In the Shadow of Satellites (12 page)

The anger that I had woken up with was gone, which was just as well because I had nowhere to direct it anymore. I was still a bit light-headed, but I didn’t tell Luke that. He had spent the day with me, though he barely knew me, because he was worried. I felt unworthy of such a gesture, especially considering my behaviour towards him. He must think I’m crazy. I would, if the situation was reversed. The other thing that niggled me was that he never once asked me anything personal. It was as if he didn’t care, or that it didn’t matter. The former seemed unlikely, considering his behaviour. The latter was what confused me.

I can’t be bothered going for a walk this morning. I justify it by telling myself that it doesn’t really matter because it’s Friday, so Ana is due this afternoon and I have fewer hours to kill anyway. But really, it’s because I don’t want to risk bumping into Luke. I still feel awkward about what happened yesterday and I feel like I have a debt to repay, a penance to work off to the universe, for such a lapse in self-control.

After my morning coffee I walk down to the lake while the sun is still rising, and I release my candle-lit boat out into the water. As it makes its way slowly towards the sun, I hear Kieran’s voice.

“Mumma!”

His face swims before me, dark curls sticking to his forehead as he reaches for me with sleepy eyes from his cot. God, what I would give to just hold him again. I love how he smelled, how soft his hair was as I rested my chin on top of it. That sweet smell of sleep, wafting over me, working its way into my heart and lodging itself in my memories, where I hope I’ll be able to hold onto it forever.

I hope.

I trudge out of the lake and across the lawn to the cottage. I like my routine. I like how it grounds me, keeping one foot in the present and one in the past. Everything in its place. But sometimes, like today, it feels like it’s dragging me backwards too, and that scares me. I came from that place, and it was a struggle. It took more out of me than I realised, looking back. I don’t want to go back there again. I’m walking a thin line, but it’s all I have.

Sitting at my small dining table later, I stare at the blank page in front of me. I was going to write today, but I can’t focus on what to write about. That scares me too. The reason I write is so I won’t forget. Is not being able to focus the same as forgetting? God, I hope not. It’s a temporary glitch. It has to be. I have so many thoughts in my head, so many memories to get out, I can’t filter through to find just one. I close the notebook and put it back in the pile with its sisters.

“Mumma!”

My heart stops. It’s like he’s here, in the same room with me. Is he scared I’m forgetting him? Does he feel the same fear I do? I want to reassure him, let him know he’s still safe. I grab the notebook again and flip to a blank page. I can’t hold him anymore, but I can do this for him.

I begin to write about how he smells and the way he reaches for me first thing in the morning. It’s the least I can do, for both of us. I like to think it’s helping.

I spend the rest of the day either reading or cleaning the cottage for Ana’s impending arrival. As I head out over the lake later that afternoon to meet her, I can’t help but glance Luke’s way. He hears the boat and turns, raising his hand in greeting. From this safe distance I wave back, but even that has my heart racing.

Ana is her usual bubbly self when I meet her at the café, and she has her usual couple of bags of groceries with her. She doesn’t say anything about my quieter-than-usual mood, but then I guess she’s as used to riding the tide of my moods as I am these days.

“He’s not there,” she says above the noise of the engine as we get closer to the cottage.

“What?”

“Luke. He’s not there, I can’t see him.”

I look over and she’s right, he’s not.

“Maybe he went for a walk,” I say. “Sometimes he walks the track. I’ve met him there a couple of times.”

“Strange time of day to do it. It’s absolutely roasting.”

She’s right, it is, and as we pull in beside the jetty to tie the boat up, I can’t stop thinking about him. He’s over there by himself. His shoulder was bothering him. Maybe something happened?

“Do you think we should check on him?” she asks, reading my mind.

As much as I would rather not, I can’t say that without explaining what happened yesterday. I really don’t want to worry her. It’s a fine line.

“I’m sure he’s okay,” I say instead. “But maybe we could go over later.”

“Yeah, actually that would be good. I have something for him.”

She smiles at me sweetly.

“What kind of something?”

“Never you mind,” she says, grabbing her overnight bag and a bag of groceries and climbing out of the boat. “Just something I saw the other day that I thought he might like. Can you grab that other bag?”

