“Why? To rub my nose in it? Man, that’s fucked up, even for Evan.”
“No, of course not. I want to apologise.”
“For fucking my boyfriend?”
Kate lowered her head. This was not as simple as she had hoped it might be. For a moment neither woman spoke, and the only sound was that of the music thrumming through the walls, making the furniture rattle.
Finally, Yumiko said, “Who are you?”
Kate gave a bitter laugh. “I wish I knew,” she murmured. She ran her fingers through her hair, then said, “My name’s Kate. Kate Hens… Kate Morgan.” It was the first time she had used her maiden name since her split with Lawrence. The word felt round, juicy, sustaining. She paused, savouring the taste — familiar, comforting, like a home-cooked meal — before continuing. “We met snowboarding. I thought he was cute, so I gave him my number. It didn’t work out.”
“Looked like it worked out all right to me.”
“It wasn’t like that, honest.” She puffed her cheeks out, exhaling sharply. “Do you mind if I sit down? It’s been a long day.”
Yumiko frowned, folding her arms across her chest. After a moment she shrugged. “I guess.”
Kate lowered herself to the floor beside the bed, leaning against the wall. She brought her knees up, hugging them. “I found out my husband… my ex-husband, was cheating on me. That’s why I chased Evan in the first place. It wasn’t about him, not really — I just wanted to get back at Lawrence. We went on a couple of dates. They were nice — I liked him — but… he didn’t feel the same, I guess. He broke it off. And then Lawrence came sniffing around again, saying he was sorry, that he’d ended the affair and wanted another chance…”
She closed her eyes, the memory biting. “I’m sorry… I’m sure you don’t want to hear about my marital woes.” She fell quiet, scratching at a spot on her boots. The house shook with every bass note of the music, the vibrations moving through the walls into her spine, from the floor into her buttocks.
“No, you’re right, I don’t,” said Yumiko icily. “Where were they?”
“Pardon?”
“Your dates. Where did you go?”
“Cromwell. At the pub, the first time. And then he came round to my place for lunch, a few days later.”
Yumiko raised her eyebrows. “You live in Cromwell?”
“Uh-huh.”
“I see,” said Yumiko, nodding gently. “It makes sense now. Wow, he really is a lying bastard.”
“He was confused. We both were.”
Yumiko’s lip curled in disgust. “That’s no excuse. Did you know he had a girlfriend?”
“No. I should have guessed I suppose, but I was too busy enjoying the fantasy.”
“So he lied to you, too.”
“Yes,” said Kate, lifting her eyes to the ceiling. Flakes of paint hung loose, drooping sadly, and a trail of mould spots snaked from the corner of the room out above her head, where they bloomed into a chubby cloud.
“So it was date number three,” continued Yumiko, “where it all came together? In my house. In my bed.” She spat the last two sentences, each word a bullet.
Kate shook her head. “No. It wasn’t a date. He’d broken it off.”
“Then how did you end up in bed together?”
“It’s complicated.”
“Do tell,” said Yumiko with a derisive snort.
Sighing, Kate said, “Evan was at work. He’d met Lawrence in Cromwell the day he came for lunch. I’d told him about Lawrence wanting another chance with me. And then Evan saw him up the mountain kissing this girl… so he called me up to tell me.”
“Okay, so your ex is a scumbag. Then what? Evan invites you over for a pity fuck?”
Kate pressed her thumb and forefinger to her eyelids, drawing them together. Hearing herself talk, she realised how silly and melodramatic it all sounded, like a daytime soap opera — no wonder Yumiko wasn’t convinced.
Still, she’d come this far; she had to forge on. “No, I told you, it wasn’t like that. I asked him to meet me. He didn’t want to but I twisted his arm. I wanted to know if it was her — the same woman Lawrence had been having the affair with. I assumed it was but I wanted confirmation. Evan said he had a photo of them together, and I—”
“What? Why would he have a photo of them?”
“From the photo booth. Evan saw it on the display stand and asked if he could have it. It seems silly, I know, but I needed to see it. I wanted to be sure. And…” Kate paused, noting Yumiko’s sceptical expression. If there was a victim in this situation, it was her. She deserved the truth. “I… I wanted to see him again.”
