Stella Makes Good (16 page)

‘What’s going on? What do you mean Steve’s been making accusations? I told you not to talk to him.’

Carly took some time to figure out what he was talking about. ‘Brett?’ Her mouth felt dry and she had a throbbing headache. ‘I don’t—’

‘Are you drunk?’

‘No. I—’

Brett sat down on the side of the bed and Carly struggled to sit up and face him. ‘What the hell is going on around here?’ he demanded.

‘Shhh. Keep your voice down,’ Carly pleaded. ‘Steve rang me. He’s a lunatic, he was raving on about all sorts of things.’

‘Like?’

‘Like, I don’t know. Telling me to look in my own backyard before snooping around in his. He’s threatening me because of what Stella and I know about him.’

‘And what is that, exactly?’

Carly hesitated. Her head was swirling. She felt heavy, almost nauseous. Then she started crying. Not huge, racking sobs, but a continuous stream of tears; she could feel them running down her cheeks.

‘Carly? What’s up? Tell me.’

She shook her head. ‘Nothing.’

‘Right. You don’t normally cry over nothing.’

She looked at him. ‘Is that right, Brett? Can you honestly say you know what I cry about?’

‘I know you cry when you’ve had too much to drink.’

She waved him away with her hand.

‘I know you cry over Nicholas, old movies, kittens in pet shops—’

‘Stop it. You don’t know anything.’ She knew she should have stopped there, but she didn’t. ‘You don’t know that Stella and I saw Steve at a sex party—’

‘A what?’ That had shocked him. ‘When?’

‘Last Thursday. You also don’t know that I sat on a guy’s lap and told him I wanted a fuck buddy—’

‘Carly, that’s enough. You really are drunk.’

Carly ignored him. ‘You don’t know the half of it.’

‘Why are you telling me this?’ he asked. ‘Why do you do this to yourself? I saw the empty bottle in the kitchen.’

‘Because I’m lonely.’

‘You don’t have to be lonely. I’m here. Will’s here. Why don’t you come to his basketball games occasionally, or watch TV with us?’

She shook her head. ‘Why would you want me to? I’m old.’

‘You’re not old.’

‘I will be soon, and it frightens the hell out of me—the wrinkles, the grey hair. My body . . . ugh. I’m ugly.’

‘You’re only ugly because you’ve consumed an entire bottle of wine. Stop it. Drink some water, take a couple of Panadol and you’ll be as good as new in the morning.’

Out of the corner of her eye, Carly saw Will hovering at their bedroom door, deliberating whether or not to walk in. He watched for a moment, thought better of it and disappeared down the hallway.

Carly let out a huge sob. ‘What am I going to do with the rest of my life? You have your work, Nick’s left and William will be gone in less than two years. Where does that leave me? Alone and old, that’s where.’

‘So instead of alienating yourself from us, why don’t you join in?’ Brett suggested. ‘It doesn’t have to be all doom and gloom.’

He disappeared into the bathroom and returned with a huge tumbler of water. ‘Drink this.’

She did as she was told, managing to stop crying.

‘Feeling better?’

She nodded.

‘Okay, start at the beginning. Last Thursday night, you, Stella and Jesse went to the pub where you cracked onto a group of guys—’

‘I didn’t crack on—’

‘No? You told a complete stranger you were looking for a fuck buddy. Am I right?’

‘Maybe.’ Carly started tearing up again. ‘I didn’t mean it. I was being stupid.’

Brett rolled his eyes. ‘Understatement. Then what? You went to a party where you saw Steve . . .?’

‘It wasn’t just any party; it was one of those swingers things, a sex party—’

‘Go on.’

‘We were standing there, totally gobsmacked, when we saw Steve—’

‘Where was Jesse?’

‘She’d left the pub ages before. Meanwhile, Steve was sucking on a dummy, wearing a nappy and being dragged about by a dominatrix.’

Brett shook his head. ‘Excuse me?’

‘He was also wearing a studded black dog collar.’

‘Sounds unreal.’

‘It was. We tried to leave, but he saw us. Since then he’s been bombarding me and Stella with text messages and emails, saying that if we tell Jesse—’

‘He’s been threatening you?’ Brett’s voice was ice. ‘Now it’s all starting to make sense. Why didn’t you tell me this before?’

‘I was ashamed.’

Brett put his arms around her and kissed her forehead. ‘Carly . . .’ he was shaking his head, ‘you really know how to get into trouble, don’t you?’

She couldn’t answer. She was suddenly very tired. ‘That’s not the worst of it,’ she said.

Brett sighed. ‘There’s more?’

‘Last night at Stella’s, I told Jesse about Steve.’

