The Art of Friendship

by Lisa Ireland

  Chapter 31

  Someone had given Libby a blanket. She couldn’t remember who, but she was glad of it right now as she sat next to Kit on the hard plastic seats in the emergency department, where the wind whipped through each time someone entered or exited through the automatic glass doors. The police had questioned them both. Kit was great, calm and confident, but Libby was a mess and couldn’t stop crying. Cam had put an end to the questioning when he arrived. He’d run in, thrown his arms around her, and then used lawyer speak to inform the police officer that his wife was in no fit state to answer his questions right now. He’d bustled her into a chair, telling the officers that she would be happy to make full statements at the police station the next morning should that be necessary. He rubbed her back, the way he used to when they were first married and she was sick or upset. ‘God, Lib, I was so bloody scared something had happened to you, I can’t even . . .’ His voice was ragged with emotion and hearing it brought fresh tears to her eyes.

  John arrived a couple of minutes after Cam – apparently they’d come together and John was parking the car. After checking on Kit, John disappeared in search of coffee for them all. Cam kissed the top of Libby’s head, as tenderly as if she were a newborn babe, and then went to the nurses’ station to find out what was going on with Alli.

  Libby slipped her hand over Kit’s and squeezed. ‘Thank God you were there with me. You were bloody fantastic.’

  Kit squeezed back. ‘We still make a good team, you and me.’

  Libby nodded. ‘Yeah, we do. Kit, I’m sorry about –’

  ‘Let’s not. Not now. Maybe not ever.’ Kit shook her head. ‘It’s probably enough to say we’ve both made some mistakes. Can we just agree to move on?’

  Libby placed her head on Kit’s shoulder for a moment. ‘Agreed.’ There’d been enough drama for one evening and after what had happened her grievances with Kit seemed trivial at best. ‘So, what happened to Greg?’

  ‘He’s in a private waiting room. I think there’s a police officer with him.’

  ‘But this wasn’t actually his fault, was it? I mean, the paramedics said it was an overdose, so technically Alli did this to herself, even if it was Greg’s behaviour that drove her to it.’

  Kit shook her head. ‘What about her broken arm? And did you see the bruises on her stomach and legs? That man is an abuser. There’s a history, and this incident alone has all the hallmarks of family violence. If Alli doesn’t make it, her blood is on his hands. I have no doubt.’

  ‘Do you think they’ll lay charges?’

  Kit sighed. ‘Probably not, if past experience is anything to go by, but if Alli recovers, I hope this incident might be the catalyst for her to get away from that prick.’

  The automatic sliding doors opened and John walked towards them carrying a tray of takeaway coffees. He handed one to Kit, and Libby saw the tender look that passed between them. ‘Sorry, Libby, I had no idea what to get you. There’s a latte if you want it or a hot chocolate if you prefer. I wasn’t sure if coffee was your thing or not.’

  Maybe this guy wasn’t quite as awful as she’d thought. ‘Latte is perfect, John. Thank you.’

  ‘Sugar?’

  She shook her head. ‘I’m sweet enough, isn’t that right, Kit?’

  Kit laughed. ‘If you say so.’

  Cam approached them then. ‘Alli’s doing better, but they’ve intubated her and taken her up to intensive care. It sounds like she’ll be okay, but she won’t be up for visitors for a few days probably. I’m thinking we might as well go home.’

  The thought of leaving Alli here all by herself broke Libby’s heart. ‘I don’t know about that. Will she be safe here? I mean, if they’re not going to lay charges against Greg . . .’

  Cam’s brow creased in confusion. ‘Greg? Why would the police charge him because Alli took an overdose?’

  Libby realised neither Greg nor John knew the whole story. ‘Apparently Greg has a history of violence towards Alli.’

  Cam shook his head. ‘Are you serious?’

  ‘We’re deadly serious,’ Kit said. ‘She’s got a broken arm and extensive bruising – all in places that are easily covered up, and there’s other stuff too that’s maybe not as obvious unless you’re looking for it.’

