Kim glanced in the mirror as she towel-dried her hair. Every year it turned a darker shade of blonde. When Connor died she’d traded long locks for a no-fuss bob. She hadn’t expected it to suit her, didn’t really care either way, but now she quite liked it. Daisy said it showed off her cheekbones.
She dressed in jeans and polo shirt – her uniform for working at Campbelltown TAFE. The last week of November, and the term was almost at an end. Exams over, assignments in, and just a few students to see today. Thank heavens for that.
Since returning from Tingo, she couldn’t settle back into her old life. She tried to forget about the little house in the mountains, but the harder she tried, the more firmly fixed it became in her memory. At night, scattered images crowded her mind: kaleidoscopic visions of buttressed fig trees, soft leaves and bright flowers. Rare orchids. Rainforests of mottled trunks soaring to the sky, tangles of ancient creepers as thick as her arm, the views across the range.
In the morning she woke to traffic jams and smoggy city skylines. Old longings seeped in through the cracks of her life. She thought she’d become immune. She thought that tragedy and loss had wiped those dreams away. There wasn’t a way to restore Journey’s End without Connor, but the idea of wilderness was taking hold, casting its vivid spell all over again. Life in Campbelltown seemed grey by comparison. Pale. Washed-out.
And then there was the growing problem of Jake and school. Word had somehow got out that he was staying down and the teasing and taunts had begun. He had a short fuse at the best of times, but things had never been as bad as this before. Hurt and humiliated, Jake was lashing out, getting into fights and walking out of class. He’d sworn at Miss Wilson when she tried to break up an argument, then kicked her so hard he’d bruised her shin. He should have been suspended.
Kim went into the kitchen, where the kids were eating breakfast. Jake was uncharacteristically quiet this morning, picking at a bowl of Weeties, idly chasing the flakes around the bowl with his spoon. He lowered his eyes and stayed silent whenever Kim tried to make conversation. She studied her son, his hanging head and slumped shoulders.
Abbey was staring now too. ‘What’s wrong with Jake?’
‘Have you finished your breakfast, Abbey? Go get dressed now, sweetie.’ When Abbey had gone Kim put an arm around Jake’s shoulder. ‘Talk to me, mate.’
He looked up with red-rimmed eyes. ‘I can’t do it anymore, Mum. I just can’t.’
‘Can’t do what?’
‘Go to school. I can’t. I won’t.’
Who could blame him? It broke her heart to see him so unhappy.
‘They all start in on me, about how I’m stupid and not right in the head. Amber said my dad was better off dead than having a retard like me as a kid. I wanted to kill her. If Miss Wilson hadn’t stopped me, I think I might have.’ Now there was fear as well as sadness in his eyes. ‘The worst thing is that they’re right about me being mental. I get so mad, I can’t think straight. I’m scared I’ll hurt somebody. And it doesn’t help that I’m sorry afterwards, does it? Not after I’ve done something really bad.’ Tears welled in his eyes. ‘What’s wrong with me?’
Kim thought of the tomahawk in her boot and hugged him tighter. Then she took his shoulders and turned him to face her. ‘There’s nothing wrong with you, absolutely nothing. But there’s something very wrong with a girl who’d say such wicked things. Don’t your friends stand up for you?’
‘I don’t have any friends.’
‘What about Stuart?’
‘He’s different at school. Stu says the other guys won’t be friends with him if he hangs out with me.’ Jake must have heard Kim’s sudden intake of breath. ‘Don’t blame Stuart. It’s not his fault.’
Anger flared deep inside her. Jake might be troubled, but he was loyal. He’d never betray a friend like that. ‘I’ll go to see Kate Cornish,’ said Kim. ‘She’ll put a stop to it.’ The last bit of colour drained from Jake’s face. He was probably right. Complaining to the principal might make things worse. According to her, Jake was the bully who made threats and started fights. It made no difference that he was provoked. A knot formed in her stomach. What should she do? What would Connor do?
