by Paige Toon
‘Would you like me to help you get ready for bed?’ I ask. I’m assuming Liz has gone out.
He shakes his head. ‘I’ll wait for Liz.’
‘Where is she?’ I ask.
‘Outside.’
I frown at him. She’s in the garden? ‘I’ll go and see her.’
‘Don’t argue,’ he begs, gripping my arm with his good left hand.
‘Okay, Dad,’ I reply tenderly, as my conscience pricks.
I smell the smoke of her cigarette as soon as I open the kitchen door, and I can’t help myself.
‘For pity’s sake!’ I exclaim incredulously.
‘Leave it, Amber,’ she warns flatly, inhaling deeply and flicking her ash onto the dahlias.
‘Liz, this is ridiculous—’
‘I said leave it!’ Her eyes flare at me.
‘Shh!’ I shoot a glance at the house. ‘He doesn’t want us to argue.’
‘No, he’s had enough of that to last a lifetime,’ she comments bitterly. When she next draws breath, I notice her hands are shaking. ‘It’s all too much,’ she mutters, her voice wavering as she runs her free hand through her short grey hair.
‘What do you mean?’ I ask worriedly.
‘I can’t quit smoking on top of everything else,’ she says irritably, before glancing at me and raising one eyebrow. ‘You thought I meant the stroke, didn’t you? That what’s happened to Len is all too much?’
I shift on my feet. ‘Well, I—’
‘Sorry to disappoint you, but I’m not going anywhere,’ she states with nonchalance.
It’s relief, not disappointment, that I feel.
‘I don’t want you to leave him,’ I say. ‘Not anymore.’
She lets out a sharp little laugh.
‘It’s not just because I’d be scared about dealing with this on my own,’ I say, ‘although, obviously, that’s part of it,’ I add honestly, when I see her wry expression. ‘But you’re better for each other than I’ve ever wanted to admit.’
She gives me a good long look with her steely blue eyes and then throws her cigarette butt to the floor, stamping on it. ‘It’s only taken you seventeen years to realise,’ she says. ‘But it’s about bloody time that you did.’
I sigh and stare back at her with resignation.
‘Have you been to Ethan’s?’ Her question startles me.
‘I, er, yes. I dropped in to see him.’ I give her a puzzled look. How did she know?
‘You have grape smears on your dress,’ she explains.
I glance down with mild horror to see that I do indeed have little segments of squashed red grapes all over my yellow dress. ‘Jeez, what a mess,’ I mutter, trying to sound casual. ‘Winemaking season,’ I tell her with a shrug.
She gives me a calculating look. ‘I see.’
‘Are you finished out here?’ I turn to go back inside.
‘No, I think I’ll have another one,’ she replies stubbornly, sliding a fag out of her packet.
I huff with frustration. ‘Did you ever quit?’ I demand to know.
‘Sort of.’
‘Did Dad?’
‘Yes.’ She nods and lights up, her face temporarily obscured by smoke.
‘If you keep smoking around him, he’ll probably start up again. You know that smoking doubles—’
‘The risk of stroke, yes.’ She finishes my sentence. ‘Oh Amber. You act like I’m the big bad wolf leading him astray. He’s all grown-up now, you know.’
‘No need to be patronising about it,’ I say in a sulk.
‘It’s true. He’s capable of making his own decisions.’ She narrows her eyes at me. ‘Why do you hate it so much?’
I regard her with astonishment. ‘Surely you remember that Nell’s grandad died of lung cancer.’
She screws up her nose. ‘That’s not the only reason though, surely?’
‘Isn’t it a good enough one?’ I’m getting on my high horse now.
‘No. You’re fanatical about it. There’s got to be another reason why.’
‘Alright, then.’ I ready myself for a rant. ‘You want to know why? It’s simple. I don’t see why anyone in their right mind would be so selfish as to risk cutting their life short, especially when they’d be leaving behind people who care about them.’
She pauses. ‘Is this about your mum?’ she asks.
I flinch.
