Good Little Liars

by Sarah Clutton

  The door opened behind Marlee and she turned to see Ben coming out of the bedroom in his boxer shorts. His torso was lean and perfectly muscled.

  He smiled at her and her stomach did a little flip. He leaned down into her neck and kissed it. ‘Is that my favourite t-shirt you’re wearing? Anything else under there?’

  Marlee stood, lifting up the bottom of the t-shirt to show her knickers. ‘My dress was far too uncomfortable for reading the papers in. Although…’ she looked down at the magazine, ‘no papers in yet. I had to stoop to a magazine.’ She put her arms around his neck and pulled him into a kiss. His fingers dropped down her back and then inside her knickers as he pulled her close. She could feel his erection pressing against her. He lifted her up, his biceps swelling briefly as he placed her gently on the kitchen bench top. Their heads were at the same height and she wrapped her legs around him. Maybe she didn’t need to leave straight away. Another hour wouldn’t matter. She’d text her cousin to move their coffee to a lunch date. A shot of pure lust ran through her as he dragged his finger down her arm. Marlee looked down at the slogan of his t-shirt that sat perkily across her breasts. When I’m blue Papa Smurf makes me smile!

  ‘Hello, Papa Smurf,’ whispered Marlee. ‘I’m having very blue thoughts right now.’

  ‘That t-shirt clashes with the rest of your outfit. I might need to take it off,’ said Ben, as he lifted it up and put his mouth over her nipple. She leaned back, pulling his head in closer and groaned. He began kissing his way down her stomach.

  The two sharp raps at the door were so quick, that before either of them had a chance to register what they were, there was a sound of a key in the lock and then a loud chime of inharmonious voices as the door swung open. A teenage girl in running gear stood in the centre of the room carrying a cake, aflame with candles. Fortunately, she didn’t look towards the kitchen counter where Marlee had her legs locked around Ben. She dropped them and sat up straight as Ben swung around. Behind the girl, two other women walked in.

  Happy birthday to you

  Happy birthday to you

  Happy…

  The three of them looked across to the kitchen bench in unison, each with a different expression. A grin. A scowl. An open mouth. Ben grabbed at the blanket on the floor to cover the erect tent of his boxer shorts.

  ‘A cake! Umm… great…’ said Ben, wrapping the blanket around his waist like a towel as Marlee slid off the bench.

  ‘Oh my God! Dad!’ The girl put the cake down onto the table with a clatter and crossed her arms fiercely.

  Well, hello, Scarlett, thought Marlee. The girl’s bouncy, dark hair was pulled up into a high pony tail and the look of disgust on her elfin face made her look much younger than her eighteen years.

  ‘Happy birthday, Ben. Morning, Marlee,’ said Clementine. Her face was contorted with suppressed laughter.

  Harriet stared icily at Marlee then walked back out the door.

  Scarlett watched her mother leave. ‘I can’t believe you brought someone back here, Dad. That’s disgusting!’

  ‘Oh, leave it out, Scarlett,’ said Clementine.

  ‘Don’t be such a bitch, Clementine!’ Scarlett’s face was mutinous. They watched as Clementine put a wrapped gift on the table. Then all four of them looked at the flaming cake next to it, now puddled with molten drops of wax from candles that had been alight too long. Clementine leaned over to the cake and blew them out.

  ‘There, I did the honours for you, Ben. Might as well save the icing.’

  ‘I can’t believe you could ruin my birthday surprise so badly, Dad,’ said Scarlett, her eyes shining.

  ‘Oh, Scarlett… honey.’

  Marlee wondered whether she should speak. What was the socially appropriate way to ask for an introduction when you were standing in your knickers? Neither Clementine or Ben seemed to notice that she was still there. She stepped forward slightly, angling to get around Ben in the direction of the bedroom.

  ‘I, um, might just leave you to it.’

  Scarlett recoiled and a look of revulsion flitted across her face.

  ‘Gross! She’s wearing the t-shirt I bought you in New York, Dad!’

  She turned her head, so that her ponytail flipped across her slender back as she opened the door to leave.

  ‘So much for the driving lesson you promised me this morning!’ The door slammed behind her.

  Marlee let out her breath.

  Clementine shrugged her shoulders and ran her fingers through her hair. ‘Anyone want some cake? I don’t think Scarlett baked it, so it’s probably edible.’