“Ahh,” said Yumiko. “There we have it.” She nodded slowly, a bitter smile sliding across her lips. “So then you worked your womanly charms and fucked his brains out, huh?”
“No,” said Kate, frowning. “I wanted to see him, sure, but I never intended to sleep with him. I planned to drive straight home afterwards. And I would’ve, too, if our drinks hadn’t been spiked.”
“Pardon?”
“Our drinks were spiked. That’s how we got so wasted, why I couldn’t drive home.”
“Bullshit,” snarled Yumiko. “You expect me to believe that?”
“It’s true. Darryl just admitted it.”
“Who the fuck is Darryl?”
“Aussie guy. Friend of Evan’s. Well, not a friend I guess, since he drugged us, but they used to live together in Brisbane. Jamie knows him too. He’s here tonight.”
“What the fuck?” Yumiko’s head was tilted, one eyebrow raised, but then she straightened, snapping her head back. “Wait, Darryl… I think I know him… big nose? Acne scars?”
“That’s him.”
“And he said he drugged you?”
“Uh-huh, just before. He bumped into me on the dance floor, spilling his drink everywhere, and was all like, You know the other night at the hotel? Jamie and I spiked your drinks, ha-ha. Did you have a good time? No shame whatsoever. I was so angry I kneed him in the balls.”
“What? Jamie was there too?”
Kate nodded. “Darryl told me he likes you and wanted Evan out of the way.”
Yumiko slumped against the headboard, exhaling slowly. Then she frowned, as though struck by a thought. “Did Jamie know you spent the night with Evan?”
Kate shrugged. “I don’t know. It’s possible I guess. I’m not sure how—”
“I’ll bet he did. I was going to walk home that morning but he was weirdly insistent on dropping me off. What a psycho,” she said, scowling at Kate, her eyes piercing.
Unable to hold her gaze, Kate scanned the room, her eyes coming to rest on a large black and white poster on the wall opposite her. A man’s face, brooding and skeletal, stared off into the distance, the words Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds written in capitals beneath. He looked how she felt.
“Do you want him?” Yumiko’s voice cut through her reverie.
“Pardon?” Kate squirmed, the skin beneath her wet blouse itching.
“Evan. Do you want him?”
FORTY-SEVEN
It was a good question. Do I? She wanted to go, right now, back to his house to see him, but that was just so she could talk to him about Darryl’s revelation, wasn’t it? It didn’t mean she wanted him. How could she, after the way he’d treated her? She reached beneath her collar, scratching the itch. “Would I be sitting here if I did?”
The door flew open, releasing a surge of music and the body of Jamie, dragging Darryl along by the collar of his shirt. “You!” he roared, pointing at Kate as Darryl fell to his knees. “What did you tell her?”
“Leggo,” croaked Darryl, pawing at Jamie’s hand.
“Shut-up.” Jamie glared at Darryl, then took a step towards Kate, his face contorting violently. “What’ve you told Yumi?”
Kate shrank back against the wall. “Nothing. I—”
“She told me you drugged her,” said Yumiko.
“She’s lying,” he said, taking another step c
loser. “Darryl was just having her on. Weren’t you?”
“Ssure,” Darryl gasped, Jamie’s hand clenched at his throat.
Another figure hurtled into the room, tripped over and collapsed to the floor with a muffled thud. A moment later Evan’s head popped over the foot of the bed. “Yumi!” he cried, grinning madly.
Kate pushed herself up the wall as Jamie let go of Darryl and rushed at Evan. “Leave her alone!” he barked.
Evan barely managed to turn his head before Jamie’s kick caught him in the stomach and sent him rolling. Jamie came at him again but somehow Evan was faster, launching forward, wrapping his arms round Jamie’s legs in a perfect rugby tackle that sent him crashing to the floor. Evan rolled away and both men scrambled to their feet, facing off.
A small group of party-goers piled through the door, Noemie in the lead. “Stop it!” she screamed, “You’ll break something!”
