By the time their seventh anniversary came around, Christina had loved Jackson for so long and in such desperation that the twinkling possibility of achieving her heart’s desire seduced her. Not once did she stop to think, Why now? Never did it occur to her that agreeing to Jackson’s plans might extract such an intolerable price. To her perennial shame, she relished her victory.
Jackson had taken his sons Simon and Josh to the Mentawi Islands for a boys’ own surfing adventure. Three weeks in which Christina received not a phone call, a postcard nor any indication whatsoever that Jackson’s proclaimed last-ditch attempt to bond with his sons had been a success or a failure. The only communication she’d had was an SMS message telling her he would be home Friday. If he had remembered it was also their anniversary, he had failed to mention it.
Those three weeks had scraped Christina hollow. The enforced silence frightened her, allowing her insecurities, normally soothed by Jackson, to rise to the surface. What if he repaired the bond with Simon and Josh? What if distance made him realise their relationship was nothing more than a petty dalliance that really had dragged on for far too long? What if he decided that in the end he could never leave Sarah? This was the fear that shouted above all others.
By the day of Jackson’s return, Christina had worked herself into a state of high anxiety. Over the years she had shut out the women with whom she would have normally shared every obsessive thought. Her distance from Rosa was as emotional as it was physical. Della, well, she had never wavered from her stance of disapproval over Christina’s relationship with Jackson, and Christina didn’t see enough of Mary-Lou to feel comfortable sharing those kinds of confidences. Over time, Christina had developed the habit of saying as little as possible about her relationship with Jackson. Alone, with all her fears bottled up inside her, she waited for his return. She sat in the afternoon light of her lounge room, watching the digital clock in the kitchen tip over the minutes and then the hour. The shadow of the jacaranda tree had travelled from one side of the room to the other by the time she heard the sound she had been willing into existence.
As the key scraped in the lock, Christina raced down the hall. She flung it open to be greeted by a crazy crinkly smile and a ridiculously large bouquet of flowers. All her doubts evaporated in Jackson’s arms as he pulled her close and kissed her like a thirsty man.
‘Honey, I missed you so much,’ he declared once they paused for breath.
‘Me too. Come inside quickly.’ Christina needed the reassurance of his skin on hers to confirm that nothing had changed between them.
‘Happy anniversary.’ Jackson thrust the flowers at her.
Christina pulled him down the hall, abandoning the flowers and their clothes in their fervour.
Afterwards, they lay in a tangle of sheets, Christina gazing up at Jackson from where her head rested in his lap. She felt languid and sated. The prickling uncertainty was gone, rubbed smooth by Jackson’s insistent attentions. Never still, Jackson reached for her again.
Christina batted away his hand. ‘Don’t do that! School pickup’s in ten minutes.’
‘Ample time,’ Jackson grinned and rolled her off his lap.
She drew him into her, let her head fall back over the edge of the bed and relished the thrust and pull of desire. When Jackson moved inside her, there were never any doubts, no fear gnawing at her hollow edges. Always, at such times, she knew Jackson belonged to her.
Their lovemaking had made Christina late for school pickup but she spotted Della hanging out under the giant camphor laurel in the school playground. Bianca and Izzy dangled upside down on the play equipment. Christina first apologised to Della and then told Bianca, ‘Jackson’s back,’ and in an instant Bianca swang to the ground and raced to collect her schoolbag from the pile jumbled near the steps.
They arrived home to find Jackson slick from the shower arranging the rescued flowers in a vase. Bianca raced ahead to claim first cuddle. He swept Bianca into his arms and pulled her ponytail, saying, ‘Hey, Busy Bee, break any hearts today?’ Bianca shook her head in a fit of giggles and Christina laughed at the pair of them. Although Bianca kept growing taller and taller, in every other way she was young for ten. Still more than happy to be indulged with cuddles and tickles when many of her friends were developing the haughty indifference they would use to shield themselves through their teenage years. Christina was grateful Bianca wasn’t like that. As far as she was concerned, the longer Bianca stayed a little girl the better.
