The Patterson Girls (16 page)

‘Abigail!' Dad chastised, but Abigail saw the amusement in his eyes.

‘Joking,' she said and Madeleine laughed so no more was said on the matter.

Somehow they finished their coffees and dragged themselves away from the photos. Dad went back into the motel but Aunt Mags followed the girls down the corridor and into their parents' bedroom to continue on with the clothes. Abigail wasn't sure how much work they'd get done with their eccentric aunty buzzing about but she was glad of her presence. It was almost impossible to be glum when Auntie Mags was running commentary.

As they delved deeper into Mum's cupboards, arguments ensued over her shoes and accessories. Madeleine was all for throwing practically everything out or at least donating it to the local op shop.

Lucinda shook her head at this suggestion. ‘I don't want all the locals walking around town in Mum's old clothes.'

Abigail had to agree. Although she wouldn't be around to see such a sight, she didn't like the idea of it. If they had to give away Mum's stuff, she'd rather it went further afield, but the truth was, she didn't want to give any of it away.

‘Doesn't this feel wrong?' she said, holding up a beautiful soft chenille jumper and touching it against her cheek. It still smelled of Mum's citrus perfume. ‘It's like with every item we agree to throw away, we're getting rid of a little bit of her.'

She swallowed, knowing that any moment, she'd succumb to tears. She'd been strong the last few days—even when Dad had given them the scare of their life—but the emotional exhaustion of Dad, Mum and keeping her secret was starting to take its toll.

Her sisters looked stricken and neither said a word, surprising for two people who usually had plenty to say about everything.

‘Now, now, girls,' Aunt Mags chided. ‘Don't get so maudlin.' She heaved herself up from where she'd been perched on the bed, all but snatched the jumper from Abigail and shoved it into a black plastic bag. ‘Your mother wasn't that jumper. Just like she wasn't those shoes or any of these dresses. I know you're all terrified about forgetting her, but that will never happen while you hold her close in your hearts. You need to hold onto the special memories—your individual ones and the ones you all share. No one can ever take those away from you.'

Abigail and her sisters nodded and she guessed their heads were probably as full of such memories as hers was.

‘You're absolutely right,' Lucinda said, folding the blouse she'd been holding and placing it into the black bag.

Aunt Mags grinned, her ancient smile lines crinkling around her eyes. ‘I'm not saying you need to ditch everything, but be sensible. Your father set you girls this task because he can't bear to throw anything away that belonged to Annette, but he trusts you to sort the special keepsakes from the rest. Now, let's keep going or you're not going to finish before you all fly away again.'

Abigail allowed herself one more quick sniff and then continued on with her aunt and sisters. Eventually they managed to divide it all into piles to throw and piles to donate, with certain items to be kept because they
were
sentimental, like the pair of Russian doll earrings Mum wore every year on her birthday. All the sisters were to go home with a pair of shoes or a special outfit that meant something to them. Although Charlie wasn't there, they were mindful of her and shot off the occasional photo message to keep her in the loop.

They slowed again when they started on the other boxes. Whenever they found something that made them a little weepy—like the baby scrapbooks Mum had lovingly crafted long before it was fashionable to do such things—Mags would say something funny to make them all smile again. She'd remind them that these books and all the other memories Mum had made simply proved what a special person she was.

‘And don't forget to speak about her with Brian,' she said. ‘Men typically don't like to wear their hearts on their sleeves but bottling up grief isn't healthy for anyone.'

‘I think we've seen that first hand,' Madeleine mused, referring to Dad's ride in the ambulance and his short stay in hospital.

‘Exactly.' Aunt Mags nodded once. ‘It's up to us women to show him that talking about Annette is both healthy for the soul and necessary to keep her memory alive. Your mum was one of a kind, my lovelies, and she deserves to be remembered accordingly.'

On this the Patterson girls all agreed.

