The Things We Never Knew

by Megan Mayfair

  Either way, Bebe and Michelle were both post-break-up, and they could comfort each other and revel in this weird, shared connection they had via their parents. It was almost cosmic that they’d become friends.

  Rallied, she settled in front of the television, flicking the channels while she waited for Bebe, satisfied that a night out was the best course of action.

  Her phone beeped. Bebe wants you to follow her trip! It was a message from Uber. Michelle examined the map. It wasn’t too far. She wouldn’t be far off. Switching off the television, she placed her empty vodka glass in the dishwasher.

  The sound of a car pulling up and with a message arriving on her phone that Bebe had arrived, Michelle opened the door.

  Bebe emerged from the car with a garment bag, and once again, Michelle’s expectations grew as she saw the violet-coloured dress her friend was wearing. It was short, showing off Bebe’s long legs, and had a fringe, giving it a flapper-style. It was matched with a little black jacket and purple Doc Martens. She looked like a roaring twenties biker chick.

  Bebe gave a wide smile and shook the garment bag as Michelle opened the door for her. “I don’t want to sound arrogant, but, hey, I don’t care because this is perfect for you.”

  “Really?”

  Inside the living room, Bebe ran the zip down the bag, and with an excited flourish removed a black dress. It was 1950s style with a pull-in waist, and a sweetheart neckline. It was dusted with little sequins and beads and finished off with tulle skirting. It was pretty and romantic, and utterly divine.

  Michelle ran a hand over the fabric, taking in the little bumps of sequins and beads scattered throughout. It must have taken hours upon hours to make. “It’s beautiful.” She looked at her friend, tears in her eyes. “It’s … it’s …” She couldn’t even find a word to articulate how amazingly generous this handmade gift was.

  “It’ll look awesome,” Bebe said. “Come on, go and try it on.”

  Michelle took the dress and walked to her bedroom. After fishing out a pair of red peep-toe shoes and slipping it over her head, she inspected herself in the mirror. Had she ever looked more glamorous? She picked up her phone to take a selfie when she glanced over at the teddy bear she’d won in the arcade game with Leon on their first date.

  She put away her phone in her clutch bag. The selfie wasn’t for her. It was to present an image to the world about how amazing she looked, which was true, but the truth was, despite the dress, the shoes, and the make-up, she felt empty on the inside.

  Bebe applauded when Michelle walked into the room. “You look stunning.”

  “Thanks to you!” She ran her hand over the dress. “It’s so beautiful.”

  “You deserve it. Oh!” Bebe looked at her phone, then at Michelle. “That’s the car.”

  “Fantastic.” Michelle switched off the lights and locked up as they left. Sliding into the car, the conversation of earlier came back to her. “Guess what? I was so distracted by the dress that I totally forgot. You’ll never believe this! My dad used to work with your mum!”

  She looked at Bebe, expecting a puzzled look or one of surprise, yet her face appeared to be frozen in fear.

  Chapter 40

  A cold hand of fear crept around Bebe’s heart and grasped it. This was it. There was no hiding from it now.

  “Oh,” she murmured and looked out the window at the other cars on the road as they zoomed towards the city.

  “Isn’t that amazing? What a small world!” Michelle seemed so pleased with her discovery.

  It was as if Bebe’s head was suddenly empty; she couldn’t think of anything to say.

  “Bebe?” Michelle questioned. “Isn’t it an amazing coincidence? And to think we’ve become friends and we didn’t even know.”

  She couldn’t do it. She couldn’t pretend anymore. Michelle was so close to learning the truth, and as much as Bebe tried to deny it, there was no turning back now.

  “I knew about it.” She swallowed.

  The driver glanced at her in his rear-view mirror.

  “You knew?” Michelle’s voice rose. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

  Bebe turned to face her friend and examined her perplexed face.

  “Why didn’t you tell me?” Michelle repeated. “Bebe? What’s going on? You look pale.”

  “I’ve known for some time. I found a card from your father to my mother, many years ago.”

  “What card? Like a birthday card?”

  “Not quite. It was strange.”

  “Strange?” Michelle echoed. “I’m not sure what you mean. How was it strange? They worked together; it sounds like they were friends.”

  Bebe’s heart lurched. Was all this insane? What she was about to tell Michelle was based on little more than the fact her mother had always been so vague, and so unsentimental that a card felt like a big deal, but it was just a card.

  She closed her eyes. This was madness. It was just a card. And the photo? Lots of people put their arms around a friend for a photo. And the blood type? It was rare but it wasn’t like only the Fitzgeralds had that blood type …

  But what if it wasn’t? What if none of it was a coincidence or didn’t mean anything? What if a common allergy to parsley meant something? Something important had led her here, at this time, to find the answers to the questions that had haunted her for years.

  She opened her eyes and looked at Michelle. “My mother told me that my father was a man called Arne.”

  “I’m so sorry,” Michelle said, putting her hand on Bebe’s. “Dad told me he passed away before you were born. That must have been so hard.”

  Bebe cleared her throat. “That’s what Mum told me. But there’s this card.”

  “The card from my dad?” Michelle prompted. “I’m still confused. What did the card say?”

