Hello from the Gillespies (39 page)

Just after one a.m., Genevieve was woken by Victoria’s urgent whispers beside her.

‘Genevieve, wake up. Please, wake up.’

‘What is it?’

‘I need you. Something’s happening.’

They went into the bathroom together. Victoria spoke in a low voice, then showed her. Blood.

‘Does it mean something’s wrong? Am I having a miscarriage? What can I do? Can I stop it?’

‘I don’t know. Victoria, I’m so sorry, I don’t know.’

‘Can you look it up on the computer for me? Please? I don’t want to go into the Hawker hospital. I’ll know too many people there. There must be something I can do, lie down or something? Please, Genevieve, quickly.’

‘Come back to bed. Lie down. I’ll find out what I can.’

As she helped her sister back to her bedroom, they saw there was a light in the guestroom.

They didn’t need to ask each other. Genevieve tapped on the door.

‘Come in,’ a voice called.

Angela was sitting up in bed, holding her camera, looking through her photos. ‘Girls? Is everything all right?’

‘No,’ Genevieve said. ‘Angela, we need you.’

Angela and Genevieve stayed with Victoria throughout the night, urging her to hang on, urging the baby to hang on. But it didn’t help. The blood kept coming. They rang Joan as the sun was coming up. She was there before eight a.m. She was not just a former nurse. She’d had two miscarriages, she told them. She was so sorry, but yes, it looked like that’s what had happened.

Victoria couldn’t stop crying. ‘Don’t say it’s for the best. Don’t say it, please,’ she cried into Genevieve’s shoulder. ‘I wanted it. I really wanted it.’

‘I know you did.’ Genevieve held her sister tight. ‘I know. I did too.’

There were whispered conversations between them all. Lindy and Celia were told the truth. Ig was simply told that Victoria wasn’t well. They decided they would explain it to him more fully when there was more time. Other plans were made. Victoria had been due to go to Adelaide to collect Nick from the airport that day. His flight was due in at four p.m. Joan was now going to drive, but would bring Victoria with her. The bleeding had stopped but she needed to see a doctor. Joan knew a good women’s clinic in Adelaide. They could go straight there, before the airport. Genevieve wanted to go with them. She’d heard from Matt that he was coming today but she’d email him, she told Victoria. Or try to get him on his phone. Tell him she was sorry, but she wouldn’t be on Errigal today after all.

Victoria wouldn’t let her. ‘Joan will take care of me. Please stay here. I want you to see him.’

Angela wanted to go with them to Adelaide too. She had been so attentive to Victoria all night long. She’d even held Victoria in her arms as Victoria cried.

Genevieve had only had a brief opportunity to fill Joan in on Angela’s condition, about the snippets of memory that seemed to be returning. But she didn’t think it was a good idea for Angela to be at the airport to meet Nick. Or to leave Errigal yet. She shook her head. Joan took her cue.

‘I don’t think so, Angela,’ Joan said. ‘Not this trip. Next time.’

Angela accepted the decision, they were relieved to see.

By ten o’clock, Joan and Victoria were ready to leave. Genevieve held her twin close. She didn’t need to say anything. Victoria knew how she felt and what she wanted to say.

Angela had just returned to her room and was straightening her bedcovers when there was a knock at her door. It was Celia.

‘Poor Victoria,’ Celia said. ‘It’s probably for the best, but of course she won’t see it like that yet.’

‘No,’ Angela said, continuing to make her bed.

‘They woke you in the night, I believe.’

‘Yes, they did.’

Celia stayed, as if she were waiting for Angela to say something else.

Angela stayed silent.

‘Did you get the folder I left you?’ Celia said. ‘The letters?’

‘I did, thank you,’ Angela said.

Again, Celia waited. Angela continued tidying her room, hanging up a dress in the wardrobe.

‘Interesting reading, I hope?’ Celia said.

‘Very interesting, thank you. If you’ll excuse me, I need to go and find Ig.’

‘Of course.’ Celia stepped aside.

Angela made a point of closing the door tightly.

Lindy was following Genevieve around the house. She had stopped crying about Richard. She had asked dozens of questions about Victoria. She was now asking about Nick.

‘He must have said something else about the Gillespie reunion,’ she said. ‘Is it definitely going ahead? I’m not going to keep sewing two hundred cushions if it’s not, I’ll tell you that for nothing.’