Chapter Eleven

Madeleine felt an uncharacteristic clench of guilt around her heart as she leant forward to hug Dad goodbye. Back on his feet now, although supposedly taking things easy, he'd insisted on driving her and Abigail to the bus stop in Port Augusta. Lucinda had stayed behind at the motel with Mrs Sampson, and Charlie and Mitch would be back tomorrow. She should have been over the moon that she was heading back to normality, back to her job at St Joe's, but she couldn't help but feel she was bailing out of other responsibilities.

‘Promise to be sensible,' she said as she pulled out of her father's embrace to look at him. ‘You scared us all the other day and I don't want the next time I come home to be your funeral.' It was blunt, but sometimes you needed to say things as they were. ‘Let Charlie take on the load Mum used to carry. Maybe even take up a hobby or something. Didn't you used to play golf way back when the dinosaurs roamed the earth?'

‘Just because you're as tall as me now, young lady, doesn't mean I'll put up with your cheek.' But he smiled as he said this and Madeleine felt satisfied he looked a little more rested than when they'd arrived a week ago. ‘Who knows, maybe I will dig out the old clubs.'

‘That's what I like to hear.' She gave him another kiss on the cheek as Abigail nudged her in the side. ‘They're about to leave, we have to go.'

Madeleine stepped aside as Abigail threw her arms around Dad. ‘I love you, Daddy. I'm going to miss you. Promise I'll come visit again soon.' She sniffed as she pulled back and Madeleine saw there was water in their father's eyes also.

‘Come on, they'll leave without us,' she said before she too started blubbering. That was what she got for hanging out with her overemotional sisters for a week. Smiling inwardly, she thought she actually might miss them this time. Despite the odd disagreement and the stresses of dealing with Dad's heart scare, it had been fun spending time with them. After Lucinda had opened up to Madeleine, they'd felt closer than they had in a long time and she hoped she'd be hearing good news from her sister and Joe very soon.

One thing she wouldn't miss was cleaning the rooms. Rubber gloves did not for a good look make. Except in theatre of course.

With no time to stand around reminiscing, she grabbed hold of Abigail's hand and tugged her towards the open door of the bus. ‘Bye, Dad,' they called over their shoulders.

He stood in front of the bus stop, waving as they climbed on board and settled themselves in the seats Madeleine had reserved right up the front. She couldn't recall the last time she'd travelled by bus—maybe in high school on an excursion—but they hadn't wanted Dad or Lucinda to have to drive them all the way to Adelaide. Hugo, who always teased her about enjoying the finer things in life, would laugh himself stupid if he ever found out. Not that he would. By the time she got off her flight at Thurgood Marshall airport, any horrors she might experience on this bus would have been overridden by the pleasure of flying international first class.

Abigail sighed as she slumped into her seat next to Madeleine. ‘I feel like we only just arrived and now we're leaving.'

‘And yet at the same time I feel like we've been home forever,' Madeleine said. Funny how she still thought of Meadow Brook as home, even though she never planned to go back there for good. ‘It'll be good to get back to work though. I don't want to have to change anyone else's sheets for as long as I live.'

Abigail made a tiny noise as if she were trying to laugh but hadn't quite been able.

‘You okay?' Madeleine asked.

‘Yeah.' Her sister nodded and pasted on a clearly forced smile. ‘I just …' She shook her head. ‘Maybe I should have stuck around a bit longer. It doesn't seem fair leaving Charlie to shoulder all the responsibility and—'

Madeleine cut her off. ‘Don't be ridiculous. You can't give up your position in the orchestra and Dad would hate himself if you did. He's got Charlie
and
Mrs Sampson now; they'll keep him in line.'

Abigail exhaled slowly. ‘I guess you're right.'

‘Of course I am.' Then, as the bus veered away from the kerb, Madeleine asked, ‘Is your boyfriend flying back to London with you? What's his name again?' Come to think of it, she wasn't sure Abigail had ever said.

‘Um … Jack. And no. He's spending another couple of weeks with his family.'

‘You didn't want to catch up with him and meet the parents?'

‘Lord, no.' Abigail sounded appalled. ‘We're not at that stage yet.'