As if spurred into action by Noemie’s words, Darryl surged forward, with Kate taking a tentative step behind him. As they did so Jamie lunged at Evan, swinging a wild roundhouse. Evan ducked and Jamie’s fist connected with Darryl’s nose. There was an audible crack and a spray of blood and Darryl went flying backwards. Kate twisted out of his way as he came hurtling down, hitting the floor at her feet.
“My fuckin' nose!” he howled, clutching his hands to his face. Kate stepped on him, ramming her boot into his groin.
“There you go,” she said smugly. “Now your nose won’t hurt so much.”
Kate forced her way past the group to see Jamie’s arm wrap around Evan’s neck. Evan swivelled out of the headlock and punched Jamie in the stomach. Jamie countered with a punch of his own, catching Evan in the mouth, splitting his lip open. Jamie swung again, hitting Evan in the side of the head. He staggered back, spitting blood, then crouched and rushed at Jamie, leading with his shoulder again, his momentum throwing Jamie backwards, off balance.
She watched, the moment captured in slow motion, as Jamie fell, arms flailing, crashing down onto the coffee table. The glass shattered on impact, diamond shards glittering in the light spilling from the hallway, the wooden frame splintering beneath him. Time sped up and he hit the floor with a sickening thud and then lay there, groaning.
“My coffee table!” screamed Noemie, rounding on Evan. “Look what you’ve done!”
Jamie rose from his bed of glass and splinters, wincing. “My back!” He twisted, his white shirt in shreds, a pattern of red flecks growing and spreading.
From behind Kate came an agonised whine. “Christ,” croaked Darryl, “my balls...”
A dark figure detached itself from the gathered crowd, and Kate saw it was the same woman who had assisted her earlier, out on the deck. She crouched next to Jamie and, like a monkey grooming for lice, ran her fingers lightly over his back, then plucked at his skin, extracting a shard of glass and an accompanying squeal. She held it up for closer inspection, and for a moment Kate thought she might continue the comparison by eating it, but then she cast it aside and plucked another one.
“Fuck!” roared Jamie, writhing in pain. “What have you done to me?”
“Me?” snapped Evan. “You started it!”
“I think someone should call an ambulance. This is pretty bad,” said the woman, pulling another jagged triangle from Jamie’s back.
“That’s all I need,” said Jamie, grunting. The volume of the music suddenly fell away and the house stopped shaking. More people filed into the room.
Scowling at Evan, Jamie said, “Thanks for ruining my party.”
“Ruining it? I was only looking for Yumi.”
“Bullshit. You came looking for trouble.” Another grunt, another shard of glass.
Evan turned to Yumiko, who now stood at the edge of the bed, pale and shaking. Kate watched as they stared at each other, the expressions on their faces so stricken and forlorn she felt the urge to hug them both. If she’d thought she was living in a soap opera before, there was no doubting it now.
“I’m sorry, Yumi, I—”
“Why are you apologising to her? It’s my coffee table you’ve smashed.”
Evan ignored Noemie’s interjection. “I didn’t mean this to happen. I… I… just wanted to say I love you.”
“Love her?” Jamie’s expression was incredulous. “I’m the one who loves her.”
“You?” Evan snorted. “Don’t be ridiculous. The only person you love is yourself.”
“I do so! And I would never treat her the way you have.”
“Stop it!” cried Yumiko. “As if I’d want either of you. You’re both fuckin' idiots!” With tears in her eyes, she pushed through the crowd of onlookers and fled the room.
“Yumi!” Evan moved to follow her.
Noemie’s hand on his jacket yanked him back. “Don’t you dare!” She glared at him, then slid her hand down his arm, the knife edges of her scowl fading. “You’ll only make it worse,” she said softly. “I’ll go after her.”
The crowd closed, thrusting Kate towards him. Evan gawked at her as if noticing her for the first time. She gave him a friendly wave and his jaw dropped open, but no sounds emerged.
“Poor girl doesn’t even have her shoes,” said Noemie, crouching by the bed to gather Yumiko’s sneakers. As she moved towards the door the crowd parted, exposing a groaning Darryl, his hand clutched over his face. Noemie stepped over him. “Anyone called an ambulance yet?”
