Big Little Lies (34 page)

I
t was like watching movie stars arrive, thought Madeline. There was something about the way Perry and Celeste held themselves, as if they were walking onto a stage; their posture was too good, their faces were camera-ready. They were wearing similar outfits to many of the guests, but it was like Perry and Celeste weren’t in costume; it was as though the
real
Elvis and Audrey had arrived. Every woman wearing a black
Breakfast at Tiffany’s
dress touched a hand to her inferior pearl necklace. Every man in a white Elvis suit sucked in his stomach. The levels of pink fizzy drinks went down, down, down.

“Wow. Celeste looks so beautiful.”

Madeline turned to see Bonnie standing next to her.

Like Tom, Bonnie obviously didn’t do costumes. Her hair was in its normal single plait over one shoulder. No makeup. She looked like a homeless person on a special night out: long-sleeved top of some faded thin fabric falling off one shoulder (all her clothes fell off one shoulder in that irritating way; Madeline longed to grab her and straighten everything up), long shapeless skirt, old leather belt around
her waist, lots of that weird skull-and-bones, crazy gypsy-lady jewelry, if you could call it jewelry.

If Abigail were here, she would look at her mother and her stepmother, and it would be Bonnie whose outfit she would admire, it would be Bonnie she chose to emulate. And that was
fine
, because no teenager wanted to look like her mother, Madeline knew that, but why couldn’t Abigail admire some random, drug-addicted celebrity? Why did it have to be bloody Bonnie?

“How are you, Bonnie?” she said.

She watched Tom and Jane melt away into the crowd. Someone was asking Tom for a soy latte to much hilarity (poor Tom), but Tom didn’t seem bothered; his eyes kept returning to Jane, as Jane’s did to him. Watching their obvious mutual attraction had made Madeline feel as if she were witnessing some beautiful, extraordinary, but everyday event, like the hatching of a newborn chick. But now she was making conversation with her ex-husband’s wife, and although the alcohol was numbing her nicely, she could feel the subterranean rumbling of her PMS.

“Who is looking after Skye?” she said to Bonnie. “I’m sorry!” She tapped her forehead. “We should have offered to have Skye over to our place! Abigail is looking after Chloe and Fred for us. She could have babysat all her siblings at once.”

Bonnie smiled warily. “Skye is with my mother.”

“Abigail could have given them all a tutorial on website design,” said Madeline at the same time.

Bonnie’s smile disappeared. “Madeline, listen, about that—”

“Oh, Skye is with your mother!” continued Madeline. “Lovely! Abigail has a ‘special connection’ with your mother, doesn’t she?”

She was being a bitch. She was a terrible, awful person. She needed to find someone who would let her say all sorts of horrible, bitchy things and not judge her for it or pass them on. Where was
Celeste? Celeste was great for that. She watched Bonnie drain her glass. A Blond Bob came by carrying a tray of more pink drinks. Madeline took two more drinks, for herself and Bonnie.

“When are we starting the trivia competition?” she said to the Blond Bob. “We’re all getting too drunk to concentrate.”

The Blond Bob looked predictably harried. “I know! We’re way off schedule. We’re meant to have finished the canapés by now, but the caterer is stuck in a huge traffic jam on Pirriwee Road.” She blew a lock of blond hair out of her eyes. “And Brett Larson is the MC and he’s stuck in the same traffic jam.”

“Ed will be MC!” said Madeline blithely. “He’s a great MC.” She looked about for Ed and saw him approaching Renata’s husband, all handshakes and backslaps.
Great choice, darling. Are you aware your wife ran into his wife’s car yesterday afternoon, resulting in a public screaming match?
Ed probably thought he was talking to Gareth the golfer, not Geoff the bird-watcher, and was currently asking Geoff if he’d been on the course much lately.

“Thanks anyway, but Brett has all the trivia questions. He’s been working on them for months. He’s got this whole multimedia presentation planned,” said the Blond Bob. “Just bear with us!” She moved off with her tray of drinks.

“These cocktails are going straight to my head,” said Bonnie.

Madeline was only half listening. She was watching Renata nod coolly at Ed and turn quickly to talk to someone else. She remembered suddenly the hot gossip she’d heard yesterday about Renata’s husband being in love with the French nanny. That news had gone straight out of her head when she’d found out about Abigail’s website. Now she felt bad for yelling back when Renata yelled at her for running into her car.

Bonnie swayed a little. “I don’t drink much these days, so I guess I have a very low tolerance—”

“Excuse me, Bonnie,” said Madeline. “I need to go collect my husband. He seems to be in a very animated conversation with an adulterer. I don’t want him picking up any ideas.”

Bonnie swung her head to see who was talking to Ed.

“Don’t worry,” said Madeline. “
Your
husband isn’t the adulterer! Nathan is always monogamous right up until he deserts you with a newborn baby. Oh, but wait, he didn’t desert
you
with a newborn baby. That was just me!”

