Those Other Women

by Nicola Moriarty

A nasty feeling washed over her and she felt a flash of anger at Cynthia – oops, Beth – for putting her in this situation. For a second she considered scooping up Harmony and taking the stairs to try to beat Beth to the ground floor, but Harmony turned away and toddled back inside the apartment. Annalise’s shoulders slumped. There was no getting out of it now. She needed to push those nasty memories and thoughts away. Forget about it. She checked her watch, it was 8 pm. Beth had said she’d be back by eleven. All she had to do was get through the next three hours and then she could be back in her own apartment and she wouldn’t let Beth get away with this again.

  She followed Harmony inside and closed the door behind them. She picked up the instructions off the kitchen bench:

  Dear Annalise, thank you for being my saviour tonight.

  What the hell? She already knew she was going to get her to babysit!

  I know you’re not a kid-person and I know tonight is going to suck for you but I honestly had no other option. FYI, Harmony is eighteen months old, which means she thinks she’s in charge of the world and that she can do anything and everything on her own. She can’t. She’s still a baby.

  She’s already bathed and in her nappy and pjs for the night and she’s had her dinner. All she needs is her bottle of milk (instructions under the bottles next to the fruit bowl, over there to your right). And some cuddles and maybe a story and a lullaby (if you’re up for it?) and pop her in her cot and she’ll go right to sleep.

  I can’t afford normal sitting rates – although I get the feeling you wouldn’t know what they are anyway. Ha! But I thought maybe it’s fair if I just give you half of whatever I earn tonight?

  So I know I told you I’d be home by eleven – I lied. I won’t be home till about one. Sorry. Thought you might not let me leave if I told you the truth. There’s a lasagne in the fridge you can have for your dinner if you want. It’s homemade and I’ve been told I’m a pretty good cook.

  Thank you again. See you later. Please don’t punch me in the face when I get home.

  Beth (not Cynthia. I’ve been trying to tell you for the past year that my name isn’t Cynthia.)

  Despite her anger, Annalise had to smile at the end of the note. So Beth had a bit of sass about her, did she? Well, at the very least she could respect that. Though she wasn’t too happy knowing she was now here for five hours instead of three.

  She looked over at Harmony, who had sat herself down in the middle of the rug in front of the blank television.

  ‘So,’ said Annalise, ‘I don’t know if I’m impressed with your mum for her ingenuity or furious with her for tricking me into looking after you. I’ll tell you what,’ she added as she wandered over and sat down on the couch in front of her, ‘if I were you, I’d be pretty pissed at her for giving me a name like Harmony. Oh shit, I’m probably not supposed to swear in front of you, am I? Probably shouldn’t have said shit just now either, should I?’

  She tipped her head to the side, watching Harmony’s face. ‘Or do you not even know what I’m saying? What age do kids start talking? Can you speak?’

  Harmony stared blankly back at her.

  ‘Sprechen Sie Englisch?’ Annalise tried. ‘Parlez-vous anglais?’

  A hint of a smile appeared at the edges of her mouth and she let out a tiny chuckle.

  ‘You making fun of my German and French, woman?’

  She giggled again.

  ‘You try and do better,’ Annalise said. ‘Hey,’ she added, ‘what time do your kind go to bed? Like, when can I banish you to your baby cage and turn on the TV? Your mum better have Foxtel, or I’m gonna be pissed off. Oops, sorry, I did it again, didn’t I?’

  Harmony pointed a chubby finger at Annalise. ‘Again,’ she said, her tone firm.

  ‘Oh! So you can talk. Again what? You want me to swear some more? I don’t know, now that I know you can speak, I guess I shouldn’t say things like shit or fuck or whatever in front of you, should I?’

  ‘Again,’ she repeated. Her brow creased. ‘Again!’

  ‘I know what you want,’ Annalise said, ‘you want me to speak another language again, don’t you? Well, I’m sorry, kid, but my phrases are limited. Let’s see, I can order a croissant in French . . .’ She put on her best French accent and said, ‘Je voudrais un croissant, s’il vous plaît.’

  Harmony burst into a fit of giggles, much bigger than the last time. Jeez, it didn’t take much to get this kid’s sense of humour going.

  ‘And I can order an orange juice if I’m in Germany,’ she continued. ‘Einen Orangensaft, bitte!’

