Lessons From Ducks (14 page)

Anna was amused that Helen seemed to have become the very thing she’d once despised, “If anyone can do it, Helen can.” The woman had once bought a ministerial MP to tears on TV with a vicious line of questioning; what hope did a bunch of parents have?

Frank pushed the button to unlock the car and then Anna saw him and Barbara exchange a look. She steeled herself.

“This afternoon we’re going to visit the cemetery. Will you come with us?”

Anna hated that word in this situation; visit. It implied pleasantness to the occasion that didn’t fit.

“No,” she shook her head emphatically. “Thank you, but I prefer to go on my own.”

“Are you sure?” Frank made a rare plea.

“Yes.”

He sighed and shrugged his shoulders at Barbara as if to say, ‘I tried.’

“What are you doing for dinner tomorrow night then?”

“Tomorrow?” Anna pretended to ponder the question, as if there were a possibility she had plans to consider. But no, her diary was free, the pages blankly stretched before her. She failed to think of a lie in time.

“Great,” Frank nodded, “that’s settled then. You’re dining with us. We’ll pick you up around seven.”

“Fine.” Anna accepted her fate. One evening and then it would all be over. She could handle one evening. Of course she would have to rustle up something decent to wear, she realised, as she waved them out of sight. Tights were not likely to cut it at a restaurant.

Her mood darkened by the morning’s encounter, she grabbed a fistful of creamy yellow freesia’s that had sprung up wild beside the fence and inhaled their sharp, fresh smell. The essence of summer was contained within the smooth petals; a tangy beautiful scent that spoke of long hot days and the beach. Instantly she felt her mood lift and her step lightened as she went back into the house. Pouring water into a vase and straightening out the stalks with a pair of scissors, Anna reflected on the effect a scent can have upon a person. The smell of the freesias had perfumed the air in the house and even the walls seemed to have brightened. Daphne; that was the other flower whose strong and sharp scent could instantly cheer her up and transport her to another place. Her grandmother had grown white and pink Daphne bushes abundantly in her garden. She adored the smell and the sight of them, and would have vases of the bloom on every windowsill in the summer. Her grandfather would complain that he felt like he was living in a ‘goddamn greenhouse’, but it didn’t really bother him. In fact, he would joke that it saved him money buying deodorant and aftershave for the months the Daphne invaded his house he smelt like one of the bushes himself.

Thinking about her grandparents bought up happy memories for Anna, and a contented feeling nestled smugly in her chest. But it wasn’t long before a dark finger flicked at it annoyingly. She really ought to make the effort to go and visit them one of these days. She’d avoided it in recent times because of the pain they couldn’t hide when they saw her, but she knew they could be gone at any time. Her mother had died when she was two from breast cancer, and her father followed twelve years later, only his was in the bowel. In hindsight her dad might have been saved, but he was old school; unaccustomed to talking about things like blood in his poo. So he kept quiet until the weight loss was obvious even to the postman, and by then it was too late. Anna, an only child, had lived with her grandparents until she went away to university. They were firm and loving, but forty years out of touch with raising a teenager, so it hadn’t been a particularly close relationship.

It was only when the flowers were displayed jauntily above the kitchen sink that she remembered the egg. Matt’s unannounced visit had completely thrown her morning out. She hurried to the cupboard and dug the egg out from its snug little man made nest. Phew. It still felt warm. Her shoulders relaxed. Then they tightened again. Something felt different. She took the egg out to the bright light of the kitchen and peered at it.

A crack had appeared. Tiny and jagged like a lightning bolt, it marred the smooth pristine surface of the shell. Anna’s first thought was that she had somehow broken it, and she guiltily searched her memory for an inadvertent knock against a wall or door frame or something else that might explain it.

Then she remembered that it was, in fact, an egg, and she smacked her forehead and said “idiot.”

The egg had started to hatch. Anna popped it in her bra against the heat of her skin and bit her lower lip excitedly like a small child lying awake on Christmas Eve listening for sounds from the rooftop.

Chapter eighteen

“Anna?”

“Mm?”

“The waiter asked if you were ready to order. You’ve been staring at the menu for ages.”

“Of course, sorry. Um, let me see,” she scanned the words in front of her and settled for the first one to grab her eye. “I’ll have the scallops please.”

“Very good, an excellent choice.” The waiter scribbled something on his notepad. “And for your main course?”

She hadn’t got that far yet. She took a stab in the dark. “For main I will have the chicken, thank you.”

He sighed impatiently, but being a professional he did it under his breath. “Wonderful. And which chicken would that be?”

“You have more than one chicken?” 

Another sigh, deeper. “Yes, madam. We have, in fact, four.” His tone implied that she would know this if she had taken the time to actually read the menu.

Anna couldn’t stand pretentious wait staff, and this guy was about as bad as they got. She decided to have some fun with him. Closing the sleeves of the menu she passed it back and treated him to her most winning smile. “Tell you what, I’ll have whichever one is the most popular.”

“That would be the roast chicken with smashed new potatoes and a garlicky jus.”

