Nobody Knows

by Rebecca Barber

  I was halfway home before anyone spoke. On a normal day I would pick the girls up and the whole way home they would talk incessantly, telling me about their friends, the teacher spilling coffee on her dress, the smelly boy at the back of the class causing trouble, and anything else that remotely caught their interest. But today there was just a silence. Deafening. Painful.

  “What happened at school today?” I encouraged as I stopped at the traffic lights.

  “Nothing,” they murmured in unison.

  Straight away I knew something was definitely up. Glancing in the rearview mirror I saw two very despondent little girls. Gone were my chirpy angels and in their place was two let down daughters. Cutting through two lanes of traffic, horns being beeped at me furiously, I turned the corner and pulled over. Once we were parked, I switched the ignition off and turned to face them.

  “Come on, girls, what’s wrong? I know something happened, so why are you sad? I know I was late and I’m very sorry about that.”

  “Don’t you love us anymore?” Bianca asked bluntly.

  Stunned, my mouth dropped open and I stared at them blankly. “Of course I love you. Very, very much. I don’t want you to ever think that I don’t,” I attempted to reassure them.

  “Then why didn’t you come and get us?” Charli queried. She was a smart girl, and explaining was always painful with her. There was no point trying to lie or even dodge the question. She would call me on it every time.

  “Do you remember when I told you that I was going to have another baby? That you were going to have a younger brother or sister?” I watched as they nodded, slightly confused. “Mummy was very tired this afternoon and accidentally fell asleep on the lounge. It wasn’t that I forgot you, it’s just I took a nap and forgot to set an alarm.” After a brief pause and a shared glance between them, Bianca smiled happily.

  “You’re silly, Mummy,” Bianca said. I reached out and squeezed her hand. It was a simple explanation, but it was an honest one.

  “Why do we have to have a brother?” Charli sulked, crossing her arms pointedly. “Boys smell.”

  I threw my head back and chuckled. I hadn’t laughed like that in a while and it felt good. “You’re right. Boys do smell.” I couldn’t lie to her. “But having a brother won’t be such a bad thing. You just wait and see,” I promised.

  Although I knew I hadn’t been late on purpose, I still felt like I had let them down. And as much as I knew that giving in to those feelings would just create bad habits, at that moment I didn’t care. Things weren’t good at home. That was a sad reality. Even I wasn’t keen on going home. “So, who wants to go visit Aunty Rhiannon?” I offered, watching as their innocent faces lit up. The thought of going to Rhiannon’s instead of home made me smile too.

  I hadn’t realized just how much I was dreading going home until I turned back around, fastened my seatbelt and pulled out into the traffic heading back into the city. I found myself ashamed that I didn’t want to face it. I knew I would have to at some point, but there was nothing saying that I couldn’t delay it for a while.

  Moments later the three of us were squished in an elevator with a man who had bigger boobs than mine and who smelt like a strange combination of garlic and sawdust. Bianca had her fingers pinched on her nose and Charli looked like she was about to ask something terrible, when thankfully the elevator jolted with a ping and the doors opened. Quickly we jumped out and dashed down the hallway to Rhiannon’s. I didn’t even get the chance to knock. By the time I reached the opening, the girls were giggling so loudly that Rhiannon had opened the door to find out what all the noise was about and Charli almost fell through the door in hysterics. By the time I joined them, all three were squirming on the carpet in front of me in fits of laughter as Charli attempted to describe Mr. Garlic and Sawdust.

  “Hey.” I smiled, reaching down and pulling her up off the floor.

  “Thanks,” Rhiannon puffed, brushing at her clothes. “Hey girls, do you want to watch some TV?” she offered hopefully. Rhiannon’s apartment wasn’t exactly child friendly, but she still tried and the girls loved her for it.

  “Can we watch music?” Bianca asked hopefully as her eyes lit up. My baby girl’s latest obsession was Beyoncé. The songs were constantly on repeat. But it had become more than that. Lately we had started to get personal re-enactments and dance moves.

  Rhiannon looked at me, I shrugged, and moments later the top forty was blaring from the lounge room. “Wine?” she offered.