Jackson tested Bianca on her spelling words whilst Christina fixed pasta. She caught his eye and smiled as much for the pleasure of this renewed domesticity as for the aching reminder of him every time she moved. Over dinner he regaled them with tales from his holiday. Bianca smiled though she pushed her olives into mounds on the plate, concealing them under a roof of penne better than she concealed her disappointment. Jackson had told her this was just a trip with a bunch of old mates but Christina could tell the exclusion hurt. Bianca was jealous.
When she caught Bianca stifling a yawn, Christina seized the opportunity. ‘C’mon, Bee. Bedtime.’
Bianca slumped in her chair. ‘Oh, Mum, do I have to?’
‘Yes. Teeth, toilet, bed.’ Christina shooed her from the room with one hand and cleared the half-eaten plate of pasta with the other. ‘You’re not hungry either?’ she said, picking up Jackson’s plate and taking the stack to the sink.
‘Sorry, CC, but I ate on the plane.’
‘Mummy!’ Bianca yelled down the hall.
Christina turned to Jackson. ‘Why don’t you tuck her in tonight? She’s missed you and she’s put out that you didn’t take her with you.’
‘Really?’
‘As far as Bianca’s concerned, she’s your surf buddy. I think she’d be even more offended if she knew you took Simon and Josh instead of her.’
Jackson looked alarmed. Christina had no idea why. Bianca accommodated the knowledge that Jackson had much older children from his marriage. She just didn’t realise that he still lived with them when he wasn’t around. In Bianca’s mind, he lived in the penthouse because that’s the only place she ever saw him apart from here. Christina swished Jackson with the tea towel. ‘Go on, go and cheer her up.’
Christina listened in whilst Jackson sang Bianca her favourite song. She stacked the dishwasher and put the kettle on. When he returned and flopped back down at the dining table, she handed him the rest of the bottle of tonic. He looked tired and distracted. Christina warmed her hands on her cup of coffee and tried waiting out his silence.
Within minutes she gave in. ‘So you and the boys had a great time?’ she prompted.
Jackson started at the sound of her voice, pausing to register what she had said. ‘Yeah. God I’m tired though. I’m too old to keep up with the young blokes any more. Mind you, there was this one guy, from Pittsburgh of all places, not much older than Simon but about half his size, who left us all dead in the water. He was brilliant.’
Jackson sighed as if deflating. ‘Anyway, enough about the trip. It’s our anniversary. I’m sorry I should have planned something more romantic.’ He gestured for her to sit on his lap and they started kissing. His hands slipped up under her jumper but she could tell his heart wasn’t in it.
‘What’s the matter, honey?’ she mumbled in his ear. ‘Did this afternoon’s efforts tire you out?’
‘Mmm, sorry, CC. I’ve got a lot on my mind.’ Jackson raked his fingers through his hair and leaned back in the chair.
‘Anything you want to share?’ She rested her hands on his shoulders but her senses switched to high alert.
Jackson smiled a thin tight smile. ‘Can you believe it’s been seven years, CC?’
‘I know, it’s gone so fast.’
Jackson returned a faint echo of her smile.
She narrowed her eyes. ‘Jackson, what’s bothering you?’
He didn’t answer, instead picking at a patch of sunburn on his arm. The clock marked another minute and Christina waited for them to reach the point, any point, which meant she wouldn’t be the one to speak next.
Jackson splashed tonic water into his glass and cracked the bottle against the tabletop. He couldn’t even look at her when he said, ‘I don’t know how much longer I can carry on like this, CC.’
The cold words rendered her silent with terror.
‘Seven years of sneaking around like a couple of teenagers trying to hide from the olds. It’s not what you’d call a meaningful relationship, is it?’ He gripped her wrist so tight it burned. ‘You can’t tell me this makes you happy.’
Christina absorbed his bitterness, too wounded to reply. It didn’t matter, Jackson was on a roll.
‘You put your life on hold whilst I am here, then twiddle your thumbs until the next time I show up. It’s pathetic. I don’t know how you stand it.’
His criticism stung. By some unspoken agreement, they always ignored the inconvenient truths of their relationship. It existed primarily within the four walls of Christina’s apartment, without mention of Sarah, school fees or who was going to take the car in for a service. Neither of them wanted a relationship defined by such mundanities. Those rules had been set long ago.
