After the Party
Page 27
Kristy sniffed. ‘I’m fine,’ she said, wiping her eyes hastily. ‘Just a tough week. Lots going on.’
‘I hear you, girl. I hear you,’ said Jamie.
‘Is there anything we can do to help?’ Lisa leapt from the chair and squeezed Kristy’s shoulder.
‘No,’ she sniffed. ‘You’ve already done enough.’
Slightly puzzled, Lisa hugged her. ‘But we haven’t done anything.’
‘Just you being here … and caring,’ said Kristy, her voice muffled by tears. ‘That’s everything.’
In the mirror, Jamie raised her eyebrows at Lisa as if to say I don’t know what the hell is going on and Lisa gave a small shoulder shrug back that said I don’t either, but let’s just go with it.
Poor girl. All Jamie really knew about Kristy was that she was from the north coast, which presumably meant no family locally, and possibly only a few friends. Even though she’d never lived anywhere else, Jamie could see how Sydney was a tough city for newcomers. Perhaps that was Kristy’s problem.
‘How about a cup of tea?’ Lisa disentangled herself from Kristy. ‘I think we’ve probably had enough moscato for one night. It’s nice at first, but then it’s a bit like drinking fairy floss.’
‘That would be lovely,’ said Kristy, adjusting her spiky fringe and dabbing any remaining wetness from her cheeks. ‘I’m sorry, Jamie. Let’s finish you off.’ She tilted Jamie’s head forward and started sliding bobby pins into her hair to create the ‘loose-but-done’ hairstyle that Jamie had requested.
After a few minutes, she stopped. ‘All right, you can look now.’ As Kristy reached for a hand mirror, Jamie stared at her reflection. The style was perfect. Her hair was pulled softly from her face so that a few tendrils skimmed her cheeks, and it had been secured with an easy twist at the back of her head from which gentle curls tumbled down her back.
Back from the kitchenette and holding two cups of tea, Lisa audibly sucked in a breath. ‘Oh, it’s gorgeous … Your curls, I haven’t seen them in years.’
‘Hold on. Just stand up for the finishing touch.’ As Jamie stood, Kristy took the tulle veil with its scalloped edge of sparkling beads and slid the comb gently into the crown of Jamie’s head, bringing the front of the veil down over her face. Now, Jamie’s world was misted white, as it had been in the bridal shop. She peered through the netting at herself. Oh my god. She was really a bride. Feeling her knees starting to weaken, she clutched Kristy’s arm for support.
‘Holy shit,’ she breathed.
Lisa laughed. ‘I don’t think that’s quite what a bride is supposed to say.’
Kristy giggled nervously. ‘Do you like it?’
‘Oh, I love it!’ She let go of Kristy’s arm. ‘It’s just a lot to take in.’
Kristy nodded. ‘I hear you, Jamie. I hear you.’
After a few more minutes of inspecting the hairdo and discussing logistics for the day, Kristy removed the veil and Jamie breathed a sigh of relief. She checked her watch. Nearly 10 pm. Goodness, it was getting late. She couldn’t wait to get home and find out how the dinner between Jared, Angel and Ben had gone.
As Kristy tidied, Jamie and Lisa collected their things and carefully folded the veil into its white suit bag. After profuse thank yous to Kristy, they were nearly out the door when Lisa stopped.
‘Say, Kristy, we never talked about the girls’ hair for the wedding.’ She pulled a face. ‘I’m hopeless at doing it, and you’re such a star, I don’t suppose you’d mind doing three quick French braids on the day?’
The colour drained from Kristy’s face and she stumbled a little, reaching for the door handle to keep herself upright.
‘Oh gosh, you poor thing, you’re exhausted,’ said Lisa, rushing to keep Kristy propped up. ‘We’ve kept you far too long. We can talk about the girls later. Tomorrow maybe? I could bring them in for a little trial?’
‘No,’ Kristy croaked. ‘No, please, I’m sorry. But I don’t do hair for children.’
‘Sorry?’ said Lisa, as if she’d simply misheard.
