A Roast on Sunday (18 page)

Chapter twenty one

As soon as Maggie opened her eyes it hit her; tomorrow was Christmas Eve.

Normally the
very thought would send her groaning back under the covers, but not anymore. The ghosts of Christmases past had been banished. There was no need for her to spend the day wallowing under a big black cloud of dark memories.

Yes, Jon had left her and Willow on Christmas Eve. But he’d intended on coming back, that m
uch she was sure of now. And whether or not the marriage would have lasted, he would have been around for his daughter, she was also sure of that.

H
umming the song White Christmas she threw back the covers and after a few stretches, she took an unreasonably long shower using her lemon soap to enhance her new zest for life and the holiday season in general. Even though it was Christmas and a certain degree of excitement was inevitable, she felt it was more than just that brewing inside of her. There was something else in the air. She could sense it and occasionally she nearly caught a glimpse of it but when she turned her head quickly it was gone, dancing out of sight. She felt something she hadn’t felt in years; girlish glee, and she couldn’t wait to see what lay ahead. Not just today or tomorrow, but next week and next month. Everything seemed open and endless, and absolutely anything seemed possible.

It was like the feeling you get when you’re a child
on Christmas Eve and before you get tucked up in your cosy bed you admire the lights twinkling on the tree and the angel beaming down at you from the top, and you know that the next time you see that tree there’s going to be presents stacked underneath it, a lot of them with your name on. Or that goodwill feeling that floods you when you know that you have your family around for you for the foreseeable future; that no one needs to dash off to work or to school. That you’re all together and you have day upon day of summer stretching out ahead with nothing but sunshine and plenty of food and the occasional game of backyard cricket. The feeling you get when life seems effortlessly easy and infinitely enchanting.

That
was the feeling she had. And she couldn’t wait to see her family and feel the warmth that accumulates any time you have people who love each other, all together in the same room.

She left her damp hair loose and
threw on a short summery dress. Her legs, she was pleased to notice, were already lightly tanned from the days spent collecting flowers, leaves and bark for her soaps.

She wasn’t sure exactly what she was expecting when she walked out in to the kitchen, but it certainly wasn’t the silence that greeted her. Puzzled, she checked the cl
ock in case she had woken early. But no, it was a little after eight. Everyone was normally well up by now and the kitchen a hive of activity.

Her mother would normally have been preparing breakfast, or food for Christmas day. Her father should have been parked behind his paper, only his fingers on each side and the top of his head visible.
Willow tended to be seated at the table fidgeting, either eating too fast or complaining that the food was taking too long and that she had places to go and things to do.

But the table was empty and
the kitchen completely void of cooking sounds and smells.

“That’s strange,” Maggie said aloud. She went back out to the bottom of the stairs and
called up, “Willow? Are you up there?”

She waited but there was no answer and not a sound from above.

“Mum? Dad?” she called.

But again
there was no answer. Thinking perhaps they were playing a game she tip toed up the stairs and burst into her daughters room. “Aha!” she said. But the room was empty, and more alarmingly, the bed was made. Now Maggie really started to worry. Her daughter never made her bed without someone nagging her to do it first. She crossed the hall quickly to her parents’ room but it was also empty. Her parents slept in matching single beds which were separated by a space of half a metre. They’d been like that for the last ten years, since Dot declared she’d had enough of being kept awake by Ray’s constant tossing and turning. This way, they were still in the same room but each slept soundly, and if they needed some private time then they just pushed the beds together. Normally Maggie avoided looking in there because she really didn’t need to know when her parents had been,
getting busy
, as Ray termed it.

But everything
seemed normal, nothing was out of place. Her mother’s bed was neatly made and her father’s was a mess of scrunched up sheets and blankets.

She went back downstairs and into the kitchen. She had started to feel a little uneasy, and if this was some kind of game she wanted it over with now. Dishes were drying in the dish rack, so someone had been up and eaten a meal. There was no note on the fridge, where they usually left messages for each other. She picked up the phone and dialled Nick’s house. His mother answered.

“Hi Kate,” Maggie said, “I’m sorry to call so early.”

“Early?” Kate laughed, “It’s nearly noon by farming standards.”

“Oh of course.”

Kate sensed something in Maggie’s voice when she didn’t
join in the laughter.

“Everything
ok Maggie?” she asked. “I mean, apart from the obvious. That was a really nice service you gave yesterday by the way. Really nice.”

“Thanks Kate. Have you seen Willow? Is she with Nick?”

“No I’m sorry, I haven’t seen her today.”

“Can you ask Nick if he’s heard
from her please?”

“Sure, hang on,” Kate
yelled out for him and then Maggie could hear them talking. She came back on the line after a minute. “No Maggie, sorry. He hasn’t seen her since yesterday. Said they made loose plans to catch up later today but nothing concrete. He was going to call her after breakfast. Hang on a sec,” her voice got muffled again. “What? No you idiot, she’s not there, that’s why I asked you if you’d seen her.” She spoke into the receiver again, “Sorry Maggie, Nick wanted to know if he could speak to Willow. Honestly that boy, sometimes I worry he’s too much like his father, bless his simple soul.”

“Thanks Kate. If you see her can you let me know?”

“Of course. I’m sure she’s fine.”

“Oh I’m sure too.
I’d just like to know where she is. Call me overprotective,” she joked feebly.

