Chapter 36

Beth

When Dad announced that they should rehearse the song that he, Mum, Jarrah and Elijah would be playing at Gran’s funeral I instinctively reached for my bag to leave. However, in light of the conversation I’d had with Mum earlier, I knew that doing so would be repeating the pattern of my self-imposed exile.

They had selected ‘All I Have To Do Is Dream’ by The Everly Brothers – one of Gran’s favourites. Mum said Gran played it on the record player so often that she didn’t know if there was ever a time that she didn’t know the words.

Mum and Jarrah alternated verses, while Dad and Elijah sang back-up harmony and played the bass and acoustic guitar respectively.

As the last of the notes were absorbed by the universe, I became aware of Gerry’s quiet sobs. She was clutching a tissue to her face.

‘Sorry,’ she said through a wet sniff. ‘That was so lovely. Would you believe that song came out the year I left Australia? Elise bought a copy of the album and played it nonstop in the college common room.’

Mum walked to Gerry, sat down next to her and placed her arm around her shoulders.

‘We don’t have to play it if it’s too painful,’ she said earnestly.

‘Oh, you must,’ Gerry said, wiping self-consciously at her tear-filled eyes. ‘It’s absolutely perfect. She would love it.’

Mum, Dad, Jarrah and Elijah played the song through again. I couldn’t remember the last time I saw them perform together; usually by the time the guitars were brought out for a family singalong, I was long gone. They were undeniably good, and their rendition of the song was beautiful.

Mum and Jarrah both had the perfect quality to their voice that would have done The Everly Brothers, and Gran, proud. Their voices were so complementary and they blended so seamlessly that it was like listening to the same person singing in a slightly different hue. And Dad and Elijah played with such effortlessness.

But what set this performance apart from all the others I had endured over the years was that it seemed respectfully understated. There was no twirling or dancing, tricky guitar riffs or vocal acrobatics. It was just four gifted musicians singing a song for someone they loved.

‘Sure you don’t want to join in, Bethie?’ Dad asked when they’d finished the song for a second time. ‘You could help Elijah and me on back-up vocals, or I’m sure I’ve got a tambourine somewhere.’

‘Ha’ I scoffed. ‘Baby steps, Dad.’

Gerry and I gathered our things and said farewell to my family.

As I walked down the corridor, Jarrah appeared at my side.

‘I’m sorry about before. I really don’t want to fight with you, especially about Gran. I know what she meant to you, and you to her. And I never should have put my shit on you. It’s just …’ her voice hovered as she searched for the language to describe our new reality. ‘I’m just really going to miss her.’

‘I know. Me too.’ I hadn’t expected an apology and was grateful to clear the air.

‘She was so proud of you, and I was always a bit jealous of that,’ she continued. ‘I know she loved me, but she was never proud of me in the same way.’

I had never thought of Gran being proud of me before, but I guess she was.

‘I know you think I’m a flake,’ she said, spinning her bracelets around her wrist. ‘But I am trying. Even though you’re younger, you’ve always been so much more “together” than me. You’re so good at managing all the life stuff that I seem to find so hard, and you seem to have it all worked out. Sometimes I feel like I’m floating around at sea, completely rudderless, while you’re living your best life on a utopian island. You’re an inspiration, actually.’

I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. I thought Jarrah intentionally rejected the way I lived my life. I certainly never imagined it would be something she aspired to, and I definitely didn’t realise she was struggling so much.

‘I don’t know about an “inspiration”,’ I replied. ‘I guess we’re all just bumbling through the best way we know how. I know I can be rigid and unaccommodating sometimes. And maybe you were right; going with the flow isn’t so bad.

‘Not with everything,’ I added hastily. ‘But with some things.’

She smiled as though surprised by my admission.

‘The reason I come down so hard on you is because I see that you have so much potential. I just don’t want you to waste it,’ I said.

Mum arrived in the hallway.

‘Everything okay?’ she asked cautiously.

‘Yes,’ I answered, giving Jarrah a meek smile before leaning into her open arms for a hug. ‘We’re good.’

Mum hugged me tightly as she said goodbye, pulling me back into her embrace as I tried to break it. This time I surrendered and hugged her for far longer than was actually necessary. It was nice.

~

As Gerry and I walked up the path at Gran’s place, I spotted a weed that had popped up alongside one of the pavers. I bent down to pull it out, and gave it a firmer-than-necessary tug as if to reprimand it for daring to grow in her garden. The vibrant pink pigface flowers had closed for the evening, and the hum of the insects had quietened as the last of the light had bled from the day. The garden looked more or less like it had a week ago, but somehow the weed I was clutching tightly in my hand was a tangible reminder that Gran was no longer around to care for it.

I wondered what would happen to her beautiful garden and her beloved home. I assumed that in time Mum would sell it, and it would be bulldozed to make space for two or three semidetached units. I shuddered at the thought.

