Trust (39 page)

He separated the sheets he was holding and, with a tiny bow, handed two pages to each of them simultaneously. ‘I’ll just be in my garden,’ he murmured, rising, and left them.

The sisters looked at each other wonderingly, and Susanna lifted open palms:
I’ve no idea
. They both began to read. At one point Angie exclaimed, ‘Oh!’ and her hand flew to her mouth; Susanna reached for her sister’s other hand and clasped it momentarily. Then they read on together, silently.

Dear Angie —

I am writing this letter with all the humility that I, a woman not practiced in humility, can muster. I only hope that whatever you make of it, you will read it through to the end.

I have been thinking a great deal about what has happened in our family over the years. I have found much to examine. It has not been easy. I always thought I’d wanted my daughters to be good, and thus to have a good life – good, that is, according to my terms. I suspect now that what I really wanted was for my daughters to be like me.

What a simple and terrible demand that is: ‘Be like me!’ Foolishly, fearfully, we demand it of our children in the vain hope that if they are sufficiently like us, then we will somehow cheat death.

I lacked the wisdom to see that being not-like-me did not mean being bad. Your father tried to make me understand this but I refused to see it. You insisted on being yourself, Angie, and I punished you for it. In the name of responsibility and duty, I punished you by withholding my affection, my approval, my love. Susanna I rewarded with all those things, but I see that this was a false reward. I never asked myself, “Who is Susie, really? What does she need?” And when she stubbornly continued to love you, never once colluding in my campaign against you, I resented that. How I wish now that I’d had the grace to learn from her, then.

All I can do now, Angie, is to say I am sorry. I have been a selfish, self-righteous woman, too proud to see my faults. I’ve been an inadequate mother, and now I am fearful that you will reject my apology, and me, as you would indeed be justified in doing. You are angry with me, rightly. Nevertheless, I do apologise, and ask for your forgiveness.

I will ask your sister’s forgiveness too. You were right; I pushed her toward becoming a teacher, wanting her to choose those things I prize so highly: respectability and security, not the riskier path of creativity. And in my treatment of you, I also threatened her with what could happen if she chose to tread a different path. I threatened, implicitly, that I would withdraw my love. Is there a worse threat any parent can make?

I take solace in one thing: that you and Susanna have each other. The love you share – and I can take no credit for it – is a gift that will sustain you all your lives.

Gandhi said that forgiveness is choosing to live. Angie, please, when you are ready: can you forgive me?

With love, finally,
your mother

THIRTY-FOUR

Rory was engrossed in the window display of the shop they’d stopped in front of, but Seb was more interested in what he saw reflected in the glass itself. ‘Look at those two,’ he said, nudging her in the side without letting go of her hand. ‘Pretty convincing, huh?’

She shifted focus to their reflection. ‘Absolutely,’ she agreed. Watching the happy teenage sweethearts from the corner of her eye, Aurora Feng rose on to the balls of her long ballet dancer’s feet to plant a kiss on the side of Sebastian Visser’s open, tanned face. ‘Young love.’

They regarded themselves for a few seconds more, then Year Twelve’s most devoted item strolled on through the busy shopping mall. ‘You sure you want to keep this ball in play, Rors?’ asked Seb. ‘You could have a real … you know, something real happening. You could have anyone you want!’

‘Will you cut it out, Visser? I’ve told you, I’m not looking. This is the Plan, and as far as I’m concerned, it’s working perfectly. Anything changes, I’ll let you know.’

‘Okay.’ They stopped to look in another window. ‘Um, you know … Andrew reckons it’s the smart thing to do too,’ Seb said. ‘He totally agrees, it’ll be much, much easier for me to come out once I’m at uni, or at least once I’m not at school.’

‘See? Mr Andrew’s got his brain in gear, too. You have good taste. And, Seb, seriously: those mid-semester results
prove
it’s working, yeah? Study-wise, we da bomb!’

‘Rors. If I hadn’t been working with you I would’ve failed everything.’

‘That’s just crazy talk,’ she said briskly. ‘Besides, Visser, I like hanging out with you. Especially now we’re being straight with each other.’

‘I don’t know that “being
straight
with each other” is exactly …’

‘Oh, that is
so
lame,’ she said, giving his shoulder – his good shoulder – a biff. ‘So tell me, what’s happening with Mr Andrew?’ she asked with a suggestive gleam. ‘We getting any of that hot ambo action yet, huh?’