The bag I obediently pick up is clinking, so I know it’s probably wine, which is good. I need it, after the past couple of days.

We make our way over the grass towards the cottage.

“Hey, is that Luke’s dog?”

I look up, readjusting the bag in my hand. Geezer is sitting on the deck, watching us.

“Yeah, it is.”

“That’s weird.”

“Actually, not so weird. He came around the other day as well, stayed half the morning. I had to take him home because he didn’t seem in any hurry to leave.”

I don’t tell her that he was over here with Luke yesterday as well.

“Aw, cute,” she grins, as we make our way up the steps onto the deck. “It’s funny – I never figured you for a dog lover.”

“I’m not. I mean I wasn’t, before. Geezer’s a good boy though, aren’t you?” I lean down to give his head a good scratch and he stares up at me with those big brown eyes. “He seems to like coming over to visit. And I think he knows I have treats for him.”

She laughs as we make our way into the kitchen, Geezer at our heels. He sits at the doorway and waits patiently as we unpack the groceries, taking the dog biscuits I offer without hesitation. For a big dog, he takes his food from my hand very gently. Someone has trained him well.

I pour us both a glass of wine and Geezer follows us out onto the deck, lying down beside my chair.

“Looks like you have a new fan,” Ana smiles.

I’m glad she’s here. Between her and Geezer, I’m trying really hard to forget about yesterday’s meltdown. Sitting in the sun, hiding behind sunglasses and one of Nanna’s floppy straw hats, the conversation turns to Chris.

“Have you heard from him?” I ask.

“Just a couple of texts. He’s doing okay. His Mum’s driving him crazy. He talked about heading back to Wellington sooner rather than later, but I don’t know. You know him. We’ll just have to wait and see. He’s had a couple of good nights out with friends, so that’s good. He’ll be letting off some steam and catching up with mates.”

“Has he said what he’s going to do when he gets back down there?”

“Reckons he has a job lined up.”

He’s moving on, just like everyone else.

As the thought lights up, I’m torn. They all get to go on with their lives. I know I should want that for myself, but it still doesn’t feel right. I don’t know if it ever will. I can’t see how it can. Do they even know what a privilege it is? I want to be angry with them but I can’t. They have a choice, which is something that I don’t.

“You’re doing it again.”

I look over at Ana, who’s staring back at me from beneath her floppy red straw hat.

“What?”

“You zoned out. Do you even know when you’re doing it?”

I shrug.

“I’m not sure,” I hedge, because I know outright lying is wrong.

She turns towards me a little more, and I can tell this conversation isn’t going to go away this time.

“Where do you go, when you do that?”

I can see myself in the reflection of her sunglasses. I don’t even look like me. Yellow straw hat with a huge brim, large sunglasses covering half my face, pale lips. At what point did I disappear and become this woman, the woman who zones in and out of conversations with startling regularity? The woman who hides?

“Nowhere. I don’t go anywhere.”

She regards me carefully through the polarised lenses. I can’t see her eyes, but I know.

“Yes you do,” she says finally. “Tell me. I won’t judge, you know I won’t.”

I sigh, because I know she won’t, but it hurts just the same to say it out loud. It’s like writing down my failings in private, only to have them tattooed on my face.

“It’s just, y’know. Thinking about stuff. About James, and Kieran. About what we used to have, how life used to be… before.”

I suck in a deep breath and turn away from her, looking out over the lake instead. My heart hurts so much that it radiates pain throughout my body. I feel so heavy and so light at the same time, like I’ll just float away into insignificance unless I tie myself down. The strings I use to do that lead straight back to James and Kieran. Without them, I’m lost.

“I can’t begin to understand,” she says gently. “How could I? I haven’t lost anyone like that. I don’t blame you for wanting to live more in the past than the present – I think I’d probably do the same. It was a happier time, somewhere you felt safe.”

I nod, but I still can’t look at her.

“But you can’t stay there, babe. Even if it’s a little bit at a time, you have to keep moving forward. I’m not saying giant leaps, but just tiny steps. Inch forward if you have to, but keep moving. There’s a place where you can hold on to your memories without letting them pull you under. You just have to look for it.”