‘Don’t worry.’ Kim put on a happy mask. ‘No school for you today.’
He gave a you’ve-just-saved-my-life sort of smile and squeezed her until she thought she’d break. ‘Thanks, Mum, you’re the best.’
The best, was she? Surely the best mother would have a plan that extended beyond a day off school. She weighed up her own options. Pulling a sickie would be a start. Leaving Jake at home alone in his present frame of mind did not seem like a good idea.
She went to her room and climbed into bed. It might make the lie more convincing. ‘Graeme? Kim. I can’t come in today.’ She affected a loud cough. ‘Some sort of lurgy. My guys are pretty much finished for the year anyway, but a few are coming in to pick up final assignments. They’re on the desk in my office.’ Another cough. ‘Thanks Graeme.’
Kim fell back on her pillow and tried concentrating on the doona’s geometric pattern. It was a modern design, but it lacked soul. Hell, the whole house lacked soul. She’d bought the contemporary townhouse six months after Connor’s death, and had sold or given away most of their things, even their bedding. As an attempt to move on, to forget, it hadn’t worked. She longed for their old patchwork quilt to hide under.
A whoop came from the family room. Jake hadn’t taken long to cheer up, but then kids were like that, weren’t they? Today was sorted, and that’s all that mattered. They couldn’t see round corners, couldn’t appreciate that dodging a problem inevitably made it ten times worse.
Another yell. Jake was playing RuneScape, losing himself in an imaginary world. A world no doubt more enticing than his real one right now. He loved the online role-playing game, and it was a safe enough pastime. No gratuitous violence or bad language. Not like his previous addiction – Medal of Honor. Jake had downloaded the first-person shooter game without her knowledge and begged her to let him keep it.
‘Stuart has it. All my friends do.’
Kim rang Stuart’s dad. ‘It’s tame enough,’ said Steve. ‘I’ll come round and turn off the blood and bad language, if you like.’ Blood and bad language? The settings were duly adjusted and she lost her lounge room whenever Jake was playing. Shooting, yelling and explosions, the sounds of war. She couldn’t bear it, but she also couldn’t bear the inevitable tantrums when she tried to confiscate the game. Jake’s rages intimidated her. Kim had no stomach for the fight.
One night she heard him yell, ‘Die, you fucking Afghan pig,’ and found her courage. The game was gone. Jake screamed and swore and threw things. He begged and cried and threatened to run away. It frightened Kim to see her son so out of control. But although she was shaking inside, she stood her ground. The storm finally abated, and now Jake had a new favourite game.
In RuneScape, players travelled through fantasy realms, meeting other avatars, battling monsters, going on quests. Jake’s avatar was half-giant and half-dragon. A mighty wizard was his mentor and protector. Poor Jake. At least he had a father figure in the virtual universe.
She told herself that Jake’s fixation with the online world was a positive thing. He could talk to hundreds of people his own age, make friends from all around the world. That was okay, wasn’t it, even positive? Kim pulled the pillow over her head. Who was she kidding? It was Wednesday and Jake should be at school.
She rang Daisy. ‘Can you pick Abbey up on your way to school? Jake’s sick, and I’m not much better.’
There was a long pause before Daisy responded. ‘Not sure . . . I’m running late.’
Kim couldn’t keep the irritation from her voice. ‘How much longer would it take you?’
‘I suppose so. See you in ten.’
‘Ready, Abbey?’ Kim finished making a cheese sandwich. ‘Daisy will be here in a minute.’ At least somebody would be where they were meant to be today.
Jake’s words echoed in her head. No friends at school, not even Stuart. Tween years were such an acutely self-conscious time. Kim thought back to what was important when she was in grade six – who sat next to who, who was popular and who wasn’t, who went to whose house after school. These things were everything; friendships were everything and betrayal was utterly overwhelming. Stuart and Jake had been mates since grade one. How could Stu turn his back on a friend like that just because of a bit of peer pressure?
Abbey emerged from the hall with Percy under one arm. ‘Mum, why doesn’t Grace come round anymore?’