  Marlee pulled down hard on the bottom of the t-shirt, hoping that she didn’t look quite as pink as she felt. ‘Umm, no thanks.’ She turned to Ben. ‘Sorry, I didn’t realise it was your birthday.’

  ‘I wouldn’t be too concerned about it, Marlee,’ said Clementine. ‘From where I’m standing, it looks like you got him exactly what he wanted.’ She laughed as she cut herself a huge piece of cream cake and started stuffing it in her mouth. ‘Someone putting the kettle on?’

  Ben and Marlee didn’t move. Clementine finished her mouthful and flopped onto the couch where she started flipping through the pages of the Green magazine. ‘Anything of yours in here, Benzo?’

  Ben ignored her and headed to the bedroom. Marlee followed.

  ‘Well,’ whispered Marlee. ‘That was really awkward.’

  Ben pulled on his jeans with his back to her.

  ‘I’m really sorry about wearing the t-shirt, Ben.’ Marlee wasn’t feeling sorry, but it was something to say to fill the gaping silence.

  ‘You’d better go, Marlee. I shouldn’t have brought you back here. Scarlett shouldn’t have seen us together.’

  Marlee felt a jab of annoyance. ‘She’s an adult, Ben. I seriously—’

  ‘Parenting is hard, Marlee. And it doesn’t end just because she turned eighteen. Scarlett will always be my priority.’

  ‘Always? I’m no expert on kids, but maybe it’s not so bad that she sees you having a life too.’

  ‘You’re right,’ said Ben. He sat down on the bed with a thud after zipping up his jeans. His head dropped into his hands. ‘You’re not an expert. I really need to go and make it up to her. I’ll see you at work on Monday. And if you could just, well, not make it obvious when you leave through the garden.’

  Marlee felt her chest constrict as he walked back out past Clementine to the front door. She called after him angrily. ‘Sure, Ben, I’ll just become invisible. No problem.’

  He looked back at her and held her eyes for a few seconds. Then he shook his head and gently closed the door. Marlee pulled off the t-shirt and threw it on the floor, then pulled on her dress and zipped it up, tight across her belly. In the living area Clementine appeared to be engrossed in the magazine.

  ‘Your sister’s got Ben wrapped round her little finger,’ said Marlee, flopping onto a chair.

  ‘Yup. Don’t worry about it.’

  ‘Right. Sure.’ Marlee stared out the far window into the neighbour’s back garden, her hand sliding back and forth across her belly that protruded very slightly in the tight dress. The autumn leaves were brown and sparse on the trees now. When she turned back Clementine was watching her hand. Marlee snatched it away and felt herself flushing.

  ‘What’s going on between you and Ben?’

  Clementine stared at her now, unflinching.

  ‘Apart from him being such an arse-wipe just then?’

  ‘The other night at the pub, Emma said you’d been feeling off-colour. Are you pregnant?’

  Marlee put her elbows on the table and sunk her head into her hands. ‘Shit.’

  ‘You’re pregnant by Ben?’ Clementine’s eyes were wide.

  ‘Please don’t tell him, Clementine. I wasn’t sure about telling him before and I’m definitely not sure now that I know he’s at Scarlett’s beck and call and doesn’t seem to give a toss about me.’ Marlee looked up at Clementine’s enormous velvet-brown eyes.

 
‘Please, Clem?’

  ‘Holy shit.’ Clementine stared openly then she shook her head like a puppy, as if getting rid of excess water clinging to her coat after a swim. ‘You’d have to be mad to push out a sprog at our age. ‘

  ‘Gee, thanks,’ said Marlee. ‘And I haven’t decided how to tell him yet. So just keep quiet about it.’

  Clementine cut another hunk out of the cake. She pulled the slice out slowly, and cocked her head to look at it, as if the cake was a particularly interesting fossil she’d just unearthed. Then she shoved most of the piece into her mouth.

  ‘Clementine?’ said Marlee.

  Clementine looked up as she chewed. ‘Mum’s the word,’ she mumbled through her mouthful, then she stood up and hooted with laughter. ‘God I’m funny!’ Cake crumbs sprayed across the table and down the front of Marlee’s dress, landing like ants in her cleavage.

  Marlee gave her an icy glare.