  Normally I would never drink if had to drive the girls, but tonight I needed it. “Absolutely!” Just the thought of it made me feel confident and inspired and I had yet to have a taste.

  I watched in silence as Rhiannon darted about the kitchen, pulling out stunning crystal wine glasses, uncorking the bottle, and pouring. She made it all look so grown up and easy. She didn’t pause once to stop and argue or trip over toys left on the kitchen floor. She handed me my glass and watched with anticipation as I took a sip. As soon as I placed the glass on the counter she pounced. “So, what’s up?”

  “Nothing,” I lied and she knew it.

  “Gillian?”

  Gulping down a few more mouthfuls of courage, I looked up to see Rhiannon staring at me with intense, scrutinizing eyes. “What’s the bastard done now?”

  “He kicked me out.”

  As soon as I admitted it I knew I was in trouble. Once the words were out there, I could never take them back. Rhiannon dropped her glass on the floor with a smash. Glass and wine went everywhere. I raced around, grabbing the tea towel and mopping up the spill. I’d had a lot of practice with spills and breakages.

  Suddenly Rhiannon reached out and grabbed my wrist, stopping me dead in my tracks. “I need to get this wine up before it stains the cabinets,” I replied to her silent question.

  “Fuck the cabinets!” she announced, dropping my wrist and striding into the lounge room. “Girls, do you want to stay here for tea? How about I cook a big bowl of spaghetti for dinner, then you can watch a movie?”

  “Yeah!” Bianca said happily.

  “Can we, Mum?” Charli called out.

  Straining to hold back tears as I furiously scrubbed at the floor, I said, “Sure, honey, if it’s okay with Rhiannon.”

  “You girls stay in here while I organize us some dinner. I’ll come get you when it’s ready.” She hugged them both tightly. Moments later she marched purposefully back into the kitchen without a word. Before I knew what was happening, Rhiannon had downed two shots of vodka and popped the cork on another bottle of wine. I was the one who had been kicked out of my bedroom and my marriage, yet Rhiannon was downing shots faster than I could count.

  I returned to my stool at the bench and awaited the inquisition. I’ll admit I watched with fascination as Rhiannon systematically got things happening. She refilled my wine glass, opened a jar of Bolognese, put on a pot of boiling water, and sent a text before sitting down beside me, taking both my hands in hers. “Right! Start at the beginning and leave nothing out,” she commanded in the most loving and supportive tone that she could muster.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Joel

  He was drunk. Obscenely drunk. “Another shot, Pete,” Joel said, tossing a wad of notes across the bar. He’d been in the dark, dingy pub drinking by himself for hours. Every time he began to think about the mess that was his life he got so angry that only a combination of tequila shots chased with a rum and Coke numbed the pain.

  “Don’t you think you’ve had enough?” Pete asked with a wink.

  “Fuck off!” Joel slurred. “I’ll say when I’ve had enough. Pour another one while I take a piss.”

  Joel stumbled his way to the bathroom. Almost forty minutes later, Joel managed to make his way back to the bar and his phone perched beside his drink, he saw that he had forty-two new messages. All from work, not one from his errant wife.

  “Stupid bitch,” he muttered to no one in particular. “Shows how much she cares. Hasn’t even bothered to cal
l and see if I am alive.”

  “Maybe you should go home then,” Pete offered, trying to keep his voice neutral.

  “Don’t tell me what to do! Whatta you know?” Joel crumpled.

  “I’ll call you a taxi,” Pete offered, disappearing behind the bar.

  Joel started mumbling and babbling incoherently to himself. A fiery redhead perched her bony bum on the barstool beside him. She had tacky fire-engine red plastic fingernails that she tapped rhythmically on the bar. It took mere seconds for Joel to become infuriated at the annoying noise.

  “Can you not?”

  “What?”

  “Tapping.”

  “Tapping what?”

  Joel rolled his eyes, his frustration growing. Taking another look at Miss Cheap, he said, “Look, I’m not in the mood for your shit tonight. Just stop the fucking tapping or I’ll stop it for you.”

  “Wanna take me home?” She grinned, running her nails up and down his arms.

  “I’m married.”

