The Secret Ingredient

by Dianne Blacklock

  ‘I love it,’ Steph gasped. ‘Dean and I had to make up our anniversary, because, you know, we didn’t really have a first date, we just kind of hooked up at a party. And you know, then we were just kind of together. And I said to him one day, I said, Dean, what’s our anniversary? And he said, why don’t we make it today! And so we did! Ha.’

  Andie smiled. ‘Anyway, I left early this morning before Ross was awake, and I left a note for him to meet me at the shop, but I want to go back to the apartment and set up the surprise.’

  Steph’s eyes lit up. ‘What are you going to do?’

  ‘The less you know about the details the better,’ Andie said with a wink. ‘That way you won’t give anything away.’

  Steph giggled. ‘Okay. Go on.’

  ‘So, just in case, I’m going to drop you around the corner from the shop . . .’

  ‘Uh-huh.’

  ‘. . . and if Ross arrives as you open, and he asks you where I am, you can just tell him that I called and said I was on my way, and that he should wait. That’ll give me time.’

  ‘Got it,’ said Steph. ‘But then what? Won’t he wonder after a while?’

  ‘I’ll call you as soon as the coast is clear, okay?’ said Andie. ‘Then you can tell him that I’m waiting for him back at our apartment.’

  She grinned. ‘This is so exciting! I hope I don’t give it away!’

  ‘Just stick to the script. You don’t know anything else. You haven’t seen me this morning, okay?’

  ‘Okay.’ Steph frowned. ‘But what if he’s not at the shop? You might show up at your place while he’s still there.’

  That was a good thought.

  ‘I know,’ said Steph. ‘I’ll call you, either way . . . No, wait, I’ll text you if he’s at the shop. That way he won’t know.’

  ‘Excellent. And remember, don’t act as if you expected him to be there.’

  ‘But you said I should tell him you called me and asked for him to wait.’

  Thank God someone was thinking straight.

  ‘Okay, so don’t say that. Just say I called you to open the shop, and that I said I was on my way.’

  ‘That’ll work,’ Steph grinned.

  After Andie dropped Steph off around the corner, she headed for Potts Point. If Ross had decided just to wait for her at home, this was not going to work, whatever Steph said. But he had to leave the apartment some time, and when he did, Andie was going to get in and grab as much of her stuff as she could in one hit. She was pretty confident he would try the shop, though. Ross would want to spin the story as soon as possible. And he would count on her showing up at the shop eventually.

  As she drove into their street, Andie felt sick in the stomach. The whole thing began to replay in her head again, however much she tried to blot it out. As she glanced at the entrance to their building she panicked. What if he drove out of the garage now? Her heart was racing as she accelerated past the driveway. But he could pull out behind her, right this minute, and there wasn’t a thing she could do about it. She drove on, one eye on the rearview mirror. She turned out of the street again and drove around the block. Their building was surrounded by a circuit of one-way streets, so this time Andie pulled up short, around the corner from the entrance. Ross couldn’t pass her without driving the wrong way up a one-way street, and there was no reason for him to do that. Andie would have to just sit here and wait for the message from Steph. She tapped her fingers on the steering wheel, her stomach churning. It occurred to her that life as she knew it was over. Nothing would ever be the same again. Ross had cheated on her, in her bed, with some tramp.

  But ten years ago, that was her. And she wasn’t a tramp, was she? She’d never slept with him in their family home, and certainly not in their bed. She’d never even been inside his house. Ross took her past one time when it was up for sale, on an inspection day. He asked her if she wanted to go in, and she said no way. It felt disrespectful somehow.

  Why would he do it, why would he sleep with this woman in their apartment? Didn’t he have any sense of how vastly inappropriate that was? Or did it give him some kind of perverse thrill? Like an animal, marking his territory. Then it occurred to Andie, perhaps the woman had been marking hers. Well, she could have it. Andie could never sleep in that bed again, she could never live in that apartment again. She didn’t care what excuses Ross came up with . . . she could imagine them now – it was a one-off, it’s never happened before. The truth was, he had cheated before, Andie knew that better than anyone. Because he’d cheated with her. It was in his DNA. Toby, Jess, they’d always had their suspicions . . . turns out they had been right all along.

