Standing Strong (18 page)

Finally the Statesman was unpacked and her parents installed in the bedroom she'd given up, moving into the spare room with the single bed, as previously. She'd toyed with buying a double bed for the room, but as the house was being rented fully furnished, she'd have to find somewhere for the single. And if she left, she'd have to take the new bed with her, and leaving was looking like it might be on the cards.

In the kitchen, hands wrapped around mugs of tea and coffee, they discussed all the goings on in each other's lives while carefully skirting the elephant in the room that was Jacqueline's job. She was actually feeling a little more positive about it now her parents were there, despite telling herself they couldn't actually help. There was nothing quite like feeling taken care of by your mother, and Eileen Havelock was very good at it. As usual, she had arrived with two large eskies full of assorted meals, cakes and biscuits.

They were just discussing whether to have her lasagne that night and invite Ethel over when the doorbell rang, followed by, ‘Yoo hoo!' from the open front door.

‘Speak of the devil,' Jacqueline said, and got up. She hugged her friend and apologised profusely and admitted she had forgotten to ring her back.

‘It's quite okay,' Ethel said. ‘I know you've had a lot on your mind and you'll call if you need me,' she said. But Ethel sounded a little hurt.

‘Thanks. I'm still getting my head around it all. But I do want to tell you about Doctor Squire. He's been amazing.'

‘Oh? That's nice to hear.'

‘Come on through. I'm guessing you've seen the cars in the drive.'

‘I have indeed. Thought I'd pop in and say hi,' Ethel said, making her way through to the kitchen.

Once all the greetings were out of the way and another cup of tea had been poured, Ethel invited them over for dinner.

‘Mum brought a lasagne. We were going to have that,' Jacqueline said. ‘Why don't you come over here?'

‘No, that can wait,' Eileen Havelock said almost before the words were out of Jacqueline's mouth. ‘We'd love to come, wouldn't we?' she said, looking expectantly at her daughter and husband. Philip Havelock was nodding enthusiastically.

Jacqueline frowned to herself. She had the distinct impression there was something going on here.

‘I do have trifle,' Ethel said.

‘Oh, well, that's it then,' Philip said, clapping his hands. ‘Decision made. Thank you, Ethel. We would love to come. Six o'clock, did you say?'

‘Um, she hasn't actually said a time yet,' Jacqueline said. ‘What's going on?'

Ethel, Eileen, and Philip shared sheepish glances.

‘This is not you coming across and inviting us on the spur of the moment, Ethel. Not if you've made trifle, which I know for a fact you do the day before,' Jacqueline said indignantly.

‘Guilty as charged,' Ethel said.

‘It's the only way you get any flavour from the port,' Eileen Havelock said.

‘That and quadrupling the quantity of alcohol.' Ethel put a finger to her lips and pursed them.

‘So you've been on the phone for days organising this then?'

‘Oh no, just …' her mother said.

‘That's not the point. Why not tell me? Why all the subterfuge? Come on. Spill.'

‘Because Damien is coming,' Ethel said quietly.

‘Oh. Look, we didn't break up because we've had a falling out or anything and need an intervention to bring us back together. It really wouldn't be a good idea to be seen socialising with him before my, um, situation is resolved.'
And probably not even then
.

‘It'll be fine,' rang as a chorus around the table.

Jacqueline frowned. They didn't seem to see how serious the trouble she was in was. She was on the cusp of losing her licence to practise – and her credibility, for Christ's sake – years of study down the drain. And here they were going behind her back, orchestrating meetings with the one person she shouldn't be seeing.

‘You don't have to sleep with him, Jacqueline. That's what the issue is, isn't it?' Eileen said.

Jacqueline almost choked on her tea. She stared at her mother, aghast, staggered that she'd say such a thing, and apparently so casually. Her whole world was seriously out of kilter.

‘Look, you'll be chaperoned and we'll have you home by nine thirty. And if necessary, we will bear witness,' Philip said. ‘We want to see Damien.'

