'Is Nobody going to say it?'

Is Nobody going to say it?

I’m stupid, naïve, gullible, a ‘softie’. I’ve been made to look a fool… and you could go on. I deserve it all. And I guess I was so excited that my manic spending was difficult for anyone to understand.

Firstly, I’d bought the house next door, and secondly, two lots of land in the new suburb just opened up, so that we could build a house next to each other. And there were smaller things too, like dozens of Christmas presents for Gary, Matthew and Suzie, Leonie’s three children and $2000 worth of Tupperware to help get Leonie well-established as a Tupperware distributer. At least the Tupperware has not been wasted. There was enough for my house and, in future, my son’s and my daughter’s houses as well, - and it is supposed to have a lifetime guarantee, isn’t it?

I had thought our new friendship would have a lifetime guarantee too. Leonie and I spent many afternoon tea times together and the five children played happily with each other.

I had met Leonie at the hairdresser. She was cutting my hair and chattering, and our discussion drifted to the schools our children attended. She asked me what I thought of Illawarra Primary School, as her three would be attending it after the holidays. ‘Oh, are you moving?’ I asked.

‘Yes,’ she said, ‘we’ll be staying with my parents until I can afford to rent somewhere close.’

I didn’t question her anymore because her voice seemed sad and choked. Then she started sobbing quietly, and I leant forward to take her hand- with my hair wet and soapy.

She told me her husband had left her, with the three primary age children. ’I’m sorry,’ she said, struggling with a brave smile. ‘I guess it hasn’t been easy living with my parents and having the kids to deal with. They don’t understand why their father left, or why I don’t have a lot of money to spend on them this school holidays.’

‘Come on then,’ I laughed, trying to take the edge off her unhappiness. ‘Better get my hair done before I have to go to work.’

Being a single mum myself, I understood the situation. Her revelation to me had invoked some deep secret longing. Could it be? No, this was impossible. But really, we have things in common, we might be able to be friends. I had kept so much to myself for so many years, and the only people I knew were some of the mothers of other children who played with mine. I had made a great effort to be sociable with them. We would have a casual afternoon tea together while our children had fun playing. Maybe, just Maybe, Leonie could become that ‘close friend’ who had always eluded me. I had a deep need to give of myself to others and to give things in general- specially-chosen personal gifts, birthday presents, a book they had mentioned- but never, until then, a house to live in.

When the couple next door moved to Darwin. I paid a deposit and took out a mortgage on the house. It was a neat, fairly new 4 by 2, and I helped Leonie furnish it. I had only moved into my house six months earlier, after my marriage ended, and we both enjoyed finding furniture bargains online or at garage sales or second hand shops.

One day we took our children to the pine forest for a picnic. The five of them had quickly become friends - her two boys and a girl and my girl and boy. Leonie had packed sandwiches and I had fresh fruit, cordial, and a tray of cheese and salads. The children and I went walking, with them running here and there, finding pine cones and a little bird nest which had fallen from a tree. The pine needles scrunched under our feet and dry twigs snapped crisply. There was the occasional grey-green hardy eucalypt with knobbly branches and a few tiny red flowers which were fluffy like bottle brushes. Around these little islands of native bushes was a lush ground cover with thin green leaves and tiny red pea-like flowers with black eyes, like a smaller version of Sturt’s Desert Pea. There was the occasional dead brown shrub in amongst the pine trees, and another with tiny stick-like leaves radiating out from its branches, and light purple-pink flowers, and one beautiful silver gum on the edge of the pine forest, with one long branch laden with yellow and red flowers and gumnuts.

I soaked up the beauty and sighed with joy. The children were excited and happy, and I supposed Leonie was too. As we walked back through the pine forest a gentle breeze wafted the pine scent towards us. I saw Leonie sitting on the picnic rug, engrossed in a conversation on her phone. We all sat down to lunch, with the children chattering and laughing.