  Cam paled visibly and he looked at Libby for confirmation. ‘Did you know about this?’

  She shook her head. ‘Not until tonight, no. But in hindsight it totally makes sense.’

  ‘Fuck. What an arsehole. How could he do such a thing?’ He looked perplexed. ‘But why would she stay?’

  Kit shrugged. ‘There are many reasons women stay. For their kids, because they don’t have the means to leave or because their partner threatens them, or threatens to hurt their loved ones. My bet is that’s what happened to Alli’s dog tonight. It’s not uncommon for abusers to kill their partner’s pets.’

  ‘Shit, really? He told me earlier tonight the dog had died. Said Alli was upset because she’d tripped over it and the dog had tumbled down the stairs and broken its neck. He said she was distraught . . . are you sure that’s not what happened?’

  ‘I can’t be one hundred per cent positive about what went on tonight. The only people who know for sure are Alli and Greg.’

  Libby nodded. ‘I guess we’ll have to wait until Alli’s well enough to tell us what happened.’

  Kit made a face. ‘If she tells the truth.’

  Libby looked up from her coffee. ‘What do you mean?’

  Kit sighed. ‘Don’t be surprised if she supports Greg’s version of what happened. If she does it will be almost impossible for the police to lay charges.’

  ‘But what about her broken arm and bruising? Surely they suspect something’s up?’

  ‘Even if they suspect him they need evidence to make their case. And his story about the dog explains her injuries. He’ll probably assert that she broke her arm when she tripped. If Alli supports Greg’s statement then that will be the end of it. Even if the police don’t believe him.’

  Libby’s eyes filled with tears. ‘That’s outrageous. We have to convince her. Tell her we’ll support her. I can’t bear to think of her spending one more minute with that man.’

  Cam sat down in the chair next to her and put his arm around her. ‘I’m sure she’ll be fine, Lib. Greg can’t hurt her while she’s in here. They watch the intensive care patients like hawks.’

  ‘Cam’s right. She’ll be okay while she’s in here. We’ll just have to wait and see what happens after that. There’s not really much else we can do for now.’

  Libby hated the thought there was nothing more she could do. ‘What about the girls? Has someone told them? Should one of us call the school? They’ll probably want to come home to see their mum.’

  ‘Surely that’s up to Greg,’ Cam said.

  Libby shrugged. ‘Who knows what Greg will do? Don’t you think the girls have a right to know?’

  ‘I don’t think it’s our place to decide that, Lib,’ Cam said gently.

  ‘Are the girls at boarding school?’ John asked.

  ‘Yes, the twins are boarders at Braeton Grammar School, with Harry,’ Libby replied.

  ‘I know the principal there. We used to teach together in fact. I’d be happy to call him and give him an unofficial heads up. It’s probably best for all concerned if he has as much background to the situation as possible, for the girls’ wellbeing, I mean.’

  Kit crumpled up her empty coffee cup and nodded. ‘Yeah, I think that’s a good idea. I’ll go in to work tomorrow. I can access Alli’s file from my computer there. I can’t get into it from my laptop at home. I’ll let you know if there’s anything pertinent you should make him aware of.’

  Libby looked at her. ‘Are you allowed to give out that information?’

  ‘No, I’m not. But I’m so sick of this shit. Bastards like Greg get away wit
h murder, literally murder, every day of the week and the people working in the field are powerless to do anything about it. I’m sick of rules that don’t help anyone. I would never share any of Alli’s personal information for any reason other than to help her or her girls. So if there’s something in there I think the school needs to know, I’ll be passing that on.’

  ‘Absolutely,’ Cam said. ‘I’m a hundred per cent with you on this one, Kit.’ He looked at Libby. ‘I really think we should go. Are you okay to drive?’

  ‘Yeah, I’m fine.’ She looked at Kit. ‘Do you two want to come to our place for a drink and a debrief?’

  Kit shook her head. ‘No, thanks all the same, but I just want to go home and get out of these ridiculous clothes. I think I’ll have a bath, a shot of whiskey and crawl into bed.’

