it was difficult with so much new information demanding her attention. Takeaway food, movies, pocket money, a
puppy
â this was beginning to sound like some sort of competition in which Jake had already had several rolls of the dice. The P blurred into the smooth ivory of the scrabble tile as Mattie stared at it, and suddenly she realised that a competition was
exactly
what it was and, whatâs more, she should have foreseen it. Because she knew Jake, and she knew the way he operated. He was a chess player, quite capable of thinking many moves ahead and planning an approach accordingly And also fond of advocating the methodological skills required for chess as a lucrative way of approaching lifeâs challenges. Attack is the best form of defence.
âMum, your turn,â said Max impatiently.
âJust a second.â Mattie put down three letters to make the word FOOL. Which, she thought, was exactly what sheâd be if she tried to compete with Jake â firstly, because she didnât have enough money to match his largesse, and secondly, because she was always going to be several steps behind, like now, simply because she didnât have the same talent for tactical thinking. Manipulation didnât come easily and even when she tried it, she usually ended up only making things harder for herself. Especially against Jake.
While Max tallied up her score and Courtney started arranging her letters, Mattie closed her eyes and massaged her temples lightly, trying to alleviate her headache. But all she could think of was that if Jake was going to start playing games, she was going to be at a distinct disadvantage. And if the children were going to be used as pawns, she was going to have to guard against being dragged into the competition. The trouble was, she was beginning to suspect that was going to prove next to impossible.
Â
M ax was born exactly two years after they moved into their own house. From the moment she discovered she was pregnant, Mattie read everything she could find about babies. It was like a compulsion, a thirst for knowledge that was rarely satiated. She discovered what to expect during labour, the importance of breastfeeding, the need for pelvic floor exercises. She learnt about jaundice, and nappy-rash, and how the fontanelle, that tiny stretched canvas of vulnerability, would depress if the baby was dehydrated
.
The only thing she didnât discover, because words couldnât describe it, was the feeling she would experience when the baby was placed on her belly. That minute scrap of humanity, with bloody streaks across a wrinkled, marbled body
.
It was contentment like nothing she had ever known. Almost spiritual in its intensity, with a liquid joy that ran through her veins, quickening her pulse and making her nerve-ends tremble. Touching the baby, stroking his damp hair and caressing his rounded belly filled her with awe. She laid a finger across his palm and his impossibly small fingers immediately wrapped themselves around it with a grip that spoke of dependence and responsibility. She smiled at him, delighted, and he gazed wetly up at her as if he, too, was struck by a sense of transcendental wonder. Of recognition
.
After a while, Mattie tore her eyes away from the baby and looked up at Jake, sitting on the side of the bed with his face mirroring the same marvel. Their eyes met and tacitly acknowledged the miracle they had created. Life. An independent human being capable of loving and being loved. A member of a family, part of a team. Their son
.
FIVE
M attie walked the children to school the following morning. It was such a beautiful spring day, cool but with a crisp clarity that was invigorating, it seemed almost criminal to take the car when she was in no rush to go anywhere else. In fact, for the first time in years, the day stretched out before her with barely any demands at all. The Centrelink forms were all signed and the unit was so compact that
puppy
â this was beginning to sound like some sort of competition in which Jake had already had several rolls of the dice. The P blurred into the smooth ivory of the scrabble tile as Mattie stared at it, and suddenly she realised that a competition was
exactly
what it was and, whatâs more, she should have foreseen it. Because she knew Jake, and she knew the way he operated. He was a chess player, quite capable of thinking many moves ahead and planning an approach accordingly And also fond of advocating the methodological skills required for chess as a lucrative way of approaching lifeâs challenges. Attack is the best form of defence.
âMum, your turn,â said Max impatiently.
âJust a second.â Mattie put down three letters to make the word FOOL. Which, she thought, was exactly what sheâd be if she tried to compete with Jake â firstly, because she didnât have enough money to match his largesse, and secondly, because she was always going to be several steps behind, like now, simply because she didnât have the same talent for tactical thinking. Manipulation didnât come easily and even when she tried it, she usually ended up only making things harder for herself. Especially against Jake.
While Max tallied up her score and Courtney started arranging her letters, Mattie closed her eyes and massaged her temples lightly, trying to alleviate her headache. But all she could think of was that if Jake was going to start playing games, she was going to be at a distinct disadvantage. And if the children were going to be used as pawns, she was going to have to guard against being dragged into the competition. The trouble was, she was beginning to suspect that was going to prove next to impossible.
Â
M ax was born exactly two years after they moved into their own house. From the moment she discovered she was pregnant, Mattie read everything she could find about babies. It was like a compulsion, a thirst for knowledge that was rarely satiated. She discovered what to expect during labour, the importance of breastfeeding, the need for pelvic floor exercises. She learnt about jaundice, and nappy-rash, and how the fontanelle, that tiny stretched canvas of vulnerability, would depress if the baby was dehydrated
.
The only thing she didnât discover, because words couldnât describe it, was the feeling she would experience when the baby was placed on her belly. That minute scrap of humanity, with bloody streaks across a wrinkled, marbled body
.
It was contentment like nothing she had ever known. Almost spiritual in its intensity, with a liquid joy that ran through her veins, quickening her pulse and making her nerve-ends tremble. Touching the baby, stroking his damp hair and caressing his rounded belly filled her with awe. She laid a finger across his palm and his impossibly small fingers immediately wrapped themselves around it with a grip that spoke of dependence and responsibility. She smiled at him, delighted, and he gazed wetly up at her as if he, too, was struck by a sense of transcendental wonder. Of recognition
.
After a while, Mattie tore her eyes away from the baby and looked up at Jake, sitting on the side of the bed with his face mirroring the same marvel. Their eyes met and tacitly acknowledged the miracle they had created. Life. An independent human being capable of loving and being loved. A member of a family, part of a team. Their son
.
FIVE
M attie walked the children to school the following morning. It was such a beautiful spring day, cool but with a crisp clarity that was invigorating, it seemed almost criminal to take the car when she was in no rush to go anywhere else. In fact, for the first time in years, the day stretched out before her with barely any demands at all. The Centrelink forms were all signed and the unit was so compact that
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