* * *
Trevor stood on a tall ladder, only his long legs showing as the rest of him was poking up through the manhole into the hot, musty ceiling space. With a torch, he shone arcs of light across every conceivable space and dark corner to make doubly sure nothing sinister was living in the roof.
“No evidence anyone has been up here,” his muffled voice called to Tina and Mandy who stood at the feet of the ladder. Even from down there, the heat from inside the roof drizzled upon them.
“Thank God,” Tina said, a hand over her heart.
“There’s a frighteningly large snakeskin left behind, though, and a lot of rat shit.”
Tina cringed, cheeks flushing. “I’ve got some baits under the sink. Hang on a second.” She rushed to the kitchen and retrieved an unopened box. She couldn’t even recall when she had bought them. Probably Chris had years ago.
She passed the box up to Trevor and he threw the rat baits haphazardly across the ceiling space, then climbed down. He closed the manhole lid, making sure it was securely in place. Beads of sweat lined his forehead and dripped down his chest. “Might get some funny smells coming from up there once the vermin start munching on those baits.”
She groaned, a hand on her cheek. “Something to look forward to.”
“But better a dead rat than a live one.”
“Very true.”
Mandy hugged Tina. “I’m sorry we couldn’t be more help.”
“That’s okay. I’m glad that the ceiling theory didn’t turn out to be the right explanation.”
“Me too,” said Mandy.
“Thank you both so much for coming out here. And Trevor, for looking up there for me. I appreciate it.”
Trevor winked, smiled. “Not a drama. Any time you need us, call, okay?”
“I will. Thank you.”
Once Mandy and Trevor left, Tina stood, arms crossed, at the front window and peered out, convincing herself that the locksmith wasn’t going to show as he had promised, and she would have to spend another night alone without the added protection of new, working locks. But soon enough, a white ute with Ando’s Locksmiths printed on the side came roaring up the long, gravel driveway.
The locksmith was grimacing as he parked and climbed out of his ute. The first professional rugby league game of the season was on later that night and he didn’t want to be rushing around before he sat down on his armchair—which after much use now moulded to his backside—to watch it.
But if Tina got chopped up by an axe tonight because he was busting to get home to watch football, he didn’t want to cop the community backlash that would be inevitable, so he had forced himself to drive the twenty minutes out there at the end of a long day.
He was a short, red-faced man with a bulbous double-chin and a huge stomach. As he went around the house, changing the two doors’ locks and inspecting the locks on all the windows to ensure they were fully operational, he was rude and impatient, dismissive of Tina’s fears, and much more concerned with the cold beer waiting in the fridge for when he arrived home.
By the time he was finished, it was almost dark, and he was sweaty and breathing heavily. Tina apologised and was overly thankful, which helped soothe his irritation a little. But the moment he climbed back in his car knowing he had to drive another twenty minutes to get home, his anger had returned afresh.
Tina watched the locksmith speed away along the gravel driveway, kicking up dust and rocks. When the ute turned right at the end of the yard and roared onto the main road, she shut the door and flicked the new locks closed.
Every second with that horrible man had been worth it knowing she had an added level of protection.
Chapter 11
Maddison finished her work-out on the rowing machine, then pottered around the gym, wiping down the elliptical cross trainers and treadmills thoroughly with disinfectant. Still dressed in her knee-length tights and a short crop-top that exposed her protruding ribcage, she drove to the primary school to collect her kids.
Unwilling to mingle yet with the other parents, she waited in the full-to-bursting carpark. As she sat there, hands gripping the steering wheel, her heart beat a strong, fast rhythm. Accompanying her children to their new classrooms that morning and leaving them there had practically destroyed her. She had spent the rest of the day seeking any distraction.
When the afternoon school bell rang, she headed to the shelter shed where she had arranged to meet her children. Riley was first to arrive, his too-big backpack slung over his small shoulders. She studied her son’s face for any grief, any anxiety—all the emotions that were raging through her—but he smiled when their eyes met. She forced herself to mirror that expression as he ran to her and wrapped his arms around her bony hips.