  Libby kissed her lightly on the cheek. ‘Sounds like a plan to me.’

  *

  Kit was not the slightest bit surprised when Libby called her at work on Tuesday to say that Alli was awake and had apparently corroborated Greg’s story. She’d hoped that it would turn out otherwise, but in her heart she’d known that it probably wouldn’t. She’d searched Alli’s file for something that could be used against Greg, but there was nothing conclusive. Nothing that would stand up in a court of law.

  On the phone Libby was full of indignation and plans to make Alli change her mind.

  ‘My advice is to let her know she has your support no matter what. Be careful not to push her too hard, or she might withdraw from you altogether. I know this is hard to accept, Lib, but it’s Alli’s choice – all we can do is let her know there are options for her and that we will support her choices.’

  ‘There must be something else we can do?’

  ‘Believe me, if there was anything I could think of I’d be doing it. Please give her my love when you see her.’

  ‘You’re not going to visit her?’

  ‘No, not unless she specifically asks to see me. Alli’s your friend, Lib, not mine. I’ve already crossed a whole heap of boundaries in regard to her. And to be honest I don’t think she’ll want to see me. Don’t be surprised if she doesn’t want to see you either. My guess is that she’s feeling pretty humiliated right now. Victims of abuse often push those closest to them away. If that happens, try to be understanding. Don’t expect too much. Hopefully she’ll come around because she needs people like you in her life.’

  Kit ended the call because Maureen was lingering outside her office door. Once she put the phone down Maureen spoke. ‘Can I have a word?’

  When she closed the office door, Kit knew what was coming next.

  *

  It took surprisingly little time to pack up her office at the end of the day. Most of her personal items could fit into one box. She had never been one to fill her desk with all that sentimental crap others seemed to favour. Maybe it was because she wasn’t a mother, or maybe she just wasn’t wired that way. Either way it made her exit from the centre as quick and painless as it could possibly have been.

  She’d known all along that her transgression was not one that could be overlooked. She’d acted unprofessionally, first by discussing Alli’s status as a client with Libby, and then by accessing Alli’s files and passing on information to John. (Not that Maureen knew that she’d shared anything with John, but she knew.) Even attending Alli’s home without first alerting a counsellor and seeking advice was a breach of the centre’s protocol. Of course it pained Maureen to have to bring up sanctions with her; Kit had saved her the humiliation of having to spell them out by tendering her resignation immediately. The decision to do so had come easily in the end. She was burnt out from working in this field where, despite everything she and her co-workers tried to do, the outcome for their clients often was often less than optimal. She knew the work they did was important and made a difference to many women, but it was beginning to take a personal toll. It was time to step back for a bit and let someone less jaded fill her shoes, at least for a while. Standing on the platform at Flinders Street she felt lighter and happier than she had in a long time.

  As she sat on the train she made her second life-changing decision for the day, and in doing so she missed her stop. Fortunately John’s place wasn’t too far from Williamstown station, so she got off there and walked the short distance. She put the box down on his doorstep and knocked, hoping he didn’t have an after school meeting tonight. She hadn’t bothered to ring ahead, nor did she have a key. She heard the skittering of paws on the polished floorboards first, followed by heavy footsteps.

  ‘Sit!’ came John’s command as he pulled open the door. ‘Well, hello. I wasn’t expecting you tonight. To what do I owe this unexpected pleasure?’

  She picked up the box and handed it to him.

  He looked perplexed. ‘What’s this?’

  ‘The beginning,’ she replied, and walked on into her new home.

  Spring

  Chapter 32

  Kit stood in the street supervising the removalists loading her things into the truck. She’d finally managed to sort through everything and had whittled her keepsakes down to just half a dozen archive boxes and suitcases full of Jude’s clothing that she couldn’t bear to part with. John’s place wasn’t huge, but it had two bedrooms and he’d made space in a wardrobe in the spare room for her boxes. She was taking a few pieces of furniture – the half-round crystal cabinet, her bed and the side tables her grandfather had made by hand. She donated almost everything else to a local asylum seeker support group. It wasn’t like she and Jude had ever had fancy things, and she thought her mum would approve of her belongings going to the less fortunate.

