Seven
Gill had cleared her diary for Monday and spent the weekend catching up on paperwork, including a terse reply to her solicitor regarding Max’s latest litany of claims. Now she was free to make the trip to Bellbird Bay to visit the Women’s Centre. Alison Wells had been most welcoming when Gill contacted her about a visit, and she was looking forward to meeting this woman she’d read so much about.
It was a pleasant drive down the coast. Unable to bear what she considered as time doing nothing, Gill tuned into one of her favourite podcasts. A Podcast of One’s Own , produced by The Global Institute for Women, was a series of podcasts hosted by former Australian Prime Minister, Julia Gillard, each episode featuring her in conversation with prominent female leaders. In this episode Julia was chatting with feminist icon, Gloria Steinem, on what feminism means today . It proved to be uplifting listening and most appropriate as a precursor to her visit.
Soon Gill was turning into the entrance to draw up in a spacious car park close to two long single-storey buildings surrounded by trees and bushes. When she got out of the car, she saw a sign pointing to the office and a board which appeared to show a map of the centre.
She was about to examine it when she caught sight of a tall, elegant woman walking towards her. As the woman came closer, Gill could see she had short, grey-streaked hair brushed back from her face and was casually dressed in a pair of jeans and a loose white shirt. The woman offered her hand. ‘You must be Gill Dickson. Welcome to Bellbird Women’s Centre. I’m Ali Wells.’
‘Hello, Ali. Thanks for agreeing to see me.’ Gill shook the outstretched hand.
‘I’m always delighted to show off what we do here. You said you’re a divorce and family lawyer. I’m guessing you’re pretty familiar with the issues the women here have had to deal with.’
Gill nodded.
‘Why don’t we have a cup of tea first, then I can show you around?’
‘Thanks, that would be great.’
As Ali led her into the building, Gill gazed around, seeing several women and small children. The only male in sight was busy trimming a tall hedge.
The office into which Ali led her was a comfortable room with a lived-in feel, one wall filled with shelves overflowing with books. Along another was a sofa. There was also a low coffee table and several plants in colourful pots. On yet another wall were a series of watercolours and a number of framed photographs.
Seeing Gill gazing around, Ali chuckled. ‘I know what you’re thinking. This doesn’t look much like the sort of office you’re familiar with. It was what I thought on my first visit. It was nothing like my university office. I’ve kept it exactly the same as Maxine Henderson, the previous director had it, partly in her memory and partly because it makes the women feel more at home. Now, peppermint tea okay for you?’ she asked, as a young woman appeared in the doorway.
‘Lovely, thanks.’ Gill understood what she meant. She was beginning to feel quite at home here too, although the furnishings were very different from those in her apartment.
Over tea, accompanied by tasty slices of banana bread, Ali outlined the work of the centre and the affiliated women’s refuge, providing Gill with more information than she could have hoped for. She filed much of it away for future reference, knowing a time would come when one or more of her clients would have need of the support Ali and the centre offered. Sadly, for some, divorce alone wasn’t the answer.
After a tour of the facility, Gill and Ali shook hands again. Ali had readily agreed to speak to the members of Gill’s Zonta group, and the visit had given Gill much food for thought, making her realise that, despite her challenges with Max, she was a lot better off than many others.
Driving home, Gill didn’t need the distraction of a podcast. Her mind was filled with what Ali had told her and what she’d seen. She wished there was something she could do to assist the centre and the women who sought help there. Ali had filled her in on its history and on the story of Maxine Henderson who had been director for a number of years before her untimely death. The centre had been operating in one form or another since the 1990’s and offered a variety of services to women – not only those who had experienced rape or were suffering from domestic abuse. The centre itself dealt with sexual assault, homelessness and women’s health and ran a number of workshops, including sessions for yoga, music, gardening, cooking, and even a writing group.
There hadn’t been time to visit the women’s refuge which was located separately from the centre to provide the security its clients needed, but Ali had suggested Gill could visit it at another time.
It was all so much more than what Gill had to offer. It made her feel her work on assisting her clients with their divorce or family law disputes was merely a drop in the ocean.
As she approached Pelican Crossing, Gill debated with herself whether to go into the office, but it was mid-afternoon and she knew if she did, she’d only get caught up in whatever had come in that day. She had the urge to talk with someone, someone unrelated to the stories of domestic violence she’d just left, someone who could help her recover a sense of normality. She found herself heading for the house on the bluff belonging to Rachel. Of all the friends she lunched with, Rachel was the one to whom they all gravitated when they needed to let off steam or to ask for advice. Right now, Gill needed neither. She just needed to see a friendly face.