  Jess. Andie was going to have to tell her. And she wanted to tell her. Regardless of the inevitable ‘I told you so’s’, Andie was desperate to talk to her because she knew that, no matter what, Jess would be on her side. She would say Ross was a prick, and that Andie hadn’t done anything to deserve this. Andie really needed to hear that. She also needed a place to stay, at least temporarily. She hoped Jess wasn’t working tonight.

  Her phone beeped to signal a text message. She picked it up.

  Elvis has entered the building.

  Steph was right into this whole covert thing. Andie started up the car. She had time.

  She drove into the garage and parked, slipping her phone into her pocket. She wanted it on her at all times in case Steph sent any warning messages. She hurried up the stairs to their apartment, opened the door and closed it quickly behind her. She paused there for a moment, as a feeling of dread came over her. What if the woman was still here? Surely not? But there was a chance . . . Her heart was pounding as she crept across to the bedroom. She thought about last night, about the vision that had confronted her, and it turned her stomach. She pushed back the door. The room was empty, the bed immaculate, as if no one had ever slept on it. Not good enough, Ross. He would have to burn the bedding to remove all trace, and even that wasn’t good enough.

  Andie threw back the sliding doors of the wardrobe and dragged her largest suitcase down from the top shelf. She dashed around the room, emptying entire drawers of underwear and T-shirts, throwing shoes in haphazardly. She found her smaller overnight bag and took it into the bathroom. Andie felt a sick sensation. This was her bathroom, one of her most private places. Had the woman used the shower, the sink . . . Andie stared at herself in the mirror, imagining the woman fixing her hair, reapplying lipstick . . . She felt violated. She couldn’t stay in here any longer. She swept all her perfumes and lotions and flotsam into the bag. Then she emptied the drawers – cosmetics and more flotsam clattered in. She’d probably end up tossing a lot of it. She had too much of the gunk anyway, and what good had it done her? All the creams and lotions and age-defying potions in the world would not make Andie twenty again. And Ross clearly had a penchant for twentysomethings. Andie glanced around for anything she had missed. She plucked her toothbrush out of the glass it shared with Ross’s and tossed it in the bag. Thinking about it, she’d have to throw it out and buy herself a new one. She certainly wasn’t going to use it again.

  She went back into the bedroom and scooped up an armful of clothes on their hangers, lurching them over into the open suitcase. Then she squashed everything down and zipped the lid closed, just. She slid the suitcase off the bed onto its wheels and pulled out the handle. Thank God for wheelie bags.

  Andie cast a final gaze around the room, spotting her phone charger, a book on her bedside table, another bloody tub of overpriced goop – hand cream this time – and tossed it all into the overnight bag. Out in the living room she ranged around, picking up random things . . . a favourite mug, a little crystal unicorn Donna had given her, a photo of her and Brendan together as children. She glanced at the remote control and momentarily considered stealing it out of spite, but that was petty. And this was so far past petty. She paused at a framed photo of their wedding. She didn’t even look like a bride; she had heard her mother’s voice in her head telling her she had no business w
earing white, so she’d chosen a simple pale blue dress with a jacket. No bouquet either, she would have felt self-conscious. But they did look happy. Despite the pain and angst they had been through, that they had put everyone through, they had convinced themselves that theirs was a true, once-in-a-lifetime love, that they had a right to be together, and to get on with their lives. Ross had vowed to make it up to his kids over time, and he promised Andie he would do the right thing by Joanna financially. But, he had said, it was their time now.

  And now he was probably spinning the same yarn to this woman. All those niggles she’d had about him rejoining the gym, giving up alcohol, going off sex – though, as it turned out, only with her – she hadn’t been paranoid after all. It must have been going on for months, perhaps longer. How would Andie ever be able to trust him again? Ross didn’t end his first marriage because he’d found true, once-in-a-lifetime love. He was a serial monogamist, and he had moved on to his next conquest. Andie turned the frame face down, and slid her phone out of her pocket.

