Almost Perfect (33 page)

Anna sat in the chair, her mind drifting; she wasn't really listening to Evelyn, the words were floating free-form past her. She was picking up one or two of them, here and there. She hadn't been able to focus properly since the other day, the day Mac came, and left again.

‘Anna?'

She stirred. ‘Yes, Evelyn, go on, I'm listening.'

‘No, you're not.'

‘Pardon?'

‘You're not listening, you haven't been listening to anything I said. You're just like my husband, this is exactly what he does, just like I told you . . .' Her voice
began to undulate, like a radio tuning in and out. Anna was only able to catch fragments, snatches of what she was saying. ‘Never takes his eyes off the TV . . . doesn't matter what's on . . . just won't listen . . .'

‘Then leave him!' Anna blurted suddenly.

Evelyn jumped, clearly startled.

‘If he's that bad, if you really can't stand him, then leave him. But you won't ever do that, will you? Because what would you have to complain about then? And who would you have to blame for how unhappy your life is? You'd only have yourself, and that wouldn't be any fun. You couldn't come here harping on endlessly . . .'

Anna froze. What was she saying? Evelyn looked exactly like some kind of tiny, furry animal caught in the headlights of a dirty, big four-wheel drive bearing down upon it. A big four-wheel drive with Anna behind the wheel. She had put on the brakes, but too late, she feared.

‘Excuse me for a moment?' she said as she leaped from her chair and disappeared through the door. She looked around the waiting room. Empty. Good. Think, think. It's four-thirty. She had no more clients today, thank God.

‘Dr A?'

Anna jerked her head around. Kerrie was standing behind the reception desk, watching her, frowning.

‘Are you all right, Dr A?'

She took a deep, calming breath before she spoke. ‘Yes, thank you, Kerrie. Is he with someone?' she asked, cocking her head towards Doug's office.

‘Not till five.'

‘Could you . . . would you mind seeing Mrs Delaney out, Kerrie? Please make my apologies and tell her I'll be in touch in a day or two. Oh, and don't bill her for today.'

Kerrie was clearly puzzled, but Anna knew she could count on her to do as requested and not ask any questions. Anna walked over to Doug's office and knocked lightly on his door. She heard a muffled ‘Come in', and slipped inside, leaning heavily back against the door as she closed it behind her. Doug swivelled around in his chair, standing immediately when he saw the expression on Anna's face.

‘What is it, Anna?' he said, his voice steady but full of concern.

That was it. Anna erupted into tears, holding her hands over her face, ashamed, embarrassed, despairing. She felt Doug's arms close around her. He held her gently in the circle of his arms, but the tears kept coming, and then she started to shake. She felt like she was going to fall apart, like a car in a cartoon, parts would start springing off and she'd collapse in a heap of useless metal, hissing and steaming.

Doug stepped back to look at her, holding her firmly by the arms. ‘Anna, what is it?'

‘I feel like I can't catch my breath,' she gasped.

‘Here, sit down.' He led her over to a chair and she sat. ‘Put your head down and breathe slowly.'

He patted her back rhythmically, and after a while Anna found herself breathing in time, calmer. Eventually she sat up straight. Doug poured her a
glass of water from a jug on a tray on his desk and handed it to her.

‘I feel ridiculous,' she muttered, taking the glass from him.

‘Well don't.' He passed her a box of tissues and she took one, wiping her eyes and sniffing.

‘I just told off Evelyn Delaney,' Anna blurted, shaking her head. ‘Abused her, insulted her. I must be going mad.'

‘You're not going mad, Anna, though I'd prefer it if we use a less pejorative term.' He paused. ‘What happened with Mrs Delaney?'

Anna was thoughtful. ‘I don't know. I don't know where it all came from, I didn't even realise I was saying the words until I heard them coming out of my mouth.'

‘Do you remember what the words were?'

‘I told her to stop harping and leave her husband. But then I suggested she would never do that because then who would she have to blame for her problems?' Anna held her hand to her mouth. ‘Oh my God. How could I say that to a client, to anyone? I am going mad, I'll hand you my resignation tomorrow.'

