by Cate Kendall
She looked at the clock. It was three-thirty pm. Stephen got home at four most days. She needed to sort this out now.
She would be patient and gentle with Stephen; she didn’t want to hurt him, but he had to know she couldn’t go on like this anymore. She was capable of being happily single; obviously a relationship with Peter would be impossible given that they lived on opposite sides of the world. She might be lonely, but it would be better than being constantly reminded of her marital unhappiness.
She hoped Stephen would concur and not create a scene. And she hoped he would allow her and Tyler to remain in the house and agree to move elsewhere.
By the time the Audi neared her Hawthorn home Gemma was certain about the new family plan although miserable she’d relegated Peter to a never-to-be pigeonhole in the filing system of her life.
It was going to go very well, she decided. She would go into Stephen’s study, and explain that they needed to let go of the broken marriage and have the strength to do what was best for their son. A life with two happier parents – albeit in two different homes. She bit her lip at the thought, then reminded herself that not all divorces had to be as ugly as her parents’. She and Stephen were mature adults. He might object and be hurt at first, but she was sure he would ultimately accept that they were only going through the motions of having a relationship and see that they could each have a future separately.
She thought back to when they met. They were at a university basketball game. She’d been one of the cheerleaders and he’d been playing centre. That was the first time they kissed. She’d blamed the box of wine they’d shared after the game. Later, back in her dorm room, they’d had sex all night long. She’d been a bit too drunk to truly remember it but she’d been thrilled the next day when he’d stayed with her and hadn’t scarpered post-coitus like other guys did. He’d been really into her and for that she was grateful. She’d revelled in the attention.
Her parents had always been self-involved and too busy provoking the other to notice their attention-starved daughter. Looking back, she realised that her neediness had played a big part in her relationship with Stephen. It probably also explained why she put up with friends like Mercedes. She was often so relieved to be loved by her friends that she didn’t see how damaging they could be.
Unfortunately that first time with Stephen was the weekend she got pregnant. When she’d told him that she was carrying his child, they were so head over heels in lust with each other that they decided that it was meant to be. They deferred their studies and started playing happy families.
It hadn’t gone stale immediately. But it became apparent by the time Tyler was at school they just weren’t well suited. They’d both been able to successfully ignore each other by leading separate lives. It hadn’t been terrible; in fact, there had been some good times watching baby Tyler grow, family holidays, great parties. She’d often looked at her relationship and compared it to others’. Everyone was struggling. No couple lived in romantic la la land after the first five years. Especially those who had children. Everyone had to work at it. That’s why she’d just kept her mouth shut, focused on her career and Tyler.
She pulled into her driveway and nearly rear-ended a black Mercedes convertible. She reversed and drove her car up beside the Merc. It was Mercedes’s Mercedes. What in the hell was Mercedes doing here?
She probably wanted to go over some petty details of the dancers’ hair and make-up. What rotten timing. But why was she at the house? Why hadn’t she come by the office? Gemma was never home this early. Hmmm. Odd.
She went to the front door, opened it and walked into the hallway. Tyler was in the kitchen downing his customary litre of afterschool orange juice.
‘Mum,’ he said, his eyes wide. He looked up the hallway and back again.
‘Hello, sweetie.’ She smiled at him.
‘Mum, wha – what are you doing here?’
‘I’m home early for a change. Is Mercedes here? Her car’s out the front. She must be in the study talking to Dad. What’s wrong? You look as if you’ve seen a ghost.’ She turned to walk down the hall.
Tyler called after her. ‘No, Mum. Don’t go in there.’
‘It’s okay, I just have to see Dad.’ Her hand was on the doorhandle of the study when Tyler jogged up the corridor behind her.
‘Mum, I need to talk to you.’
She flung the door open. At first she was unsure of what she was seeing. The world tilted a little. What were they doing? She tipped her head to one side as the couple sprang apart. Guilty looks filled their faces.
‘Gemma, I can explain,’ Stephen started. Gemma felt a mixture of nausea and anger but mostly a flood of relief that the ridiculous sham of their relationship was over in that one split second.