‘I can’t do it. I’m sorry. Please don’t ask me.’ The girl suddenly looked very young and vulnerable. ‘I’m just …’ she trailed off.
‘Kristy, it’s fine,’ said Jamie firmly. ‘It’s really no big deal. I’m sure Lisa and I can manage a couple of plaits between us, can’t we, Lise?’
‘Of course,’ Lisa stammered, still slightly stunned by Kristy’s strange reaction.
‘I’m so sorry,’ said Kristy miserably. ‘But … um …’ She looked about the salon desperately, as if the chandeliers might be able to tell her what to say. ‘Well, you see … Cosima, the owner here, really doesn’t like having children in the salon. And I get a bit nervous around them, so … And. Oh!’ She clicked her fingers. ‘Just remembered that I have another appointment straight after yours, so, you know, I don’t really have time …’
Jamie knew a lie when she saw one, and the way Kristy wouldn’t meet her eyes confirmed her suspicions. But it wasn’t worth calling her out. The last thing Jamie needed was to put Kristy off-side. She might back out of the wedding altogether and Jamie couldn’t cope with that. The woman was a magician with hair. So what if she was a bit funny about kids. The idea of trying to tame the locks of a little wiggling, jiggling three-year-old made Jamie nervous as well. ‘Honestly, it’s fine, Kristy. You’ve already gone out of your way to help, staying back so late and all. We really appreciate it, don’t we?’ She shot a look at Lisa, who had finally managed to close her surprised mouth.
‘Yes. Don’t worry about the children.’ Lisa patted Kristy’s arm. ‘Just wait till you become a mother, that’ll cure you of the nerves.’
Kristy looked pained. ‘Maybe,’ she said softly and opened the salon door for the sisters.
Their goodbyes said, Jamie and Lisa walked slowly into the quiet street.
‘What was that all about?’ said Lisa.
Jamie shrugged. ‘I have no idea. Kristy is a total mystery woman. She’s a bit of a floater, I gather. Only does Saturdays at Cosima’s, and odd days here and there at other salons. Keeps to herself a lot, I think. She’s been away recently but thank god she’s back for the wedding. She came in especially for tonight.’
‘She seems a bit haunted by something,’ said Lisa thoughtfully.
‘I guess we all have a few skeletons, when you think about it.’ Jamie looked into the inky sky, the stars shining like miniature glitter pots, and thought of Ben kissing her. She shivered. Her skeleton certainly needed to stay in the cupboard. She needed to forget Ben and move on to her life with Jared. It was madness at this late stage to be having thoughts of another man when she was about to get everything she wanted. She picked up the pace. She needed to get home. See Jared. Forget Ben.
‘In a hurry to get home to the fiancé, are we?’ said Lisa, lagging a couple of feet behind.
‘Something like that,’ Jamie muttered, before stopping. ‘Sorry. Here.’ She held out her hand to Lisa, then tucked it under her arm, appreciating her sister’s warmth.
The bedroom had a distinct odour of beer and garlic. They must have gone to Angel’s favourite Vietnamese place, thought Jamie, as she slid under the covers. Despite the less-than-appealing smell emanating from her husband-tobe, she moulded herself around his strong back and slipped her arm onto his chest. Jared stirred and squeezed her hand.
‘Good night?’ he asked sleepily.
‘Shhhh. Go back to sleep,’ she whispered, nestling into his neck.
Jared belched. ‘Sorry,’ he sighed, rolling onto his back. ‘That boss of yours made me eat too much food,’ he groaned. ‘I’m still full.’
‘You didn’t have to go.’
‘Angel insisted. The woman does not take no for an answer.’
Questions swirled through Jamie’s head. What did you talk about? Did you talk about me? What did Angel say? What did Ben say? Is he in love with me? But she resisted the urge to ask anything, particularly the last question.
‘They really
love you there.’ Jared shifted onto his side and faced Jamie. Her muscles tensed.
‘Angel doesn’t want you to leave.’ Jared paused. ‘Neither does Ben.’
‘They just don’t want to do the mountain of work that’ll hit them when I leave.’ Jamie stared at the ceiling but felt Jared’s eyes on her.
