Big Little Lies (35 page)

S
hall we go out onto the balcony?” said Celeste to Jane. “Get some air?”

“Sure,” said Jane.

Jane seemed so young and carefree tonight, thought Celeste. Like a teenager. The hall felt claustrophobic and overheated. Beads of sweat rolled down Celeste’s back. One of her shoes was viciously rubbing away the skin at the back of her heel, leaving a nasty, bloody little blister, like she imagined a bedsore to be. This night would never end. She’d be here forever, assaulted by malicious snatches of conversation.

“So I said, that’s unacceptable . . .”

“Completely incompetent, they have a duty of care . . .”

“They’re spoiled brats, they eat nothing but junk food, so . . .”

“I said, if you can’t control your child then . . .”

Celeste had left Perry talking to Ed about golf. Perry was being charming, seducing everyone with his attentive “no one could be
more fascinating than you” gaze, but he was drinking much more than he normally did, and she could see his mood changing direction, almost imperceptibly, like the slow turn of an ocean liner. She could see it in the hardening of his jaw and the glazing of his eyes.

By the time they left for home, the distraught, sobbing man in the car would have vanished. She knew exactly how his thoughts would be twisting and turning, like the roots of an ancient tree. Normally, after a bad “argument” like yesterday, she would be safe for weeks on end, but the discovery of her apartment was a betrayal of Perry. It was disrespectful. It was humiliating. She’d kept a secret from him. By the end of the night, nothing else would matter except her deception. It would be as if it were only that, as if they were a perfectly happily married couple and the wife had done something mystifying and bizarre: She’d set up a secret, elaborate plan to leave him. It
was
mystifying and bizarre. She deserved whatever was going to happen.

There was no one else out on the huge balcony running the length of the hall. It was still raining, and although it was under cover the wind was blowing in a fine mist, making the tiles wet and slippery.

“Maybe this isn’t so nice,” said Celeste.

“No, it’s good,” said Jane. “It was getting so noisy in there. Cheers.”

She clinked glasses with Celeste and they both drank.

“These cocktails are crazy good,” said Jane.

“They’re ridiculous,” agreed Celeste. She was on her third. All her feelings—even her thumping fear—were nicely coated in fluffy cotton wool.

Jane breathed in deeply. “I think the rain is finally stopping. It smells nice. All salty and fresh.” She moved to the balcony edge and put her hand on the wet railing. She looked out at the rainy night. She seemed exhilarated.

It smelled damp and swampy to Celeste.

“I have to tell you something,” said Celeste.

Jane raised her eyebrows. “OK?” She was wearing red lipstick, Celeste noticed. Madeline would be thrilled.

“Just before we left tonight, Josh came and told me that it’s Max who has been bullying Amabella, not Ziggy. I was horrified. I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry.” She looked up and saw Harper coming out onto the balcony, rummaging in her bag. Harper glanced their way and quickly clip-clopped up the other end, out of earshot, where she lit up a cigarette.

“I know,” said Jane.

“You know?” Celeste took a step back and nearly slipped on the tile.

“Ziggy told me yesterday,” said Jane. “Apparently Amabella told him and asked him to keep it a secret. Don’t worry about it. It’s all OK.”

“It’s not OK! You’ve had to put up with that terrible petition, and people like her.” Celeste nodded her head in Harper’s direction. “And poor little
Ziggy
and parents saying their kids couldn’t play with him. I’m going to tell Renata tonight, and Miss Barnes and Mrs. Lipmann. I’m going to tell everyone. I might get up and make a public announcement:
You got the wrong kid.
”

“You don’t have to do that,” said Jane. “It’s fine. It will all get sorted out.”

“I’m just so terribly sorry,” said Celeste again, and her voice shook. She was thinking now of Saxon Banks.

“Hey!” said Jane. She put her hand on Celeste’s arm. “It’s fine. It will all get sorted out. It’s not your fault.”

“No, but in a way it is my fault,” said Celeste.

“It couldn’t possibly be,” said Jane firmly.

“Could we join you?”

