The End of Cuthbert Close

by Cassie Hamer

  ‘Me too,’ said Cara. ‘She’s lucky …’

  And I need her to stay that way.

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  Beth closed the French doors behind her, relieved. The house was quiet. Ethan and Chloe were probably upstairs, ensconced in homework, hopefully.

  More likely plugged into their devices.

  But at least it gave her a moment to mull over Cara’s advice. That comment she’d made, about Max giving her a reason not to trust him – it was absolutely true. This was mostly his fault, not hers. She deserved answers.

  ‘That you, Beth?’

  She jumped, hand flying to her chest. Max. He was home early.

  ‘Yes, it’s me. Just been over at Cara’s.’ She walked tentatively into the living room. Max was on the couch, tapping away at his phone, tie loosened and top buttons undone.

  An idea struck her. ‘Feel like going for a walk with me?’

  He looked up in surprise. ‘Don’t you need to get the dinner on?’

  ‘It’s done. A shepherd’s pie that I made and froze last week. We’ve got time. Just a stroll around the block, I promise.’

  ‘Sure,’ he said with uncertainty. ‘Can I just get my joggers on?’

  ‘Oh, don’t worry about that.’ She waved her hand airily, ignoring her thumping heart. ‘Come as you are. It’s not a race or anything. I just need a bit of fresh air. Blow the cobwebs away after last night.’

  He peered at her. ‘I thought you’d be tired from the carnival.’

  ‘Me? Oh, no. I’m good.’ She shifted her weight. ‘Shall we go?’

  Outside, Beth breathed deeply. The street lights blinked into life. Max followed her down the footpath and she slowed to let him catch her.

  ‘So, that was quite the excitement at the carnival today,’ she said. ‘Did you get back to work okay?’

  ‘All fine. Charlie brought me home to get a change of clothes and then gave me a lift to work. She’s really quite friendly once you get to know her.’

  And just how well do you know her?

  ‘She seems an … interesting woman.’ Beth brushed a strand of hair out of her eyes. ‘Talia’s a sweetheart.’

  ‘Hm.’

  The sky was soft indigo now and the moon was starting to transform from transparent tissue to white satin.

  They walked on and turned the corner.

  ‘Max,’ Beth started. ‘I need to ask you something.’

  ‘Sounds serious.’

  ‘It is.’ She put her hand out to make him stop. Her heart knocked against her ribs. ‘Max, I don’t quite know how to ask this, so I’m just going to say it.’ She took a deep breath, the air whooshing through her O-shaped lips. ‘All right, here goes.’ She took another breath.

  ‘What is it? Just say it.’ Max stood in the middle of the footpath, hands on hips.

  Beth clasped her fingers and dropped her gaze.

  She couldn’t do it.

  She couldn’t ask the question. Putting it out there would be like releasing a helium balloon to the sky. It would never be re-caught. It would be out there, always, flying away from them out of reach. And even if it disappeared, the knowledge of it out there, floating somewhere, would always haunt them.

  A question like that could damage a relationship irreparably.

  If it wasn’t true, it would be a crack in their nineteen-year marriage, not necessarily ruined, but certainly flawed. Their minds would worry on it, and return to it, like a tongue going back to a chipped tooth.

  On the other hand, if it was true, she would find out in time. There’d already been clues. There’d be more, if there was more to find. What was Aunty Marg’s favourite Buddhist saying? There were three things that could not hide for long – the sun, the moon and the truth. Then again, thanks to three divorces, Marg also believed all men were arseholes. Never mind. She would just have to be patient. Prepare herself. Get Nourish up and running, just in case she needed some back-up funds. After the anniversary party, that’s when she would ask him. True, going ahead with the celebration meant it would be something of a sham. But it was just for one night, and it would certainly be a better option than cancelling on all their friends and family.

  Max’s pocket bleeped and he looked at Beth expectantly, waiting. ‘Beth? What did you want to ask me?’ The phone bleeped again.

  ‘Oh, it’s nothing.’ She waved her hand dismissively. ‘Answer your phone.’

  He reached for his pocket, the screen casting a strange glow over his face. ‘It’s Charlie Devine,’ he said, frowning. ‘She’s got a problem with her fuse box and wants to know if I can help.’