God, so did she – desperately. She wanted to see how he was coping and hear how everything was going at the farm.

‘You could stay here. I'll send over a care package,' Ethel said, smiling cheekily at her.

‘Well, as long as you're okay with me moving back home and freeloading if I get fired,' Jacqueline said after a few moments. Maybe she was being a bit uptight about it all. She had dropped her letter in to Doctor Squire the day before and now had to do her best to put it all out of her mind until she heard back from the board.

‘Good girl,' Ethel said, patting her hand. ‘So I'll see you all in a couple of hours,' she added, draining her mug. ‘No need to get up. I know my way. Cheerio then, see you a bit later.' She gave a wave, and was gone.

‘Great. I'm glad that's settled,' Philip said. ‘You really do make a lovely couple. I hope you can put this business behind you soon and get back on track.'

‘Hmm,' was all Jacqueline could say without snapping at them. There was no point. It was all her own fault. They were right to be disappointed when they had become so attached to Damien. He really had, in just a few short weeks, become the son they'd never had.

‘Right, there's time for us to go over this predicament of yours. Have you written your response yet?' Philip asked.

‘Yes. I'll just go get it.'

Jacqueline sat nervously watching as her father and then her mother read her letter, waiting for their feedback.

‘Why aren't you asking to be released from the two-year exclusion period?' Eileen asked, handing the letter back.

‘Because I want to look like a professional worthy of keeping my status, not a lovesick teenager,' she said, trying to keep her annoyance at bay. ‘What do you think, Dad? You've been on professional disciplinary panels before, haven't you?'

‘Not for many years, and not for something like this. But I'm afraid I tend to think your mother might have a point.'

My mother who has always been a stay at home wife and mother
, Jacqueline wanted to snap. But she was just angry and disappointed with herself – that was usually the reason for people lashing out at others. She tried to be more patient and less annoyed as she listened to her father.

‘I'd be inclined to go for broke. You're already looking down the barrel of a reprimand and/or losing your registration. I don't think you could make things worse by asking. If you don't ask, you don't get.'

‘If you love Damien, really love him – and I know it's early days – then why aren't you fighting for him, for your relationship?' Eileen said. ‘Are you okay with waiting for two years? Is he? By not asking, it looks like you're happy to wait. That doesn't say much about your relationship to me.'

‘I
am
fighting this, for
us
,' Jacqueline said, unable to hide her exasperation and astonishment at her meek and mild mother being so opinionated.

‘No, dear,' Eileen said kindly. ‘You're fighting for your career, not your relationship. Well, that's how it looks from where I'm sitting.'

‘Sorry, sweetie, but I agree with your mother. How would Damien feel if you didn't say how important he is to you? Better yet, put yourself in his shoes: how would you feel if he was writing this letter and not mentioning how much you mean to him?'

Jacqueline felt the shame beginning to creep up her neck. They were absolutely right. She would be mortified if the situation were reversed. But it was too late. And this was business. Damien would understand that, wouldn't he? Just as she would.

‘Of course he'd understand,' Eileen continued, ‘because he's that sort of fellow. But he'd be deeply hurt, as would you.'

‘The question is, could you survive that level of hurt? Relationships recover from disappointment, but few recover from deep hurt and betrayal,' Philip said.

If it wasn't so serious, she might have laughed and said something like, ‘Listen to you, Doctor Phil and Mrs McGraw.' She wanted to tell them they were being melodramatic. But they weren't, really. She was beginning to see that if she left the relationship out of her letter then she was essentially ending it.

‘It's too late, I've already handed it in to Doctor Squire ready to send. This is just a copy,' she said.

‘Oh, I'm sorry, I didn't realise. I thought you were asking for our opinion,' Eileen said, her cheeks colouring.

She took the letter back to her room to close the topic and make an attempt at keeping her tears at bay. She was so disappointed in herself. She was being selfish, trying to resurrect her career without trying to get her relationship sanctioned too. She couldn't say it was for the money, because she knew Damien wouldn't hesitate – nor would her parents for that matter – to offer to take care of her financially while she found another source of income.

