Three’s a Crowd (10 page)

Then her period was late. James backed off, almost imperceptibly at first, more obvious in hindsight. They were back at school, the beginning of their HSC year, so she wasn't seeing him quite as much. He said she'd better check it out, but she was too afraid. A week passed and she phoned him, but he wasn't home apparently. His mother said she'd let him know she'd called. There were no mobile phones then, no SMS or MSN or any way to send private messages back and forth. When she hadn't heard from him for more than a week she began to feel desperate. She waited outside his school on the day he had rugby practice so he couldn't avoid her. He looked a little peeved, but he left his friends and walked with her to the train station. He asked her if she'd done the test. She hadn't. He gave her a twenty-dollar note. ‘Do it,' he insisted. ‘Then come to my house on Friday afternoon.' She went, but she still hadn't done the test. It was completely irrational of course, but her reasoning was that while she didn't know, she didn't have to deal with it. James was annoyed, frustrated, even angry. She started to cry, and he hugged her. And then he kissed her, and then they had sex. And everything seemed like it was going to be all right that afternoon. It was February, hot, golden, summery. He told her not to worry, to have the test and then they'd work out what to do. Rachel went with her to the chemist, and they went back to her place to do it. She remembered shaking so much she had trouble holding the indicator stick still. She burst into tears when the two blue lines appeared.

Catherine called James's house and he came to the phone this time. She told him it was positive, and they arranged to meet at the end of the week.

On the Wednesday night, after dinner, Catherine was working on a major English assignment in her bedroom. Her parents and her brother were watching
A Current Affair
on TV. There was a knock at the door, probably one of her brother's mates, her parents never had any visitors.

She heard voices, a formal tone. Catherine was curious, she came out of her room. James's father was sitting in an armchair opposite her parents, with a briefcase on his lap. Her insides lurched. What was going on? Where was James?

‘Evening, Catherine,' said Mr Barrett. ‘Your mother and father don't seem to have any idea what I'm doing here.'

She swallowed. ‘Me either. Where's James?'

‘At home, attending to his studies, like he should have been all along.' He paused meaningfully. ‘So do you want to tell them, or shall I?'

Catherine froze. This couldn't be happening. What
was
happening?

‘Would you like me to leave the room?' he persisted.

She found her voice. ‘I'd like you to leave my house.'

‘Catherine,' her mother admonished. ‘Where's your manners?'

‘Just what's going on here?' her father frowned, but his voice held no authority, just hapless confusion.

Mr Barrett looked pointedly at Catherine. ‘You need to tell them, Catherine. It's not going to go away, at least not by itself.'

It still made her sick to the stomach thinking about it. How were her parents supposed to take the news, there in their lounge room, in front of a total stranger? They were in shock, which was the only way Catherine could forgive them for what they proceeded to do. Not that she'd really ever forgiven them, but it was the only way she could abide them at all.

Mr Barrett presented her parents with an ‘agreement' which ran to several typed pages, full of legalese and double-talk which would have stumped her parents in the best of circumstances. And these were clearly not the best of circumstances. The Barretts would pay an amount equivalent to the full cost of an abortion, plus an additional sum for ‘damages', thus more than meeting
their obligations. What Catherine chose to do after that was on her own head, and they would not be liable for any costs whatsoever associated with bringing up the product of a pregnancy they would elect to terminate if the decision was up to them. There was the additional coda that while their son had admitted to having sexual relations with Catherine, there was no incontrovertible proof that the child was in fact his, so all in all, they were more than meeting any obligation that may be deemed reasonable under the circumstances. The settlement was therefore to remain closed and no further action could be taken.

Catherine's parents were not very well educated, they had left school at the minimum age, her father having worked himself up over the years to become a supervisor in a manufacturing plant. Her mother was a housewife. They were caring, but ineffectual. They didn't have a hope against Mr Barrett. And such was their shame and embarrassment at their daughter's indiscretion, they became obsequious to a fault. They tried to assure him he didn't have to pay any money, and they didn't need to sign any papers. But Mr Barrett knew better. They signed the papers and he signed a cheque, and that was to be the end of that.

In a rare display of maternal authority, Catherine's mother promptly carted her off to the doctor, and a due date was determined. It was never openly discussed, but there was no option for Catherine but to have the baby. She'd left it too long in her fear, but her parents were against it anyway, due to some vague moral code based on an even vaguer nominal religion. Catherine knew she would have to inform the school, so she approached her year mistress, a kind and understanding woman, who nonetheless was obliged to follow established protocol. She had no choice but to report it to the principal.

The following week her parents were called to the school to ‘discuss' their daughter's predicament. Catherine had always been ambitious, it was she alone who had organised and applied for the scholarship to the school. Her parents had been confounded at the time; why did she want to traipse all the way across to the other side of Sydney when there was a school just up the road? But Catherine was determined, and of course she got her way. But no longer. She was not allowed to sit in on the meeting with
the principal, nor was she given any opportunity to state her case. They simply could not accommodate a senior student in her condition, wearing the uniform, turning up at the school every day. As she was due to give birth right on the eve of the HSC, the likelihood of her even sitting the exam was slim, so she would only be wasting everyone's time, attract unwelcome attention, and probably be a distraction to the other girls. The principal graciously assured her parents they would not record an expulsion, as long as no further action was taken or correspondence entered into. Her parents had not the vaguest idea of what such action would be and were once again only too willing to oblige.

