Chapter 3
Chapter Three
The next morning Jen was awakened by a branch of the pohutukawa tree rattling against her window as if rebuking her for sleeping in. She shot bolt upright, heart pounding, wondering where she was, and whether she or Liam were in danger. And then she remembered.
As the sound of the sea and the New Zealand birdsong continued to soothe her, she rolled onto her side to look across the small landing to the attic bedroom opposite hers.
The door was open and Liam’s bed empty. She’d spent part of the night in bed with him, soothing him after a nightmare.
He’d gone back to sleep pretty quickly, and she’d ended the night back in her own bed.
She’d been moving between beds for so long she couldn’t remember the last time she’d spent an entire night in her own bed. But it was different this morning — Liam hadn’t climbed into her bed upon waking. That was a first.
She got up, pulled on the dressing gown her mother had thoughtfully hung on the back of the door, and looked inside his room. The duvet lay in a heap on the floor, and Liam was nowhere to be seen.
Prints she remembered from her childhood hung on the walls — some original watercolours, others, bright, abstract prints of no value which her middle sister, Ellie, now a high-flying lawyer in Hong Kong, had insisted on buying.
Everyone had always assumed she’d be an artist, but she’d ended up following a more traditional route.
Suddenly she heard Liam’s voice drifting to her through the open window. She walked over the rag rugs which her great-grandmother had made, and peered outside. Kate had responded to Liam, and Jen watched as he followed her around the garden.
To every question Liam asked about why the bird sounded weird, or why the sun moved the other way, Kate answered as if she were talking to an adult.
Liam hung on every word. He was fine. Her mother was fine.
And she? She was more than fine because, for the first time in a long time, it looked as if she could get a shower before going downstairs.
Half an hour later, Jen entered the kitchen.
Nothing seemed to have changed in all the years she’d been away.
The same large pine table dominated the room, the centrepiece to all their family gatherings.
The detritus of daily life — cards, advertising flyers, drawing pins, and keys scattered amongst old-style phones and buttons of all shapes and sizes — cluttered its worn surface.
Amidst it all lay a bowl of fruit and several dog-eared photos, their edges curling with age.
The fruit looked to be the only fresh thing on the table.
She touched the topmost photo but hesitated, knowing she’d be going down a rabbit-hole of memories she wasn’t yet ready for.
Instead, she poured herself a cup of coffee and stepped outside onto the wide verandah. She blinked in the sunlight, still bright although the sun had yet to rise above the mist which lingered over the hills.
‘See this?’ said Kate to Liam. ‘It’s a daphne bush I planted last year.
’ Her mother was as nurturing with her garden as she was with her family.
‘Come over here.’ She tilted a spray of flowers to Liam, who knelt down beside her and inhaled deeply.
He pulled a face and wafted his hand in front of him. ’It’s very smelly.’
Kate laughed. ‘I guess it is.’
As Kate continued to pluck out weeds and talk to Liam about flowers and the soil, Jen remembered her mother telling her about climate change.
She couldn’t have been more than Liam’s age back then.
But she’d understood enough to know it was a bad thing.
She chuckled at the memory, and Liam immediately looked over.
‘Mummy!’ he said. ‘You’re awake!’
She grinned, put down her coffee cup on the balustrade, and held her arms out wide. ‘I am! Where’s my hug?’
Liam came running into her arms and looked up at her anxiously. ‘Are you OK?’ His small voice was laced with worry, a tone far too mature for his tender years. She hated that.
‘Fine, sweetheart,’ Jen assured him, though her heart ached at the sight of the frown which had been absent only moments earlier. ‘And what’s Grandma been showing you?’
‘The garden,’ he said. ‘Those smelly flowers,’ he pointed.
Jen exchanged grins with Kate.
‘Daphne,’ Kate reminded Liam.
Jen could see him test the syllables on his tongue before rejecting them with a brief nod. He hated getting things wrong — and for good reason.
‘I was picking some for the kitchen table,’ said Kate, rising and taking off her gardening gloves. ‘Would you like to pick a few more?’
Liam nodded and went running over to Kate.
He took the proffered scissors and basket and walked across the dewy grass.
As he crouched over the daphne bush, a gust of wind shook the tree’s branches overhead, sprinkling him with the remnants of a recent shower.
He shook his head like a wet dog and turned to them with a grin. Jen grinned back.
‘I think Liam likes it here,’ said Kate, walking up to join Jen on the verandah.
