The Family Tree (5 page)

‘I suppose so.' Angie shrugged. ‘Unless you know someone?'

Kate shook her head. She took a sip of wine and tried to come to grips with her reaction to Angie's news. She knew, instinctively, that it was made of many parts but felt as if the wine had blurred each so that they leached into one another. Making them impossible to interpret.

‘I've got an idea,' said Sam, suddenly breaking the silence. He turned to Oscar. ‘Why don't you and I go and put Buggerlugs here to bed and we'll watch something till she goes off?'

Oscar jumped up quickly. ‘Good thinking, mate.'

‘Say goodnight then.' Sam brought Emma over to Kate and bent down so that she could kiss the baby on her cheek, still sticky with half-dried tears. Then he hoisted Emma up over his shoulder so that her head dangled slightly and the remains of the soggy cracker fell from her mouth and onto the decking. The baby stretched out her hand after it but laughed anyway. Hector watched them go and then wandered over to devour the soggy cracker before crawling underneath the table by Kate's feet.

‘I can't believe you didn't tell me,' blurted Kate, almost accusingly, before Sam and Oscar had even reached the bungalow. ‘Not even a hint!'

Angie frowned at her. ‘I don't know why you're taking this so personally. It's not that big a deal, really. So I get a boarder? So what?'

‘Sharing your home's not a big deal?'

‘Hang on.' Angie flipped her plait back and stared at her cousin for a few moments. ‘Are you feeling threatened or something?'

‘Don't be ridiculous.'

‘Then why are you being such a bitch about it?' Angie spoke mildly, which took some of the sting out of her words. ‘I just want to do something to shake up my life a bit. Help me move on. You do realise that I'm in pain too, don't you? He wasn't just my uncle, he was almost a father. And I know nothing will fill that void, but I'm trying to be pro-active. And maybe you should too.'

‘Hang on!'

‘Or at least support me,' continued Angie as if Kate hadn't spoken. ‘Acknowledge that I'm making an effort.'

Kate held Angie's gaze for a moment and then dropped her eyes until she was staring at the double row of stitching along her neckline. Her chin throbbed. Angie was right. She
knew
Angie was right, but she still couldn't get past the feeling of resentment, as if she was the one being left behind. And suddenly Kate realised that was
exactly
how she felt. Abandoned in her current state of ambiguity.

‘Listen, Kate –'

‘Shhh, I'm thinking.' Kate raised her eyes briefly to her cousin's face before flitting off to stare under the table at the dark mound of Hector. She used her foot to stroke him absentmindedly while she followed her train of thought. And she decided that if Angie had announced the news hesitatingly, as if unsure or needing approval, then she, Kate, would have reacted quite differently. But it was her air of certainty, of decisiveness, that had set her teeth on edge from the very beginning. And why? Well, because she was . . . jealous.

‘Are you not talking to me now?'

‘Of course I'm talking to you.' Kate frowned as her thought processes fractured, leaving just the one word lit up in neon – jealous. Jealous. JEALOUS.

‘You've got a funny way of showing it.' Angie pushed her chair back so that she was facing Kate full on. ‘Do you want to tell me what's going on?'

‘Nothing's going on.'

Angie put a hand on her cousin's arm. ‘It's Uncle James, isn't it?'

‘Of course not!' Kate emptied her glass and the wine helped. The slight fuzziness around her periphery had added a kaleidoscope effect, so that whatever she looked at was instantly framed within a mobile border. It was quite disconcerting. Kate looked across at Angie, trying the visual effect around her cousin's face and was pleased to see that it gave Angie's curly hair a Medusa-type look, with a halo of snake-like tendrils, each waving independently of the other. She smiled.

‘At last!' Angie smiled. ‘The mask cracks!'

‘There was no mask,' said Kate, concentrating. ‘Just concern, that's all.'

‘I appreciate it. Really. It's just –'

‘And whoever moves in with you is going to be very lucky,' Kate nodded, agreeing with herself. ‘I mean it. You're very easy to live with.'

