Later, when they went to bed, Frankie checked her phone before she turned out the light and snuggled her way into Dom’s arms. She saw a post on MOP’s Facebook page from Leanne.
Evening ladies,
I know it’s late so most of you won’t see this until tomorrow, but I felt the need to post it now, tonight.
This whole thing we have going with NOP? It’s time for it to end. Several MOP members went along to a fundraiser event tonight and met quite a few of the women from NOP. In fact, I met the founder of NOP and confronted her. I was angry with her for starting up that group and for setting out to hurt mothers. We argued. We couldn’t seem to see eye to eye.
But later on, the two of us worked side by side to help someone. To help another woman.
And I realised that the two of us were just the same. Two women, trying to make it through. Trying to be there for the people we love the most. Trying to find our way.
We have MOP as a place for mums to connect. A place to support one another. A place to meet and make new friends, share advice, exchange ideas. And you know what NOP is? It’s a place for these other women to connect. So why shouldn’t they have that? Yes, many of them said or did nasty things, but so did many of us.
So, right now, right here, I’m calling for an end to this. No more fighting. No more messages of hate. I’ll be extending the olive branch to NOP and I hope that all of you will too. There’s room enough for all of us.
Goodnight.
Xx
PART SEVEN
THREE MONTHS LATER
Spring
CHAPTER 34
Poppy was back in goals. Back where she felt like she belonged, for the grand final of the season. So much for that doctor and his prognosis that her hand might never be the same. It was perfectly fine. The slightest twinge here and there, but otherwise, more than capable of allowing her to catch a high-speed soccer ball. Okay, so she’d let one goal in today. But she’d made plenty of decent saves as well. And they were up 2–1 with ten minutes to go. All they had to do was hold them off until the whistle blew and they’d take home the win.
She looked over at the sideline. Elle was pacing back and forth, shouting instructions at the team. She was stressed; the team had missed a few opportunities to score and widen the gap, and Elle wouldn’t like the game being this close. Plus her star striker was sidelined. But she wasn’t as fired up as she could have been. Probably because every now and then, she’d lean down to chat with Annalise, who was sitting in a foldout chair, cheering them on, and whenever she spoke with Annalise, Elle’s face would glow.
It had turned out that Annalise wasn’t having a miscarriage on the boat. At first it had seemed like the worst possible news. One of the paramedics had taken Poppy aside and warned her that if she was losing the baby at this early stage, nothing could be done to stop it. But as the water taxi had taken them back to the harbour, the cramps had lessened. The bleeding had stopped. Afterwards, at the hospital, the doctor had simply said, ‘Sometimes these things happen during pregnancy. It was only a very small amount of blood. Could be stress. The cramps might even have been from something she ate.’ All she could really say was that Annalise ought to take it easy throughout the rest of the pregnancy, just in case, but as far as she could see, everything was progressing normally.
Lawrence was also taking the situation really well. Most of the time. He made at least one more attempt once Annalise was back at work to win her back. But then he met Elle when she came to have lunch with Annalise. He took one look at her and said, ‘Yeah, okay, I get it. I’d fall for that chick too.’ Since then he’d thrown himself into preparation dad-mode. He was keen to share custody with Annalise, and she was more than happy with that arrangement. ‘Might be a bit of a weird family,’ she’d said, ‘but it’s still a fuck-load better than what I grew up with.’ It was nice for Poppy to see sweary, honest Annalise back on form.
She never told Annalise that she’d read any of the pages in her notebook. Annalise had opened up to her about her past and she was slowly becoming more and more vulnerable with her emotions. That was more than enough, and Poppy didn’t want to hurt or embarrass her by telling her what she’d read.
The other thing she’d chosen not to tell Annalise was about the call she’d had with Garret recently. She’d decided to keep that one all to herself. He’d phoned out of the blue and when she saw his number on her screen, Poppy’s first instinct was to ignore. But instead she’d taken a deep breath in and she’d answered.
‘Poppy! Sorry . . . I didn’t really expect you to pick up. Assumed I’d get your voicemail.’
‘Yeah, I know. I didn’t think I was going to answer either.’
‘Thank you . . . for taking my call. I appreciate it. Anyway, I just wanted to check in with you . . . see how you are. Karls and I, we treated you so badly, and I really hate that we did that to you. Looking back, we should have handled it all differently. I mean, obviously – not cheating would have been a start, but the way we ambushed you with the news, it was wrong. How are you?’
Poppy had stayed quiet, considering his question. How was she? Really, honestly, deep down, how was she? If she searched inside for that person who’d sat across from her partner and her best friend, for that person who’d felt the shock of betrayal, the loss of a great big chunk of her heart, then sure, it still hurt. The sting was still there. But not in the same way anymore. It wasn’t as sharp, it had dulled around the edges.
