stupid, especially with petrol skyrocketing now. So I've decided to put it on the market and buy one of those apartments at the Docklands.'

‘He offered it to me first,' added Angie. ‘But I like my unit.'

‘So you'll be a yuppie, then?' asked Sam, grinning.

Kate regarded him thoughtfully. ‘I think you'd make a good yuppie.'

‘I agree,' Oscar nodded. ‘And the good news is that if you ever need anywhere to stay in town, like after a play or something, you'll be right. But it means I'll have my work cut out getting the house ready. I need to retile the bathroom, stuff like that.'

‘I'll give you the name of an excellent tiler,' said Sam. ‘Top bloke.'

‘Thanks, mate. Appreciated. So what's yours then? Your resolution?'

Sam glanced fleetingly across at Kate and then shrugged. ‘Don't really have one. Just that this year's better than last.'

‘Here, here,' said Oscar, raising his beer slightly as everybody fell silent.

Kate stared out across the backyard and suddenly, as if a shutter had clicked in her mind, she clearly saw her father's doorway, up at the end of the passage. Frozen in time. She blinked, and forced herself to retreat. Back towards the balcony at the writers' retreat where, judging by the faces of the others,
nothing
was expected of her.

‘You next then,' said Angie, taking a sip of wine and then looking at Kate quizzically. ‘What's your new year's resolution?'

Everybody on the balcony waited for her answer. She shrugged. ‘I don't know.'

‘Come on, Katey-loo. You need something to focus on. Put last year behind you.'

‘Well, how about you leave me till last,' said Kate lightly. ‘Give me time to come up with something.'

‘Okay then, me,' Angie sat up straighter. ‘Mine is that I'm going to take some positive steps to move forward. Last year
was
dreadful, but now it's over.' She paused for a moment before continuing quickly. ‘So for starters I'm going to do something I've been thinking of for a while, ever since Mel went over to London in fact. I'm going to clean her room out and get a boarder.'

‘You're
what
?' Kate's mouth stayed slightly open as she stared at her cousin. Emma, fascinated by this turn of events, stuck a damp finger inside her grandmother's mouth and giggled.

Sam nodded approvingly. ‘That's a great idea. Give you some company.'

Kate removed Emma's finger and closed her mouth. It tasted like soggy plastic.

‘You want to watch who you get,' said Oscar pragmatically. ‘There's some weirdos out there. Haven't you ever seen
Fatal Attraction
?'

Angie stared at him. ‘What on earth has that got to do with having a boarder?'

‘Hang on,' Oscar clicked his fingers. ‘Wrong film. I meant the one with the psychopath who moves in with Kate Hudson.
Single White Female
I think it's called. Anyway, the point's the same with both films. Women can be very dangerous.'

‘And men can be idiots,' commented Angie. She turned to Kate. ‘So? What do you think?'

Kate was still thinking about what Angie had said.
Now it's over?
She felt resentful that Angie could even sum it up like that. Then she thought about her cousin sharing her unit with someone else. Cooking meals, watching television, sitting in the spa enjoying a bottle of wine. Each of the images flipped forward, crowding on top of each other until the stack of them gave her a headache. She drained her glass and then stared at the empty chardonnay bottle as if it might refill by sheer strength of willpower. Oscar reached over into his esky and pulled out an identical one. Using a corkscrew, he levered the cork out with a dull plop, and then passed the bottle over.

‘Thanks.' Kate refilled her glass and took a long sip. The wine gave her a pleasant fuzziness around the edges that made Angie's news slightly more palatable. She repositioned Emma and turned back to her cousin. ‘Do you have someone in mind?'

Oscar suddenly frowned. ‘Male or female?'

‘No, and female. Preferably non-psychopathic,' Angie grinned. ‘Although you must admit that'd inject some spice into my life.'

‘Why do you
need
any spice?' asked Kate. It came out like a whine, so she cleared her throat before continuing. ‘I mean, you always said you liked the solitude. Having your own space.'

‘I
do
, but it'd be something different. And right now different's good.'

‘Not necessarily,' said Oscar darkly.

Kate drank some more wine, aware that Sam was watching her, puzzled. But instead of feeling warmed by his regard, she felt annoyed. As if sensing tension, Emma let go of the beads and started to fidget restlessly. Kate automatically took her by the hands and helped her stand unsteadily on her lap, where she rocked from side to side happily.

Angie was looking at her quizzically. ‘What's up?'

‘Nothing.' Kate kept her eyes on Emma, now giggling happily. There was another nudge against her leg under the table but she didn't want to look in Sam's direction. Emma's knees strained and then folded, the baby sitting down with a thud, so Kate took advantage of having a
spare hand to have another sip of wine. Emma grabbed the hand back as soon as it was free and then used it to lever herself back up again. She laughed proudly.

‘So what about you, Katey-loo?' asked Oscar. ‘What's your resolution then?'

‘Write a book, I suppose,' replied Kate distractedly. ‘Same as it was last year, and the year before that. And don't call me bloody Katey-loo.'

‘Maybe this year you should make a definite plan,' said Angie. She glanced across at Sam. ‘Putting
specific
time aside.'

‘Yeah, that'll work.' Kate stared over towards the bungalow. She knew that Angie meant well but she wished she would stop trying to be encouraging; it just made her feel worse. Emma crouched down once more and then paused, giggling, before shooting upwards and connecting with the underside of Kate's chin, which made a distinct cracking noise that echoed all the way up her jawline. Tears sprung into her eyes, while Emma collapsed into a heap and started crying.

‘Christ!' Sam jumped up and lifted the wailing baby off Kate's lap to examine her head. ‘Are you okay, sweetheart?'

‘I'm fine thanks,' said Kate through gritted teeth as Emma continued to howl. She felt her chin gingerly, half expecting to find a split in the skin weeping copious amounts of blood. But it just felt tender.
Very
tender.

‘That was some whack!' said Oscar admiringly.

‘Here, Sam, give her a cracker.' Angie pushed the dip platter over towards Sam, who sat back down with Emma on his lap. He took a cracker and waved it in front of her. ‘Here you go, sweetie, want this?'

Sweetie obviously did, as her sobs immediately receded and she reached out a fat, damp fist to grab the cracker, shovelling half of it into her mouth. Hector left his post by Oscar's chair to pad back to Sam's, clearly hoping to share in the spoils.

‘You okay, Kate?' asked Sam, finally.

‘I'll live.' Kate moved her jaw from side to side tentatively and then let go of her chin as she turned back to Angie. ‘So are you going to advertise? For this person?'