Jacqueline fought the urge to throw herself onto the single bed in her temporary bedroom like a petulant teenager and sulk, and instead set about getting changed for dinner. Her parents were entitled to their opinion and even if she did think they had a point, what was done was done. The letter had been sent. She'd been proud of her professionalism and objectivity before her parents had weighed in. She just had to focus on that; to start second-guessing herself now would do her in. And, anyway, Doctor Squire had agreed with what she'd written and, while the disloyalty to her parents stung a little, his opinion was the only other one that mattered in this situation. Of that she was certain.

Chapter Eighteen

Damien was pleased that the other guests were immediately drawn to Squish and Jemima and the box of kittens he'd placed out of the way on the hall table. All except Jacqueline. She stood back and let her parents come forwards and hug him and then ooh and ahh over the animals. He didn't think he'd ever get tired of being hugged by the Havelocks – they gave great hugs.

Jacqueline offered him a shy ‘Hi' and a warm smile. He smiled back, wondering if they'd had to work hard to persuade Jacqueline to come, but instead of going over and giving her a hug, he offered a shrug and stuffed his hands further into his pockets. Given the state of play between them, that's what he figured was probably warranted. If he was going to greet her properly, it would be by wrapping his arms around her, pulling her in tight, burying his head in her hair, and telling her he loved her and that this exile had to end because he couldn't bear to be without her for another day.

Oh how he ached. He'd heard about how love and longing could actually physically hurt. He wouldn't have believed it before, but now he knew only too well. It also pained him to see how drawn and tired the love of his life looked. If only he could take all the pain away from her. But other than writing a damned good letter in support of her and getting the CFS head honchos involved, it was out of his hands. He felt as helpless as he had watching his dad die of a brain tumour all those years ago.

Ethel ushered them into the dining room and urged them to sit, pointing out who was to sit where. Damien was pleased to be seated where he wasn't in Jacqueline's direct line of sight, nor close enough that he could hold her hand under the table or brush it accidentally. Auntie Ethel had clearly thought this through. He was relieved when the bread came out and they busied themselves with breaking and buttering it and the atmosphere seemed to lighten.

‘Any progress with the house, Damien?' Philip asked.

‘Yeah, they're going great guns. The site's been cleared and the concrete slabs poured. I just hope the heat doesn't cause anything to crack. But I'm staying right out of it – the builders know what they're doing. And there's no great hurry. The caravan's good, though it's starting to get a little crowded now Jemima is growing and thinks she's an inside pet,' he said with a laugh. ‘She and Squish have become quite inseparable.'

‘Oh, that's so adorable,' Eileen cooed.

‘And how are your plans coming along?' Damien asked, looking from Eileen to Philip.

‘Slowly,' Philip said. ‘We were hoping to be packed up and ready to move into a rental but we've had delays with the heat. We want to get the house painted and freshened up, but the painter won't work while it's really hot. But it'll all work out in due course.'

‘So what do you have planned for this trip? How long are you staying?'

‘Probably just the week. We really came over to bring Jacqueline her new car. But while we're here we're hoping to do some serious rental house hunting. And of course we'd love to come out and see how things are with you.'

‘Damien's been very innovative,' Ethel chimed in. ‘Tell them about the depository.'

Damien flushed a little with the attention. ‘Well, it's not a huge thing and it's a work in progress, but …' He told them all about it.

‘That's a brilliant idea,' Philip said.

‘Yes, how clever you are,' Eileen enthused.

Damien noticed Jacqueline nodding her agreement. He wished she would look happier about being there.

‘Well,' he said, ‘as good an idea as it is, having the mobile there still hasn't stopped me going up and checking it a couple of times a day.' He gave a tight laugh.

‘It's a start. That's the main thing. You'll get used to it. I'm sure if people have made the effort to bring creatures to you, then they'll make the effort to follow the directions,' Philip said kindly.