Making Peace Read online

  ‘So where’s this garden of yours that needs taming,’ he said, his voice a little higher pitched.

  She wanted to say, ‘It’s okay, there’s no need to be nervous.’ Instead she said, ‘This way, out the back.’

  ‘You have a very nice home,’ he said, as they made their way through.

  ‘Thanks. I’ve lived here my whole life. Tristan and I took it over when Mum and Dad went to live in a retirement village,’ Hannah was surprised to find herself saying. But while they were mere acquaintances, they were also so much more than that. Bound by the tragedy. ‘I’ve given your details to a few of my friends, so I hope you’ll be getting some more work.’

  ‘Thanks very much. That’s very good of you. Things have picked up a little, come to think of it.’

  ‘Here we are,’ she said, opening the back door and stepping onto the deck. ‘It’s mainly those fruit trees,’ she said, pointing. ‘They weren’t done last year either. I don’t think.’ Suddenly she couldn’t remember. The thoughtful men in her street had done her lawns and weeding for many months. Had they also done her pruning?

  ‘You know, I can’t remember now if they were done or not.’

  ‘It’s okay,’ Henry said, placing a hand on her arm. ‘It doesn’t matter,’ he added as she stared at his hand. ‘It really is a beautiful garden.’

  ‘Thanks, though I can’t take any credit. It was all Dad. I’ve thought about putting in a pool, actually.’

  ‘Oh. Well, that might be nice, too. Okay, so prune the fruit trees. Would you like me to tidy up those shrubs along the fence as well?’

  ‘That would be good, thanks. Whatever you think should be done. I don’t really have a clue of what needs what.’

  ‘Your dad did a great job of designing a relatively low maintenance garden, so there’s not a whole lot to do other than the pruning and just a bit of a tidy. You’re only talking about three hours work. I’d be happy to do it now. And I’d be happy to do it as a favour – on the house.’

  ‘No, we discussed that. You’re not doing it for free. You’re running a business, Henry. Please, do a proper quote.’

  ‘How would one hundred and twenty dollars be?’ he said with a resigned sigh.

  ‘Fine with me, as long as you’re not short-changing yourself.’

  ‘I’m happy if you’re happy.’

  ‘Okay, then. The only thing is I’m not sure I have that amount in cash on me.’ Hannah only liked to keep a maximum of one hundred dollars in her wallet. How much did she currently have? ‘I’ll have to check.’

  ‘Ah, not a worry. We can always sort it out later.’

  ‘Okay. Is there anything you need? There are some tools in the shed.’

  ‘No, thanks, I have everything in my trailer. Do you have a side gate I can use? I don’t want to bring ladders and things through the house and make a mess.’

  ‘Yes, just around that side,’ Hannah said, pointing.

  ‘Great. I’ll get cracking, then.’

  ‘Yell out if you need me.’

  Hannah found herself standing at the back door and watching Henry getting set up and then working. Had he always been so hunched over, looking weighted down and resigned to what his life had become, or was that a result of the accident too? It made her sad to watch him move as if he were an old man instead of someone supposed to be in his prime. When he looked up and caught her eye and waved, she moved away. The man deserved to get on with his work and not feel spied on, distrusted. She went to check her wallet for cash to pay him.

  *

  ‘Hannah?’ Henry called from the back door and knocked. Hannah hurried out.

  ‘Yes, I’m here.’

  ‘Can you just check you’re happy with what I’ve done and there isn’t anything I’ve missed?’

  ‘You were quick.’

  ‘Three hours, like I said.’

  Hannah had the strange feeling time had skipped. After he’d started work, she’d retrieved what cash she had and then sat in her office, first reorganising papers that didn’t need reorganising and then scrolling through Facebook on the computer. She hadn’t really been able to settle and could now see what her mum had meant about not being comfortable having a cleaner – or any other help – come in.

  ‘That’s great. Thank you so much,’ she said after looking around the garden.

  ‘It was my pleasure.’

  ‘Would you like a cup of tea or coffee or a cold drink before you head off?’

  ‘That would be lovely. I’ll just pack everything away if you’re sure there’s nothing else you want me to do.’

