Page 87 of Weekends with the Sunshine Gardening Society
‘She reads tarot,’ Shirl says. ‘That’s what you saw, isn’t it?’ She glances at Kathy and Lorraine in turn. ‘Don’t see why it’s funny.’
‘It’s not!’ Lorraine cries, abashed now that it’s been said openly and doesn’t sound nearly as outrageous as she thought it was at the market. ‘It was just … unexpected.’
‘Why?’
‘She seems so proper,’ Kathy says. ‘You know – not the type for … cards.’
Shirl nods slowly as Lorraine risks a glance at Cynthia, who looks mildly surprised.
‘We’re all the type for cards when we need some reassurance,’ says Shirl. Her eyes drill into Lorraine’s. ‘I know it probably seems funny but she’s been doing it for years and people come to her for all sorts of reasons. She’s accurate, too. Told me I was going to meet a handsome fella with a stethoscope.’ She winks in Elizabeth’s direction.
Lorraine has no idea what to make of that, apart from wondering if Elizabeth has been keeping some secrets for Shirl.
‘Anyway, she’s off with her psycho mates. No – wait. Psychic?’ Shirl frowns. ‘Yeah, that’s it. So let’s get this planting done and next time she’ll see what we get up to without her.’
Contrite, Lorraine smiles weakly at Kathy, who grins back as if to say they’ve done nothing wrong. Which they likely haven’t, but Lorraine feels like she personally shouldn’t have thought that what Barb does with her time was so weird. Some people might think that gardening is weird. Once upon a time Lorraine would have been one of them.
That’s one of the things she’s learnt, being a Sunshine Gardener: you have to keep turning over your own soil so that it doesn’t get old and you don’t stay stuck thinking and doing what you’ve always done. Barb clearly gets out there and does interesting things; Lorraine can do the same. Instead of finding Barb silly she should be taking inspiration from her. What a nice idea, to know people who are inspirational.
Not that she’ll say anything to Barb. That would be awkward. Lorraine just wants to come to this garden, or someone else’s garden, and forget about all that kind of stuff. That’s something else she’s learnt about gardening: it can be fun and rewarding. Nothing weird about that.
CHAPTER FORTY-SIX
Cynthiahasn’t spoken to Kathy for any great length of time since the day she saw her on Hastings Street. At the next gathering of the Sunshine Gardening Society, Kathy looked at her as if she was scared of what Cynthia might do or say. Certainly Cynthia had no wish to discuss private matters in front of the others, yet she didn’t feel as if she knows Kathy well enough to take her aside for a chat, or ask her to socialise. She does want to talk to her, however, because she’s aware that Kathy is new to the area and likely doesn’t have any close connections. And a person really needs to talk to another person about the sort of distress Kathy was in. So instead of attempting to socialise Cynthia asks if Kathy would like to spend an early Sunday morning helping her out in the national park.
When Barb had first suggested the park Cynthia had asked if their remit extended to Crown land. Barb waved off her concerns, saying, ‘I’ve been in there dozens of times over the years and never seen anyone official. It’s not like they care – they’re not doing anything about the weeds or the litter! They should be grateful we are.’ She did, however, tell Cynthia to say she’s a ‘concerned citizen’ if anyone asks her what she’s doing fossicking about in bushland and to not mention the Sunshine Gardening Society. Cynthia, a rule-follower by inclination if not always in practice, is happy to comply.
She gives Kathy the same instruction just before they set off for Tea Tree Bay, which is where Cynthia’s decided to start work. There’s more rubbish there than anywhere, so she thinks today will be mostly about rubbish collection and removal, although she’s yet to break that to Kathy.
When it comes to bringing up what happened the other day, Cynthia decides to just plunge in. It’s the only way to address hard subjects. Namby-pambying around tends to lead to confusion, distress and sometimes alienation – as happened when she left Pat. Instead of just saying what she wanted, she tried a circuitous route that made it sound as if he could have tried to salvage the situation when she already knew he couldn’t.
‘So,’ she says, feeling the humidity rising as they move under the canopy.
‘So,’ Kathy says lightly, and Cynthia sees her smile.
‘How are you feeling after the other day?’
Cynthia slows her walk to let a jogger get past them. She always thinks it’s a shame to run on this track because its natural beauty can’t be savoured that way.
‘I wondered when you were going to ask.’ Kathy doesn’t sound upset, which is good.
‘I couldn’t not ask. But I wanted to wait until the others weren’t around.’
‘I probably should have said something to you.’
‘There are no “shoulds” here, Kathy. We barely know each other. Which is why – look, I’ll be frank, this is an awkward conversation to have, isn’t it?’ Cynthia flashes her a sympathetic smile. ‘But I’m genuinely interested in your wellbeing and you were very distressed the other day.’
‘Yes, I was,’ Kathy says softly. ‘Jemima …’ She takes a breath. ‘Broke my heart.’
Cynthia had figured as much, but it’s always good to let people tell you their story in their own way and their own time. It would have been nice, of course, if she could have figured thatout while her mother was still alive, because then Diane may not be such a mystery to Cynthia now. Cynthia so wishes she had known her mother better.
‘I’m sorry,’ she says. ‘That’s very hard to deal with.’
‘I’m not a lesbian,’ Kathy says quickly, and Cynthia stops and raises her eyebrows.
‘I don’t care if you are, but the evidence suggests otherwise.’ She starts walking again, because she isn’t sure if she’s made Kathy uncomfortable, then feels her arm being grabbed.
‘I mean …’ Kathy starts, swallows and blinks. ‘I wasn’t. I was married. To a man. Owen. We have two children, Michelle and Grant.’
