Page 80 of Weekends with the Sunshine Gardening Society
Until this morning, and the content of that conversation is why Lorraine’s actually glad Cynthia suggested they go for a walk, because she has something to tell her. It’s taken thirty minutes of walking on this slender trail, where they can barely stay abreast, to work up the courage for it.
‘Yours has been all right, though,’ she says, then clears her throat as if it’s just a casual remark.
‘My what?’ Cynthia says.
‘Husband.’
Cynthia turns and frowns, but she put her sunglasses on a few minutes ago so Lorraine can’t see her eyes.
‘Ex-husband,’ Lorraine hurriedly explains.
‘Oh, yes.’ Cynthia sounds completely uninterested.
‘Pat’s offered to loan Mike money to help with the debt.’
Cynthia stops and puts her hands on her hips before slowly rotating towards Lorraine. ‘What?’
‘You know they’re friends.’
‘Not really. Pat and I don’t chat about much other than Odette.’
Lorraine feels a little sick, like she’s betrayed her friend even though she hasn’t, and wouldn’t. Pat and Mike went off and had a beer, and next thing Lorraine hears is that Pat’s the financial white knight. The source of the money is mysterious but Mike said something about a mine.
‘It’s none of my business, of course,’ Cynthia says, her voice tight, and she starts walking again.
‘It is.’ Lorraine tugs on her arm to stop her just as a woman in a tie-dyed T-shirt pushes past them. Rude! And who wears tie-dye any more?
‘I’ll tell Mike to leave it alone,’ she says.
‘No,’ Cynthia says, stepping to the side of the track as a surfer squeezes past, his board almost whacking Lorraine in the head. She had no idea that the national park track was basically a highway.
‘You need the money,’ Cynthia says.
‘It’s not for me,’ Lorraine hastily explains.
‘It should be. I mean, it should have an effect. If Pat lends Mike money that should take some pressure off you. Shouldn’t it?’
Lorraine tries to calculate all the ways it may or may not help her and simply feels tired in response. ‘Honestly, Cyn, I just wish I could close my eyes and make it all go away.’
She turns and looks beyond the swell. The ocean stretches out beyond them; there’s a yacht further away, and a much larger ship near the horizon. Life is carrying on, goods and people are being moved, surfers are eternally trying to just get on a wave. There are moments when Lorraine thinks her situation isn’t so bad in the grand scheme of things, and others when she thinks it’s the worst thing that’s ever happened to her, and other times when she believes both can be true at once.
‘Perhaps Pat can make that happen,’ Cynthia says, and she puts her arm around Lorraine, who is startled, because it’s not really a Cynthia thing to do.
‘Gee, you must be worried if you’re trying to hug me,’ she says.
‘Or I just wanted to give you a hug.’ She kisses Lorraine’s temple. ‘Mike should take the money. And if all else fails, you and I can move to a cheap property in the hinterland with our children and my grandson and make the best of what we have.’
More surprises from Cynthia, who’s never struck Lorraine as the commune type, although she can’t say she dislikes the idea.
‘You’re on,’ she says.
Then their moment of affection is over because Cynthia drops her arm and steps ahead on the path, and keeps leading Lorraine until they reach Hells Gates, where they turn around and go back to town.
CHAPTER FORTY-TWO
Cynthiacan see a cluster of men outside the Noosa Heads Surf Life Saving Club as she walks down the small hill from Little Cove and onto the beach. She’s barefoot because she wants to put her feet in the water – maybe her whole self. She could have done it at Little Cove, as that beach is closer to home and it’s a picturesque spot too, fringed by pandanus palms by the roadside and rocks on the beach, with a view across Main Beach towards the breakwater and beyond. It’s too close, though, for someone who feels like a stroll, so she plans to amble along the sand on Main Beach for a while, then take a dip – or not – in front of the buildings of Seahaven before strolling back. It’s early enough in the day for the flags to not be up on the beach, so anywhere is fair game for swimming as far as she’s concerned.
When she left the house Odette was still asleep, Jordan in a bassinette beside her. Odette puts it on top of the bed, in the space where another adult might sleep if there was one. It seems to work for them both because he likes a long sleep, that baby, and his mother does too. Which Cynthia completely understands: she remembers those early months and how she felt like her life force had been sucked out of her, only occasionally topped up with food and a swim.