‘Why not? If Dad decides not to hold it, you’ll still have handy Christmas presents for the rest of us. For the next fifty years.’

‘You’re no help. And thanks for all the sympathy about Richard, by the way. Not. If it were Victoria that had happened to, you’d be all over her, wouldn’t you? But not me —’

Genevieve lost her temper. ‘Victoria just had a miscarriage, Lindy. Have you happened to forget that? She lost her baby. I think that might be a little bit more important than your alleged boyfriend jumping into bed with your evil nemesis, don’t you? And if you don’t mind me saying, I never liked him anyway. He was spineless. He was nearly in tears when you had to leave him alone the night Mum had her accident. And anyone could see he was terrified of Horrible Jane. Who wants a boyfriend like that?’

‘He was not! He told me she was really bossy and that she was jealous of all of us, and of me.’

‘So he was a gossip as well as spineless. You’re better off without him. You’re too good for him.’

Lindy hesitated, as if trying to decide whether she was being insulted or praised. ‘Do you mean that?’

‘Of course I mean it. You’re a catch, Lindy. When you’re not feeling sorry for yourself, you’re smart and funny. You’re cute. I’d get rid of the ponytails myself, but what do I know? I’ve only been a hairdresser for fourteen years.’

Lindy tugged at one of the ponytails. ‘Do you really think so? I read an article that said lots of women use a break-up as the chance to give themselves a new look. Should I do that? Would you cut my hair now?’

Genevieve briefly closed her eyes and prayed for patience.

An hour later, she had turned Lindy’s long straight locks into a very becoming bob. Lindy was thrilled. She got Genevieve to take photos of it from all angles to email to her friends in Melbourne.

‘Should I email it to Horrible Jane and Richard too?’ she said. ‘Show them that I’ve moved on?’

‘It
has
only been a day since you found out about them,’ Genevieve said. ‘Maybe wait a bit.’

Ig came in from the shed. He had green paint on his cheek and white paint on his hands. He stopped and looked at Lindy.

‘That looks great. You look really pretty.’

She gave him a suspicious glance. ‘Do you mean that? Because I think Genevieve bribed you to say that last time.’

‘She did last time. I did it for free this time. You look good.’

Lindy kissed him and Genevieve and then nearly skipped down the hall to the office.

Genevieve started sweeping up the hair and putting her scissors and combs away in her bag. Ig washed his hands and then started getting the makings of a sandwich out of the fridge.

‘It’s only eleven o’clock, Ig. A bit early for lunch, isn’t it?’

‘We’ve already eaten our morning tea. We’re hungry again.’

‘You and Angela are getting on pretty well out there, are you?’

He nodded.

‘Does Robbie like her too?’

‘Yep,’ he said.

‘You okay, Ig?’

‘Yes, thanks.’

‘Can I come and see the shed yet?’

‘No.’

‘Not even a peek?’

‘No.’

‘What do you and Angela talk about all the time?’

‘Stuff.’

‘Ig, has she said anything to you that might make you think she is starting to remember things?’

He stopped midway through buttering the bread. ‘Why?’

‘Last night, with Victoria, when she wasn’t well —’ She stopped. ‘I just wondered. There were a few times when it felt like she was Old Angela, not New Angela. You haven’t noticed anything, have you?’

‘No,’ he said. He didn’t turn around, just kept putting the cheese on the bread.

An hour later, he was back again for more biscuits. It was afternoon tea time, he said.

‘Are you two doing anything out there except eat?’ Genevieve asked from her spot at the table. She was going through recipe books, trying to find something she could actually cook.

‘We’re working hard. It’s giving us appetites.’ He pulled the chair over to the pantry, climbed up, got the biscuit barrel that was supposed to be out of his reach, took a handful and climbed down.

‘Are you nervous about your friend coming today?’ he asked, as he pushed the chair back.

‘Of course not.’

‘Then why do you keep walking out to the gate? Every five minutes. We’ve been timing you.’

‘Exercise,’ Genevieve said.

‘Do you love this guy? Are you going to marry him?’

‘Don’t be cheeky. And if you say anything like that in front of him, I’ll kill you.’

‘I’m being curious, not cheeky. You told me it’s good to be curious.’

‘It’s a thin line.’

‘So are you in love with him?’

‘I hardly know him. But yes, I like him a lot. Why, what’s with all the questions?’

‘Because he’s nearly here. There’s a car coming.’

