by Susan Lewis
‘Wrong,’ he repeated scathingly.
‘No, not wrong, just …’
‘She’s always been in the house before.’
‘I know, but …’
‘You don’t have to hide behind her. I get that it’s not the same for you …’
‘Stop putting words in my mouth,’ she cried. ‘You’re not listening to me; you’re not even trying to understand. What I’m attempting to say is that I don’t feel comfortable about making love while she’s … experiencing the sexual feelings she is.’
‘And us not being intimate is going to solve it?’
‘Of course not. I don’t know what is; all I know is that I can hardly think about anything else and if we make love I don’t want her to be in my head making me feel … Oh god, I don’t know how it makes me feel …’
‘Mummy?’
Charlotte swung round to see Chloe standing at the foot of the stairs. How long had she been there? How much had she heard? ‘What are you doing out of bed?’ she demanded. ‘It’s late …’
‘I couldn’t sleep. Please can I come into your bed?’
Charlotte glanced at Anthony, and could tell by the way he was holding himself how angry he was. It was making her angry too. ‘I’ll come and sleep with you,’ she told Chloe.
Anthony got abruptly to his feet. ‘So it’s going to start again?’ he muttered as Charlotte made to leave the terrace.
Knowing he was referring to the times she’d slept with Chloe after Elodie was born, she said, ‘Do you want me to bring her into our bed?’
Knocking back his drink, he replaced the glass on the table and strode down towards the vines.
‘Is he cross?’ Chloe asked worriedly as Charlotte joined her.
‘He’s had a difficult day,’ Charlotte replied, turning Chloe around and ushering her back up the stairs.
‘Did you tell him about Olivia’s party?’
‘Yes, I did. He was very happy for you. Now go along into bed, I’ll be there in a minute.’
Closing the door to her own room, Charlotte put her head against it and clasped a hand tightly to her mouth. She should have told Anthony what she’d discovered on Chloe’s iPad today; it wasn’t so bad really, was it? Lots of children had similar thoughts – but even if they did they weren’t all as emotionally unbalanced, or as young, as Chloe.
As he strode down through the vines, still furious beyond reason, Anthony took out his phone to call Zoe. God only knew how he’d made himself resist her earlier, or how they’d managed to discuss nothing but the brochure all the way back in the car, but he wasn’t up for discussing a brochure now, or for resisting her. He was going to take her in any and every way she wanted, and if she wasn’t ready to let him go at the end of it, he’d stay and give her a whole lot more.
Chapter Seven
Charlotte’s persistent headache didn’t seem as severe this morning. Not because she’d slept well, because she hadn’t, nor had she made up with Anthony when he’d returned in the early hours. It had simply dropped to a lower level that no longer blurred her vision or made her feel her head was about to explode. Nonetheless, she was still feeling anxious and edgy, and was far more irritable with Cooper than he’d deserved before Rowan, now back on her feet, had whisked him off to kindi.
She’d make it up to him later. What mattered now was that the shock of what she’d discovered yesterday on Chloe’s iPad had faded into a realisation that she’d overreacted. Not that it shouldn’t be taken seriously, because it should, but she’d talk to Chloe about it when the time was right; until then she’d make sure Chloe didn’t go online again. Perhaps, with the prospect of Olivia’s party on the horizon, confiscating the iPad wouldn’t blow up into yet another terrible scene.
She could always hope.
‘Would you like a coffee?’ she offered, as Anthony came into the kitchen. She felt absurdly awkward with him, as if he’d become a stranger overnight, so she wasn’t sure what to say.
‘Thanks,’ he responded, keeping his eyes on his phone.
Should she ask where he’d spent most of the night? Did she want to know? ‘Are you going out before the social worker comes at eleven?’ she asked, passing the coffee.
His head came up and she saw right away how strained he looked. She was responsible for that, but so was he. ‘I’d forgotten it was this morning,’ he sighed. ‘I’m afraid I can’t be there. Will just rang. His mother’s been taken to hospital and Wineworks are coming to collect the Pinot Gris.’