  ‘No. I think that’s all. You’ve done a great job.’

  ‘Thanks. It’s amazing how a bit of pruning goes a long way towards giving the whole garden a neater, fresher look.’

  A few minutes later, Hannah heard a gentle tap on the glass of the back door.

  ‘Come through,’ she said. ‘The bathroom is just there if you need to wash up.’

  ‘Thanks, but I’m all good. It’s unusual to have anyone home so I’m completely self-sufficient.’

  ‘Before I forget,’ she said, ‘here’s seventy dollars. It’s all I’ve got on me. So if you could just give me your direct deposit details, I can do a transfer for the rest right now on my phone.’

  ‘Oh. I’m afraid I don’t have them. Louise always took care of that side of things. Could you write out a cheque?’

  ‘Um, no, I’m afraid not. I don’t have a cheque book.’ Hannah couldn’t remember the last time she’d seen one, let alone written out a cheque. ‘Can you log into your online banking on your phone and get the BSB and account number that way?’

  ‘Oh, well, I’m not sure.’ Henry pulled out his phone and stared at it as if he’d never seen the device before.

  Hannah suddenly felt very young. And a little annoyed and frustrated. She hated things left unresolved.

  ‘How about I text you so you have my number and then when you get home and find the details you text them to me?’ Hannah suggested.

  ‘Why don’t we just not worry about it – it can be my treat,’ he said.

  ‘No, Henry, that’s no way to run a business,’ she said, trying to hide her frustration. He’d been split up from his wife for months, if he couldn’t take care of the most basic things, it was no wonder he was struggling with his business. ‘So, what can I get you – tea or coffee, or would you prefer a glass of cold water?’

  ‘Tea would be good, thanks. White with two.’

  ‘Okay. Coming up.’ As Hannah put some slices of cake on a plate, she told herself to calm down. Not everyone was well organised. It takes all kinds had been a favourite saying of both her parents. She’d get the money to him somehow.

  ‘Here we are,’ she said, putting the cake and mugs down on the table and taking a seat.

  ‘This is good. You really know the way to a man’s stomach.’

  ‘Thanks. I’m glad you like it.’

  ‘So, how come you’re home on a Friday?’ Henry asked with his mouth still half full.

  ‘Oh. I’ve gone part-time. And I’ll be working from home. My boss has started his own business so I’m going to be working for him – doing his marketing and running his office.’

  ‘That’s great. I need someone like you to keep me on track,’ Henry said with a tight laugh.

  What about your wife? Hannah wanted to say it, but couldn’t make the words come out. He was clearly depressed, maybe a bit on edge as well as being down. She didn’t want to upset him and risk making him angry.

  ‘You’ll figure it out,’ she said instead, and took a sip from her mug. As much as she wanted to help and didn’t like anyone feeling out of their depth when she could see a way through, she also knew that it wasn’t for her to sort out. Of course she could offer to take over his books, sort out his business affairs, but she realised that wouldn’t help Henry in the long run. She could give him some tips right now, but he seemed a little fragile. He wasn’t ready to hear constructive feedback. He needed
to climb out of his pit of self-pity first. She could be completely wrong, and she was no psychologist, but Hannah thought that maybe Henry had to stop feeling sorry for himself and get his act together. Jesus, he’d lost his job, but losing his family was about him walking away from them, not actually losing them. Hannah took a large bite of cake to stop herself from inadvertently expressing her views.

  ‘Can I get you anything else?’ she asked.

  ‘Actually, a glass of water would be nice. Just out of the tap is fine.’

  Hannah leapt up, got it, and returned. She stayed on the edge of her stool in the hope she looked restless and he’d head off. Too much longer and she might just begin to share her thoughts. She made a point of looking at her watch, and said ‘Oh’ quietly. Unfortunately Henry chose that moment to pick up his glass and look around the kitchen, and completely missed her hint.

  ‘You really do have a lovely home.’

  ‘Thanks. I like it.’

  ‘Louise and I bought a little fixer-upper-er when we got married. A weatherboard. In Yarraville. It’s been a labour of love. I guess it will have to be sold.’