‘
What?
’ She ran to the window. There was a dust cloud moving up the road towards them. Less than seven minutes away. ‘Why didn’t you tell me?’

Genevieve ran from the kitchen to the bathroom. She checked her hair. Her make-up. Her clothes. Checked her teeth for spinach, even though she hadn’t had any spinach. She sprayed some perfume on her wrists and under her ears, then thought that was too much for this time of the day and tried to scrub it off. She now had four red marks instead. She tried to cover them with foundation, and only managed to smear it everywhere. She washed it all off and ran back to the kitchen, just as a four-wheel drive pulled up in front of the homestead.

It was actually him. Coffee Guy. Matt. The man she had been emailing. The man she had last seen in her tiny flat in New York, after a night of the best sex and laughs she’d had in years. He was now getting out of his car and standing in front of her family house in outback South Australia.

She wanted to run to him. Then she thought that looked too eager and she slowed to a walk. Then she remembered he had just driven three hundred kilometres to see her. That deserved a run.

She hadn’t thought about how she would greet him. Whether they would shake hands. Whether she would play it cool. In the end, she did neither. She saw him there, smiling at her, and she hugged him. He hugged her back. He smelt of aftershave and coffee and sweat, and if she hadn’t known for a fact that Angela and Ig were peeking out from behind the woolshed, she would have kissed him right there and then. Possibly taken him straight into her bedroom.

‘Hi,’ she said. ‘Fancy seeing you here.’

‘Hi,’ he said. ‘I was just passing by and thought I’d drop in.’

It was as easy as that between them, as instant as that. She brought him inside, made him coffee. They took it out onto the verandah. There was so much to talk about, questions back and forth, quick jokes, tales from his film set. Even a mention of his brother. A joke from Genevieve about that.

One by one, her family appeared. First Lindy, who too obviously gave Genevieve a big thumbs up. Celia greeted him as if she were the lady of the manor, welcoming him to Errigal and then returning inside again. Angela was friendly but distracted. Genevieve had told Matt in her emails about her mother’s situation. Just in time, she stopped herself from introducing Angela as her mother. Instead, she described her as a guest.

‘A paint-covered guest at that,’ Angela said, holding up whitewash-covered hands. ‘Excuse me, won’t you?’

Ig was last to appear. Genevieve made the introductions. He and Matt solemnly shook hands.

‘Are you really from America?’ Ig asked.

‘I really am,’ Matt said.

‘Are you really making a film up here?’

‘I don’t know yet,’ Matt said. ‘I’m having a look around first.’

‘It’s not another horrible film, is it?’ Ig said.

Matt glanced at Genevieve.

‘He means horror film,’ she said. ‘Ig was an extra in one that was filmed up here a couple of years ago. They paid him ten dollars.’

‘All I had to do was walk past the camera a few times. Like this.’ Ig demonstrated, walking back and forth in front of Genevieve and Matt.

‘Wow,’ Matt said. ‘I can see why they hired you. That’s some walk.’

Ig gave his little smile. ‘So is yours a murder film too?’

‘Not this time, no. It’s about zombie rabbits taking over the world.’

‘Seriously?’ Genevieve said. ‘It’s the one you were telling me about in New York?’

He grinned. ‘Farewell teenage vampires, hello dystopian zombie rabbits. More to the point, hello lots of zombie rabbit merchandise.’

Matt told them he’d been scouting locations further north. He was flying to Western Australia in two days’ time, to visit possible locations there too. Meeting with government officials to discuss tax incentives. A film like this was worth a lot to the local economy.

‘Why don’t you film it here?’ Ig asked. ‘You could stay with us for free.’

Matt laughed. ‘Thanks, Ig. It’s not just me. There’ll be about a hundred of us.’

‘We’ve got sleeping bags,’ Ig said. ‘Are you going to take him to Swing Hill, Genevieve? If I was a zombie rabbit, that’s where I’d live.’

‘Swing Hill?’ Matt said.

Genevieve explained.

‘There are only three swings there, though,’ Ig said. ‘Dad said he’d build me one too, but he hasn’t yet.’

‘I’ll leave you mine in my will, Ig,’ Genevieve said.

Matt said he’d like to go there. Ig was invited to join them but declined. He was busy, he told Matt.

‘But I can’t tell you what I’m doing because it’s a secret. So please don’t even ask.’

‘I won’t, I promise,’ Matt said, just as seriously.