The Mothers' Group (33 page)

The surgery wasn't a miracle cure. It fixed the worst of her symptoms, but her bladder was still weak. On the specialist's advice, she began seeing a pelvic floor physiotherapist and, eight weeks later, she and Robert finally had sex again. She was nervous and awkward and she felt next to nothing, yet she cried with relief afterwards. There
is
hope, she thought, as Robert held her in his arms in the dark. I have survived.

When she finally told the mothers' group of her problems, a fortnight before the surgery, she felt relieved of her secret burden. She started to get to know them in a way she hadn't allowed herself to previously. And she hoped that, in time, she would be able to repay them the generosity they had shown her while she was in hospital.

One Wednesday morning, when Heidi was nine months old, one such opportunity presented itself. Pippa's mobile phone rang and she sat up from the play mat to take the call. ‘Hello?'

‘Pippa, it's Ginie.' The background noise was distracting, as though Ginie was at an airport.

‘Hi,' she said. ‘Aren't you in Melbourne?'

‘Yes, I've just arrived.' Ginie's tone was urgent. ‘Can I ask for your help?'

‘Sure.'

‘I wouldn't normally trouble you with this, but since you live around the corner . . .'

‘Go ahead,' said Pippa.

‘Well, Rose has an appointment today for her six-month immunisations. They're overdue by three months, but I've just been so busy . . .' The line crackled. ‘Sorry, I'm at a taxi rank. Look, the appointment's at eleven o'clock. I reminded Daniel about it on Monday, but I'm sure he's forgotten. I've tried his mobile six or seven times, but he's not answering. The nanny's gone shopping in the city, so she's no help.' Ginie paused and spoke in a muffled voice to a cab driver.

‘Anyway,' she continued. ‘I really don't want Rose to miss the appointment. We're going overseas in a fortnight.'

At the previous week's mothers' group meeting, Ginie had mentioned their upcoming family holiday to Tahiti, with the nanny in tow. Pippa had been quietly envious at the thought of lying on a beach while someone else looked after Heidi.

‘Would it be too much to ask for you to go over to my house and just bang on the door and remind Daniel about the appointment?' asked Ginie. ‘He's probably got his hands full of Rose and can't find his phone. Men can't multi-task.'

Pippa laughed. ‘Sure. I'll pop over now.'

*

Ginie's house was less than two kilometres from hers, a pleasant walk along a tree-lined street that barrelled towards the coast. Pippa parked the stroller on the grass near the letterbox and lifted Heidi out. Carrying the baby on her hip, she bypassed the front door in favour of the side gate. She'd been to enough mothers' groups at Ginie's house to know her way around. If she knocked at the front door, Daniel was unlikely to hear. The best way to attract his attention would be via the backyard, where an enormous kitchen and living area spilled out onto a large patio overlooking the ocean. The family spent most of their time out the back, reserving the front of the house for more formal occasions.

As she walked along the hedge bordering the backyard, she heard someone giggle. She knew the voice; it was the infectious laughter of Nicole, Ginie's nanny. She must be back early from her shopping trip, Pippa thought.

She rounded the hedge at the southernmost corner of the yard and stopped dead. In the living area beyond the patio, Nicole was seated on a lounge, wearing a figure-hugging dress that plunged at the neckline. Her eyes were closed and Daniel stood in front of her, board shorts slung low on his hips, squinting through a long-lens camera. Pippa could hear the camera's shutter clicking as he moved around her. He leaned forward and said something to her in a low voice, prompting her to giggle again. Rose was nowhere in sight.

Pippa immediately stepped back behind the hedge, her heart hammering. Startled by the sudden movement, Heidi arched her back and wailed. Pippa tried to stifle the sound by pressing the baby against her chest, which only aggravated her further. She could hear their panicked whispering on the other side of the hedge. She hesitated, unsure what to do. Her natural inclination was to bolt straight back down the side path. But how would she explain that to Ginie? She made a split-second decision.

‘Hello?' she called out, as loud as she could. She paused, stalling for time. Then she rounded the hedge once more, rocking Heidi on her hip. As she walked across the lawn, she focused on Heidi, making a deliberate fuss of her.

