Broken (19 page)

When they'd arrived to collect her, Mattie was relieved to see that Jake had paid some attention to what the children were wearing today Courtney, for once divested of her tutu, was in neatly pressed jeans and a pink Barbie t-shirt, while Max was in mud-brown cargo pants and a red t-shirt that featured a pop-eyed monster flexing his muscles. Jake was also in jeans, with a lightweight black suede shirt and black runners. With Mattie in her boots, flared jeans and black three-quarter shirt again, they looked like they'd dressed to coordinate, a fact that had made them both laugh when they first noticed.

They arrived in Yea just before noon, letting the rest of the traffic continue on towards Seymour and the Hume Highway while they turned right and drove down the main street and into the outskirts of the town, where Jake's parents now lived. They had moved from the rooms over the hardware store as soon as circumstances allowed. It was a ranch-style house, with a long gravel driveway and a four-car carport off to the side. Not only was the carport full, but another three
cars were parked diagonally in the grass beside the driveway under the shade of a huge willow tree. As Jake pulled in neatly beside a red 4WD, Mattie looked around at the other cars, her heart sinking as she realised this was going to be an all-out gathering.

‘Now remember your manners,' Jake instructed Max and Courtney, who were already scrambling out of the back seat. They nodded impatiently, without really listening, and took off towards the house at a run.

‘Who's here today?' Mattie slammed her door shut, still eyeing the row of cars.

‘Let's see –'Jake grabbed her hand and started walking as he glanced at the cars. ‘Mark and Sandy are here. And you remember my cousin Garth, Aunt Dolly's eldest? And Frank and Dana. I told you they've moved back home while they're building, didn't I?'

‘I think so . . .' Mattie's voice trailed off as they reached the veranda that spanned the wide frontage of the house. Numerous voices could now be heard coming from within. Max and Courtney had already gone inside, slamming the wooden screen door behind them. The force of the slam had bounced it open again and Jake stepped forward to grab it, putting one hand on the small of Mattie's back so that she preceded him into the house. Immediately, a small blond boy came racing through an archway to the right and cannoned straight into her knees, the force of the impact sending him sprawling backwards. He immediately began to howl noisily and Mattie, rather embarrassed, bobbed down to try and comfort him.

‘Are you okay?'

‘Of
course
he's okay. Aren't you, mate?' said Jake jovially as the boy ignored them both, knuckling his eyes roughly as his sobs increased in intensity. A young woman with long blonde hair hooked up in an elaborate waterfall hairdo came bustling in, giving them both an accusatory glance before she gathered the boy up into her arms.

‘What's all the commotion?' Jake's eldest sister, Dana, leant around the doorway and examined the scene. ‘Are you two beating up on the children already?'

‘Something like that.' Jake gave the small boy, who was now sobbing wetly against his mother's shoulder, a rather disparaging look and then
dismissed him, turning to his sister. ‘How's things, Dana? How's your tribe?'

‘Surviving. Saw your two burst through here a minute ago. Hey, Mattie. How're you? Love the matching outfits.'

‘I'm fine, thanks.' Mattie smiled at her sister-in-law distractedly, being more concerned with any damage the boy might have sustained. She put a hand on his mother's arm. ‘Is he all right?'

‘Obviously not,' snapped the young woman, pulling away crossly.

‘Calm down, Tracey' said Dana with some amusement. ‘It was just an accident.'

‘Well, people should look where they're going,' muttered Tracey as she carried her son up the passage towards the kitchen.

‘And other people should be watching their kids,' Jake called after her. He glanced at Dana. ‘Who the hell's she?'

‘Garth's latest. A proper pain. But apparently they're engaged. Come on in, you two.'

Mattie followed Jake into the lounge-room, an enormous rectangular room that ran along the front of the house, looking out over the driveway. In typical Hampton fashion, the room was full of men watching an Australian Rules football match on television, with the volume turned up loud, and Mattie immediately felt intimidated by the overwhelming
maleness
of the atmosphere. Several of them called out raucous greetings as she and Jake entered. Mattie smiled and gave a general wave as Jake did the rounds, pumping hands and clapping some of the men on the back.