‘I get it.’ She nods. ‘You’ve always thought I was trying to take your dad away from you. You think I made him start smoking. I didn’t, by the way,’ she clarifies as an afterthought. ‘He already smoked. I can see why you’d want to blame me for what you considered would otherwise have been an entirely selfish act, but the truth is, Amber, there’s nothing deep about this. We used to enjoy a social smoke together. So what? Don’t read more into it than that. It wasn’t about you. It has never been about you.’
Both of us fall silent. Eventually she throws her butt to the ground and grinds it into the flowerbed with her foot.
‘I still think it’s a filthy habit,’ I mutter.
‘And you’re right,’ she says, glancing up at me. ‘I do want to quit, you know. And I will. For now, I’ll just have to keep it outside. Goodness knows, we all need something to take our minds off things at the moment.’
She gives me another look, one that makes me think she can see straight through me. It’s distinctly unsettling.
I almost expect her to ask me outright if I’m sleeping with Ethan, but thankfully she doesn’t. I have a horrid feeling I’d find myself confessing to her if she did.
We walk back into the house together.
Chapter 23
‘Who are you?’
I bend down and stare into the suspicious green eyes of the person who has asked me this question.
‘I’ve already told you my name. It’s Amber,’ I reply brightly.
‘Are you Dad’s girlfriend?’
I laugh in a bright and breezy fashion. ‘No, no, no, we’re just friends.’
‘I remember you,’ the older one, Penelope, says. ‘We came to your wedding.’
‘That’s right, you did!’ I exclaim, looking around for Ethan. Why the hell is he taking so long with those blasted ice creams?
‘Don’t you have a husband anymore? Is that why you’re with Dad?’
Argh! ‘No!’ I cry. ‘We’re just friends!’
I don’t know how this happened. I don’t know how my illicit affair has resulted in me spending the day with my lover and his children. Yet here we are.
It’s Sunday – Ethan’s one and only day off during the winemaking season – and because it’s the only time he gets to spend a full day with his girls, I was invited to join them.
Accepting the invitation may well have been a mistake.
‘Here we go,’ Ethan calls, and I sigh with relief at the sight of him wandering across the playground towards us. It’s a fairly mild day, but I think he’s being optimistic wearing shorts and a T-shirt. Not that I mind being exposed to more of his divine body.
Rachel, his younger daughter at five years old, rushes to intercept him.
‘Hang on a minute,’ he scolds as she jumps up and down, trying to snatch the cone from his hands. ‘If it falls on the ground,’ he warns, ‘you’re not having anoth— Oh, for fffff— God’s sake!’ he erupts as one of the ice creams splats onto the pavement. Rachel bursts into tears.
‘You’re not having another one,’ Penelope tells her indignantly. ‘Dad said.’
‘Penny!’ Ethan snaps, as Rachel’s wails step up a notch. Oh, my ears…
‘She can have mine,’ I say quickly. ‘I don’t need it. Here.’ I gingerly extricate it from Ethan’s hands and Rachel stops crying abruptly.
‘Thank you,’ Ethan breathes, looking drained. ‘You can have mine.’
‘Honestly, it’s fine,’ I insist.
He nods at a park bench so we go to sit down, while Penny and Rachel kick at the wood chips underneath the climbing frame, covering their shiny patent shoes a
nd white socks with brown dust.
‘Rachel asked me if I was your girlfriend,’ I whisper.
‘Christ, did she?’ He flashes me a worried glance. ‘Sorry.’
‘It’s okay. Penelope remembered coming to my wedding. Wanted to know if I still had a husband.’
‘Jesus,’ he mutters. ‘Can you hold this?’ He jumps to his feet and I stare down at his rapidly melting ice cream. ‘Girls, can you stop doing that? Your mum is going to go mental at me if you ruin another pair of shoes.’ His brow is furrowed as he searches the nearby vicinity for the plastic bag Sadie gave him containing baby wipes. Finding it, he sets off with determination towards his daughters.
I haven’t told Ethan about Ned’s decision to leave work, or about the bizarre desire I have for him to cheat on me with Zara. I’d actually quite like to discuss it, but I don’t think the topic would be welcome. Now he seems to have built a picket fence around the subject of my husband, as though any attempt to climb over it could result in being impaled on a nasty spike.