Two small children and one small, white dog were playing a game on Rachel’s front lawn. At the sight of them Gill felt the familiar ache at the thought she might never have grandchildren of her own, might never even know if Freya gave birth. She’d forgotten Rachel often looked after the girls during the week. She was about to turn the car around when Rachel came out of the house and looked towards her.
Gill sighed and got out of the car.
‘Gill. This is a lovely surprise. Not working today?’
‘I had a meeting in Bellbird Bay.’ Gill knew this didn’t explain why she was here, but she knew it would satisfy Rachel. She was the least curious of her friends.
‘I was about to call the girls in for afternoon tea. You’ll join us? I’ve just taken a batch of ginger scones out of the oven.’
‘Yum,’ called the girls in unison as they almost fell over each other and the dog, rushing past Gill to be first into the house.
‘Hands washed first,’ Rachel called after them, shaking her head. ‘Those two terrors will be the death of me,’ she said to Gill, ‘but I’m going to miss them when they start school next year. I don’t know what I’m going to do with myself. Emily’s too little to be much company as yet,’ she added, picking up her youngest grandchild who was only a year old, and had been playing happily with her toys, unconcerned with what her older sisters were doing.
Once inside, Rachel settled Emily in her highchair, made lemon and ginger tea for herself and Gill and poured two glasses of milk for the girls, and water into a Sippy cup for Emily. The girls drank their milk down quickly, then each taking a ginger scone, liberally spread with butter, dashed off again followed by the little dog.
‘Peace again,’ Rachel sighed. ‘But I wouldn’t be without them.’ She peered at Gill. ‘You look as if you’ve something on your mind. Want to talk about it?’
‘Not really.’ Gill took a sip of tea. But the urge to confide in Rachel was too strong. ‘I’ve spent the day at the Bellbird Women’s Centre . I initially only went there to meet the director and persuade her to give a talk to the Pelican Crossing Zonta group… and I admit I was curious to see the place. I’d heard a lot about it, about the previous director and how the new one was carrying on her mission.’
‘And did you… persuade her to do a talk?’
‘Yes, that was the least of it. Seeing all those women, Rach. And the children… It was… I hadn’t realised.’ She took another sip of tea. ‘I get the easy bit… helping women end a difficult marriage, obtain a fair settlement, gain custody of their children. Today I saw the other side of it, the women who have nowhere to go. And I didn’t even visit the women’s refuge. They have women come there from all over the state. And I thought my situation was bad.’ She muttered the final words under her breath.
‘Don’t put yourself down. You do good work. Everyone has a different cross to bear.’ Rachel’s eyes clouded.
‘Oh, Rach, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean….’ How could Gill have forgotten Rachel’s husband’s drawn-out death.
‘I wasn’t talking about myself. I’ve read a lot about domestic violence, how it can happen even in the wealthiest of homes, and the violence isn’t always physical.’
‘It made me wish there was more I could do,’ Gill said.
‘As I said, you do good work. You provide a necessary service to the women in Pelican Crossing. And it sounds as if what the Bellbird Women’s Centre provides is a different and equally necessary service. You complement each other. Can you look at it like that?’
The two women sat in silence for a moment, each lost in thought.
‘You’re right,’ Gill said at last with a sigh. While she might want to do more for the women she’d seen and heard about today, there were only so many hours in the day, and hers were fully taken up. She could still hear Max’s complaints about the amount of time she spent at work and in what he referred to as her good causes , and it had increased exponentially since he left.
Gill and Rachel chatted on about more inconsequential matters, the children running in and out, pursued by the little white dog, till Rachel said, ‘Jess will be here soon to pick those two and Emily up. Would you like to stay to dinner? I don’t have any guests at the moment,’ she said, referring to the visitors who regularly stayed with her since she’d turned her home into a B&B.
Gill checked her watch, shocked to discover how much time had passed since she arrived. ‘Thanks, but no, Rach. I need to check in on things. I’ve been out of touch all day. It’s been good to talk with you. You’ve helped me get things into perspective.’ She rose and hugged her friend. ‘Thanks again.’
‘Any time. Are you sure you’ll be all right?’ Rachel’s forehead creased. ‘You can’t help everyone, Gill. Remember that and be sure to look after yourself.’
‘I will.’ Gill smiled as she left Rachel and made her way to the car, sorry to leave the comfort of Rachel’s family kitchen.
It was only when she stepped into her own spartan apartment that Gill realised how, over the years, even before she and Max went their separate ways, she had built a barrier around her emotions, preferring to put her energy into helping others while ignoring her own needs. Maybe it was time to change.