Hugh was delighted to see us. We sauntered around and talked to other grandparents about the great times children have these days. Maris sat with Hugh while he drew and played with blocks, and watched him in the playground digging vigorously in the sand.
‘The sandpit is his favourite,’ the teacher said to Maris.
Maris always had her camera, a small Olympus. The battery was held in by tape because the battery compartment cover was lost, but it took good photos. She took several snaps of Hugh in action and asked the teacher to take a photo of the three of us.
On the way home we called on our daughter Angela. Maris did not want to go inside and we spoke to Angela on the kerb, but were persuaded because Angela’s two year old Eliza was dashing out of the house and threatening to cross the road. Eliza cuddled Maris the whole time in unspoken communication. Maris sat with eyes closed while Eliza rested her head on her lap.
We stopped at the Warringah Council Nursery to look at some native grasses and trees for our garden. Maris enjoyed our garden and whenever I saw her weeding or watering, I knew she was feeling better. When she wasn’t, the plants had to fend for themselves. I was no gardener although Maris called on me when there was heavy work to be done. We didn’t buy any plants but decided that wallaby grass and a few more eucalyptus would suit our garden.
As we drove home, I sensed from her silence that black clouds were gathering. I glanced across at her. She was staring straight ahead, fatigue was in her eyes.
I chatted about the coming wedding, of all the kids being in Sydney. ‘We all love you, Maris.’ I reached over to pat her thigh and steered with one hand.
‘I know. I’m lucky to have such a loving family and caring husband.’ She took my hand.
‘I’ve got a counselling appointment at Lifeline this afternoon. I should cancel it and stay with you.’
‘No, Noel, keep your appointment. I’ll take things quietly and have a rest.’
* * *
Friday night was a big night. The family assembled at Angela’s for a pre-wedding party. Everyone was there except for Stephen and Anthea who guaranteed they would arrive from their country visiting later. Jacinta, Rick and Brody left early in their car as Jacinta was keen to settle young Brody.
Maris and I drove later. Just as we arrived in Angela’s street, Maris became very agitated and confused. She seemed terrified, wringing her hands.
‘Noel, we have to go back home. Stephen will come home and find all his belongings moved.’
‘That’s okay.’
‘No. He will feel rejected and unwelcome.’
‘But Stephen’s not going home. He’s arranged to come to Angela’s first. You can tell him what we’ve done and why.’
‘No. We should go home and put all his things back.’
‘What if I ring Stephen’s mobile as soon as we were inside?’
‘Noel, I need to go to hospital.’
I didn’t know what to do. Should I drive straight to Royal North Shore or Northside? I wasn’t even sure how one was admitted to hospital. Did you just turn up? ‘You’ve got your appointment with the new psychiatrist in two weeks time. He might put you in hospital,’ I said.
‘Noel, I need to go to hospital now,’ Maris repeated, still wringing her hands.
Both my heart and mind were racing as we sat in the darkened car, Maris in crisis and filled with fear. What could I do? I wanted to do the best for her welfare. At the same time, for Stephen and Anthea’s sake, I was frantic for a smooth run, if it was at all possible, up to their wedding.
I took a gamble. ‘Perhaps we should go inside. The family’s waiting. We can think about hospital later.’
She seemed to accept the idea and reached for her handbag. That gesture of tucking her bag under her arm was so familiar, a signal she was ready for action.
I thanked God Stephen answered his mobile. ‘Of course, I’m not concerned. Anthea and I are on our way. See you soon.’
We had a very good night. We met Tim’s new partner Melissa, who came up to all our expectations. I could see they were very fond of each other. Stephen and Anthea arrived. The family settled down to the party with lots of music and chatter. We know how to enjoy ourselves, our mob. Maris took out her battered camera. We took many photos and had lots of laughs.
‘You kids are worse than the oldies,’ I said. ‘When you get together, you reminisce about the old days as if you’ve all lived a hundred years.’
I was still uneasy and kept a close eye on Maris. But I was relieved to see her smiling. She seemed to be beaming with maternal pride as they told their stories.
During the evening, she took her boys, Stephen and Tim, aside. I watched them in the corner of the lounge room. She held their hands firmly and looked them firmly in the eyes.
‘I love you.’
‘We love you, too, Mum.’
‘I’m so proud of you both. You’ve chosen such lovely girls as your partners.’
‘Thank you, Mum,’ they both said.
‘I’ve had a good life rearing my children to be the fine young people you are today.’ She gave each of them a prolonged hug.
Later, I noticed Maris was missing.
‘Where’s Mum?’ I kept saying.
‘Are you worried Mum might do something?’ asked Angela.
‘Yes.’ This was the first time I revealed my deep concern. Angela found her with the grandchildren. Maris adored her four grandchildren. She spent time with them reading and patted Eliza to sleep, which Eliza had never allowed before nor has allowed since. Angela told me she found Maris later sitting quietly in the bedroom, gently rocking herself. ‘Your mother’s going psychotic,’ Maris said.
When it was time to leave there was lots of kisses and hugs from Angela, Guy, Tim and Melissa. I’d had plenty to drink, so Jacinta drove. Maris and I sat in the back holding hands like young lovers. I leaned over and kissed her cheek. She did not respond as she usually did with a reciprocal kiss, but stared remotely ahead, immersed in her inner world.
The street lights flickered across my wife’s pale features. Her cheeks looked so soft and fragile. She was my delicate flower that I wanted to hold carefully and protect from all dangers.
Chapter 3
Saturday 30th was the day of Stephen’s bucks’ party. It was a warm, humid morning, typical of early summer. While Stephen and friends went paint-balling, I was to attend my training course and late in the afternoon Guy, Angela’s husband, and I would join the paint-ballers for dinner.
When I woke Maris was staring at the ceiling. ‘I need to go to hospital,’ she said. My racing heart echoed her pain and my head tried to gauge the depth of her terrible anguish. I felt helpless.
She