But his sudden yearning for ignorance can’t go on forever.
Eventually he returns to the bench.
‘You’ve been eating my ice cream,’ he murmurs, staring at my mouth.
‘It was melting,’ I reply innocently.
He glances over his shoulder at his girls, then turns back and swiftly runs his tongue along my lips, making me tingle all over.
‘What, am I not worthy of a baby wipe?’ I tease as he withdraws.
He grins at me and I look past him to see Rachel staring at us. His face freezes at my expression and he quickly shifts to sit beside me. Rachel runs our way.
‘Dad, can you push me on the swing?’ she shouts.
‘Sure.’ He sighs and stands up.
I sneakily check my watch. How much longer before we can drop them home?
I wait in the car outside Ethan’s former family home while he returns Penny and Rachel to their mother. He rings the doorbell and the door whooshes open to reveal a large, busty blonde. Must be a friend of Sadie’s, I muse, but there’s something about her expression…
Holy shit, it’s Sadie! But she’s enormous! She looks like she’s put on about four stone since I last saw her. I’m so shocked I forget to pay attention to the exchange between her and Ethan, and then suddenly she’s staring at the car, a deep frown set into her forehead. I sink lower in my seat. The car’s interior lights are off, so I don’t think she can see me, but Rachel is bouncing up and down and then she and Penny both look my way and Penny points. What are they saying?
Sadie ushers the girls inside and says something unpleasant to Ethan, judging by the look on her face, before shutting the door. He turns round and returns to the car, scratching his dark hair in a gesture of irritation. He wrenches the door open and climbs in, slamming it behind him.
‘What did she say?’ I ask.
‘The usual shit,’ he replies darkly.
‘Did the girls mention me?’
‘Yeah.’ He puts the gearstick into position, looking over his shoulder as he reverses a little too fast out of the driveway.
‘Didn’t you tell Sadie I was going to be with you today?’
‘What? No, Amber, I didn’t.’ He sounds frustrated. ‘Now she knows. It’s not a big deal.’
‘She really hates me, doesn’t she?’
‘She doesn’t hate you,’ he scoffs. ‘Can we not talk about her, please?’
I want to ask when she put on all that weight and if he still fancies her, but that would probably not go down too well. For a start, it makes me look like a bitch, but I’m genuinely intrigued. And for the first time, I have to admit that I enjoy the feeling of finally having one over her. I decide to keep that spiteful little fact to myself.
I arrive home at eleven p.m., expecting the house to be dark and silent. All I want to do is take a quick shower before bed, but Liz startles me by coming out of the living room.
‘What are you doing still up?’ I ask, almost accusingly.
‘I’ve been watching telly. Len is in bed.’
‘Oh.’
‘Ned called.’ She scans my appearance. Are my clothes crumpled? Can she tell what I’ve been doing in the back of Ethan’s car? I sincerely hope not.
‘Did he? When?’ I ask casually.
‘A couple of hours ago.’
‘What did you say?’
‘I told him you were spending the day with Ethan, of course.’
She gives me a look as if to say, ‘Why wouldn’t I?’ So I play along.
‘Great. I’ll call him straight back.’
‘Night-night, then.’ She heads into her room.
‘Goodnight,’ I call after her.
With my pulse jumping unpleasantly, I take the phone into the living room and close the door behind me, dialling the home number.
‘Hello?’ Ned answers.
‘It’s me.’ Despite everything I’ve done, I still feel angry at him for deciding to quit his job to go and work with Zara.
‘Hey,’ he replies in a subdued voice. ‘I thought you must’ve gone to bed.’
‘No. What’s up?’
He sighs heavily. ‘I don’t know where to start.’
I sit more upright. ‘What is it?’ I ask uncertainly. Something about his tone has put me on edge.
‘Amber,’ he says reluctantly, ‘Zara made a pass at me last night.’
All that bravado about him leaving me for Zara was clearly just that: bravado. I’m instantly nauseous.
‘I didn’t kiss her back,’ he tells me quickly. ‘No, that’s a lie,’ he corrects himself as I pull my knees up to my chest. ‘I did, but just for a second or two and then I broke away. I’m so sorry.’