‘He does.’
‘That’s good. It’ll make it easier for him to spend time with me before school starts. If you get a job, that is.’
Jen’s grin disappeared.
‘I’m going to have to get a job. My writing has completely stalled. I’m hoping my mind will miraculously unblock with our return home.’
Kate patted Jen’s hand affectionately before tossing her gardening gloves onto the table and taking a seat. ‘I like that you still think of MacLeod’s Cottage as home.’
Jen shrugged. ‘There’s nowhere else. Only here.’
‘Good. That means you’ll stay, hopefully. Anyway, whether you write — and I’m sure it won’t take a miracle for your writer’s block to disappear — or whether you work outside the home somewhere, I’ll be here to look after Liam until the end of the school holidays.’
‘I’m not sure about school for Liam. In fact, if I can get a part-time job working from home, I was thinking of homeschooling him.’
Jen could tell by the way Kate’s lips tightened that she didn’t approve. But then she knew she wouldn’t. Kate’s entire career had been in the education sector — first as a teacher and then as a policy analyst in the Ministry of Education.
‘You could,’ said Kate after a few moments. ‘Of course, that’s always an option.’
Jen nodded, relieved Kate hadn’t dismissed the idea outright. ‘It’s just I don’t want to plunge him into a new situation while things are still so raw.’
‘I understand.’ The silence lengthened, and for a moment Jen thought she’d got away with it.
‘But…’ Kate turned her expressive face full of love and understanding to her, and Jen knew it wouldn’t be so easy.
‘He’ll need to mix with other children, Jenny.
Keeping him tucked away at the cottage won’t do him any favours.
He’ll learn to stay afraid. He needs to understand there’s nothing to be afraid of. ’
‘But what if there is?’
Kate shook her head. ‘Not here. It’s a small school, lovely teachers.
At MacLeod’s Cove School he’ll learn how to figure out who he can trust, who not to trust, how to live in the world.
I understand that you’re trying to protect him, but I really don’t think that’s the way.
The best way he can protect himself is to learn how to live with people. Not learn how to be alone.’
‘He won’t be alone,’ said Jen.
‘You know what I mean, Jenny.’
‘I do.’ And deep down, she knew her mother was right. Truth was, it was she who was scared. ‘I’ll think about it.’
They both looked at Liam, who had brushed away some sand from the path before kneeling gingerly beside a bright daisy bush.
He dipped his head to smell its flowers, and frowned, obviously confused by the lack of scent.
Kate’s expression told Jen that Liam’s slightly quaint behaviour only confirmed her thoughts.
‘And it’s not only Liam who needs to get out and about,’ said Kate. ‘You do, too. Not only for money, but to find your place in the community once more. And it’ll be easier if Liam’s at school.’
‘You’re right, and I intend to. But I don’t mean to stray far. I want to be home for Liam if he needs me.’
‘So, what do you plan to do?’
Jen shrugged. ‘I’ll write — or try to — and I’ll find a local job or one I can work from home.’
‘Or take up Lucy’s offer?’ suggested Kate.
‘Do you think she meant it?’
‘Yes, of course she did.’
‘It’s just that I don’t have any experience.’
‘It didn’t seem to worry her. Talk it over next time you see her.’
Jen nodded. ‘I will. It would be nice to work locally and then I can help you around the place.’
She glanced at the gutter, which sagged away from the walls, and at a faded curtain, which flapped in the breeze. Its ends frayed where it had caught on a jagged piece of window frame.
‘Who’d like breakfast?’ Kate asked after following Jen’s gaze. Kate was clearly determined to steer the conversation in a different direction.
Liam jumped up, waving the sprigs of daphne he’d cut. ‘Me, please!’
‘And what would you like, young man?’
‘Rice Krispies,’ he replied with the unwavering certainty of a five-year-old who knew exactly what he wanted.
‘I’m afraid I haven’t got any of those,’ Kate replied. ‘I make some yummy muesli though.’
Liam frowned, dropped the basket of flowers onto the damp grass, and walked slowly towards them. ‘I don’t like muesli.’
‘You haven’t tried mine,’ said Kate. ‘But you can have toast or porridge or anything else I have in the larder if you prefer.’ She put her arm around his shoulders and shepherded him inside the house. ‘OK, let’s see if we’ve got anything in here you fancy,’ she said, opening the larder.
Liam pointed up to the top shelf. ‘I like noodles.’