Broken (11 page)

It had rained all day Friday. Warm late October rain that was sorely needed after a rather dry winter. From the unit, it looked like a steady curtain of water that was as effective as any concrete barricade. It beat down incessantly from the skies, hammering the earth into submission. Even the bushes and trees bowed in subservience. But rather than allow it to dampen her mood, Mattie had used the rain as a ready excuse to enjoy a self-indulgent day, lying on the couch and alternating
between the afternoon talk-shows and a Regency period romance from the library. And although it was obvious from page two that Sybil, the youthful heroine, would end up in the arms of the tall, swarthy and masterful Duke of Birchester, its undemanding predictability was just what Mattie wanted.

The rain eased off in the late afternoon and Hilda had dropped in unexpectedly, bringing a box of curtains that she claimed were just sitting in her shed gathering dust. Mattie was extremely touched, as well as thrilled with the difference they made when she hung them: white lace scrim for the kitchen, navy cotton tab-tops for the children's bedroom, dusky-pink velvet pinch-pleats for her bedroom and a pair of lovely green and burgundy striped drapes for the lounge-room that had only the slightest streaks of sun damage on the cream linings.

For the rest of that day, after Hilda had left, Mattie would glance at the curtains and warm herself with the goodwill that had brought them into her home. In fact it was like everything was turning around, and it was hard to believe that only a week ago she had felt crushed by confusion. Now she was making new friends and finding fresh directions. Even if others saw her progress as small and relatively petty, measured as it was by incidentals like curtains and party-plan, she knew that it was huge, leading her away from the past and illuminating the path ahead.

So when Hannah rang early on Saturday morning to inform Mattie that she was having morning tea with their mother, and she thought her sister should join them to explain her new living arrangements, Mattie agreed with only the slightest hesitation. After all, it was just another necessary step forward. She dressed herself carefully in flared denim jeans, black ankle boots and a black fitted shirt with three-quarter length sleeves, so that she could present herself with standards intact, if not actually improved.

Mattie's mother lived in Box Hill, in a neat white brick house she had purchased after her husband died and she decided to downsize from the rambling weatherboard that Mattie and Hannah had grown up in. It suited her perfectly – small, trim and rather dated. Hannah's Volvo hatchback was already in the concrete driveway so Mattie parked
behind it and walked up the neatly edged pathway to the front door. It opened before she could knock.

‘
There
you are.' Hannah grabbed her by the elbow and ushered her in as if Mattie had been about to attempt escape. ‘I was beginning to think you'd chickened out.'

‘God, I'm only five minutes late!' Mattie shook her sister off and glared up at her. Hannah looked even taller today, in high-heeled courts with a pair of pinstriped trousers and a cream shirt. Her long hair had been pulled back into a low, loose bun.

‘Fifteen actually,' corrected Hannah pedantically.

‘Whatever.' Mattie frowned at her back as she followed her sister into the lounge-room, where her mother was sitting on a pastel tapestry armchair and pouring tea. She was a tall woman, like Hannah, and having married relatively late, was now into her mid-seventies. Although, to Mattie, her mother had always seemed elderly, even when Mattie herself had been a child. Not just because she had been older than all the other mothers at school, but because
her
mother seemed to embrace age in a way that many other women embrace youth. So that now, when her actual age finally matched her inclinations, she seemed
right
in a way that she never had before.

And nowadays also, her frail demeanour finally seemed warranted, with her pale, powdered skin becoming more and more networked by a multitude of fine lines like treasured old parchment. Her hair, once a rich brown and her crowning glory, was now a trimmed snowy-white that was permed into crisp waves, carefully arranged to disguise its sparsity. And she wore prescription glasses all the time, a gold-rimmed pair through which her eyes were magnified, giving her a rather intense look that was largely undeserved.

Wearing dove-grey trousers and a white angora jumper, Mattie's mother presided over a circular coffee table with a pie-crust walnut top, on which was placed a tray with a trio of Royal Albert teacups, silver teapot, creamer and a small plate of chocolate biscuits. She finished pouring the tea into the third cup and then put down the teapot and beamed up at Mattie welcomingly.

