‘Hey snugglebug, you’ve got to wait until you’re both ready to stop seesawing,’ Neil scolded, leaning down and scooping up Alma. ‘Come see that your little friend’s okay.’
Even though he’d retired from crayfishing years earlier, Neil West was built tough, and he carried his granddaughter, along with the groceries, with ease.
‘Up you get, honey, you’re alright,’ Clem said, brushing bark from Indi’s hair. Within moments, Indi had dried her tears and was back on the seesaw, with Reggie this time.
Clem handed out the coffees. ‘Sorry Kathy, I would’ve brought some for you both if I’d known you were coming.’
‘I’d rather go thirsty than drink Marco’s muck,’ Kathy said. ‘And we’re not staying, just dropping off supplies and stealing another cuddle with this precious boy.’
Kathy extricated a sleeping Cormac from Hazel’s arms and gave her daughter an enormous head of cabbage and a chemist’s shopping bag containing a brand-new breast pump.
Clem smiled, but her eyes prickled at the tender exchange. This was what grandparents were supposed to be like. This was how mums were supposed to treat their daughters when they were in the trenches of motherhood. She hadn’t received help from her mother, not then and not now. When was the last time she’d heard from Renee? Christmas? Easter? Events that coincided with a church-based reminder about the sanctity of family?
‘Mastitis is the worst,’ Hazel said, massaging a milk-heavy breast with the heel of her palm. ‘I can’t believe Cormac’s napping again. If he sleeps much longer, I’ll use that butter knife to hack off this breast.’
Mia grimaced. ‘I had it four times with Reggie. No sign of it with Fred yet, thank goodness, but I’m wary.’
‘Our conversations used to be hip and happening once, didn’t they?’ Hazel groaned. ‘Now all I can talk about is infected milk ducts and the joy of two consecutive hours of sleep. I couldn’t possibly tell you what’s happening in politics. Heaven forbid they hold an election soon because I’ve got no idea who are the goodies and who are the baddies.’
‘I don’t have a newborn and I couldn’t honestly tell you either,’ Clem said. ‘But on the plus side, I can tell you thecurrent wholesale rate for organic carrots, the optimum milk temp for the perfect coffee and the most successful advertising platform in the Limestone Coast. And I bet that before your mummy-brain fog, you could also recite the most popular Aussie novels at the Penwarra Library, speak for hours on the merits of the Dewey decimal system and list the going rate for an author’s speaking fee. And I daresay Mia could rattle off the home economics syllabus, sew a dozen dresses in a weekend and tell us the current price per kilo of crayfish. That’s pretty heady stuff too, you know.’
And while she didn’t hurry off as soon as the coffee was distributed, Clem didn’t linger for long either. She knew it was just a matter of time before one, or both, of the baby boys started crying and while she suspected it wouldn’t be as triggering as the maternity ward, she didn’t want to push her luck.
‘You’re going already? Isn’t it your day off?’
Keeping her attention on the picnic rug, Clem gathered up the Tupperware containers she’d brought the sweets in, and the last of Indi’s belongings.
‘I’d better head off, a million things to do,’ she said, hugging Hazel and Mia goodbye. ‘Get those cabbage leaves on ASAP, before you need antibiotics,’ she said, farewelling them with a wave.
Clem carted Indi from shop to shop, running errands and restocking groceries. They arrived home as Harriet’s school bus came down the road.
‘Look, honey,’ she told Indi, pointing to Harriet dawdling down the driveway. ‘Your big sister nearly beat us home.’
‘We got to nominate our cabin buddies for camp today, Mum,’ Harriet said by way of greeting. ‘And there’s going to be a talent show. Do you think I can use the same piece for my camp talent show entry as the play auditions? But don’ttell the others or they’ll all want to join Penwarra Players too and I won’t have a part. I got full marks on my spelling test. And it’s Pansy’s birthday party soon. We need a present. Plus I need you to help me with my stupid homework.’
It all came out in a breathy, excited sentence with barely a breath in between.
‘What homework, and why is it stupid?’
Harriet ignored the question and skipped ahead, intent on retrieving her rollerblades. Clem could draw her own conclusions, but the likelihood of getting a concrete answer out of Harriet when she was in skater-girl mode were about as slim as the girls’ chance of catching the rogue guinea pig.
‘I’ll think about it Addy, I promise,’ Spencer told his sister. ‘But I only shifted from Narradarra Secondary to Penwarra Area School last year. Technically, it’s fine to move within the public system and they were happy to transfer long service leave, but it looks bad if I’m hopping from school to school.’
It had been a month since he’d seen Addison, and when she’d called early on Sunday morning, his first thought had been their parents. And while he was grateful that there was no bad news on that front, it felt way too early in the morning for a debrief on his career progression.
‘But this is for a principal’s job,’ Addison said. He could hear her pottering around her Adelaide townhouse, and the hubbub of her husband, Bryce, chatting to their teenage kids in the background. Next time he had a free weekend, he really needed to get up there and spend some time with them, before his niece and nephew flew the coop.
‘Last time we spoke, you said you wanted to climb the ladder. I’m doing what big sisters do and exploring your options. This could be the perfect chance. Don’t rule it outuntil you’ve had a good look at the job specs, I’ve emailed you the link. You’d smash it with your senior school leadership experience.’
He laughed at her enthusiasm. She was like their parents, certain that he could do anything he put his mind to. ‘I’ll keep you posted after I’ve read it. Though I’m not sure the Adelaide Hills is the perfect fit for me right now.’
And how would he broach that subject with Ian and Louisa, he wondered, climbing into the ute and heading in their direction for breakfast.
The smoke was curling from the chimney and the colourful tulips and daisies were bobbing in the gentle breeze when Spencer arrived at their house, Dolly trailing behind him.
He opened the kitchen door. Louisa was at the stovetop, stirring a pot of porridge made with the same combination of oats, polenta, sultanas and lecithin flakes that she’d been making her entire life, all year round.
‘Just in time.’ She smiled, fetching another bowl from the overhead cupboard. Dolly sat outside the French doors, her wet nose making marks on the glass as she watched on. Ian ambled into the room, a slight limp in his gait that made his moccasins scuff against the tiles.
