Page 77 of Weekends with the Sunshine Gardening Society
‘It’s fine.’ Cynthia smiles. ‘We all have enough to think about and we fit more in, don’t we?’
‘Yeah.’ Kathy smiles gratefully. ‘Well, I’m just not sure if I should try to talk to someone at the council about it. To see if it can be stopped.’
Jordan squawks again and Cynthia bends towards him, checking quickly, then straightens.
‘It’s absolutely worth trying. Let me talk to my father about it – he’s been involved in council on and off over the years, he might know someone.’
‘That would be great,’ Kathy says, relieved. ‘Thank you.’
Cynthia smiles mischievously. ‘Look at you, the gardening activist.’
Kathy laughs nervously. ‘I wouldn’t go that far! I just enjoy what we do. Seeing things become pretty. You know.’
‘I do – although there’s nothing wrong with being an activist. I’d say Shirl’s one, wouldn’t you?’
Kathy thinks of Shirl with her machete and her lectures about native plants. ‘Yeah.’
‘It’s great you joined us. And while Barb and Shirl wouldn’t say it, I’m sure they appreciate how much extra time you’re putting in, doing that mowing for that gent in Peregian and – what’s the other one? You’re helping that old lady in Yandina with her front garden. That must be your Sundays all used up.’
Kathy shrugs. ‘I have the time. And I enjoy it.’
Barb had told her that the Sunshine Gardening Society tend to take on projects rather than maintenance – unless it’s for the council – but that individual members have, over the years and in certain circumstances, helped members of the community with odd jobs. Two calls had come in close together and Kathy had volunteered to attend to both. And she’s found she likes to help people.
Just then Cynthia’s gaze shifts to something over Kathy’s right shoulder and Kathy feels a squeeze on her arm. Her first thought is that it’s a co-worker – who else would she know around here, apart from Cynthia and Lorraine and Elizabeth? – so she turns with a smile prepared.
And sees Jemima. Standing with a woman around her age, their body language indicating the closeness of their connection.
‘Kathy!’ Jemima says, and as Jemima attempts to hug her Kathy’s shoulders stiffen. Why is she trying to hug her? Why is she trying to be any kind of affectionate after what she did?
Kathy’s eyes meet those of Cynthia, who is looking concerned, and Kathy wonders what expression she has on her face. Cynthia doesn’t know her well enough to read subtle cues, but Jemima does and she’s persisting with the hug.
As Kathy smells her perfume she wants to collapse, because Jemima’s scent brings everything back, then she feels like screaming because Jemima keeps hugging her, then she wonders if she can fight her way out of this without it seeming violent. All of that probably takes twenty seconds but it feels like twenty minutes, and by the time Jemima lets her go Kathy’s throat is tightening and her breathing is becoming rapid and she wonders what the hell is happening.
‘Are you up here for a little break like the rest of Melbourne?’ Jemima grins, showing that snaggle tooth Kathy once found endearing.
‘Um …’ Kathy’s floundering, caught between wanting to appear as though her life is cool and wonderful and in control, and trying to work out why her chest is tight now too and the sound in her ears is going funny.
She and Jemima had talked about taking a holiday in Noosa Heads. Not just talked – planned. They’d booked accommodation and thought that driving up would be a great adventure. Kathy had never felt so carefree and giddy, like she’d been waiting her whole life to be with this woman and do things, go places, she would never have otherwise. That was just before Jemima left her, and after that Kathy realised the holiday discussion had been a con, that Jemima had been willing to go so far as to make a booking while already planning to leave. Or at least hadn’t been interested enough in Kathy to stay long enough to take a holiday with her. So Kathy feels sick – stomach-churningly, bile-rising sick – to see Jemima here. It’s almost like a taunt; notthat Jemima would know she moved here. And how would she explain that? Would she say that Noosa represented everything that was beautiful and savage about their relationship and she came here to try to understand it?
‘She’s staying with me,’ Cynthia says loudly – or maybe it just sounds loud to Kathy. ‘We’re old friends. And you are?’
‘Jemima. And this is mybestfriend, Caroline.’
Jemima puts her arm around Caroline’s shoulders and squeezes, and Kathy now feels like she could vomit all over their shoes. Maybe that’s what she should do, to register her complete and utter discomfort at being here, forced to see the woman she loved so much so clearly not in love with her.
‘Well, Jemima, nice to meet you.’ Cynthia gives that fake bottom-half-of-her-face smile Kathy saw her use once on a nosy council ranger. ‘Kathy and I are due to meet my daughter on the beach, so we’d best be off.’
Cynthia grips Kathy’s wrist with one hand and with the other pushes the pram in the direction of the sand. And while Kathy still wants to vomit, she’s also never felt so grateful and relieved in her life. She doesn’t look back to see what Jemima’s doing because there’s a noise in her ears, like a pounding, and she can’t quite get her breath.
‘Stop,’ Cynthia commands. ‘Sit.’
She practically pushes Kathy onto a seat that’s covered in small graffiti, right at the entrance to the surf club car park. Cars and people are going past but all Kathy can hear is her heart, and that noise in her ears.
‘Head between your legs,’ Cynthia says firmly and she puts her hand between Kathy’s shoulder blades, which is the most comforting feeling in the world, then bends down so her head is next to Kathy’s.
‘Just keep your head down until your breathing comes back to something resembling normal,’ she murmurs.
Seconds pass, then minutes. Kathy has no idea how long she has her head down, but eventually the noise in her ears subsides and her breathing has slowed, so she lifts her head.