‘I don’t think it’s that …’ He rolled onto his back and joined Jamie in looking upwards. ‘They think—’ he started, then stopped. ‘Why didn’t you tell me about Angel’s offer to hand you the reins at Spin?’
Jamie curled her fingers. ‘I didn’t want you to think I had any doubts about Dubai.’
Jared sighed. ‘You could have told me. They think you’re something really special. Not just a great boss, or a great employee. It’s more than that.’
‘That’s what they said?’
‘No. But I could tell.’
Jamie rolled onto her elbow and looked directly at Jared. ‘Well, I don’t need Angel or Ben to tell me I’m special, because I have you.’ She ran her finger down Jared’s chest. ‘And I know you think I’m special.’ Before he could answer, she leant over and kissed him full on the mouth. A passionate kiss designed to erase all thoughts of Ben. But as her tongue explored the familiar terrain of Jared’s mouth, she could visualise only one thing.
Ben.
Jared broke away. ‘Babe, I’m really tired, and stuffed full of food …’ he apologised, before rolling away from her.
‘Night then.’
As Jared took up the gentle, regular breathing that told Jamie he was asleep, she pressed her hand into his warm back. What was she doing, thinking of Ben when the man she loved was right here? And that was the point. He was here, warming her bed, ready and willing to marry her.
Ben was a fantasy. Jared was her reality, and he was a wonderful reality. Together, they would have a fabulous life in Dubai. Tomorrow, she would officially refuse Angel’s offer to take over at Spin.
Jamie slipped her other hand onto Jared’s chest. When she closed her eyes, the vision that came was of herself in the veil, the white cloud falling over her eyes. And she slept.
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
Missy leant on the broom, suddenly overcome with exhaustion. Normally she found sweeping therapeutic which was fortunate in her line of work. But tonight, the broom was lead in her hands and she kept noticing stray hairs that the bristles of the broom had missed.
All that lying to those two lovely women! It was totally exhausting and guilt-inducing. How could she have possibly imagined that she could cope with this charade, physically or emotionally?
At first it had seemed easy. Two months ago now, the day Jamie dropped that brightly coloured bit of paper in the salon, Missy thought all her Christmases had come at once.
‘Jamie, Jamie, you dropped something,’ Missy had called after her from the door of the salon. But Jamie was already in her car and roaring off into the traffic. Missy studied the invitation.
Ava’s turning 5! it exclaimed in big pink letters, festooned with balloons. Ava was the niece Jamie had raved about. There was a time and a date and a mobile phone number for Lisa—the sister Jamie had also raved about for her amazing mothering skills. The two had a special bond, Jamie had explained, because of their parents dying and Lisa assuming the guardianship role. ‘She got me out of the group home. I’ll never be able to thank her enough for that. The care system in this state is seriously broken,’ she had railed. ‘I mean, I know a lot of foster carers are genuinely amazing, but some are seriously dodgy. I mean, could you put a child at risk like that? I couldn’t even do it to a pet.’
That’s who Ellie needs to be with. That’s who’ll keep her safe.
Missy checked the date for the party—February 27. Kyle would get out of jail on the first of March. The timing was perfect. A party would be the ideal cover for dropping Ellie straight into the Wheeldons’ life. Of course, there’d be hiccups. The Wheeldons would be shocked, no doubt. They were so normal and what Missy was about to do was so strange. Then there was Ellie. How would she convince her daughter to go along with it all?
For a start, she needed to know more about Lisa Wheeldon. Was she really the mother that Jamie claimed? Missy had to see for herself before she could entrust her with her most precious possession. From idle salon chit-chat with Jamie, she knew that Lisa had two daughters—Ava was at St John’s and Jemima was in pre-school. Lisa was a self-employed bookkeeper because it gave her the flexibility she needed to be there for the kids. It was good information, but not enough. Missy needed proof.
