The Fallout

by Rebecca Thornton

  She scrolls up to the WhatsApp group members – scanning through the names. There are at least fifteen who’ve requested to be part of the Christmas fair committee. Fifteen! Shit. Shit shit shit, she realises that she should have rung the café ahead of schedule and asked them to reserve the back area. And done some sort of agenda. Double shit and fuck. There are only fifteen minutes before they have to leave for school. She’s not dressed. It had crossed her mind last week but she’d obviously forgotten. It will be OK, she breathes. She’ll beg Maureen the manager to reserve a spot for her, but she thinks of the post-drop-off rush and how busy the café gets at exactly the time the meeting would start. Shit. Why hadn’t she done something about it?

  She can already envisage the look that Charlotte G will give her – the slightly skewed mouth, leaning into some sort of insincere smile. The one that says: I’ll pretend I’m onside with you. But really, I’m judging the shit out of you. Agh, she clenches her fists. She brings up the number of the Green Café on her phone. Please. Come on. Come on. But there’s no answer. She can’t risk it; being shown up in front of Ella. In front of everyone else. Charlotte G. After she’d kicked up a fuss about organising the damn thing in the first place. She imagines the moment when everyone would have to file out into the street – wondering where else to go.

  She’s going to sort this. She is. She remembers who she’s doing this for. Liza. Perhaps they could use the school kitchen? But then she has an idea. She could host it at hers. She’ll just have to put aside all her worries for two hours and be done with it.

  She’ll throw money at the situation. She’ll stop off at Sainsbury’s. Get a bag of croissants and some tea bags and that will be sorted. One hour. She’ll do a quick whizz-around tidy and the house will be passable. The idea of having Ella at her house would normally send her into a dizzying snowball of stress. But today – the alternative is worse. She thinks of the lovely hot-water tap that Ella has at hers. How useful it would be right now but she can’t bring herself to ask Ella to host. She’ll warn Liza to stay downstairs and remember to put some music on in case Thea starts screaming. Brilliant.

  After quickly making Casper his porridge she runs up and pulls on a pair of jeans and a jumper, slathers her face in bronzer and puts on three coats of mascara.

  Just as they have two minutes to put on coats and shoes, Sarah is surprised to see Liza appear. (They have set a few rules for Liza’s stay. Or rather, Tom has: ‘I want to be able to walk around naked in my own home without worrying that Liza is going to see me,’ he had snapped. ‘No walking into the other person’s space without prior warning.’) Thea’s asleep in a red papoose around her front.

  ‘I’m so sorry to be asking you more favours when you’ve already done so much for us with the flat.’ Liza’s rubbing her head that way she does before she’s about to come down with one of her migraines. ‘I really am, but Gav just rang. He can’t make it today. I have something really important I need to do. Could you watch Jack later on?’

  The IVF appointment, thinks Sarah. Twelve p.m. She feels she can barely breathe.

  ‘Please?’ Liza has started tapping on her phone, so hasn’t caught the expression on Sarah’s face. ‘Please, please, please.’

  Sarah thinks of Gav. Rage, swelling inside her, that he would do this. Gav should be bending over backwards to help out at the moment. He should be available at every given opportunity. He’s set up his own web development company for God’s sake. He’s his own boss. He can come and go as he pleases, yet all this time he’s acting as though Liza is making ill-placed demands on him. Sarah tightens her lips. And she also knows that Gav isn’t being honest. She wants to tell Liza that she’d seen Gav. That he’d lied to her. That he’d been with another woman. She wants to tell her friend so badly it’s physically hurting her to keep it a secret.

  ‘I can’t today. Liza, I’m so sorry. I had …’ She wants to tell Liza about her plans. That everything had been arranged by Camilla for her IVF appointment and it was something important, but then she thinks of Jack. She thinks of how that journalist wants to speak to her and she’s absolutely paralysed on the spot. She doesn’t have time to explain anyway. Her fault. Her fault. She has to say yes. From now on, her life comes a close second and that’s all there is to it.

  ‘Sure,’ she relents, thinking of Camilla. Her kindness. How she’d gone out of her way to arrange the appointment and to do her a big favour. But Liza had also been kind, last year. ‘Anything,’ she tells her. ‘I’ll do anything for you at the moment.’

  ‘Thanks,’ says Liza, although she doesn’t look particularly grateful. ‘Sorry. I barely slept last night. Same insomnia. Killing me.’