Mattie recognised Dana's husband, Frank, a large bear of a man with frizzy ginger hair that sprang up and away from his head as if permanently charged with static electricity. He was leaning back in the corner of the L-shaped modular lounge-suite, both arms stretched across the top of the couch. Next to him was Mark, a thin, sharp-featured young man who had been living with Jake's youngest sister, Sandy, for the past five or six years. On the other side was cousin Garth, tall, dark-haired and rather good-looking, like the rest of the Hamptons.

Behind the couch and leaning across next to his father was Dana's eldest son Mitchell, a lanky teenager who, whenever Mattie saw him
anyway, never seemed to utter a word. And sprawled across the floor in front of the television was a younger teenager who Mattie identified as Joshua, the son of Lisa, the second eldest sister.

The last occupant of the room was also the one who drew the most attention, even without speaking. Sitting regally in his Jason recliner, which was positioned so that he could see the television and both doors leading from the lounge-room, Jake's father always reminded Mattie of an aging but still dominant lion, regally surveying his pride. He was a man who revelled in his patriarchal role, which was enhanced by the fact that most of his family also worked for him. He looked much like Jake would in another forty years, with sparse dark grey hair carefully combed over his bald pate and grooves either side of his mouth so deep that they gave his cheeks the loose, jowly look of an aging bulldog.

‘Good to see you, son,' Bill Hampton rose slightly as he shook his son's hand and grasped his shoulder affectionately.

‘You too, Dad. How are you?'

‘Fit as a Mallee bull.' Bill let go of Jake and turned to Mattie with a smile. ‘And how's your beautiful wife? You're certainly looking lovely, dear.'

‘Thanks, Bill.' Mattie leant forward and kissed her father-in-law on the cheek.

‘We're watching the exhibition match – 'pies against the Blues. Find a seat.' Bill waved towards the couch and Frank drew himself in a bit to make room. At the same time the voice of the commentator rose excitedly and everybody's eyes automatically focused on the unfolding action, even the teenagers becoming somewhat animated. On the television, a knot of football players fought furiously over the ball in front of the goalposts and then suddenly one player broke free and swivelkicked the ball towards the goal. The commentator became almost hysterical as it sailed through the posts.

‘You little beauty!' Garth jumped up, pumping his fist in the air.

‘How'd you like
that?'
Frank chortled happily.

‘I'd have liked it even better if I could've seen it,' complained Mark, frowning crossly at Jake. ‘Your father wasn't a glassblower, mate, so sit down!'

‘I'll just say hi to Mum first.'Jake, not fazed in the least by the criticism, grinned genially at his relatives and, grabbing Mattie's hand, crossed the room towards the kitchen doorway. On the way, he squeezed her fingers and smiled down at her. Mattie felt soothed by the certain knowledge that he was trying to reassure her, as he knew full well how out of place she felt here. He probably also realised how nervous she was in light of their separation. How would his family take it? How would they treat her? Although so far, judging by the reactions of Dana and Jake's father, things would go on as normal. Mattie fervently hoped so.

She preceded him into the kitchen and moved to the side so that he could enter as well. And it was like intruding into a different world, one that always reminded Mattie of the Chinese yin and yang symbol, the curled quotation marks that represented the female and male forces of life. Here, in the kitchen, was the yin that complemented the yang of the lounge-room, and together the two made up the Hamptons' existence.

The kitchen, a huge square room, was wholly female. Cooking, cleaning, preparing, bustling, with a steady humming conversation that was picked up by one the instant it was dropped by another. Like a continual game of Chinese whispers, but without the secrecy. Dana stood at the stove, stirring a huge saucepan of thick brown gravy, and Sandy, the youngest sister, sat at the table, using a pair of long-handled tongs to turn dozens of roast potatoes and pumpkin and parsnip wedges in two large electric frypans that had been set up there, no doubt to make space on the benches. The vegetables sizzled fitfully as they were turned, spitting hot bubbles of frying oil into the air. Next to her was Dana's daughter Jessica, who was rather desultorily slicing thick slivers off a cob loaf of white bread. All of the Hamptons were very similar. Deep brown hair that greyed darkly over time, dark eyes, olive skin and a slim build that, on the females, thickened as they aged. But not in an overweight way, more like a steadily reliable progression from nubility to maternity.