  “Don’t care.”

  “Okay then.”

  “Okay.”

  “We’re leaving?”

  “Now!”

  “My place?”

  “Easy.”

  “I heard.” Joel dumped a fistful of cash on the counter, wrapped his arms around her scrawny waist, and together they fell out the door. Joel half staggered, half crawled towards the one place that he could never come back from.

  They stumbled through the door into the cold night air. He climbed into the backseat of the taxi, pausing momentarily to vomit out the door before slamming it behind him. Disgusted with himself, Joel didn’t even care as he wiped his mouth on his hundred and eighty dollar Gucci tie, covering it in tiny bits of vomit.

  With her fake nails digging into his thighs and biceps, Joel didn’t know what to do or say. He just sat there stunned. Joel just stared blankly ahead as the Indian taxi driver mumbled along with a song that Joel had never heard before while the whore beside him kissed and caressed and nibbled and groped at him with a desperation that was completely unexpected.

  By the time they reached Joel’s driveway, he’d fallen into such a deep depression that he didn’t want to be with anyone. Silent tears streamed down his face as the sobbing began. With yet another wad of cash thrust towards the driver, Joel turned and faced the woman still in the taxi. Then unexpectedly and without a word, Joel slammed the door with her still inside. “Take her wherever she wants to go. Just get her away from me.”

  Shocked, a spray of abuse burst forth from her. “You are nothing but a fucking tease, you know that? You think that having money makes you better than me? That you can just buy me off? I’m better than that. I’m not some cheap whore. I deserve better than you. You’re an arrogant son of a bitch…” her voice trailed off as the taxi crunched the gravel and turned back onto the road. Joel was left standing in the centre of his front yard looking up at a darkened house, feeling completely alone.

  After minutes of fidgeting with his keys, trying to fit the key into the lock, Joel found himself standing in his lifeless, loveless bedroom. For a moment he had forgotten about what he had done. He had forgotten about all the problems and all the arguments and all the drama that had plagued his life. But standing in his bedroom with nothing on the dresser and half the wardrobe empty, he couldn’t hide from the truth. Nothing he did would make him forget what he’d done.

  Then, unexpectedly, a cold shiver ran through his body. Where was Gillian? Where was all her stuff? He remembered packing it up, but he had left the boxes stacked by the door. Now there wasn’t a box in sight. The house creaked, and Joel realized that for the first time in a long time it was quiet enough to hear it doing so, something he couldn’t recall hearing since the day they’d brought Charli home and that first night when she screamed and howled for hours.

  Instantly Joel was frantic. He was running through the house, throwing open doors with wild abandon and switching on every light. She hadn’t taken the girls and left. Their rooms looked like they did every day. The pink bedspreads pulled up neatly, all the toys packed away in their homes, and all the clothes folded neatly in the cupboards. Joel breathed a loud, heavy sigh of relief when he spotted Morris, Bianca’s much loved moose, laying on the end of the bed with his velvety antlers drooping over the side. He knew she would never leave without Morris. So where the hell was Gillian’s stuff?

  With trepidation, Joel pushed back the door to the last room in the house, the spare room. He knew that it would have made sense to look there first, but even with as much as he’d had to drink Joel found that he was unexpectedly sober. Steadying himself with the door frame, he could see everything that Gillian had done today. No longer was her stuff thrown roughly into boxes in his hurried attempt to get her out of his life, but it was all neatly put away—typical Gillian. But then the punch came. The hardest hit Joel could imagine and he had no one to blame but himself. Sitting on the bedside table was a photo of Charli and Bianca smiling happily, Gillian between them. He recalled the afternoon when it was taken. He was at work. They had been so excited. Gillian had taken the girls butterfly hunting. It was the first crushing blow, but not the only one. Sitting beside it, like almost an afterthought, was an ultrasound photo. One Joel had never seen before. It was the first picture of his son.

  “Gillian!” Joel cried out with anguish and torment. But no answers came. The house was sadly silent—no giggling, no arguing, no singing, just heart-breaking silence.

  For the first time since Joel’s life began to take a nose dive, he realized what his life would be like without family. And he wasn’t yet convinced that he liked being completely alone.

