At Home With The Templetons (22 page)

Tom ran up to her. ‘Are you okay, Gracie?’

‘Fine,’ Gracie said brightly. ‘I didn’t feel a thing. Ready for the next one when you are.’

Nina saw Tom give her an admiring smile, before he picked up the ball again. ‘You’re almost as much fun as Spencer,’ she heard him say over his shoulder as he walked back to his mark. Gracie’s smile nearly lit up the backyard.

‘: ‘ or the next week, Nina avoided any more contact with the residents of Templeton Hall. It wasn’t deliberate, she told herself. She just happened to be out during the hours Gracie normally visited. Tom was so busy with extra cricket practice that he’d stopped asking if he could go and visit Spencer. And there’d been no phone calls from any of the Templeton Hall adults either. They were obviously busy dealing with Audrey and Hope. It was a good thing. She refused to let herself wonder what was going on in the Hall, and refused to rise to Hilary’s bait when they spoke one night.

‘A whole week without

contact? Have you been banished from the kingdom?’

‘Of course not. I’m glad of the peace, to be honest.’

‘When people say “to be honest”, I always think they’re lying, don’t you?’

Nina ignored that. ‘I’m too busy getting Tom ready for the match to worry about the Templetons.’

‘How is he?’ Hilary asked. ‘Excited? Nervous?’

‘Both, I think. I don’t know. I’ve never seen him like this before.’

Since the day he’d made the team he’d been preoccupied, distracted, distant even. He spent all his spare time outside bowling against the tank, coming in only to eat dinner, barely speaking to her, going straight to his room after he’d done the dishes, not even staying up to watch TV He’d asked if he could go into school earlier, telling her he wanted to make use of the cricket nets at the school oval. She’d tried chatting as they drove in each morning, but he spent the journeys gazing out the window. She was finding it hard to get even two words out of him, she told her sister.

‘No wonder,’ Hilary said. ‘Think of the pressure. Give him my love, won’t you?’

At practice one evening, Nina casually asked Ben’s mum if she’d noticed any change in her son since he’d got the news. Jenny laughed. ‘Any change? He’s a brand-new kid. Focused. Obedient. Eating every vegetable I put in front of him. Out doing push-ups every minute of the day. It’s a big deal for them both, Nina.’

Nina began to realise how big. The local paper ran a story on page one about Tom and Ben. The school hung a banner on the front gate. People in Castlemaine suddenly seemed to know who she was. ‘You’re Tom-the-cricketer’s mum, aren’t you?’

The match was taking place the following Thursday in Ballarat, just over an hour’s drive away. The night before, Nina checked Tom’s bag for the third time. His whites couldn’t be any whiter. She cleaned his shoes, then he cleaned them again and then, secretly, she did them one more time. She cooked a special meal, his favourite, lasagne, telling him how good it was for him, all the energy it would give him the next day. She told him one more time how proud she was. He barely acknowledged her.

She tried to find the words to tell him how proud his father would have been of him too. Something kept stopping her, though, some instinct that it would be a mistake to mention Nick. Was it a sign? she wondered. A good sign, proof that she had come to an acceptance at last about Nick? That it was enough that she was proud of Tom? That Nick’s absence didn’t have to rule over them for the rest of their lives? She dared to hope it was true, feeling somehow lighter than she’d felt in a long time.

Just before nine o’clock, Tom announced he was going to bed. She forced herself not to kiss him goodnight, reminding herself that he was twelve years old now. At his bedroom door, she settled on wishing him a good night’s sleep and reassuring him that she would set both her alarm clocks, before finally turning off his light and gently closing his bedroom door. She wouldn’t let herself be hurt by the fact he didn’t answer her.

An hour later, she’d just turned off the TV and was about to go to bed when she heard his voice behind her. ‘Mum?’ He was standing in the doorway.

‘Tom! Can’t you sleep?’ She patted the couch beside her, smiling. ‘No wonder. I’m very, very proud of you, did you know that? Have I told you recently?’

He didn’t move.

‘Tom? Are you all right?’

‘Gracie said she was sorry about my father dying.’ Nina stopped patting the couch. ‘What?’