‘Carly! What was her reaction?’

‘She ran off, but not before screaming that Stella and I had always hated Steve and now we were making up stories to cause trouble. I should never have blurted it out, even though I wanted her to know. It was wrong.’

Brett stood up. ‘I’ve heard enough for one session. We’ll talk more about this in the morning when you’re feeling better.’ He paused. ‘And, honey, you really should think about taking a break from the wine for a while.’

‘Mmm,’ she mumbled.

‘Stay in bed and get some rest. I’ll sort out dinner for Will. Do you have a busy day tomorrow?’

‘Nup.’

‘Glad to hear it, because I don’t think you’ll be up for much. I’ll bring you up some Panadol.’

‘Don’t need them,’ she replied.

‘You might think you don’t, but trust me, you do. They’ll make you feel better.’

‘Nothing could make me feel better,’ she said sadly.

‘That’s what I don’t understand,’ he said, serious again. ‘I’m really angry with you, Carly. We’ve built a life together and sometimes I think you go out of your way to try to piss it all up against a wall.’

‘It’s not that,’ said Carly, finding some clarity in her voice. ‘It’s just that we’re so . . . comfortable.’

‘And that’s a bad thing?’ He shook his head.

‘I thought it was,’ she said, flopping back down on the bed. ‘We used to be so wild. But now I don’t know any more.’

Carly woke hours later and stared around the pitch blackness of the room until her eyes adjusted. Brett was asleep beside her, and on the bedside table sat two headache tablets and a full glass of water. She swallowed the tablets and turned to Brett, nudging him in the side with her finger.

‘Brett?’ she stage-whispered. ‘Are you asleep?’

He rolled towards her. ‘Not any more.’

‘Do you ever feel the urge to dress up?’

‘Carly!’

‘Do you?’

‘No. Go to sleep.’

‘And group sex doesn’t appeal to you?’

‘Why?’ Brett asked, now fully awake and propped up on his elbow. ‘Does it appeal to you? Is this the kind of wild you think you’ve been missing out on?’

‘No, just asking. Brett?’

‘Yes?’

‘Did I mention the fuck buddy thing to you tonight?’

‘Yes, love. I’m afraid you did.’

‘I’m going to be in big trouble tomorrow, aren’t I?’

‘No,’ he said, kissing her shoulder. ‘I was angry but now I’m just sad. We have a good life together, Carls. You’re not in trouble, but you’re going to be sick and embarrassed.’

‘I want to be a better wife.’

‘I know you do, my love,’ he said, rubbing her arm. ‘But for now, just try being a quiet one.’

gainst a backdrop of a beautifully bright full moon, Jesse held her newborn, marvelling at how perfect she was, how effortlessly her tiny fingers gripped Jesse’s forefinger. She watched, mesmerised, as her baby gurgled contentedly. She was in love, so in love, and so happy. Her life was complete.

Suddenly, the baby was ripped from her arms. Steve was beside her, berating her for wanting another baby. He was adamant. No more kids. ‘I’ll never allow it.’

‘But having another baby would be good for us,’ Jesse pleaded. ‘Maybe it’s the answer to our problems.’

‘And what problems would they be, Jesse?’

‘We hardly see each other any more. A new baby—’

‘You can’t handle another child. You can barely manage the two we’ve got. It’s out of the question. End of discussion.’

‘Maybe you’ll love me again if we have another baby.’

‘I’m not going to take that risk. You need to look after the twins, especially Ollie.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘Do I really need to spell it out for you? What happened to the shrink you were seeing?’

‘That was years ago.’

‘Well, maybe it’s time you went back. And take Ollie with you. He’s heading down the same path as you.’ Steve’s lips weren’t moving but Jesse could still hear his voice berating her. ‘Why would I want another child with you, another retard to deal with?’

‘Is that really what you think of me? Steve? Steve!’

Jesse woke up. It took her a moment to adjust, to realise that she’d been dreaming. Holding the baby in her arms had felt so real, so right. Typical that Steve had come along to ruin it. Retard was such a harsh word.

She glanced at the clock: 3 am. On the other side of the bed, Ollie and Emily slept peacefully. Jesse sighed, rubbed her belly and drifted back to sleep.

‘I wish we could sleep in your bed every night, Mummy,’ said Emmy when she woke on Thursday morning.

Jesse wished so, too. She had been awake for a good fifteen minutes, just staring at them both, aware of their warm little bodies breathing contentedly next to her. She felt at peace, loved and strong when she was with them. Despite what she and Steve had become, they had created two perfect children.

‘Where’s Daddy?’ asked Ollie, rubbing his eyes and sitting up.

