by Anni Taylor
“Don’t leave me here alone,” said Sass quickly. Her eyes shifted to me. “And don’t go up there with Bernice.”
“Yeah, fine. Keep hating me,” Bernice told her. “Who knows, maybe your hate is the glue keeping me together. Because fuck knows what else is keeping me going.”
With a shake of her head, she headed back up the stairs.
Sass and I met each other’s stare, neither of us volunteering our thoughts.
A series of knocks and dull bumps echoed down the stairs. Bernice returned with the camera, her eyes quietly triumphant.
I held my hand out for it.
“Fuck you,” Bernice muttered, fiddling with the buttons and refusing to give it to me. A light sprang on at the top of the camera. And then the viewing screen.
Bernice sat on the bottom stair, watching it herself, forcing Sass and I to move around to either side of her, Sass crawling sideways on the floor.
I felt my stomach lurch at the scene it showed. This house. On the day Grace Clark died. The position of the camera was fixed, people moving around in front of it.
God, there was Luke, taking me by the hand up the stairs. I watched myself looking back over my shoulder, half-dazed, continuing on to the top of the stairs with Luke. Bernice, Kate, Sass, and Pria were sprawled on the lounges. But it wasn’t a clear view. Just their legs. All wearing dark-coloured jeans. Someone got up. A person in black jeans and a hooded jacket. That person walked along the hall and disappeared into the dark space next to the stairs.
I could feel every beat of my heart as the person opened the door that led to the storage underneath the stairs.
The metallic sound of an alarm clock pealed out in the film.
Shuffling and shouts from upstairs.
Grace appearing on the stairs. Terrified and white-faced as she ran to the middle of the staircase.
And the stairs collapsing inwards, dust and splinters exploding in the air.
The door to the stairs had already been closed, the person running from the direction of the outside courtyard at the time that the others were running from the living room to the stairs. No one was looking up the hallway. All focus on the destroyed staircase.
Then I saw the face that emerged from the dark hallway.
Pria.
Unmistakably Pria.
Bernice set the camera down on the stair, her face chalky in the dark light.
In the long silence that followed, Sass and I looked to each other first, Sass’s expression a mirror of the shock and guilt flooding through me.
“Bernice . . .” Sass began.
“Don’t,” Bernice snapped.
Tears brightened Sass’s eyes. “It wasn’t you. I’m so sorry.”
My gaze fell to the rush of bodies on the camera viewfinder. All of us running in different directions not knowing what to do. All this time, it had been Pria that caused all that. My lips quivered. “There’s nothing I can say to make this better. We were so damned . . . wrong.”
“You can start by shutting the hell up,” said Bernice. “Do you think I want the soppy apologies of you two now? You can both go to hell. But I care about Tommy. So stop blubbering and start figuring things out.”
My mind began spinning away. If Pria had been the one to set the trap on the stairs, what else was she capable of? What else?
Sass’s head dropped low, her blonde hair touching the floor. “Phoebe, some stuff about Pria is making terrible sense now. The night we went out to the Christmas dinner, it was my idea, but it was Pria who decided where we should go. She told me she’d read that a guy you’d met and liked at a club last year was going to be there. I thought it would be a bit of fun for you. I didn’t know who it was. I’m guessing now it was one of those men you were filmed with at the hotel. That Dash guy. Before . . . before we went out, she said we should call up The Moose. She said she’d be you for a night, to try to take some of the pressure off you. And that you should be me for the night. She’s a psychologist, Phoebe. I thought, of anyone, she’d know the best thing to do.”
I closed my eyes, knowing with all certainty who’d called the media when I was with Dash. I could see all of us, when we were kids, playing Moose at number 29. Pretending to be each other. It was a dangerous game to play with Pria, only none of us knew.
“And something else,” said Sass, raising her eyes to me. “When I was at Pria’s once, about five months back, Jessie told me that Pria was keeping their dog upstairs in the playroom, and that she’d never seen it. I thought that was strange. But Pria told Jessie to go and do her homework, and then Pria was kind of dismissive about the dog thing. As if Jessie was making it up.”
“Phoebe,” came Bernice’s cautious voice, “I swear to you that where I told you I found that nightlight piece is the truth. You can choose to do what you damned well please with that piece of information. But I think you need to find out a bit more about your good friend Kitty.”
45.
LUKE
TWO NIGHTS AGO
Monday night
KITTY SLID A LAZY LEG OVER my stomach and drew close against me in her bed. “Hate seeing you so stressed.”
Staring up at the intricate vintage rose on her ceiling, I stroked her bare waist and thigh. Outside the high window, fog pressed in.
She ran a finger along my temple, tucking a lock of hair behind my ear. “Maybe you were right before. About getting away. Why don’t we? Just sail away.”
I glanced at her in surprise. She was too close for me to see her face clearly. “Really?”
“Yes.”
I sighed, drumming on her hip with my fingertips now. “Wish I could.”
“Sometimes, the best choice is to run away. You’ve been fighting to stay afloat for too long.”