She soon had it. With small children, a mother tended to be strikingly predictable in her routines and Lisa was no exception. Morning was school drop-off. Afternoons were pick-ups. Three days a week they went to the playground near St John’s. Fridays were swimming lessons for both girls. Two days, Jemima was at pre-school. And on the other three days, Lisa kept her busy with gymbaroo and art class and supermarket shopping. After a couple of weeks of watching them, Missy came to realise that it wasn’t necessarily the routine that was important, though that would be helpful to Missy’s plan, it was the small moments that gave her pause for hope—the way Lisa constantly showered her girls with kisses and always knelt down to talk to them. The way she held their hands so firmly when they crossed roads. The way she’d spoken calmly but firmly to Ava when she’d pinched Jemima and made her cry. But, moreover, it was simply the way she looked at her girls with so much love in her eyes. It moved Missy to tears, for she recognised it as being the same way she looked at Ellie. Yes, putting her daughter into this woman’s hands was the right thing, but asking her to care for Ellie wasn’t the way to do it—no loving mother in their right mind would agree to take in a stranger’s child if there was the merest hint of danger. Missy couldn’t give Lisa a chance to say no. Besides, the risk to the Wheeldon family was minimal, Missy would see to that. What was the saying—it was better to seek forgiveness than ask permission? This was the way it had to be done.
Missy slumped into one of the salon chairs and startled at the pale, platinum blonde staring back at her. The colour wasn’t her. It wasn’t her at all, and as soon as all of this was over she would be going straight back to her natural brown.
As soon as Kyle is arrested …
She took a breath. O’Dea said they were close. Just a couple more days, he reckoned. But in the meantime, Missy wasn’t to worry. They had Kyle and his cronies under 24/7 surveillance. He wouldn’t be going anywhere.
That might have been comforting for O’Dea, but as far as Missy was concerned, she wouldn’t relax until Kyle was behind bars. While ever he was free, he was a risk to her and Ellie. Her daughter was safer with the Wheeldons, for now. But how long would it be? Anyone could see that Lisa Wheeldon was getting attached. Had Missy’s plan gone too well? How would Lisa manage when Missy decided it was time to re-enter her daughter’s life?
As she stared into the mirror, it occurred to her that in giving her precious little girl to a near stranger, she had thought only of her own sacrifice. Not once had she thought how that stranger would feel when it was time to give her back.
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
From the outside, the house was dark and quiet. At the door, Lisa removed her boots and tip-toed inside, carefully turning the door handle until it closed with a soft click. But as she walked further down the hall, she stopped. Voices, coming from inside their living room. It was nearly 11 pm. Surely everyone was asleep? She would kill Scott if he’d let the girls stay up this late on a school night, and less than two days out from Jamie’s wedding. The last thing she needed to deal with was over-tired, hyper-excited little girls. The emotion levels would be off the charts!
She strode into the living room, ready to admonish, and stopped at the couch.
Her husband was snoring softly, the TV remote hanging loosely from his hand. She glanced briefly at the screen. NCIS was it? One of those cop shows that he claimed to enjoy but almost always sent him to sleep within twenty minutes.
Tenderly, Lisa pressed her lips against Scott’s forehead. She hated the idea of not telling him about Igor Ivanov, but it would only be for forty-eight hours. After the wedding, she’d tell him everything and they’d decide what to do, together.
Scott snuffled and blearily opened his eyes. ‘Hey, you’re home. How did it go?’
‘All fine.’ She patted his shoulder. ‘Everything all right here?’
He yawned. ‘Just the usual Melbas. Eight of them tonight, from memory.’
She and Scott had a running joke that every night at bedtime their children staged more farewells before bed than the famed Dame Nellie. The excuses were many and varied—water, extra hugs, another kiss, a scary shadow, another wee, a strange noise, itchy pyjamas, too hot, too cold, a very important story that could not wait until the morning. The list was endless and now, Scott and Lisa simply referred to them collectively as the Melbas.
‘Might just go check on them and then head up to bed.’ Lisa rose.
‘I’ll join you.’
Helping him up, Lisa kept hold of her sleepy husband’s arm as they walked back down the hallway to the girls’ room.
‘Bit like practice for the wedding.’ Scott started humming a wedding march. He’d volunteered to walk Jamie down the aisle.