‘What do you mean? Of course she does.’
Abbey shook her head. ‘She’s only come over once all this term.’
Kim opened her mouth to argue then closed it again. On reflection, Abbey was right. ‘That’s because you’re always at her place.’
‘But I want her to play with my toys. Can she come today?’
If Grace came, Stuart would want to come too, and Kim didn’t feel like dealing with that boy right now. ‘Not today. Maybe next week.’
Abbey pouted and positioned Percy on the kitchen windowsill, faced to look out of the glass. Since the trip to Journey’s End she always did that when leaving the toy at home. Said he was listening for his bush friends, but was too far away to hear them. A knock came at the door.
‘They’re here,’ squealed Abbey, dashing to open it.
‘Morning munchkin,’ said Daisy ‘You ready?’
Kim packed the lunch box in her daughter’s bag. Abbey grabbed it and ran to the car. Kim watched her, tight-lipped. She’d give anything to see Jake so enthusiastic to start his day. ‘Thanks, Daisy. You’re a life saver.’
‘How about returning the favour?’ Daisy tugged at her dark ponytail, tightening the band. ‘I’ve got an appointment across town this arvo. Could you pick up the kids after school for me?’
Kim squirmed inside. Could she really cope with Stuart being around, knowing how he’d hurt her son? ‘Sorry, Daisy, but I feel like crap today.’ She coughed half-heartedly, and wished she hadn’t. It sounded fake, even to her. ‘Jake’s sick. I think we’d better leave it for another day.’
A loud elated cry sounded from the lounge room, followed by laughter. ‘He doesn’t sound sick to me.’ Daisy frowned. ‘If you don’t want to have my kids, just say so.’
‘Where did that come from?’
Daisy shrugged, then made an expansive gesture in the air with both hands. ‘You hardly ever have Stuart or Grace round after school anymore. Today I ask a favour for the first time in ages, but apparently it’s too much trouble to spend fifteen minutes picking them up.’ Kim tried to butt in, but Daisy wouldn’t have it. ‘You expect me to do it for you, though, and I do, all the time. I’m happy to, because we’re mates. We’re supposed to be best mates, but you never want to go out with me, never want to come over. We don’t talk on the phone like we used to. I’ve been waiting for you to bounce back, waiting for us to be proper friends again, but it never seems to happen. You’ve got to admit, Kim, it’s become a bit of a one-way street.’
Kim was stunned. Fourteen years of knowing Daisy, of her barely uttering a cross word – and now this extraordinary outburst. Was Daisy right? Had she really checked out on their friendship? As Daisy stood there, her hands now stiff at her side, Kim pondered what she’d heard, each sentence burned into her brain. Painful as it was, she knew that most of it was true. She had been self-absorbed, closed down, careless of Daisy’s feelings. It was time to make amends.
But Daisy hadn’t finished. ‘It’s not just me. You’ve cut yourself off from everybody. When was the last time you came to an army get-together? We had a family day last weekend, as I’m sure you know. Even if you didn’t want to go, you could have made an effort for the kids’ sake. They would have loved it. This depression of yours is affecting them, especially Jake. He’s so angry and unpredictable. Even Stu is struggling to stay friends with him.’
Kim’s nostrils flared. It was an effort to keep her voice low so that Jake wouldn’t hear them. ‘I think you’ll find Stuart’s given up on that struggle.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘I mean my son’s on the outer with his classmates, and Stu doesn’t want to risk being unpopular. So apparently he snubs Jake the moment they walk through the school gates. What sort of friend does that?’
Daisy’s expression hardened. ‘Jake’s only got himself to blame.’
‘So you knew about this?’
‘It’s not as black-and-white as you make it out. Stu feels caught in the middle. Is he supposed to be miserable the whole time and lose his other friends because Jake can’t get on with anybody?’ Daisy folded her arms across her chest. ‘I know better than anyone what you’ve been through these past two years, Kim. Losing Connor. You had every right to be devastated, of course you did. But at some stage, you have to start living again. If this was a hundred years ago, you’d be wearing mourning black until you were an old lady.’