  ‘I’m sorry to hear that,’ Hannah said.

  ‘Thanks.’

  ‘I’m really sorry to cut this short, Henry, but I’m going out to dinner and I need to get ready.’

  ‘Oh, I’m sorry. Here I am going on.’

  Tristan had always said she was a terrible liar. The few occasions she’d tried to organise a surprise, keep a secret, or tell a white lie about something she’d failed. She got away with it at work when screening Craig’s calls or deflecting annoying sales people because they couldn’t see how red her ears became when she lied. Like now, damn it!

  As much as she cared about Henry’s welfare, she could already feel her spirits being dragged down. She’d been so looking forward to seeing Pete again – going on a proper date, getting to know him on a different level.

  ‘A date, I hope?’

  ‘No, just dinner with a friend,’ she said, and cursed how hot her ears had suddenly become. Why did she feel the need to lie? More to the point, why did Henry feel the need to pry? She was more annoyed than embarrassed now.

  ‘Sorry, I seem to be putting my foot in it everywhere at the moment,’ he said, smiling sadly. And Hannah softened.

  ‘Don’t be so hard on yourself.’

  ‘I know I said it that day at the court, but I’m so glad you’re okay, that you’ve kept it together.’

  ‘Well, it hasn’t been easy, as I told you then.’

  ‘Yeah,’ he said, rubbing the side of his glass. ‘God, I miss Louise.’

  Well, have you called her, talked to her, made any effort at all? You’re the one who left, you stupid, stupid man! Hannah closed her eyes briefly to will away the fury she felt. What sort of an example was he showing his child?

  ‘You know, while there’s life there’s hope,’ Hannah said, trying to keep the annoyance from her voice. ‘I’m sure it’s not too late for you to try and sort things out. If you want to.’

  ‘Hmm,’ Henry said as he got up.

  Hannah hoped that was a ‘Hmm, you might be right’ and not a ‘Hmm, what would you know?’

  ‘Well, thanks again for coming around,’ she said, getting up and following him out.

  ‘Thank you for the work. And for the wonderful hospitality,’ he said, holding out his hand when they were at the front door. Hannah accepted it, but suddenly found herself being pulled into a tight quick hug.

  ‘I’m so glad you’re okay,’ he said again, stepping out.

  ‘You can be too, Henry. You can get through this. Small steps. But you have to try. And you have to be strong,’ she said, and then began closing the door in case he stopped to talk again.

  Chapter Twenty-one

  Well, I guess I’d better get ready, Hannah thought, suddenly feeling a rush of sadness grip her so tightly she almost gasped. She leaned against the hallway wall as an ache filled her entire being and she struggled to breathe. She noticed Holly and the kittens look up from their cushion on the lounge. She went in and sat beside them.

  ‘Oh, Holly girl, I’m so sad,’ she said, stroking the cat who looked up at her. Oh god, Hannah thought as her eyes filled and spilled over. A moment later Holly crawled into her lap and the kittens climbed onto her legs behind their mother. The ball of sadness inside her started to break apart.

  ‘I’m not ready, am I? Will I ever be?’ Holly licked her hand. ‘Pete’s a good man. You liked him, didn’t you, guys? You would have loved Tristan. He was lovely. Really beautiful,’ she said, her throat sticking. ‘Oh, Tris. I don’t want anyone else.’ Hannah began to sob. Through her tears she saw Holly sitting up in her lap, staring up at her. Hannah didn’t think cats could change their expressions, but Holly definitely looked concerned. Lucky and Squeak joined their mother in sitting to attention and looking up at her.

  ‘It’s okay, I’m okay,’ Hannah said, wiping her eyes. ‘Mummy’s just a bit sad.’ And scared. Am I scared? Hannah suddenly wondered. Terrified. Terrified of letting go of Tristan, her memories of him fading, as much as being afraid of what lay ahead or possible heartbreak with Pete. Her heart could never be hurt again as much as it was by losing her darling Tristan. But she was a little afraid of it not being as easy.

