by Cassie Hamer
‘I know.’ She couldn’t look at him. ‘And it was a very nice kiss. Very nice. But I think I need something else right now.’
‘Something else?’ He grinned wolfishly. ‘We can do something else if you’d like.’
‘No, no, sorry, that’s not what I meant.’ Beth fidgeted with the strap on her handbag. ‘I think I need to go home, that’s all. I’m sorry.’
Adam cocked his head to the side. ‘My mum does that too.’
‘What? Kisses random young men in nightclubs and then runs away?’
‘No,’ he said seriously. ‘Apologises for things when they’re not her fault.’
‘A mother thinks everything is her fault.’ Beth went to kiss him on the cheek. A chaste, motherly kiss. ‘But thank you.’
‘Hang on, I’ll get you a cab.’ The street was empty, save for a single taxi pulling up slowly at the rank. ‘Do you mind if we share? I’m buggered.’ He stood by the passenger door and held it open for her.
‘Of course not.’ She hopped in. ‘What kind of work do you do?’
‘I’m a sparky … electrician.’ He slid smoothly into the seat beside her.
Sparky … indeed.
The idea of him rewiring her house caused her cheeks to redden.
In the cab they were silent. Adam scrolled through his phone, while Beth looked out the window at the houses passing them by. Their unblinking, window eyes, sharing nothing of all that lay behind them.
The cab pulled up to a stop in Cuthbert Close.
‘This is me.’ Beth leant forward to pay the driver but Adam took her hand.
‘Let me take care of it.’
Before Beth could thank him, Adam had jumped out of the car and jogged around to open the door. His manners really were refreshingly impeccable.
If only Cara was interested. If only Chloe was ten years older. If only I wasn’t married and old enough to be his mother.
‘Thank you.’ Beth stood awkwardly next to the taxi. She wanted to say something to explain herself, to make him understand why she’d wanted to kiss him, how attracted she was, to make sense of her own madness.
She leant in. ‘You’re a lovely man … A real credit to your parents,’ she whispered in his ear and immediately cringed. She’d always been terrible at sexy-talk. That bit certainly hadn’t changed.
Adam gave her a final crinkly smile and kissed her on the forehead. ‘Night, Beth.’
On the footpath, Beth stood and waited until the red lights of the cab faded out of Cuthbert Close. Gosh, she was tired. All the alcohol and dancing, she supposed. And kissing.
She shivered. Leant against the gate. She needed to compose herself. What if Max was awake?
The moon was bright, and it shone particularly brightly on her house. Her home. A little worn about the edges now. Could probably do with a new paint job. Houses were a lot of ongoing maintenance. Bit like marriage really.
Beth tiptoed through the gate, which seemed to squeak more loudly than usual when she opened it. Or maybe it was just the contrast against the silence of the night.
She stopped. From the corner of her eye, she saw a curtain fall closed at number twenty-five, the Pezzullos’ old place, or rather, the Devines’ now. She checked her watch. 1:30 am. Was Charlie still awake? Maybe she’d only just got home herself. Beth waited for further signs of life, a light, or something, but none came. The house was dark and still. Beth continued towards her own front door. She must have been seeing things. It was probably just a trick of the light, not really what it seemed at all.
ThePrimalGuy.com.au
From: The Primal Guy
Subject: Reinventing Yourself
Hey Prime-Numbers,
A stack of dudes (and dudettes) come to The Primal Guy because they wanna reinvent themselves. They say ‘Ryan – how’d you do it, bro? How’d you go from being a douche-bag soft-arse pen-pusher, to being a lean, mean, pre-historic fighting machine?’
You know what? I could give them a bunch of BS about how I was miserable in my job, and felt like I wasn’t living my best life, and you know, crack out the violins and cry me a river.
The truth is this – I wanted to look at myself in a mirror, and like the way I looked in the buff. That’s it! I wanted to look good naked, and I wanted others to admire me. I mean, can you get more superficial than that?
But hey, it worked. 300,000 followers can’t be wrong, right? We’re all pretty surface-level, when you get down to it.
Now I’m in this new place. And I’m having to reinvent myself all over again. Sometimes, it’s tiring, you know. Sometimes, I wish I could just be the tired, grumpy, lazy dick that’s still hiding inside me, somewhere.
