by Cassie Hamer
Alex slipped the sandal on and returned to find James helping the boys into their trainers.
‘Right, I think we’re ready.’
‘Wait.’ Alex held her hand up. ‘The pastries. You put Bailey in the laundry and I’ll go get them.’
She hurried inside, pausing for a second to admire her immaculate kitchen. House inspections were undoubtedly tedious but they were an incredible motivator when it came to cleaning. The house could not have looked more beautiful, if a little soulless with all their family photos removed from the walls – the ones from the professional shoot where the four of them frolicked naturally on the beach, hugging and holding hands, even though Noah had thrown a major tantrum midway through because Jasper kicked sand in his eye. #blessed. Alex wasn’t too sorry to take down those sham photos. The agents called it ‘de-personalising’ and she supposed it was part of the process of moving on. Already, the house didn’t really look like theirs any more. It was like a showroom. Max was confident it would sell easily, and at a price that would allow them to buy, debt-free, something suitable in a slightly less desirable suburb further away from the city.
Alex went to collect the tray of pastries from the oven and noticed her phone on the bench. Four missed calls and one message. Not surprising. She hadn’t checked it since yesterday. Without a job, she didn’t really need to bother.
Casually, she picked it up and dialled the number for voice messages and waited.
Alexandra. Rex Macauley speaking …
Holy shit. Macauley was ringing her? In surprise, she nearly dropped the phone before juggling the device back to her ear.
I’ve … well, I’ve had a chance to read through that file you gave me, and, well … even though you’ve left us, I’m wondering if you might like to come in and discuss what’s in it … Martin seems to think the place is falling to pieces without you …
His voice had gone quiet and Alex pressed the phone to her ear.
Anyway … he boomed, causing her to jump and nearly drop it again. Please call my assistant to set up the meeting … If you’re interested.
Trembling, Alex hung up, put the phone down and collected the tray of pastries from the bench.
‘Who was that on the phone?’ James was back from the laundry. ‘You look a bit weird.’
‘It was no one, nothing important.’ Alex shrugged. She would think about Rex’s offer later. Would she take it up? Maybe … Maybe not. What mattered was that she’d got them thinking.
‘Okay, fellas, let’s go before this lot goes cold.’
James, Noah and Jasper all peered at the tray.
‘What are they?’ said Jasper, pointing.
‘They’re Lebanese spinach pies,’ said Alex proudly.
James sniffed. ‘They smell good. Where did you get them?’
Alex feigned offence. ‘I’ll have you know that I made these, I didn’t buy them. Beth gave me the recipe.’ When it came to cooking, Alex was still finding her feet, like a dayold foal, but she was starting, slowly, to understand the joy in it, the pleasure in providing sustenance and comfort to loved ones. Not that every dish was a success. She’d had a go at making scones with the boys and they’d had tremendous fun covering each other in flour and kneading the dough. But the end product wasn’t quite right.
Rock cakes, right? James had asked innocently, chewing at the biscuit like it was a piece of ancient mutton. Seemed scones didn’t appreciate over-zealous kneading from six year olds. A light touch, Beth had told her later, and self-raising flour, not plain.
‘I think the spinach pies look absolutely terrific.’ James kissed her forehead and took the tray off her hands. ‘I’m sure you won’t poison anyone.’ He winked and led the way down the garden path, past the large ‘For Sale’ sign. She glanced briefly at the Devines’ – shutters closed, mail piling up in the letterbox, weeds growing out of the driveway – and felt a tinge of regret.
Maybe if they’d left them alone or given them space like Charlie had wanted, maybe … Oh, it was stupid. Last she heard, Charlie had enrolled Talia back in her old school in Brisbane and was planning to let her see Ryan on the weekends. She’d read a couple of snippets in the news, that the business was being wound up. The Tribe Has Spoken was one of the headlines and, reading between the lines, it was apparent there’d been ongoing financial problems in the business well before Ryan started snorting all the profits up his nose.
‘C’mon, boys, let’s go,’ said Alex, extending her hands. First, Noah slipped his fingers into hers, then Jasper followed. Alex squeezed and felt their tiny knuckles under her palm.
