Sticks and Stones (15 page)

Maddie smiled, rather than answer directly, and waited patiently until Kim had taken her son back to bed. Then she left.

It was eleven o'clock by the time Hannah finally returned her call and Maddie was pretty well drunk. The red wine at Kim's house had felt so good that she had opened another bottle soon after returning home. And, with some water crackers and cheese, it had turned out to be the perfect accompaniment to the papers she had been served. Wine and cheese and legalese. Thus fortified, she read through every sheet of paper contained within her envelope. Not once, not twice, but three times each. Even more for certain
punchier
ones, like the Notice of Child Abuse or Family Violence.

At some point, without her realising, desensitisation had set in and Maddie had even started to giggle over certain phrases. Like the bit that defined family violence as meaning ‘conduct, whether actual or threatened, by a person towards, or towards the property of, a member of the person's family that causes that or any other member of the person's family reasonably to fear for, or reasonable to be apprehensive about, his or her personal wellbeing or safety'.

Even more amusing was the fact that Jake had now claimed that right for himself. To be fearful, or apprehensive, or whatever, about her. Maddie had just finished reading that passage again, this time out loud for the benefit of Guess, when the phone rang. Finally.

‘Hello? Hannah?'

‘Yes, what is it?' Hannah's voice was high-pitched with concern. ‘What's wrong?'

Maddie slid back into her chair. ‘Oh, Hannah.'

‘Mattie? What
is
it? Is it the kids? What's
happened
?'

‘He's had me served, taking me to court,' said Maddie rapidly, the words now tripping over themselves in their haste to exit. ‘Next week. In Dandenong. For full custody of both of them, and they're not coming back and I'll never see them again. Ever.'

There was silence for a moment and then Hannah said flatly, ‘You're drunk.'

‘No, I'm not!' snapped Maddie with instant resentment. ‘I've had one or two, but I'm not frigging drunk!'

‘Yes, you are. But . . . well, maybe I can't blame you.' Hannah sighed, a long whoosh of a sound that echoed inside Maddie's head. ‘What happened to the couple of days? That he was bringing them back in a couple of days?'

‘All lies.'

‘That bastard. So he's taking you to court?'

‘Next Tuesday, at eleven. In Dandenong.'

‘I was afraid of this,' said Hannah suddenly. ‘I tried to tell you we needed legal advice.'

‘Yes, you did,' replied Maddie, but only because that's what her sister wanted to hear.

There was silence for a moment. ‘Okay, never mind that. What's done is done. We need to regroup. Get organised.'

‘Get a lawyer,' said Maddie, because that was the one thing she was sure about.

‘Absolutely. And a good one too.'

‘Hannah, wait till you see the papers,' Maddie enunciated slowly, making sure the words stayed in line. ‘He said I was abusive. That I manipulated the kids.'

There was a sharp intake of breath down the line. ‘Ignore it. Do you hear me? It's just tactics. And we'll use some of our own back. You wait and see.'

‘All right.'

‘Now you need to get down here. No excuses about work or anything. Tomorrow?'

‘All right.'

‘Good.' Hannah sounded relieved, as if she had been expecting more opposition. ‘But for now you need to go to bed. Get some sleep. You
need
a clear head for what's coming up.'

Maddie nodded again. ‘Okay. And thanks, Hannah. I'll see you tomorrow.'

‘Goodnight. And don't worry. We'll get him.'

Maddie hung up and laid the phone down on the table. She picked up her glass but the wine had lost its appeal so she put it down, sliding it out of reach. Then she stared at the mess of papers spread across the table. They didn't look as funny now, not at all, and she could no longer remember why they ever had. The only thing that was even remotely amusing was that these parenting orders had been six years in the making and yet had still come out of the blue.

ELEVEN

T
here was very little traffic once Maddie hit the freeway and she quite enjoyed the drive, watching the sky gradually darken and the lights blink on in scattered houses. Flick, and suddenly a boxy shadow became a warm, inviting home. With families sitting down to dinner – arguing, teasing, sharing, loving. Although she knew better than anybody that a nice house, with smoke wafting from the chimney and bright lights in the window, meant nothing. As she neared the city, the houses became clusters, and then gave way to retail and industry. The traffic started to thicken as she neared the Westgate Bridge and two trucks hemmed her in for the entire climb, only pulling away as she crested the bridge and stared out at the massed lights of Melbourne, spread in a panorama all the way to the horizon and making the city look far prettier than it would during the day.