  More peals of laughter. This time Harmony tipped backwards onto the rug and lay on her back, her body rocking with delight. She reached up and grabbed hold of her toes.

  ‘More!’ she commanded between giggles.

  ‘Qué estás haciendo en mi cabeza,’ said Annalise. ‘That’s Spanish by the way, it means you’re doing my head in. Are we done with this game yet?’

  ‘More!’

  ‘But I’m running out of things to say!’

  ‘More! Again! More!’

  Annalise had to admit, Harmony’s laughter was kind of contagious. She gave in and went through her entire repertoire of foreign language phrases again. And then again. After the fourth time through the kid’s laughter seemed to be finally abating to mild amusement and Annalise figured she could give it a rest.

  ‘Right,’ she said, ‘what are two single ladies going to do for the rest of a Tuesday night?’

  She got up and wandered around to the kitchen to see about Harmony’s bottle. She supposed she should give her her milk and put her to bed.

  Turns out that was the most naive thought she’d ever had in her entire life.

  More fucking lies from Beth. This kid did not want to be put in her cot. Every time Annalise even tried to approach the cot with Harmony, she screamed blue murder. Didn’t matter if she carried her or led her by the hand. Didn’t matter if she spoke German or French or Spanish – apparently all of those phrases had completely lost their charm. She made a mental note to learn some new phrases before she saw her again and then shook her head at herself. What the actual fuck? I don’t need to learn any new phrases ’cause I’m not planning on ever doing this again.

  Eventually she gave up altogether on getting Harmony into the cot or even into her bedroom. ‘Fine,’ she said, ‘you win. If we watch TV together, will you sit with me and not do that super-annoying ear-piercing screaming shit anymore?’

  ‘Shit,’ Harmony said with a firm nod.

  ‘Ah, crap, I knew I shouldn’t have sworn in front of you.’

  ‘Crap,’ she said.

  ‘Stop it!’

  She plonked Harmony on the couch and sat down next to her to turn on the television and see what she could find. Oh God, was she going to have to go PG on this now, too? She flicked through the stations – thankfully Beth did have Foxtel – and tried to settle on an old episode of Modern Family.

  But within seconds there was a loud grumble from her left.

  ‘What?’ she asked. ‘It’s a family show! You can tell ’cause it has the word “family” in it. Look, there’s even a little girl in it.’

  Harmony grumbled again and reached out to pat the remote control.

  Annalise sighed and started flicking again. She tried stopping on one family-friendly show after another, but each time Harmony patted the remote and waited for her to keep changing channels. ‘I swear to God I’m not watching something animated,’ she said, ‘or some Teletubby shit or whatever.’

  ‘Shit,’ Harmony said again. ‘Up,’ she added.

  ‘Up?’ Annalise asked. ‘You’re already up. You’re up on the couch. How much higher do you need to get?’

  ‘Up,’ she repeated.

  ‘You’re already up.’ Annalise said, an irritated tone creeping into her voice.

  ‘UP!’

  ‘The only thing higher than where you are now is on my lap and I don’t want you on my lap, okay?’

  Annalise could
have sworn that Harmony rolled her eyes in response. Then Harmony flipped over onto her tummy, slid herself backwards off the couch and toddled over to the cupboard under the television. She opened up the cupboard door and started running her fingers along the spines of the DVDs like she was a customer browsing in a shop. She found the one she was after, pulled it out and brought it over to place in Annalise’s lap.

  ‘Up,’ she instructed.

  Annalise helped her climb back up next to her on the couch again. She looked at the DVD on her lap. It was called Up. She felt foolish.

  ‘Sorry,’ she said. ‘Wait, this is a cartoon!’ But she couldn’t be bothered arguing, it would be easier to put the movie on.

  Ten minutes later she was a sobbing fucking mess.

  She’d never seen an opening of a movie as sad as this damn thing. Watching the cute little boy and his girlfriend grow up, get married, start getting ready for a baby and then WHAM. No baby. No happiness. And next thing, the woman’s dead and the little boy is a grumpy old man and Annalise is left devastated.

  ‘How is this your favourite movie?’ she wailed at Harmony, who was staring wide-eyed at the screen, clearly not one bit emotionally affected by the story. ‘Have you no heart?’