  ‘Excuse me, Kit?’ One of the removalists beckoned her back into the house.

  ‘Yes?’

  ‘I need you to come and look at something in one of the bedrooms. I’m afraid our trainee has mucked up and managed to catch the corner of a box on one of your paintings. The packaging is torn and I’m not sure if the artwork is damaged or not. Would you be able to come and have a look so I can fill out an incident report? If there’s any damage we’ll file an insurance claim and reimburse you for it.’

  Kit’s heart sank. Libby’s paintings. She should have asked her to collect them before the move, but somehow it had seemed provocative to do so. She sighed. ‘Okay. Where is it?’

  ‘It’s in the second bedroom.’

  Kit found the painting and then dismissed the removalist. ‘I’ll need a little while to unwrap this and assess whether there is any damage. You might as well keep on working. I’ll let you know if there are any issues.’

  When he’d left Kit shut the door and took a deep breath. There was indeed a large tear in the packaging. There was no way to know if the painting itself was damaged. She probably should call Libby and let her know, so she could come and check the painting herself, but . . .

  Maybe it was the wrong thing to do, but here was her opportunity to finally look at Libby’s work. The removalists were nearly done here and they probably didn’t have all day to be waiting for Libby to arrive. Who knew if she’d even answer the phone if Kit did call? And the painting did need to be checked. It wasn’t as if Kit was just sneaking a peek for no reason.

  Once her decision was made she wasted no time in carefully removing the outer bubble wrap and then peeling back the brown paper. What she saw next took her breath away.

  She sat the painting against the wall and took a few steps back so she could view it properly.

  The image was captivating. It depicted a naked woman standing in front of an open wardrobe, staring into it. The figure looked remarkably like Libby, although at first Kit couldn’t be sure, as the painting was of the woman’s back and her face was not visible. She stood on bare timber floorboards and scattered around her feet were a number of discarded garments. As she looked at the clothes Kit’s suspicions that Libby had painted a self-portrait were confirmed. Most of th
e clothes – which had been painted in intricate detail – were recognisable to Kit: Libby’s wedding dress, a pair of khaki capris and a white t-shirt that Libby had nicknamed ‘The Mum Uniform’ when Harry was little, and a pink jumper that Contrary Mary had knitted her. There was also a black negligee hanging over an armchair and several pairs of undies and bras strewn around the room.

  It was an amazing piece of art – beautiful and yet somehow unsettling. Compelling, in fact. Kit had no idea Libby was so talented. Of course she’d expected her work to be good – Libby had always been artistic – but this, well, this was something else. No wonder Libby’s teacher had encouraged her to exhibit. If the rest of her work was as good as this piece it would be a shame to keep it hidden away.

  Thankfully, the painting appeared to have escaped any damage, which was a huge relief – especially now that she’d seen how good it was. She bent down to retrieve the bubble wrap from the floor so she could re-wrap the painting, and as she did so a small detail caught her eye. There beside the fluffy pink jumper was a necklace. Kit placed her hand over her mouth as she recognised the pendant dangling from its silver chain.

  Half a heart bearing the word ‘Forever’.

  *

  Libby parked her new BMW in one of Williamstown’s tree-lined streets and checked her phone to make sure she had the address right: 75A. Yep, this was it. She looked at the modern townhouse, with its smooth grey render and glossy black trims, and marvelled at the fact that Kit lived here now. It seemed hard to believe that she would choose this place over her family home, but she had. And she’d chosen John.

  She thrummed her fingers on the steering wheel while she tried to get up the courage to go knock on the door. Butterflies swirled in her stomach. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d felt this level of nervous anticipation. Maybe when she was at school and she’d asked Simon Turner from St James’ College to be her partner for the combined schools’ formal. Actually, that hadn’t turned out so well. He’d said no. But hopefully today’s mission would be more successful. She knew Kit, knew what made her tick, and Libby was sure that what she had planned would be just the thing to bridge the gap that had formed between them since the party.