CHAPTER FIFTEEN

SOFIA stood at Bonnie’s door laden with rolls of material and books of sample swatches she’d collected from her favourite material shop. With Sofia’s help the painting of the unit was finished and the drop sheets removed.

‘Help me with this, will you?’ Sofia puffed. ‘First we need to decide on the basic colour range for your drapes and soft furnishings. Then we’ll look at whether you prefer block colours or stripes. I can get patterns if you want, but thought it best to stay simple.’

‘Whoa there, sweetie. You don’t let the grass grow under your feet.’

Sofia lay the rolls of material out on the bench top, the sofa and the floor. There were cream ones, white ones and grey striped ones. She grouped them tonally to help narrow the choice and arranged the swatches and colour cards to match.

‘I prefer the beige-related tones,’ she said. ‘I think they give more depth and warmth, while still being fresh.’

Bonnie hated beige, but admitted it could work in the small space, as long as there were dashes of colour in the unit, perhaps in paintings on the walls. Sofia suggested plantation shutters for the front windows to replace the old curtains.

‘Stop. You’re doing my head in,’ said Bonnie. ‘And there’s something important I need your opinion on.’

Bonnie’s mobile phone rang. It was Carol who was downstairs and wanted to come up and look at the unit. Much as Bonnie enjoyed being with Carol, and the usual cut and thrust of their banter, this was one time when she’d hoped to have Sofia to herself for a while so they could have a private chat.

‘Darling, I need to talk to Sofia about something,’ Bonnie said to Carol when she arrived a few minutes later.

‘That’s all right, you can talk to me as well. Two heads are better than one, you know,’ said Carol. ‘Or is there a secret going on between you two?’

‘I’m not being secretive,’ replied Bonnie, even though she was. ‘It’s just that I wanted Sofia’s opinion. And I already know what your opinion will be.’

Bonnie took an extra chair onto the balcony so they could all sit outside.

‘As you know, I’m having tap lessons with Katharine and Melissa,’ said Bonnie. ‘I’d forgotten how much fun it was and I’ve decided to buy the shoes. Melissa suggested I go to the shop in Brisbane where you buy yours.’

‘That’s a great idea,’ said Carol. ‘But I don’t understand what the problem is.’

Bonnie drew in a deep breath, wishing Carol would wait for her to finish.

‘Now Katharine wants to visit the suburb we grew up in and our old school,’ said Bonnie. ‘She’s desperate to see the house where I lived and Mum is still there even though the house is ramshackle.’

‘You could take Katharine to visit your mother,’ said Carol.

‘That’s the problem. Mum doesn’t know I’m back in the country or that I’ve met Katharine.’

‘But she’s your mother,’ said Carol. ‘Doesn’t she have a right to see you and to meet her granddaughter?’

‘You and your rights. She lost the right when she made me give Katharine away,’ said Bonnie.

Bonnie was fed up with Carol’s black and white view of her situation. She wondered whether Carol had ever considered that what was true wasn’t always what was right.

‘Nevertheless, she’s still your mother,’ reasoned Sofia.

‘I knew you’d take Carol’s side. Sofia, for once I want your own opinion.’ Bonnie wished Sofia would speak up and give a more palatable view.

‘That’s not fair, I do give my opinion,’ said Sofia. ‘It’s just that what’s right is complicated. Sometimes it’s important to see different sides and weigh up the best course of action. Not just rush in and be brutally honest.’

‘See. I’m right,’ said Bonnie.

‘I didn’t say that,’ said Sofia. ‘Look, Bonnie, I know how hard it was for you with your parents and I can see why you wouldn’t want to involve your mother now. I just don’t see that there is any value in you carrying all that anger around with you. Maybe what you need is to face your mother and tell her how you feel for your own good.’

‘Katharine should have the opportunity to know who her grandmother is, whether you want her to or not,’ said Carol. ‘We could come with you if you need support. It’d be fun to visit our old haunts.’

‘Sure. Fabulous fun at my expense.’

‘Stop being so dramatic,’ said Carol.

Bonnie felt ganged up on. She’d walked right into this trap and couldn’t find a way out of it. She decided to agree now and hoped she could weasel out of the visit later. She felt sure no good would come of it.

A revved up motorbike sped along the road below, momentarily drowning out the sound of the surf and breaking up their conversation.

‘And while we’re at it,’ said Carol when the bike had passed. ‘I’ve been racking my brains about the father and can’t think of anyone who died in an accident around that time. I think it’s high time you told us what happened.’

Bonnie slumped in the chair. She’d held onto the story of Katharine’s father’s death so long, it almost seemed real. And yet she knew Carol wouldn’t let it go. Like a dog with a bone, she’d keep digging until she uncovered the truth.

‘Bonnie, whatever pain you have suffered, we’re here to support you now,’ reasoned Sofia. ‘A former colleague of mine had a similar experience of adoption and told me some birth mothers never reveal who the father is and a few even lie to divert attention from him.’

Bonnie felt as though Sofia had seen through to her core. To the place where she’d hidden her memories, as if she’d opened the closet door and switched the light on.

‘You two are like bad cop, good cop,’ said Bonnie. ‘Truth is, the father didn’t die. He’s still alive.’

‘I knew it! So who is he?’ persisted Carol.

‘I told you, it’s sensitive and complicated. He’s become important and is married.’

‘That’s okay.’ Sofia turned to Carol. ‘Bonnie will tell us when and if she’s ready and I think we should respect her wishes.’

Before Carol could ask a follow-up question, Katharine arrived back from the recreation room and Bonnie diverted the conversation to talk about the soft furnishings.