His voice was very low. She had to strain to hear. ‘After we were playing cricket here last week. She said she was sorry my dad had died and that he’d never met me but she was sure he’d have been proud of me for getting on the team. But he did meet me, didn’t he?’ Nina felt her face flush red. This was it. The conversation she’d dreaded. The scene Hilary had warned her would happen. But now? Like this, the night before the match? No. She couldn’t do it to him. Pushing away angry thoughts towards Gracie, she tried to buy herself some time, tried to keep her voice casual. ‘Gracie said that?’

‘She said you’d told her all about Dad’s accident. That it happened the day I was born, not three years later. That he died on the way to the hospital.’

Nina heard Hilary’s voice in her head. ‘You have to tell him yourself. It will be worse for you and for him if he finds out any other way.’ She swallowed. ‘Let’s talk about this tomorrow, Tom. After the match.’

‘I need to know now. Did Dad meet me or not?’ ‘Tell him the truth, Nina. You have to.’

She gazed across at her son, hating herself for what was about to do and say to him.

‘Tom, can you come and sit here please? There’s something I need to tell you.’

I-he next day Nina needed three cups of coffee before she felt even half awake. She knew that Tom hadn’t slept any better. On the surface, it looked like a normal day in their house. He ate his breakfast, watched a cartoon on TV, fed the cat, did the dishes. But he was angry with her, she knew that. Filled with anger. She could see it in the set of his jaw, in the flash of his eyes, in the way he looked at everything in the room except her. He hadn’t looked directly at her since she’d told him the truth about his father’s death.

She wanted Hilary to witness this. See why I was right to keep it a lie? But she knew she had no one to blame but herself. She was the one who’d set it all in train, by lying in the first place. She was the one who’d told Gracie - Gracie, of all people - the real story. She could never have expected Gracie to keep it to herself. She was just a child. So why had she told her everything? What would one more lie have mattered? She knew the answer, deep inside herself. She’d been trialling it, carefully bringing the truth out into the air, to see what would

happen.

Now she knew. Tom was devastated. She had ruined their relationship. Spoiled one of the biggest days of his life.

She glanced at the clock. ‘Tom, we’d better get going.’ She didn’t try to make her voice sound cheery. She felt as wretched as she knew he did.

Ninety minutes later she was sitting in the grandstand of the Ballarat cricket ground, watching her son warm up. Even from a distance, she could sense the energy coming off him. More than energy. A fierceness.

Beside her, Ben’s mother, jenny, obviously noticed something too. ‘Good God, Nina, what did you give Tom for breakfast? Nuclear-powered cornflakes?’

Nina could only half smile. If only jenny knew. As she watched her son throw ball after ball with great force, she knew exactly what was powering him. Fury at her.

She’d felt it coming off him the whole way to Ballarat. He stared out the window and wouldn’t talk to her. He got out of the car the second they arrived and ran over towards the change rooms where his team-mates were assembling, his bag bouncing on his back. She could only watch him go, and make her own way across to the grandstand. Jenny had waved up at her soon after, arriving minutes later with two cups of coffee.

‘Need this as much as I do?’ Jenny settled into her seat. ‘How was Tom this morning? Ben was literally sick with nerves, poor kid. He spent the whole trip here babbling, “What if I miss every shot?”, “What if I get out for a duck?” …’

As jenny continued describing the scene in her house that morning, and how her husband had helped calm Ben down, Nina’s thoughts turned to Nick again. Today of all days she’d never felt his absence so strongly. Seeing Tom out on the field, so like his father with his tall, lanky build, his quick movements … It should have been Nick here beside her, not jenny, the two of them cheering for their son, so proud of him, together.

The country team batted first. Ben played well, forty-two runs not out. Tom, on the team for his bowling rather than batting skills, still managed to score twelve runs, including a four. He hit the ball with a huge swing, sending it across to the boundary, receiving loud applause.

‘Wow,’ Jenny said to Nina. ‘I didn’t know he could bat too.’ Nina didn’t either.

Tom’s team was two hours into their first bowling innings when the Templetons arrived.

Jenny saw them first. ‘Good God. It’s the Addams family.’ Nina knew it was the current local nickname for the Templetons, a play on their pale skin as well as the big house. She turned to look, sure jenny was mistaken. She wasn’t. There they all were, carrying rugs and baskets, making their way to the edge of the oval. Henry, Eleanor, Hope, Gracie, Audrey - in a pair of large sunglasses - and a very excited Spencer, who was already leaning over the boundary fence, cupping his hands to his mouth and shouting out to Tom on the field. Nina saw Tom give a flash of a smile and the briefest of acknowledgements.

