Tiddas by Anita Heiss Page B

spinning about how different she had turned out compared to her long-time friends. Significant differences she’d never seen or even thought about before had arisen at the Easter breakfast. Differences she wasn’t sure they would overcome. She wondered if their shared history growing up in Mudgee, their commitment to community, their political views and their love of books would be enough to keep them as tight-knit as they were before the dreaded confessions of last weekend.
    Xanthe had always imagined all their kids growing up together – except for Veronica’s, but she’d be having grandkids soon enough anyway – reliving the circle of friendship they’d had as young girls. Tonight, she was heading into the city, having not spoken to any of her tiddas since Saturday, and hoping that at least someone would get around to organising Nadine’s birthday which was fast approaching. It was abnormal to go so long without even a yarn on the phone; she knew it, they knew it too.
    Xanthe had an ulterior motive for attending the Mummy’s Wish Glam It for Charity event at the Vintage Hotel in George Street. Of course she wanted to help raise money and would buy raffle tickets on top of her ticket to the fundraiser. She and Spencer didn’t skimp on charities. But the truth wasshe was hoping she might meet other women like her, women wanting children and still desperately waiting to conceive. She didn’t think of herself as selfish at all; she’d lost all notion of what was logical and fair in her obsession with getting pregnant. But she now felt there was no way she could ask Izzy or Ellen to go to anything like this with her. Nadine was just too high maintenance with her drinking and Veronica seemed to get upset at the slightest thing these days. Xanthe was quite happy to attend this one solo.
    Being in the business of talking to people from all walks of life every day, Xanthe had no trouble mixing with strangers; she didn’t find it difficult in the least to strike up a conversation with someone she had no prior knowledge of. From a distance she spotted a woman who also ran the hills around Paddington and on recognising each other they started talking easily.
    â€˜Great dress,’ the other woman said.
    Xanthe smiled. ‘Sacha Drake, thanks.’ It was something she’d tried on one Sunday and Spencer had surprised her with it the next day. ‘Just because,’ he’d said.
    â€˜And I picked these shoes up at DFO, a sale on the sale on top of another sale,’ the other woman said, impressing Xanthe; the one thing she loved more than anything was a good bargain.
    â€˜That mauve is really your colour . . .’ Xanthe extended her hand.
    â€˜Kylie, thanks.’
    â€˜I’m Xanthe, this is my first Mummy’s Wish event. What a great turnout.’
    â€˜Mine too. A good friend was recently helped enormously by this organisation so I wanted to come along and support them.’ She waved a handful of raffle tickets in the air.
    â€˜I need to get some of those,’ Xanthe said, looking around for a seller.
    Just as Xanthe turned around a staff member suggested the women take their seats downstairs.
    â€˜I’m on table four,’ Xanthe said.
    â€˜So am I. We probably could’ve shared a cab here,’ Kylie laughed.
    â€˜Well, I’m happy to share one home.’ They hadn’t had more than a few minutes together but Xanthe was pleased to have relaxed into conversation with this woman so quickly, given her social life, as with the other tiddas, revolved around each other. Four close friends were better than dozens of acquaintances, she’d always thought, but now and then it was good to mix it up a bit.
    At table four the white tablecloth was littered with little pink foil-covered chocolate hearts and handmade red cardboard hearts. There were brochures and business cards of supporters, and a list of raffle prizes.