‘I
wish
!’ Seb showed gritted teeth, exaggerating – or perhaps not – his frustration. ‘I should never have told him about the thing with the pills, it totally freaked him out. He’s been like, whoa! we’re not rushing anything; you have to be totally a zillion per cent together. Nearly four weeks of just
talking
, not even a —’ He made a kissy mouth.

‘Well, what do you expect? The thing with the pills totally freaked
me
out, too. I know, I know,’ Rory held one hand up as he started to protest. ‘You didn’t actually take any. But you were
there
, right on the freaking edge and you hadn’t told
any
body. You reckon Andrew wants to jump in at the deep end with some, like, suicidal teenager? I don’t think so.’

‘Gee, Rors, that’s a bit rough,’ said Seb, pretending to be offended. ‘Actually, I think I’ve got him convinced I’m not a nut case. He’s got next weekend off and he’s kind of asked me down to Venus Bay with him.’

‘To, like, stay?’ Rory was alight with curiosity. ‘Overnight?’

‘Yup, I gather that’s the plan. Some friends of his live down there.’

‘Ooh-ah!’ she leered, and then pulled up, frowning. ‘Wait up – isn’t your sister coming home from hospital next weekend?’

‘Nuh-uh. Week after. They’re keeping her in for a few more tests or something. Or else she’s just piking.’

‘Your sister is
so
not a piker. So, your folks cool with you going to Venus Bay?’

‘My folks?’ Seb looked puzzled. ‘Why would they have a problem with it? I haven’t even told them yet; it’s just a weekend.’

‘He-llo? This is with
Andrew.
Your brand-new potentially first
boy
friend. You can’t not tell ’em, not after what they’ve been through. Specially your mum.’

‘I dunno …’ said Seb, looking uncomfortable. ‘Um, look, there’s something else: they’re not having such a great time right now. They’re seeing a, like, a marriage counsellor guy. I mean, it’s all super-nice and civilised and stuff, at least when I’m around, but … you know. I don’t wanna …’

Rory shook her head. ‘All the more reason your mum needs to know, and
not
two minutes before you head off. Trust me here.’ When Seb continued to look doubtful she asked, arching her eyebrows, ‘Have I been wrong before?’

‘No,’ said Seb, with an only slightly reluctant smile. ‘Feng the Infallible. Okay – I’ll tell ’em.’

His mother was standing down by the lemon tree in the backyard, staring off into the distance. Seb walked right up to her and she still hadn’t noticed him. ‘Hey, Ma,’ he said and she jumped like he’d yelled
Boo!

‘Oh! Seb!’

‘Yep, that’s me. Your son.’

She gave him a kiss on the cheek. ‘Sorry, darling, I was miles away. What are you up to?’

‘Talking to you, right now.’

‘I got
that
, smarty. You know what I mean.’

‘Actually, I just wanted to let you know I’m going away for the weekend, with Andrew.’

To his surprise, her face changed completely, swept by a sudden fright that made her look weirdly like someone you saw on the TV news, or maybe a movie: someone who’d been ambushed. ‘With Andrew? What – where to?’

‘Ah, Venus Bay? Some friends of his have got a place down there.’

‘No – no. Seb, really, I don’t think you should,’ she said in a panicky voice.

‘Don’t worry, Ma, it’s just a weekend. We’ll be back Sunday. It’s not far.’

‘That’s not the
point
. What about —’ she looked around wildly, as though enemies might be coming over the back fence, ‘— and anyway, you hardly
know
Andrew.’

‘I’ve known him for a couple of months now. And this is how I get to know him better,’ Seb said, not unreasonably. Thinking she must be freaked out about the car thing, he added, ‘He’s got a really safe car, he’s a really good driver. He’s an
ambo
!’

Susanna shook this assurance off, and started pulling lemons off the tree like she was angry with them. Suddenly she swung around to him. ‘What about Aurora? You go off with someone else and you just
dump
her? I thought you —’ She looked like she was going to cry. Seb was stunned. ‘What has
she
ever done, might I ask, to deserve being treated like this?’

‘Whoa, Mum. Whoa,’ he said. There was no point trying to figure out what was going on; instead, Seb took a large, swift step forward and wrapped his arms round his mother, rocking her a little as he hugged. At first she held her arms stiffly to her sides, with a couple of lemons clenched in each hand, and then she started to relax. ‘Rory’s my best friend,’ he said to the top of her head. ‘Seriously. She knows about me, she knows about Andrew, she knows about us going away for the weekend. She was the one who told me I should tell
you
.’