He sounds wretched, and I dazedly recognise that he’s confessing this to me of his own accord. It’s what I’ve accused Zara of wanting to do to him, time and time again, and now she’s bloody well done it. And Ned is telling me? Why? He could have got away with it!
‘Say something,’ he begs.
I’m inclined to tell him that he’s married to a slag-slut-whore-bitch.
‘I don’t know what to say,’ I force myself to reply instead.
‘I’m not going to go into business with her,’ he continues. ‘I haven’t handed in my notice yet and I won’t. I’ve told her that I can’t see her anymore, that I don’t want to. Jesus, Amber, I’m so sorry. You were right all along. I swear I didn’t know she fancied me. I couldn’t see it. I thought she just liked me as a friend.’
A few weeks ago I would have felt self-righteous and jubilant and within my rights to drag him over hot coals for allowing this to happen with that husband-stealing bitch-from-hell, but now… Now, I can’t even find the energy to pretend to be as furious and indignant as a blameless wife would be.
‘I want you to come home,’ he says pleadingly. ‘Why do you have to stay another two weeks? Liz said she’s home now for the Easter holidays. She said they can manage without you. You’ve been there for six weeks already.’
‘I don’t want to come home,’ I reply dully. ‘I don’t want to leave yet. I don’t even want to come home in a fortnight.’ I admit out loud what I’ve already been thinking. ‘I have no reason to rush back. I don’t have a job—’
‘You have me!’ he exclaims. ‘It’s not good for us to be apart for this long!’
I scoff. ‘You were more than happy to send me off on my own six weeks ago.’
‘That’s not fair,’ he states. ‘I couldn’t get away at the time.’
‘Ned, you’ve got three weeks of holiday rolled over from last year. You could have taken them.’
‘I had to go to New York.’
‘You wanted to go to New York,’ I correct him.
‘So what if I did? Can you blame me?’ he demands to know.
I sigh heavily. I know I’m in the wrong, taking him to task for choosing his career over coming to Australia to see my sick dad. The truth is, New York was a jolly and I was jealous because he was going with
Zara rather than me. I knew I was set for a hellish trip to Australia on my own, while he was jaunting around the Big Apple, getting pissed and having the time of his life. Of course, none of that excuses my actions up to this point.
But I’m not the only one who’s at fault here.
‘No, I understand why you wanted to go,’ I acquiesce. ‘And you’re right. It’s not good for us to be away from each other for so long. But it’s too late. The truth is, I feel very distant from you, Ned. I barely even feel like we’re married at the moment.’
He’s so quiet that I’m not even sure he’s still there. I’m about to ask if he is when he speaks.
‘It’s been a really tough year.’ The sound of the sympathy in his voice is entirely unwelcome. I know where he’s going with this, but I don’t want to get upset. I don’t want to relive it. ‘It’s been hard for me, too, Amber. You probably think I don’t think about it, that I’m just happy that my job is going well, but you’re wrong. I think about it often, what could have been. We just have to keep trying.’
‘No,’ I interject, my tone taking on a dangerous edge.
‘It will happen for us. We will get there—’
‘No,’ I say again. ‘I’ve changed my mind. I’m not ready after all.’
‘Why?’ he asks. ‘You were ready before.’
‘Well, I’m not ready now,’ I snap, my throat closing up.
I try to channel my anger, but I’m finding it hard to focus. I’m on the verge of breaking down and that’s the last thing I want. My next words come to me in a brainwave. ‘I can’t believe you’re even talking to me about this when you kissed Zara last night! As if we can possibly discuss having a baby when you’ve gone and done that!’
My conscience scowls at me. Obviously I’m the one who’s having an affair… Nevertheless, if there were a less appropriate time to be talking about starting a family, go right ahead and show me.
He sighs heavily. ‘It was a mistake. I’m sorry.’
‘So you bloody well should be!’ God, I am such a bitch. I’m evil… I’m a—
‘NAUGHTY GIRL!’ I quail at the recurring memory of my mother shouting this at me.
You’re right, Mum.