“Hey, Riley, how did you go today?”
“Good.”
“You like your teacher?”
“Yep.”
“Make some new friends?”
He nodded but his gaze was darting around, more interested in the goings-on in the schoolyard rather than Maddison’s worries.
Ruby appeared at the top of the shelter shed and burst into tears. She ran to her mother and wrapped her arms around her, shoving her face into her hip.
“What’s the matter?” Maddison asked.
Ruby looked up, eyes bloodshot and wet. Her lips were twisting. “I want to go back to my other school.”
Maddison crouched so she was at Ruby’s height and cuddled her daughter tight. “I know, sweetie. Did something happen?”
“No, but I like my other friends better.”
“No one was mean to you?”
Ruby shook her head.
“Was the teacher nice?”
Ruby nodded.
“I don’t understand. What are you crying about?”
A sob burst from Ruby’s throat. “I want my old friends.” She was overreacting. Today hadn’t been so bad and she had met some new friends already. A girl called Juniper, who had shown Ruby dance moves. She knew all the words to songs that Ruby hadn’t even heard of. Juniper was such a beautiful name. Juniper had said that she loved Ruby’s name too.
“Oh, honey. I’m sorry. But I promise it will get better. You’ve got to give it a little time.” Maddison held her children’s hands. “Come on, you two. Let’s go home. I’ll make you some afternoon tea and you can sit down and relax.”
Back at the house, Maddison prepared some sandwiches and fruit, presented them on a platter and placed it on the coffee table in front of the television. The kids had calmed down on the way home, talking between themselves about all the facilities their new school had. They were most impressed by the eight-lane twenty-five-metre swimming pool and the basketball court with its strange, soft flooring rather than the gravelly bitumen one at their old school.
But Maddison’s stomach had roiled with guilt for ripping Ruby and Riley out of the school they were comfortable in and putting them in a bigger, public school with lots of unknown faces and all new teachers.
She let her children stream a movie while they ate. When sure they were happier and distracted, Maddison strode up the hall to her bedroom. She closed the door behind her, leaned back against it and groaned.
Her stomach was hollowed out, pained with nerves. Her chest was tight and hot. She was to blame for this. She should have handled the bullying incident like a normal put-together mother instead of running her mouth off at a nine-year-old kid like she was some kind of deranged psychopath.
She marched to the full-length mirror and glared at her reflection. A sickly sensation in her throat to see her horrible body. Short. Ordinary. Her breasts now sagged a little. Wrinkles had formed on her upper arms and the front of her neck. She had creasing in the centre of her chest from sleeping on her side. Her face had aged, lines appearing around her eyes. She clawed at the skin on the sides of her stomach, bunching it into her fists.
“You’re disgusting!” she spat at the mirror. “Horrible, disgusting woman. Old and ugly. No wonder your husba
nd screwed other women when he had you to come home to each night.”
She smacked her forehead with her palm. It stung. Her cheek then, the slap loud in the silent room. A burning pain filled her face. She clenched her fist, punched her cheek with a thud. Her breathing was heavier as she beat herself over and over, grunting, thumping. Both fists now, smashing at her face, hard enough to turn her vision a bright white at the edges.
She barely heard the door open. Her fists fell to her side and she tried to control her breathing. “Yes,” she said, not turning, but her son could see her reflection in the mirror as he pushed his face through the slightly ajar door.
“Mum, can I have a popper, please?”
“Sure,” she said, controlling the rasp of her voice. “You go grab one out of the fridge for yourself and Ruby.”
“Were you hitting your face?” he asked.
Still looking away from him, she closed her eyes. “Of course not. There was a mozzie. It landed on my cheek, so I slapped it away.”
“Did you kill it?” he asked.
She nodded. “Yep.”
The door shut and Riley’s footsteps scampered down the long hall, fading as he drew further away.