‘Mummy, can Bailey sleep in our room tonight?’ Noah looked at her, eyes pleading.
‘Yeah, Mum. Pleeeeease.’ Jasper tugged her arm.
She looked at them both, her heart so full of love for the two little boys who’d reminded her about what really mattered. Wherever they moved to next, this was what they would take with them. Love, and memories. Happiness didn’t exist in fancy ovens and expensive baths. It was in their hearts and hands and their mum and dad.
In two weeks, when the house went up for auction, she’d be taking them to Perth for a holiday, to show them where she grew up and to spend time with the grandparents.
‘Yes, Bailey can sleep in your room tonight.’
Together, the twins whooped with joy.
CHAPTER FORTY-EIGHT
‘Mmmmm, these dumplings are absolutely wonderful. You’ll have to give me the recipe,’ gushed Max’s work colleague Marita. ‘Max is such a lucky man.’
Beth murmured agreement and moved on. Never had she wanted a party to end more than this one. It was excruciating, having everyone congratulate her on the milestone that she and Max had achieved together. Twenty years of wedded bliss!
If only they knew.
They would, soon enough. If she and Max parted ways, the news would spread like wildfire throughout their friendship group. Bad news always did. Whose side would they take? In Beth’s admittedly limited experience of divorce, it was all but impossible for a friend to remain on good terms with both husband and wife. A choice would have to be made, but how? Was it the one you liked more? The one you’d known the longest? Did men go with the men, and women with the women?
Maybe it would be a relief to cut her friendship circle in half. Thanks to Nourish, she didn’t really have time any more for coffee dates and dinner parties and book-covering bees. The business was flying, to the point where she and Cara had started looking around for cheap commercial kitchens to rent. The volume of orders rolling in was too much for a domestic kitchen to handle, which was a lovely, albeit slightly frustrating, problem to have. For the first time in nearly twenty years, Beth had her own money. Not a fortune, but certainly enough to put down a bond for a flat if Max refused to move out. Who knew what he would do? She’d seen very little of him in the past few weeks. If he wasn’t at work, he was either at the gym, or golf, or driving the kids about the place. Bed was now the only place she got to actually see him. Last night, she’d watched him sleeping. His eyebrows fuzzed in all different directions. A smattering of stubble. The gentle wheeze of air in and out his lovely strong nose.
She would miss him. She already missed him.
Beth felt her eyes filling with tears. This was more like a funeral than a party.
‘Mum, what’s wrong?’ Chloe sidled up and slipped a hand through her mother’s arm. She was growing so tall. Nearly up to Beth’s shoulder.
‘Nothing, honey,’ Beth pressed a pinkie into each corner of her eye. ‘These are happy tears. I mean, look …’
The backyard was a twinkling sea of tea lights and candles, and a few larger flaming torches. Max and Ethan had set up a lovely, large white marquee, in case of rain. There was even a dance floor, which Beth had originally insisted upon but now felt was a complete waste of time. She didn’t feel like dancing, and she knew Max wouldn’t. Maybe their guests would get some fun out of it when the DJ started up.
‘Where’s Dad?’ asked C
hloe, as Ethan came to join them.
‘I dunno. I saw him around here a second ago.’ He bumped her shoulder. ‘Great party, Mum. Awesome food.’
‘Thank you, Ethan.’ She pulled both her children in tightly. ‘I just want you to know that, whatever happens, your father and I love you very, very much and you are far and away the two best things to come out of our marriage.’
She clung to Ethan and Chloe, feeling their bones beneath her hands.
‘Mum, you’re freaking me out.’ Chloe pulled away.
‘Yeah, what’s going on?’ said Ethan.
Beth was about to speak but a squeal from the microphone interrupted her.
‘Ah, testing, testing, one, two, three,’ boomed Max’s voice through the audio system.
‘I thought we were doing speeches later.’ Beth checked her watch. ‘After the cake. I haven’t even put the candles on yet. What’s your father doing? Why is he always in such a rush?’ Panic rose in her chest. She wasn’t ready at all. Bloody Max! Never paid attention.