‘Oh,’ Susanna said. Seb could tell she’d changed gears, but he kept hugging her. ‘It’s just — I’m okay,’ she said, and he carefully released her. ‘It’s just that … Seb, you have to be careful of people’s feelings. Sometimes men aren’t.’

Seb had a pretty strong suspicion this wasn’t about him, but he had zero desire to find out any more. ‘I am, Mum. Careful. I try to be.’

She handed him the lemons and they began walking up the path toward the house together. ‘And besides,’ she said suddenly, ‘Andrew’s a
lot
older than you. What, seven years? I think that’s too big an age difference, when you’ve only just turned eighteen. Oh, wait a minute, I want to get some rosemary,’ she added distractedly, detouring to the herb bed where she plucked a few pungent sprigs, then some thyme, and mint, while Seb stood patiently by.

‘Dad’s
eight
years older than you,’ he pointed out.

‘But I wasn’t eighteen when I met him, I was twenty-three. There’s a very big difference, darling. And there’s something else: the fact that Andrew is the paramedic who got you out of the car that night – I think that makes you … vulnerable.’ Her forehead was crinkled with concern. ‘I really don’t think you should be going away for the weekend with him. I am not happy about this.’

‘Is it because he’s a guy? Is it because – I’m gay?’ Seb didn’t much like the way that sounded: defiant, a bit childish. But how else could he say it?

‘No, it is
not
!’ his mother shot back. And then her face clouded. ‘I worry for you. I just want you to be happy, and I worry that it’ll be harder for you to be happy if you’re … gay.’

‘Ma,’ he said gently. ‘It was gonna be
impossible
for me to be happy otherwise.’

‘Yes,’ Susanna said slowly. ‘Yes, we both understand that, your dad and I. As long as you’re happy,’ she repeated, and Seb had a little memory flash of Clarence commenting that Australian parents said that all the time, and Chinese parents never did. Clarence: he’d hardly thought about him in weeks. ‘Has anyone said anything at school?’ his mum asked, and he explained Rory’s strategy of continuing to hang out, supporting each other socially and deflecting complications. Susanna asked more questions; she was looking a lot less worried.
Infallible Feng strikes again
, thought Seb, impressed.

In the kitchen, he dropped the lemons into the blue ceramic fruit bowl on the table. Susanna put the herbs on the wooden chopping board and got a leg of lamb out of the fridge. ‘And about the age thing,’ he went on, ‘it’s not like Andrew’s
forty
or something. He’s not, you know, trying to pull some kind of power trip on me. Andrew’s totally not that kind of person.’ And then, again verging on defiance, ‘And I
am
going away with him for the weekend!’

‘Okay, I think I get that,’ Susanna said, rubbing the lamb with olive oil and rosemary and a few pinches of salt. ‘So – what would be the chances of having Andrew over here, say, for dinner?
Before
you go away with him?’

‘Like tonight?’ said Seb, eyeing the leg of lamb. ‘He’s not rostered on till later.’

‘I think tonight would be perfect. Your dad’s going to be home soon, he’s just in at the hospital going over Stella-Jean’s home program with the team.’

‘Oh, wow,’ Seb said. ‘I can’t wait to have my adorable little sister back home.’

Susanna frowned. ‘Are you being sarcastic? I can’t tell.’

‘You know what? Neither can I.’

‘It’ll be a while till she’s giving
you
what for again, anyway.’ She hefted the leg of lamb into a baking dish. ‘Now, why don’t you go and give Andrew a ring? Ask him if he’s any good at making gravy.’

‘Thanks, Ma.’ He’d come to stand very close to her, and she glanced up inquiringly, sensing he wanted to say something more. ‘He’s a really, really nice guy; he’s really
sane
. You don’t have to worry, Mum.’

They gazed at each other, a long and fond moment of exchange. ‘Mothers always worry, darling,’ she told him. ‘It’s part of the job description.’

Gerry was enormously pleased to have someone, outside the hospital, whose eyes didn’t glaze over the moment he mentioned Functional Independence Measures and Clinical Outcomes Variable Scales, even by their acronyms. He and Andrew discussed these and other methods of assessing the extent of TBI (Traumatic Brain Injury) in depth throughout the meal. Gerry was also pleased to discover that Andrew knew exactly what Seb’s latest scores were on the SPDI (Shoulder Pain and Disability Index), and that he was clearly knowledgeable about the most effective rehabilitation practices.