‘You know what, Garret?’ she said eventually. ‘I’m fucking awesome.’
‘Oh. That’s . . . that’s great.’
‘And I’m glad that you got what you wanted. I really am.’
There was a pause and she heard an intake of breath.
‘You know what’s funny?’ he said.
‘What?’
‘I’ll never really know what I did want. She fell pregnant the first time I slept with her. I mean, I love our baby girl, of course I do. But I’ll never know for sure what I would have chosen had I been given the choice. I know Karleen was cruel to you as well, when we told you the news, but honestly, she’s not a bad person. It’s just that she was insecure. I think she could tell that I still had my doubts and she was terrified that you’d see through it all. That you’d stop me from leaving. Sometimes I envy you. I envy the way you’ve always been so certain of what you want.’
‘I wouldn’t worry so much about that. I reckon things turned out the way they were meant to.’
Poppy looked again at the sideline and realised someone else was hovering not far from Annalise and Elle, watching the game. It was difficult to tell from this distance, but she was pretty sure she recognised his shape. Jack. They’d had coffee last week after she’d texted him and asked if he’d like to meet up. He’d written back within minutes:
Umm . . . YES! (and here was me thinking I’d struck out with you). Can’t believe you left me hanging so long. Name the where and when.
The date had been nice. Good, easy conversation. Great coffee, which Jack admitted was on a par with his Italian restaurant.
‘So when should we go there so I can try it out?’ Poppy had asked.
‘As soon as possible,’ he’d replied.
When they’d finally stood up and made their way reluctantly out of the coffee shop, Jack had taken hold of Poppy’s hand and held it as they crossed the road to her car. He walked her around to the driver’s side and she was saying goodbye and turning to open the car door when he gently pulled her back to face him again, cupped her face in his hands and kissed her softly on the lips. It was the kind of kiss that made her body tremble and her knees almost give way.
It was the kind of kiss that made her think, This really might work between us.
CHAPTER 35
Annalise didn’t tell Poppy everything.
She told her about her childhood. About her mother and the cult. About the boy she escaped with and that he was the one she fell pregnant to.
But not everything can be shar
ed. She let her make her assumptions about that pregnancy. Poppy had heard her in the bathroom utter the words, ‘Not again.’
There was no need for anyone to know she’d carried that baby to term. No need for anyone else to know she’d failed that baby at such a tender, innocent age. No need for anyone to know about her secret in the bush.
2 September
Are you tired of me telling you these stories? These theories? These nonsensical thoughts?
Do you wish that I would just come right out and say what I need to say to you?
That I would tell you what I should be telling you, every single day?
But if I say what I need to say, does that mean I’ll stop writing to you?
You’ve been here for me for so long. Which is the opposite, isn’t it? I’m supposed to be there for you. I was supposed to protect you.
I’m sorry Opal. I’m so sorry for the way I failed you.
I’m sorry and I love you. With all my heart.
I always will.
I’m waiting now. Waiting to meet your new baby brother, and while I wait, I can promise you this: I will love him fiercely and I will take care of him the way I should have taken care of you. And one day, when Elle and I have grown old together and it’s my time to leave this earth, I’m going to join you wherever you are and the two of us can keep watching over your little brother together.
Now, as Annalise watched her team from the sideline, she jiggled one knee up and down and chewed on her fingernails. She wanted to be out there with them. Elle strode past her, shouting instructions at Rowena, and Annalise caught hold of her hand. ‘Chill,’ she said, ‘They’ve got it in the bag.’
Elle squeezed her hand in response. ‘Yeah, I know. I’ll feel better when the whistle blows though.’ Elle kissed the top of her head and then jogged off down towards their goal end.
‘Hey, brought you this.’
Annalise swivelled around in her chair to see Jack standing behind her, holding out a hotdog. ‘Poppy said you’d probably be starving by the end of the game.’
She stood up and took it off him. ‘Thanks, you just finished playing? How’d you guys go?’
‘Lost in overtime.’ He shrugged. ‘Next year. How’s this game going?’
‘Up by one. They’ll take it home.’ Annalise took a bite of the hotdog and looked sideways at Jack while still keeping an eye on the field. ‘So, this your way of getting in good with the best friend?’
‘Absolutely.’
‘Good start.’ She paused. ‘Just don’t break her heart. You’ll be all good by me.’
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
There is always a huge collection of wonderful people behind the scenes who help bring a book to life and, as such, I’m usually terrified that I will forget to thank someone integral! So, I’ll do my best and if I forget you, please know that I do appreciate your help and/or support.