“I understand completely and
I’ll call you straight away if we see her.”

Maggie hung up the phone and walked to the front door. She could see no one up the driveway, not a soul in sight anywhere. She had to fight a horrible feeling that she was left alone in the world.

“Don’t be silly,” she told herself, “you just spoke to Kate on the phone.”

All the same, she went back to her room to get a cardigan. Suddenly the
summer’s day felt colder. While she was in her room she heard a noise at the back door and with relief she ran out to the kitchen.

“There you are!
You guys had me worried for a minute.”

“Morning sugar,” her dad ki
ssed her on the cheek and threw his newspaper down on the table.

Maggie looked behind him but he
was alone.

“You couldn’t rustle me up some
brekkie could you sweetheart?” he asked, “and a tea if you’re making yourself one.” He found his glasses on the top of the fridge and sat down at the table, shaking out the paper in front of him. He started to read.

Maggie walked to the bench and flicked the switch to boil the jug. “Mum didn’t cook you any?”

“No, they left too early for me. I was still in the land of nod.”

Maggie turned, her eyes narrowed.
“When
who
left early dad?”

He froze
and ignored the question.

“Dad, when
who
left? Where is Willow?”

“Mmm?”

“Dad!” she marched over and smacked the paper
out of his hands down onto the table.

“I knew I’d be the one
left to suffer,” he complained. “That damn woman.”

“Where are they?”

“Your mother took Willow up bush this morning.”

“You’re kidding
me.”

“Nope.”

“She took my baby girl to her stupid cave?” Maggie was furious. “Just the two of them or have the others gone as well?”

“They’ve all gone.”

“This is too much, she’s gone
too
far this time! How dare she take Willow without talking to me about it? And right before Christmas as well?”

“
Whoa settle down. It’s just for one night, and she had her reasons. They’ll be back tomorrow before you know it.”

“I should call the cops on her and have her charged with kidnapping.
”

“Who, Geoffrey?
What’s he going to do, fart on her?” Ray sniggered.

“It’s not funny dad. S
he can’t just take my daughter away without discussing it with me first.”

“Relax
, she’ll -”

“Don’t tell me to relax
!”

“Well don’t scream at me then
!”

‘I’m not screaming. Trust me, when she gets home,
then
you’re going to hear some screaming.”

“Don’t you think you’re overreacting
a little bit?”

“I’m not
overreacting, she’s
my
daughter.”

“
She’ll be fine.”

“How do you know that?”

“Because your mother would lay down her life to protect that kid, and you know it.”

That
shut Maggie up. He was right. Her mother loved Willow as much as she did and would never do anything to harm her. Still, she should never have taken her away without talking to Maggie about it first. Would she have given her permission? No, probably not. Which was the reason, she suspected, for the cloak and dagger departure under the cover of dawn. But why had she chosen to go so close to Christmas? This was a time for families to be together, not spread all over the countryside. She felt some of her earlier excitement desert her.

“I can’t believe this,” she said quieter, her anger subsiding. The jug whistled cheerfully to announce it had finished its job and she reached idly to flick it off, forgetting it did that all on its own. Her father watched her anxiously, unsure as to whether breakfast was still
a possibility.

“She didn’t mean to upset you Maggie, that’s the last thing she’d want to do, especially at Christmas.”

“But that’s the whole point dad; I wanted my family around me. For the first time in a long time I’m enjoying this time of the year and I’m excited about what’s to come. I feel like she’s robbed me of that.”

“She’ll be back before you know it. This is just something that means a lot to your mother. She took
you
there once too, remember?”

“Oh
my god,” Maggie sat down at the table. “I haven’t thought about that night in the longest time.” She must have been about Willow’s age or a bit younger when her mother had taken her. She remembered Dot whispering to her at breakfast to pack a bag with some clothes; that they were going somewhere special and it was a secret. She’d been so excited. Back in those days her mother often took off with her friends for the night, and now Maggie was finally going to see where she went. She had packed a bag and then waited with nervous anticipation until Ray finally left the house and her mother announced it was time.

Dot
made a quick phone call and shortly afterwards Lois, Hazel and Arihana pulled up. While they waited Dot grabbed some steaks from the freezer and some liquor from the cabinet. Lois had owned an open top convertible back then and on any fine day she could be seen around town with the top down. She believed the wind was there to be felt, and what was the point in owning a convertible if you were going to drive with the top closed?

“May as well buy a regular car,” she said to anyone who mentioned it.

“Aren’t you afraid your hair will get ruined?” one lady outside the supermarket had asked, her hand patting her own perfectly coiffured hair. Then she eyed Lois’s long, loose and wild curls and sniffed.

“Ruined? What
– you think the wind is just going to blow my hair right off my head?” Lois had thrown her head back and laughed. “Until you’ve felt the wind through your tresses, my dear, you haven’t lived.” And then she’d driven off with a roar.

The day Maggie got
to ride in the car she’d understood exactly what Lois was talking about. Sitting in the back seat, sandwiched between the bulks of her mother and Hazel, she’d closed her eyes and heard the wind whistling past her ears and she’d imagined herself in all sorts of places. On cliff tops, a yacht in the middle of the ocean and on a rollercoaster, something she’d seen on TV but never experienced. Feeling the wind tug at her hair and drag it out in one long streak behind her she pretended she was on one of those, hurtling down from a great height.