  ‘Can’t one of the junior agents help her? Or an electrician?’

  I could call Adam … Wait, no. I need to forget all about him.

  ‘I could get one of them,’ he mused. ‘But seeing as I’m here, it sort of makes sense for me to go over there. Be neighbourly and all, like you’re always telling me. Probably just needs a switch to be flicked.’

  ‘Oh, fine then,’ said Beth, folding her arms.

  ‘I can tell her to wait, if you want to keep walking?’ he offered.

  ‘No, no, it’s okay. It was nothing important. But I might walk on a bit.’ She gestured to the footpath leading further away from the close and into the darkness. ‘I’ll see you back home.’

  ‘Okay then.’

  Without another word, they went their separate ways.

  ThePrimalGuy.com.au

  From: The Primal Guy

  Subject: Relationships

  Hey Prime-Ordial Beings,

  How hard is it to be away from the people you love most in the world? I’ll tell you. It’s frickin’ hard. I miss being a family so bad it hurts. Like really hurts, in my gut.

  But it got me thinking. Why? I got food. I got water. I got people around me. But something’s missing. My family. But what makes us want to stick together? To commit, forever?

  ’Cause in the beginning, it wasn’t like that. It wasn’t like that at all. We were basically animals, after all, and it was all about the law of the jungle. The strongest dudes. The toughest. The meanest. They were the ones who got all the ladies and got to procreate with them.

  But something changed. The weaklings wised up. They figured out that if they had something to offer the females – like better food, or shelter – then the chicks would dig them more and – here’s the biggie – they’d stick with them.

  Monogamy was born. It made, like, total sense, because now the mums also had a partner who’d be around to help out with the kids, instead of being out sowing his wild oats. And it was good for the tribe, ’cause kids could be hard work – couldn’t walk, couldn’t talk, couldn’t get their own food – but now there was this thing called a family, and people were co-operating and, you know where we’d be without co-operation and new generations of kids? Nowhere!

  Okay, so now it’s different. Now, there’s a million and one choices and distractions and it seems like it’s harder than ever to make a commitment and stick to it.

  It’s not. It’s natural. It’s evolution. It’s how we got here.

  Peace out,

  Ryan (AKA the Primal Guy)

  PS Running a 50% discount for this week only on my manifesto: ‘From Pen-Pusher to Primal Guy’. 384 pages on how I ditched the corporate life and claimed a new one by touching my inner homo-sapiens.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  Cara stood at the doorway to Beth’s kitchen and held up an empty platter. ‘Have we got any more of the wagyu pies? They disappeared in two seconds flat.’

  Beth slammed shut the oven door. ‘Excellent,’ she said through gritted teeth.

  Cara stopped, tongs in the air. ‘He’ll be here, he’s just running late, probably.’

  ‘Then why hasn’t he called? Or messaged? We all know how much he loves messaging.’

  So far, everything at the launch party had gone perfectly – the food was delicious, the neighbours were loving it, and many had already placed orders on the menu sheets pr
epared by Cara. It had all the ingredients for a perfect party, but there was just one thing missing.

  Max.

  In the days since her aborted conversation about the messages things between them had been tense, but Beth hadn’t had time to dwell on it as she and Cara went full steam ahead for the Nourish launch party.

  ‘If it’s any consolation, my parents are late as well.’ A troubled look came over Cara’s face.

  Okay – so there were three things, or people, missing. Max, and Cara’s parents. Only the three most important people, in terms of help and support.

  ‘They’ve got a long way to come. Peak-hour traffic is always awful. I’m sure it’s just that,’ said Beth, injecting confidence into her voice.

  ‘Same with Max.’

  Tossing a tea towel over her shoulder, Beth took her wooden spoon and gave the saucepan a stir. ‘The chicken curry’s just about right. Are those boxes ready to go?’

  Cara checked the line of cardboard containers. ‘All filled with rice. Coriander chopped?’

  ‘Just here.’ Beth gave a nod towards a bowl on her right. ‘How about you do another pass with the pies. I’ll start serving out the curry and you can do the garnish when you come back.’

  ‘Perfect.’ Cara sailed out of the kitchen and towards the hubbub of voices coming from the front yard.