A huge thank you to everyone from HarperCollins Australia, William Morrow in the USA and Michael Joseph in the UK – including, but not limited to: Anna Valdinger, Carrie Feron, Maxine Hitchcock, Katherine Hassett, Shannon Kelly, Dianne Blacklock and Matilda McDonald. You’ve all made such an incredible impact upon this book and for that I am truly grateful.
Thanks also to my extraordinary agent, Pippa Masson at Curtis Brown, as well as Sheila Crowley at Curtis Brown UK.
As always, much love to Steve Menasse, Maddie Menasse and Piper Menasse – I’m very, very lucky to call you lot my family.
I’m extremely grateful to everyone who answered my questions on all sorts of different subjects, from school mum dramas to hand injuries and paramedic procedures – thank you Catherine Reynolds, Ian Hutchings and Sabeeha Toynton.
A great big thank you to Jaclyn Moriarty for reading an early copy and giving me kind feedback, and also for suggesting that if I just made one small change it would be perfect, but then never ever getting around to telling me what that one small change was.
Hilarious, right? Okay, you can tell me now.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
NICOLA MORIARTY is a Sydney-based novelist, copywriter and mum to two small (but remarkably strong-willed) daughters. In between various career changes, becoming a mum and completing her Bachelor of Arts, she began to write. Now she can’t seem to stop. Her previous works include the bestselling novel The Fifth Letter.
nicolamoriarty.com.au
facebook.com/NicolaMoriartyAuthor
@NikkiM3 (Twitter)
@nicmoriarty (Instagram)
PRAISE FOR THE FIFTH LETTER
‘Younger sister Nicola gives novelists Liane and Jaclyn Moriarty a serious run for the literary awards in this pacey, circle-of-friends thriller, which accelerates in its intensity and sheer originality with every page . . . An Agatha Christie Mousetrap of a “who-wrote-it?” to solve.’
Australian Women’s Weekly
‘A delightful, heartwarming exploration of the twists and turns of true friendship, The Fifth Letter was simply delicious from the very first page to the last . . . Relatable characters, a fast-moving plot and just the right amount of mystery. I was hooked!’
Rachael Johns, Internationally bestselling author
‘A vibrant Australian voice, a compelling story of friendship, love and honesty and a gripping mystery about that fifth letter with twists and turns that begin on the first page and continue until literally the last line make this a six star read. Bravo!’
Tess Woods, Award-winning author of Love at First Flight
‘irresistible . . . You’ll be hard pressed not to giggle and compare these girls to your own besties.’
The Daily Telegraph
‘The Fifth Letter is the modern-day take on Sex and the City meets Neighbours; a fun, sassy, emotional storyline which highlights exactly how damaging secrets can be. A must read that’s for sure!’
The Writing Garnet
‘Lifelong friendships, secrets, and pages I couldn’t turn fast enough. The Fifth Letter is one of my favorite books this year, and Nicola Moriarty is now on my short list of favorite women’s fiction authors.’
Susan Elizabeth Phillips, #1 New York Times bestselling author
‘a delightful romp of a novel that will have you laughing on one page, crying at the next.’
Better Reading
‘Readers . . . will race to the end as a credit to Nicola’s fine sense of pacing and suspense.’
Booklist
ALSO BY NICOLA MORIARTY
Joni, Trina, Deb and Eden.
Best friends since the first day of school. Best friends, they liked to say, forever. But now they are in their thirties and real life – husbands, children, work – has got in the way. So, on their annual trip away, Joni has an idea, something to help them reconnect.
Each woman will write an anonymous letter, sharing the things that are really going on in their lives.
But as the confessions come tumbling out, Joni starts to feel the certainty of their decades-long friendships slip from her fingers.
Anger. Accusations. Desires. Deceit.
Then she finds a fifth letter, one containing a secret so big that its writer had tried to destroy it. And now Joni is starting to wonder, did she ever really know her friends at all?
COPYRIGHT
HarperCollinsPublishers
First published in Australia in 2018
by HarperCollinsPublishers Australia Pty Limited
ABN 36 009 913 517
harpercollins.com.au
Copyright © She Writes Words Pty Ltd 2018
The right of Nicola Moriarty to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted by her under the Copyright Amendment (Moral Rights) Act 2000.
This work is copyright. Apart from any use as permitted under the Copyright Act 1968, no part may be reproduced, copied, scanned, stored in a retrieval system, recorded, or transmitted, in any form or by any means, without the prior written permission of the publisher.
HarperCollinsPublishers
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ISBN 978 1 4607 5331 6 (paperback)
ISBN 978 1 4607 0793 7 (ebook)
A catalogue record for this book is available from the National Library of Australia
Cover design by Hazel Lam, HarperCollins Design Studio
Cover images: Scissors by shutterstock.com
Those Other Women Page 32