‘Hello, darling. My, aren't you looking well.'

‘Hey, Mum.' Mattie crossed the room and brushed her lips against her mother's proffered cheek before flopping down onto the couch next to Hannah. Her mother passed her the cup of tea and Mattie took a sip. It was hot and strong, a deep honey colour through which the porcelain shimmered faintly.

‘How's Jake? And the children?'

‘Good thanks.' Mattie ignored the muffled cough from Hannah and put her cup and saucer down on a nearby table. ‘How about you, Mum? What have you been up to?'

‘Oh, you know me.' Mattie's mother waved a thin hand deprecatingly ‘I live a quiet life. Apart from the Lions Club, I don't get up to much. Although I did have a lovely lunch with Mrs DePosito yesterday Do you remember her? Her husband used to work with your father.'

‘Of course,' said Mattie, vaguely recalling a large and bossy woman.

‘And Hannah's Charlotte took me for a nice drive through the mountains on the weekend with her new boyfriend. A very pleasant young man. What was his name, Hannah?'

‘Nicholas,' said Hannah smugly ‘He's a lawyer.'

‘How upwardly mobile of you.' Mattie leant forward and took a biscuit.

‘I'll give you his card, it may come in handy'

‘I doubt that.' Mattie gave Hannah an even look and then turned back to her mother. ‘I'll have to bring Max and Courtney around soon. You haven't seen them for ages.'

‘That
would
be nice. How are they?'

‘Good. Very good. Max is reading chapter books now and Courtney's made heaps of new friends at school. She loves it.'

‘Make sure you ring me first, and I'll get some cola and sweets.'

‘Okay.' Mattie picked up her tea and sat back as she drank it. Hannah began chatting to their mother about her daughter's exploits at university and Mattie relaxed, pleased at not having to contribute. It was always like this when she visited her mother, as if their worlds were so far apart it was difficult to find any middle ground. And it was a shame, especially as they'd grown quite close during the week that Mattie had spent here last year, only to fall back into established patterns as soon as she returned home.

The situation was hampered by her mother's complete inability to comprehend anything that fell too far outside her own experience. She had led a sheltered, rather privileged life, where coasters and thankyou notes assumed a disproportionate importance, and issues like crime and destitution were largely ignored. Etiquette and the ‘done thing' provided a foundation that made her feel secure, and Mattie knew, without a shadow of doubt, that if she suddenly asked her mother about the latest government scandal or the war in Iraq, she would be faced with a bewildered expression as she desperately tried to dredge up something polite to say in return. It wasn't so much shallowness as a profound ignorance that led her to see everybody else as having the same opportunities, and living by the same rules, as she herself. Those who didn't make the most of these opportunities, or who failed to follow the rules, must surely then have only themselves to blame.

‘So what do you think of that, Mattie?'

‘What?' asked Mattie, turning to Hannah in some confusion.

‘I was just
commenting
,' said Hannah pointedly, with a glance at her mother, ‘that Charlotte's twenty-first is at the end of next year. Would you like me to write the date down so that you have enough notice?'

‘Of course not.' Mattie gave her a level look.

‘Well, I know how much you avoid family functions.
My
family functions anyway'

‘Girls,' said their mother, clicking her tongue in annoyance.

‘Speaking of functions,' said Mattie smoothly, ‘I'm having a little something myself a fortnight from today. Party-plan, but it'll be good – pottery and knick-knacks and stuff.'

Hannah raised her eyebrows. ‘
You're
having a little something?'

‘Lovely,' Mattie's mother beamed. ‘Such fun. Do you want me to bring anything?'

‘No, all taken care of.'

‘What address?' asked Hannah, with a small smile.

‘You know,' replied Mattie, glowering at her sister.

‘Of course she does,' said their mother, taking the lid off the teapot and peering inside. ‘I think I might boil the kettle up, girls. Back in a minute.'

‘No, before you go, Mum –' Mattie put up a hand to stop her mother rising – ‘there's something I want to tell you.'

‘Tell
me
, darling?'