Bugger niceness. It was overrated. The Madeline of tomorrow was going to regret every word she said tonight, but the Madeline of right now was exhilarated by the removal of all those pesky inhibitions. How wonderful to let the words just come slip-sliding out of her mouth.

“Where is my delightful ex-husband anyway?” said Madeline. “I haven’t seen him yet tonight. I can’t tell you how
great
it is to know that I can go to the school trivia night and know that I’ll run into Nathan.”

Bonnie fiddled with the end of her plait and looked at Madeline with slightly unfocused eyes. “Nathan left you fifteen years ago,” she said. There was something in her voice that Madeline had never heard before. A roughness, as though something had been rubbed off. How interesting!
Yes, please do show me another side of yourself, Bonnie!

“He did a terrible, terrible thing. He will never forgive himself for it,” said Bonnie. “But it might be time
you
thought about forgiving
him
, Madeline. The health benefits of forgiveness are really quite extraordinary.”

Madeline inwardly rolled her eyes. Maybe she outwardly did as well. She’d thought for a minute that she was about to see the real Bonnie, but she was just speaking her normal airy-fairy, no-substance rubbish.

Bonnie looked at her earnestly. “I’ve had personal experience—”

There were sudden squeals of delight from a group of people
behind Bonnie. Someone cried, “I’m so happy for you!” A woman stepped back, causing Bonnie to lurch forward so that her cocktail spilled right down Madeline’s pink dress.

Gabrielle:
It was an accident. Davina was hugging Rowena. She’d just made some sort of announcement. I think she’d reached her goal weight.

Jackie:
Rowena had just announced she’d bought a Thermonix. Or a Vitamix. I wouldn’t know. I have an actual life. So of course Davina hugged her.
Because she’d bought a new kitchen appliance.
I’m not making this stuff up.

Melissa:
No, no, we were talking about the latest nit outbreak, and Rowena asked Davina if she’d checked her own hair, and then someone’s husband pretended he could see something crawling through Davina’s hair. The poor girl went crazy and collided with Bonnie.

Harper:
What? No! Bonnie
threw
her drink at Madeline. I saw it!

T
he trivia night had been going for over an hour now without food or trivia. Jane had a sense of gentle undulating movement, as though she were on a ship. The room was becoming warmer. It had been cold earlier and the heat was on too high. Faces were turning pink. The rain picked up again and pounded on the roof, so people had to raise their voices to be heard over the roar. The room rippled with laughter. A rumor circulated that someone had ordered in pizza. Women begun to pull emergency snacks from handbags.

Jane watched as a large Elvis offered to donate five hundred dollars to the school in return for Samantha’s salt and vinegar chips.

“Sure,” said Samantha, but her husband, Stu, swept the chips out of her hand before the deal could be struck. “Sorry, mate, I need these more than the kids need SMART Boards.”

Ed said to Madeline, “Why don’t you have snacks in your bag? What sort of woman are you?”

“This is a clutch!” Madeline brandished her tiny sequined bag. “Stop that, Bonnie. I’m fine!” She swatted at Bonnie, who was
following her about, dabbing at her dress with a handful of paper towels.

Two Audreys and an Elvis argued loudly and passionately about standardized testing.

“There is no evidence to suggest—”

“They teach to the test! I know for a
fact
they teach to the test!”

Blond Bobs ran this way and that with mobile phones pressed to their ears. “The caterer is just five minutes away!” scolded one when she saw Stu eating his salt and vinegar chips.

“Sorry,” said Stu. He held out the pack. “Want one?”

“Oh, all right.” She took a chip and hurried off.

“Couldn’t organize a root in a brothel.” Stu shook his head sadly.

“Shhhhh,” hissed Samantha.

“Are school trivia nights always this . . .” Tom couldn’t seem to find the right word.

“I don’t know,” said Jane.

Tom smiled at her. She smiled at him. They seemed to be smiling at each other quite a lot tonight, as if they were both in on the same private joke.

Dear God, please don’t let me be imagining this.

“Tom! Where’s my large skim cap, please! Ha ha!” Tom widened his eyes fractionally at Jane as he was swept off into another conversation.

“Jane! I’ve been looking out for you! How are you?” Miss Barnes appeared, totteringly taller than usual in very high heels. She was wearing a giant hat, a pink boa and carrying a parasol. She didn’t look anything like Audrey Hepburn as far as Jane could see. She was enunciating her words very slow-ly and care-ful-ly to make sure nobody knew she was tipsy.

“How are you holding up?” she said, as though Jane were recently bereaved, and for a moment Jane struggled to recall her recent bereavement.

Oh, the petition of course. The whole school thought her child was a bully. That. Whatever.
Tom isn’t gay!

