Car doors were slamming. A child was whining, "But Dad, that's not fair!"
Alice opened the front door. Her legs were shaking so badly, she thought she might collapse. Maybe that would be a good thing.
"Mummy!" A little girl came hurtling up the stairs and threw her arms around Alice, her head colliding hard with her stomach. She talked straight into Alice's T-shirt, her voice muffled. "Is your sore head better? Did you get my card? What was it like sleeping in the hospital?"
Alice hugged her back and couldn't speak.
I don't even remember being pregnant with you.
"Olivia?" she croaked and put her hand on top of the little girl's tangled white-blond curls. There was sand in her hair and a crooked line revealing a pink scalp. Her hair was soft and her skull was hard, and when she looked up, she was impossibly beautiful: smooth skin with a cinnamon dusting of freckles and enormous dark-lashed blue eyes.
They were her own eyes staring back at her, but much bigger and definitely much more beautiful. Alice felt dizzy.
"Oh Mum," crooned Olivia. "Are you actually still feeling a bit sick? Poor darling Mum. I know! I'll listen to your heart and be your nurse! Yes!"
She was gone, slamming the screen door behind her, pounding down the hallway.
Alice looked up and saw Nick leaning over to pull out stuff from the boot of a swish silver car.
He straightened. Both his arms were filled with backpacks and soggy beach towels.
"Hi," he said.
His hair seemed to have disappeared. As he walked toward her, she saw that it was completely gray and cropped close to his head. His face had got thinner but his body was somehow thicker: his shoulders chunkier, his stomach paunchier. There were spiderwebs of lines around his eyes. He was wearing a green T-shirt and shorts she'd never seen before. Well, of course, but it was still unsettling.
He walked up the stairs toward her and stood in front of her. She looked up at him. He was different and strange but he was still essentially Nick. Alice forgot everything that she'd just read on the computer and the way he'd talked to her on the phone the other day and was filled with the pure simple pleasure of Nick coming home after a long trip away. She smiled joyously at him. "Hi yourself."
She went to step forward toward him and Nick stepped back. It seemed involuntary, as if she were an unpleasant insect. His eyes were blank, and they seemed to be fixed on her forehead.
"How are you?" he said. His tone was the frosty one he used when he was being mucked around by incompetent tradespeople.
"Mum! You should have seen the wave I caught today! It was, like, twenty feet tall. It was, like, as high as the roof there. Look. No, look, Mum, at the roof there. Yeah, there. That's how high it was. Or maybe a few centimeters less. Anyway, Dad took the best photo! Show Mum the photo on your camera, Dad. Can you show her the photo?"
So this was Tom. He was wearing long board shorts and a cap that he pulled off so he could rub the top of his head hard. His hair was the same color as Olivia's--so blond it was almost white. Nick had that color hair when he was a child. Tom's limbs were skinny and tanned and strong. He was like a miniature surfie teenager. Good Lord. He had Roger's nose. It was definitely Roger's nose. It made her want to laugh. Roger's nose in this vibrant little boy's face. She wanted to hug him, but she wasn't sure if that was appropriate.
Instead, she said, "Yeah, let me see the photo, Nick."
Nick and Tom stared at her. Her tone must have been wrong. Too flippant?
Tom said, "You sound a bit funny, Mum. Did you get stitches at the hospital for your head? I asked Auntie Libby if it was a brain tumor and she said it definitely was not. I did a lie-detector test on her."
"It definitely was not a brain tumor," said Alice. "I just fell over."
"I'm starved to death," sighed Tom.
"I'm making hamburgers for dinner."
"No, I mean, I'm starved right now."
"Oh."
A girl walked up onto the veranda. She dropped a wet towel on the veranda, put her hands on her hips, and said, "Did you say you're making hamburgers for dinner?"
"Yes," said Alice.
Madison. The Sultana. The two blue lines on all those pregnancy tests. The flashing heartbeat on the screen. The mysterious invisible presence listening to Nick's voice through the toilet roll.
Madison had very fair, almost translucent skin. There was a patch of angry red sunburn on her neck with white fingerprints as if someone had given up on putting on the sunscreen too soon. She had lank, dark brown hair that was falling in her eyes and beautiful strong white teeth. Her eyes were the same shape as Nick's but a darker, unusual color, and her eyebrows were someone's--Elisabeth's as a child! They were subtly raised at the corners, like Mr. Spock. She wasn't adorable like Olivia and Tom. Her body was chunky. Her lower lip jutted out sulkily. But one day, thought Alice, one day I think you might be striking, my darling Sultana.
"You promised," the Sultana said to Alice. Her eyes were murderous. She was formidable. She filled Alice with awe.
"I promised what?"
"That you would buy the ingredients so I could make lasagna tonight. I knew you wouldn't do it. Why do you pretend you're going to do something when you know that you're not." She punctuated the last sentence with rhythmic stamps of her foot.
Nick said, "Don't be so rude, Madison. Your mother had an accident. She had to spend the night at the hospital."
Alice wanted to laugh at Nick's stern dad voice. Madison lifted her chin. Her eyes blazed. She stormed into the house, slamming the screen door behind her.
"Don't slam the door!" called out Nick. "And come back and pick up your towel."
Silence. She didn't return.
Nick sucked in his lower lip and his nostrils flared. Alice had never seen him pull a face like that. He said, "Go inside, Tom. I want to speak to your mother. Will you take Madison's towel inside, too?"
Tom was standing at the front wall of the house, tracing the brickwork with his fingertips. He said, "Dad, how many bricks do you reckon there are in this whole house?"
"Tom."
Tom sighed theatrically, picked up Madison's towel, and went inside.
Alice took a deep breath. She couldn't imagine living with those three children twenty-four hours a day. She'd never imagined them actually talking. They fizzed and crackled with energy. Their personalities were right there on the surface without that protective sheen of adulthood.
"The Sultana," began Alice, but words eluded her. Madison could not be put into words.
"I beg your pardon?" said Nick.
"The Sultana. I could never have imagined her growing up to be like that. She's so ... I don't know."
"Sultana?" He didn't know what she was talking about.
"You remember--when I was pregnant with Madison, we used to call her the Sultana."
He frowned. "I don't remember that. Anyway, I wanted to see if we could work out this thing with Christmas Day."
"Oh, that." She thought of all those nasty e-mails and got a bad taste in her mouth. "Why are we even talking about Christmas now? It's May!"
He stared at her as if she were crazy.
"I beg your pardon? You're the one obsessed with your precious spreadsheet. You said you wanted everything in black-and-white for the whole year ahead. Every birthday. Every concert. You said that was best for the kids."
"Did I?" Did she even know how to do a spreadsheet?
"Yes!"
"Right. Well. Whatever you want. You can have them on Christmas Day."
"Whatever I want," he repeated suspiciously, almost nervously. "Is there something I'm missing here?"
"Nope. Hey--how was Portugal?"
"It was fine, thank you," he said formally.
She had to clench her fingernails into her hands to stop herself leaning forward and laying her face against his chest. She wanted to say, "Talk in your normal voice."
"I'd better go," he said.
"What?" She nearly grabbed for him in a p
anic. "No. You can't go. You have to stay for dinner."
"I don't think that would be appropriate."
"Oh yes! Daddy, stay for dinner!" It was Olivia. She had a red cape tied around her shoulders and a toy stethoscope around her neck. She clung to Nick's arm. Alice was jealous she was allowed to touch him so freely.
"I think I'd better go," said Nick.
"Please stay," said Alice. "We're having hamburgers."
"Yes! See, Mummy wants you to stay." Olivia was doing a tap dance of delight back and forth across the veranda. She yelled, "Tom! Guess what? Dad's staying for dinner!"
"Jesus, Alice," said Nick under his breath, and this time he looked her properly in the eyes.
"I opened some really nice wine for us," said Alice, and smiled at him.
She didn't need lipstick to get her husband back.
Chapter 20
Nick didn't seem to know what to do with himself when he came inside. He shoved his hands in the pockets of his shorts and wandered around the living room, stopping and looking at things, as if he were in somebody else's home.
"You got the pool under control?" he asked, and jutted his chin toward the backyard.
Alice stood in the kitchen, pouring them both a glass of wine. She had no idea what he was talking about. How do you get a pool under control?
"The pool has been very calm," she said. "Very serene. I think I must have it on a tight leash."
Nick turned back from the windows and looked at her sharply.
"Good," he said.
Alice walked out of the kitchen and handed him a glass of wine. She noticed that he took it from her carefully, so that their hands didn't touch. "Thanks," he said. She kept standing in front of him and he backed away again as if she were contagious.
Tom was wandering around the kitchen, opening cupboard doors. He stood in front of the fridge, swinging the door back and forth.
"What can I eat, Mum?" he said.
Alice looked around vaguely for her mother.
"Mum," said Tom.
Alice jumped. She was the mum.
"Well," she said, trying to sound cheery and loving. "What do you feel like? Maybe a sandwich?"
"You can wait till dinner, Tom," said Nick.
Oh, so that had been the correct response.
"Yes," she said. She put on a similar voice to Nick's. "Your father is right." Then she giggled. She couldn't help it. She gave Nick a mischievous look. Didn't he find it funny, too? The two of them being the mum and the dad?
Nick just looked back at her nervously. She saw his eyes dart involuntarily to her glass of wine. Did he think she was drunk?
The little boy slammed the fridge door so hard it rattled, and said, "I think if I don't eat soon, I might get malnourished. Look. My stomach is sticking out like a starving person. See?" He thrust out his stomach.
Alice laughed. Nick said sharply, "Stop being silly. Go and get changed out of those wet clothes." Yes, well, it probably wasn't the best idea to encourage your children to laugh at the plight of the starving.
The littlest child appeared. Olivia. She had smeared her lips with brightred lipstick. It had got on her teeth. Was that allowed? Alice looked over at Nick for guidance, but he was standing at the back door and looking out at the pool. "The color looks a bit green to me," he said. "When was the last time you had the guy around?"
"Okay, Mummy, I'm ready now to be your nurse. Sit down and I'll take your temperature." Olivia grabbed her by the hand. Charmed by the feel of her small, warm palm, Alice let herself be led over to the sofa.
"Lie down, there's a dear," said Olivia.
Alice lay down and Olivia stuck a toy thermometer in her mouth. She stroked back Alice's hair from her forehead and said, "Now I will listen to your heart, patient." She plugged the stethoscope to her ears and pressed the other end against Alice's chest. She frowned professionally. Alice tried not to laugh. This kid was adorable.
"Okay, patient, your heart is beating," she said.
"Phew," said Alice.
Olivia removed the thermometer and looked at it. Her mouth dropped. "You have a terrible fever, patient! You're burning up!"
"Oh no! What should I do?"
"You should watch me do a cartwheel. That will cure you."
Olivia did a perfect cartwheel. Alice applauded and Olivia bowed. She went to do another one.
"Not in the house, Olivia!" snapped Nick. "You know that!"
Olivia stuck her bottom lip out. "Please, Daddy, please. Just one more."
"Should she be wearing your lipstick like that?" asked Nick.
"Oh, well," said Alice, "I'm not exactly sure."
"Let your mother get dinner started." Nick had the same exhausted, defeated look as Elisabeth had the night before. Everyone was so tired and cranky in 2008.
"Sorry, darling Daddy." Olivia threw her arms around Nick's legs.
"Go and get changed out of your swimming costume," said Nick. Olivia danced off, swirling her red cape around her.
They were alone.
"By the way, I didn't get all of Olivia's homework done," said Nick. He sounded defensive, like he was confessing something.
"You mean you do Olivia's homework for her?" asked Alice.
"Of course not! Jesus. You really do think I'm incompetent, don't you."
Alice sat up. "No I don't."
"She's only got eight questions to go. It's obviously more difficult when you're all together in a small apartment. Also we didn't quite finish Tom's reading. And we spent three hours doing Madison's science experiment today. Tom wanted to do it for her."
"Nick."
He stopped talking, took a mouthful of his wine, and looked at her.
"What?"
"Why are we getting a divorce?"
"What sort of question is that?"
"I just want to know."