‘Really?’ Gemma said. ‘So I presume you’re going to tell me this is “not what it seems”?’
‘I knew you weren’t planning a surprise party,’ Tyler said from behind.
Gemma spun around. ‘Tyler. Go back to the kitchen.’
‘Surprise party,’ he scoffed and slouched away.
Mercedes buttoned her top, put on her shoes and had the decency to look suitably ashamed.
‘Oh, Gemma, I am so sorry,’ she said.
‘Get out of my house, Mercedes,’ Gemma said quietly, without looking at her.
As Mercedes stood to go, Stephen stood up. ‘Wait, I’ve got something to say.’
Mercedes turned to him. ‘No, Stephen, don’t.’
Gemma rolled her eyes at the pathetic soap opera she was witnessing.
‘I must, Mercedes,’ Stephen said. ‘Gemma, Mercedes and I . . .’ he gave Mercedes a lingering gaze and looked back to Gemma, ‘well . . . we’re having an affair.’
‘Really?’ Gemma said again, sarcasm dripping from every drawn-out syllable. ‘I’m glad you pointed it out, because, hey, I’m no Angela Lansbury. So how long?’
‘Since your trip to New York in June.’
‘You’re so sad; I really feel for you. And me. And Tyler. All of us.’ She slumped into the office chair and looked at her husband. ‘I need to talk to you, Stephen.’ She looked up at Mercedes who was hovering at the doorway.
‘What are you still doing here? Get,’ she said. Mercedes grabbed her bag and skittered off down the hallway and out the door.
As she passed through the kitchen, Gemma heard Tyler call out after her, ‘Surprise!’
Gemma shut the door and returned to the office chair. It made her feel sick to watch Stephen slipping on his shoes, especially given what she’d just done in New York.
‘Look,’ Stephen began on the defensive, ‘I was forced into Mercedes’s arms. You’re always at work, Tyler’s a bag of misery, there’s no joy in my life. I needed some loving. I’m only human . . .’
‘Shhh,’ Gemma put up a hand to silence him. ‘Don’t worry, I understand what you’re going through. Believe me.’
‘It’s not my fault, Gemma. I didn’t mean to hurt you, but Mercedes was there for me.’
‘I know, Stephen, it’s okay. It’s not your fault. You’re right: we are both to blame.’
Stephen’s eyes narrowed. ‘Why are you being so good about this? You’re not tearing strips off me.’
‘You’re not alone here, Stephen. I slept with Peter Blakely in New York this week. So believe me, I understand what you’re going through.’
The air in the small study thickened. Sweat prickled under Gemma’s arms. She watched her husband process the information. His jaw dropped.
‘What the fuck?’
‘I know, Stephen, it was wrong. But at least we’re both in the same boat, we can understand each other and move on . . .’
‘You whore!’
‘Stephen, I hardly think that’s appropriate.’ She glanced at the door, worried that Tyler might have heard.
‘I can’t believe you’ve been screwing around on me.’ He bashed the wall with the heel of his palm. He spun back to face her and hissed, ‘You’re my wife!’
She was getting angry now. ‘Only by marriage, Stephen,’ she spat in a threatening undertone. ‘I think it’s best if you go now, Stephen, go to Mercedes and have a think about where to from here.’
‘Oh, I will, don’t you worry!’ He picked up his satchel and suit coat and strode to the door. He pulled it open and as he passed through it she heard him mutter under his breath, ‘Slut.’
Gemma stared after him. Then pulled out her iPhone and texted Chantelle. Pls find new hair and make-up artist for models. Mercedes sacked.
Later that night, Gemma flung herself onto the couch next to Tyler. ‘It’s late,’ she said.
‘Yeah, you’re right.’ He pushed the remote button to turn the television off. ‘Dad gone?’ Tyler asked.
‘Yes, mate, I’m sorry you had to see what was going on. Dad and I are going to separate. He’ll pick up the rest of his stuff on Sunday while I’m taking you to the paintball party.’