But no one wants that guy. They want the Primal Guy. Actually, they want Primal Guy 2.0. The ‘evolved’ paleo guy. And hell, I can do that. I’ll dance however they want me to dance. ’Cause at the end of the day, it doesn’t matter which way you get there, it just matters that you get where you want to go.
Peace out,
Ryan (AKA the Primal Guy)
PS Buy one smoothie bottle, get one free for this week only! So great for shaking up smoothies Mon–Fri, then cocktails for the weekend. Hey! A little cheat every now and again is okay by me. No one’s perfect, right?!
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Alex scooted around the kitchen bench to the fridge where she expertly withdrew the milk from the door with maximum efficiency and lobbed a dash into her tea, all without spilling a drop.
She was on fire this morning. Already, she’d shot off emails to a soccer academy and a jujitsu club, asking for the twins to be enrolled as a matter of urgency. She’d also made enquiries with a tutoring service that ran three-hour classes on Saturday mornings for five year olds. Socialisation and academic support – that’s what Noah needed.
Her Fitbit buzzed. One thousand steps and it wasn’t even 7 am. Her wrist vibrated in celebration. She’d even managed to not burn the twins’ toast. Already, they were dressed and ready for school and playing outside. This was her day. She. Had. This.
Tea in hand, Alex perched on a stool across the kitchen island from her husband, busy eating his cornflakes.
‘I Spy a woman on a mission.’ He winked.
‘With a capital M.’ Alex blew the steam and sipped. ‘Now, you be Martin and I’ll be … well … I’ll be me.’
‘Martin …’ he mused. ‘That’s the Pommy one, isn’t it? Looks like a chipmunk.’
‘More squirrel, I’d say.’
‘Right.’ James munched thoughtfully.
‘Okay … so, here’s what I’ll say.’ Alex took a breath. ‘Martin, thank you for taking the time to meet with me.’
James cocked his head. ‘Awright, geezer. What’s up wiv ya. Know what I mean?’
Alex snorted and tea flew out of her nose. ‘He’s not the Artful Dodger! He’s more … Prince Philip.’
‘I see.’ James straightened and looked down his nose. ‘Top of the morning to you, Dame Alex. How can one be of service on this fine-looking day?’
‘Can you please take this seriously.’
James slurped the dregs of his cereal. ‘I don’t know what you’re so worried about.’ He rose and came around the bench to kiss her but Alex recoiled and pointed to his chin.
‘You’ve got a cornflake.’
James popped the offending flake into his mouth and chomped on it. ‘You’re completely entitled to ask for flexible work arrangements. It’s the law. And contrary to your fears that cutting back to three days will leave us destitute on the street, I can assure you they are unfounded. So really, what’s the worst that can happen?’
Alex tightened her grip on the mug. ‘That Martin says no, questions my commitment to the job and starts giving me minor matters that even Brianna could do with her eyes closed, so then I’m stuck doing a job that sends my brain to sleep.’
‘A lot of people would love to sleepwalk through their jobs. Actually, a lot already do.’ He paused to look right into her eyes. ‘Don’t sell yo
urself short. You’re great at what you do. They love you there.’ Breaking eye contact, James put his bowl into the dishwasher and closed the door with a firm shove as if he were quite finished with the conversation.
‘Could you please be more gentle with the dishwasher. They cost a fortune to fix,’ she said tightly.
‘Yes, sir.’ James gave a mock salute and smiled.
Ugh. So annoying. He didn’t get it. The guilt. The feeling that she was backing away from everything that she and her parents had worked, and sacrificed, for. They didn’t give up years of family holidays just so she could turn around and back off when things got a little tough.
Alex drained the rest of her tea into the sink. ‘I’ve got to run. You’re okay to drop the boys?’ she called over her shoulder, collecting her keys and bag as she sailed towards the front door.
James stood in the doorway behind her. ‘Hey! You forgot something.’ He pointed to his cheek. ‘Kiss?’
Alex stopped, eyebrows raised. ‘Really? I have to go.’ She looked at her watch.