‘At what time?’
‘Eleven. I’m sorry, I wanted to be there …’
‘Doesn’t Will have an assistant these days?’
‘The boy’s an intern. He can’t handle …’
‘It’s OK,’ she cut in shortly, turning away.
‘I know it’s not, but there isn’t much I can do about it now.’
‘I said it’s OK.’
Sighing again, he returned to his phone and was about to take a call when Charlotte suddenly blurted, ‘Did you spend the night with Zoe?’
His eyes darkened as he let the call go to messages.
Already regretting the outburst, she struggled for a way to take it back.
‘Would it matter if I did?’ he countered sharply.
Aware of a horrible heat spreading through her, she said, ‘Why don’t you just answer the question?’
For a moment she thought he was going to avoid it again, until finally he said, ‘I’ll admit that I thought about it.’
Feeling as though he’d slapped her, she turned away and continued to clear up the children’s breakfast dishes; the world, her thoughts, her life seemed to be crushing her. ‘So why didn’t you?’ she asked, managing to sound as though she wouldn’t care if he had.
Finishing the coffee, he put his cup down and said, ‘Next time I will.’
As he reached the door, she shouted, ‘So where did you spend it?’
Ignoring her, he continued across the terrace and round to the car.
‘Anthony, please come back,’ she cried, going after him. ‘I’m sorry … I shouldn’t have asked that …’
He wasn’t listening. He got into the Volvo and reversed ready to drive off.
Running to block the way, she spread out her arms and felt so strange for a moment that it was like she’d slipped into a dream. Ribbons of light were threading through her eyes, a strange noise was drowning her ears. ‘Did you really think about going to her?’ she finally managed.
He didn’t answer, only glared at her.
Oh god, oh god. ‘But you didn’t go?’
‘No.’
‘So where were you until three?’
‘At Rick’s.’
Standing aside, she watched him drive away, and was still staring down the drive long after he’d gone, unable to make her mind function past the fact that he’d considered going to Zoe. It could only mean that he knew it was an option, so how did he know, and how long before he took advantage of it? He might even be on his way to her now, perhaps not with the intention of making love, but it could happen if he wanted it to, and she believed that he did.
‘Mummy? There you are,’ Chloe yawned, strolling round from the terrace. ‘Is that lady still coming today?’
‘Yes, she is,’ Charlotte answered, turning to her. ‘You need to get dressed. Would you like some breakfast?’
‘Can we go to Uncle Rick’s for breakfast?’
‘The bistro’s not open on Thursdays, and we need to do some lessons.’
‘Boring.’
Following her back inside, Charlotte went to pick up her phone, wanting to send a text to Anthony, but nothing was feeling right and with Chloe chattering away in her ear she couldn’t make herself think straight.
How can I kill my family and get away with it?
This was the Web search Chloe had carried out, as though the murderous act were some sort of magic trick, and inevitably she’d ended up in a chat room where all sorts of crazy and largely unworkable suggestion
s were being thrown about. Thankfully, there was no evidence of Chloe engaging with any of the chats, but the question had been asked, which was what mattered.
Knowing better than to bring it up before the visit from CYFS – and god forbid it should be mentioned while the woman was here – Charlotte made a note to try and find out when the psych ed was coming, before realising that if she told anyone about the Internet search there was a chance Elodie and Cooper would be removed to get them out of harm’s way.
Desperate to know where to turn, she connected to Rick to make sure he was still up for running the cellar door this morning.
‘Sure I am,’ he replied with a yawn. ‘Good job you rang, I was still asleep.’
‘A late one, was it?’ Charlotte asked, trying to sound wry.
‘It was,’ he confirmed. ‘How’s your husband this morning? Please tell me he also has the hangover from hell.’
So Anthony had been there. Unravelling with relief, she chatted on with Rick for a while, until remembering Chloe was upstairs and might be online again, she told him to call if he needed her and rang off.
Chloe was in her room gluing sparkles on to the dress she and Rick had chosen for her to wear to Olivia’s party.