‘Good.’
She looked at him, taken aback. ‘Good? Since when is it good that your parents are splitting up?’
He turned to her with a serious face. ‘Mum, it’s been so long since you guys could even spend five minutes together before things got nasty. It’s a bloody relief that you’re splitting, to be honest. And it’s not like I’ll be the only kid at school whose parents aren’t together.’
‘Well, you’ll fit right in then, won’t you?’ She smiled. ‘Seriously, are you really okay with it?’
‘Yeah, I really am, Mum. I can’t tell you how relieved I am that it’s all over.’
‘The tension between your dad and me?’
‘Yeah, and all the bullshit, you know?’
‘I sure do know,’ Gemma said.
‘That slut Mercedes coming over all the time,’ he said.
‘They didn’t go upstairs together while you were home, did they?’ Gemma asked, horrified her son may have witnessed some X-rated behaviour.
‘No, I just heard them giggling and carrying on in the study. But I knew what they were up to. She had the nerve to tell me they were planning some party for you so I had to keep her visits a secret.’
‘So why didn’t you tell me?’
‘I couldn’t, Mum. I’m so sorry, I am so weak, I really am. I knew it would hurt you, I knew it would make you really sad. I couldn’t get Amy out of my mind and how devastated she was when Gavin two-timed her, and I didn’t want to be the one to have to tell you, to put you through that kind of pain.’
‘Oh, you poor boy, what a dreadful burden you’ve been carrying around. You’re not weak; you’re wonderful, protecting me like that. I wish you had come to me. I didn’t take the news so badly after all, did I?’
‘No, you’re cool. A lot happier than Amy was. So what happens now?’ Tyler asked.
‘Now? Well, now it’s bedtime, and after that, tomorrow’s another day. I guess we’ll just have to see. I know that your dad and I will both still want to be in your life as much as we can.’ She stood and yawned. ‘So, are you bringing a date on Saturday night to the Mal-Teaser function?’
‘Yeah, maybe, I dunno. Nah, yeah, I dunno.’
‘Okay, well, once you’ve made up your mind let me know. Goodnight, big guy, see you in the morning.’
‘Goodnight, Mum.’ He stood up next to her; his lanky frame towered over hers. He wrapped her in his arms and gave her a big squeeze. ‘I’m sorry Dad did this to you, Mum, but I’ll never let you down. I’m here for you, okay? We’ll get through this together.’
Gemma squeezed her son around his trunk and leaned her head against him. Her eyes, although shut tight, leaked fat, wet, silent tears onto his T-shirt.
So, she thought, in the end she couldn’t give her son the family she had been so sure he needed. Maybe she should start concentrating on giving him a tolerable divorce experience instead. After all, that’s what she needed. That’s what they all needed.
‘Gemma Bristol?’ Gemma tucked her phone under her chin and continued to scroll through the list of guests.
She smiled as she realised who was on the other end of the line. ‘Laura, so good to hear from you . . . What? . . . Coffee? Well, I’m fairly busy, as you can imagine – the function’s tomorrow. I have to finish up here then head over to the venue for the set-up; I have hundreds of workers arriving this afternoon to install various things . . . Okay, the cafe downstairs would be great . . . I could use a pick-me-up. See you in ten.’
She hung up the phone and finished the list, saving it then attaching it to an email which she sent to her iPhone and to her team so that everyone had an up-to-date version.
Gemma grabbed her bag and walked to the elevator, stopping at various stations en route to check in with her team.
Bethany was tapping away at her keyboard. A large video camera was attached to the computer.
‘Hi, Bethany. How are you going with the webstreaming idea? That was sheer genius by the way.’
‘Hi, Gemma. No biggie, Ustream is a brilliant way of keeping our at-home Mal-Teaser members involved in the event.’
‘Fantastic, show me.’