‘Well, thank you. But don't forget you haven't lived with me for a long time,' Angie laughed. ‘I think I've picked up a few foibles along the way. Still, I don't think I'll have too much problem finding someone. I mean, the unit's nice and central. And they'll have plenty of time to themselves, what with me at the shop most days.'

‘Sounds perfect.' Kate smiled stiffly and reached out for the wine bottle to refill her glass. She knew it'd be a good idea to slow down, but she just couldn't summon the willpower. Instead, the thought of the kaleidoscope actually taking over her entire being was rather appealing. To hide behind it and lick her wounds, and only emerge when everything was back to normal. Or was
normal
the problem?

The bungalow door could be heard shutting very softly and then Sam and Oscar came into view past the trellis, strolling up the path towards the decking.

‘Hey girls,' said Oscar, bounding up the steps and throwing himself into his chair. ‘Absolute crap on TV. Just a bunch of idiots already counting in the new year.'

Sam set the baby intercom down on the table and checked the volume as he sat down. He smiled across at Kate and she was able to frame him neatly, but with less visual success than with her cousin. Instead his face remained steady, and only the background became blurred and indistinct.

‘Christ, what's that smell?' Oscar leant back with a grimace.

‘I can't smell . . . yes I can,' Sam looked accusingly down at Hector, who had the grace to look embarrassed as he slunk from underneath the table.

Kate glared at Oscar. ‘Chilli burger, hey? Well done.'

Angie waved her hand in front of her face and laughed. ‘That's rank.'

‘It'll pass,' said Oscar airily, turning to Sam. ‘So this tiler of yours then. Does he do paving as well? I need some of that redone before it goes on the market.'

Kate tuned out as Sam replied. She knew that once Oscar latched onto a subject he would worry at it from every angle, which meant that her input would not be needed for at least the next half hour or so. Instead, she found her thoughts veering towards Angie's unit. Its
ambience
. No dropped clothing, or abandoned books and magazines, or plates of congealed food slid underneath the coffee table, or soggy dummies behind the couch cushions, or flatulent dogs, or dirty fingerprints, or . . . anything that required constant menial tasks that sapped one of strength and –
essence
. Yes, essence. Kate nodded to herself righteously. It might sound melodramatic, but it was how she felt.

And she had meant it when she said that Angie's flatmate would be a fortunate person. Because, as she knew from personal experience, Angie was terrific to share with. Considerate, generous, liberal, virtually unflappable and
neat
. Very neat. And they would have this room, in this lovely unit, with this lovely
neat
person, and they would have it all to themselves for each and every day except Sundays, which was the only day that Angie had off. Even then she was usually out socialising or whatever. So there was this room, this whole
unit
, empty and peaceful and neat and just begging for someone who would appreciate it. Like her.

If it had not been for the alcohol, this last thought probably would have occurred to Kate a lot sooner. But also, if it hadn't been for the alcohol, she probably wouldn't have taken it so seriously. Instead, her eyes widened as the idea blinked into being, and then took hold, blossoming outwards until any and all objections were enveloped within its folds. It was like an epiphany, a revelation, which answered everything and glistened with potential. Kate shook her head and smiled with amazement.

‘You look like the cat that's got the cream.' Angie was looking at her curiously.

Oscar glanced over and laughed. ‘Told you it was good wine.'

‘Oh my god.' Kate was still in wonder at the brilliance of her idea. ‘I've had a
brainwave
. A resolution of my own! And it's perfect! You need a flatmate, and I – I need somewhere! For peace and quiet. To see if I
can
write a book. Give it a chance.'

‘Hang on,' Angie stared at her. ‘You're not saying that –'

‘
I
move in with you! You get your boarder and I get space! It's brilliant! Perfect!' Kate beamed around the table, her excitement blinding her. ‘And even if I
don't
get a book written, then at least I know I tried. But I've got a great feeling about this. I really do. It's the answer to everything. And it means I'll be able to move on as well. It's absolutely, one hundred percent perfect!'

There was utter silence for a few moments, and then Hector broke wind.