  ‘By the way. I’m just about to WhatsApp everyone. They’re coming here. At ten. For the Christmas fair committee. So if you don’t want to see anyone just stay downstairs, OK?’

  ‘OK,’ she says. ‘Thank God you warned me. I couldn’t cope with that. Ella got all the sponsorship money, I hear? Crazy. You know who from?’

  ‘No idea,’ Sarah shrugs. ‘Sure you don’t want to come up for a bit?’

  ‘I’m sure. Very sure. I think.’ She massages the back of her neck. ‘I think being part of that chat would probably tip me over the edge. You know, send me really insane.’

  Sarah laughs, and so does Liza. A little too manically. A bit too close to the bone, she thinks. Perhaps this is it. Perhaps they really are going insane. She feels it, certainly.

  ‘OK,’ Sarah says, a bright grin plastered across her face. ‘Ta-ra then. See you later. All good here.’ She shuts the door on Liza and sinks, deep down onto the floor.

  WhatsApp group: Christmas fair committee

  Members: Ella, Ems, Liza, Sarah, Bella, Millie, Amina, Charlotte T, Charlotte G, Charlotte M, Amelia, Shereen, Fizz, Becky D, Becky G, Isa, Marion, Mimi, Camilla, Hozan, Weronika

  Ella: Typing …

  WhatsApp group: Stuff

  Members: Sarah, Camilla

  Sarah: Mils, I’ve got something awful to tell you. I said I’d watch Jack and Thea for a bit. Liza’s got an appointment and Gav is God knows where. It seemed pretty urgent. After all you’ve done for me – booking the appointment and lunch and everything. I’m so sorry.

  Camilla: Ah no worries. We can do it again and we need to think of Liza at the moment. I totally understand.

  Sarah: Yes, I know – I feel bad saying no, especially with all that’s happening. But I’m so sorry again about all the hassle you went to.

  Camilla: No hassle. We’ll do it again soon. Promise. And don’t worry, I’m not pissed off! In truth I could do with the time to get some stuff done. See you at that ruddy meeting.

  Sarah: XXXX THANK YOU I LOVE YOU.

  Camilla: Love you too

  WhatsApp group: Christmas fair committee

  Members: Ella, Ems, Liza, Sarah, Bella, Millie, Amina, Charlotte T, Charlotte G, Charlotte M, Amelia, Shereen, Fizz, Becky D, Becky G, Isa, Marion, Mimi, Camilla, Hozan, Weronika

  Ella: Morning everyone. Hope everyone is ready for the Christmas fair meeting later. Please bring issues or concerns you’d like to share with us. This is a safe space for us all to be completely open. Otherwise looking forward to seeing your enthusiastic selves soon!

  Sarah: Hi All. Yes, looking forward to seeing everyone later on. Venue has changed to my house – 10 am. 64 Heathville Road. W3. See you there. Top buzzer, please! I’ll provide croissants and tea! (And wine, or gin, if anyone should have the urge!)

  WhatsApp group: CFC board

  Members: Sarah, Ella

  Ella: Hi Sarah. Next time it would be really great if you could give me some warning if you’re going to change the arrangements we had. Or discuss it with me first. Thank you!

  Sarah: *Warning*?

  Ella: Yes – if we’re going to work together on this as a team, I need to be making these kinds of decisions with you. Also should you really be making jokes about alcohol on here? People not drinking for religious reasons, and there’s at least o
ne mother that has to abstain from alcohol for her own personal reasons, if you catch my drift, so I think it’s highly insensitive of you to make jokes like these on a public forum.

  Sarah: Typing …

  LIZA

  I’m on the end of Jack’s bed and he’s sitting up a bit now, my little boy, looking pleased. Jan the physio is busy packing up her things.

  ‘You’ve done incredibly well,’ she says, patting his good arm. ‘It’s almost miraculous. These little people, they heal so fast, don’t they?’ She doesn’t look at me as she speaks. I’m not sure what to read into that.

  I want to ask her about Jack’s behaviour but, of course, just as I’m about to summon up the courage to even go there, I hear the click-clack of footsteps and the clearing of a throat. Sarah.

  ‘Oh, gosh, sorry,’ she says when I open the door. I feel bad – opening the door to her in her own home. ‘I just wanted to ask you a quick question.’