Maddison fished her mobile from the pocket in her gym pants and crumbled onto the end of her bed. She dialled her friend, Lucy.
When Lucy answered, she asked, “Keen to go out for drinks tonight?”
* * *
Maddison had spent the afternoon with an ice compress pressed to her face trying to stave off bruising and swelling. A pale purple-green discolouration had surfaced under her eyes and across her cheekbones, but she hid it behind a layer of makeup by the time Ben arrived home from the gym.
He noticed. He always noticed. “What happened to you?” he asked as Maddison changed in the walk-in robe.
“Dermarolling went a little wrong.”
He leaned against the doorframe and crossed his arms. “Dermarolling?”
She nodded, threaded both legs into a tight-fitting pair of jeans.
“Looks like someone gave you a flogging. You sure you’re okay?”
She rolled her eyes. “If someone had given me a flogging, you’d hear about it.”
“If you say so.” He was humouring her to save an argument, but he wasn’t sure how long this could go on before he intervened. What that intervention would look like was beyond him. He was unable to comment, criticise, suggest, sometimes even speak, let alone intervene on something so momentous as his wife hurting herself.
That wasn’t the first time Maddison had done something like this. She constantly worked out to the point of being unable to walk, let alone function properly for the next few days. He had interrupted her dermarolling her legs, concentrating on the one spot until her skin was inflamed, red and bleeding in places. He had noticed patches at the back of her head where she had pulled out chunks of hair.
“You heading out, are you?” he asked, forcing his voice to sound nonchalant.
“With Lucy.”
“Where to?”
She popped her head through her tight t-shirt. It surprised him to see how much weight she had lost over the past couple of years. Maddison had never been tall, but she had once had a fuller body. Now she appeared childlike and it was jarring.
“Dinner. Then drinks somewhere. I don’t know yet.”
He nodded, sighed. “I’ll see you when you get home.”
* * *
Maddison met Lucy at their favourite restaurant that offered great food and cocktails. It was walking distance to a pub that opened late on Thursday nights.
“Hi, gorgeous lady,” Lucy said, hugging Maddison, a huge smile on her heavily made-up face. Lucy was a couple of years younger than Maddison. She once worked as an aerobics instructor at the gym until she had resigned to become a business trainer with one of the local banks. Maddison had been devastated to see her go, but she also couldn’t begrudge Lucy seeking more than a casual salary after her divorce.
Lucy, in a word, was tidy. Long blonde hair. A fit, toned body. Single. One of only two single friends Maddison had.
Maddison had stopped asking her married friends to join her on a Thursday night for drinks. They soon discovered that an alcohol-fuelled bender with Maddison wouldn’t end well. Not that they’d ever admitted that to her. No, they came up with believable excuses instead like sick children, a headache, or a school event they had to attend.
The small restaurant had a dozen or so patrons at that time. Maddison and Lucy were directed to a table for two on the outside deck. A sea breeze gently blew stealing the day’s summer heat. Gladstone didn’t have a roaring weekday nightlife, so the streets below were mostly vacant except for the odd car now and then.
“What happened to you?” Lucy asked, pointing to Maddison’s face.
“It’s not that noticeable, is it?”
“Well, not to someone who doesn’t know you. It looks like you’ve been punched.” Lucy gasped, both hands covering her mouth, eyes widening. “My God, Ben didn’t, did he?”
Maddison waved her hand. “No. No. I tried dermarolling with a longer needle than should be applied to the face. It didn’t end well. Just a bit of swelling.”
“That’s not good, Mads. You’re not to use it again if this’s the result.”
“It’s already in the bin.”
“Good.” Lucy crossed her legs as she reached for the drinks menu. “So, what do you feel like? Should we have a wine or a couple of cocktails?”
Maddison didn’t need to look at the menu to know what she wanted. Something that would be hard-hitting. “A Long-Island iced tea.”
