The Mothers' Group (41 page)

Cara laid down the letter and stared at the ceiling.

This isn't
Eat, Pray, Love
, she thought. There
is
no happy ending.

‘What are you doing?' Richard watched her, stunned.

She turned from the vanity towards him. ‘Putting on lipstick.'

His mouth worked silently for a moment. ‘It's . . . nice to see.'

She began applying blush to the hollowed recesses of her cheeks. She'd lost far too much weight.

Who am I? She wondered, staring into the mirror. I don't look the same. I don't feel the same. I'm not me anymore.

She picked up her handbag. ‘I'm going out,' she said. ‘To the Delamere Clinic. Miranda's in there again. She's relapsed a few times since . . .' She still couldn't bring herself to say the words. ‘Pippa's picking me up.'

Richard frowned. He laid a hand on her arm, preventing her from brushing past him. ‘Are you sure you're ready for this?' he asked. ‘You haven't been outside for months. And . . . do you really want to see
her
?'

‘Yes,' she said simply.

Richard looked uncertain. ‘Well, can I pick you up afterwards?'

‘No, thanks,' she said. ‘Pippa will drop me home.'

A horn tooted outside.

‘There she is now.'

Climbing into Pippa's car, she tried to ignore the obvious signs of Heidi. The half-eaten crackers, the smell of stale milk, the soft toys dangling above the car seat.

‘Hello,' she said, clipping her seatbelt into place.

‘Hi,' said Pippa. ‘How are you?'

Cara didn't know how to answer that truthfully. ‘Oh, you know.'

‘I'm pretty sure I don't,' said Pippa. ‘No one can, I imagine.'

Cara leaned back in the seat and stared out the window. ‘You're right.'

They drove the rest of the way in silence. Pippa didn't attempt to force the conversation, and Cara had nothing to say. She looked through the window at the world outside, spinning violently without end.

The Delamere Clinic was an unassuming cream and blue building on an ordinary suburban street. Just like any other block of units, Cara thought, bar the notice hanging in the foyer:
Change is the first step in a
lifelong recovery process.
A middle-aged woman in a pink blouse sat behind a reception desk. She looked up from her paperwork and smiled at them.

‘We're here to see Miranda Bianco,' said Pippa.

She nodded. ‘Please sign in, then go through to the visitors' area at the rear. Follow this corridor, turn right at the cafeteria, then you'll see it. Visiting hours finish at eleven o'clock.'

Pippa glanced at her watch. ‘Twenty minutes will be plenty.'

When they rounded the corner at the cafeteria, Cara immediately spotted Miranda among the residents and visitors gathered in the courtyard. She was sitting on a long wooden bench, her head bowed. A slim book lay on the bench next to her, open at the centre. In profile, she was still striking. Cara waited for the anger to rise, tsunami-like, inside her. But looking at Miranda now, she felt nothing at all. Miranda looked fragile. As if, with a breath of wind, she might shatter into a thousand pieces.

As they walked across the courtyard, it became evident that Miranda was talking to someone. It was Suzie, crouched on the other side of the bench. Cara could see from her heaving shoulders that Suzie was crying. Miranda's eyes were closed and her forehead knotted with pain. Cara stopped, reluctant to move any closer. Pippa hovered next to her. Neither of them spoke.

Miranda's eyes flew open. She looked at Cara, her mouth opening slightly with alarm or shock.

Suzie followed Miranda's gaze.

‘Oh.' Suzie sat back on her heels. ‘I didn't hear you. It's nice to see you both.' She wiped her eyes. ‘Miranda and I were just . . . Well, I had an apology to make.'

Cara looked from one to the other. Both of them looked like they'd been crying for some time.

‘Don't we all?' said Miranda. She pushed herself off the bench with bony hands.

Cara watched her, a skeleton moving under skin. Human bodies are so feeble, she thought. Astrid had abandoned her little body so quickly, they couldn't call her back.

Miranda took several steps towards Cara.

‘I've thought about this moment a thousand times,' she said. ‘I didn't think I'd ever get the chance.' Her chest heaved. ‘You trusted me. And I failed you.' Tears coursed down her cheeks. ‘I wish I could give up my life for Astrid's.'

‘You and me both,' whispered Cara.

‘I won't ask your forgiveness,' Miranda said. ‘I don't expect that, ever. But I want you to know, I will pay for Astrid's death every day for the rest of my life.'

