Stella Makes Good (24 page)

tella insisted on driving Louisa to her parents’ house, but despite Louisa’s invitation to come in, Stella just dropped her off. Louisa stood at the front gate, looking around, seeking out familiar sights. Where once there had been paddocks and horses grazing across the road, there were now five blond-brick monstrosities. Ugh! The gravel street of her childhood was a bitumen road with cement guttering, and there was even a cement pathway for pedestrians.

Overgrown camellia trees lined the fence of her parents’ home, and the huge liquid amber she and Jesse used to climb as kids was losing its leaves. Ancient agapanthus plants crept along the driveway. The house itself was still as Louisa remembered, just more weathered and badly in need of a paint job. The once dark green woodwork was pale and flaky and the window frames looked dated and worn.

‘Come on, Louisa. I’ve made a pot of tea,’ Dot called impatiently from the front door.

Of course she had. Louisa nodded and walked towards her.

Dot’s arms were outstretched to capture Louisa as soon as she made it up the steps to the veranda. ‘Welcome home.’

A cursory glance around inside revealed that most of the furnishings remained the same, but the framed photos had changed. They’d used to feature Jesse and Louisa at various ages; now they were mostly of Oliver and Emily. Then there were all of Dot’s churchy ornaments: a crucifix, the Madonna—no change there.

Louisa followed Dot into the lounge room, where her father and Grandma Milly were sitting. Louisa saw that Tom’s favourite chair had survived, even though it now looked worn and tattered. Dot had given it to him as an anniversary gift many moons ago and no one else had dared sit in it, ever.

‘Ah, Louisa, you’re home,’ said Tom, folding his newspaper and putting it down on the side table.

‘About time,’ said Grandma Milly.

‘Any news?’ Tom asked, standing up.

‘The doctors were doing more tests when Stella and I left.’ Louisa wasn’t ready to talk about Jesse’s pregnancy. ‘I hardly recognised the street. It’s changed.’

‘A lot of things have changed since you lived here, Louisa,’ said Dot, handing her a cup of tea.

‘I’m surprised Steve didn’t stay longer at the hospital this morning,’ Louisa said, turning the subject away from her prolonged absence.

‘Steve’s Steve. He works hard and expects everyone else to fall in line,’ said Dot.

‘But given the circumstances . . .’

‘Everyone copes in their own way,’ added Tom.

‘Well, he’s an arrogant prick, if you ask me,’ Louisa said.

Grandma giggled into her tea. ‘No change there, then.’

‘Louisa, really,’ said Dot. ‘What about you? How’s university life?’

‘Busy,’ she answered truthfully. ‘There are always new courses to teach, assessments, student dramas . . . never a dull moment.’

‘Seeing anyone?’ Grandma asked.

‘I am, actually. His name is Philippe and he’s . . . at uni with me.’

‘Do I hear wedding bells?’ Grandma probed.

‘I don’t think so.’

Dot clicked her tongue. ‘You’re not getting any younger, Louisa. Maybe this Philippe character is your Prince Charming. It’s high time you settled down, don’t you think?’

Great. She’d been home all of five minutes and her mother had already given her the settling-down lecture. Following Grandma’s lead, Louisa pretended Dot hadn’t spoken. ‘What about you, Grandma?’

‘Don’t be ridiculous. No more weddings for me.’

‘I didn’t mean that. How are you?’

‘You know me, love. Fit as a fiddle.’

‘Why don’t you tell Louisa about the newfangled church you’re going to, Mum,’ said Dot, raising her eyebrows.

Milly sighed. ‘Dotty, the traditional church doesn’t work for me any more. Simple as that.’

‘Doesn’t work?’ Louisa asked. She just wanted to talk about something other than Jesse’s plight for a few minutes . . . Her grandma’s new church was as good as any other topic.

‘I’ve been at it for eighty years, Lulu-Bell—kneeling in pews and praying to the Almighty. Still not getting any answers, so I’ve moved onward and upward. It’s wonderful. We sing songs and have outings to bowling clubs.’

‘Sounds like fun.’

‘It is fun, Louisa! Jolly good fun. We sing, we clap—’

‘It’s a cult,’ said Dot. ‘Last week, she brought home an evangelical Christian surfer from Cronulla. He was all of twenty-five—’

‘I’ll have you know he’s a delightful young man,’ said Milly. ‘A delightful young man who’s teaching me the guitar, by the way. Imagine learning to play an instrument at my age. It’s wonderful. Perhaps some day, I’ll be the one playing the music at song time.’

If I had to put up with this on a regular basis, I’d go mad, Louisa thought. Aloud, she said, ‘I’m sure you’ll both be saved.’

‘That’s not the point,’ Dot said. ‘We should be united, praying as a family, especially at this time, not running off joining cults and chanting and clapping.’

‘I’d hardly call it a cult,’ said Milly, sipping her tea. ‘Besides, I go to the old-fashioned church if there’s no alternative, like I did this morning. I didn’t see you praying there, Dot.’

Tom folded his paper and stood up. ‘Might do some gardening before we head back to the hospital,’ he said and disappeared through the kitchen door. Louisa’s gaze followed him outside, where he stopped and deadheaded several agapanthus.

‘Is he okay?’ she asked. Because to her, he definitely didn’t look well.

‘Of course he’s not okay, Louisa. Your sister is in a coma. He can’t bear the thought that she might have . . . that we could have done more to help her and we didn’t. That she’s been suffering all this time.’ Her mother took a deep breath before continuing. ‘Whenever I asked Jesse how she was managing, she always said she was fine, even though recently she’s been fussing—all that foot tapping, turning light switches on and off. It was breaking my heart. And when I think that she might have driven into that tree on purpose . . .’

