Five
As always, Gill returned refreshed from her early morning swim, arriving home just as the resident pair of kookaburras were starting their morning chorus. Rising before sunrise had become a habit, and she loved driving to the beach before the sky turned light, while most of the residents of Pelican Crossing were still asleep. It gave her a sense of freedom, a feeling of being at one with the universe.
The water had been cold on this winter morning, so as soon as she was back in her apartment, Gill headed for the shower. Standing under the blast of hot water, which felt like needles on her chilled skin, she began to warm up. It was a great way to start the day.
Dressing in one of her workaday suits, black today, she chose a bright green shirt, drew a brush through her hair and headed into the kitchen. She boiled water for her morning herbal tea, choosing strawberry and echinacea this morning, dropped an egg into a pot of boiling water and a slice of sourdough bread into the toaster, before opening her iPad to check the day’s news.
There were the usual news items about fighting overseas, the ongoing issue of youth crime, and the upcoming state election. Then Gill’s eyes were drawn to an item about domestic violence. One more woman was reported to be missing, believed dead. She shook her head. When would men stop harassing and killing their wives? It was an ongoing challenge and what she saw in her practice was only the tip of the iceberg. At least Max had never been violent towards her or Freya.
She was eating her breakfast, when she recalled an earlier news item. It had been a few years ago but had impressed her at the time and she’d vowed to do something about it. But things got in the way. It had been about a development down the coast in Bellbird Bay which combined a women’s centre with a rape crisis centre and women’s refuge. It had made the news when a new director had been appointed, the previous one having passed away suddenly.
Googling Women’s Centre, Bellbird Bay , Gill found the website. It had been revamped from the one she remembered, and there was a bio of the current director. Alison Wells had a background in teaching Women’s Studies at a university in Perth and had followed in the footsteps of the previous much-loved director, Maxine Henderson, a woman Gill had heard of, and whose work she admired.
Reading about the centre again reinforced Gill’s previous decision, but this time she was going to do something about it. She’d make time in her busy schedule to visit the centre, she decided. She was interested in meeting Alison Wells to find out if there was some way they could collaborate; perhaps Alison would be willing to come to talk to one of the groups Gill belonged to in Pelican Crossing. Zonta was an organisation dear to Gill’s heart, perhaps more so than any of the others she belonged to and used for networking. It promoted women’s rights, advocating for equality, education and an end to child marriage and gender-based violence, making it a perfect fit for Gill’s own beliefs.
Deciding not to delay any longer, she sent an email to Alison Wells, detailing her background, her interest in the centre and asking if she might visit and have a chat with the director.
Then she sent her daily text to Freya in the hope that this time she’d receive a reply, though in her darkest moments she doubted her daughter even opened the texts. At least Freya hadn’t blocked her… yet.
*
The morning passed uneventfully, a partner’s meeting, two new clients and a lot of paperwork. It was a relief when one o’clock rolled round, and Gill was able to take a break. Sometimes, she ate at her desk, but today, she felt like getting away from the office. She pulled on her suit jacket, slid her bag over her shoulder and headed out, telling her PA to leave any messages on her desk.
Outside the office, she stood still for a moment, breathing in the fresh air. Although she loved her job, she sometimes hated being stuck in an office all day. The street was empty save for a man walking his dog. The chocolate-coloured labrador reminded her of a pet she’d had when she was growing up. Brownie had been a faithful friend, the repository of all her dreams and goals, things she’d never share with her parents or schoolfriends. She’d cried buckets when the animal was run down by a careless driver, refusing to get another pet as none could replace Brownie in her life. She felt her eyes moisten at the memory, before dismissing it as the sort of sentimentality that had no place in her present life.
Gill quickly made her way to her favourite lunch spot. Books and Coffee was close to her office and was a combined bookshop and café. It was located on a corner, with each part having a separate entrance. The bookshop was managed by the owner, Lou, a lively woman in her sixties, and the café by Ron and Denny, a couple who cooked the most delicious food and who, in Gill’s opinion, brewed the best coffee in Pelican Crossing.