As she continued towards the eastern suburbs, Maddie had the most serendipitous feeling of coming home. She fancied the scene as part of a movie, with music that would build to a crescendo and then climax as she pulled into her sister's driveway. She sang the chorus from John Denver's ‘Country Roads', softly at first and then gradually louder, until she caught the eye of a passing motorist and realised, with a wry grin, how ridiculous she looked. So instead, for the remainder of the trip, she contented herself with marvelling at the changes that had occurred during the past six years. The extra lane on a highway, the shopping complex built over what had once been a strip mall, the empty paddock that was now a maze of brick houses, the African faces that had once been a second-look rarity.

In the back seat, Guess kept his snout pressed through the slither of open window, every now and again opening his mouth to let drool catch the wind and spatter against the outside of the glass. Beside him were all the supplies Maddie needed for a couple of days, with the loose plan being that she would stay until the weekend. In the end she had decided to work that day, mainly so that she could see Carol, the community centre manager, before submitting a leave application that would cover her until the following Thursday. Giving her one day to recover from the hearing and, hopefully, spend it with the kids. While at work she faxed all the papers down to Hannah who, with her usual efficiency, had found a lawyer by lunchtime and personally hand-delivered everything the lawyer needed to read prior to their appointment tomorrow.

Maddie knew that money would be an issue. She anticipated that Hannah would offer to lend it to her and that it would be difficult to say no. Especially as, after six years on close to minimum wage, she had
no
savings and all she owned outright was her house contents and the car. There was equity in the other house of course, the one that Jake was living in, but she suspected retrieving that was a long way off.

Maddie turned the sharp corner into Hannah's street and Guess scrabbled for traction on the back seat. The houses here were all lovely, most of them gracious weatherboards with wide lawns shaded by colourful maples and courteous willows. There were several cars in Hannah's driveway and, despite the reason for her visit, Maddie felt a flicker of anticipatory excitement. This was a reunion, of sorts, or the return of the prodigal son. Humming ‘Take me home, country roads . . .', she parked by the kerb and then leant over into the back, clipping Guess's lead on before opening the car door. For now she took just her handbag and the envelope, and Guess, and with a deep breath walked up the pathway to the front door. It opened before she could even reach it.

‘Mattie! What
took
you so long?' Hannah stepped out onto the porch and enveloped her younger sister in a generous hug, which ended abruptly with Hannah taking a step back and looking a trifle awkward. She cleared her throat. ‘I expected you about an hour ago. That's all.'

Maddie smiled to soften the moment and looked up at her sister affectionately. Hannah was quite a tall woman, more angular than Maddie but with the same mid-brown colouring. Her most compelling feature had once been her hair, waist-length for all her adult life until about two years ago when it had been ruthlessly trimmed to a shoulder-length bob. Maddie still got a shock whenever she saw it, as if some essence of her sister had been removed. With an eight-year age gap between them, the two sisters had never been particularly close growing up, and after Maddie married they had slowly moved even further apart. In a strange way it was the break-up that had brought them together. And the fact that, for the first time in years, Maddie had reached out.

‘You brought the dog,' said Hannah, her smile tightening as she glanced down.

‘Well, I couldn't very well leave him at home by himself for a few days now, could I?'

‘No, I suppose not.'

‘So can we come in?'

Hannah smiled again. ‘Of course. But maybe the dog wants to go into the backyard? It's fully enclosed. Absolutely safe.'

‘Sure.' Maddie followed Hannah into the house, Guess straining on his lead as he tried to take everything in. There were voices coming from the lounge room but Hannah skirted it and went straight down the passage and into a large laundry. She opened the back door and looked down at Guess encouragingly.

‘There you go, doggie. Nice backyard for you to play in.'

Maddie bent down and unclipped the lead. ‘Go on, Guess. Off you go.'

‘Now, what can I get you?' Hannah closed the door securely. ‘Something to eat? Tea? Wine?'

Maddie grimaced at the last suggestion. ‘Just coffee would be lovely, thanks.'

‘Excellent. You go through to the lounge room. Everyone's waiting for you.'