  Right from day one she and Tristan had been in sync – their values, their shared sense of humour and vision for the future. They’d had wonderful intellectual debates, but never fought. Would they have down the track if she hadn’t lost him? Hannah knew she most likely had an idealised set of memories around him and their life together. But she’d been happy. Really happy. She knew that. She could hold onto those memories and spend her life alone if she chose. It would be a perfectly reasonable reaction, excuse even. Maybe if you were Auntie Beth’s age.

  Being scared was no reason to not do something that held her in no mortal danger. What was the worst that could happen? Small steps, she reminded herself. I have to try, I’ve just finished telling Henry that. Hannah thought about what she’d faced up to and survived in the past year.

  ‘Oh, you guys,’ she said, and smiled as Lucky and Squeak stood up and began climbing up her chest. She probably should stop them before they ruined her knitted top with their needle-like claws, but they were too cute.

  Hannah began to giggle. They were now perched on each side of her shoulders. She wondered how long it would be before they were too big or heavy to do this. She turned to her left and kissed Lucky on the head and then turned right to do the same with Squeak.

  Darling little things, she thought, her heart swelling. You’re just beautiful.

  When they both began licking her ears she started to squirm and laugh before plucking them off their perches. She leaned back, put them on her chest and stroked them, igniting their little motors. She loved the feeling of their vibrating chests against hers. Too precious for words.

  ‘Okay, everyone, I’d better get ready if I’m going to do this,’ she said, putting the kittens down on the floor and gently removing Holly from her lap. The sadness was still there as she made her way down the hall, but it was manageable.

  In her bedroom, Hannah opened the wardrobe to choose an outfit. There were plenty to pick from, but two dresses caught her eye – a simple black dress and an emerald one that had been Tristan’s favourite. He’d always said it made her eyes shine a lovely shade of green. When had she last worn it?

  Oh. Her heart sank as she remembered: Sam and Rob’s Christmas party just days before The Accident. She touched the fabric, stroked it as she remembered what a lovely night they’d had and how she and Tristan had sat up talking into the early hours of the morning. Had she worn it since? Surely she had. Or had she avoided it? She actually couldn’t remember even opening this side of her wardrobe since it had happened. No, she hadn’t. She’d avoided most functions – she’d barely been functioning herself for that whole year.

  Yes, it’s time. But she still couldn’t decide between the two dresses of comp
letely different styles. You could never go wrong with a little black dress with a light, colourful wrap. The question was, did she want to wear the more fitted design to show her curves or the floatier one that highlighted her eyes? As she stood there she briefly wished she’d thought to ask Sam or Jasmine or Auntie Beth. She could phone Beth to come over or send photos to Sam or Jas and ask their opinions. Seriously, Hannah, you’re a woman of over thirty! You can do this. Get a grip. Okay, I’ll decide after my shower, she thought, and laid the dresses on the bed.

  Hannah returned from the bathroom to find Holly and both kittens sprawled across the black dress. ‘Oh. So do you choose this one – it’s the nicest so you’re sitting on it, is that right? Good choice. Mine too. But you all have to get off now.

  ‘Thank goodness for sticky lint rollers, is all I can say,’ she said after hanging the green dress back in the wardrobe. She surveyed the damage. The whole front was covered in a fine layer of grey, white and other shades of cat fur she couldn’t name. Oh, well, at least Pete will understand. And she smiled. Pete would understand, and not just about the cat hairs. He would understand her fear, trepidation, the need to take things slowly. If there was a perfect man to take her on her first proper date since Tristan, then he was the one. She felt a slight flutter in her chest and a warm feeling filling her. Pete was a lovely man. Suddenly Hannah started to feel excited about the evening.

  ‘It’s okay, kitties, I’m going to be okay,’ she declared, more to herself than the slumbering cats. They looked up at her, yawned, stretched and curled up again.

  Hannah was just finishing getting ready when her phone pinged with a series of text messages.

  Sam: Have an awesome night. No chickening out! Xx

  Jas: Happy first date! Can’t wait to hear all about it. ♥ xx

  Beth: Enjoy your evening. Thinking of you. Lots of love, A. Beth xx

  She replied to each of them, but with the same message:

  Thanks. Excited but terrified! Nearly chickened out, but am okay now. Speak soon. Xxx