I committed to keeping up with the gardening as best I could in the meantime, but I knew that would be a struggle long-term. The secret of Gran’s gardening was that she was constantly doing it. She didn’t set aside a block of time every other weekend, or dedicate a week at a time to give it a makeover. Instead, she would ‘garden’ every time she walked through it; each time she went out or returned home, she’d pull a weed, prune a bush or fix a fallen stake. And she was forever planting cuttings that she’d taken from plants in the neighbourhood when she thought no one was watching. I knew that no one else would have the time to care for it in the same way and that it would never look the same as when she was alive. It had passed its prime.

I peered into the birdbath and noticed it needed refilling. As I fetched the hose and turned it on, I heard the sound of a vehicle pulling up into the space behind my car. I watched to ensure they didn’t cause any damage; today was not the day for my new car to get its first dint. And who was turning up unannounced at Gran’s house anyway? And at this hour? I hoped it wasn’t any of her friends with flowers. Or worse, another casserole.

The back passenger door opened and a tall figure unfolded from the car.

‘Hello,’ Nick said.

I gasped, dropping the hose, which snaked wildly around my feet.

‘What are you … ?’ I stared in disbelief as my heart somersaulted inside my chest. I couldn’t recall having ever been more glad to see anyone in my life. The warmth of his smile felt like a tonic for my wounded heart. He gathered his bag and walked through the gate towards me. I rushed into his arms and held him tight.

‘Are you going to turn that off?’ he said finally, breaking our embrace and pointing to the hose, which was flipping about madly. ‘This country is prone to drought, apparently.’

Oh, how I had missed his grin.

The water shut off and I spun around to see Gerry standing at the tap, smiling widely.

‘Did you know about this?’

She nodded conspiratorially.

‘Oh, sorry. Did you think I was here for you?’ Nick shook his head mockingly. ‘I missed Gerry so much, I just had to travel eleventy-zillion hours to see her.’

He chuckled endearingly at his own joke as I flung my arms around him again and buried my head in the crook of his neck. I drank in the smell of his skin.

‘I hope it’s okay that I’m here. I know you said not to come, but—’

‘Are you kidding? I’m so happy to see you,’ I whispered into his chest. ‘Thank you for ignoring me.’

‘I’m going to head in,’ Gerry said.

Nick and I stood, locked in what felt like our own private oasis, in the middle of the path, in the middle of the most painful time of my life.

‘When did you leave London?’ I asked, finally releasing him so I could look him over to make sure I wasn’t hallucinating.

‘Well, that’s hard to define with time zones and travel time. I think I left some time before lunchtime tomorrow.’

‘Why didn’t you call? I would have picked you up.’

‘What, and miss the opportunity to see you water your shoes?’

I looked down at my new shoes, which were sodden and most likely ruined. I could not have cared less; Nick was here.

‘But you’ve been messaging me all day. How did you do that if you were on a plane?’

‘They’ve got wi-fi on planes now, you know.’

Of course.

‘I do have something important to ask, though,’ he continued, his demeanour becoming serious.

‘What’s that?’ I urged.

‘May I please use the bathroom?’

‘Of course,’ I said grabbing his hand and leading him up the path and into Gran’s house where I steered him towards the bathroom.

‘Well, you’re a little bit sneaky,’ I said to Gerry when I found her in the kitchen filling up the kettle.

‘Don’t look at me,’ she said, grinning widely. ‘It was all him. I simply gave him the address.’

She looked very pleased with herself.

‘You know, I’ll be fine here if you want to head off to your place for the night. The last thing you want is me cramping your style. I’m sure the two of you have plenty to catch up on.’ Her voice was thick with innuendo.

She avoided making eye contact with me as she busied herself detangling the strings of teabags that had become entwined in the box. But she needn’t have bothered; I was avoiding her gaze too, hoping she wouldn’t notice the heat in my cheeks. I knew from my years of staying in the spare bedroom and hearing my grandparents’ snoring that nighttime sounds carried in this house.

‘Are you sure? I mean, I do need to put some washing on, and I will need to get my clothes for the funeral tomorrow.’ It wasn’t a complete lie.

‘Yes,’ she said sincerely. ‘You two go and have some fun. Tomorrow will be hard, so you should go and enjoy each other.’

I chuckled awkwardly.

‘I mean, each other’s company,’ she said, quickly.

Nick emerged from the hallway looking more comfortable.

‘Oh, that looks good,’ he said, gesturing to the cup of tea.

‘Funny,’ Gerry said. ‘Beth was just telling me about all the different types of tea she’s got at her place. You should head on back there before it gets too late. I’m going to head to bed now anyway. I’ll see you tomorrow.’

She turned and walked out of the kitchen, switching off the light as she left, plunging us into darkness save the tiny green glow from the illuminated numbers on the microwave.

Nick and I moved silently towards each other, guided by an instinctive pull. I stopped just short of him, suddenly self-conscious that I’d misunderstood his intentions. What if I had it all wrong, and he really was just here to see Gerry? Or the quokkas? But as he reached out, drew me in and touched his lips to mine – gently at first and then more wantonly as I kissed him back – I knew that this was definitely something.