Page 110 of Thursdays at Orange Blossom House
Then the call came from Frederick that the baby was born and he was fine, and Dorothy was dazed but all right.
This morning is the first time Patricia and Grace Maud are going to meet Nicholas. She picks up Grace Maud and they drive to Kuranda with presents of booties – probably not needed in the tropics, but all babies seem to be given booties – and rattles, and a bottle of Champagne for Frederick and flowers for Dorothy.
At the front door a frazzled-looking Frederick greets them with nods and kisses on each cheek, takes the Champagne with thanks and guides them to the sitting room.
Patricia smiles as she sees Dorothy with her hair out for the first time, spread over her shoulders and halfway down her back. She’s gazing at her baby then she lifts her head and gives her visitors a wobbly smile.
‘Hello,’ she says, looking as if she might cry. ‘It’s so good to see you.’
‘Are you all right?’ Grace Maud says briskly, moving to stand over Dorothy like a sentinel.
‘I’m a bit tired,’ Dorothy sniffs.
‘Of course you are,’ says Grace Maud. ‘That’s what babies do to you. Here, let me give you a break.’
She holds out her arms but Dorothy gazes down at Nicholas as if she isn’t sure what he’s doing there.
‘Is he real?’ she says.
‘As real as I am,’ replies Grace Maud. ‘Which is perhaps more real than most people would prefer.’
Dorothy laughs as if it’s the funniest thing she’s heard, and for a moment Patricia worries that she is slightly out of her mind. Then she stops laughing and says, ‘I’m just so happy. I can’t believe he’s here and he’s safe.’
‘He is,’ affirms Grace Maud. ‘And he’s the luckiest little boy in the world. I’d love a cuddle.’
‘Oh,’ says Dorothy as if the idea has just occurred to her. As Grace Maud carefully takes the baby, Dorothy appears not to want to let him go.
‘He’s lovely, Dorothy,’ says Patricia, although she’s no expert on babies. Teenagers she can comment on with authority, but it’s been a while since she’s seen a baby.
As they make small talk Frederick says hardly a word, looking as stunned as his wife that this small, perfect creature is theirs.
They don’t stay long – Grace Maud saying that a quick visit is a good visit – and now Patricia is heading home to talk to her father. To have yet another discussion about the future, although this time with a twist.
She made a decision, after the shock of that drive from Port Douglas had worn off. Life is unpredictable, no matter how much she may wish to control it. She has been so dutiful, so ordered, so correct. The organised teacher; the attentive if slightly resentful daughter; the tolerant sister. This was meant to make her content. Fulfilled. That’s the promise of doing all the right things. Except it isn’t, because she isn’t fulfilled. She has an adventurous mind trapped in a body that she has bound to one place for far too long, and in the process that mind has started to circle in on itself.
She isn’t sure when she stopped seeking out newness: new art, new music, new books. New places. Yoga is the first new thing she has done for years, and it’s shown her how closed she’d become. Patricia opened her body, as Sandrine commanded, and that has opened her mind to all the things she shut out.
So while she hasn’t decided where to go, she does think she should leave Cairns. Just for the summer holidays and a couple of weeks extra at the start of term. She’s already cleared it with Gordon. Because she’s discovered there are things she doesn’t want to change: where she lives, who her friends are, what she does for work. All those things are here, and she thinks she’ll appreciate them more if she takes a break from them.
In order to do that, though, she has to take steps. She can’t jump on a plane tomorrow. That’s for younger people with fewer responsibilities. Or for someone who is willing to abandon those responsibilities. She knows herself well enough to be aware that abandoning her parents would make her unhappy. That’s not freedom; it’s cruelty.
‘Hi, Dad,’ she says as she enters the house through the back door.
‘Hi, love. How was it?’
‘Fine. The baby’s cute.’
She knows he’s asked because it’s polite and she’s responding for the same reason. He’s not really interested in her life – hasn’t ever been – and she accepted that a while ago, because she accepts that you can’t change other people.
He nods and goes back to his newspaper.
‘Dad, I need to talk to you.’
He lifts his head. ‘Yes?’
He sounds wary, probably because she rarely says she needs to talk to him.
‘I want to go away for a while. Two months.’ She smiles quickly, reassuringly. ‘You suggested I take a break. You were right. I need a break. I need to go somewhere different.’