Jenny stared in amazement. ‘What’s lured them into the real world?’

Nina didn’t reply. She didn’t need to. Gracie gave everyone the answer as she reached into the bag beside her and unfurled a white banner that read: Tom to Win!!!!

‘They’re Tom’s fan club?’ Jenny said. ‘Nina, you dark horse! I didn’t realise you knew them.’

‘I don’t. We don’t. Not really.’

Jenny obviously wanted to ask more but it was Tom’s first turn to bowl. Nina sat, holding her breath. It was a regional competition. She’d watched Tom bowl many times before. This wasn’t the Ashes and they weren’t playing at Lord’s, but she had never been as nervous as this. It felt like her whole relationship with her son hinged on this first ball.

Afterwards, she couldn’t even tell Tom she saw it happen. The ball left his hand so quickly that she, as well as all the spectators and most especially the poor batsman, didn’t see it. It clean-bowled all three stumps of the wicket. There was no protest from the batsman, just a huge roar from Tom’s team-mates, even louder cheering from the crowd.

Tom took five wickets that afternoon. In the clamour after the match, Nina received so many congratulatory hugs it was as if she’d been on the pitch herself.

‘You must be so proud,’ the other school mums kept saying to her. People who didn’t know her had things to say as well. ‘You and your husband have a star on your hands.’

It took her ten minutes to make her way from the stand to where everyone was gathering in preparation for the cup presentation. Tom was still surrounded by team-mates and new fans. He was smiling, his face alight, dirty with sweat, his shirt half buttoned. She’d never seen him look so happy. She had to stop herself from running across and pulling him into a hug. As she came closer, Spencer ran past her, shouting Tom’s name. ‘Champion! It was all my coaching, wasn’t it?’

Behind him were Henry, Eleanor, Hope, then Audrey and Gracie. Nina’s private moment with Tom lasted five seconds - she only had time to hug him tightly and whisper, ‘I’m so proud of you,’ before the Templetons surrounded him, shaking his hand. She tried to ignore the fact that Tom hadn’t hugged her back and that he seemed happier sharing his success with Spencer and his family than her. She exchanged greetings with Henry and Eleanor, conscious the other parents were watching them curiously.

‘Big celebrations at your house tonight?’ Jenny said beside her, as the presentation began.

Nina nodded, already trying to plan the best night for Tom. His favourite pizza? His pick of videos? Maybe Ben would like to come and sleep over? She was about to ask jenny when the speeches began. Afterwards, just as she was looking for jenny again, Tom came up to her. He still wouldn’t look her in the eyes. It hurt her to notice. But his excitement was still high, the thrill of the win spilling colour into his cheek

s. ‘Mum, Spencer’s invited me to sleep over at Templeton Hall tonight. Is that okay?’

Tonight? she wanted to say. No! She wanted it to be the two of them tonight, celebrating together. She wanted to tell him again and again how proud she was, even if he was so angry with her that he couldn’t bear to look at her.

Spencer appeared beside them. ‘Can you?’ he said. ‘Nina, can he?’

She felt ambushed. She also knew she couldn’t say no. Somehow, from somewhere, she found a big happy smile. She casually tousled her son’s hair. ‘Of course he can. If that’s what he wants.’

Tom turned and left with Spencer and his family without saying goodbye to her.

‘He won’t even talk to me, Hilary.’ Nina was crying as she spoke. ‘He won’t look at me. I should never have told him. I told you it was the wrong thing to do.’ ‘It wasn’t, Nina. He had to know some day. The timing would never have been good.’

‘But it should have been a great day for the two of us, and it was ruined. I ruined it.’

‘Nina, he’ll come round. He will. You’re his mother. He loves you.’

‘He likes them more. You should have seen him today, Hilary. He couldn’t get over to the Hall quickly enough. I’m sitting here on my own and they’re the ones throwing a party for him.’ ‘So go over there too.’ ‘He doesn’t want me to.’

‘Nina, you’re his mother. He’s hurt and confused. Go over there.’

‘I’d feel pathetic just turning up.’

‘Any more pathetic than you feel sitting on your own now? Take over his favourite snacks. Leave again if you want, but at least he’ll know you love him.’

It was good advice. Nina took a deep breath, feeling herself become calmer, having something to do. ‘What would I do without you, Hilary?’