Big Little Lies(35)

Nathan kissed Madeline on the cheek and shook Ed’s hand enthusiastically. He took an ostentatious relish in the civility of his dealings with his ex-wife and family.
“Nathan,” intoned Ed. He had a particular way of saying Nathan’s name, a deepening and drawling of his voice and an emphasis on the second syllable. It always made Nathan frown slightly, never quite sure if he was being laughed at or not. But today it wasn’t enough to save Madeline’s mood.
“Big day, big day,” said Nathan. “You two are old hands, but this is a first for us! I’m not ashamed to say I got a bit teary when I saw Skye in her school uniform.”
Madeline couldn’t help herself. “Skye is not your first child to start school, Nathan,” she said.
Nathan flushed. She’d broken their unspoken no-hard-feelings rule. But for God’s sake. Only a saint could let that one go. Abigail had been at school for two months before Nathan had noticed. He’d called up in the middle of the day for a chat. “She’s at school,” Madeline had told him. “School?” he’d spluttered. “She’s not old enough for school, is she?”
“Speaking of Abigail, Maddie, are you OK if we swap weekends this week?” said Nathan. “We’re going to see Bonnie’s mother down at Bowral on Saturday, and Abigail hates to miss seeing her.”
Bonnie materialized by his side, smiling beatifically. She was always smiling beatifically. Madeline suspected drugs.
“My mother and Abigail have such a special connection,” she said to Madeline, as if this would be news that Madeline would welcome.
This was the thing: Who would want their daughter having a “special connection” with their ex-husband’s wife’s mother? Only Bonnie could think that you would want to hear that, and yet, you couldn’t complain, could you? You couldn’t even think, Shut up, bitch, because Bonnie was not a bitch. So all Madeline could do was just stand there and nod and take it, while her mood snarled and snapped and strained at the leash.
“Sure,” she said. “No problem.”
“Daddy!” Skye pulled on Nathan’s shirt, and he lifted her up onto his hip while Bonnie gazed tenderly at them both.
“I’m so sorry, Maddie, but I’m just not cut out for this.” That’s what Nathan had said when Abigail was three weeks old, a fretful baby, who, since she’d been home from the hospital, had never slept longer than thirty-two minutes. Madeline had yawned, “Me either.” She didn’t think he meant it literally. An hour later, she’d watched in stunned amazement as he’d packed his clothes into his long red cricket bag and his eyes had rested briefly on the baby, as if she belonged to someone else, and he’d left. She would never ever forgive or forget that cursory glance he gave his beautiful baby daughter. And now that daughter was a teenager, who made her own lunch and caught the bus to high school all on her own and called out over her shoulder as she left, “Don’t forget I’m staying at Dad’s place tonight!”
“Hi, Madeline,” said Jane.
Jane was once again wearing a plain V-necked white T-shirt (did she own no other sort of shirt?), the same blue denim skirt and thongs. Her hair was pulled back in that painfully tight ponytail, and of course she was doing her clandestine gum-chewing. Her simplicity was somehow a relief to Madeline’s mood, as if Jane were what she needed to feel better, in the same way that you longed for plain dry toast after you’d been ill.
“Jane,” she said warmly. “How are you? I see you met my delightful ex-husband here and his family.”
“Ho, ho, ho,” said Nathan, presumably sounding like Santa Claus because he didn’t know how else to respond to the “delightful ex-husband” barb.
Madeline felt Ed’s hand rest on her shoulder, a warning that she was skating too close to the line of incivility.
“I did,” said Jane. Her face gave nothing away. “These are my parents, Di and Bill.”
“Hello! Your grandson is just beautiful.” Madeline shrugged off Ed and shook hands with Jane’s parents, who were somehow lovely, you could just tell by looking at them.
“We actually think Ziggy is my own darling father reincarnated,” sparkled Jane’s mother.
“No we don’t,” said Jane’s dad. He looked at Chloe, who was pulling at Madeline’s dress. “And this must be your little one, eh?”
Chloe handed a pink envelope to Madeline. “Can you keep this, Mummy? It’s an invitation to Amabella’s party. You have to come dressed as something starting with A. I’m going to dress up as a princess.” She ran off.