  They kept watching and as the movie went on, Harmony started to lean into Annalise. First it was just an elbow placed carelessly on her knee. Then her head resting on her arm. Then she started to snuggle in a little more and a little more.

  Eventually, somehow without Annalise noticing, Harmony had managed to clamber her way onto her lap, her head resting against Annalise’s chest, her hair tickling her chin. Her warm, compact little body felt nicer than she’d expected.

  More tears started to flow, but this time it had nothing to do with the movie.

  ‘Ah, Harmony,’ she murmured through silent tears. ‘What have I done?’

  She looked down and realised Harmony was sleeping.

  * * *

  Annalise woke up with a start, momentarily confused about where she was. Who was in her bedroom, leaning over her, touching her shoulder. The fear flipped her stomach, causing an abrupt feeling of nausea to rise up within. Then she remembered. The nausea dissipated as quickly as it had appeared. She wasn’t in bed. She wasn’t even in her own apartment. She was next door, in Beth’s. Harmony was asleep on her lap and Beth was above them, looking down at Annalise with this big weird grin on her face.

  ‘I knew it!’ she whispered. ‘I knew you were a big softy underneath it all. Look at the two of you.’

  Annalise glared back at her and all of a sudden, the weight of the warm body against her own felt suffocating. Too hot. Too heavy. She needed to get her off, off, off.

  ‘Here,’ she hissed, ‘take her, would you?’

  Beth scooped up her daughter, her face changing. ‘I’m sorry,’ she whispered, ‘I know it’s a lot later than I said —’

  Annalise cut her off. ‘Whatever. Just don’t ever expect me to do this again.’ She stood up from the couch and headed for the front door.

  ‘Wait a sec! Your money! Let me just put Harmony down in her cot.’

  Annalise didn’t wait for her to come back out from Harmony’s room.

  CHAPTER 20

  Saturday morning, Poppy asked her out for brunch. Annalise had never been a brunch person. And the two of them hadn’t spoken all week since the argument at soccer. It was easy enough to avoid one another – Annalise stayed hidden down in the warehouse and Poppy didn’t leave the office upstairs. But she didn’t like things being this way between them, and while she would have preferred to catch up over a few drinks rather than a weird half-breakfast half-lunch nonsense meal, she agreed.

  Poppy met Annalise at her apartment door, and they walked to a cafe overlooking the river in silence, apart from the odd perfunctory comment about the weather or work, or the annoying guy who lived one level up from Poppy and liked to practise on his drum kit at highly inconvenient times like 3 am on a Wednesday.

  At the cafe, after they ordered their food – poached eggs on sourdough with smashed avocado and goat’s cheese for Poppy; a bacon and egg roll with barbecue sauce for Annalise – Annalise looked across the table at Poppy, waiting for her to speak first, but she had a feeling Poppy was doing the same, so she bit the bullet.

  ‘You had some pretty decent moves at our last match.’

  She saw Poppy’s face glow despite the fact she was trying to remain modest. ‘I had a good game,’ she said and Annalise laughed at her.

  ‘You can’t do modest,’ she said. ‘You’re so fucking proud of yourself!’

  Poppy laughed as well. ‘Yeah, okay, okay,’ she said. ‘But come on, I’ve been in goals for so long, I didn’t expect to be any good out on the field.’

  ‘Listen,’ Annalise said, deciding to take the lead, ‘I’ve been thinking about that whole hairdresser story you told me. I guess I can understand why it had you so worried. Things have really turned to crap with NOP, and I suppose having our members out there hassling mums adds fuel to the fire.’

  ‘Yeah, it really does,’ said Poppy.

  ‘So I get it. I get why you’ve been upset with everything that’s happened.’

  ‘Thanks, Annalise, it means a lot to me that you understand where I’m coming from.’

  ‘We can fix it, you know. We can fix NOP, get it back to the way you thought it was supposed to be,’ she said, even though she didn’t exactly know how.

  ‘I don’t know if we can,’ said Poppy. ‘The problem is, it’s taken on a life of its own.’

  ‘We’ll find a way,’ Annalise said, because it was the best she could offer.

  ‘Oh, by the way, did you see NOP members have been invited to a fundraiser on a boat next month? It costs $90 per head, but quite a few of the girls have already said they’re interested. Do you want to come?’

