sight of the playground. Instantly, my mind was invited into fantasies of years gone by and I felt my mood lift. Pausing to take it in, I watched, still amazed at the impressive tree-house-walk that wound through the roots of massive mature fig trees, incorporating their trunks and low hanging branches. The climbing net, looking like a huge spider’s web, had not been there when I was a child. The real estate agent in me instantly noting that it would have excellent city views from the top
With a smile, I watched as a young mother pushed her little girl on a swing, while a round faced baby brother, sucked furiously on his green dummy, from the safety of his pram.
‘Higher Mummy, higher Mummy,’ the girl squealed with delight. And then my mood fell again. As if in protective mode, I folded my arms against my chest. I knew that this was what I was missing. This… normalcy! I was nearing my thirty-fifth birthday and was single, but more painfully, childless. All of those years I had spent working in the corporate world had come around and bitten me, rendering me alone.
‘Cry, let it out,’ Emerald Green had said. ‘No pain, no gain.’ But there was too much pain and I wondered if I let it out, would I ever be able to stop. Surreptitiously, I wiped at my face, hoping no one would see my grief. Unable to punish myself further, I walked on, my thoughts drifting to only the year before.
*
Felicity had been with us for some months, and I was going in to the office less and less. I had felt my decision to hire her had been excellent. The truth was, I had outgrown the job, and I was well overdue for the position as a mother.
For the first time, I was spending huge chunks of time at home, nesting and loving every minute of it. Wonderful culinary feasts were prepared, we entertained lavishly, and I loved the fact that I didn’t have to be superwoman, and for the first time could be a homemaker. I couldn’t believe I was having those thoughts, however I was. I was also having thoughts of never returning to the corporate world, or at least, not for some time.
I didn’t voice my feelings to many, as it seemed disloyal as a woman, to not want it all. After all, I had been Telstra Young Business Woman of the Year only a couple of years earlier. However, my feelings had changed. At this stage of my life, I wanted a traditional relationship, where the man went to work and earned the money, and I stayed at home, cooking and having babies. Odd, I know.
Nearly a year went by while pregnancy eluded me. In desperation, I had begged Davis for the two of us to take a holiday. He kept putting me off, saying that the timing wasn’t right. Finally, he gave in. I was ecstatic. I checked my ovulation dates and booked accordingly.
There we were in one of the Small Luxury Hotels of the World at Blanket Bay in New Zealand, and my husband had turned into an adrenaline junkie. If he wasn’t bungy jumping, he was parasailing, jet boating, mountain hiking, heli-skiing and canyoning. I was exhausted just watching him and felt that we were wasting our precious small window of ovulation in the most romantic of stone lodges on Lake Wakatipu. At one point, Davis had even suggested that we cut short our stay in the lodge and hike to Milford Sound. I told him that was not going to get me pregnant, and began to wonder if he knew exactly how it was done. Sure I wanted him to have fun, but I wanted him to have fun with me.
Although he was on a high, it seemed as if our days were filled with adventure, and every night he was exhausted. One night he even said, ‘For God’s sake Peach, I’ve had it.’ I should have taken that as a hint, silly me, however so tunnel visioned was I with my biological clock ticking away rapidly, I needed a sledge hammer to hit me over the head to get it.
Anyway that was my first tip off. Second one, the next night, New Year’s Eve. Mid our eight course degustation, the mystical sound of bagpipes drifted into the dining room, drawing us and the other guests out onto the stone terrace. Spellbound, we listened to the unique harmonics, as the bagpiper played Amazing Grace, stirring all sorts of emotions in me. Shivering, I wrapped my arms tighter around myself and stepped in closer to the man in my life, thinking we were the luckiest people on earth to be in these surroundings.
‘Are you cold?’ he asked. ‘I’ll get your jacket.’ I smiled at my chivalrous hero, telling him to be quick. I didn’t want him to miss any part of this evening.
When the bagpiper had finished, the other couples returned inside, however Davis still hadn’t returned. Surprised, I went in search of him. I walked through the drawing room, passing the mammoth stone fireplace, thinking maybe he’d become waylaid there. I continued up the huge staircase and along the hallway to our room. The door was ajar.
I glanced around at our empty luxurious suite, noticing once again the sumptuous furnishings and elegant rug, the schist stone walls, and the timber beams. I made a mental note that the next day, there was to be no more activities. A day in this room was required. Earlier, we must have left the French doors ajar. We could not get enough of the view of the spectacular lake and the snow-capped mountains. They looked so close that it was as if we just stretched our hands out, we could touch them. I crossed the room to secure the door and with surprise noticed Davis’s tall shadowy figure in the darkness leaning against the balcony rail. He had his back to me. I went to call out, but noticed he had his phone to his ear.
Listening, I strained wondering who he would be talking to at that time of night. Davis didn’t say much at first, he just seemed to be listening. Then he said, ‘Yes, okay then. I need time.’ And then he paused again and after listening, he chuckled. ‘You’re very persuasive. You know that, don’t you? Yes, I know, I know. I feel the same way.’ It wasn’t so much what he said, it was the tone of voice he used.
For what seemed to be an eternity, I didn’t move. My heart hammered in my chest so loudly, I was sure he could hear it as well. Feeling desperately ill, I put a hand out to the wall as the cold hand of fear clutched at my heart.
Silently running back the way I had come, I returned to the dining room, terrified my face would give me away to the other guests. Within minutes Davis followed suit, minus my jacket. I didn’t ask where it was, there was no need. And I didn’t know how I was going to get through the next four courses. With my hands clutched together under the table, I kept thinking I was going to throw up. Rapidly, I blinked back tears. Looking at the man I loved, I wanted to beg him not to do this to me. He was my best friend, my lover, my life, the father of our unmade babies.
I watched anxiously as Davis drank from his wine glass, oblivious to my state of mind. And then the crushing blow hit me. I thought maybe I had gotten away with it, like when you kick your toe and for that first moment there’s nothing, and then the pain hits you. It hit me, like a sledge hammer hurting in a place I didn’t know I had.
Two weeks earlier, a staff Christmas party at our home. I was busy topping Atlantic salmon slices with my homemade chilli jam. Felicity was propped on a stool chatting to me, firstly saying that I had the most awesome life. I was so lucky. She even commented on my black and white striped apron with hot pink ties. It was one of those back handed compliments. ‘How… Stepford Wife-ish of you,’ she cooed, batting her lashes, throwing her head back and laughing. ‘You look very…’ she searched for the word, ‘cute!’
She then went on to tell me that Address was the best thing that had ever happened to her, every now and then elegantly recrossing her long tanned legs. The aquamarine mini dress she was wearing riding sky high. Her pretty blonde hair was in waves around her face. A brand new Louis Vuitton clutch on her lap. I remembered thinking could this girl get any more beautiful?
Davis had come in looking for something in one of the kitchen drawers. I noticed the way Felicity turned side on and over a bare tanned shoulder, flashed her eyes at him. I remembered pausing, hands clad in oven mitts, with the kitchen tray in my hand, stunned, and thinking she was a tad obvious. I had this sudden urge to say, ‘Excuse me dear, but I am in the room. Do you mind?’ But so taken aback was I, that I didn’t say a word. Party noises drifted inside from the terrace.
Davis appeared oblivious. He placed his wine glass on the monolithic stainless steel kitchen bench, and rifling through the cutlery drawer he asked me where the gas refill was for the wine opener. There was a feeling, and I couldn’t put my finger on it.