  Pls tell Ross I’m waiting for him at home, she texted to Steph. She picked up her handbag and the overnight bag, grasped the handle of the wheelie suitcase, and walked out of the apartment.

  Newtown

  ‘You’re not going to be able to avoid him forever,’ said Jess, pouring Andie another glass of wine.

  ‘I know that,’ she said. ‘I just need some time.’

  Her phone hadn’t stopped ringing earlier in the day. Andie worked out it must have started around the time Ross would have made it back to the apartment and realised most of her stuff was gone. She had decided not to go to the shop at all – after the story she’d fed Steph that wasn’t really an option anyway. So Andie instinctively headed north over the bridge to her dad’s. She was calmer now, she had no intention of telling him what had happened, and she hoped he wouldn’t guess anything was up, she didn’t want to upset him. He’d find out eventually, but for now Andie wanted to keep a lid on it. She needed more time to get her act together, she still felt so mortified. The marriage everyone expected to be a failure had finally fulfilled all expectations.

  Andie had to make some calls first, so she stopped off at a café on the way. Although she couldn’t recall the last time she’d put food in her mouth, she still wasn’t hungry, so she just ordered one coffee after another, until she began to feel wired and vaguely nauseous, so she had to stop. She managed to get on to Donna, who had just arrived at the shop after dropping Max off at Toby’s mother’s.

  ‘Thanks so much for this, Donna. I owe you.’

  ‘Oh, you do not,’ she’d insisted. ‘So is everything okay?’

  She couldn’t answer that. And she realised that Steph would give Donna her version of the events anyway. Andie might as well leave it at that for now, she didn’t have the energy for any more intrigue.

  ‘Look, I can’t really talk now, Donna, I just wanted to check who’s on the roster for this afternoon.’

  ‘Okay, just a sec,’ she said, obviously going to look. ‘It’s Jess.’

  Good. ‘So you’ll be right for today?’

  ‘Absolutely, don’t worry about a thing here.’

  She wasn’t, the shop was the last thing Andie was worried about. She left the café and stopped at a supermarket to pick up a few things for her father, she never went empty-handed.

  She drove around to the house . . . today it would be her refuge, but it hadn’t always been that. It had been a place of rules and order and tough love – her mother ran a tight ship. Andie and Brendan had planned their emancipation; once he’d settled into uni, they were going to start their own share-house with Toby, and maybe someone else, depending on what they found to rent. After their neat and tidy childhood, Brendan was desperate to find somewhere as grungy as possible – he dreamed of a crumbling, dank terrace in a back lane in Chippendale. Andie was hoping she could talk him up from that, just a little.

  She walked up the front path now, through the unkempt garden. It must annoy the neighbours, they were a very houseproud lot around here. Her father used to be houseproud too . . . well, her mother was, and her father did as she told him, keeping the lawn tended while she saw to the plants. Andie was never sure if her mother actually enjoyed gardening, it was just another necessary chore, part of keeping up appearances, which was very important here on the leafy north shore. When she was too sick to go outside she had berated Andie for not planting annuals at the right time, even though she would not be around long enough to see them bloom. It didn’t matter, the neighbours would see them.

  Andie gave a cursory knock on the front door before letting herself in as usual, announcing herself as she did. There was no answer, and the TV wasn’t going either. She walked through the house, calling out to her father, but it was soon obvious he wasn’t home. He must have had a doctor’s appointment. In the kitchen the kettle was still warm, a plate of toast crusts and a half cup of tea sat on the table. Andie felt a little disappointed. She’d just needed a place to hide out for a few hours where she knew Ross wouldn’t come looking for her, but she would have found some comfort in a hug from her dad.

  At least now she could phone Jess; Andie hadn’t wanted to call any earlier in case she woke her up. But Jess was due at the shop within the hour, so Andie was sure she’d be up by now. She dialled her number.

  ‘I have something to tell you,’ she began when Jess answered. ‘But this is just between you and me for now, okay?’