‘And I won't accept it,' said Doug firmly. ‘Though I am going to insist that you take some time off, Anna. Where is Evelyn now?'

‘I asked Kerrie to take care of her, see her out, not bill her of course.'

He nodded. ‘A “mad” woman wouldn't have had the presence of mind to organise that.'

Anna looked at Doug. ‘What's the matter with me?'

‘You tell me.'

She shrugged. ‘I've been finding it hard to focus all week.'

Doug watched her, waiting.

‘I saw Mac,' she said quietly. ‘He came over to sign some papers, we're putting the house on the market.'

‘Anna,' he chided gently, ‘you didn't say anything.'

She shook her head. ‘I didn't think it was such a big deal. It was just the next step.'

‘A fairly major step, I would suggest.'

‘I don't know. I don't really care about the house. I'll be glad to be out of there, to be honest.'

‘What makes you say that?'

‘It doesn't mean anything to me any more,' she tried to explain. ‘It's strange, to have been together for so long, and then there's nothing.' Anna gazed across the room. ‘We had it all out. Mac said some things . . . things I didn't realise . . . that he'd been unhappy for a long time.' She paused. ‘You know, he said that I was more upset about losing the chance to have a baby than about losing him.'

‘How did that make you feel?'

‘Terrible, I couldn't believe he thought that of me.' Anna swallowed. ‘But then when I thought about it . . . the emptiness I felt after he left . . . The thing is, if I was ever going to have a baby, a family, it was going to be with Mac. It's too late for me to have a chance with anyone else. So maybe he's right.'

Doug let a moment pass before speaking. ‘Anna, you are dealing with loss on many levels. And perhaps focussing on the lost opportunity to have a
child is easier than dealing with feelings of abandonment or rejection.'

Anna blinked at him.

‘May I be frank?' Doug asked.

‘You mean you haven't been already?'

Doug smiled faintly. ‘Anna, psychologists are their own worst enemies. We're expected to have the answers to everybody else's problems, but we're not always so adept at handling our own. You have had a very difficult time over the past few years, and I think you need some space to work through that.'

‘I've got plenty of space, too much in fact. All I have is space. If I don't have work . . .'

‘You'll always have work, as soon as you feel ready to come back to it,' Doug assured her. ‘But I think we both know it's not appropriate for you to see clients at the moment.'

‘Of course, you're absolutely right.'

He checked his watch. ‘I'd like to get Kerrie to begin contacting your clients, with your permission, as soon as possible.'

Anna nodded.

‘Why don't you go back to your office?' Doug suggested. ‘Take your time, you might want to pack up some things. I have a client shortly, we can talk again afterwards.'

Just after six there was a light knock on her office door and Anna called, ‘Come in.'

Doug entered, closing the door behind him. Anna had put away the files from the day, but that
was as far as she'd got. She had been sitting there for the past hour, lost in thought.

‘You know, Doug, I might come in another time, perhaps on a weekend, and sort through in here.'

‘Of course,' he dismissed. ‘Are you all right?'

She nodded. ‘Did Kerrie say anything about Evelyn Delaney?'

‘You don't have to worry,' Doug assured her. ‘She was a little bewildered apparently, but she was fine.'

Anna stood up.

‘Come on, I'll walk you out to your car.'

There was no one waiting in the reception area and Kerrie was at the desk finishing a phone call to one of Anna's clients.

‘Yes, that's right, we'll call you in a month to reschedule . . . Thank you too. Bye now.'

‘A whole month?' Anna sighed, propping an elbow on the reception desk. ‘What am I going to do with myself for a whole month?'

‘You have a house to sell, and you have to find somewhere else to live,' Doug reminded her. ‘You'll have plenty to keep you occupied.'

‘May I make a suggestion, Dr A?' Kerrie said tentatively.

‘Go ahead.'

‘Two words: “folk art”. Saved my sanity when the kids started school. I didn't know what to do any more without them running around my ankles. Then I saw a course advertised and I said to myself, I said Kerrie, that's for you. Well, not only did I end up with some beautiful handcrafted decorator items for the home, it gave me the confidence to take on a
computer skills course, and one thing led to another and here I am.'

Doug had been listening with some amusement. ‘And what would we do without you?'