Leonie seemed happy and she opened up a little, talking to me about her years of work as a hairdresser, and her desire to find another job where she could spend time with her children after school and in the holidays. She told me she had signed up as a

Tupperware demonstrator, and the good money and rewards she could earn. Foolishly, or at least that’s how it appears to me now, I offered to hold a Tupperware party at my house and invited about twenty women. As we sat eating crackers and cheese, I looked through the catalogue and wrote down my choices. I was usually a careful shopper, and when I needed storage containers I would visit Woolworths or the Reject Shop and buy their specials. Suddenly, and with a rush of effusive excitement I had ordered $2000 worth of cupboard, storage, party, cooking and food preparation things - all costing about five times my usual purchases would be. Leonie was thrilled and I felt glad I had helped her.

One day, as I was minding her children after school, I say a car pull up at her place and a swarthy Italian gentleman went inside. I didn’t think much about it. Afterwards, Leonie told me her friend Joe had invited us all to his beach house at Mandurah for the long weekend. My own work was flexible, and I looked forward to the weekend away.

We drove separately- Leonie with Gary, Matthew and Suzie, and me with Belle and Colin, and her parents. Joe met us at the beach house, and Leonie and I brought our things in from the car, while Joe and the children went to the beach.

Each morning was the same, the children in the water and the adults watching from under the shade of the verandah. I had not met Leonie’s parents before, and we chattered together about all our plans for the months ahead. I got extremely excited and rambled on, about the two blocks of land I had purchased in the new part of Ballajura.

Mr Frank, her father, became very quiet, and I asked if he was Ok. ‘Oh yes, I’m Ok but don’t get your hopes up about Leonie. She never makes good decisions you know. That’s why Tony left her, and he’s going for custody of the kids too.’

‘Oh, poor Leonie,’ I thought

We were all quiet for a while, then I jumped up and started making lunch. Leonie and Joe were deep in conversation.

When it was time for us to pack up and leave, the two of them had wandered off together. I was sitting in the sunshine with Belle and Colin and I quietly told them to change into their shorts and tops and pack up all their toys.

Suddenly a stern, angry voice shouted fiercely, ‘You kids, pack up your things and get in the car.‘ The children responded quickly, and mine hurried too, to get away from her anger.

Leonie’s parents looked up from their cups of tea, seemingly embarrassed by her fierce manner. They entered the house like scolded children and pulled the sheets off their bed. I was faced with a dilemma. We needed to ieave the house tidy and Leonie was not making any attempt to help as she and Joe stood together in the shade of the house. I quickly pulled off all the sheets and towels and started up the washing machine and grabbed a broom to sweep up the sandy floors. Joe had asked us to leave the house tidy and clean and I thanked him for allowing us to share his beach house, before we got ready to leave.

Leonie kissed him goodbye and waved, as she and her kids left for home. A ‘thank you’ kiss? I supposed. Yes, I was very naïve. ‘Is nobody going to say it.’

At home everything seemed fine, like before. Until the following weekend. The babysitter was minding Colin and Belle while I worked. But when I came home that evening, Leonie’s children were not playing. Her car was not in the garage so I supposed she had gone out. I guess I should have thought something was wrong when Colin came to tell me that Matthew and Gary had left their surfboards outside the garage, along with a pile of toys and three black garbage bags. He told me that Joe had come over in a truck that morning, but they had gone shopping with the babysitter.

I approached the front door of the house cautiously, and found it unlocked. A rush of panic swept through me.

Yes, Leonie had cleaned out the house- furniture, a fridge I had given her, and even the curtains, but she hadn’t cleaned up. She left a terrible mess of rubbish and food from the refrigerator. She still owed me about six weeks’ rent. Here I was, robbed by a heartless predator- robbed of furniture, curtains and rent- and robbed of the friendship I had hoped for.

Yes, I thought again, as tears filled my eyes, and the children hugged me, feeling my sorrow, and worried by my silent acceptance of the hurt…. ‘Is nobody going to say it?’