  ‘Drinks on the harbour? Sure, why not?’

  ‘You know what? I never told you the end of the hairdresser story.’

  ‘There’s more?’

  ‘There’s a LOT more.’

  Poppy described how Wendy had turned on her and Annalise listened with growing amazement.

  ‘Holy shit,’ she said when Poppy was done. ‘I can’t believe that little fucker did that to you. That’s awful.’

  ‘I know. Although if I’m entirely honest, I kind of think I deserved it.’

  ‘What do you mean you deserved it?’

  ‘Well, she wouldn’t have been so upset in the first place if I hadn’t caused NOP to start picking on parents.’

  ‘Poppy, you went out of your way to make it right for her. Besides, you weren’t the one who went up to her in the cafe, were you? And you didn’t force the women who did. They acted on their own.’

  ‘I guess. I wonder who it was that told her about me being a part of NOP.’

  ‘Hang on,’ said Annalise ‘Your appointment wasn’t meant to be with someone called Wendy.’ She grabbed her bag and searched around inside it for her wallet.

  ‘Oh yeah,’ said Poppy, ‘she did say someone else was feeling unwell when I arrived.’

  ‘No, no, Poppy, you don’t get it, I know who told her.’

  ‘What? Who?’

  Annalise pulled a business card out of her wallet and held it up to show Poppy. ‘This is who you were supposed to see.’

  Poppy read the name and stared back at Annalise, perplexed. ‘Sophie,’ she said. ‘So? I don’t know what this means.’

  ‘Sophie came along to a NOP get-together, a little while back. She handed out these business cards. That’s why I booked you with her – I thought she’d be good! I completely forgot that’s who you were supposed to see when you first told me about Wendy. Sophie must have dobbed you in to her.’

  ‘But why would she do that? Wouldn’t that be admitting to Wendy that she was a member too?’

  ‘Not if she’s our imposter! Not if she’s the one who wrote the article.’

  ‘Oh my God. Do you think she could be?’

 
‘I think it’s worth checking out.’

  A waitress delivered their food and they thanked her distractedly, too caught up in the drama to think about eating.

  ‘Have a look on Facebook,’ said Poppy. ‘See if she’s still part of the group.’

  Annalise started searching and had found her within seconds. ‘Yep,’ she said. ‘Still a member.’

  ‘Go to her profile, see what you can find.’

  ‘I’m already doing that.’

  Annalise scrolled through Sophie’s account. ‘I see photos of her out to dinner, photos of her rock climbing with some guy . . . oh, that’s her husband, I think. Oh my God! There’s a pic of her here with a kid! Wait, no, it’s her niece, she’s got her sister tagged in the photo. I don’t know, Poppy, it’s all looking pretty legit . . . not like a fake account that’s been thrown together to sneak into NOP. She has over three hundred friends and her timeline goes back for years and years. I don’t think she’s a mum.’

  ‘Oh. Well, there’s still something weird going on, right?’

  ‘For sure,’ said Annalise, putting the phone down. ‘I reckon we should visit her at her salon together and confront her about the whole thing.’

  They turned their attention to their food now and slipped back into easier topics as they concentrated on filling their stomachs.

  ‘Hey,’ said Poppy, as she sawed away at a very dense piece of sourdough toast. ‘I had a sort of date after our last soccer game.’

  ‘What? Why didn’t you open with that? What do you mean a “sort of date”?’

  ‘It’s hard to explain, but he’s a soccer player from the Parra men’s side, so it was really just a drink after the game. But he wanted me to have dinner with him tonight.’

  ‘And are you going to?’

  ‘No. I chickened out. I’m not sure if I really want to meet someone. You know what I mean? Shouldn’t I stay single for a while? It’s only been six months. Isn’t that what you’re supposed to do after a serious relationship ends?’

  Annalise smirked. ‘Oh yes, and you should also go trekking through Tibet and find yourself. No, honey, you’re supposed to do exactly what you want to do. If it feels right to date someone then do it. As far as I’m concerned, six months is plenty. If it feels right to fuck randoms, then do that. But don’t try to follow some supposed rule telling you how to live. What’s he like anyway? Is he nice? Is he hot? Is he good in bed?’