Hoping that by ‘everyone' Hannah just meant her family, Maddie headed back down the passageway and then took the steps into the sunken lounge room. It was a huge room, with carpet of a mossy-green hue that was also picked up in the floral tapestry of the lounge suite, a scattering of occasional chairs and the padded pelmet that ran across the long bay window. Hannah's husband Stuart was ensconced in an armchair with a tumbler of Scotch. He was a somewhat unprepossessing man, of slightly below average height and slightly above average weight, and Maddie had always found him rather old-fashioned. With strong views that he called traditional but which verged on being moralistic, even sexist. On the couch were Charlotte and Nicholas, looking exactly what they were, a young couple brought up with a degree of privilege who were unquestioningly continuing in that vein. Looks-wise, Charlotte was a younger version of her mother, while Nicholas was much fairer-skinned, with reddish hair, a little lighter than Natalie's, and pale blue eyes.

Feeling surprisingly nervous, Maddie fixed a smile on her face as she came down into the room. ‘Hello everyone.'

‘Mattie!' Stuart hefted himself to his feet and then met her halfway, kissing her on the cheek. ‘How wonderful to see you. And how well you're looking.'

‘Thanks, Stuart. You too.'

‘Aunt Mattie.' Charlotte had risen also and as her father sat down again she came forward to give her aunt a hug. ‘So lovely to see you. Even if the circumstances are . . .'

‘Yes,' Maddie nodded. ‘But you're looking so good! I was expecting a wreck after what your mother had said. With the baby and all.'

Charlotte laughed. ‘Clever makeup, that's all. God, when did we last see you?'

‘Last year. In Ballarat. You were just starting to show,' Maddie grinned as she held a hand out in front of her stomach. Then she turned to Nicholas. ‘And hello to you too. How are you coping with fatherhood?'

Nicholas groaned theatrically. ‘Honestly? If someone had told me about the lack of sleep . . .'

‘I did tell you,' said Stuart, smiling.

‘Yeah, but
nobody
said it was as bad as it got at one stage there. Two, three hours a night.'

‘
If
we were lucky.' Charlotte flopped back onto the couch and grinned at her husband. ‘Besides, what would you have done differently if you'd known?'

‘I'd have done a runner,' replied Nicholas promptly. Then he realised what he had said and his pale face flushed.

‘Never mind.' Maddie waved a hand. ‘So where is the little darling anyway?'

Charlotte smiled. ‘In bed, thank god. But he'll be up later.'

‘Doubtless,' said the new father dryly.

‘Okay then.' Hannah came down the steps carrying a laden tray which she placed carefully on the octagonal coffee table beside a stack of papers. ‘Tea for Charlotte, Nicholas and I, coffee for Mattie. Grab a seat, Mattie. There, in the other armchair.'

Maddie did as instructed, glancing at the papers as she passed and realising, with a jolt, that they were
her
papers. She leant over and put the envelope on top. ‘Snap.'

‘I had a couple of copies made,' said Hannah, glancing over while pouring tea. ‘So that everyone could have a look before you got here. Save time.'

‘Bit of a pickle, eh?' said Stuart, gazing evenly at his sister-in-law.

‘And if anyone is
not
going to be constructive, then they had best leave now.' Hannah passed cups around and then took hers over to a wingback chair nearby. She didn't look at her husband but it was quite clear to whom she had been speaking. He didn't respond.

Maddie took a sip of coffee and it tasted wonderful. She looked around the room and then took a deep breath, needing to get this part over and done with. She focused on a spot just above Hannah's head. ‘The thing is, I suppose, that I've never really spoken about this with any of you. Except Hannah, of course. About me leaving back then, and why. And I don't really want to start now because it's just too . . . well, mortifying. Besides, I don't think I have the words to explain it properly.' Maddie shrugged, almost helplessly.
Eyes like flinty marbles. Implacable.
‘So I'm afraid you'll just have to trust me when I say I had no other choice.' She paused, finally dropping her eyes to gaze at each of her audience in turn. Lingering on Stuart just a trifle longer than necessary. ‘And that the whole thing still eats me up inside, and part of me sort of thinks that all this,' she waved towards the papers, ‘is no more than my just desserts. But I honestly don't know what else I could have done.'