  ‘Seriously, Marlee,’ said Clementine tapping the side of her button nose with unrestrained glee, ‘Mum’s the word!’

  Twenty-Two

  Harriet

  ‘Scarlett, get up!’ Harriet stood in the doorway of her daughter’s bedroom, fuming. ‘I told you I’d be back at ten to take you driving! If you want to pass the driving test you’d better be dressed and in the car in five minutes. I don’t have all day.’

  She walked over to the curtains and jerked them wide open. The sun’s rays streamed across the bed and Scarlett screwed up her face and yelled, as if Harriet had thrown cold water on her face.

  ‘Mum!’

  Harriet walked out, leaving the door wide open. Scarlett had been home for two weeks now and she was getting sick of the excuses. Everyone else’s children went out and got their licence at sixteen or seventeen. Ben had pandered too much to Scarlett, driving her everywhere and not insisting she face her fear of getting behind the wheel. Well, Harriet wasn’t having it anymore. If Ben wasn’t going to be around much longer it was time for Scarlett to bloody well grow up and take some responsibility.

  In the car, twenty minutes later, Harriet watched Scarlett carefully adjusting the seat and the mirrors. Satisfied, she sat back. ‘I’ve told Jonathan you’re coming to see him this morning at the school to apologise. I need to drop something off to him, and you need to stop avoiding him. So let’s head that way.’

  ‘Great. That sounds like a riot.’

  Harriet felt her chest tighten. Scarlett turned on the ignition and looked in the reversing camera as she backed out onto the street, a scowl fixed firmly on her face. The school was only ten minutes away, but it was probably all Scarlett was capable of managing without having eaten breakfast. And Harriet needed to be back in chambers by eleven. She’d come home specially to take Scarlett on a driving lesson, since she’d missed out on her lesson with Ben on Sunday, after the birthday cake incident. It wasn’t that Ben hadn’t wanted to take her. Scarlett had just refused to speak to him after seeing that half-dressed woman in his apartment. Harriet hadn’t spoken to him either. The whole incident was tawdry. Humiliating. She had felt like he’d stabbed her through the heart when she’d walked in and seen Marleen Maples dressed in his t-shirt on Sunday morning. She had actually wanted to cry. It was the ending of their marriage, right there in front of her, in technicolour.

  ‘Slow down up here, Scarlett, there are always drivers who fly around this roundabout not expecting traffic from this end.’

  ‘Mum! I know!’

  ‘Don’t snap at me,’ said Harriet. ‘I’m trying to help you.’

  ‘Which entrance to the school should I use?’ Scarlett asked.

  ‘Go to the staff carpark entrance. Jon is in his office for the next hour. I just got a text from him.’

  Scarlett indicated and slowed down, far too early, then turned right and drove up the hill past the sandstone houses and ageing mansions of Sandy Bay, then skirted the city and headed towards Lenah Valley.

  ‘Pedestrian. Stop!’ called Harriet, more sharply than she’d intended. Her head jerked forward as Scarlett stamped on the brakes. The man was still twenty metres ahead of them.

  ‘Mum! I saw him! Stop yelling at me! Dad’s a much better teacher than you,’ said Scarlett as she started inching forward again.

  Harriet’s heart was beating too fast. As they pulled into the school carpark five minutes later, she wondered why she hadn’t just organised for more professional driving lessons. Five had seemed ample at the time. Profligate even. One every day last week, after Scarlett had gotten over her jetlag. Scarlett got out of the car and slammed the door.

  ‘You need to be very contrite please, Scarlett. Jonathan’s had his reputation tarnished, possibly irreparably over this whole gap year fiasco.’

  ‘Thanks, Mum. You’re so supportive. I haven’t come out of it that well either you know. Anyway, it’s such an overreaction by everyone.’ Scarlett flicked her hair away from her face and stalked off ahead of Harriet up the pathway. She opened the door to the old administration building and walked through, leaving it to slam in Harriet’s face.

  In the office, Harriet kissed Jonathan, while Scarlett hung back. He came towards the door and gave her a hug.

  ‘Great to see you home safe, Scarlett, even if it is a bit earlier than planned.’

  ‘Yeah, well…’ Scarlett looked sideways at Harriet.