He nodded and took a few steps towards her. ‘I’m sorry about the dishwasher.’ He deposited a soft kiss on her cheek and whispered in her ear, ‘I’ll be more gentle next time.’
As her husband held his lips against her cheek, Alex felt her frustration ebbing. It wasn’t his fault that he’d had the kind of childhood where money was never a problem, where he could go out to dinner and have his own drink and his own dessert. That’s what she wanted for the boys. Choices. No fears or worries.
‘I’ll see you tonight.’ Alex withdrew and hurried out the door. The boys were in the Devines’ front yard with Talia, sitting and stroking a white ball of fluff.
‘He loves a scratch just behind his ears. Like this,’ said Talia, demonstrating.
‘Like this?’ Noah pumped his hands up and down on the cat’s head. ‘Look! He loves it!’
‘Boys, I’m going,’ Alex called. ‘Come and give me a kiss.’
‘Hi, Mrs O’Rourke.’ Talia rose and waved. ‘Go on, boys. Say bye to your mum,’ she urged.
The boys hurled themselves into their mother’s legs, kissed her somewhere near her hip and bolted back to the cat. Alex went to hop into her car, but stopped with her fingers on the handle. ‘Say, Talia. I don’t suppose you’d be interested in babysitting for us sometime?’
‘Yay, you could bring Banjo!’ Noah’s eyes shone.
The cat that murdered your guinea pig?
The girl beamed. ‘Sure, Mrs O’Rourke. I’d love that.’
‘Call me Alex, please.’
‘I’m not sure that’s a good idea.’ Twenty feet away, in the shadow of the front door, stood Charlie Devine. Arms folded.
‘Oh, sorry Charlie. Didn’t see you there.’ Alex shielded her eyes and Charlie walked closer, dressed as usual in her all-white, form-fitting activewear. The woman’s penchant for such a pure hue verged on … well, it was almost like a uniform, like a cult leader might wear.
‘Talia’s never babysat before.’
‘Mum, I’ll be fine,’ said Talia.
‘I don’t mind if she doesn’t have experience. Everyone has to start somewhere,’ said Alex. ‘The boys really seem to love her, and that’s all that matters to me. And I’m sure the extra cash for Talia wouldn’t hurt.’
Charlie glared. ‘We’re not that desperate for money and I don’t believe in child labour. Talia has everything she needs.’
Alex tensed. There was nothing wrong with teenagers having a part-time job. She’d worked all through her high-school years to buy the things she didn’t entirely need, and her parents couldn’t afford. Brand-name jeans and Doc Martens, for instance.
‘Please, Mum. Please,’ Talia begged.
Ignoring her, Charlie tapped her very fancy-looking smart watch. White, of course. ‘It’s getting late. You need to come inside now and get ready for school.’
‘Boys, you too. Time to brush teeth. Dad’s inside to help you. Let’s go. Scoot,’ Alex ushered them in the direction of the house.
‘C’mon, Banjo.’ Talia collected the cat and trudged inside, her mother’s hand in the small of her back. Alex watched from her car. At the door, the girl stopped and waved wanly, her freckles now more pronounced against the backdrop of her pale face.
What is going on inside that house?
Alex was transfixed.
Charlie followed Talia, and as the teenager went inside Alex had the sense of her being pushed by her mother towards a dark, cavernous hole.
Charlie paused and looked back at Alex, an expression of … was it anger? Shit, she’d made her neighbour cross, again, for what seemed like no justifiable reason. All she’d done was to suggest Talia do some babysitting. What was wrong with that? If anything, Alex should be the one who was angry – all that judgement about kids not working. It was offensive.
The door slammed, cutting through the quiet of the morning. Yes, definitely angry. Alex flinched, and started to move. She didn’t have time to worry about Charlie Devine. She had a meeting to get to.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Beth woke with a gasp, her head pounding. She sat bolt upright, and her hand searched for the glass of water she always kept by the bed. Her mouth was as dry as a chip and a feeling of doom sat heavily in her chest. What a terrible, terrible dream! What had happened in it? Her brain sifted slowly through the fragments. Yes, that’s right. She’d been in a nightclub, dancing, and then she’d kissed another man. Actually kissed him on the lips. There might have been tongues. Then Max had turned up with a gun and waved it around at this nice young man even though Beth was shouting at him that it had just been a kiss and nothing more, and there was no need for anyone to be shot, especially when Max himself was sending strange text messages. What were they about? He had to tell her before shooting anyone.