  Her eyes look dull and she’s breathing fast. Her make-up is slightly orange, a few white streaks from trails of sweat. Normally I’d point this out to her and we would laugh. You’ve been Tangoed, I’d say. Not today.

  ‘You OK, Sa? What’s the matter?’

  ‘Matter? Nothing. Oh hello,’ she waves to Jan. ‘Sorry, am I disturbing you?’

  I want to tell her that yes. Actually – she is. But then I think of earlier – asking her to watch Jack and Thea whilst I go out. She’d been on the verge of saying no. Surely it must have been important, for her to be dilly-dallying about whether she could watch the kids for an hour. In truth, I’d caught the look on her face. Startled and bewildered, hunting for an excuse not to help me out, but I’d looked down at my phone and ignored her.

  I’d felt crappy afterwards. Leading her on to believe that I had something urgent to do. I thought about what I was actually going to do – which was helping myself before things got much worse. Before the memory of Jack’s fall and the bad things from years ago threatened to overwhelm me and I lost everything.

  I look over at Jack and Thea, her little chest juddering up and down, and I feel like I’m going to cry. If only I could explain.

  ‘Listen. I’m in a hurry,’ Sarah says, opening the door a little wider. ‘I just wanted to ask you about the Christmas fair meeting. Have you got an agenda? Ella – she’s …’

  ‘She’s what?’

  ‘Already driving me mad. Potty. Control thing. It’s weird.’

  ‘Really? I guess someone needs to just be on it in terms of organisation. She’s probably just making sure everything is going to run smoothly. That’s all.’ As soon as the words come out of my mouth, I regret them. I watch as Sarah’s two front teeth sink into her lower lip. ‘I mean, I know you’re on it, Sa. It’s just that, well – Ella is that type, really. Isn’t she?’

  I watch Sarah’s chest rise. She exhales, a thin stream of breath, cutting through the air. ‘Look, Liza. I know you’re busy. I just wondered if you had an agenda that you go through? I didn’t have time to …’

  She shuts her mouth again. I think of the last time she told me she hadn’t had time – she couldn’t find a minute, apparently, to ring back a work contact I’d given her. It’s not time you need, I’d told her.

  ‘Sure. Sure. I’ll dig it out.’ I wait for her to start moving but she stands there. ‘Oh sorry. You want it now?’

  ‘Please. I’m sorry. It’s just that they’re all coming in an hour. I know people will be early. I wanted to give everyone a chance to go home and tidy up breakfast and stuff but I guess some will be quicker than others.’

  I go over to my computer and send her the file. ‘There, all done,’ I tell her. ‘And thanks again for looking after Jack and Thea today. There’s just some stuff I need to get done.’

  She opens her mouth, ready to ask me what it is, but quickly shuts it again. Normally the words come out so easily between us.

  ‘Listen,’ I say. ‘As far as Ella’s concerned at the meeting – just stand your ground.’ I watch her shoulders drop.

  ‘I know. Also,’ her eyes start to shine, ‘our Ella Bradby, you’ll never believe what I’ve found.’

  ‘Mum!’ shouts Jack. ‘Mum.’

  ‘Liza, I’m off too.’ Jan picks up a large, black leather bag. ‘I’ve got to run to my next appointment. Jack, see you next week, Mister, I’m not on your rota until then. You keep doing those exercises.’

  ‘Listen,’ I say to Sarah. ‘Sorry. I’ll talk to you later, shall I? Once I’ve got back from … the thing?’

  ‘Sure.’ Her voice sounds all falsely cheery. ‘Bye everyone,’ she waves her hand around the room. ‘I’ll see you later.’ But I notice she doesn’t make eye contact with anyone at all. Least of all me.

  SARAH

  It’s the third time today Sarah’s wiped the kitchen counter. She’s ready. She knows she is. But she just needs to do something. After all, it’s probably only a matter of minutes until the first person arrives. She has a tiny bet with herself it will be Charlotte G – her FOMO overriding any desire for etiquette. (Because of course, Charlotte G is hot on etiquette.) Next it will be Ella. And then the others will stream in and out in groups of two or three.

  At least she has everything organised. The croissants should be ready at ten fifteen – she’s bought the frozen ones that she’s used to, she’d daren’t try anything new and exciting today – and all the prep had taken less time than she’d thought. For a minute, she’d thought the printer wasn’t going to work but then the machine had started and she had a beautifully presented Excel spreadsheet in her hands, complete with a financial document and a list of things they need to do. She had felt a tad disloyal, deleting Liza’s name from the top, but she wants to show Ella a thing or two. Prove to her she wasn’t quite so incompetent as her majesty had made her feel.