Bethany clicked away until a hummingbird in a nest appeared on the monitor. It blinked a few times and looked around. ‘This is Phoebe, a Channel Island Allen’s Hummingbird. I don’t know what is so exciting about her but she has a webcam trained on her twenty-four seven and has had three million views in the last twenty-four hours.’ Bethany moved her mouse around the screen to show Gemma how the live webstream technology worked using the hummingbird as the example. ‘This little bird currently has 864 people watching her live.’
‘That’s truly incredible,’ Gemma said as she looked over Bethany’s shoulder. ‘Great quality.’
‘Well, that all depends on the standard of the webcam in use. We’ve gone top shelf with this baby.’ She patted the video camera to her left. ‘Our stream will be brilliant.’
‘Are you going to move it around during the night? Or keep it in one spot?’
‘Move it around, definitely,’ Bethany said. ‘I will have it on the hot-pink carpet at the beginning of the evening to show everybody as they arrive, then on the dance floor for two hours, then in other parts of the room and finish off in the chill-out room.’
Gemma chuckled. ‘I hope we don’t get sued. Imagine the scandals we could unearth if people aren’t aware of the camera.’
‘Oh, it’s well publicised that there are cameras about the place,’ Bethany reassured her.
Patty walked by, her arms laden with brand-new Flip video cameras. The high-definition mobile-phone-sized Flip camera was the hottest gadget in the tech-set.
‘Oh, Patty,’ Gemma stopped her. ‘How’d your Facebook video comp go? Anything good come in?’
‘Are you kidding?’ Patty grinned. ‘Brilliant stuff. We had thousands of entries; I had to hire a group of uni students just to get them all viewed.’
As the resident Facebook fiend, Patty had started a fan page for the event, transferring thousands of friends from her page to the fan page. It instantly went viral when Patty posted a contest to send in a video showing how chocolate got you through tough times. The twenty winners received free Flip cameras and a ticket to the event, where another contest would determine the winner of the best coverage of the event. The overall winner would get a MacBook complete with the latest movie-editing software.
‘Well done, absolutely wonderful. You’re a very clever techy,’ Gemma said, with a hand on Patty’s back.
‘I hope that’s not like a Trekkie,’ Patty said and grinned in response.
‘Isn’t it Trekker?’ Bethany asked and Gemma continued on to the elevator, leaving the girls discussing Star Trek semantics.
The lift door opened. Chantelle was inside engrossed in her phone. ‘Hi, Chantelle. What are you doing here?’ Gemma asked and stepped back so she could enter the floor. The lift closed.
‘Oh, Gemma, luv, bloody Dame Frances has amped up the comp, darl. Just wanted to come by and tell you the news myself.’
‘Well, you know her event has sold out but she also got that big private donation which brings you neck and neck?’
‘Yeeesss,’ Gemma said.
‘Well, guess who’s coming to dinner?’
‘Who?’
‘Rumour has it,’ at this Chantelle waggled her phone, ‘that bloody Liz herself is involved.’
‘Liz who?’
‘Liz fooking Windsor, that’s who.’ Chantelle’s bottom lip stuck out.
‘The Queen? She’s got the Queen of England involved? You can’t be serious.’
‘Well, not directly as such,’ Chantelle wriggled out of her exaggeration, ‘but the Queen’s rep. Turns out the Governor-General is going.’
‘Quentin Bryce is going to the ball? My God, this is huge, the donations will flood in. Bloody Dame Frances, will she stop at nothing? She’s formidable.’
‘You ain’t wrong there, my darling.’
Gemma stared in horror at her friend. She had seriously underestimated Dame Frances’s abilities and connections. What did Gemma think she was doing having this little Facebook party when Dame Frances had such a strong, untouchable network? There was absolutely no way she was going to beat the Dame. She’d been stupid to think that she could have.
Gemma smiled weakly at Chantelle. ‘I’m sure it won’t impact on us at all,’ she said with all the bravado she could muster. ‘Anyway I’m glad you’re here. Come downstairs with me; I’m having coffee with Laura.’ The women stepped into the lift and continued to discuss the implications of this A-lister’s attendance at the Rum Ball.