“We’re meeting before school on Monday morning, right?” said Miss Barnes. “I assume it’s about the . . . issue.”

She put air quotes around the word “issue.”

“Yes,” said Jane. “Something I need to tell you. I won’t talk about it now.” She kept seeing Celeste in the distance with her husband, but she hadn’t even gotten to say hello yet.

“I’m dressed as Audrey Hepburn in
My Fair Lady
, by the way,” said Miss Barnes resentfully. She gestured at her outfit. “She made other movies besides
Breakfast at Tiffany’s
, you know.”

“I knew exactly who you were,” said Jane.

“Anyway, this bullying thing has gotten out of control,” said Miss Barnes. She stopped enunciating and let her words flow in a slurred, sloppy rush. “Every
day
I’m getting e-mails from parents concerned about bullying. I think there’s a roster. It’s constant. ‘We need to be sure our children are in a safe environment,’ and then some of them do this passive-aggressive thing: ‘I know you’re under-resourced, Miss Barnes, so do you need more parent helpers? I am available to come in on Wednesday afternoons at one p.m.’ And then if I don’t answer straightaway, ‘Miss Barnes, I have not yet heard back from you regarding my offer,’ and of course they fucking cc Mrs. Lipmann on everything.”

Miss Barnes sucked on the straw of her empty glass. “Sorry for swearing. Kindergarten teachers shouldn’t swear. I never swear in front of the children. Just in case you’re thinking of making an official complaint.”

“You’re off duty,” said Jane. “You can say what you want.” She took a small step back because Miss Barnes’s hat kept banging against Jane’s head as she talked. Where was Tom? There he was, surrounded by a cluster of adoring Audreys.

“Off duty? I’m never off duty. Last year my ex-boyfriend and I
went to Hawaii and we walked into the foyer of the hotel, and I hear this cute little voice saying, ‘Miss Barnes! Miss Barnes!’ and my heart sank like a stone. It was the kid who had just given me the most grief over the whole last term and
he was staying at the same hotel
! And I had to pretend to be happy to see him! And play with him in the fucking pool! The parents lay on their deck chairs, smiling benevolently, as if they were doing me a wonderful favor! My boyfriend and I broke up on the holiday and I blame that kid. Do not tell anyone I said that. Those parents are here tonight. Oh my God, promise me you’ll never tell anyone I said that.”

“I promise,” said Jane. “On my life.”

“Anyway, what was I saying? Oh, yes, the e-mails. But that’s not all. They keep
turning up
!” said Miss Barnes. “The parents! At any time! Renata has taken a leave of absence from work so she can do random checks on Amabella, even though we’ve got the teacher’s aide who does nothing
but
observe Amabella. I mean, fair enough, I never saw what was going on, and I feel bad about that. But it’s not just Renata! I’ll be in the middle of doing some activity with the kids and suddenly I’ll look up and there’s a parent at the door, just
watching
me. It’s creepy. It’s like I’m being stalked.”

“It sounds like harassment to me,” said Jane. “Oops— Just watch. There you go.” She gently pushed Miss Barnes’s hat out of her face. “Do you want another drink? You look like you could use another drink.”

“I’m at Pirriwee Drugstore on the weekend,” said Miss Barnes, “because I’ve got a terrible urinary tract infection—I’m seeing someone new, anyway, sorry, too much information—and I’m standing at the counter, waiting, and all of a sudden Thea Cunningham is standing at my side, and honestly, I didn’t even hear her say hello before she launches into this story of how Violet was so upset after school the other day because Chloe told her that her hair clips didn’t match. Well, they
didn’t
match. I mean, for God’s sake, that’s not bullying!
That’s kids being kids! But oh no, Violet was so wounded by this, and could I please talk to the whole class about speaking nicely to one another, and . . . I’m sorry, I just saw Mrs. Lipmann giving me a death stare. Excuse me. I think I’ll just go splash cold water on my face.”

Miss Barnes turned so fast, her pink boa swung against Jane’s face.

Jane turned around and came face-to-face with Tom again.

“Hold out your hand,” he said. “Quickly.”

She held out her hand and he gave her a handful of pretzels.

“That big scary-looking Elvis over there found a bag of them in the kitchen,” said Tom. He reached to the side of her face and removed something pink from her hair.

“Feather,” he said.

“Thanks,” said Jane. She ate a pretzel.

“Jane.” She felt a cool hand on her arm. It was Celeste.

“Hello, you,” said Jane happily. Celeste looked so beautiful tonight; it was a pleasure simply to lay eyes upon her. Why was Jane always so weird about beautiful people? They couldn’t help their beauty, and they were so lovely to look at, and Tom had just brought her pretzels and blushed a little when he took the feather out of her hair and he wasn’t gay, and these fizzy pink cocktails were glorious, and she loved school trivia nights, they were just so funny and fun.

“Can I talk to you for a minute?” said Celeste.