Chapter 6
Chapter Six
Banora Point
The swimming pool sparkled beneath the morning sun.
Overhead, a light breeze rustled the palm leaves that swayed like wise men nodding their heads to the sounds of chatter.
Retirees lounged by the pool with their open books, oversized sunglasses, wide-brimmed hats, colourful swimsuits and age spots.
Mima sat on the shallow steps, one hand resting on the metal grab rail, the other floating in the clear water beside her.
“And can you believe she had no idea he was seeing other people?” Betty asked, scandalised. “All that time, and not a word to her.”
“I had no idea a retirement village would be such a hotbed of teen-style romantic angst,” Mima replied with a shake of her head.
“No idea at all,” Betty agreed , pursing her lips.
Betty was a plump woman with auburn hair streaked with grey.
Her green eyes were hidden behind a pair of dark sunglasses.
Her skin was even more pale than usual in the cool water of the community swimming pool.
She hovered, floating on a pool noodle as they spoke, her hands swishing back and forth occasionally to keep herself in place.
“Anything new with you?” Betty asked.
Mima loved living close to Betty. The two of them had gotten along ever since the first time they met at a local bingo tournament.
But she also liked to keep some things to herself.
With Edie, she’d shared it all—the triumphs of life, the heartbreaks, the mistakes and the challenges.
But Mima couldn’t bring herself to engage in that level of openness these days.
Keeping secrets for so long had made her wary of opening up.
If she wasn’t careful, all kinds of things might start spilling out before she could stop them.
“Nothing new. Not a darned thing.” She pressed her lips together and stared into the distance.
The phone call from the TV station had shaken her.
There was no denying it. Ever since she took the call, she hadn’t been able to stop thinking about it.
What did they know? How? She had so many questions, but every time she started travelling down that road, a wave of panic almost engulfed her, and she had to stop to do a deep breathing exercise she’d learned at the meditation class she’d attended in the community centre.
The baby had been a good distraction, of course.
She’d gone to see little Noah almost every day since he was born, giving Kate a chance to take a nap while she snuggled him and told him stories.
He was so precious, she could hardly stand it.
Tiny and adorable in every way. She’d always wished she might have grandchildren or even great-grandchildren one day and had been jealous of Edie’s sweet family.
After all, Edie had wanted to be a scientist, while all Mima wanted was to get married and start a family as soon as she’d finished school.
But then the world had been seized by war, and she’d lost the love of her life to the violence.
Edie lost first Charlie in the war and then Keith in that awful car accident.
Now Mima was the one lulling Edie’s precious great-grandbaby to sleep when it should’ve been Edie cradling him close to her heart.
Mima felt a stab of grief at the thought of it.
If only Edie were here, just for a moment, long enough to snuggle little Noah one time and stare into his beautiful dark-blue eyes.
“I’m going to swim some laps,” Betty said suddenly.
Betty struggled with the pool noodle for a few moments, her head dipped under the water, then she came up again to gasp for air as she worked to free herself.
The noodle flew into the air, then landed with a slap against the water’s surface.
Betty stood to her feet, her hair now half-soaked and dripping down the sides of her face.
Mima held in a chuckle by biting down on her lip.
“Darned noodle!” Betty exclaimed. “Okay, love, see ya.”
Then she turned and slowly crawled down the length of the kidney-shaped pool. No one else was swimming, so she had the whole thing to herself, arms carefully curling forwards across the blue water one at a time.
Mima climbed out of the pool, careful not to slip.
It took an effort these days. She grunted over the last step, then stood puffing for a moment to let the water drip off her body and form a puddle at her feet.
She trudged over to the banana lounges where they’d left their things and settled down with her towel wrapped tightly around her body.
“Now, where was that book?” She looked around, searching for her red-and-white striped beach bag, and she spotted Bindi pushing her way through the pool gate.
Light brown hair with blonde highlights pulled into a ponytail, thin frame and freckled cheeks, Bindi looked much younger than her twenty-nine years.
There was an ethereal beauty about her that Mima had always loved.
Bindi was such a sweet, earnest girl. She was opposite to Mima in so many ways, a little like Edie had been in their youth, and she had a special place in Mima’s heart.
Mima wanted nothing more than to protect her, so when Bindi had been diagnosed with cancer, it’d been difficult for Mima to bear.
She was overjoyed that Bindi was in remission and looked so healthy now.
She beamed at Bindi and waved her over. “Goodness gracious! What a lovely surprise. I wasn’t expecting to see you this morning.”
Bindi bent low to embrace Mima before pulling back with a grimace. “Oh, you’re all wet.”
Mima harrumphed. “That’s what swimming does, my dear.”