Tracey, having shed herself of her offspring at some stage, stood out with her blue eyes and blonde hair, albeit with an expanse of dark roots. She was positioned at the far end of the kitchen bench, counting cutlery as she took it out of a drawer and piled it on the counter. And everywhere at once, but seemingly without any rush, was Jake's mother, a
sturdy woman in her mid-sixties whose pewter-grey hair was the colour, and texture, of steel wool.

‘Hey there, Mum.' Jake let go of Mattie and crossed the room to his mother, enveloping her in an expansive hug and lifting her off the ground.

‘Put me down, you horrible boy!' Lorna Hampton flapped a tea-towel at him, her pretence of crossness doing nothing to disguise her obvious delight.

‘As soon as I get a kiss.' Jake, still holding his mother aloft, offered his cheek.

‘If I have to.' Lorna rolled her eyes and then kissed her son, lightly, on the cheek. ‘Now put me down!'

‘If you insist.' Jake lowered her gently and grinned down at her. ‘Have you lost weight? You're as light as a feather.'

‘Maybe a bit.' Lorna, flushed with pleasure, whipped him around the legs with the tea-towel. ‘Now get out of here, you big nuisance, or lunch'll be spoiled.'

‘Okay okay' Jake turned to Mattie. ‘Do you want to stay here, or . . .'

‘Mattie, love!' Lorna came over to where Mattie was still standing, against the wall, and kissed her as well. ‘I didn't see you hiding over here!'

‘Hi, Mattie,' called Sandy, waving the tongs cheerfully.

‘Hello, Mattie,' said Jessica, rather shyly.

‘Hi, everyone.' Mattie smiled with relief as her knot of nervousness started to break up at their wholehearted welcome. She turned to speak to Jake. ‘I'll stay here and help. You go watch TV.'

He nodded appreciatively and grabbed her hand briefly, squeezing it again before making his escape back to the lounge-room where, judging by the noisy celebration, another goal had just been scored. Mattie looked over at Lorna, who'd already returned to her preparations and was pulling on a pair of chequered oven mitts.

‘What can I do, Lorna?'

‘Um, let's see . . .' Lorna bobbed down by Dana, opening the stove and pulling out a roasting pan that held an enormous piece of deep-brown roast beef. Steam curled upwards and the rich smell of the meat filled the room.

‘You can do this gravy,' offered Dana. ‘My damn hand's about to fall off.'

‘No, no.' Lorna slid the roasting pan onto the sink draining board. ‘She can help Tracey set the table. We're almost ready to go. Have you met Tracey, Mattie?'

‘Yeah, they met at the front door.' Dana grinned.

Mattie went obediently over to Tracey, who was just gathering the cutlery up into a spare tea-towel. ‘What would you like me to do?'

‘You can take these.' Tracey thrust the bundle at her. ‘We're setting up in the games room.'

Mattie hugged the cutlery against her chest and went through into the Hamptons' games room, a flat-roofed extension that jutted out from the rear of the house with a sliding door that led into the backyard. The billiard table, a huge walnut affair with six elaborately turned legs, had been covered by its table-tennis top and then two white double bed sheets to serve as tablecloths. Each side housed five places, and there were another two at either end. Nearby, two card tables had been placed end-to-end and covered with a floral plastic tablecloth for the younger children.

Mattie moved around the billiard table, setting out the cutlery neatly. Through the sliding door she could see Max and Courtney, playing with several other children on a swing set that Bill Hampton had installed many years ago for his growing number of grandchildren. Apart from the swing set, the yard itself was rather empty. Just a few trees, a couple of overgrown shrubs and, up at the far end, a set of cricket stumps. Neither Bill nor Lorna were fond of gardening, preferring an expanse of lawn that was easy to mow and maintain.

While Mattie set the table, Tracey came in and out several times, delivering salt and pepper shakers, bread plates, water jugs and glasses. Then, with Dana's help, the hot vegetables started arriving and by the time Mattie was finished, the table was covered with steaming platters of roast potatoes, pumpkin and parsnip, and blue and white Corningware bowls of peas, carrots and corn.

Dana pushed open the sliding door and put her head out. ‘Lunch is ready! Go get washed up, all of you, and move it!'