The kids shrugged. ‘Just listen, Mum,’ Ethan urged.
‘On behalf of Beth and myself, I’d like to welcome everyone here tonight.’ He searched the crowd until his eyes landed on her. ‘Now, my wife is probably wondering right now what the hell I’m doing because the speeches aren’t due for another hour and she still has to put the candles on the cake.’ Max paused. ‘But I’ve actually organised a little entertainment for tonight. Beth? Can you come to the dance floor?’
Applause rippled through the guests.
‘Go, Beth!’ came a call from the crowd.
Beth flushed. What was Max up to? Surely he hadn’t organised anything embarrassing, like an exotic male dancer. She’d kill him if he had.
‘Beth, come here.’ He held out his hand. ‘I couldn’t think of what to buy you for our anniversary. I mean, how do you thank the love of your life for being such a brilliant mother, wife and friend for all those years. I could never have asked for better. You have made this house a home. In fact, you are home, to me.’ He kissed her hand and Beth felt her eyes growing hot and itchy. Why did he insist on making it such a charade!
‘But then I did think of a gift. Something I’ve never given you.’ Max turned to her. ‘In the twenty years that we’ve been married, how many times have we danced together?’ He spoke through the microphone.
‘None,’ said Beth quietly.
‘Did you hear that, ladies and gentlemen? My wife and I have danced together approximately zero times.’ He made an O with his fingers.
The crowd jeered.
‘Mostly because I am a terrible dancer. But if any of you know my wife—’ he fixed her with his gaze ‘—truly know my wife, you’ll know that what she loves more than anything else in the world, with the exception of Chloe, Ethan and possibly myself, is dancing. And for twenty years, I’ve deprived her of that joy.’
More booing.
‘But tonight, ladies and gentlemen, I plan to make up for lost time.’
From the corner of her eye, Beth saw a woman dressed in a gorgeous flamenco dress, tiered with layers and layers of red ruffles, quietly speaking with the DJ and moving into position on the dance floor.
‘Ever since Beth started planning tonight’s extravaganza, I have been taking dance lessons under the tutelage of the amazing Serena Fernandez who, if you’re ever in the market for dance lessons, has a terrific studio right near my office. Every lunch hour, every weekend, Serena has worked her backside off to transform these two left feet into a left foot and a right foot.’
Beth swallowed heavily. Dancing lessons? Mentally, she rewound through the text messages, about hot moves and getting down and dirty. Dancing! Of course, it could have all related to dancing. Not doing the horizontal mambo, but the actual mambo.
‘Enough with the plugs, start dancing, ya big mug,’ came a voice from the crowd.
This time Beth laughed for real.
‘All right, all right.’ Max patted the air. ‘First things first.’ He passed the microphone to Serena, and turned to face Beth. ‘Would you do the honours?’ Max undid his top button and motioned for Beth to do the rest.
Behind them, the crowd hooted and Beth imagined her cheeks going the same colour as the dancer’s skirt. With his shirt completely undone, Max took it off and handed it to her. His chest was now completely bare, and Beth couldn’t help but shiver at the frisson between them. He extended his arms and Serena slipped a heavily beaded bolero jacket over them.
Beth clapped her hands. ‘It’s just like the one from Strictly Ballroom!’
Max nodded. ‘Paul Mercurio, eat your heart out,’ he smirked and set off with a flourish to take up position. Serena shepherded Beth into a seat at the edge of the dance floor, then nodded at the DJ and struck a pose.
Through the speakers came the waterfall sound of castanets. With slight uncertainty, Max raised his hands above his head and curved them into an arc while Serena clicked her heels and began twirling her wrists in ever more elaborate circles that unfurled like flower petals.
‘Olé!’ shouted someone in the audience and Max flashed a grin.
As the music picked up tempo, Serena became a swirl of skirts and heels, flicks and kicks, and to Beth’s great shock, Max kept up with her, striding manfully about the dance floor and stopping every so often to stamp his feet, click his fingers and clap his hands.
This was Max?
The dance ended with him dipping Serena to the floor, her back arched and her dark hair grazing the ground, but instead of looking into her eyes, Max locked his gaze on Beth and mouthed ‘I love you’.