“I brought chocolate chip biscuits and left them on your front step,” Bindi said. “I would’ve taken them in, but I don’t have a key.”
Mima pursed her lips. “I’ll get you a key. I keep forgetting. It’s this head of mine—nothing like it used to be. I had an iron trap for a memory once upon a time. You just wait, my love. Old age happens to all of us.”
“It’s fine, Mima. Never mind about the key. How are you? Have you been following that diet I spoke to you about? The one in the book?”
Mima tried hard not to roll her eyes. She was grateful for the attention, but sometimes the girls treated her as though she was the child and they were the adults. “The Diabetes Diet for Dummies?”
Bindi frowned. “No, that’s not what it’s called. Something about a full life… I can’t remember exactly.”
“Yes, I’m following the diet. I’ve already lost five kilograms, you’ll be happy to know. And the doctor says I’m doing fine. Thank you for your concern, but I’m not sure chocolate chip biscuits will help.”
“I used high-protein ingredients, and banana instead of sugar,” Bindi said proudly.
Mima arched an eyebrow. “Oh, goody. Sounds delish.”
“They are. I tried one,” Bindi replied. “We could all do with making our food a little healthier. Having so many professional chefs in one family has made healthy eating something of a challenge. But I’m glad you’re doing so well. Where’s Betty?”
Mima pointed at her friend, who was taking a break at the other end of the pool, seated on the stairs, puffing hard. Betty waved, and Bindi returned the gesture.
“Anything else going on? I bet this place is an incubator for drama,” Bindi said with a smirk as she lay back on the banana lounge and crossed one long leg over the other.
“You have no idea, my love. Apparently, Trevor was dating Cecilia but didn’t tell her he was also seeing Margaret. And Margaret had no idea he was sneaking out to see Lynn. It’s all very Melrose Place.”
“You’re hanging with the cool kids now, Mima. It’s to be expected.” Bindi giggled.
Mima hesitated. She wanted so badly to speak to someone about the phone call.
Bindi would understand. She had a history in television—had worked as a journalist in Melbourne before she returned to Cabarita Beach after Edie’s death.
She’d know what to do. But Mima couldn’t bring herself to say the words.
They were words she hadn’t spoken in so long, she wasn’t sure she could even form them with her lips.
As Bindi chattered on about a guest at the inn who was causing them trouble, Mima’s thoughts roved over the past, looking for something to latch on to.
Her mind’s eye travelled back over the years.
She was young again—beautiful and carefree.
Her curls whipped up by the wind as she and Edie skipped through the streets of Sydney to see a newsreel or to meet some men in uniform for a date.
Then the war was over, and Edie had left with Paul. Left her all alone.
Nostalgia washed over her. Swallowing hard, she tried to draw a deep breath, but could feel the sobs rising.
No, she couldn’t let Bindi see her like this.
Bindi would want to know what was wrong, and Mima wasn’t ready to discuss it.
It was too much to reveal beside the community swimming pool.
If she opened up here and now, she’d dissolve into a puddle of tears.
The emotion and grief of it all would overwhelm her.
She’d managed to shove her emotions deep down for a long time—she could continue stuffing them deeper still now that she’d gotten so good at it.
But that phone call had dislodged something.
She’d agreed to their terms and said she’d come on their show.
Why had she done that? Because she couldn’t do or say anything else.
She’d been in shock. She hadn’t wanted the conversation to continue, and the fastest way to end it had been to say yes.
Yes, I’ll do it. I’ll come on your show. I’ll face it all—the things I’ve done and the things done to me, the past I’ve left behind, the pain and trauma I never believed would surface again.
It was like she stood in front of a train, on those two metal tracks, and watched as it barrelled down on her. Her feet were stuck on the railings, and there was nothing she could do to wrench herself free. It was coming, time was running out, and she couldn’t escape.
The TV show would happen. And if she didn’t go, it would air anyway.
She couldn’t stop it. There was nothing she could do.
But beyond all of that, she wanted the truth after all these years.
It couldn’t be real, what they’d told her must be a mistake, yet now that she faced the prospect of revelation, the fear deep down inside her made her want to run.
Could she do it? Could she bring herself to stand tall, walk on to that stage, and confront the past surrounded by all of those people in the live audience?
Could she talk about what she’d endured and how they were wrong, she didn’t have a son.
If she thought about it too long, she’d begin to panic.
But she had to do this. She’d regret it forever if she didn’t.
The best way to cope would simply be to push it out of her mind until the moment she stood at the edge of the stage.
If she didn’t think about it, she could manage.
At least for now. And when it happened, she’d deal with it then.