  “It made me wonder if maybe …”

  “Maybe what?”

  “If she was telling me the truth.” Bebe looked at her friend. “I would ask her about my dad, and she’d never say anything or was so vague. And she has so little that was his—like two photographs. I began to wonder if he really was my father.”

  Michelle rubbed the bridge of her nose. “I don’t understand. Why would she lie about that? That’s a pretty big thing to do to you.”

  Did she have to tell her friend her thoughts exactly? Michelle seemed so perplexed that she feared she’d have to spell it out.

  “I thought maybe she was protecting someone else, someone who was married. I once heard her talk about a man—one who was married and had a family, who hadn’t left his wife, so …”

  “Bebe! Dad is the most committed family man, father and husband you could find. There is no way he had an affair with your mother. He wouldn’t do anything like that.”

  “People do strange things. Maybe it was just something that happened one time,” Bebe protested.

  “Don’t say that. There is no way he would do anything like that.” A tear ran down her face. “He loves my mum, and all us kids. He wouldn’t jeopardise that for anyone.”

  Bebe nodded. “I know, but doesn’t it seem odd?”

  Michelle crossed her arms. “You have a card, and what … some conversation you overheard when your mother talked about some former lover? Did she mention my father’s name?”

  “No.”

  Michelle scoffed. “I don’t understand why you would jump to these conclusions with so little information. Is there anything else you have?”

  “There’s a photo of my mother and your father.”

  “Doing what?”

  “They’re at work, and he has his arm around her.”

  Michelle rolled her eyes. “I’ve put my arm around workmates for a photo. So what?”

  Bebe exhaled. She wasn’t getting anywhere with the photograph. “We’re…we’re the same blood type.”

  “What?” Michelle’s mouth fell open. “How do you know that?”

  “You put it on social media when you fell off the boat in Montreal, and I saw
a message from your sister and I figured out we have the same blood type. And we’re both left-handed, like your father, and you’re allergic to parsley like I am.”

  “But lots of people can have the same blood type and are left-handed or have food that doesn’t agree with them. It means nothing! Okay, what else do you have? Do you have anything else? Anything concrete like a birth certificate or a DNA test?”

  “No.” That was all she had—that and a hunch. Nothing more. She’d chickened out of the DNA test. “I considered a DNA test.”

  Michelle’s eyes widened. “What does that mean? Were you going to sneak a strand of my hair or something?”

  “I thought about it,” Bebe admitted. “But I couldn’t go through with it.”

  “This is unbelievable.” Michelle raised her hands to her temples. “It’s a card! I have cards from all sorts of people, it doesn’t mean I had love affairs with them.”

  “You don’t understand.” This was so hard to explain. “My mother keeps nothing. She is so unsentimental. Why would she keep this card?”

  “Did you ask her?”

  “She doesn’t know I know about it.”

  “I can’t believe this.” Michelle’s mouth was set in a hard line. “That is so ridiculous.”

  “But it’s not only that. I don’t look anything like him, or my mother.”

  “So? Lots of people don’t look like their parents. It doesn’t mean anything. Besides, you don’t look like anyone in my family.”

  This wasn’t going well. Now that it was all being said out loud, it did sound ridiculous. “I’m sorry. I’ve clearly jumped to conclusions.”

  Michelle pinched the bridge of her nose. “I’m confused.” She looked up at her. “I don’t understand. You knew all this and then realised who I was after we met?”

  “Not quite.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “I looked up your dad, and I found you on social media.”

  Michelle brought a hand to her mouth. “Oh, my goodness. So this is why we’re friends? You were stalking me?”

  “I wasn’t stalking you.”

  “You didn’t come into the café by accident, did you? You knew I worked there, and …” She shook her head. “I don’t believe this. I thought you were my friend.” She gave Bebe a desperate look.

  “I am your friend. Your friendship has meant so much to me. I didn’t want to break your trust.”

  “You’ve done that already. Sneaking around, looking us up and intruding in my family’s life. Making up these outrageous lies about my father.” She leaned forward and tapped the Uber driver on the shoulder. “Can you please pull over here?”

  “Here?” The driver looked around at their surroundings. “It’s dark. I don’t think it’s safe to leave you here.”

  “It’s fine.” Michelle pulled her phone out of her bag.

  Bebe looked around. She agreed with the driver. They were on a busy road, but there weren’t many pedestrians around and the street lamps looked dim. “What about we turn around at least and go back to your house and talk?”

  “There’s nothing to talk about. Please, stop the car.” Michelle leaned forward to the driver again.

  “But?”

  “Please, don’t worry about me. I’ll get another car.” She tapped away at her phone.

  “Wait, Michelle. Please!” Bebe’s head was hurting, as was her heart. In a few days, she’d managed to hurt and isolate two of the people who meant the most to her since she’d arrived in Melbourne.

  The car pulled to a stop and Michelle got out and slammed the door behind her.

  “Can we please wait until the car picks her up?” Bebe asked.

  The driver shrugged. “That’s okay, but where to after that?”

  Bebe rubbed her temple. Her head was getting worse. She blinked back tears, partly due to the pain, and partly as she glanced up at her friend, waiting outside for another car.