***

We’re on our second bottle of wine when Luke appears. I’m in the kitchen throwing together a salad when I hear his voice. I freeze, my heart racing. I don’t want him telling Ana about yesterday. I don’t want to have her see, yet again, how much of a mess I am. I can hear them talking about Geezer, and then she tells him she has something for him.

She comes into the living room, on her way through to her bedroom.

“Luke’s here.”

As if I didn’t already know. I take a deep breath and put the salad into the fridge. When I turn around, he’s standing in the kitchen doorway.

“Hey.”

He’s smiling, as if yesterday never happened – for him anyway. I’m not sure quite how to react to that. It’s still far too fresh in my mind.

“Hi.”

“Nice hat.”

“Thanks. Did you come to collect your dog?”

I lean with my back against the kitchen bench, trying to look as casual as he does, despite the fact that every fibre of my being is on high alert now.

“Something like that.” His smile fades. “How are you?”

“I’m fine. You?”

“I’m good.”

I don’t want to talk about yesterday. I don’t want to give him the opportunity to either, considering that Ana is only in the other room, still digging around for the mystery gift.

“We were worried about you,” I say.

“Really? Why’s that?”

“We couldn’t see you, when we were coming back in.”

“Oh,” he nods. “Right. I was in the tent, doing some paperwork. I need to go back into town sometime during the next couple of weeks for more building supplies. Have to figure out what I need and what the boat can handle. It’s a delicate balancing act.”

It’s my turn to nod and then thankfully, Ana appears behind him, grinning.

“Here you go,” she says to him. “Happy birthday, Merry Christmas and all that. I spotted these in town and thought you might like them. Don’t laugh – they’re pretty naff.”

He turns and takes the offered paper bag from her.

“Naff?”

“Yeah, y’know – dumb. It’s a novelty thing, don’t get all excited. It’s not like you have to name your first-born after me or anything.”

She’s still grinning, and my curiosity is piqued. She hasn’t told me what’s in the bag, but I know her. This should be good.

He turns around, heading for the small table, and we both follow him.

“I just couldn’t resist,” she says.

“Do I need to establish a safe perimeter before I open this?” he asks, holding it up to listen to it, as if it’s a ticking bomb. “Any special equipment required?”

“Only if you consider a sense of humour to be ‘special equipment’.”

He smiles at that, teeth flashing. Then he sets the paper bag down on the table and rips open the end, peering inside.

“Be careful,” she urges. “Part of it is fragile.”

“The plot thickens,” he murmurs, reaching inside.

He pulls out a mug first, emblazoned with the American flag.

“Very cool,” he says, grinning up at her. “Thanks.”

I look over at her and she’s like a kid at Christmas.

“There’s more,” she says, practically bouncing.

He pulls out two pieces of cloth, unfolding each one.

“It’s a tea-towel,” she says, stating the obvious. “It lists all the US states. It’s second-hand, but I washed it and stuff. It’s clean, it’s just not new. I found them both at this op-shop in town.”

“That’s pretty cool actually. What’s this?”

He unwraps the other piece of cloth, and I can see it’s a pillow-case, red, white and blue, with an eagle on it. His smile widens.

“Another op-shop find?”

“Yep. Cool huh? Thought you might like a taste of home.”

He’s considerably impressed, I can tell, his smile widening as he goes over to give her a hug.

“Thanks, Ana, seriously. Really thoughtful of you.”

She looks both embarrassed and flushed as she stands up on tiptoes to hug him back.

“You’re welcome. I just saw them and thought of you. It’s not like I spent a fortune.”

“It’s not how much they cost that matters,” he says, releasing her.

It’s one of those moments where the universe seems to be so much in sync, it fills your heart with a kind of cosmic helium.

He turns to pick up his mug again, admiring it, and I link my arm through Ana’s, resting my head on her shoulder. She really is one in a million.

“Let’s test it,” she says, squeezing my arm. “I brought some beer with me. You can have one, if you drink it from your mug. Up for that?”

His gaze flicks to me briefly, as if asking permission.

“Seems reasonable,” I smile, reassuring him. “Let’s call it a test drive.”