‘So will I.'

I wish we were both dead
, Cara thought.
It was my mistake, but
you
let it
happen
. She screwed her eyes shut against the anger.
It won't bring her back.
Nothing will.

When she opened her eyes again, Miranda was still hovering before her, like a pale apparition.

Cara shook her head.

Then, weary of everything, she extended her hand.

Miranda caught it between hers.

‘Hello.' A familiar voice interrupted them. Made stood behind them, carrying two trays of takeaway coffees.

Miranda dropped Cara's hand.

‘Sorry I late, I bring the coffee,' said Made.

‘We need some,' said Miranda with a weak smile.

Made looked around the group. ‘It good to see you all.' She placed a soft hand on Cara's arm. ‘Especially Cara.'

Made's touch was tender. For all of Richard's attentiveness since Astrid's death, he hadn't been able to touch her. She hadn't wanted him to. But Made's hand on her arm now seemed to reach into her chest and gently hold the pieces of her heart. Tears obscured her vision.

A squawking sound made Cara start. She sank into a chair at the sight of Wayan, sitting in his stroller behind Made, grinning his warped, toothless smile. His limbs were much longer. Dark hair flopped over his ears and his hands strained at the harness that confined him.

‘You want come down, Wayan?' Made unbuckled him. He slid deftly to the ground and proceeded to walk unassisted.

‘Here, Cara, coffee.' Made passed her a cardboard cup. Cara sucked at the hole in the lid, her eyes trained on Wayan. His haemangioma was still prominent, a purple cleft across his lip. And yet he was perfect, Cara thought. Such exquisite beauty in his humanity. They watched him potter about the courtyard, examining chair legs and pot plants and cracks between the tiles.

‘When do you fly out to Bali, Made?' Suzie asked suddenly.

‘Wednesday next,' said Made. Her smile was electric. ‘I see family soon.'

Suzie nodded. ‘I know how you feel. I'm moving back to Queensland.'

The others made noises of surprise.

‘I've made some mistakes.' Suzie glanced at Miranda. ‘And the cost of living in Sydney is too high. It'll be sad to leave Monika, but . . .'

‘You don't have to do that on my account,' said Miranda suddenly. ‘It wasn't your fault.'

Of course it wasn't her fault, Cara thought. It was mine.

Suzie sighed. ‘I just really want to go home.'

There was silence for a moment.

‘So do I,' said Miranda. ‘I've been in here three times in four months.' She dabbed at the corners of her eyes. ‘There's no quick fix for my problem, though I wish there was, for the kids' sake. They're doing okay at Hendrika's, but it's been very destabilising for them. As for Willem . . .' She sighed. ‘Things aren't looking good for us.'

She picked up the black volume on the bench next to her. Cara wondered briefly if it was the Bible, if Astrid's death had prompted some kind of religious conversion. ‘Ginie sent this to me,' said Miranda, looking up. ‘It's Daniel's novel.'

She turned the book over in her hands, fingering the raised silver lettering on the plain black cover.
Blameless
by Daniel Hargreaves.

Cara nodded. She'd received the same gift from Ginie several weeks previously, but she hadn't even opened it. She couldn't possibly tolerate reading about the fictional lives of others with her own in such disarray.

‘Yes, I saw a review of it, then Ginie sent me a copy,' said Suzie. ‘It's dedicated to Ginie, you know.'

Pippa gave a little grunt of surprise.

‘I haven't seen Ginie since . . .' Pippa reddened. ‘Since I said some things to her I shouldn't have. I need to call her and apologise. She didn't tell us that Daniel was working on a novel.'

‘I didn't think it would ever get published.' Cara turned to see Ginie, right there.

‘Oh . . .' Pippa's face was flushed.

‘Hello.' Ginie looked around the group. ‘When Made told me you'd all be here today, I just had to come.'

She stepped forward and laid a hand on Miranda's shoulder. ‘How are you?'

‘I've been better,' said Miranda.

Ginie nodded. ‘It must be hard.'

Then she turned to Cara. ‘Are you . . . alright?'

Cara shrugged.

‘Stupid question.' Ginie shook her head. ‘I'm full of them.'

Ginie seemed different, Cara thought. Still tall and angular, but softer, somehow.