  ‘You know I’m impressed,’ Andie said to Jess, picking up her glass. ‘You haven’t said “I told you so” once yet.’

  Jess shrugged, refilling her own glass. ‘Why waste my breath stating the bleeding obvious?’

  Andie just smiled, sipping her wine. She was sitting on the floor of Jess’s cramped little flat, leaning back against the sofa where she would sleep that night. She had ended up leaving her father’s house this afternoon before he made it home. She was a little surprised he stayed out most of the day, but then, it was good if he was getting out and about more. Maybe she had been worrying about him unnecessarily.

  Jess had insisted earlier that Andie stay with her, she didn’t even have to ask. She knew where the spare key was hidden, so Jess told her just to let herself in if she wasn’t home yet. Andie wanted to cook her dinner to thank her. Besides, her stomach had finally registered it was hungry, so she stopped in Newtown and bought the makings for a Thai tom yum soup – a favourite of Jess’s – and a couple of bottles of wine. By the time Jess made it home from the shop, the smell of coriander and lemongrass filled the flat, and Andie had started on the first bottle.

  ‘What I will say is this,’ Jess went on, ‘I don’t understand why you left the apartment the way you did. If I were you, I’d have called a locksmith and had the locks changed.’

  Andie sighed. ‘Don’t be crazy, Jess.’

  ‘It’s not crazy,’ she said. ‘That apartment is as much yours.’

  ‘But I don’t want it.’ She paused, thinking of how to explain it to Jess. ‘Have you heard people describe how they feel when their house has been robbed? They’ve had more than their possessions stolen, they’ve had their privacy stolen, their security. They feel violated . . . that’s what it felt like today when I went to the apartment.’

  Jess drew closer and gave Andie’s arm a reassuring rub. ‘Okay,’ she said gently, ‘I understand why you don’t want to keep it —’

  ‘I don’t want to set foot in there ever again, if I can help it.’

  ‘Well, you probably can’t help it,’ said Jess. ‘You’ve been married for ten years, it’s your home as much as it is his.’

  ‘Pity he didn’t take that into account when he had sex with his . . . his . . .’

  ‘Is “slut” the word you’re looking for?’

  ‘Don’t call her that,’ Andie said seriously.

  Jess held up her hands in mock surrender. ‘Okay, I know that’s not a particularly PC term these days, but a spade is still a dirty tool for digging, whatever y
ou call it.’

  Andie looked at her directly. ‘That was me, ten years ago.’

  ‘That was never you,’ Jess cried indignantly. ‘I knew you back then, remember, and you would never have done something like that.’

  ‘You don’t think so?’

  ‘I know so!’ She shifted to face Andie squarely. ‘You were constantly riddled with guilt, always worried about his family, and not wanting his kids to get hurt.’

  ‘Does that make it all right that I took their father away?’

  ‘Andie, you didn’t take him away, he went of his own accord.’

  ‘That’s why I can’t put all the blame on this woman now,’ said Andie. ‘Who knows what lies he’s telling her? I only know that I can’t go through it all over again. From the other side.’ She took a breath. ‘So I’m going to leave him, free and clear.’

  Jess shook her head. ‘After ten years of marriage, you’re entitled —’

  ‘But I don’t want anything of his.’

  ‘What about the shop?’

  Andie looked at her. ‘I don’t know . . .’

  ‘That shop is yours – “free and clear”.’

  ‘But it was his idea.’

  ‘So? You made it what it is today. And it’s your livelihood.’

  ‘Then I’ll have to find another way to make a living.’

  ‘All right,’ said Jess, with a heavy sigh. ‘I have to say it, this kind of talk really worries me.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘It’s too . . . extreme. You’re reacting out of shock,’ she said. ‘I know you’re upset, you’ve got every reason to be upset, Andie, but you’re not thinking rationally. You don’t just walk away from everything and never talk to him again, you’re not teenagers.’

  Jess was right.

  ‘You’ve been married to him for ten years, Andie,’ she said, her tone softening. ‘You need to stop and take a breath.’