  Joel collapsed onto the sofa in the dark and waited. Surely if Gillian was out with the girls she wouldn’t be late. She was a lot of things, but an irresponsible mother wasn’t one of them. So he sat. And he waited. Three hours later she still hadn’t shown up. Frustrated, Joel finally gave up and found his phone. He’d been ignoring the calls and messages since he had walked out of the office this morning, but now he was anxious to see if Gillian had even bothered to contact him. Forty-six unread text messages, none from Gillian. Eighteen missed calls. Not one from Gillian. He couldn’t blame her, he’d been an arse, but she still should have called. Joel suddenly realized that he was hurt more than he thought he could be.

  Bored and with nothing better to do, Joel started wading through the messages to try and kill some time until they got back. It was the same usual crap. Messages from his mother checking in, another an automated reminder about his dentist appointment tomorrow, a few from unknown numbers asking him to call them about a property they had seen on a website. Then there was a mysterious, cryptic message from Samantha.

  Samantha: Answer ur phone—don’t come 2 the office til u speak 2 me. Not a joke. U r not allowed in office—under investigation. Work from home til advised.

  And there it was. In less than one hundred and sixty characters Joel’s world tumbled further and further into disarray. He was suspended indefinitely. And now his mind raced. What had he done to deserve it? Or, more frighteningly, which indiscretion had he been caught doing to get him suspended? There were just so many. Depending on which one they were referring to would ultimately determine whether or not he would even have a job to go back to.

  Chapter Twenty

  Gillian

  “Mum, I’m tired,” Bianca whined, squirming into my lap.

  “I know, sweetie,” I tried to placate her, stroking her soft hair. She wiggled and squirmed, trying to get comfortable, and eventually nuzzling into my neck and sighing heavily. “I should really get these girls home. It’s getting late.”

  Rhiannon looked at me with drunk, sympathetic eyes. The past four hours had been full on. Like the friend she was, Rhiannon let me dump everything on her. I’ll admit it felt good to finally share all the pain and all the trouble that I had been going through. And Rhiannon said all the right things. She promised me that I hadn’t asked for it and it wa
sn’t my fault. Repeatedly, she had stated that Joel was just an asshole and he had his own issues that he just seemed to be taking out on me.

  “Charli,” Rhiannon called out to her.

  Surprisingly, she came bouncing in, still full of beans. “You called?” she asked. I knew that sneaky smile any day of the week. She had been lying low, in hopes that we would forget she was still not in bed and let her stay up past bedtime.

  “How would you and Bianca like to have a sleepover at Aunty Rhiannon’s tonight?” Rhiannon offered, briefly glancing in my direction.

  “What about Mum?”

  “I suppose she can stay too. What do you think?”

  “Can we, Mum? Please?” Charli begged, looking up at me with cocker spaniel eyes.

  Stealing a glance at Rhiannon, she just nodded, and without a thought in my head, I found myself nodding along with her. “Yep, just for tonight though,” I stated, more for my own resolve than to make a point.

  “What about my pajamas?” Bianca added.

  Instantly I felt guilty. This wasn’t a planned slumber party and I knew all the things that they should do and have that they didn’t. They didn’t have a toothbrush or their pajamas, and Morris wasn’t there for Bianca to snuggle up to, but as soon as I considered the alternative of taking them home, I knew we were staying.

  “Well, Bianca,” Rhiannon began, scooping her up from my lap, “I am pretty sure I have some Elmo pajamas that will fit you and a spare pink toothbrush that I keep especially for you. So it’s okay. What do you think?”

  “Okay,” she sang happily.

  I watched as Rhiannon carried Bianca down the hallway. I could hear the giggling and squealing as she got them ready for bed and tucked them in. Both the girls were in the spare bed and my choice was either the sofa or to bunk in with Rhiannon.

  While she was gone, I found a bottle of Midori and some pineapple juice and mixed up a deadly concoction. Looking at the three empty wine bottles on the counter and the two empty bags of roasted cashews, I felt drunk and not one bit guilty about not going home. It wasn’t like there was anyone there waiting for me.