By eleven o’clock Charlotte still hadn’t heard from Anthony, but rather than torment herself with what he might be doing, she made herself believe in the Wineworks collection in order to keep focused on the visit from CYFS.
The young woman, Pania Brown, arrived on time in a glossy blue pickup and wearing such bright red knee shorts and canary-yellow top that even Chloe blinked when she saw her. What a lovely face she had, all round and smiley, like she never felt anything but happy. She was just the sort of spirit Charlotte needed to lift her own, and as they made small talk over the pouring of lemonade and Chloe’s offering of biscuits Charlotte could feel herself daring to relax.
It lasted only until Chloe asked Pania if she was Maori, though why that should have made her tense she had no idea, especially as Pania merely chuckled a confirmation that she was.
Chloe promptly launched into all the Maori words she knew, and even sang the powhiri – a Maori song to greet visitors – with Pania gamely joining in. They were getting along so famously they might have known each other for months rather than minutes, and Charlotte could only marvel at how well suited Pania was to her job.
At last Chloe was responding to someone who was here to help.
‘I had hoped,’ Pania said to Charlotte as Chloe refilled her glass, ‘that your husband would be here today.’
‘He intended to be,’ Charlotte assured her, knowing that this would be a black mark against him, ‘but our winemaker had a problem this morning that meant Anthony had to stand in for him.’
Pania smiled benignly.
‘He stormed off in a temper last night,’ Chloe informed her.
Shocked, Charlotte said, ‘It had nothing to do with you, and you shouldn’t have been out of bed.’
Seeming not to take much notice, though Charlotte knew she had, Pania said, ‘Shall we start with how well you’re getting on with home-schooling?’
‘He’s not my real daddy,’ Chloe blurted. ‘My real daddy’s in England.’
‘Chloe, Pania asked you a question,’ Charlotte chided, furious that Chloe was doing this. Didn’t she understand what problems she could be creating for herself?
‘I’m just telling her my …’
‘Yes, we got the picture, but you know that Anthony’s your daddy now.’
‘No he isn’t.’
Charlotte looked at Pania. ‘I’m sure you’re fully aware of our situation …’
‘Of course,’ Pania replied. To Chloe, she segued, ‘So tell me, how do you like living here in New Zealand?’
Chloe tilted her head as she thought. ‘Sometimes it’s all right, but other times I just want to go home.’
‘Isn’t this home?’
Chloe shook her head. ‘England’s my home.’
Charlotte wanted to interrupt again, but knew that too much interference from her wouldn’t go down well.
Pania said, ‘But this is where your parents and brother and sister live. Don’t you want to be with them?’
She wants to kill us all. Charlotte couldn’t stop the thought.
Again Chloe was shaking her head.
Charlotte watched Pania write the answer down and felt like throttling Chloe.
‘I want to be with Mummy,’ Chloe ran on, ‘but she doesn’t want to be with me.’
Charlotte’s jaw dropped. ‘Chloe, how can you say that?’ she protested.
Chloe’s eyes remained fixed on Pania.
‘Does Mummy ever say she doesn’t want to be with you?’ Pania asked gently.
‘No, but I can tell.’
Charlotte was dumbfounded. Having never got Chloe to open up to a psychologist, here she was with a social worker telling her things that Charlotte had never heard her say before. They’d have mattered a lot if they were true, but as they weren’t, they mattered for all the wrong reasons.
‘This mummy stole me from my real mummy and daddy,’ Chloe informed Pania. ‘They didn’t want to let me go, but she took me and brought me here.’
Charlotte turned to Pania again. The social worker obviously knew the facts, but what on earth would she be making of this version? Knowing it would have stirred some alarm bells for Charlotte herself when she was doing the job, she said, ‘I’m afraid Chloe seems to be going through a phase of altering the truth …’
‘I am not,’ Chloe shouted. ‘I’m just saying what happened, that’s all.’ To Pania she said, ‘She wanted me then, but she doesn’t now.’
‘Chloe, for heaven’s sake,’ Charlotte cried. ‘Why are you …?’