“Until the police have got her under arrest and this is all over, I can’t leave. They should have arrested her as soon as they got their hands on the last note. Not stuck her in a clinic.”
“I guess they have their procedures to follow. They need to be sure.”
“What fucking else do they need? That’s Tommy’s blood on that letter. My son’s—” Pain welled inside me, making my chest hurt.
“Luke . . .” She hugged me in silence for a moment.
“I need to know what happened to Tommy,” I told her in a hoarse voice that didn’t sound like my own. “What she did and who helped her. When they bring her in for questioning and rip the truth out of her, at least I’ll know. And I can finally start to grieve.”
“I know. Of course you want that.”
Leaning over, I went to pick up my mobile phone from the bedside table, but it wasn’t there. “Have you seen my phone? I need to check if there’s any updates. On the news or from Gilroy.”
She put her hand over mine. “I haven’t seen it. But you know that he’ll call you if anything comes up. I’m worried about you. You’re showing all the classic signs of someone who’s about to go under. Seriously, I didn’t want to say this, but I’m worried about your state of mind.”
I moved away from her a fraction, scanning her face. “I’m keeping it together.”
“No, you’re not. And you mutter in your sleep all night long. About . . . well, about murdering your wife. You’re actually scaring me.” She untangled herself from me.
I grasped her arm. “I know I talk in my sleep, but—”
A vague look of fear visited her eyes. “Last night, you were tossing to and fro, so restless. I caught pieces of what you said. You wanted to cut her into tiny pieces like what she’d done to Tommy’s toys. The next thing I knew . . . you were on top of me, your hands around my neck . . .”
“I did that?”
“Yes.”
“Fuck.”
“I told you I wasn’t Phoebe and managed to roll you off me. You didn’t do it again, but you kept making angry noises under your breath. I admit, I was a bit scared.”
I sat up, drawing in a deep breath. “That can’t happen again. I won’t come here for a while. Until I�
�m past this.”
She shook her head. “I’m worried that would make you worse right now. You’d be taking yourself away from the one person you turn to for support. At the worst point in your life. You’ve told me that your parents aren’t capable of giving you the shoulder you need. Look, I know what I’m talking about with this.”
I’d already come to the point of putting my hands on Phoebe’s throat and wanting the release of strangling her. Last night, I could have killed the woman beside me in the bed. Kitty was right that I needed her—more right than she knew. I could admit to myself that I’d always needed a cheer squad behind me. The cheer squad used to be my mother. In my teen years, it was the Southern Sails Street gang—it felt like I had a team of beautiful girls under my wings (even when they rejected me). And then it was Phoebe, even though she never quite knew how to wave the pom-poms.
I turned to Kitty. “So, what the hell do I do?”
“Trust your instincts. You wanted to get away, and I think you should listen to yourself. You’re a smart man, Luke. Look at the business you built up from nothing. You know what you need to do.”
“I just . . . can’t go right now.”
“Why not now? Everyone would understand. Your wife has been accused of murdering your own son. You need some time to get your head around that. Phoebe’s psychiatrist will probably be able to buy her quite a bit of time before the police bring her in. In the meantime, you’re here waiting and suffering. I tell you what. Why don’t we go away just until she gets arrested?”
“I’m not prepared to put you in harm’s way to help myself.”
“You need a change of environment, and you’ll be fine. That’s all. This street has too many reminders.”
I stared at her, thinking.
“I’ll get packed. You’ve got lots of your clothes here. Enough to take away. You don’t need to do a thing.” Her smile was warm as she left the bed and stood naked in the soft glow of her bedside lamp.
“Where would we go?”
“Why not the property I just bought?”
“Seriously?”
Kitty had bought a damned island, a tiny piece of Australia far off the windswept coast of Victoria. I’d negotiated the deal, but I’d tried hard to talk her out of it. She’d paid way more than I thought she could sell it for in the future. But she’d seemed set on it.
“Yes, seriously. What could be better?”
“That’s a long sailing trip.”
“It’s not that long. What, two or three days?”
“About that.”
“Just long enough to get your head in a different place. You love sailing. And I do, too.”
This was moving too fast.
“What about Jessie? And school?”
“She can have a week off. She’ll be so excited.”
“Kitty, Jessie doesn’t even know about us. This might not be the best way of telling her.”
“She has to find out some time or other. It’s been damned hard keeping you a secret.”
“It’s going to come as a shock to her.”
“Yes, but I know her. She’ll adapt. And she gets a trip away in your yacht. It’ll be an adventure for her.”
I laid myself back on the bed. “I think I’d better start calling you Pria. Might be an extra point of confusion for Jessie if I call you Kitty in front of her.”
“I like Kitty. You gave me that name. It’s special to me.”
“Suits you.” I smiled up at her. “But it’s going to sound weird to Jess. Trust me.” I was going to have to make myself think of Pria only as Pria from now on.
“I trust you. You’re the one steering this ship.” Grabbing some clothes, she headed into the ensuite bathroom to get dressed.
Maybe she was right about what she’d said earlier about my wife. