The Sun in Her Eyes

  It was strange joining before Gretchen had even started, but once she did it was like old times, and we quickly sought out a local pub to head to on Friday lunchtimes.

  As for my other friends, Alicia, Josie and I catch up often for playdates and outings. Alicia’s daughter Bree is now eighteen months old, and Josie’s son Harry is almost a year. Waterlow Park in Highgate has become our regular pram-pushing haunt, often followed by tea and cake in one of the local cafés. They’ve been incredible with dishing out advice and moral support whenever I’ve needed it. I’m so lucky to have them around.

  When our plane touches down in Adelaide, Ned and I both breathe sighs of relief. That was a long flight – a far cry from our return journey last April when we were childless. Back then, we even managed an extended stopover in Singapore, leaving Adelaide a couple of days early to accommodate a short break together. It was quality time, well spent, and we arrived home feeling refreshed and full of anticipation for the future.

  Dad and Liz are waiting for us when we come out through customs, and my heart swells at the sight of Dad’s face when he spies Katy strapped to my front in a baby harness. He’s still using a walking stick, but his stance appears stronger, and I know from all our conversations on the phone that his speech is getting better. It’s been an extraordinarily tough year for him – he was quite low a few months ago when he realised that he might never fully recover – but Liz has continued to buoy him up, and I bow down to her. Our personalities may always clash, but I have to admit that she is an amazing woman. Am I glad that they’re getting married next weekend? Honestly?

  Yes. I’m ecstatic.

  Dad got a second chance at love with Liz, his ‘breath of fresh air’ as he put it. It sounds like she’s a very different kettle of fish to Mum, but she makes Dad happy and I’m thankful.

  Ned hugs Liz while I cuddle Dad with Katy squashed between us. She’s sucking on the fabric of her baby carrier and it’s covered with her drool, but she lifts her head to gaze up at Dad as he pulls away.

  ‘Hello, baby,’ he says, grinning goofily at her as he touches her cheek.

  ‘Hello, Amber,’ Liz interrupts warmly.

  I give her a kiss, and then I unhook Katy from her snug position.

  ‘Do you want to hold her?’ I ask Dad, worrying in the back of my mind that he might not be strong enough.

  ‘Absolutely,’ he replies enthusiastically.

  Ned and I watch nervously as he hands Liz his walking stick and offers his arms. I tenderly place Katy into them and he tucks her over his shoulder and begins to bounce.

  Liz looks alarmed. She has probably never seen Dad with an infant before. I love it – and more than anything, I love that he can bounce. A year ago, there would have been no chance.

  It strikes me – as it did when he had his stroke – that, if Liz hadn’t got him to the hospital so quickly, we might have lost Dad. It’s a poignant thing to remember, and I impulsively throw my arms around her neck and give her a proper hug.

  ‘Thank you for looking after him,’ I say into her ear.

  ‘It’s my pleasure,’ she responds, and oh my goodness, are her eyes shining?

  I jovially pat her on her back and pretend not to notice as she pulls away, but the affection I feel is here to stay. I’m sure of it.

  ‘I’d like to visit Doris while we’re here,’ I tell Dad in the car on the way home. ‘Maybe next week before the wedding?’

  ‘Okay,’ he replies. ‘I wouldn’t mind a drive up to Clare. We could make a day trip of it. What do you say, Lizzie?’

  ‘Sure,’ she replies.

  I hadn’t expected everyone to want to go, but I’m pleasantly surprised that they do.

  I kept in touch with Doris after we left Australia. I wrote her a letter to thank her for getting in contact and told her that our meeting had really helped me. I didn’t realise how unsettled I had been until then.

  She wrote back after only a few weeks, telling me that she had returned to the nursing home after her fall, and she was very happy to hear that I was expecting a baby. She said that she had been sleeping better since seeing me, which was both comforting and disconcerting in equal measure. I can’t imagine how she coped in the aftermath of the accident. No wonder she felt haunted for so many years.

  The next few days are a whirlwind of seeing friends and trying to get over jet lag with a four-month-old baby in tow. Even Liz doesn’t know how to contend with Katy’s disrupted sleep patterns, so in the end she leaves us to it.

  But Ned and I struggle on, and despite our exhaustion, we are deliriously happy. It’s fantastic to be in Australia together as a family. We leave the house as soon as it’s light and go to cafés down the street or for walks around the park. I feel closer to him than I ever have. Having Katy has cemented our relationship.

  Out of all of my friends, it’s funniest seeing Nell. She’s held back until now to tell me that she knew I was pregnant when I was throwing up in the pub. Whether she knew or just suspected, I’m glad she didn’t comment at the time. That would have been too much to cope with. To my delight, George proposed to her a week ago, and they are planning on getting married next summer. Again, it’s unlikely we’ll be able to afford to come back so soon for the wedding, but she said they’re seriously considering Europe as a honeymoon destination, so hopefully we’ll see them then. I’d love to show them around London.

  It’s not as easy being with Tina and Josh. They speak unguardedly about Ethan and I can’t help but feel on edge every time his name comes up in conversation. His divorce from Sadie has been granted and things are getting to be more civil between them. He’s been spending a lot of time down at Eden Valley, prepping the land and planting Riesling vines. He hopes to have his first white wine crop in a few years’ time.

  He also has a new girlfriend – a graphic designer he met while redesigning his bottle labels. Apparently the graphics are super cool, manga-style. It’s too much information for me to hear, but then, any news regarding Ethan would be too much. Wrong or right, I’m glad Ned and I live on the other side of the world from here.

  A few days after we arrive, I dig out Barry’s number and give him a call. He seems a bit taken aback to hear from me.

  ‘I came to visit your mother about a year ago,’ I remind him, wondering if he’s forgotten who I am. ‘I was wondering if I might be able to drop into her nursing home sometime and introduce my baby to her?’

  ‘Oh,’ he says. ‘Oh, I see.’

  He doesn’t sound very happy at the prospect, and I’m confused. Then he tells me why.

  ‘I’m afraid Mum passed away last week.’

  I let out a little cry and slump back against the wall. ‘I’m so sorry.’

  ‘She was ninety-five, but it was still a shock,’ he admits sorrowfully. ‘We’re having the funeral tomorrow.’

  I swallow. ‘Would it be alright… Would it be alright if I came?’ The question is tentative.

  ‘Of course,’ he replies in a voice heavy with emotion. ‘Let me give you the details. Have you got a pen?’

  I don’t feel nervous on the car journey this time: only sad. Ned drives, and Liz and Dad stay home with Katy. I’m grateful for his company and their support, but mostly I’m just devastated. I would have loved Doris to meet my family. We’re too late by such a short amount of time.

  The funeral is taking place in a large stone church with a steeple that stretches up past the tallest gums in the vicinity. One bell clangs mournfully as Doris’s family and friends go inside to take their seats. I look around, wondering if I’ll be able to spot the infamous Becca, who is still getting up to no good, according to Doris’s last letter, sent a couple of months ago.

  I spy a pale-faced woman of about my age, with short, dark, spiky hair, multiple ear piercings, and what could be a twelve-year-old girl sullenly hanging off her hand.

  I wonder if that’s her. I wouldn’t know what to say, even if it is. She has to carve her own path. We all do in the end.

&n
bsp; Spotting Barry and Patricia, Ned and I go forward to offer our condolences.

  ‘It’s so kind of you to come,’ Barry says sincerely, addressing us both. His gaze settles on me. ‘You don’t know how much you meant to her.’

  ‘She meant a lot to me, too,’ I respond.

  Others are arriving so we don’t talk for long, saying goodbye and heading inside.

  The church is cold and hushed, and up ahead is Doris’s open casket. People are going forth to pay their respects, but Ned looks uneasy.

  ‘I’d like to see her,’ I say. ‘Do you want to save us a pew?’

  He nods thankfully. I know he’s squeamish about the deceased.

  I walk with trepidation up the aisle, taking in the stained-glass windows and the simple white calla lilies tied to every second pew. I feel like I want to look anywhere but at Doris, but eventually I lift my eyes to stare at the old lady lying before me.

  She looks so small – even smaller in death than she appeared in life. Her face is pale, but there’s rosy blusher applied to her cheeks, and her long white hair has been fashioned into a braid falling over her left shoulder. Her hands hold a bunch of calla lilies, tied with a white satin ribbon.

  There is a lump in my throat the size of a golf ball as tears brim up and spill over. And then suddenly I see her…

  I’m crying as the nice lady with blue eyes places my sheep in my hands, but I stop at the sight of the broken white car she has just lifted me out of. Where’s Mummy? Before I can ask, she holds me tightly and turns around, and suddenly all I can see is bright sunlight.

  ‘What’s his name?’ she asks happily. I shake my head, squeezing my eyes shut. My lamb doesn’t have a name. ‘Is it a boy?’

  I nod my reply to her question.

  ‘How about Lambert?’ she suggests, and then she starts to sing as she walks down the hill away from our car. ‘Lambert, the sheepish lion…’

  I open my eyes and look over her shoulder, away from the light, but she moves again so I can’t see Mummy.

  ‘There, there, it’s okay, little one,’ she says in a kind voice, continuing with her song. ‘Lambert, the sheepish lion…’

  Doris named him Lambert, I realise with a start.

  I blink rapidly to clear my vision, brushing away my tears as I stand and stare at her.

  She gave my mum some peace in her final minutes of life. Another stranger might not have stopped, might not have waited and listened to someone who asked to be heard. It would have been so much easier to run away and get help, however futile help may have been. I can’t imagine how she had the strength to remain and watch Mum die. She offered comfort and for that I’m eternally grateful.

  ‘Thank you, Doris,’ I whisper. ‘Now rest in peace.’

  And please say hi to Mum for me…

  Dad and Liz initially talked about having a small service, but it’s amazing how easily things can spiral out of control. A large congregation is packed into their local church, including dozens of their colleagues and friends, and even a few of mine, too.

  Ned and I sit at the front, Katy taking turns to bounce on our laps.

  A few minutes before the service is due to begin, someone taps me on the shoulder. I look up to see Ruth smiling down at me and Tony hovering behind her. My gut twists. Is Ethan here? Surely not.

  ‘Hello there!’ I manage to recover quickly, getting up to give each of them a kiss.

  ‘Hello, Amber darling!’ Ruth gushes. ‘You look beautiful!’

  I’m wearing a fitted dark-green dress that shows off only a small post-baby bump. I’m surprised I got my figure back so quickly.

  ‘I saw you sitting up here and just wanted to say hi,’ Ruth says before I can thank her. ‘Is this your little one?’

  ‘Yes, this is Katy,’ I confirm, glancing fondly at Ned, who’s still seated. ‘And this is my husband, Ned.’

  ‘Hello, Ned,’ Ruth says, hastily adding, ‘No, don’t get up,’ when he makes to do just that.

  He stands up anyway, greeting them both like the polite boy he is.

  ‘How are you?’ I ask. ‘I didn’t know you were coming today.’

  Damn Dad for not warning me!

  ‘We wouldn’t have missed it for the world,’ she replies. ‘It’s so good to see Len taking a leap of faith after all this time.’

  ‘It is,’ I agree with a genuine smile.

  ‘Ethan was sorry to miss it. He’s working today. Just couldn’t get away,’ she apologises, oblivious to my relief.

  ‘Not to worry. Dad wouldn’t have expected it,’ I say, as the vicar appears at the front of the church.

  ‘Ooh, we’d better sit down,’ Ruth says, clasping my arm before letting me go.

  ‘See you later,’ I say.

  ‘Bye, sweetheart,’ Tony adds, making himself scarce.

  Ned raises one eyebrow at me enquiringly.

  ‘Ethan’s parents,’ I explain as we settle back into our seats, and then the organ music pipes up, distracting us both.

  We all rise as Dad and Liz appear at the church doors. He’s dashing in a well-cut black suit, and Liz looks resplendent in a long lilac-coloured blouse, draped over matching silk trousers. Dad doesn’t use a stick as they walk arm-in-arm down the aisle, and there are murmurs of delight and happiness from all around, only quietening when they reach the end. They really are surrounded by love here.

  It’s a beautiful service – I blub at all the appropriate parts – and Katy coos and gurgles and even steals the show at one point, making everyone laugh. But she doesn’t cry once.

  When it’s time, I go to the front of the church to sign the register. I’m Dad’s witness.

  ‘Well done, Dad,’ I say, kissing his cheek and then doing the same to Liz.

  ‘No getting rid of me now,’ she mutters jokily into my ear.

  I laugh out loud, making the vicar glance at us. ‘As if I ever stood a chance against you, anyway.’ I arm-bump her. ‘I’m, seriously, so happy for you.’

  ‘I know you are, darling. I appreciate it.’

  I dab at my eyes and sniff. ‘Don’t do tears, my arse.’

  Then Liz is the one laughing out loud and startling the vicar.

  The next few hours fly by. Katy falls fast asleep in her pram after dinner. We drape a blanket over the hood to muffle the light and noise, before settling in for a night of constantly checking on her. No doubt she’ll have us up in a few hours anyway, not that I’m drinking much.

  I’m breastfeeding, but it’s not just that: Tony and Ruth have supplied the booze from Lockwood House, and the reminders of Ethan every time I see a bottle are not welcome.

  Incidentally, I left the bottle of wine he gave me for my birthday as one of my thank you presents to Liz and Dad.

  ‘Why didn’t you tell me Ruth and Tony were going to be here?’ I ask Dad when I catch him alone.

  ‘Oh!’ he cries with regret. ‘I meant to. I bumped into them a couple of months ago and they offered to do us a good price on the wine. Everyone else and their dog was coming, so I thought it would be remiss not to invite them. I meant to tell you.’

  ‘Did you invite Ethan?’ I ask curiously.

  He looks awkward. ‘I did in passing, but I wasn’t really thinking. I was relieved when Ruth said he couldn’t make it.’

  I’ll say…

  ‘You and Ned seem happy?’ His words prompt my smile to slip back into place.

  ‘We are,’ I reply, scanning the room for my husband. I see him chatting to Nell and George. He looks like he’s having fun. The Lockwood House Shiraz is certainly going down well, that’s for sure.

  Liz appears. ‘Have you told Amber where we’re going in August?’

  ‘Where we might be going,’ Dad corrects her.

  I look at each of them expectantly.

  ‘Queensland!’ she says triumphantly.

  ‘Oh.’ I smile pleasantly. ‘That will be nice.’

  ‘We’re flying there!’ she adds, stumping me in my tracks.

  ‘What? H
ow?’

  ‘Liz has been getting into hypnotherapy,’ Dad says with a proud smile.

  ‘You know what I was like with his relaxation exercises,’ she says and I nod. ‘I was getting quite good at them,’ she continues. ‘So I thought I’d try my hand at phobias. I’m not saying we’ll be jumping on a twenty-four-hour flight any time soon, but we’ll start with Queensland and see how we get on. Maybe we’ll make it to Europe one day.’

  I’m so thrilled at the possibility of them coming to visit that I throw my arms around the pair of them.

  And then my heart stops. Because Ethan is standing at the door.

  He locks eyes with me for a long moment as I withdraw from my three-way embrace. Dad notices my attention has been side-tracked and glances over his shoulder.

  ‘What’s he doing here?’ he mutters.

  ‘He’s collecting Tony and Ruth,’ Liz replies, glancing back at us with a shrug. ‘They said he’d be here shortly.’

  My heartbeat accelerates. I glance at Ned, but he’s deep in conversation. Should I go and join him? Or should I be civil and say hello to Ethan?

  In the end, my decision is taken away from me because Ethan approaches.

  ‘Congratulations,’ he says jovially, shaking Dad’s hand and leaning forward to kiss Liz on her cheek.

  ‘I’ve just seen your mother here somewhere,’ Liz says. ‘Shall I let her know you’ve arrived?’

  ‘Thanks,’ Ethan says.

  I feel his eyes burning into me as Liz hurries off, but Dad is still with us.

  ‘I’d invite you to stay for a drink,’ Dad says, ‘but perhaps it would be best if you didn’t stick around.’

  Ethan blanches before gathering himself together. ‘No, I won’t stay.’

  ‘Righty ho.’ Dad pats me consolingly on the arm and leaves us to it.

  I stare after him in surprise before returning my attention to Ethan’s incredulous expression.

  ‘Does your dad know about us?’ he asks.

  ‘No.’ I shake my head. ‘Not about that. But he knew how I used to feel about you. Or at least, he guessed.’