‘Oh, Dr Doug,' she dismissed, but she was clearly chuffed.

‘Thank you, Kerrie,' said Anna, ‘you know, for taking care of things.'

Kerrie waved it aside. ‘Not a problem. Go and enjoy your time off. We'll see you soon.'

‘She has a point, you know,' Doug said as they left the building.

‘I'm sorry?'

‘Kerrie, what she said about finding something to do.'

‘You think I should take up folk art?' Anna asked.

‘It doesn't have to be folk art, but I think it would help you to have some other focus.'

Yes, she would need another focus . . . now that she didn't have work, or a husband, or a baby. Or a hope, it seemed.

‘Hi Georgie?' called Louise.

‘In here, in the bathroom.'

Louise appeared in the doorway. ‘I tried knocking.'

‘Sorry, couldn't hear you from here.' Georgie was
sitting on the floor between the toilet and the shower recess, her back against the wall, resting her head against the cistern.

‘You're still throwing up?'

‘No, I'm thinking about taking up plumbing, so I'm acclimatising.'

Louise put her hands on her hips. ‘Sarcasm a side effect of the illness, is it?'

‘Sorry,' said Georgie, smoothing the hair back off her forehead. ‘I'm just in a bad mood.'

‘I can understand that.' Louise crouched down to Georgie's level, frowning at her. ‘Have you got a temperature?'

‘I don't think so. I feel flushed when the nausea hits.'

‘What about the rest of the time?'

She shrugged. ‘It comes and goes in waves. Sometimes I even feel hungry, but if I eat anything my stomach says, you've got to be kidding, I'm not having that in here. And up she blows.'

Louise grimaced. ‘Well, I brought over some flat lemonade and arrowroot biscuits.'

Georgie managed a weak smile. ‘Mum used to give us that when we were sick.'

‘Mine too. I think it's in the users' manual.'

‘There's a manual?'

‘No, actually. More's the pity.' Louise sighed, watching her. ‘Why don't you come home with me?'

She shook her head. ‘I don't want to infect you all, especially the kids. I'll be okay.'

‘Nick's going to get into a lather when he hears how crook you are.'

‘Then don't tell him. He's been such a mother hen lately, ever since . . . you know.'

‘Okay, but I'm going to make an appointment for you with Dr Gupta tomorrow morning. I'll come by and pick you up.'

‘Oh, Louise, what good's a doctor going to do?'

‘Gee you're right, six years of medical training, a decade or more in general practice, but why don't we humour him and see what he can come up with?' said Louise drily. ‘I'm worried about you, chook. You don't look that good, and this has been hanging around for weeks. It's not your average, garden-variety bug.'

Georgie looked wide-eyed at her. ‘Do you think it's something serious?'

‘No,' she replied firmly. ‘I just think it should be checked out.'

‘Okay, I'll go to the doctor as long as you don't tell Nick, at least till we know what it is?'

‘Deal.' Louise looked thoughtful. ‘There's no way you could be pregnant is there?'

Louise and Georgie sat in the car staring out at the ocean, not saying anything. In fact, they hadn't spoken a word for probably ten minutes. After leaving Dr Gupta's rooms Louise had driven straight down to the
beach and pulled in at the carpark. She hadn't asked Georgie if that's what she wanted to do. She didn't need to. It was midweek on a coolish autumn day and the beach was almost deserted. Georgie stared beyond the curved sweep of the shore to the golf course on the northern headland. She wondered absently if they lost many balls over the cliff.

Louise reached across and took hold of her hand. She wasn't the most demonstrative person, so Georgie always knew it was a big deal when she displayed affection of this kind.

‘Didn't you realise you were late?' she asked.

Georgie shook her head. ‘You know how irregular I am, and with everything that's been going on . . . I couldn't even tell the doctor the last time I had a period. That's why he wants to send me for an ultrasound, to work out how far along I am.'

‘Well, it was before Christmas, wasn't it?' Louise persisted. ‘And we're almost April. You must be four months, or more. I'm surprised you're not showing, at least a little.'

Georgie didn't say anything, gazing out to sea.

‘Well?' Louise prompted.