  Beth dipped her spoon into the curry and closed her eyes as she consciously tested her tastebuds for the flavours – top notes of cumin and coriander, a little heat underneath from the ginger, a hint of tang from the tomato paste and the smooth creaminess of coconut milk. She frowned. It was all there, but it was just a little flat.

  Cara was back. The tray empty, again.

  ‘Can you try this?’ Beth cleaned off the spoon, dipped it into the curry and offered it to Cara who closed her eyes as she swished the sauce about her mouth.

  ‘Needs a pinch more salt to bring it to life.’

  ‘That’s it exactly. Sorry. Blame my absent husband for distracting me.’ She took a generous pinch of salt from the bowl, stirred it in and tasted again. Perfect. Lively. Amazing how such a small intervention could completely tip the balance.

  ‘Let’s get it out while everyone’s still hungry,’ said Cara.

  ‘Did someone say hungry?’ Alex hurried into the kitchen. ‘I am completely ravenous.’ She leant against the bench and eased a heel out of her shiny black stilettos.

  ‘You’ve come to the right place then. The twins here?’ asked Beth.

  ‘Outside with James scoffing pies,’ said Alex, slipping her shoe back on and picking up a tray. ‘Can I make myself useful?’

  ‘Sure can. Max was supposed to be helping … but he’s not here yet.’ Beth started placing the filled curry boxes onto her tray.

  ‘Hang on. Garnish.’ Cara scooted over with coriander in one hand and a lime in the other. ‘Makes all the difference.’

  Alex stood back and watched them. ‘Watching you ladies work together in the kitchen is like watching a choreographed ballet. It’s bloody beautiful.’

  Cara chuckled. ‘I don’t think anyone would pay to see it, though.’

  ‘No, but they’ll pay for the food that comes out of it.’ Alex collected the completed tray. ‘I’ll get at least another couple of the neighbours on board with this lot.’ She stopped at the door. ‘Oh, hey, Cara, I think your parents just arrived. I saw them on my way into the kitchen. I’ll go and say hello.’

  ‘Oh, thank you! Tell them I’ll be out in a few minutes. Just need to check some things to make sure we’re on track.’

  Cara faced the stove and mentally ticked off the menu list, while Beth opened the oven door and inhaled the sweet saltiness of the pumpkin and sage risotto. ‘Nearly done. Just needs to absorb a little more of the stock and we’re good to go.’ Beth pulled on a pair of washing-up gloves and turned the tap to hot. ‘Why don’t you go say hi to your parents while I get started on this? We’ve got time.’

  ‘That would be great.’ Cara whipped off her apron and straightened her hair. ‘I’ll only be a second.’

  Beth plunged her hands into the water and let her mind wander as she so often did while doing the washing up. Where could Max be? She’d been counting on him being home by six to help hand around the food. Now it was nearly seven.

  ‘Would you like some help?’ Talia Devine stood at the kitchen island. In her hands was a pile of letters and catalogues. ‘Mum noticed your letterbox was full,’ she explained.

  Beth felt a jolt of irritation. Couldn’t Charlie Devine worry about her own letterbox instead of poking her nose into other people’s? For a woman who wanted space, she was certainly making a habit of inserting herself into Beth’s life. And Max’s.

  Talia picked up a tea towel.

  ‘You don’t have to, Talia. I’m happy to do it,’ said Beth.

  ‘No, it’s fine. Mum puts everything in the dishwasher, but I actually don’t mind washing up. Beats homework, anyway.’

  Beth snapped off her gloves. ‘Have you had something to eat? I know a lot of our food doesn’t fit your mum’s diet, but I have a couple of sneaky pies here if you’d like one.’

  As Talia went to answer, Alex swept into the kitchen with a very pale-looking Jasper on her hip and Noah dawdling in her skirt. ‘Sorry to do this, Beth, but we’re going to have to take off. Jasper feels like he’s about to vomit and Noah says he’s got tummy pains too. You’re under control here?’

  ‘Not the food that’s made them sick, I hope.’ Beth rubbed the limp Jasper’s back and winked at the unusually wan Noah.

  ‘Ha! No. More likely the bug that’s been going round at school.’ Alex inclined her head at Talia. ‘This one’s been helping me with the kids. Total sweetie.’ Talia accepted the compliment with a small nod and Alex kissed Beth on the cheek. ‘Beautiful food, Bethy. I convinced the architects on the corner to order a month’s worth.’