‘It’s all right,’ Pania said softly, as though letting Charlotte know that she wasn’t taking this too seriously. To Chloe, she said carefully, ‘Do you know where your real mummy and daddy are now?’
‘I’m supposed to think my real mummy is dead, but she isn’t.’
‘What makes you say that?’
Chloe’s eyes went down as she shrugged.
‘What about your daddy?’
Chloe mumbled something and when Pania asked her to repeat it, she shouted, ‘He’s in prison.’
After a moment, Pania said, ‘Do you know why he’s in prison?’
Chloe bowed her head as she muttered no.
Pania turned back to Charlotte. ‘Would you mind if I had a little chat with Chloe on her own?’
Knowing it wouldn’t help if she refused, Charlotte got to her feet. She wanted to remind Pania that she wasn’t a psychologist, that she was here to assess Chloe’s home life, but since Pania was doing exactly that and was, at the same time, managing to get answers that only a professional behaviourist would be qualified to handle, Charlotte could hardly protest.
Upstairs in the bedroom she toyed with the idea of calling Anthony, but decided not to. If she got his voicemail she’d only think the worst, and if he answered she’d probably be told it was a bad time. It would be, if the wine was being collected. After ringing Rowan to ask her to pick up some Panadeine from the pharmacist, she tried her mother, but rang off before Anna could answer.
Realising she didn’t know who she wanted to speak to, or what she wanted to say, she dropped her phone on the bed and sat cradling herself as though trying to hold everything together. It was hard to know what was scaring her the most, the things Chloe might be saying to Pania, and what could happen as a result, the fact that Chloe wanted to kill them all, or the disastrous state of her marriage.
‘She was nice, wasn’t she?’ Chloe said chattily as Pania set off down the drive in her jaunty pickup. ‘I think I’d like to live with her.’
Not rising to it, Charlotte turned her around and steered her back inside. To her surprise Pania hadn’t asked to talk to her after spending time with Chloe, nor had she given any indication of when she might be in touch again. ‘Do you want to tell me what you talked abou
t with her?’ Charlotte asked, as she and Chloe entered the house.
‘No, I want to go and work on my fairy dress,’ Chloe replied.
‘You can after we’ve had a chat, and after you’ve done an hour of maths.’
Chloe scowled. ‘I’m hungry,’ she declared.
‘I’ll make you a sandwich in a minute, but first, I want to talk to you about the kind of things you’re looking up on the Internet.’
Seeming not to hear as she searched amongst Cooper and Elodie’s toys, Chloe said, ‘It was here just now.’
‘What was?’
‘My iPad. Ah, here it is,’ and bringing it to the table she sat down to start opening up her apps.
Taking it from her, Charlotte said, ‘Why were you reading about how to kill your family?’
‘Give it back to me.’
‘Not until you answer the question. Why were you …’
‘I wasn’t.’
‘I saw it, Chloe …’
‘Yeah, but I wasn’t reading it. I mean, I was but not because I want to kill anyone, I just saw it and thought I’d click on.’
Knowing it was a lie, Charlotte stared at her hard.
Chloe grinned. ‘Did you really think I wanted to kill you?’ she teased.
Charlotte said, ‘I don’t know what to think. Sometimes, Chloe, I find you very hard to read.’
‘That’s because you’re not my real mummy. If you were, I expect you’d know everything I’m thinking.’
Feeling a tightening in her head, Charlotte said, ‘I doubt it. No one ever knows for certain what another person is thinking.’ She found herself wondering what might be in Anthony’s mind now. How was he feeling about the way he’d driven off earlier?
‘Do you know what?’ Chloe said. ‘On that website some people were saying that you should shoot your family, and others said you should stab them and hide their bodies.’
‘It’s not a joke, Chloe,’ Charlotte cried angrily. ‘You shouldn’t have been reading it. You must have known it was wrong even before you clicked on. Did you?’
‘Of course.’
‘So why did you do it?’
‘Because I was angry, and it wasn’t my fault I was angry. It was all of you, getting at me again.’