The crowd erupted and Beth leapt to her feet to join in the rapturous applause. Serena curtsied with a flourish, then drew Beth towards her husband. ‘Now, the lovers,’ she said in a deeply accented voice, joining Beth’s hand with Max’s before giving further instructions to the DJ.
As Max took his wife in his arms, the strains of ‘Love Is in the Air’ played out across the garden, and soon they were surrounded by all their friends and family, holding each other close and dancing to the old classic.
‘What do you think?’ Max’s brow was furrowed. ‘Did I make a complete fool of myself?
‘No,’ cried Beth. ‘I’m the one who’s been the fool. I thought you were having an affair.’
Max’s eyes rounded in surprise. ‘You what?’
‘All those text messages about hot moves, and how you kept disappearing all the time, I just assumed you were having an affair. I even suspected Charlie Devine of being somehow involved with you.’
Max threw his head back and laughed. ‘Charlie? Oh, Beth, no. You got it all wrong. Charlie was helping me. She knew Serena from her dancing days, and when I told her what I was planning, she put me in touch and gave me an exercise and diet program to follow so that I wouldn’t look like a jelly blubber when I danced.’
‘Oh, goodness, now I really feel awful. That poor woman. I completely misjudged her.’
‘I can’t believe you thought there was something happening between us.’ He shook his head, chuckling.
‘Don’t laugh, it was awful …’ She dropped her gaze. ‘But even before that … I felt like we were growing apart. You were so distant. Even before those messages.’
Max’s expression grew serious. ‘You’re right …’ He nodded. ‘I was feeling … left out. The kids didn’t seem to need us as much, and I could sense that you weren’t quite satisfied at home any more. I just wasn’t sure of my place. How I fit in. But then I realised that, with the kids being more independent, this was our time … To do something just for us. Reconnect.’ He kissed her on the nose. ‘Learning to dance seemed a good way for me to do that.’
‘Thank you … it was. It is … I just wish you’d told me.’
‘Then it wouldn’t have been a surprise.’
‘No … but … I did something really silly and I feel I have to tell you the truth.’ Beth closed her eyes and clenched her teeth. ‘I kissed a twenty-four-year-old elect
rician, to get back at you. Because I thought you were having an affair.’ She opened her eyes. ‘Do you hate me?’
Max’s face was serious. ‘Just a kiss?’
‘Yes. And it didn’t mean anything. I was just so upset and angry with you. Please, I’m so sorry.’
He grinned. ‘Well, that explains why you’ve been acting so strange lately. You were like a different person. More … assertive. Independent. All that work you’re doing with Cara, and those new clothes you bought …’
‘I’ll take them back,’ said Beth. ‘They’re really not me.’
‘Oh, no,’ said Max. ‘You should keep them. I like the new Beth Chandler.’ He kissed her softly on the lips. ‘I meant what I said in the speech. I love you so much. I love our life together and I can’t wait to see what the next twenty years bring us.’
‘I think it’ll be wonderful.’ Beth smiled up at her husband. ‘And hopefully, with no electrical problems.’
CHAPTER FORTY-NINE
Beth’s backyard now had the feel of a party in wind-down mode. Jackets slung across backs of chairs, collars loosened, empty glasses, lipstick long gone from lips.
Cara shifted slightly in her chair and Poppy snuffled.
‘Shh, baby girl. It’s all right. Go back to sleep,’ she murmured, which her daughter promptly did, resting her head into the crook of Cara’s neck. There was now a wet patch where Poppy had drooled, but Cara made no attempt to wipe it away. It was years since her daughter had fallen asleep on her like this and she had no intention of doing anything that would interrupt the overwhelming closeness she felt right now with her little girl, warm and heavy in her arms.
On the dance floor, Max and Beth clung to each other and moved slowly side to side in time with the breezy jazz music that the DJ had switched into. His chin rested comfortably on her forehead and occasionally one of them would withdraw to offer a smile or a comment. Even at this distance, it wasn’t difficult to lip-read the words I love you. Their mouths formed the words much like a kiss.