Lucy rolled her head back and laughed boisterously. “I like the way you think.”
A quick trip to the bar and they settled back at their table, drinks at the ready.
“So, fill me in. What’s been happening with you?” Lucy asked. “I feel like we haven’t caught up in ages.”
Three months had passed since they had last had dinner because Lucy had found herself a new boyfriend—a colleague at the bank—who had, understandably, taken up much of her time. But the relationship came to a crashing end a couple of weeks ago.
“Same old,” Maddison said. “Except, I did change the kids’ school. I wasn’t happy with the one they were at. There was a bullying incident the school didn’t handle well. Ruby and Riley enjoyed their first day at North-West today. It’s leaps and bounds ahead of the other school—it has a pool and a really good music program. Breanna, from our gym, do you remember her?”
Lucy squinted as she thought. “Yes, I think so.”
“All three of her kids go there. She recommended it highly.”
“I’m glad they’re fitting in well. So, what was the bullying incident?”
“Just some horrible little girls being mean to Ruby.”
“Poor Ruby. Is she okay?”
“Perfectly fine. I sorted it all out. And she’s made some great new friends already. Best move I’ve made.”
“I’m so happy to hear that.”
Maddison rested her elbows on the tabletop, leaned over her straw and sipped her cocktail. “How about you? No word from Justin since the big breakup?”
An eye roll. “He texts now and then. But I stand firm that we’re over.” Lucy shrugged. “We weren’t too serious to start with in all honesty. We’d only been seeing each other for a few months. He’s acting like we’d already tied the knot.”
“How are things at work? Not too tense?”
Lucy waved her hand dismissively. “It’s tough sometimes. But he’s going to have to get over it. Or leave. The latter would be nice.”
Maddison laughed. “No one new on your radar?”
Lucy grinned. “Free as a bird.”
A deep pulse in Maddison’s stomach. Sometimes—more and more as the years rolled by—she wished she were free as a bird. But she wasn’t naive enough to know that she wasn’t in the best mental shape. Supporting herself and two children, even holding down a full-time job
outside of the gym, was near impossible.
The more she fell apart, the more imprisoned she was in her marriage. And the more imprisoned she became, the more she fell apart. As time passed, it seemed increasingly difficult to ever break the downward spiral she had fallen into.
Maddison hid her discontent. Even though Lucy was one of her best friends, Maddison did not reveal her inner torment to the rest of the world unless her emotions broke loose like they had in the principal’s office. “Plenty of fish in the sea.”
Lucy laughed. “We’re talking about Gladstone here. Unless some twenty-five-year-old tradie wants to hook up with a forty-year-old woman, the second-hand pickings are slim. There’re reasons women leave their first husbands. I don’t want to be the sucker second-wife who gets the new and improved version until the man is comfortable again and lets his belly out.”
“I hear ya.” Although, Maddison quite liked the idea of becoming complacent in a relationship. She quite liked the notion of relaxing into her own body and not trying so hard to meet some real or imagined expectation. She quite liked the delusion she often fantasised about that she and Ben had made it to those heights in their marriage rather than the cold reality she endured each day.
She sucked deeply on her straw until her glass was empty. By the time she arrived at the bottom of her third Long Island iced tea, the restaurant was slightly wavery around her. When she spoke, she had to sound her words around her thick tongue.
“Should we eat?” Maddison asked. “I’ll be on the floor if we don’t mop up some of this alcohol with food.”
Lucy held her hand in the air to catch the attention of a waiter across the other side of the room. He saw her and marched over. A young man—maybe twenty-one. Tall, fit-looking.
“Well, hello,” Lucy said, eyeing him up and down.
His neck flushed pink. “Are you ready to order?”
“That depends what’s on the menu,” Maddison said, grinning and the tip of her tongue moving against her straw.
He cleared his throat, leaned between them and opened the menu. “All in there. Let me know when you’re ready.” And he strode away.
All That Was Left Unsaid Page 7