‘At work, darling,’ Jesse said, very aware that Steve hadn’t come home last night.

While the kids got ready for school, she showered and thought back to her dream. It had felt so real, she’d felt so connected to the baby. As she dried herself, she looked at her naked form in the mirror, her flat stomach. She thought back to her pregnancy with the twins. She had loved it, right up until the twenty-eighth week when she’d become so heavy and tired she could barely move. Those babies sure knew how to kick. She remembered the sensation as if it were yesterday.

‘You look pretty, Mummy,’ Ollie said when she walked into the kitchen.

That was all the encouragement she needed to guarantee a fantastic day. She didn’t want to think too much about the future, about tomorrow or the day after that. Isness was the business. She needed to live in the now. It was all about keeping her head above water, putting one foot in front of the other and moving forward, no matter how slowly. If she thought about Steve, she started to twitch, so she needed to put him out of her mind, at least while she was at the library. After work, she’d have the children to distract her and dinner to prepare. Maybe they could have another movie night like last night, when they’d watched
Shrek
and eaten popcorn.

I choose to be positive
, she kept repeating over and over . . . Anything to keep her thoughts optimistic and her mind off Steve. As long as her outlook remained upbeat, she could get through this nightmare.

My phone rang. I checked the caller ID: Mike.

‘You’re up bright and early. I haven’t even eaten breakfast,’ I said, trying for nonchalance.

‘Early shift, taking a break. Thinking of you. Thought I’d call. Too keen?’

I smiled. ‘Nah. So what’s up?’

‘What’s up is that I want to see you. I finish at noon. Any chance you could meet up for coffee? Or lunch?’

I hesitated. Yes, I wanted to see him again. But . . . I was sure there were buts; I was just having trouble remembering them.

‘Your silence isn’t encouraging, Stella.’

‘Sorry. It’s just that—’

‘You think too much. Look, I’m not asking you to move in with me. I’m just offering to buy you a caesar salad in your lunch break, okay?’

I took a deep breath. I was getting way ahead of myself. ‘Okay. Sounds great. Where will I meet you?’

‘Cafe 42? Twelve thirty?’

‘Good. See you there.’

I hung up feeling nervous. Excited as well, but nervous. I had a date with Mike! I silently danced a little jig.

I glanced at the time. Arrrgh! Late! I dressed, hurriedly splashed on some make-up and bolted downstairs for breakfast.

‘June,’ I said, noticing her elaborate turban, ‘what have I told you about wrapping your own turbans? Let me help.’

‘I can do it. I’ve been on this earth seventy years—you adapt.’ She paused. ‘If you don’t mind, I’ll stay here for the day. Your garden, dog and cat are looking decidedly neglected. They could do with some attention.’

I hugged her. Great! I wouldn’t be late for work, after all. I glanced at the animals. ‘They’d love the company, and yes, the garden could do with some TLC. Just don’t overdo it.’

I glanced outside. It had started raining. Maybe June wouldn’t need to water the garden or take the dog for a walk. Enforced rest! I liked the sound of that.

June regarded the cat currently making a meal of the dog’s ears. ‘At least they have each other. Better hope they die together.’

I shrugged. ‘You do look rather regal in your crimson turban and silver sequined blouse.’

‘Thank you,’ she beamed. ‘I can still rise to the occasion of dressing myself and applying make-up. It’s just a pity that the chemically laden dishwashing liquid you insist on buying is drying my good hand out and making my nails brittle.’

June! God love her.

‘Mum, who are you meeting up with?’ Hannah asked. She was staring into the open fridge, clearly hoping some new and previously hidden food delight would magically appear.

I took an imaginary step back. ‘Pardon?’

‘On the phone before? You were giggling and acting stupid.’

‘I wasn’t being stupid, Hannah. Anyway, he’s just a friend.’

‘A he?’ said June. ‘One of your doctor friends?’

Sharp as a tack! ‘Yes, as a matter of a fact.’ I couldn’t prevent myself from grinning like a fool.

June’s and Hannah’s faces dropped.

‘My God! You’ve only just thrown Daddy out,’ Hannah squawked, slamming the fridge door shut.

June nodded. ‘Exactly! How are you supposed to win Terry back when you’re cavorting around with other men?’

‘I’m not cavorting, and I didn’t throw your father out, Hannah. He left of his own accord.’

‘Because you pushed him,’ she shrieked.

‘Nonsense. So what’s happening at school today?’ I asked, attempting to change the topic. ‘How’s Sara?’

‘Ugh! Don’t ask! I’m not speaking to her. She stole my look.’