The glass door slid open. It was Nathan and Bonnie. Bonnie
looked as she always did, and Nathan was dressed in a less expensive–looking version of Perry’s outfit, except that he’d taken his black wig off and was twirling it about on his fist like a puppet.

Celeste knew she was obliged to dislike Nathan and Bonnie on Madeline’s behalf, but it was difficult at times. They both seemed so harmless and eager to please, and Skye was such a sweet little girl.

Oh, God.

She’d forgotten. Josh said Max had pushed Skye down the stairs
again
. He’d moved on to a new victim. She had to say something.

“I found out tonight that my son Max has been bullying some of the little girls in his class. I think he might have pushed your daughter on the stairs, um, more than once,” she said. She could feel her cheeks burning. “I’m so sorry, I only just—”

“It’s all right,” said Bonnie calmly. “Skye told me about it. We discussed some strategies for what to do if this sort of thing happens again.”

Strategies,
thought Celeste bleakly.
She sounds like Susi, as though Skye were a domestic
violence victim.
She watched Harper stub out her cigarette on the wet balcony railing and then carefully wrap it up in tissue, before hurrying off inside, ostentatiously not looking their way.

“We did actually e-mail Miss Barnes today to tell her about it,” said Nathan earnestly. “I hope you don’t mind, but Skye is painfully shy and has difficulty asserting herself, so we wanted Miss Barnes to keep an eye on things. And of course, it’s up to the teacher to sort these things out. I think that’s the school policy. Let the teachers handle it. We would never have approached you about it.”

“Oh!” said Celeste. “Well, thank you. Again, I’m just so sorry—”

“No need to be sorry! Gosh! They’re kids!” said Nathan. “They’ve got to learn all this stuff. Don’t hit your friends. Stand up for yourself. How to be a grown-up.”

“How to be a grown-up,” repeated Celeste shakily.

“Still learning myself, of course!” said Nathan.

“It’s all part of their emotional and spiritual development,” said Bonnie.

“There’s some book along those lines, isn’t there?” said Jane. “Something like
Everything You Need to Know You Learned in Kindergarten: Don’t Be Mean, Play Nicely, Share Your Toys
.”

“Sharing is caring,” quoted Nathan, and they all laughed at the familiar line.

Detective-Sergeant Adrian Quinlan:
Eight people, including the victim, were on the balcony at the time of the incident. We know who they are. They know who they are and they know what they saw. Telling the truth is the most important thing a witness has to do.

M
adeline was trapped in a passionate conversation with some Year 2 parents about bathroom renovations. She liked the parents very much, and she knew she’d just bored the husband silly while she and the wife had an intense conversation about the most flattering types of wrap dresses, so she owed it to the poor man to keep listening.

The problem was she really had nothing to say about bathroom renovations, and although she agreed it must have been terrible when they ran out of tiles, and that particular line was discontinued, and they only needed
three more tiles
to finish, she was sure it probably all worked out in the end, and she could see Celeste and Jane out on the balcony, and they were laughing with Bonnie and Nathan, which was unacceptable. Celeste and Jane were
her
friends.

She looked about for someone else to take her place and grabbed Samantha. Her husband was a plumber. She must surely have an interest in bathroom renovations. “You’ve got to hear this story!” she said. “Can you imagine? They, um, ran out of tiles!”

“Oh no! That exact same thing happened to me!” said Samantha.

Bingo.
Madeline left Samantha listening intently and eagerly awaiting her turn to tell her own bathroom renovation disaster story. Good Lord. It was a mystery to her how anyone could find that more interesting than wrap dresses.

As she made her way through the crowd, she passed a group of four Blond Bobs huddled together so close, it was obvious they were sharing something scandalous. She paused to listen:

“The French nanny! That funny-looking girl.”

“Didn’t Renata fire her?”

“Yes, because she totally missed the fact that Amabella was being bullied by that Ziggy kid.”

“What’s happening with the petition, by the way?”

“We’re going to submit it to Mrs. Lipmann on Monday.”

“Have you seen the mother tonight? She’s had her hair cut. She’s flitting about like she hasn’t got a care in the world. If
my
kid were a bully, I wouldn’t be out showing my face, that’s for sure. I’d be at home, with my child, giving him the attention he obviously needs.”