“Sounds delicious. Yes, I’ll have that.”

The waiter nodded, made a note, and turned to go. But before he could leave she spoke again. “Actually you know what? It’s a big decision. I’d better hear about the other chicken options.”

The waiter narrowed his eyes. He held a menu out towards her again. “I’ll leave this with madam for another five minutes, shall I?”

Anna ignored it. “No that’s alright,” she said, “you can just tell madam what they are.”

He knew she was playing with him then, but ever the professional he nodded. “Very well. He sniffed and took some glasses from his top pocket, then peered at the menu. “Option one is, as previously mentioned, roast chicken with smashed new potatoes and a garlicky jus.”

Anna’s stomach growled.

“Option two, chicken, mushroom and bacon penne pasta, sprinkled with parmesan.”

Anna disliked parmesan. The smell reminded of her sick. She screwed up her nose. “Next.”

“Option three,
madam,
is roasted chicken with asiago polenta and truffled mushrooms.”

Asiago polenta? Anna wasn’t going to order something she’d never heard of.

“And finally, option four is chicken scaloppini with sugar snap peas, asparagus and a lemon salad.”

The last one sounded summery and delicious and Anna was sorely tempted to switch her order, but the mention of smashed new potatoes had won her heart.

“Hmm,” she pretended to consider her options. “You know what; I think I’ll take the first option.”

“The roast chicken with smashed new potatoes and a garlicky jus.”

“Yes, that one.”

The waiter consulted his pad. “The same dish you ordered initially then.”

“Is it?”

He scribbled something on his pad.

“You just wrote, “spit on this ladies food’, didn’t you,” Anna asked. She heard Matt snort down a laugh.

The waiter’s top lip curled up in distaste. “Madam, I can assure you we are not that kind of establishment.”

“Good to know.”

The waiter got four steps from the table when a voice piped up. “Actually you know what, that chicken dish with the spuds sounds much nicer than what I ordered. Can you change my order to that too please?” The waiter nodded to Matt, his eyes the only outward sign of his internal feelings. He drew a heavy line on his pad. “Done,” he said, then swivelled on his heel and departed swiftly, before anyone else could change their mind and drag the process out any longer.

Barbara excused herself to go to the bathroom and Frank asked Matt a question about his work, kick-starting a conversation about the merits of an indoor versus outdoor career. Frank and Barbara had owned a dairy farm right up until a few years previously when they’d retired and sold it for a fortune. Anna watched them talk and wondered again what had possessed Matt to accept Barbara’s invitation.

When Frank and Barbara had picked her up they’d made no mention of inviting an extra guest, and even when they’d been seated at a table for four she’d just assumed it was an oversight on behalf of the restaurant. Right up until a voice behind her shoulder had cheerfully said “Sorry I’m late, I couldn’t find a clean shirt. Had to wait for this one to air out in the dryer.”

Anna had watched, confused, as Matt pulled out the fourth chair and sat down, smiling broadly around the table. His hair was freshly washed and still damp and he smelt like the inside of a pharmacy; a pleasant mix of shampoo and deodorant and aftershave.

“Evening Anna,” he’d dipped his head toward her. “Long time no see.”

When she didn’t answer he frowned. “Are you ok?”

Her confused expression gave him his answer.

“You didn’t know I was coming, did you,” he said. “Well this is awkward.”

“Don’t be silly,” Barbara had said. “There’s nothing awkward about it. Anna dear, we ran into Matt and thought, wouldn’t it be lovely if he joined us. You don’t mind do you?”

“No,” Anna finally spoke. “Not really I suppose.”

It was hardly the encouraging answer Matt had hoped for. He still didn’t know the full story behind Anna, although when he ran into her in-laws in town and they mentioned they were off to the cemetery he figured he had been right in thinking Anna was widowed. He thought it a little odd they were so keen for him to join them for dinner, but hey, if they were paying and Anna was going to be there, he was in.

“Where’s Oscar?” Anna asked.

“Oh crap,” Matt pushed out his chair and started to stand up, “I knew I forgot something.”

“You
forgot
him?”

“Relax, he’s in the car.”

“You left him in the car?” Anna was shocked, her voice rising and the people seated at a table nearby turned to see what the commotion was about.

Matt laughed and sat back down. ‘I’m joking Anna. Christ you should see your face. He’s with his mother.”

“You think that was funny? You have a very weird sense of humour,” Anna shook her head.

“So you keep telling me.”

Anna realised that Barbara was watching the exchange with a satisfied expression and wondered what had got the woman feeling so smug. Then she saw Barbara give Frank a little nudge. The woman was in match making mode, Anna realised with horror. And the inappropriateness of it all nearly made her stumble to her feet and flee the restaurant. These were her in-laws, for goodness sake. She was married to their son and they had sat forefront and centre in a sea of white chairs and watched while she declared her everlasting love to him.

Till death do us part, she had said. Didn’t that count for anything?

Oh, Anna thought. Except he
had
gone and died, hadn’t he.

That kind of made the whole thing moot.