  She takes one last look at her reflection in the back of a spoon. She has reapplied her make-up and prayed no one had looked at her too closely at school drop-off. In the autumn sunlight upstairs in the bedroom she’d noticed smears of orange on the side of her left cheek. Normally Liza would have rubbed it off, as though she was a child. And where is Liza off to anyway? Why is she keeping it a secret?

  Ah! The doorbell. The first guest is here. Sarah lifts her chin, clears her throat to try and rid herself of the pre-hosting flutters. She glances over at the oven timer. Four minutes to ten. She smooths down her black-and-red-piped Boden T-shirt (she’s decided to wear something ‘accessible’ today) and walks to the door. She’d been right. Charlotte G is there and, standing right next to her, is Ella.

  She takes in Ella’s workout gear. She looks so well put together. All matching, even down to her fingernails, which are a deep grey colour, just to go with her leggings. She’s wearing beautiful diamond earrings – which Sarah recognises as Maria Tash. She’d been coveting them for ages. Charlotte G looks – well – Charlotte G-ish. All neat and sensible. Tapered jeans, a good practical jumper and clean, leather boots.

  ‘Oh hi, both of you.’ Sarah pitches her voice down a tone or two. ‘So nice to see you. Do come in.’ She wonders why she’s chosen to accentuate the word do, like she’s the queen, or something.

  ‘I expect you want shoes off?’ Charlotte G points a toe in Sarah’s direction.

  ‘No, of course not. As long as you haven’t stepped in anything,’ she laughs, aware she sounds totally neurotic. ‘Go into the front room. Sit down.’

  She hasn’t dared look at Ella’s face yet. She doesn’t want to know how she’s being judged – Ella’s beautiful house flits through her mind. But she does notice that her hallway mantelpiece is looking a right tip. Tom’s spare change on the side, one of Casper’s toy cars. A diffuser that looks old and battered. Why hadn’t she thought to clear that up?

  ‘I’ll bring you a cup of tea in. Builders’ OK with you?’ But neither of them reply. ‘I’ll just be a sec. Make yourselves comfortable. If you could answer the door if it goes that would be great.’

  She pours the boiling
water into a pre-prepared tea pot, and reappears into the living room. ‘Here. Milk, sugar. Help yourselves. I often find it’s easier that way. I’m just going to check on the croissants.’

  Just as she goes into the kitchen the doorbell goes. She’s starting to feel a little overwhelmed now, the heat of the oven blasting in her face. She hears Camilla. Phew. She wonders how she’s going to make it up to her friend for missing the IVF appointment. Camilla will never quite be Liza but, recently, she’s been coming up a very close second.

  ‘Jesus, Sarah,’ she hears a harried voice behind her and jumps. ‘Ella and Charlotte G.’ Camilla shuts the kitchen door behind her. ‘Why are they acting all … weird?’

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘Like. I don’t know. Awkward. Or something. It’s like I’ve done something wrong.’

  ‘God only knows. Quick, help me with the tea, will you? Fill up the kettle again? Jesus, Mils, this is a shit-show. I can’t cope with it all.’

  ‘Liza OK? I forgot to ask how it’s been with her downstairs.’

  Sarah opens her mouth. She wants to tell Camilla the truth about how strained it’s been between them. But she feels disloyal, especially given her behaviour, her lies, are at the root of it.

  ‘It’s been fine so far.’

  ‘Really? Not too much pressure on you guys? I saw Tom this morning. He looked a bit – well, stressed.’

  ‘Oh, Tom is always stressed at the moment. Work stuff. And anyway – you’ll never guess who I saw. The other day. With another woman.’ Sarah puts her hand over her mouth the minute the words come out. She can’t believe what she’s done, but there’s no going back now.

  ‘What? Who?’

  ‘Gav.’

  ‘Oh my God. What the hell? Does Liza know?’

  ‘No. I haven’t told her. Can you believe it? Please, please don’t say anything. I just needed to tell someone.’ She doesn’t quite know why she needed to tell anyone at all. But she feels both better and worse that Camilla now knows. ‘Oh fuck, the doorbell again.’ She opens the kitchen door and Ella is standing there, looking at a large picture in the corridor. She jumps. Shit. Did Ella overhear their conversation? Impossible.