  Beth inhaled. ‘That’s wonderful. Thank you, Alex.’

  ‘Don’t thank me. Thank those amazing cooking skills of yours. Just think, all those hundreds of thousands of meals you’ve made for your family over the years – it was all training for this.’

  Beth squeezed her friend’s shoulder and stroked Jasper’s hair. ‘I hope your little men are okay.’

  ‘They’ll be fine.’ Alex hoisted Jasper higher on her hip and turned for the door.

  ‘Your house is very clean.’ Jasper lifted his head briefly off his mother’s shoulder.

  ‘And you have lots of nice things,’ added Noah, trailing behind. The boys had spent most of the party marauding around, playing hide and seek. Not that Beth had minded, it reminded her of Chloe and Ethan’s noisy years when they’d filled the rooms with shouting and boisterous games. It was so much quieter now.

  ‘Well, we have lots of toys,’ Beth overhead Alex say defensively. ‘And our house is very clean on Tuesdays after Alma has come.’

  Beth gave a wry smile at the retreating trio.

  ‘I’d better go too. Homework calls.’ Talia finished drying the pot in her hand and hung the tea towel over the oven handle.

  ‘Wait. Take these.’ Beth packed two wagyu pies into a plastic container. She’d been saving them for Ethan and Chloe to take to school but Talia seemed to need them more. ‘Our little secret.’ She put a finger to her lips. ‘And here’s some risotto for later.’

  ‘Thank you, Mrs Chandler … uh, Beth, I mean. I’ll make sure she doesn’t find out.’ Talia made her way slowly out of the kitchen with the containers balanced carefully.

  ‘Talia … shit. Sorry.’ It was Max, in such a bumbling rush that he’d nearly caused the food to tumble right out of the teenager’s hand.

  ‘Max,’ Beth admonished. ‘Language.’

  ‘It’s all right, Mr Chandler. I’m pretty good at juggling.’ Talia grinned and looked from Beth to Max. Noting their stricken faces, her smile faded. ‘I better go.’

  ‘Thanks again for the help.’

  Max waited for the teenager to leave. ‘I know w
hat you’re going to say—’

  Beth took in her husband’s slightly damp hair and casual shorts. ‘Have you been at the gym?’ she burst out. ‘You know how important this night is for me. For Cara. For our business. And you went to the gym instead?’

  ‘Not deliberately.’ His face hardened. ‘I forgot. I just forgot. Honestly. You don’t have to go on.’

  Beth’s eyes narrowed. She picked up a tea towel and started wiping furiously. ‘You think that makes it okay? That I’m so unimportant you just forgot me?’

  ‘No, no, I didn’t mean it like that.’ He ran a hand through his slickened hair. ‘It was just crazy at work. I didn’t have a minute to think. I was on autopilot.’

  ‘That’s right, Max. You are on autopilot. And not just tonight, either. Sometimes, it feels like you’ve checked out of this family altogether.’

  ‘Are you serious? I’m working my arse off for you guys.’ He shook his head and his voice softened. ‘I really am sorry, Bethy. I’m going to go outside and talk to the neighbours and hopefully drum up a bit more business for you.’ He stopped. ‘I do want this to work for you. Truly.’

  Why? So the kids and I have some money to live on when you’re gone?

  Beth’s skin prickled. ‘Go then.’

  And he did. Shoulders slumped, he made his way slowly into the front garden. She watched him, doing the rounds of the neighbours, shaking hands, patting kids on the head, doing the sales pitch that always came so naturally to him. That was the thing with Max, you never quite knew what was spin and what was just him – his natural enthusiasm and friendliness. He probably didn’t know himself, the two blended so seamlessly together.

  Shaking herself out of thought, Beth went to make space on the bench for the risotto. She picked up the pile of mail brought in by Talia. Bills, mostly. Marketing guff from real estate agents. Couple of supermarket catalogues.

  Then, something different.

  A plain white business envelope. No postmarks. No address at all. Beth ripped it open and removed a piece of paper, blue with pink lines. She opened it. A message, handwritten in large capital letters.

  I KNOW WHAT YOU’RE DOING AND I THINK IT’S DISGUSTING. BE HONEST. TELL THE TRUTH