‘Goodness,' she said, apologetic, as she stopped in front of the living area. ‘What a racket we're making.'

Daniel stood in front of the couch, his arms folded across his bare chest, regarding her suspiciously.

‘Hi Daniel,' said Pippa, endeavouring to sound relaxed. ‘I'm Pippa, one of Ginie's friends from mothers' group. We met at the Fathers and Partners session last September.'

He looked confused. ‘Oh yes.'

He glanced over his shoulder, towards the couch. Was Nicole hiding behind it? Pippa wondered. She desperately wanted to leave.

‘Um, I had a call from Ginie this morning. She couldn't reach you on your phone.' Her eyes moved involuntarily to Daniel's chest. ‘You must have been . . . in the shower.' She cleared her throat. ‘She wanted me to remind you about Rose's appointment at eleven o'clock.'

Daniel looked at her blankly.

‘For her immunisations,' Pippa continued. ‘Ginie didn't want you to miss them, with your overseas trip and everything . . .'

‘Oh.' Daniel's jaw slackened. ‘I was just doing some work.' He glanced at his watch. ‘Well, I guess I'd better take Rose now. Thanks for letting me know.'

‘That's okay.' She smiled and edged back towards the hedge. ‘I hope it's not too distressing for Rose. When Heidi had her immunisations, it wasn't much fun. Was it, madam?' She tickled Heidi in the ribs, making her squirm. She couldn't believe her powers of small talk under duress. ‘Bye, then.'

She didn't wait for Daniel's response. She clasped Heidi to her chest and fled down the side path.

Later that night, Robert sat in silence as she described what she had seen.

‘I don't know what to do,' she concluded. ‘How do you tell a friend that her husband is cheating on her?'

Robert quaffed the last of his beer then set the bottle down. ‘You don't.'

Pippa frowned. ‘What, I'm just supposed to pretend I never saw it?'

‘That's about right.'

‘But if I was in her position,' she objected, ‘I'd want to know that my husband was having sex with the nanny.'

‘Well, you're
not
in her position. And you've got no idea what's going on in their relationship, Pip. Even if you did see something . . .'

Pippa gaped at him. ‘What, do you think I just made it all up? That I'm some stupid housewife with nothing better to do than concoct stories about other people's husbands?'

‘No, that's not what I said. It just mightn't have been quite what you
think
it was.'

Pippa snorted. ‘What? With her cavorting around, pouting and giggling? Him whispering sweet nothings? I can't imagine what else it might have been.'

‘He
is
a photographer. Maybe it was a legitimate shoot.'

‘Oh, please.'

Robert pushed his dinner plate away. ‘Look, Pippa, you've just got to be very careful about sticking your nose into other people's business.'

‘I don't
want
to be involved,' she snapped. ‘I didn't go over there looking for trouble. I went over to help Ginie. But I saw what I saw. They're going away next week. The bloody nanny's going with them. He'll be screwing the pair of them on holiday. How would it be acceptable for me to keep that to myself?'

He stood up. ‘Look, you asked me for advice. I've told you what I think. But don't listen to me, I'm just your husband.' His eyes flashed. ‘You don't want my opinion, Pippa. You want confirmation of your own. If you decide to tell Ginie, don't come crying to me when it causes a shit-fight.'

He picked up his mobile phone and car keys from the bench.

‘Where are you going?'

‘Out.' He slammed the front door behind him.

Pippa slumped onto the dining room table.

*

The longer she considered what she had seen, the less confident she became. Eyewitness accounts are notoriously unreliable, she reminded herself; a degree in psychology had taught her that. Had she just stumbled across a harmless photo shoot after all? No harm done, as Robert suggested.

But no, she would protest. It couldn't possibly have been harmless. There was too much in their body language, their proximity, their laughter. The fact that Ginie thought Nicole had gone shopping for the day was, in itself, suspicious. But whenever Pippa concluded that she'd caught Daniel in a brazen act of infidelity, she began to fret about
how
to deliver the news to Ginie. After all, even after eight months of mothers' group meetings, she didn't feel close to her. There was an air of arrogance about Ginie that Pippa found off-putting. She was opinionated and self-confident—everything Pippa wasn't. And the truth was, Ginie frightened her a little. So Pippa procrastinated, waiting for the ideal moment to speak up.