Ben walked into the kitchen. ‘Is this about the feud with Sara Hewson? For God’s sake, Hans, build a friggin’ bridge.’

Now it was Ben’s turn to stand and stare into the open fridge.

‘I didn’t realise you had a look,’ I said to Hannah, watching as she buttered toast on the kitchen bench, getting crumbs and butter everywhere.

Her hair hung untidily over one eye, her uniform was a good ten centimetres too short, and her cherry lip gloss looked a lot like red lipstick. Definitely a school no-no. But she wouldn’t listen to me. I’d have to let her teachers deal with her . . . and then listen to her outraged complaints about the shocking unfairness of school rules. Ben wasn’t looking any tidier. His fringe was too long, his pants barely covered his backside, his white shirt wasn’t tucked in, his tie was skewiff, and his black shoes were scuffed and unlaced.

Hannah glared at me and flicked her hair. ‘The left side part, sweeping over the right eye and ear? Sara totally stole it from me.’

‘Noob!’ shouted Ben. ‘Justin Bieber did that years ago. You’re such a loser.’

And Farrah Fawcett before that, I thought.

‘What is a noob, exactly?’ asked June, sipping her tea.

‘You know, Nanna, a noob, a douche,’ Ben replied.

Hannah started screaming at him, he screamed back, and June, ignoring the teenage hysteria, struck up a conversation about laundry items with the dog. I left them to it and walked out of the house into the pouring rain. People always went a little crazy in wet weather . . . or was it windy weather? No matter. The people I lived with skated close to the mark pretty much all the time.

On the drive to the library, I thought about June’s comment about winning Terry back. I definitely didn’t want him back, but was I ready for him to marry someone else? I was stunned that I could be replaced with such ease and so quickly. Wife number one to wife number two in the space of a couple of months. Not that Terry was keen on the marriage idea, but it was only a matter of time. With a cleavage like that, Amanda would wear him down eventually.

Then I thought about Mike and my stomach started doing backflips. Why was I so resistant to taking things further with him? Despite agreeing to lunch today, I didn’t want to get involved in all that relationship stuff again, at least not so soon. I couldn’t imagine introducing Hannah and Ben to my . . . what? Friend? Boyfriend? Lover? No, the more I thought about it, the more I realised I wasn’t up for anything serious right now. But still, I couldn’t help smiling whenever I thought about Mike, especially when that tingling sensation took over . . .

As I turned into the library car park, my mind returned to more pressing matters. What was I doing thinking about myself when Jesse’s troubles were so much more serious? I’d called her again last night and she’d seemed calm, but she’d only known about Steve’s dalliances for twenty-four hours; surely that wasn’t long enough to process the information fully? I doubted she’d formulated an action plan yet. On the one hand, it was a no-brainer that she should leave Steve. But on the other, her kids were much younger than mine and still at primary school. They’d be confused, devastated . . . And, as I’d already surmised, Steve wouldn’t leave quietly.

During our conversations, Jesse had mentioned a couple of times that she intended applying for the full-time librarian position. I needed to warn her about Liz. Now definitely wasn’t the time for Jesse to badger her about more hours. The problem was, I agreed with Liz that Jesse wasn’t up to working full-time, at least not at the moment. Maybe in a few months, when things had settled with Steve, she’d be in a stronger emotional state to take on greater responsibility and longer hours at the library. But now? I honestly didn’t think so. But I was concerned about having that talk with her, given everything else that was going on in her life.

Liz was hovering by the entrance when I walked into the library.

‘I don’t think it’s going to stop,’ I said, shaking my wet umbrella.

She grimaced. ‘I’m off to a meeting up the road. I’ve left a pile of paperwork for you to go through. And could you make up some signs saying the computers will be turned off fifteen minutes before library closing time? Otherwise, we’ll continue getting idiots like last night who won’t get off even as we’re turning the lights out and rattling our car keys in our hands.’

‘Sure,’ I replied. ‘Have a good time.’

Liz was off and running to her car in the rain, seemingly stepping into every deep puddle along the way.

Even though Jesse had left plenty of time to drop the twins off at school and drive to the library, she was late and she couldn’t understand why. Maybe it was the rain. People always drove erratically in the rain. Then there were the roadworks. One lane was blocked and the others were moving torturously slowly. Even so, she should have been on time. She banged her hands on the steering wheel, willing the traffic to move faster. The last thing she needed was for Liz to catch her coming in late. She didn’t want to provide her with any more ammunition about her work habits. As the traffic crawled along, she got increasingly agitated, so much so that she couldn’t keep her foot still on the brake or the accelerator and the car started kangaroo hopping. It took all of her concentration to coordinate her feet and get the speed right.