Jacaranda Wife by Smith Kendra

Author:Smith, Kendra [Smith, Kendra]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Endeavour Press
Published: 2015-03-19T07:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER THIRTY

Katie had never known a trip take so long. No Tom, no can-do spirit left in me, she thought, just endless airport queues, a Godalmighty hangover, quarrelling children on the plane, queuing again for taxis. They pulled into a gas station after Katie realised she didn’t have enough money in her purse. She looked worriedly at her balance which was alarmingly low, wondered how much to tip. Don’t fall at the first hurdle.

Finally, they pulled into Ponderosa Avenue and it all looked comfortingly familiar. It was much cooler in Sydney than in Queensland and Katie felt frozen despite some slight sunburn. It was a wet, dark July night as the taxi pulled up by their front door, the bougainvillea stood wearily in pots on either side of the door, the fuchsia petals soggy from the rain. She yanked her cardigan around her waist as she got out the taxi.

Silently, she tipped fish fingers onto a baking tray, put some frozen bread in the toaster and sat in silence with Andy and James, eating fish finger sandwiches. Rory was asleep in the car seat. Even he seems to have detected that something was up, she mused; that there had been a step change without him knowing, a shift of gear. Nobody squealed, nobody dared to throw the tomato sauce around.

Quietly she changed them into their pyjamas.

‘Where’s Daddy?’ James asks.

‘Had to stay a bit longer, it’s his work,’ she lied. Tom being away for long stretches to Asia will now come in handy, she thought, pulling out the legs of the pyjamas so Andy could step into them. His absences are part and parcel of the boys’ lives, she realised. Saying Daddy’s away on work had become normal for them, what they expected. Daddy not being there in the mornings on their birthday when they woke up; Daddy not there to tuck them up for the fourth night in a row.

‘So will he have to go to his meetings in his swimmers?’

‘No darling, I’m sure he’ll manage,’ she smiled and flopped down on top of the suitcase. She glanced at Tom’s suit hanging up in the hallway in the dry cleaning cellophane and a pang went through her heart. Oh God. What have I done?

What she didn’t tell the boys was how she had yelled at their father at the resort. How, slightly drunkenly she had packed all the suitcases, staggered to reception and booked him a single room. Told the young man at the front desk to give Mr Parkes the key to the single room when he came back, to hand over the case she had packed for him which lay behind reception. She didn’t tell the boys about her note to Tom which she also left at reception.

‘Dear Tom

I am taking the boys back to Sydney. I have left your stuff. You’ve given me no choice but to re-consider our whole marriage – my vows, your vows. What marriage means to me. How you’ve broken your promise, broken my heart.

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