‘So what’s the solution, Jackson?’ she whispered.
‘I think it’s time we put an end to this,’ Jackson stood, forcing her to her feet. He escaped to the window and stared out at the bare branches of the jacaranda.
Seven years together, she thought, and this is it? End of story. Did he expect she’d say, ‘Yeah, it’s been fun but we both know all good things come to an end?’ Shrug it off as nothing more than a budget holiday fling.
In her head, How can he do this? repeated over and over in a vicious mantra. For years she had moulded her life around his, brushed over the times he stood her up or changed plans at the last minute. Alone, crying into her wine, wishing she could confide in Della or have Mary-Lou turn misery into a joke. But she’d made her deal. Bargained with herself about what she was willing sacrifice in order to keep Jackson. Mary-Lou’s words came to her. That statistically speaking, married men rarely left their wives for the other woman and only when their hand was forced. For years her every action, her every word was driven by the need to remind him that she was the good in his life. Every single day for the past seven bloody years.
The fragments of what would remain once Jackson left terrified her. Everything good about herself she owed to him. Around Jackson, she felt capable, clever and sexy. He had mended the self-confidence so shattered by Jamie. She feared that without Jackson her identity would diminish. That she would become a shell of the woman she was today. The panic of it pounded inside her. Only a hair’s breadth of dignity stopped her from flinging herself on his mercy. Christina dared not look at him. She concentrated on staring beyond him to the garden.
‘Taking Simon and Josh away proved what I already knew. Blame me, blame Sarah, it’s kind of irrelevant. The boys are nice to me when I’ve got my hand in my pocket but quite frankly they don’t give a stuff if I live or die. In fact, they’d probably prefer I did die because I’m worth a bucketload more to them six feet under than I am whilst I’m breathing.’ Jackson raked his hand through his hair, ‘And don’t even start me on Ashleigh.’
Christina stayed silent. She knew Jackson had a strained relationship with his children but it was terrible to hear him admit it was beyond redemption.
‘Working with Sarah is a nightmare. We call it creative tension but it’s nothing more than restrained animosity.’
She knew this part of the story too well. She’d seen Sarah at the house once and that was enough. Sarah Plummer came across as an uptight bitch and every story she had heard for the past seven years confirmed this.
‘I got my kicks out of building the business but now . . .’ Jackson trailed off, grabbing the bottle and pouring more tonic. He gulped it down and poured another.
‘But what’s the solution?’ Hope flickered but she tamped it down.
Jackson shrugged. ‘I spend my days in endless bloody meetings. The boredom is driving me insane. Sarah hides behind the numbers because she doesn’t dare say she’s noticed I’m unhappy. Woe betide anyone who shows any emotion.’
She’d heard his sarcastic rants so many time she knew them by heart. This time she wanted more. ‘But what will you do?’
Jackson looked at her properly for the first time. ‘I think it’s time I left Sarah.’
Christina had imagined this moment in so many ways, embellishing the scene in her mind until she could recite it word perfect. Now Jackson had uttered those magic words and they struck her afresh.
‘The key is to divest myself of my commitments at TBK.’
Christina grabbed hold of this, saying, ‘Maybe Sarah could buy you out.’
Jackson shook his head. ‘Honey, if Sarah finds out I’m leaving her for another woman, she’ll have my balls for breakfast. She won’t let me leave with my reputation intact, let alone my bank balance.’
Christina chewed a hangnail. How was it possible to leave Sarah without Sarah knowing? She waited.
Jackson opened the pantry and found the container of pistachios. He poured a few in his palm and cracked a nut. ‘I thought I’d buy a farm.’
Christina bit down so hard on her finger she drew blood. She gasped and shook her hand. ‘A farm?’
Jackson grinned, pleased with his neat, logical solution. ‘Sarah hates the country. There’s no way in hell she’d ever come near a farm. She’s allergic to everything.’
Christina floundered. ‘But what does buying a farm have to do with selling your share in TBK?’
