Renée.
Chapter Twelve
By the time Jack and Cameron reached Balwyn Park on Sunday, it was coming up on four o’clock and the party was in full swing. The party was a tradition, an annual get-together for Cam’s primary school. There were seven food trucks set up in a semicircle around the north and west boundaries of the park, and there were families with picnic blankets and camping chairs spread out in all directions. The playground was full and the bike track that ran around the outside of the park was busy with little kids on scooters.
Jack plastered a smile on his face and looked around for parents he knew. Thank god Elsa would be there. She’d bring food and booze and she’d talk enough for both of them, which suited Jack fine. He was dog tired. He’d had to work until midnight the night before to hit his quota and after that his brain had been too busy for sleep.
Cam was looking around anxiously, trying to find his friends.
‘You’ll find them, Cam. Don’t worry.’ Jack locked their bikes together on the first available rack.
‘There’s Noah!’ said Cam. He raised a hand in an excited wave, and ran off into the crowd. Jack’s phone buzzed in his pocket. He took it out and saw a message from Elsa:
So sorry. Hours behind. Disaster. Won’t make it to park. Sent hockey stick with Celine. She has the girls so you’ll be able to find her. xxx
Jack swore under his breath. He had no idea who Celine was. The hockey stick was for Cam, a gift from a friend of Elsa’s who had older boys and no more use for it. Jack looked around the park. How the hell was he supposed to find the woman in this crowd? Ask some of the other parents? Celine could be another mother, or she could be the new nanny. Elsa went through nannies faster than he went through coffee filters. Which did make Jack wonder. Elsa was a good friend, when she wasn’t cancelling plans at the last minute, but maybe she was a shitty boss.
Jack started to make his way slowly through the crowd. He saw Cam off in the distance, talking with his friends Noah and Tom. Some sort of friendly debate was going on—the conversation was energetic, accompanied by a lot of nods and hand gestures. Tom had a football under one arm. Jack felt himself relax a little. The hockey stick mattered, because he couldn’t afford to buy Cam a new one, but if he didn’t find Celine he could always call over to Elsa’s the next day to pick it up. The important thing was that Cam was having a good time.
The park was rapidly filling up. Jack took it all in. He saw a lot of familiar faces, people he could nod and smile hello to, a few he could maybe sit with for one of those conversations. The kind of conversation you have with people when the only thing you have in common is that your kids go to the same school. Or... he could grab some food from one of the trucks and retreat to the edges with his phone for company.
‘Uncle Jack!’
Jack turned to see a little girl wearing a rainbow tutu, leggings and a pale blue jumper, pink-faced and running his way. She kept running until she slammed into his legs and wrapped her arms around him.
‘Hi, Doris.’
Doris was Elsa’s younger daughter. Four years old, she was equal parts demanding and charming, just like her mum.
‘Hi,’ Doris said, in a muffled voice. Her face was still buried somewhere around his knees. Jack looked around for Doris’s responsible adult—presumably the mysterious Celine.
‘Where’s Lola?’ Lola was Doris’s big sister: seven years old, creative, sweet-natured and sensible.
‘Over there. Reading her book.’ Doris pointed vaguely in the direction of the trees, where three young women were spreading out some picnic blankets. One of them was already walking their way. She was maybe nineteen or twenty years old, blonde and pretty, with a little pointed chin. She wore a pleated denim skirt and a white T-shirt, and had multiple gold studs in each ear.
‘Hello.’ She smiled at Jack.
‘Hi.’
‘Uncle Jack!’ said Doris, by way of introduction. She gazed up at him with embarrassing approval.
‘I’m not really her uncle,’ Jack said. ‘But I’ve been friends with her mum so long that it feels that way.’
‘Celine,’ said the girl. She offered her hand. ‘A pleasure to meet you.’ She spoke with an accent.
‘You’re French?’ he asked.
She nodded. ‘I am the new au pair.’
‘Oh right. Welcome.’
‘Come and play, Uncle Jack.’
Doris pulled on Jack’s hand as he hesitated. The other two women were setting out food on the picnic blanket, and Lola—book in hand—was looking in his direction. There were other children close to the group: a pair of little girls around Doris’s age, playing with dolls, and a little boy who was attempting to climb a tree.
‘Please. You like to join us?’ said Celine.
The women had an elaborate set-up, with the food platters and cushions. Jack felt his stomach growl.