  It had been so hard to make friends when she’d always been on the move, yet Michelle had become a friend. And in one fell swoop, she’d made a terrible accusation that had hurt her friend.

  She put a hand up to the cool glass of the window, longing to run to her friend and apologise for everything, but as she saw Michelle’s cold eyes, she brought her hand back to her lap.

  She’d turned a crazy hunch into an all-consuming obsession that had caused her to alienate a friend. She put her head in her hands and let out a sob for everything she’d lost in a few short weeks.

  Chapter 41

  Michelle could see Bebe and the Uber driver watching her. She tried to ignore them and refreshed her app, hoping her newly-ordered Uber would arrive shortly and whisk her away from the most ridiculous, ludicrous idea she’d ever heard in her entire life.

  Oh no. Her heart skipped a beat as she looked at the app. The order hadn’t gone through as her credit card had maxed out. She opened up her banking app but her accounts were empty.

  There wasn’t a train station nearby. Was there a bus stop? She brought her arms around herself. Perhaps she could get a cab to the train station. That could work. She’d removed cash from her account that afternoon to pay for the night out and pay Lauren back for some money she’d loaned her. She’d just have to use that and ring for a taxi. The driver would take cash.

  Opening her bag, the blood drained from her face when she realised that her wallet wasn’t inside. With the excitement of the new dress, she’d thrown her phone and keys in, but that was all.

  She was stranded. With no cash, no credit cards and no money in her account there was no way of getting a taxi or train or anything.

  Bebe was still looking at her. She turned her head. Quick. She needed a plan to escape.

  All her family were at the football game, and Leon? She couldn’t see him dropping everything to come and collect her after how she’d treated him.

  She tried Harry, but he didn’t pick up. Was he still a bit cool with her after her ‘advice’ of earlier? She wasn’t sure so she tried a friend from school, but it went to voice mail.

  Her social media accounts boasted thousands of followers, yet right now, she didn’t have a friend—a real friend—she could count on.

  Finally, with no other choice, she called her father. The football crowd buzzed in the background when he answered. She explained briefly she’d been stranded with no cash, no credit and no way of getting home.

  It was a really sad thing to admit to her father, and to herself. She wasn’t an adult, she was a wayward teenager.

  “Where are you?” he asked over the sound of the siren.

  She explained her location. “I can wait until the end of the game.”

  “No, I’m on my way. Pete and Clare can drop your mother home.” She could hear Pete yelling about a free kick in the background.

  “I’m sorry.”

  “If you need me, I’m there.” His voice was firm, but comforting and she struggled back a tear as they said ‘goodbye’. She could always rely on her father. He was dependable and caring and always there for her.

  Anger bubbled up inside her as she looked back to Bebe. How dare she say those things about him? She had no idea what he was like.

  With the MCG not too far away, her father’s car pulled up and she gave Bebe a final glare as she climbed in.

  “I’m sorry for dragging you away from the match,” she told him.

  He shrugged. “We were losing anyway and it’s much warmer in here.”

  She held her hands up to the heater vent on the dashboard. “Still it’s a shame to have to leave early.” She knew her father liked to stay to the end win, lose or draw. “I’m sorry.”

  “These things happen and it’s more important to me that you’re safe. You know you can always call me, right?”

  “I know. Thank you.” She could always rely on him.

  She looked out the window as they drew closer to home. Familiar streets, familiar take away food shops lit up, familiar parks. She’d been desperate to escape, looki
ng for adventure. To live a life like Bebe, but yet what had it all brought Bebe?

  Her father groaned as the other team scored another goal, and turned down the football commentary.

  “As I’m not missing anything there, are you going to tell me what happened? I thought you were going out with Bebe?”

  Should she dance around the truth? She looked at her father. She trusted him. She loved him. She knew he’d not done anything wrong.

  “Bebe made a terrible allegation and we had a fight.”

  “An allegation?” He scrunched up his face. “That sounds serious.”

  She looked down. “It was about you.”

  “Me?”

  Michelle let out a sigh. This was perhaps the most awkward conversation she could ever have with her parents. She didn’t even want to think about them sleeping together, let alone anyone outside of their marriage. She shuddered.

  “Bebe isn’t convinced that Arne was her father,” she said carefully.

  “No?”

  “She wondered if you were.”

  There was silence before her father let out a laugh. A full, belly laugh.

  “Are you right?”

  He wiped a tear from his eye. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t laugh, but no. Petra? Goodness. What a crazy notion! Why does she think that?”

  “She says that you wrote her mother a card.”

  “Did I? When?”

  She shrugged. “I don’t know.”

  He paused and finally sighed as they pulled up at a red light. He tapped his fingers on the steering wheel as if trying to recall. “I could have,” he said. “I don’t know. I do remember I wanted what was best for her. I thought it was so hard with all you kids when you were little, I feared for her alone with a baby in another country. I may have written her a note when she left just to let her know that if she ever needed anything that we were here. She was a smart woman, but didn’t seem to be the sort of person who accepted a lot of help—I mean, we offered to identify Arne, but she wanted to do it herself. It was admirable, but also, grief is hard to handle.”