Catherine could not bring herself to front up at the local high school, especially in her ‘condition'. The Schadenfreude of her old cohort from primary school would be more than she could bear. She kept a low profile, immersing herself in her HSC texts, along with the odd baby manual. Alice was born two days after her due date, and Catherine got straight back on track to complete her HSC the following year. Sometimes, looking at Alice now at the same age, Catherine wondered how on earth she'd done it. Alice was a very good baby, and she did have her mother right there, but she was only a child herself. She supposed her motivation was overpowering – she was so terrified that she would get sucked back into the outer suburbs and that all she'd be able to give Alice was her life all over again. She was determined they would live in the right suburbs, that Alice would go to the right schools, and if anyone ever tried to cross her daughter, they were going to have to deal with Catherine first.

She never expressed her intense and profound heartbreak at being abandoned so soundly by James. She never heard from him again, he never made any attempt to contact her. So Catherine decided that success would be her best revenge. She would never again let herself get in the position where someone could wield such absolute power over her.

Her outstanding exam results assured her entry into a law degree, which she went on to complete with first-class honours. She was courted by all the major law firms, but she made the bizarre choice – at least in the minds of those who knew little about her – to apply for a position with an albeit prestigious firm
specialising in family law. She married an associate, Brendan Travis, soon after, but quickly discovered he was a player. Catherine was not about to let herself be humiliated again, and so she nipped it in the bud. She didn't regret their eighteen-month marriage. He was good-looking, good in bed, and had probably provided a leg-up in her career; the settlement she gained certainly gave her a leg-up in the property market.

There followed a string of minor dalliances; Catherine admitted she liked having a man around, but she was going to be very particular about who she settled down with next, not least for Alice's sake. So she indulged in a period of dating, making up for her lost teenage years, though with men who had far bigger bank accounts.

When she decided to get serious, she chose Martin, an accomplished lawyer with a solid reputation and financial security, but homely, in the fullest sense of the word. He couldn't believe someone like Catherine was interested in him, he said she was the most attractive woman he'd ever been with. And that suited her. Martin wouldn't be playing the field; Martin would never abandon her for someone else; Martin would treat her like a goddess. Catherine was shrewd to a fault, she learned from her mistakes and was careful not to repeat them.

Being with Martin gave her the freedom and security to focus her energies on her career. She quickly became known as a ball-breaker, obtaining infamous settlements for the discarded wives of the well-to-do, who smugly believed their flimsy pre-nups would insulate them from paying for their infidelities. Well, not on Catherine's watch. Her success gave her some sway with the partners and she persuaded them to allow her to take on pro bono cases, helping abandoned wives of the less well heeled get justice as well. But her proudest achievement, at least privately, had been the setting up of an advisory board to develop and fund programs to assist teenage mothers to complete their education. This had subsequently led to the establishment of a scholarship for talented girls from such programs to attend university.

So perhaps it was the success of others that became her best revenge in the end.

As Lexie approached the café, her heart sank. It was packed to overflowing. Which she should have expected; it was a gorgeous early summer day, the beach was crowded as she drove past, and she'd had to park blocks away. It would almost have been quicker to come on foot along the coastal walk from their place. Of course, the most sensible thing to do on such a warm day would have been to stay at home and let the kids splash around in their little wading pool. But Lexie couldn't stay at home, not today.

As she steered the pram around the tables and chairs out on the footpath, Riley tugged on her arm.

‘Mummy, can I go find Daddy?'

‘You better not just go running in, sweetheart,' said Lexie. ‘It's too crowded, and Daddy's probably very busy.'

She was contemplating how she was even going to get the pram inside, when one of the waitresses noticed her.

‘Hi Lexie!' It was Claire; she had worked here part-time since she started uni, and she was an absolute asset to the place. But they were going to lose her soon, she was about to graduate and take off overseas. Claire set about politely but efficiently shifting chairs and their occupants to make room for Lexie and the pram.

‘Thank you, Claire.' Lexie gave her a relieved smile.

‘Hey Riley, let's go surprise Daddy!' Claire said, offering her hand, which he took without hesitation.

They disappeared around the main counter, and Lexie heard Claire announce him. ‘Someone important to see you, Scott.'

A few moments later Scott emerged from the kitchen, carrying Riley and wearing a pleased but quizzical smile. ‘Hey, hun.'

Lexie smiled back. ‘Bad idea, huh?'

‘No,' he said unconvincingly. ‘We're just a little busy.'

‘Dadda! Up! Up!' Mia cried.

He bent over, still holding Riley. ‘Hi sweetie. Daddy will get you out in just a minute.'

‘Hey Riley?' It was Claire again. ‘Wanna come and help me make your smoothie? Mango, right?'

‘Mango Dadda!' Mia squealed.

Riley happily transferred over to Claire, and Scott crouched down to release Mia from the pram, lifting her up into his arms. ‘Bring the pram through here, Lex,' he said.

She pushed it into the far corner of the café, behind a screen that hid the door to the storeroom. Bean East had begun its life more than a decade ago, capitalising on the trend in all things South-East Asian. But the Balinese interiors had become tired and the menu had evolved over time, so a couple of years ago the café underwent a cosmetic revamp, giving it a more streamlined, modern look, using dark timber fittings and solid blocks of colour. The ‘east' now had more to do with its location in Sydney, though there remained a vaguely Asian influence in a couple of the wall hangings and the Buddha that kept watch from his post on the counter.