Sweet Damage

by Rebecca James

  I keep forgetting the truth: that it was Lilla who started the whole thing in the first place.

  ‘I wish – shit – I just wish I’d known,’ I say.

  ‘I wish too. So many things,’ she sighs. ‘I wish my parents were still here. I wish Marcus had been more honest. I wish I’d been paying a bit more attention.’

  I push my hands through my hair and kick at a loose stone so that it bounces over the grass and rolls away. I can’t work out what I’m feeling, I’m overwhelmed by such a range of violent emotions. I’m so sad I could cry, so frustrated I could run for hours, so angry I could punch something. ‘She fucked everything didn’t she?’ I say. ‘She’s wrecked your whole bloody life.’

  Anna’s quiet for a long time, and I feel a horrible ache in my chest, a painful fear that she’s going to agree with me. She’s going to tell me there’s no point. No point in anything. No point in us. In me and her.

  ‘I don’t think so, no. I really hope not. I’d hate to give her that satisfaction,’ she says, turning to me. There’s so much sadness in her face. I notice it all the time now. And there’s a definite stillness and wisdom in her eyes that’s unusual for someone her age. I reckon it’ll always be there – that sadness – like the scar on a tree where a big branch has broken off. It’ll heal over a bit, and change shape with time, but it’ll never disappear completely.

  ‘She took a lot,’ she says. ‘She took my baby . . .’ Her voice breaks. ‘But she didn’t take everything. She gave me something too.’

  And just now I notice something in her face that’s temporarily bigger than the sadness.

  ‘She gave you something? What?’

  She turns to look out over the harbour. We’re both silent as we take in the view; the impossible blue of the water and the sky, the Manly ferry approaching in a smooth glide from the city. She takes my hand and links her fingers between mine.

  ‘I’ll let you figure that one out,’ she says.

  OUR NEW FLAT IS SMALL AND POKY, JUST ABOUT AS DIFFERENT TO Fairview as you could possibly get. It only consists of three rooms: a living room, a kitchen and what must be the smallest bathroom I’ve ever seen.

  Anna could afford something much bigger and flasher, of course, but I want to be able to pay my way, and Anna doesn’t scoff, or tell me I’m being stupid. She seems to understand. And for now, at least, this place will do.

  Lilla is in a lot of trouble, the court case is coming up, and the charges are all pretty serious. I worry about Anna, how she’s going to feel when she has to rake through everything again, but she seems surprisingly calm about it. And the truth is that ever since that night she has seemed a whole lot lighter, easier in her skin, as if at least one burden has been lifted.

  Sometimes I think about what Anna said about Lilla that day. How not everything she did was bad. And sometimes I watch Anna when she’s in the kitchen, cooking us a meal from scratch. She’s getting pretty good at cooking these days and she never gets pissed off about the inconvenience or lack of space – our entire preparation area must be less than half a metre long – and I marvel at her determination, at her ability to adapt. And I feel lucky for the way things have turned out. Lucky to be with Anna, living here.

  The best thing about our flat is the big east-facing window. There’s no fancy view, but sometimes, at night, if I’m very very quiet, I can hear the ocean. And in the morning when we wake up and pull the curtains open, the light pours in, a perfect rectangle over the surface of our bed, our own personal blanket of sunshine.

  ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

  I’m enormously grateful to my agent, Jo Unwin, for everything she does (including reading this book a billion times!) but most of all for her encouragement and faith, and for always pushing me to make my work better.

  I cannot thank either Erica Wagner or Sarah Brenan enough for their support throughout the writing of this novel. From the very early stages right until the end they made what can be a tricky process much easier. Their enthusiasm and persistence – particularly during some eleventh hour changes to the plot – gave me the confidence to keep going until I got it right. Our numerous phone calls also kept me smiling.

  Thanks also to Sonja Heijn – whose brilliant last-minute insights made an enormous difference.

  Thank you to Vanessa Lanaway, Susila Baybars, Jen Castles, Gillian Stern, Kirsty Eagar, Hilary Reynolds and Aline Le Guen.

  Thank you to Kirby Armstrong for the gorgeous, amazing cover.

  Thanks to everyone at Allen & Unwin. I’m happy and proud to work with you.

  To my first readers for their advice and encouragement – Wendy James, Emma James, Jenny James, Tony James, Prue Macfarlane and Haidee Hudson – thank you!

  And to the precious people I live with – Hilary, Charlie, Oscar, Jack and Jimmy – thank you for everything.

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  Rebecca James was born in Sydney in 1970.

  She spent her early twenties working as a waitress, her late twenties teaching English in Indonesia and Japan, and most of her thirties having babies and working as a kitchen designer.

  Her first novel, Beautiful Malice, was an international publishing sensation, selling in 52 countries.

  Rebecca now lives in Canberra with her partner and their four sons.