The turning point in the life so far of Australian actor and writer Kate Fitzpatrick seems to have been the moment, sometime around the end of 1989, when she saw her unborn baby son on the ultrasound screen. ‘And that’, a friend observed, ‘was the end of the glamour years.’ Fitzpatrick herself defines it rather differently: it was, she says, ‘the moment I realised I was no longer alone.’
Pregnant by accident and for the first time at the age of forty-two, she somehow found herself staying with Germaine Greer in the latter’s Cambridge house. They apparently drove each other berserk for three days before Fitzpatrick turned and fled. On the second night of her stay, she recalls, she had a nightmare ‘about germs’. When she reported this dream to her friend Mike Brearley, ex-captain of the English cricket team and now a psychoanalyst, Brearley replied, ‘I love your subconscious, Kate. It’s like a hot knife through butter.’
...
(read more)