Breezing through the bookshop with a wave to Lou, who was busy with a customer, Gill entered the café section to be met with the mouthwatering aroma of coffee. While she preferred her herbal tea with breakfast, there was nothing like a good cup of coffee to rejuvenate her.
‘What’ll it be today?’ Denny asked, when it was her turn to be served. ‘We have the vegetable lasagne you like, and strawberry and white chocolate muffins just out of the oven.’
‘Hmm.’ Gill checked out the blackboard menu on the wall behind Denny. The muffins sounded yummy, but she didn’t feel like lasagne, more like… ‘I’ll have the pumpkin soup with sourdough,’ she said, then after a moment’s hesitation added, ‘and a muffin.’ She could always take it back to the office for later.
As Gill turned from the counter, she noticed a familiar face at a corner table. ‘I didn’t know you lunched here,’ she said to Olivia. ‘Mind if I join you?’
‘Please do. I love the atmosphere here, and today I just needed to get away from work.’
‘You, too?’ Gill chuckled. ‘I love what I do but sometimes…’ She grimaced.
‘I know what you mean. I’m guessing that, like me, your clients tend to drain you.’
Gill looked at her friend in surprise. This wasn’t something they’d ever discussed. Gill had never revealed to anyone how she often felt like banging her head against her office wall, especially if the other party was being particularly stubborn. Then there were the times when she came off the phone to her own solicitor…
Although she knew how as a counsellor, Olivia must deal with some difficult situations, Gill hadn’t gone to her professionally, merely discussing her predicament with Max and Freya over coffee. Now she felt guilty for unloading her problems on her friend, who was probably tired of dealing with the challenges of her clients. Her concern must have shown on her face – although she could maintain a poker face with her clients, it often let her down with friends.
‘I was happy to be of assistance to you, Gill,’ Olivia said. ‘Don’t imagine I wasn’t.’
‘Thanks.’ But Gill still felt guilty. ‘Don’t interrupt your lunch for me,’ she said, noting Olivia had put down her cutlery while they were speaking.
‘Not a problem. I was almost finished anyway.’ She forked up a few more pieces of her pasta.
Gill’s soup arrived, the pumpkin soup topped with a generous dollop of sour cream and accompanied by a chunk of sourdough bread and a tiny dish of butter. The muffin sat on a separate plate.
‘Can you bag the muffin for me, Denny?’ Gill asked.
‘Sure thing. Would either of you ladies like coffee?’
‘Yes, for me,’ Olivia said. ‘Gill?’
‘Yes, please.’ She didn’t think she could face the afternoon without a caffeine hit.
‘How are things with you and Max?’ Olivia asked, harking back to their earlier conversation once Denny had left.
‘Don’t ask!’
‘That bad?’
Gill nodded. She didn’t want to talk about it. ‘What’s happening with you?’ she asked, knowing Olivia’s life was no picnic either.
To her surprise, Olivia smiled. ‘Nancy’s pregnant again,’ she said.
‘Your oldest?’
‘Yes. This will be grandchild number three,’ she said. ‘It’s such a pity they’re all living so far away. At least Dylan is still in Queensland, though…’ she sighed. ‘I know how difficult it must be for you with Freya. Still no word?’
Gill shook her head, her heart contracting as it always did when the subject of Freya came up. Olivia’s daughter and grandchildren might live on the other side of the world, but they were in regular contact via Facetime, and her son made frequent trips back to Pelican Crossing to visit his mum.
She picked up her spoon and started on her soup. ‘This is delicious,’ she said, hoping to change the subject.
But Olivia hadn’t finished. ‘Nancy wants me to visit them,’ she said.
‘And will you?’ How Gill wished Freya wanted to see her.
‘I’m thinking about it. It’s a long time since I took a proper holiday. But it’s a long way, and I’d have to arrange for a locum to look after my clients. It wouldn’t be easy.’
‘But possible?’
‘Anything’s possible.’ She checked her watch. ‘I’m sorry. I need to go. I have a client coming in fifteen minutes.’
‘Good to see you,’ Gill said. But was it? Talking with Olivia, hearing about her daughter, only emphasised the rift between her and Freya, a rift her daughter showed no signs of attempting to heal.