Jackson helped himself to more nuts. ‘Well we’ll need a place to live. You’re always saying how much you miss your parents’ farm. So I thought, obvious solution.’
Christina had never said any such thing. She missed her parents, being at home, not the farm itself. She and Jackson had dreamed of spending a year living in Tuscany sometime in the distant future, never a farm.
‘Honey, think of it.’ Jackson came around the bench, took Christina’s hands in his. ‘If I buy a farm, we can run it as a going concern. Raise cattle, grow olives, whatever. It gives me time to disentangle myself from TBK, which will probably take a good twelve months anyway. In the beginning I’ll be living in two places, but at least it gives us a base to build from.’
Christina jerked her hands away. ‘Two places?’
Jackson frowned. ‘I’ll keep the penthouse. It’s handy, plus Sarah thinks I’m there when I’m with you anyway. There’s no point rocking the boat for the sake of it.’
‘But where will Bee and me be?’ This sounded a lot like Jackson wasn’t changing anything, apart from adding a farm to his property portfolio. She didn’t want to leave Sydney, their life was here.
‘What d’you mean?’ Jackson fetched a fresh tonic from the fridge and held up a bottle of wine in case Christina wanted a drink too.
Christina shook her head. She was confused enough as it was. Alcohol was the last thing she needed. ‘Are you expecting that Bee and I will move to this farm and live there permanently?’
Jackson grinned.
He was so pleased with himself. Why could he not see what a monumental change this represented for her and Bianca?
‘I have a job. Bee’s going into Year 6 next year and then high school. It’s important she has continuity and stability.’
Jackson unscrewed the tonic and took a swig. ‘CC, you always get stuck on the details. I know it’s not Italy but it’s still our chance to be together forever. Since I’m funding this adventure, we’ll do it my way. We both have to make sacrifices.’
‘Hang on a minute, Jackson.’ Christina pressed two fingers to her forehead, attempting to corral her thoughts. ‘Let’s go back a step. Why move to the country? It’d be so much easier for everyone if we stayed in Sydney. What about the ocean? You can’t bear being far from the sound of the sea.’
‘Because,’ Jackson exaggerated his words as if talking to a simpleton, ‘if Sarah or Ashleigh find out we’re playing happy families, they will go bananas. I’ve been looking over my shoulder for seven years, CC. Do you know how that feels? And there I was sitting on a boat in the middle of the Indian Ocean, feeling more relaxed than I had in years.’
Christina’s heart contracted with the hurt of him feeling so free whilst she had been stuck here pining.
‘There I was, miles from anywhere, where no one could see me and no one could give me grief. It made me realise it’s not the ocean that counts, it’s what it represents. That’s why a farm, so we can get away from all this crap. Start again as us, a proper couple.’
Christina ignored her misgivings and focused on what Jackson was talking about. All of a sudden the future was no longer a distant dream. Did the where really matter? It was far better for Bianca to change schools whilst she was still in primary. If they lived near a big enough town, Christina could even run her own design business. She’d always said she’d love to go out on her own. With Jackson’s financial backing she could. Jackson was right. There was no point fussing over the details. She sounded negative and risked killing his enthusiasm. She couldn’t afford to do that – seven years was a long time to harbour hope.
She stepped towards him, so close they breathed the same air. ‘Are you sure this is what you want, Jackson? You’re not just saying this for my sake?’ She searched his eyes for the truth.
Jackson’s expression softened. He rubbed a tender circle on her cheek. ‘I’m so tired of wasting time, CC. If I’m going to spend the rest of my life with you, I’d better get cracking before I’m too old to enjoy it.’ His forehead touched hers, his laugh a sweet breath on her face. ‘All hell is going to rain down when Sarah eventually finds out, but you know what? She’s not the first wife in the world to be left for the other woman and it’s not like she’ll be short of a quid, is it?’
He ran his hands up her arms and held her face with his fingertips, placing a gentle kiss on her mouth. ‘I want to be with the two people in the world who truly love me and make me feel good about myself. I am sick to death of living a lie.’
Their world had turned in an instant. Together. Forever. The three of them. She couldn’t wait to share the news with Bianca.