For a moment no one spoke, the mob paralysed by inertia. Kate fumbled in her handbag for her phone and was about to say that she would when Jamie’s nurse broke the silence.
“Can someone give me a hand here? All this blood’s gonna stain the carpet.”
FORTY-EIGHT
“Ow! That stings.”
“Hold on, I’m almost done.” Kate wiped the last of the blood away and inspected the cut. It was deep and Evan’s lip had swollen like an overripe tomato. “He got you pretty good.”
“I probably deserved it.”
The fight and the silent drive home seemed to have sobered him up. Seated on a stool in the kitchen back at his flat, Evan gingerly touched his mouth and winced, teeth clenched. “Do you think he’ll be okay?”
“It didn’t look like he’d severed any major arteries. Lucky for you.”
He looked up at her. “Thanks for driving me home”.
She flashed a thin smile. He’d been anything but thankful on the street outside Jamie’s house when she’d snatched his keys and dropped them down her bra. “Well, I wasn’t going to let you drive yourself.”
He dropped his head, staring at the floor, a statue carved from shame. “I’ve really fucked things up, haven’t I?” he said bitterly.
“Uh-huh. Jamie won’t want to play in the sandpit with you now.”
“No, not Jamie. He’ll get over it. I mean with Yumiko.”
She shrugged. “Probably. If it was me…” Much as she hated to admit it, there was a part of her that was taken with his knight in shining armour act, the last desperate attempt to proclaim his love for his damsel in distress, and if it had been her rather than Yumiko she might have enjoyed it — if he’d been sober. As it was… “Well, it was a stupid thing to do. Why couldn’t you have just stayed here like I told you to?”
He gave a doleful sigh. “I’m sorry. I wasn’t thinking.”
“No kidding.” She placed her hand on his shoulder. “Still, maybe all isn’t lost. I discovered something interesting at the party.”
“What?”
“Darryl made a confession. You know how we were both so out of it the other night?”
“Yeah?”
“He told me he spiked our drinks. Him and Jamie.”
He frowned at her, his brow furrowing, then stood so suddenly his stool fell over. Raising a fist, he said, “I fuckin' knew it! There’s no way we should’ve been so wasted. With what? Did he say?”
“Roofies, apparently, whatever they are.”
His eyes widened. “Rohypnol. It’s a date-rape drug.”
“I’m gonna fuckin' kill him.”
“Who? Jamie or Darryl?”
“Does it matter?” he asked, quivering, the muscles in his jaw stretched tight
Sighing, she placed her hand on his arm, pressing it to his side. “No, you’re not,” she said, shaking her head. “What’s done is done.” She held his arm, looking into his eyes, until finally he relaxed, his shoulders dropping, fists unclenching. He picked the stool up from the floor and lowered himself onto it.
“You’re right,” he said, nodding slowly. He straightened, drawing a long breath, his lips pursed, then exhaled sharply. “You know, Kate,” he said, “I’ve got a confession of my own to make.” He met her eyes again, his expression serious. “Sleeping with you means I’ve now cheated on every single girlfriend I’ve ever had. Every time the going gets a little rough my eyes start to wander. If I was Yumiko I wouldn’t want me back.”
Kate held his gaze. As far as confessions went it wasn’t that surprising. She supposed she should be upset, but given everything else that had happened Evan’s past moral failings were a minor consideration and she just didn’t have the energy. “So you’re a slut,” she said. “There’s worse things. Maybe that’s what this is all about. Maybe it’s God’s way of telling you that you need to work on yourself before you can expect to be happy with anyone else.”
“Do you believe in God?”
It wasn’t the response she had expected. She pondered his question, scratching her neck and adjusting the collar of her blouse, which had almost dried in the heat of Evan’s flat. Did she? The evidence for and against hadn’t changed, but what had once seemed so clear to her was now murky, opaque, unconvincing. Looking back on the events of the last couple of months — of her entire life, if she were being truthful — it was all so petty. So human. It was hard to conceive of it unfolding beneath the guiding hand of a higher power.
“I did. I’m not sure anymore,” she said quietly. “What about you?”
Taking the Plunge Page 29