The bus driver's voice sounded through the overhead speakers. ‘Welcome to those joining us at Port Augusta. A brief reminder that this is a non-smoking environment and if you choose to consume any food or drink on the journey, please take all rubbish with you when you leave. Our next stop is Port Pirie.'

At the mention of food, Madeleine's stomach turned a little. She tried to distract herself by talking to Abigail again. ‘You must be excited about getting back to London. I still can't believe you didn't bring your violin.'

‘I don't know what I was thinking,' Abigail admitted. ‘I cannot wait to play. Do you ever go see concerts in Baltimore?'

‘Occasionally,' Madeleine said. ‘Although probably not the type you mean. There's a little bar not far from the hospital that has live bands on Friday nights. Sometimes a few of us go there for after-work drinks and end up staying until the early hours of the morning, when we're not on call of course.'

The two of them talked music and bands for a little while longer but halfway to Port Pirie, Madeleine's travel sickness arrived with a vengeance. It was all she could do for the rest of the journey to stop from throwing up, which made conversation impossible. Abigail played with her phone and finally, after what seemed like the longest bus ride in the history of bus rides, they arrived at Adelaide Airport.

After collecting their luggage from beneath the bus, the sisters went inside to check in. Abigail's flight was a few hours later than Madeleine's so after passing through customs they grabbed a couple of takeaway coffees and went to bide time at the gate. A couple of toddlers—twins perhaps—played not far from Abigail and Madeleine's feet, their harried-looking parents sitting in the row of chairs opposite. Madeleine laughed at their antics as they argued over an ugly looking doll with blue hair. There was also one with pink but neither of them wanted that one.

Her mind drifted. What would it be like to have a child of her own? To not simply bring other people's babies into the world, but have the whole experience for herself? It wasn't the first time she'd pondered these thoughts, but she usually pushed them aside for lack of a partner to have said baby with. As far as everyone else believed, she was a career woman first and foremost, with no desire at all to have a family. She'd managed to perfect this line and the persona that came with it so well that most of the time she believed it herself. After all, she was an experienced obstetrician at the top of her game, earning a more than hefty income and she loved what she did. Her apartment was gorgeous and her wardrobe one that other women envied. Shouldn't all this be enough?

‘They're absolute ratbags,' laughed the young mum, noticing Madeleine watching as one twin reached out to yank the other one's pigtail.

‘But oh-so-cute,' Madeleine replied, smiling as their dad reprimanded them. They looked up at him with their big, brown, angelic eyes and then promptly burst into tears. She couldn't help but stare as the parents gave each other a fed-up look and then each scooped up a child and pulled them onto their laps. The twins threw their arms around their parents' necks, snuggling in, one sucking her thumb and the other reaching up and bestowing kisses on the man, who tried his best to look stern.

Abigail dug her in the side. ‘You're not getting clucky, are you?' she asked, sounding amused.

Madeleine scoffed and looked away from the little family. ‘Course not,' she lied.

No way was she ready to admit such an alien thought to her sister anyway. Abigail would probably laugh, thinking she was joking. Lucinda had been the one to help their mother with her younger sisters, whereas Madeleine had been far more interested in doing her homework. From an early age, when a teacher at Meadow Brook Primary School had remarked on her being smarter than most of the other students, she'd known she wanted to do something that used her brains. She'd worked hard throughout school, thriving on achievement and positive reinforcement from her teachers, parents and peers. She liked learning and had aimed high, studying hard through high school to get the grades for Medicine. It was that or Law, but although she'd topped the class in all subjects, she'd always preferred science to humanities, so in the end her decision had come down to that.

A medical degree, although rewarding, was gruelling, as were the first few years as a young doctor on rotation. Choosing to specialise in obstetrics had added years on top of all that but she'd loved every moment of the study and the job, not once feeling as if she was missing out on a social life. She dated other doctors, people who like her didn't have time for a relationship but were happy to scratch an itch when necessary, going their separate ways without any heartbreak once the initial spark had worn off. If the thought of settling down ever visited, it was fleeting, something to consider later, when her career was established.