Still, it was enough to give her a headache. She picked up her wine glass and took a large gulp, then another, which finished it off.

“Silly restaurants and their tiny serving sizes,” she muttered, not waiting for Frank to refill her glass but doing the job herself.

She took another mouthful then sighed. She hadn’t completely ruled out the prospect of a romance somewhere in her future. Sometimes she thought about it in the small hours of the night when sleep eluded her, it was only natural. But she figured that she’d know when the time was right, and that time hadn’t come yet. The thought of being with another man filled her with guilt, as if she would be being unfaithful to Tim, even though she knew it was what he wanted.

They’d discussed it once, back when they were newly married. It had been a summer’s day, hot and sticky and they’d spent the morning in the garden before the heat finally beat them and they’d called it a day, retreating to the river to spend a lazy afternoon. They swam when the mood took them in between drinking bottles of lemon flavoured beer that they placed in the river to keep cool. Laying on their backs in the long grass, her head on his stomach and their hands entwined, they’d watched as the sunset painted the sky a vivid orange and the first pinpricks of stars appeared in the sky. It was one of those moments that made you grateful to be alive.

“I love you baby,” Tim had said, stroking her hair softly with his free hand.

“I love you too.”

“No, I really mean it. I love you so much. I would die if anything ever happened to you.”

She hated talk like that. “No you wouldn’t,” she said quietly. “Don’t say things like that.”

“Sorry, I just, I want you to know I’ll always love you. Meeting you was the best thing that ever happened to me. I just want you to be happy.”

“I
am
happy. Very happy.”

“Good. Because you deserve it.”

She had sat up and swung to study his face. His eyes glinted in the dusk light and she could see his face had a serious set to it. “What’s brought all this on?”

“Nothing.” He shrugged his shoulders. “I’m just so happy with our life right now. Is it wrong to want to freeze it and keep it this way forever?”

There was a tone to his voice she hadn’t heard before. Melancholic, reflective, almost sad. “Of course not,” she squeezed herself between his legs and snuggled back in against his chest. It was her favourite place to be in the world. “You can’t though, you know that right?” she said after a few minutes.

“I know.”

“It’s only going to get better anyway, once we start our own family.”

He pretended to choke. “Kids? You want
kids
?”

“At least six.” They’d talked about it before they were married, to make sure they were on the same wavelength, and found they both agreed on the big stuff, like the number of kids they both wanted, (three, with the option of four depending on how traumatised they were by the first three,) and how they would be raised, (outdoors as much as possible and with manners and respect for people and the world around them). They’d already started trying, and even though the past two months had seen her period arrive Anna felt sure it would happen before too long.

“You’ll be a wonderful father,” she reassured him.

“Even though I’m scared shitless?”

“What are you scared of?”

“Everything. It’s such a huge responsibility. I mean, they’re totally reliant on you. Not just for the physical and financial stuff, but the emotional stuff. Look how many messed up kids there are in the world, what if we inadvertently screw ours up and they end up resenting us. They’ll only come home once a year at Christmas and only then because we’ll pay for it.”

“I think you’re getting a bit ahead of yourself.”

“Am I though? Or am I doing the sensible thing and thinking through all possible scenarios now.”

“A little of both perhaps.”

“I’ve just never been responsible for another living thing before. How do you know I’m up for the challenge?”

She’d tilted her face up to him, studied his face now bathed in blue light from the moon. “I don’t doubt it for a second.”

“I wish I had your faith.”

“You don’t need it. I’ll have faith for the both of us. Ok?”

He bent his head down and kissed her on the tip of her nose. “OK.”

“Now promise you’ll stop talking like this?”

His lips were warm and his breath a mix of citrus and yeast. “I promise. Sorry. Didn’t mean to get all morbid on you.”

But his mood remained sombre even when they returned to the house. Lying in bed that night, giggling as Anna tried to worm her feet in between his legs to warm them up and he tried his best to stop her, talk turned serious again.

“Goodnight,” she said sleepily, her hands pulling his arms tighter around her. She liked to sleep in his embrace, ensconced in the warmth from his body. What she didn’t know was that he waited until her breathing evened out and then extricated himself gently. He needed space and coolness to be able to sleep, and she was like a hot water bottle.

“Night baby,” he murmured into her hair, inhaling the fresh scent of vanilla from the shampoo she used.

She was almost asleep when he spoke softly into her ear. “Anna?”

“Mm?”

“Promise me that if anything ever happened you wouldn’t let it suck the joy from you. That’d you’d find love again, and happiness.”

“Shut up Tim.”

“I’m serious.”

“So am I.”

“I’m just saying that I wouldn’t mind, you know, if you found love again. I’d rather that then you stay lonely for the rest of your life.”

Anna didn’t know why he was in the mood he was but whatever reason, it needed lightening. “Sorry, but if you’re waiting for me to say the same you’re out of luck. If anything happens to me I expect you remain single and in mourning for the rest of your days, capeesh?”

It worked and he laughed and tickled her ribs. “Capeesh. I’ll wear only black too shall I?”