  My cue, thought Harriet. ‘I just need to make a phone call. I’ll leave you two alone for a few minutes.’ She walked out into the office foyer. The secretary’s desk was deserted. She sat down on the couch and pulled out her phone, checking the ten emails that had arrived since she’d checked an hour ago. She wondered if Scarlett would manage to apologise properly. Harriet couldn’t carry the guilt alone forever. It was Scarlett’s fault and she needed to face the consequences. Even if that did mean a dressing down from her favourite uncle.

  Harriet sent three emails on her phone and then looked up. The office was hung with beautiful artwork, some by talented ex-students and others by collectable Australian artists who now made headlines around the world. An early work of Clementine’s, depicting a Tasmanian forest, invoked a bleakness in Harriet that she couldn’t easily explain. She looked away from it and wondered why Scarlett hadn’t come out. She got up and walked noiselessly towards the office. Jonathan’s door sat slightly ajar. She could hear snippets of conversation. She moved forward and leaned her ear against the door jam.

  ‘Scarlett, we all do really dumb things when we’re young. It’s what you do afterwards that matters. You made a terrible decision. I was angry. But it’s really what you do now that I care about. You need to put it behind you.’

  ‘I would but one of the girls from my year keeps making comments and sending random snapchats about it and now everyone is talking about it, like I’m a druggie or something. It was just a couple of pills.’

  ‘Anyone I know?’ asked Jon.

  ‘Elke Price, in my year. She always hated me.’

  ‘Well, I’ll see if I can have a word. I know her dad socially.’

  ‘Thanks, Jon.’

  ‘I assume you’ve written and apologised to the staff at the school?’

  ‘No.’

  Harriet watched through the crack as Scarlett crossed her arms.

  ‘They were so rude to me. Didn’t even let me say goodbye to my friends.’

  ‘Well, it’s something I suggest you have a think about. What about your parents? They’ve invested a lot in you, Scarlett. And not just money,’ said Jonathan.

  ‘I know. But I don’t feel like apologising to Mum when she’s being such a bitch to me. And Dad’s got a new girlfriend. It’s totally horrible. Everyone’s just pissed off with each other. And Clementine’s making everything worse. I can’t wait ’til she leaves.’

  ‘Scarlett, whatever it might look like, your family have your best interests at heart. Believe me. When I was your age, your mum was the same. An ogre. Always on my back. But you can take control back if you own up to your mistakes.’

  Outsid
e the door, Harriet bristled. An ogre? Well that was rich. Scarlett screws up and Jonathan calls her an ogre? After all these years of looking after him. Looking out for him. After all that she’d done for him.

  The door was pulled open suddenly and Harriet stepped backwards, her face flaming.

  ‘Bye Jon,’ said Scarlett.

  Harriet looked across to the ridiculously beautiful face of her baby brother and raised her eyebrows. He looked sheepish. Good. That was no way to speak about the big sister who had cared for him as if he were her own child.

  ‘You’re wrong you know, Jon,’ said Harriet.

  ‘In what, Hat?’

  ‘I was only ever doing what a parent would do for you. Mum was never there. I was the only one there to love you. Sometimes it had to be tough love.’

  ‘Harriet…’

  ‘I know what happens when things get out of hand, Jon. When children aren’t guided. Terrible things happen.’

  Jonathan’s face fell. ‘Hattie, please. Stop. It’s time to move forward.’

  ‘Well that’s easy for you to say. I’m doing my best, Jon,’ said Harriet sadly, and she was surprised to find a tear brimming in her eye. She turned and walked through the empty reception office, not waiting to see if Scarlett was following.

  ‘Goodbye, Hat.’

  Harriet heard the words through a distant tunnel.

  ‘Mum, wait!’ Scarlett trotted after her. ‘Do you want me to drive?’ Harriet wiped the tear away before Scarlett could see it.

  ‘Not really,’ said Harriet. ‘I have a headache. I’ll drop you home and then keep going. I have a meeting at work.’

  As they headed back into Sandy Bay, Scarlett spoke into the heavy silence.

  ‘I need to get to Jacqui’s place later this arvo. Will you be around after your meeting?’

  ‘Ask Clementine to drop you. I’m not a taxi service.’

  ‘As if she’d do it, Mum. When is she going home anyway – I mean back to Europe?’

  ‘I have no idea,’ said Harriet as she indicated to turn into their street. ‘She’s staying for that winter solstice thing. The festival. So sometime after that I suppose.’