‘Yes. About Jake and me. It's not that big a deal – just that we've decided to take a break for a while, that's all.'

‘Oh, how lovely.'

‘Pardon?'

‘Your break.' Mattie's mother nodded, obviously pleased. ‘You deserve it, especially Jake. He works so hard.'

Hannah shook her head. ‘You've got it wrong. It's not a holiday, it's a –'

‘Thanks, Hannah,' Mattie interrupted crossly. ‘I can take it from here.'

Hannah sniffed, leaning back in her chair pointedly. ‘Only trying to help.'

‘I'm afraid I don't understand.' Their mother looked from one daughter to the other. ‘What are you trying to tell me, Mattie? That you're having
separate
holidays?'

‘No, that's not it,' Mattie said through clenched teeth. She took a deep breath and continued before she could be interrupted again. ‘It's like this. Jake and I have been having a few . . . well,
differences
lately, and we've decided to take a break from each
other
. As in, I've moved out of the house and rented a unit about ten minutes away from the kids' school. But listen,' Mattie hastened ahead as her mother's face fell, ‘it's only for twelve months or so, just till we sort out stuff. It's a trial thing. To give us space.'

‘To give you
space
?' repeated Mattie's mother, in a style reminiscent of Mattie's own. ‘But why would you want space, darling? You're married!'

‘What difference does that make?' asked Hannah rhetorically as she undid her bun and ran her fingers through her hair, examining the ends pensively.

Mattie ignored her. ‘It's really not that big a deal, Mum. Just that we haven't been as
happy
lately and this will give us a chance to work it all out.'

‘I don't quite understand.' Mattie's mother stared down at her wedding ring and then rotated it around her finger several times, the loose skin pouching and creasing around the gold. Finally she spoke. ‘I thought you sorted everything out last year, when you came here for a week. Wasn't that what happened?'

‘Well, we tried to. That is, I
thought
we had, but . . .'

‘And you've rented a
unit
?' She let go of the wedding ring and looked at Mattie with incomprehension, her eyes huge behind the glasses. ‘But you're
married
. Married people don't rent units apart from each other. How can you discuss anything if you're not together?'

‘We can try,' said Mattie feebly.

When Mattie didn't elaborate, her mother rose stiffly to her feet and picked up the teapot. ‘I can't fathom any of this, but I'm quite confident that you and Jake will work everything out. Now I'm going to put the kettle on.'

Mattie watched her leave the room and then turned to her sister furiously. ‘Thanks a lot for your help.'

‘What did you want
me
to say?' asked Hannah, abandoning her hair in surprise.

‘I don't know! Something!'

‘But, Mattie,
I
don't understand.' Hannah shook her head. ‘How can I help you explain something that I don't even understand myself?'

‘You could try trusting me,' said Mattie bitterly. ‘That I might know what I'm doing.'

They stared at each other for a few long moments and then Hannah dropped her eyes, reaching behind and refastening her hair into a loose ponytail that she then doubled back through the hair-tie. Mattie watched, waiting for her to finish and say something, but she didn't. Instead, as soon as her hair was in place, she reached forward and picked up her cup of tea, making a show of taking a sip and then putting the cup back onto the saucer. Seconds slid into minutes as their mother stayed in the kitchen and Hannah drank her tea wordlessly. The message was clear: Mattie was on her own.

 

T
hey had their first real holiday when Courtney was two years old. Although there had been brief getaways before – weekends in the snow, camping trips to the country, even a night on a houseboat once – they'd never had anything on this scale before. In his inimitable style, Jake started planning as soon as it became clear that the baby was going to pull through. Stringent budgeting, currency converters and brochures spread across the coffee table, maps Blu-tacked to the walls
.

They went to Hong Kong. Ten days of living with room service and restaurants, grandiose views and heady extravagance. Their beds were made, their laundry done, their bodies massaged. Each day they piled the children into a huge double pusher and set off to explore, whether it was taking a harbour cruise, visiting the touristy destinations, or just shopping at the crowded and colourful plazas. It was a wonderful, exhilarating experience that would have been perfect but for one thing
.