She shrugged, still not saying anything. Louise turned around in the seat, narrowing her eyes suspiciously as she considered Georgie. ‘What are you not telling me?'

Georgie sighed loudly. She supposed it was fairly pointless being coy about it now. It was going to come out eventually. ‘It was late January.'

‘What? But you'd broken up by then. It is Liam's, isn't it?'

‘Louise!' Georgie groaned.

‘Sorry, I'm only trying to figure it out.'

‘Remember the night he came to the shop, when Adam walked in on us?'

‘He walked in on you!' Louise exclaimed.

‘No, just after . . . we'd finished . . . ugh, do I have to paint you a picture?'

‘I'd rather you didn't.'

‘Anyway, don't you think you would have heard about it by now if Adam had actually walked in on us?'

Louise nodded thoughtfully. ‘So where were you? Not out in the middle of the shop, I hope?'

‘No! We were in the office.'

Louise curled her lip. ‘Please tell me you didn't have sex on my desk.'

‘No, don't worry.'

‘My chair?'

‘No!'

She frowned. ‘Well, where then?'

‘Look, never mind, okay?' Georgie was getting frustrated. ‘It's not really the issue, is it?'

‘No, you're right.' She paused. ‘But how did it happen? I thought you were really strong that night. It's when he finally got the message to leave you alone.'

‘I was strong. He just, well, he got the better of me at first, talking me around, trying to get me to admit I was in love with him . . .' Her voice faded.

‘Are you still in love with him?'

‘I don't know,' Georgie sighed. Of course she was still in love with him, she was deeply in love with
him. Liam was painfully, immutably, stubbornly lodged in her heart, and Georgie had never found the strength to evict him. ‘I try not to think about it.'

‘You're going to have to think about it now, one way or the other,' said Louise. ‘Are you going to tell him?'

‘Oh God, I don't know,' she breathed. ‘I don't know what I'm going to do.' They sat quietly for a moment. ‘God, I can count on one hand the number of times we had sex, and it was the one and only time it was unprotected.'

‘You're your brother's sister,' Louise muttered.

Georgie turned to look at Louise. ‘How did you feel when you found out you were pregnant with Molly?'

‘Georgie, that was completely different–'

‘Just tell me what it was like. Did you go to the doctor, or did you do the home test? Did you announce it to Nick?'

Louise sighed. ‘Nick was the one who went out and bought the home test kit. He was so excited. I kept trying to tell him it was too early, leave it, we'd find out soon enough. But he couldn't wait. He was like a big kid himself.' She smiled faintly, thinking about it.

‘I've had so many fantasies . . . I'm guessing that doesn't surprise you,' Georgie added wryly. ‘But I always imagined meeting my husband for dinner in our favourite restaurant, telling him in some clever, romantic way . . .' She dropped her head, hoping Louise wouldn't notice that her face was all contorted trying to hold back the tears.

‘Georgie?'

She couldn't hold back any more. The dam burst and she began to sob violently. Louise put her arms around her, hugging her tight. That only made her cry harder.

Eventually Georgie calmed down a little, sniffing and wiping her cheeks with the palms of her hands. ‘It's just,' she blubbered, ‘it wasn't supposed to happen like this. It was supposed to be a wonderful thing, a happy thing. I've always wanted a family of my own. But this is a disaster. I can't have a baby to a man who's married to someone else . . .' Her voice started to break and she took a deep, tremulous breath. ‘But what if this is my last chance? I don't know if I can give that up. But then it can't all be about me either, it has to be what's best for the child. Can I bring up a child without a father? Is it selfish to want a baby on my own?'

‘Georgie, this is a huge decision,' said Louise. ‘I don't know what to tell you, no one can tell you what's the right thing to do. But you know I'll be there for you. We all will be.'

Georgie nodded.

‘And in the meantime,' Louise added, ‘you're better off not doing anything.'

‘What do you mean?'

‘Well,' she faltered, ‘it's just that, maybe you shouldn't have the ultrasound yet.'

‘Why not?'

‘It'll be easier to be . . . objective.'

Louise watched Georgie as tears filled her eyes again. ‘How am I supposed to get through this?' she
breathed, her voice barely making it out of her throat.