26

‘I always know it’s you if the phone rings this late at night.’

‘Well, you’re about the only person who I can rely on to help me get to sleep,’ Patricia sighed.

Arthur laughed. ‘That doesn’t sound like a compliment.’

‘You know what I mean.’

‘So you’re having another restless night?’

‘I was lying in bed but just couldn’t sleep. I’m out on the balcony, enjoying a smoke and watching the streets below. They’re as restless as I feel.’

‘What’s on your mind?’

‘I don’t know. Tony’s daughter was here today. She’s as angry with her father as she was when you saw her at Tanya’s. That deep, deep anger that gets richer with time. I tried to show her how much he loved her. I had a clipping in a scrapbook. But opening it was like unlocking a box of memories.’

‘Well, you’ve been fighting the good fight for a long time now. Longer than it would be polite to mention.’

‘You’ve been there as long as I have,’ Patricia replied.

‘True. But you’ve put your heart into it. And I had Sarah and the girls to lift me up. You’ve never had that.’

‘Maybe that’s why they call it a political struggle. It always feels like a fight.’

‘And you’ve paid a high price for it.’

‘I have. I’ve felt myself harden over the years. I don’t know how to compromise.’

‘You might be tough on the outside but I know you, my girl, and there is a very big heart beating in there.’

‘It feels like that soft part gets smaller and smaller. But I’ve seen those people - and you know the ones I mean - who have so much bitterness in them that there is no softness left. I worry I will become one of them, one of those people with nothing but hardness.’

‘You have me.’

Patricia smiled. ‘Yes. I have you. It’s a good friend who lets you ring at all hours of the night understanding that you are an insomniac.’

‘And a not very cheery one,’ Arthur teased.

Patricia put the phone back in the receiver and lit another cigarette. Sometimes speaking with Arthur would soothe her and she would be able to sleep. Other times - and tonight was one of them - she would feel as restless as before she rang.

It had been the talk with Simone and the flood of memories that was haunting her. Even after all these years, she could remember every detail of that time when she had first met Tony. She had watched so intently, playing every scene over and over in her mind, and interpreting every detail.

It was out of character for her to sit quietly by, just watching. While she was outspoken when it came to politics, she found herself mute when it came to her heart. And often, on these nights when she could not sleep, she would think about all the ‘what ifs’, rehearsing what she wished she had said.

Tony was brash even then, confident, but she had always seen beyond that. She sensed he had secrets, that there was much more to him than others knew. And that first time he smiled at her had burnt deep into her memory - the sideways glance, glinting eyes and that dark curl across his forehead. No one would have guessed how much it had melted her heart.

In the throng of the discussions, the heated debates about what to do next, the detailed planning of what to write, what to say and who should do what, Patricia found herself timid when Tony was around. Yet when he flirted with her, she succumbed. Late that night, that fateful night, amid the smell of burning wood and people sweating, the sounds of laughter and guitars twanging, Tony sat down close to her, so close she thought he would feel her heart beating. And that night, under the tents, in the midst of history in the making he kissed her, placed his hands on her body. She could feel her skin respond to his.

And just as Patricia never forgot that night, she remembered the next morning just as clearly. She felt she was shining from within and was convinced that everyone would know just by looking at her. She glowed. He looked sheepish.

But later that same day, the very day that Patricia thought was the beginning, it all ended. Patricia didn’t notice Beth Ann when she first arrived. She was sitting at the back of a group assembled in one of the main tents. Patricia had been watching Tony, following his every move, and saw that his eyes kept being drawn towards the woman who was sitting beside Arthur. Patricia watched as Tony betrayed both her and his best friend to get his heart’s desire.

By that time, things had culminated with the protest too. Everyone knew the police were poised to move so they put the women and children in the frontline. They will not arrest the women, everyone had said. There were arguments that night about what to do but Patricia, so burning with rage about Tony and his easy dismissal, was happy to put herself on the line, to put her slender body in front.

She had linked arms with the others, shouted ‘Land Rights Now’ and sang ‘We Shall Not Be Moved.’ There were hundreds of people standing by, watching - tourists with their cameras, public servants in their suits. It was mid-morning when the police moved in. Their fists smashed against Patricia’s flesh and she ended up in the hospital.

When she was released, she returned to the Embassy. By then Tony had left, following Beth Ann to Sydney.

Patricia had never spoken about that night to Tony. She was glad of the silence, fearing that any attempt to laugh off as a joke a memory she held so dearly would cheapen it. A part of her hoped Tony’s romance with Beth Ann wouldn’t last but deep down she knew it would, could see it in Tony’s face that he loved Beth Ann with the same depth that Patricia loved him.

Patricia kept the scrapbook of him. Not of everyone, as she had pretended to Simone. She didn’t need help to keep her memories, but the clippings represented a part of him that she could have.

Patricia returned to her bedroom. She slipped between the sheets and turned the bedside light off. She could picture the embrace that haunted Simone. She too had heard the rumours over the years, caught the whispers and winks, and she was always curious whether Beth Ann knew. She wondered, couldn’t help herself, that if Tony had chosen her, how she would have coped with his infidelity.

Still, whatever Tony’s faults, she loved him. Always had. Never wavered. Staring at the ceiling, Patricia waited for sleep to come. She wondered how long it would take Simone to realise that to love someone despite their faults, to love the whole person, good and bad, is to truly love them.