Page 40 of Thursdays at Orange Blossom House
Patricia pulls up outside a sweet little house that’s on its way to being a cottage.
‘Thank you for the lift,’ Grace Maud says as she opens the car door.
‘Can I walk you to the house?’
‘No, that’s fine, thank you. I’m not worried about robbers or hooligans in this neighbourhood.’
‘What about your car? I could pick you up tomorrow morning.’
‘I have a girl who comes on Fridays. She’ll take me. Thanks again.’ Grace Maud gets out of the vehicle, walks slowly to her gate, then up the short path to her house.
Patricia may not be seeing her to the door, but there’s no reason why she can’t sit and make sure that Grace Maud’s key works, and that she turns on a light once she’s inside. The doing is the caring, after all.
Now she’ll go home to do things for her parents, and she’ll try to remind herself that it’s out of care, not duty, even as she grits her teeth from time to time. Because she realises that implicit in Grace Maud’s statement that she has a girl who comes on Fridays is the admission that there’s no one else to take her to her car. And while Patricia doesn’t know the state of Grace Maud’s relationships, she knows that she herself is going home to two people who depend on her, and probably love her even if they don’t say it. And while that may not be the family life her peers have, it’s the one she has, and the one she’ll re-dedicate herself to each and every day.
She dropped her weapons when it came to her parents, and she has no plans to pick them up again.
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
With her feet as wide apart as she can get them and her hands on her hips, Grace Maud attempts to bend forwards from the waist as smoothly as the women around her.
Suddenly Sandrine is in front of her holding a chair. ‘I think your hands are better on this than on the floor,’ she says with a quick smile before she’s off to help someone else. Before Grace Maud can tell her that she might be inflexible but she doesn’t need a bloody chair.
Sandrine has a habit of mind-reading. Whenever Grace Maud is in a pose and wanting to give up, Sandrine will say something like, ‘Giving up is the easiest thing in the world but I don’t recommend it.’ And there will go Grace Maud’s thoughts of playing the little old lady and saying the pose is too hard. Or that life is too hard, which is sometimes how she feels. Especially lately. After her last visit to the farm. Which she’s trying not to think about as she’s promised herself that these ninety minutes in Orange Blossom House will be her respite from worry.
Instead her mind wanders to Cecilia. A little while ago, after another fight with her mother, the girl was talking about leaving Cairns. Grace Maud hates the idea. As much as she doesn’t really need anyone at home, she enjoys Cecilia’s company. Then Luca came home with Grace Maud from the farm that day and Cecilia was there. Grace Maud saw the look that passed between them and knew she’d get to keep Cecilia for a while longer. Luca too – not that she knows if he’s planning to leave.
They had a bashful chat, then Luca slipped away to see his friends and Cecilia tried very hard not to ask questions about him, but not hard enough. Grace Maud pretended not to know what was going on – it can be quite fun to play dumb sometimes – but she’s pleased. Luca has lovely qualities, and so does Cecilia. Worse matches could happen. As she should know.
‘Are you with us, Grace Maud?’ Sandrine’s voice intrudes on her thoughts.
Grace Maud looks up suddenly to see that the others have moved on to a different pose. It takes her a few seconds to feel the pain in her neck, like a rebuke, and a few more to scowl because of it.
‘Breathe,’ Sandrine says as she approaches. ‘Breathe and push down through your feet to roll up slowly.’
Grace Maud starts to nod her assent and feels the pain again.
‘Enough for you for now,’ Sandrine says and guides her to the wall. ‘Please sit. Soles of the feet together.Baddha konasana. It will be good for your hips too, yes?’
She’s gone again, and Grace Maud feels the relief of having the wall behind her, holding her up. She presses her skull against it and closes her eyes. Why can’t she do this every class? It’s nicer than a lot of the other poses.
It doesn’t take long for the rest of the students to take the same pose, albeit on their mats, and Grace Maud wonders if it’s more of Sandrine’s sleight of hand, whereby she makes invisible adjustments to the class to accommodate everyone’s idiosyncrasies. It’s not the first time Grace Maud has noticed her doing it, but it’s the first time she’s really appreciated it.
When the class moves on to other sitting postures Grace Maud joins them, her neck feeling less vulnerable.
‘Are you all right?’ Patricia asks when class is over and she’s rolling up her mat.
‘Oh, yes.’ Grace Maud smiles her reassurance. ‘I was too hasty to move, that’s all. It’ll be fine.’
‘Or perhaps someone is being a pain in the neck?’ Patricia says, smiling mysteriously.
‘What do you mean?’ The thought of her troubles with Tom makes Grace Maud sound sharper than she intends.
‘Oh. Nothing.’ Patricia looks confused. ‘Only that, um, Sandrine said something last week about how things can manifest in the body. You know how we say someone is being a pain in the neck? Well, sometimes they … are.’ A quick smile, like she’s testing the waters.
Grace Maud stares at her. She knows too well – and too recently – how the body throws up its warning signs. She just never thought anyone else would understand.
‘I agree,’ she says, and Patricia looks relieved.