No time was ever right, however; there were always too many others within earshot. Ginie never lingered after mothers' group, always barging off somewhere immediately after. And it was impossible to organise one-on-one catch-ups, because Ginie worked practically full-time. Indeed, she often missed mothers' group on Fridays because of work demands. And Pippa couldn't stomach just telephoning her—what exactly would she say?
Hello, Ginie, it's Pippa. I'm ringing to tell you that Daniel is doing the nanny.

Days dragged into weeks: the more she imagined telling Ginie what she'd seen that day, the more she started to relish the fantasy. Watching Ginie's horrified face as she broke the news.
How's your perfect life looking
now, Ginie?
Pippa was ashamed and appalled by herself for even
thinking
like that. It must be the PND, she told herself. The doctor said it would take at least six months to see the full effect of the medication.

Once, she'd tried casually to gauge whether Ginie had an inkling of an affair between Daniel and Nicole. She'd made up some fanciful story about considering a nanny herself, but pretending to be worried about the possibility of an attraction between Robert and the hired help. Ginie had dismissed the possibility unreservedly. Eventually, Pippa grew tired of carrying around the mental burden of it all. Crippled by uncertainty, she decided to follow Robert's advice and say nothing at all. It was better for everyone, she reasoned. At the very least, Robert would feel that she'd followed his counsel for once.

Robert.
She opened her eyes, certain she'd heard the familiar sound of his ute pulling into the driveway. But that was impossible: it was only eleven o'clock in the morning. She must have fallen asleep again when she'd put Heidi down for her morning nap. She sat up on the sofa, remembering how she'd promised to call her psychiatrist. For Robert, as much as for herself.

She stood up from the couch and walked along the hallway to the front door. On his way out, Robert had slid a copy of the local paper under it. She collected it from the mat and padded back to the kitchen, glancing at the loaf of bread next to the toaster. She was eating normally again, but she didn't feel like breakfast today. She perched on a stool and turned the newspaper over.

BABY'S TRAGIC DEATH A MYSTERY
declared the unusually large headline, followed by a bold sub-heading—
MOTHER TURNS HER BACK, CHILD DISAPPEARS.
Pippa gasped at a photograph of a smiling Astrid on Cara's knee, taken at Beachcombers. The caption read:
Cara and Astrid Jenkins in
happier times
.

The article had been compiled by a junior reporter, who cited unnamed witnesses at the scene. Pippa's eyes widened as the article speculated about the possible molestation and drowning of Astrid by one of the party guests. Worse, it quoted a ‘personal friend of Cara's from her mothers' group' as saying, ‘I don't know why she left Astrid alone in the first place. It's very out of character.'

Pippa stared at the newspaper, her hands shaking. Had someone from the mothers' group actually
spoken
to a journalist? She wouldn't have believed it, if not for the photograph.

She slumped down onto her forearms.
Oh God, poor Cara.

Heidi began to whimper in her cot. The day beckoned, with all its trivial permutations. How could she go through the motions of changing Heidi's nappy, spoon-feeding her porridge, reading her nursery rhymes and putting her to bed when Astrid was
dead
? And yet, she had no choice. The rhythms of Heidi's life continued, irrespective of her own needs. The world was utterly insensitive to those it had abandoned. Life goes on, ready or not.

During the day Pippa snatched every spare moment to follow the media coverage of Astrid's death. While Heidi napped at three o'clock, Pippa listened to a popular talkback radio program. She grimaced at the announcer's opening comments: ‘
We don't know the full details, listeners,
and police investigations are continuing, but we do know that the child's
mother wasn't present at the barbecue when she went missing. What are we to
make of that, listeners? Nothing is more important than watching your child.
Your comments, please
.'

His lines were jammed with callers for the next hour, mostly women with children themselves, expressing their deepest sympathy but
. . . ‘How
could a mother turn her back on her child? No one could be that selfish, or that
stupid. Some women just aren't fit to be mothers.'