‘You don’t know that,’ Louisa said. ‘Everyone I’ve spoken to thinks it was an accident. And if she did do it deliberately, then she was likely very depressed and not able to reason properly.’

‘But no other cars were involved.’

‘Dot, stop talking nonsense!’ said Milly. ‘I think I’ll do a turn of the garden with Tom.’

Dot watched her elderly mother slowly make her way outside, then turned back to Louisa. ‘She’s completely lost now that Oprah’s finished. How often did you say you speak with Jesse? You rarely call us.’

‘I’m sorry,’ Louisa said. She wasn’t proud of her lack of contact with her parents, but being at home again made her feel seven years old.

‘We manage. I wanted to talk to you about something else—something your sister’s been up to. I caught her out just days ago. Have a look at this.’ Dot reached inside her handbag and pulled out a brochure, which she thrust into Louisa’s hand.

‘Secret Women’s Business Workshop,’ Louisa read out loud. ‘And . . .?’

‘Louisa, this is serious. Jesse was getting involved in all manner of things that aren’t normal or healthy for a woman like her. A mother. A married mother.’

‘Says who?’

‘Don’t keep asking me questions like that. I just know it’s not healthy. These clubs are known fronts for brainwashing cults. They make people do strange things and take them away from their families.’

‘You and your obsession with cults, Mum. I don’t think Jesse was about to join one.’

‘I wouldn’t be too sure of that.’

‘How do you know?’

‘Because I confronted her about it. Told her to wake up to herself, that she had responsibilities and just who did she think she was kidding? Secret women’s business indeed.’

‘How did she take it?’

‘Told me to mind my own business.’

Louisa grinned. ‘Fair enough, too.’

‘Don’t look at me like that, Louisa. I was shocked. She said the group sounded interesting. I said to her, interesting or not, she had enough on her plate without getting messed up in that kind of thing. I suggested she come to church with me—’

‘She would have loved that.’

‘Would you stop sneering for one second?’

Louisa tried to assume a neutral expression. ‘How did you find out about this anyway?’

‘I found the leaflet in her handbag.’

‘You were snooping?’

‘I was not. I didn’t have to look very hard to find it. We had a terrible fight—Jesse said I was invading her privacy. I thought we shared everything, but she went crazy. Told me it was none of my business if she wanted to go to meetings and better herself. I said she could better herself by getting her tics under control. That girl is a walking convulsion sometimes. I told her she didn’t need any more demands placed on her.’

‘No, of course not. Not after you’ve just told her she’s a walking bloody convulsion—’

‘Louisa! Please don’t use language like that.’

‘This family has more pressing issues than the misuse of language, Mum.’

‘It makes me wonder. If she was hiding this from me, what else was she keeping secret?’

‘She’s entitled to secrets. We all are. I can’t believe you were prying—’

‘I was looking for Panadol and happened to come across it.’

‘I think Jesse might have a different take on the situation. When did you talk to her about it?’

‘The day I went around to her house after the fall.’

‘After she’d been on the phone to me?’

‘That’s right. She didn’t seem herself. And now . . .’ Dot started to cry. ‘And now my little girl’s in a coma in hospital.’

Louisa looked at how devastated her mother was and suddenly felt ashamed. Ashamed she hadn’t been there to support her, sad that she’d missed out on six long years. When she’d left Australia, her father was still working full-time, her grandmother resided in her own home . . . And now? Well, now, they were all so much older. No one lived for ever, Louisa was starting to realise.

‘Mum,’ she said. ‘I’m sorry. I never meant to let you down.’

‘Hey,’ Dot said, drawing Louisa in close and hugging her. ‘Where’s all this coming from?’

Louisa blinked back tears. She was so incredibly tired.

‘You turned out all right,’ said Dot, patting her affectionately on the arm. ‘More than all right, Louisa. Why do you think I was so hard on you and Jesse? I didn’t want you making the same mistakes I did. I didn’t want either of you to go through the pain.’

Louisa immediately wondered what mistakes her mother had made, but was secretly pleased she was admitting to being hard on her daughters.

‘Now that I’m older, I realise everyone has to travel through life on their own path,’ Dot said. ‘For all my instinctive nagging and interference in yours and Jesse’s lives and my bickering with Mum, I realise that people need to make their own mistakes and find their own way home. Don’t think for one moment I’m happy about it. I’m not. But I know that’s the way it has to be.’

With that, Louisa burst into tears. ‘I’m so sorry. I never wanted to stay away so long. It’s just that . . .’

‘You didn’t want to talk to an old fogey like me about your troubles?’

Louisa nodded through her tears.

‘Fair enough,’ said Dot. ‘I’d have wanted to clip you around the ears and lock you in your bedroom for ten years. Instead, you flew away. Don’t ever do that again. Your father and I are old.’

Louisa followed Dot’s gaze as it rested on a collection of family portraits hanging on the wall. ‘As for Mum,’ she said, focusing on a photo taken of Milly and her more than thirty years ago, ‘God in His wisdom has deemed that she live with us. Divine punishment, if ever there was one.’

‘Grandma’s cool,’ Louisa said, ‘And she keeps you on your toes.’

‘I guess.’ Dot turned back to Louisa. ‘You’re home now, Lou. Please stay. We’ve missed you.’

Dot and Louisa hugged for a very long time before Dot finally pulled away. ‘Come on then, dear. Upstairs and shower while I make peace with my mother.’ She glanced outside to where Milly and Tom were talking animatedly beside an azalea bush. ‘You know, the young man from Cronulla she brought home the other week was a thorough gentleman, and to tell you the truth, I don’t actually mind the songs they sing.’ She rolled her eyes. ‘But if you tell Grandma I said that, I’ll deny it.’

Louisa smiled. Families. ‘Love you, Mum,’ she said, kissing her on the cheek.