“Needs a good smack, is what he needs.”

“I hear she was bringing him to school with nits yesterday.”

“I am just gobsmacked that the school let it go on for as long as it did. In this day and age, when there is so much
information
about bullying—”

“Right, right, but the point is, Renata’s nanny is having an affair with Geoff.”

“Why would she want to have an affair with
Geoff
?”

“I know it for a
fact
.”

Madeline felt enraged on Jane’s behalf, and strangely enough on behalf of Renata too—even though Renata had presumably approved the petition.

“You are awful people,” she said loudly. The Blond Bobs looked up. Their eyes and mouths were little ovals of surprise. “You are awful, awful people.”

She kept walking without waiting to hear their reactions. As she slid back the door to go out onto the balcony, she found Renata behind her.

“Just getting some fresh air,” said Renata. “It’s getting so stuffy in here.”

“Yes,” said Madeline. “And it looks like it’s stopped raining.” They stepped out together into the night air. “I’ve contacted my insurance company, by the way. About the car.”

Renata winced. “I’m sorry I made such a fuss yesterday.”

“Well, I’m sorry for running into you. I was busy yelling at Abigail.”

“I got a fright,” said Renata. “When I get frightened, I lash out. It’s a flaw.” They walked over toward the group near the railing.

“Really?” said Madeline. “How terrible for you. I have a very placid personality myself.”

Renata snorted.

“Maddie!” said Nathan. “Haven’t seen you yet tonight. How are you? I hear my wife spilled her drink all over you.”

He must be a bit drunk too,
thought Madeline. He wouldn’t normally refer to Bonnie as his “wife” in front of her.

“Luckily it was a pink drink, so it matched my dress,” said Madeline.

“I’ve been celebrating the happy ending to our daughter’s little drama,” said Nathan. “Here’s to Larry Fitzgerald of South Dakota, hey?” He lifted his drink.

“Mmmm,” said Madeline. Her eyes were on Celeste. “I have this funny feeling that ‘Larry Fitzgerald’ might actually live closer than we think.”

“Eh?” said Nathan. “What are you talking about?”

“Are you talking about Abigail’s website?” said Celeste. “Did she close it down?”

Her delivery was absolutely perfect, thought Madeline, and that’s what gave it away. Most of the time Celeste looked evasive, as though she had something to hide. Right now she looked completely composed and poised, and her eyes held Madeline’s. When most people lied, they avoided eye contact; when Celeste lied, she held it.

“You’re Larry Fitzgerald of South Dakota, aren’t you?” said Madeline to Celeste. “I knew it! Well, I didn’t know it for sure, but I had a feeling. It was all too convenient.”

“I have absolutely no idea what you’re talking about,” said Celeste evenly.

Nathan turned to Celeste. “You gave one hundred thousand dollars to Amnesty? To help us? My God.”

“You really shouldn’t have,” said Madeline. “You shouldn’t have done that. How can we ever repay you?”

“Goodness,” said Renata. “What is this all about?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” said Celeste to Madeline. “But don’t forget you saved Max’s life, so that’s a debt that really can’t be repaid.”

There were some raised voices from inside the hall.

“I wonder what’s going on?” said Nathan.

“Oh, I might have started some little fires,” said Renata with a tiny smirk. “My husband isn’t the only one who thinks he’s in love with our nanny. Juliette found much to distract her in Pirriwee. What’s the French word for it?
Polyamour.
I found out she had an eye for a certain type of man. Or I should say a certain type of bank account.”

“Renata,” said Celeste. “I found out tonight that—”

“Don’t,” said Jane.

“—my son Max was the one who was hurting Amabella,” said Celeste.

“
Your
son?” said Renata. “But are you sure? Because on orientation day Amabella pointed out Ziggy.”

“I’m quite sure,” said Celeste. “She picked out Ziggy at random because she was frightened of Max.”

“But . . .” Renata couldn’t seem to get her head around it. “You’re sure?”

“I’m quite sure,” said Celeste. “And I’m sorry.”