K
ate opened her eyes slowly and stared at the fluorescent green numbers on the bedside clock: 8.15 am. She could hear the drumming of the ensuite shower, which was probably what had woken her, and could feel the emptiness beside her that meant Sam was no longer there. She took a few minutes to allow the events of last night to filter through, and flinched when she came to the moment when she had made her euphoric announcement.

Surprisingly enough she did not feel as ill as she deserved. She was tired, but it was that same intrinsic tiredness she had felt for months now, the one that seemed to colour everything in shades of grey. Apart from that, there was just a sore spot on her chin, a dull ache around her temples, and a slightly nauseous feeling in the pit of her stomach. But it was difficult to say whether the latter was due to overindulgence or the lingering reaction to an evening that had been less than pleasant.

Kate pulled up the pillow and pressed it against her face. She felt like crying, and she also felt like screaming. Now she clearly remembered the stunned silence, the embarrassment. And, from Oscar, a barely disguised amusement that had done more to sober her up than the stillness emanating from her own husband. The shower stopped with a rumble of the water pipes, and she pulled the pillow off her head quickly before flopping over to face the ensuite doorway. She opened her eyes a trifle so that she could observe through her lashes.

The door opened and a large quantity of steam issued forth to dissipate against the ceiling. Sam emerged, drying his hair with one towel, another wrapped around his waist. He stopped by the bed and looked down at her for a moment before heading over to the wardrobe. The sound of coathangers jangling followed, so Kate rearranged herself quietly. Sam, now totally naked, was standing at the foot of the bed with his back to her while he chose an outfit. Kate opened her eyes fully and admired his buttocks. They really were rather impressive for a man of his age. Nice, firm, and showing just the slightest effect of nearly a half-century of gravity.

‘I know you're watching me.'

Kate didn't answer, mainly because he had now bent over to fetch his runners and words failed her.

‘That was Pete on the phone before. There's been a break-in at the Berwick job and they've trashed the place. Kids most likely. Anyway, I've got to go assess the damage. Make a police report.'

‘Okay,' said Kate, watching his back and trying to guess his mood.

‘I'll probably be a few hours.' Sam pulled on a pair of jocks and then jeans and a polo shirt. He turned and looked at her, holding her gaze for a few seconds, before sitting down on the edge of the bed and tugging on his socks and runners.

‘So how's with Oscar selling the house?' asked Kate brightly. ‘About time, hey?'

‘I suppose.'

‘I think it'll be good for him. I mean, all that travelling into town, and a family house for just one guy . . .' Kate petered off and waited for a response. When none was forthcoming, she swallowed the nauseous feeling that always rose to meet the silent treatment. She glanced back towards Sam, who was now dressed and fixing his watch onto his wrist. Suddenly it seemed important to say something – anything – before he left, so she blurted out the first thing that came into her head. ‘I might go out for a while.'

‘Fine.'

‘Okay.'

‘See you later then.'

Kate watched him leave the room and then pulled the pillow back over her head miserably. She had no real intention of going out, but she didn't want to stay home either. And remaining in bed allowed too much opportunity for thought, and she really didn't want to think. Not yet.

The ensuite was still steamy and Sam's boxer shorts lay half in and half out of the shower cubicle. Nor were there any towels, as both the clean ones now lay crumpled at the foot of their bed. With some relief, Kate allowed irritation to counter her guilt while she fetched one of the damp towels and showered before dressing casually, in a pair of navy tracksuit pants and a white T-shirt. Then she headed for the kitchen, and some much-needed coffee.

Out on the decking were the remains of last night's get-together: charcoaled barbecue, dirty plates, empty beer stubbies and two chardonnay bottles. The former contents of which, she felt fairly positive, were mostly now sitting heavily in her gut busily transforming themselves into calories. On top of the outdoor table lay Hector, fast asleep with his head lolling over the remains of the dip platter. No doubt the dog would be a mobile gas emission for the entire day.

It took her over an hour to clean up and stack the dishwasher, after which Kate sat down and stared out at the glistening surface of the pool. In the centre, where the sunlight danced along the water, it looked like a patchwork of royal blue and white sequins. Picture perfect. Kate shook herself and made a mental note to put some chlorine in later.