The longing to stand up and touch him was so strong, she had to press her hands against her thighs to stop herself from leaping up and burying her head under his chin.
"It doesn't matter why we're getting a divorce," said Nick. "I'm not having this conversation. What is the point of it? I'm not interested in playing games tonight, Alice. I'm exhausted. If you're trying to make me say something you can use against me, it's not going to work."
"Oh," said Alice.
Would her capacity for shock ever run out? She realized that ever since Elisabeth had first uttered the word "divorce" at the hospital, she'd been waiting to see Nick so that he could take it away, make it nothing to do with them.
"Maybe I should just go home," said Nick, putting his glass down on the coffee table.
"You told me once that if we were ever having trouble with our relationship, you would move heaven and earth to try and fix it," said Alice. "We were at that new Italian restaurant when you said that. We were peeling the wax off the candlestick. I remember it very, very clearly."
"Alice."
"You said we were going to get old and grumpy together and go on coach tours and play bingo. The garlic bread was cold but we were too hungry to complain."
Nick's lower lip had dropped, so he looked stupid.
"One night, we were standing in Sarah O'Brien's driveway waiting for a taxi and I asked if you thought Sarah looked even more beautiful than usual that night, and you said, 'Alice, I could never love anyone the way I love you,' and I laughed and said, 'That wasn't the question,' but it was the question, because I was feeling insecure, and that's what you said. You said that. It was cold. You were wearing that big woolly jumper that you lost at Katoomba. Don't you remember?"
She could feel her nose starting to block.
Nick was holding his palms up in a panicky fashion, as if there were a fire starting right in front of him but he couldn't see anything handy to extinguish it.
Alice sniffed noisily. "Sorry," she said, and looked at the floor because she couldn't bear to look at his familiar but strange face.
She said, "These tiles are the absolute perfect color. Where did we g
et them?"
"I don't know," said Nick. "It must have been ten years ago." She looked back up at him. He dropped his hands by his sides and his eyes widened as comprehension swept his face. He said, "Alice, you did get your memory back, didn't you? I just assumed--I mean, you're home from the hospital. You don't still think it's 1998, do you?"
"I know it's 2008. I believe it. It just doesn't feel like it."
"Yes, but you remember the last ten years, don't you? That's not why you're asking these bizarre questions, is it?"
Alice said, "Did you have an affair with that woman who lived across the road? The one who died? Gina?"
"An affair? With Gina? You are joking."
"Oh. Good."
He said, "You don't remember Gina?"
"No. I remember the balloons at her funeral."
"But Alice ..." Nick leaned forward urgently. He looked around the room to make sure they were alone and lowered his voice. "You do remember the kids, don't you?"
Alice met his eyes and silently shook her head.
"Not at all?"
"The last thing I remember properly is being pregnant with the Sultana. I mean, Madison."
Nick slammed his palms against his knees. (He had all these new grown-up grumpy gestures.) "For God's sake, why aren't you still at the hospital?"
"Did you have an affair with someone other than Gina?" asked Alice.
"What? No, of course not."
"Did I ?"
"Not that I know of. Can we get back to the point?"
"So there were no affairs at all?"
"No! Jesus. We didn't have time for affairs. We didn't have the energy. Well, I didn't. Maybe you did, in between your precious aerobics classes and beautician appointments, in which case, good luck to you."
Alice thought about how she'd kissed Dominick.
She said, "Do you have a girlfriend now? Oh, don't answer that. I can't bear it if you've got a girlfriend. Don't answer it." She put her hands over her ears, took them away, and said, "Do you?"
Nick said, "You must have hit your head really hard, Alice."
For a moment it seemed like the real Nick was back. He was shaking his head in comical disbelief, the way he did when he caught her crying over that margarine ad with the ducklings, or hopping around swearing because she'd hurt herself kicking the washing machine, or down on her knees frenziedly pulling everything out of the fridge in the hope of finding a forgotten bar of chocolate.
Then the look vanished as if he'd just recalled something highly irritating and he said, "Anyway, according to Olivia, you've got a boyfriend yourself. Jasper's dad. The school principal, no less. Do you remember him?"