Ginie gestured to the book in Miranda's hands. ‘I didn't take Daniel's work seriously. In fact, I didn't take
him
seriously.' She sat down on the bench next to Miranda. ‘Daniel and I have been going to a relationship counsellor. You got us there, Pippa. Here's your copy.' Ginie riffled through her bag, then passed a book to Pippa.

Pippa flushed a deeper red. ‘I'm really sorry about what I . . .'

‘Don't be.' Ginie cut her off. ‘You told me what you saw that day. That's fair enough.' She looked around the courtyard. ‘The thing is, Daniel swore he wasn't unfaithful. He's admitted he got too intimate with Nicole, and I'm furious with both of them. I had to fire Nicole, and it's been a bloody disaster for my work.' She put her head in her hands. ‘I've also had to tell Daniel that just because he didn't put his dick in, doesn't mean everything's okay between us.' She looked up. ‘It's not as straightforward as it looks. Daniel should
never
have got that close to Nicole, but after Rose was born, I stopped making an effort with him. I wasn't affectionate, I couldn't be arsed. But it's hard when you've got a baby, isn't it?' She hesitated. ‘Anyway, you mightn't understand, but I've had to recognise
my
role in this whole bloody shambles.'

Pippa moved closer to Ginie, laying a hand on hers. ‘I think we
do
understand.'

Ginie's eyes filled with tears. ‘I've got an apology to make, too,' she said. ‘To all of you. But especially to you, Pippa. I've said and done some things in this mothers' group that I'm not proud of. I've done a lot of soul-searching and I want to say sorry for being so . . . judgemental.' She looked around the group. ‘I've finally figured out that I'm not in control. No one is. Daniel tried to tell me that and so did you, Pippa. And you were right.'

The tears slid down her face. Suzie rummaged in her handbag, pulled out a tissue and dabbed at Ginie's cheeks.

‘Thanks,' said Ginie. ‘I'm giving Daniel another chance. I have no idea if we'll make it, but we have to try. I mean, apart from anything else, there's Rose to consider.'

No one said anything.

Miranda thumbed the book on her lap. ‘Daniel writes really well.'

‘Yes, I'll give him that,' said Ginie. ‘And it explains a lot about what Daniel went through as a teenager. The main character causes a car accident that kills his parents.' Ginie shook her head. ‘It's quite a dark book, but there's hope in there too.' She looked directly at Cara. ‘The boy emerges from his guilt, eventually, a better person. Not perfect, but whole.'

Cara stared at Ginie a moment.

But books are like that, she thought, with their endings tied up in pink bows. Her own life was a wasteland. With Astrid gone, she would never be whole again.

Someone coughed behind her.

‘I'm sorry,' said a grey-haired woman with a kind face. ‘But visiting hours are almost over. It's group time now.' Residents and their visitors began moving indoors.

‘Thank you, all of you, for coming,' said Miranda. ‘Especially
you
, Cara.' She turned to Suzie. ‘I'll call you when I'm home next week. Let's finish that conversation.'

Suzie nodded, her face weary.

They walked together back across the courtyard, through the administration building and towards the entrance. As they descended the stairs onto the street, Wayan tugged at Made's skirt and pointed to his nappy.

Made laughed and turned to Cara. ‘Wayan growing so big now,
he
tells
me
when to change nappy.'

Cara smiled, tears running down her face.

‘What are you doing
now
?' Richard leaned in the doorway, a haunted look about him.

‘I'm going away for a while.' She placed the last of her clothes in a neat pile in the suitcase, next to her toiletry bag. She didn't need to take much. You could buy almost anything there, she'd heard.

‘For how long?'

‘I don't know.'

‘Where?' His voice was shaking.

She plucked a photo frame from her bedside table and removed the image inside.

‘Remember this?' She smiled, smoothing the crease in its centre.

‘Of course I do.'

The three of them—Cara, Richard and Astrid—seated in their sturdy Toyota sedan, poised for their first ever journey together, home from hospital. Cara could remember how nervous they'd felt, strapping their newborn daughter into an oversized car capsule. Richard had driven so slowly that drivers behind them had honked their horns in frustration. They'd hoped against hope that nothing would go wrong: that Astrid wouldn't cry, need feeding or changing or, God forbid, that an accident might occur. At the time, the short drive home had seemed like a gratuitous risk. But they'd smiled at each other and driven home anyway, trusting that everything would be alright.