Renata put a hand to her mouth. “Amabella didn’t want me to invite the twins to her
A
party,” she said. “She made such a fuss about it, and I just ignored her. I thought she was being silly.”

She looked at Jane. Jane looked steadily back. She really did look wonderful tonight, thought Madeline with satisfaction, and she realized that the constant gum-chewing had stopped sometime over the last few weeks without her noticing.

“I owe you a very big apology,” said Renata.

“You do,” said Jane.

“And Ziggy,” said Renata. “I owe you and your son an apology. I am so sorry. I will . . . Well, I don’t know what I’ll do.”

“I accept,” said Jane. She lifted her glass. “I accept your apology.”

The glass door slid open yet again, and Ed and Perry appeared.

“Things are getting a bit out of hand in there,” said Ed. He grabbed some bar stools that had been lined up near the door and brought them over. “Shall we make ourselves comfortable? Hello, Renata. I’m very sorry about my wife’s lead foot on the accelerator yesterday.”

Perry brought some stools over as well.

“Perry,” said Renata. Madeline noticed she wasn’t quite as obsequious toward Perry now that she knew his son had been bullying her daughter. In fact, there was a definite edge to her voice. “Nice to see you in the country.”

“Thanks, Renata. Nice to see you too.”

Nathan held out his hand. “Perry is it? I don’t think we’ve met. I’m Nathan. I understand we’re very much in your debt.”

“Really?” said Perry. “How is that?”

Oh Jesus, Nathan,
thought Madeline.
Shut up. He doesn’t know. I bet he doesn’t know.

“Perry, this is Bonnie,” interrupted Celeste. “And this is Jane. She’s Ziggy’s mother.”

Madeline met Celeste’s eyes. She knew they were both thinking about Perry’s cousin. The secret hung in the air between them like an evil amorphous cloud.

“Pleasure to meet you both.” Perry shook their hands and with courtly gestures offered seats to the women.

“Apparently you and your wife donated one hundred thousand dollars to Amnesty International to help our daughter out of a spot,” gabbled on Nathan. He was twirling his Elvis wig around in his hand, and it suddenly flew off and over the balcony and into the darkness. “Oh shit!” He looked over the balcony. “I’ll lose my deposit at the shop.”

Perry removed his own black Elvis wig. “They do get a bit itchy after a while,” he said. He ruffled his hair with his fingertips so he looked boyishly rumpled and sat himself up on a bar stool, his back to the balcony. He looked very tall up on the bar stool, with the sky clearing behind him, clouds backlit by the moonlight from an emerging full moon, like a magical gold disc. Somehow they’d formed a semicircle around Perry, as though he were their leader.

“What’s this about donating one hundred thousand dollars?” he said. “Is this another one of my wife’s secrets? She’s a surprisingly secretive woman, my wife. Very secretive. Just look at that Mona Lisa expression of hers.”

Madeline looked at Celeste. She was sitting on her bar stool with her long legs crossed, her hands folded in her lap. She was completely still. She looked like she was carved out of stone, a sculpture of a beautiful woman. She’d turned slightly so she was looking away from
Perry. Was she breathing? Was she all right? Madeline felt her heart speed up. Something was falling into place. Pieces of a puzzle forming a picture. Answers to questions she didn’t know she had.

The perfect marriage. The perfect life. Except Celeste was always so flustered. A little fidgety. A little edgy.

“She also seems to think we have unlimited financial resources,” said Perry. “Doesn’t earn a cent herself, but sure knows how to spend it.”

“Hey
now
,” said Renata sharply, as if she were remonstrating a child.

“I think we’ve already met,” said Jane to Perry.

Nobody heard her except for Madeline. Jane had remained standing while everyone else perched up on their bar stools. She looked tiny in the middle of them, like a child addressing Perry. She had to tip back her head. Her eyes were very big.

She cleared her throat and spoke again. “I think we’ve already met.”

Perry glanced at her. “Really? Are you sure?” He inclined his head charmingly. “I’m sorry. I don’t recall.”

“I’m sure,” said Jane. “Except you said your name was Saxon Banks.”