Kim gripped the edge of the bench, her knuckles white. ‘How dare you pretend to understand what I’ve been through – what I’m still going through. Did you lose your husband? Is there a bloody great hole in the middle of your life where Steve used to be? No, your life’s just fine. So don’t come round here lecturing me, telling me to get on with things. If I’m not good enough for you the way I am, and if Jake isn’t good enough for Stu, then maybe you shouldn’t bother coming round at all.’
Daisy’s face paled and crumpled. Kim found herself putting things away: the bread, the cheese, the knife into the dishwasher. All automatically. She could feel her fingers shaking. Part of her felt justified in everything she’d said. Part of her felt how good it was to let out some of the anger inside her. Part of her wanted to apologise, to take back the hurtful words. But it was a moot point, because Daisy held up her hand. ‘Suits me just fine. You won’t see me again.’
Then Abbey and Grace came running in together, smiling and holding hands. ‘Come on,’ they chorused. ‘We’ll be late.’
Daisy turned and left without a word. Through the kitchen window, Kim watched her drive off past the row of townhouses that were all exactly the same and turn the corner. She was aware of each heartbeat. Aware of the blood in her body. Aware of her very skin. Shattered.
She reached for the reassuring memory of Connor’s face, and for once, it wouldn’t come. Since losing him, she’d pulled away from her family and most of her friends. She couldn’t bear the veiled hope behind their sympathy, the expectation that one day soon she’d get over his death and move on. A sharp stab of anger left her bewildered and breathless. Anger at Connor for leaving her, for abandoning his children. For making her love him so much that she still felt firmly married this long after his death.
Daisy had been her rock, her anchor. The one person who understood grief was a wild and unpredictable beast that wouldn’t be hurried. But now? Kim’s throat grew tight. She couldn’t take the words back, neither of them could. Her legs went weak. The last connection to her old world was slipping away.
Kim sank into a kitchen chair and buried her head in her hands. What to do? Teaching finished next week and the long, empty summer holidays stretched before her. Perhaps she could take the kids to her parents’ place at Castle Hill. Kim could see it now. Her mother smiling, well-meaning, serving the vegetables for Sunday lunch. ‘Have you been getting out much, Kimmy? I hate to see you moping around on your own the way you do.’ Her taciturn father, carving the roast, roaring at Jake for some minor breach of table manners. Abbey, asking if Grace could visit and bake ginger cakes with Grandma. But Grace wouldn’t come. Not unless she patched up this rift with Daisy. Could she do that? Could she apologise, say she didn’t mean it, ask forgiveness?
Kim got up and marched around the kitchen, filled with a terrible restless energy. The trouble was, she did mean it, most of it anyway. Daisy hadn’t lost her husband. She didn’t understand what that felt like, how paralysing it was. And no matter how hard Daisy protested, no matter how much she wanted to blame Jake, Stuart’s betrayal of his friend was inexcusable. The only thing Kim wanted to take back was the suggestion that Daisy should stay away, and that small concession wouldn’t be enough to repair the friendship. Not nearly enough.
Kim wandered into the family room, Jake too deeply absorbed in his game to notice. She studied his profile, drank in each detail. The morning light gleaming on his curly cap of fair hair. His perfect mouth, so much like Connor’s, pursed now in concentration. His stubborn chin. A wave of love welled up inside her and made it hard to draw breath. Jake. So young, so vulnerable. So many challenges ahead of him. How could she protect her beautiful boy? Her head started to throb. After coping here for two years, she couldn’t cope a day longer.
Kim glanced at the mantelpiece, half-expecting to see the little jar containing Scout’s ashes. But that jar was on another mantelpiece, on a peaceful mountainside, a world away from the smog and noise and misery of Sydney. And the answer came, clear as a clarion bell. Take a year’s leave. Take the kids out of school. Pick up and move to Journey’s End.