This is nice,’ she said lamely.
‘Yep — and it’s breaking me financially, but the kids love it,’ He paused. ‘Oh, maybe you don’t know. I’ve got two sons — they’re with the girls and Kathy.’
Lorraine nodded, presuming Kathy to be their stepmother. She stepped into the big open room, where toys and newspapers, even breakfast dishes, had been left on a huge round table facing the ocean window.
‘Sorry about the mess but Sundays we just let everything hang out. Now sit down and I’ll get some coffee going.’
Lorraine sat on the wide sofa. She looked slowly around the room, at the paintings, the throw rugs, the grains of sand that sparkled on the floor. ‘Can I smoke?’
Mike cleared the table, and looked up. ‘Sure, I’ll find you an ashtray.’
She lit up, her hand shaking so much that she glanced over to see if he’d noticed, but he was carrying a stack of dishes into the kitchen. The door closed and she inhaled deeply, letting the smoke fill her lungs. She got up and stood by the open window, taking deep breaths to calm herself.
Mike held onto the edge of the sink, shaken. Nothing had prepared him for the way she looked. She had aged so much — she was skin and bone, her face scarred so badly she seemed to squint. He shook his head, wishing he had more time to prepare the girls. Then he heard Sissy calling, and before he had time to warn her not to come down, she was in the drawing room. He listened at the door.
Sissy was wrapped in a cotton kimono. She was deeply tanned and had waist-length, ash-blonde hair. She was as tall as Lorraine, but full-breasted, her legs muscular and taut. Her long arms and perfect hands immediately pulled the kimono closer as she had no belt and was naked beneath it. ‘I’m sorry, I didn’t know anyone was here.’
Lorraine bowed her head. ‘I’m, er... well, I guess you knew I was coming. I’m Lorraine.’
‘Oh, yeah, I’m sorry. Where’s Mike?’
Lorraine swallowed. ‘He’s making me some coffee.’
She wondered who the beauty was, but Sissy seemed totally at ease, striding to the kitchen. ‘Darling, you should have said, or yelled up that Lorraine was here. I’ll go back up and shower, leave you two to have a chat... Mike?’
He walked out of the kitchen and slipped his arm around Sissy. ‘Well, you’ve met. This is my wife, Sissy.’
Lorraine forced a smile as Sissy walked out and up the stairs. ‘She’s very beautiful,’ she said quietly.
Mike nodded. ‘The girls adore her, and — well, lemme get the coffee.’
Lorraine looked out onto the verandah and lit another cigarette from the stub. Then she started to cough, one of her awful, chesty, phlegmy coughs that made her feel weak and her eyes run. She gasped, tried to control it and Mike appeared with a glass of water.
‘You should give that up!’
She shrugged, still coughing, and took the glass. Mike returned to the kitchen, and Lorraine remained outside on the verandah, sitting on one of the wooden bench seats. She drained the glass and set it carefully on the table. At least her hands were no longer shaking.
Mike carried out the tray of coffee and set it down. He poured a cup, and she smiled. It was the first time she even faintly resembled her old self: Mike noticed that she still had the palest of blue eyes.
‘So. It’s been a long time, hasn’t it? I’ve often wondered how you were, hoped you’d get in touch.’
He waited for her to reply but she stared ahead. He could see the deep scar down her cheek, and her body shaking slightly. He’d sometimes wondered how he would react to seeing her again. He’d expected to feel anger, or perhaps attraction, rather than this deep sadness. He had worried that she might have some custody query, or have become financially secure enough to want the girls to live with her. But the worn, old-fashioned safari suit, the cheap shoes, everything about her looked seedy and worn. Worse still was Lorraine herself. She had always been so positive, arrogant even, now all he could see was a pitiful shell of what she had once been. That was what he felt more than anything: pity, and an overwhelming relief she was no longer part of his life.
‘I don’t drink any more, Mike.’ Her voice was smoky from too many cigarettes, deeper than he remembered.
‘Good, that’s good...’ he said, hesitantly.
‘But I sure as hell could do with one now!’
Chapter 7
Lorraine sat on the verandah shading her eyes, waiting for the first glimpse of her daughters. Mike stepped out carrying two photo albums, and came to sit beside her. Momentarily her shoulder rubbed against his.
‘These are my boys — Chip, whose real name is Charles, and this is Mike junior.’ They were both blond, both as beautiful as their mother. She quickly turned the pages back to the beginning, barely interested in Mike’s sons. The first photograph was one she remembered: they were sitting side by side on a piano stool, Sally with a front tooth missing.
Mike looked up, hearing a shout from the beach. ‘Here they are...’
Lorraine stood up and leaned on the rail. Sissy had one boy by each hand, and behind her walked a dark-haired teenager — but running up ahead were the girls. Sally and Julia, torn jeans, faded T-shirts, as suntanned as Sissy, they shouted and waved. Lorraine was stunned. They were both so tall, so different... she would have passed them in the street and not recognized them. ‘My God,’ she murmured.
Mike laughed. ‘Yeah, they grow up fast, don’t they?’
Sally was ten, Julia twelve. Six years was a very long time. Their initial exuberance faltered as they reached the verandah, and they turned to Sissy as if they needed her to be with them, but Mike called for them to come on up. Julia was tall for her age, as slim as Lorraine had been at twelve.
‘Hello.’
Lorraine smiled. She would have liked to put her arms around her daughter, but she wasn’t sure if that was what she wanted. Sally wouldn’t come close; she hung back as if afraid. Sissy slipped her arm around Julia’s shoulder. ‘Now, why don’t you three show Lorraine the photo album, and I’ll make some lunch?’
‘Okay,’ said Julia.
Sally sat beside Lorraine, but Mike followed Sissy into the lounge and pulled the doors half closed behind him. He watched for a moment before joining his wife in the kitchen.
The three sat in uncomfortable silence. Lorraine knew the dolls were a mistake — certainly for Julia, who seemed sophisticated and grown-up. Sally sat with her head bowed.
‘I’m sorry not to have kept in touch with you both...’ Lorraine said haltingly.
Julia gave her a strange, furtive look. ‘That’s okay. This is me winning a swimming prize at school.’ Lorraine leaned forward to look at the photograph, and the tension eased slightly.
Lunch was served inside because it was cooler, and Julia showed Lorraine where the bathroom was so she could wash her hands. Lorraine crept from room to room, peeking in at each door, until she found her daughters’ bedroom. It was full of posters and rugs, old teddy bears and a wardrobe bulging with clothes. Untidy comforters lay on their unmade beds, but it was a room any girl would covet. The last door she opened revealed Mike’s study, the walls covered with pictures of the family, and some of himself on fishing trips. There was a large modern desk with stacks of files and papers, and Lorraine was just closing the door when she caught sight of a picture of herself, with the girls. It surprised her that he would have it, and she edged into the room, afraid that anyone should hear her creeping around.
She leaned across the desk to get a better view of the photograph and then froze as she inadvertently knocked some papers onto the floor. They were business letters, and as she glanced disinterestedly over them, the letter heading of one document caught her eye. The company was a vintage automobile reconditioning firm, specializing in imported cars. The letter confirmed that leather upholstery had been installed in a Mercedes sports car, circa 1966, and the client had refused to accept the costs. It was not, however, the contents of the letter that caught Lorraine’s attention, it was the small black and green oval raised letters of the company logo: S & A. She was almost certain she had seen it before... not on a letter... It was on a pair of cufflinks.