There’d been a bang.
That’s when I woke.
That sound had been terribly real. What was it? Beth lay still, the house silent. From outside came the sound of light footsteps on their front path. She sat up in the bed to see out the window. There was Ethan, his arm slung around Chloe’s shoulder. The bang must have been the front door closing. On the street, Max’s car idled at the curb. He must have agreed to drive them to school.
Beth felt a pang of guilt as she watched them trudge towards the gate, with Chloe clutching tightly to a bag that Beth recognised as her swimming gear.
Swimming. That was odd. Today was Wednesday, wasn’t it? Beth fought through her brain fog to remember. Yes, yesterday was definitely Tuesday, which meant today was Wednesday the fourth of March, if her memory served correctly. There was something about that date. Something she had to remember. Something important. She closed her eyes and had nearly drifted off again when it came to her.
The swimming carnival. She clapped her hand to her forehead and checked the time. 8:20 am. Ten minutes until she was due at the pool, twenty minutes’ drive away, for the sports teacher Miss Liu’s pre-carnival briefing. She threw on clothes, pulled a comb through her hair and raced downstairs for her keys and wallet. She stopped at the fridge. There was a note, in Ethan’s handwriting.
Hi Mum, the question I wanted to ask is – are you still coming to the carnival today? Chloe really wants you there.
Her heart twinged again. The poor kids. Why hadn’t they woken her? Oh, wait, they had. Or, at least they’d tried. Now she remembered. They’d both come into the room, separately, tiptoed to her side, and breathed, watching her. At one point, she’d sensed Ethan about to speak and she’d held up a hand, without opening her eyes.
‘Please, don’t.’
Away he’d crept.
And what of Max? He’d gone to boot camp, presumably, as he always did on a Wednesday at the crack of dawn. Normally, she would have woken with him and had her first cup of tea. The close was always so beautifully still and fresh at that time of morning, like a newly washed sheet.
But this morning, when the bed had creaked, she’d rolled the other way. She’d b
arely slept a wink after the club. Instead, she’d stared at the Uluru shape of her husband in the bed and wondered how a person could be so close and yet still so far away.
Oh, goodness. 8:23 am.
Beth popped a couple of Panadol, scurried to the car and took off down the close at a speed she would never usually have approved of.
Turning the corner, she slowed. Wait. Was that Talia Devine dawdling on the footpath? She was definitely going to miss the bus from school to the carnival. Would Charlie mind if Beth gave her a lift? Was that interfering? She checked her rear-view mirror before slowing down.
‘Morning, Talia.’
‘Hi, Mrs Chandler.’ The girl gave her a friendly wave.
‘Would you like a lift? I’m headed to the pool for the carnival.’
Talia bit her lip.
‘It’s fine, hon, if you think your mum wouldn’t like it, I understand. It’s just … I think you’ve missed the bus and you might be stuck at school.’
‘Thanks, Mrs Chandler. That’d be great.’ Talia scampered towards the car.
‘It’s Beth, remember. Chloe and Ethan’s friends all call me Beth.’
Talia grinned and did up her seatbelt. ‘Thanks … Beth. Really appreciate it.’
‘No problem, Talia. It’s what any neighbour would do.’
Except Charlie Devine, she thought darkly, and then felt immediately guilty.
You live next to each other. You have to get along. Try to understand her.
‘Your mum busy this morning?’ asked Beth lightly.
‘Not really. She’s gone out for a run.’
‘She’s very fit. I guess it’s part of her job, really.’
‘I suppose so.’
The car fell silent. Beth flicked on the indicator. She didn’t like silences in the car. ‘We ran into her last night, actually. Alex and Cara and I. She was having a business meeting.’
‘At the pub. I know.’ Talia delivered this with a sigh, as if it had happened many times before, and she didn’t quite approve.
‘Actually, the girls and I were having a business meeting too. We’re setting up a food business to make delicious meals for time-poor parents. It’s called Nourish.’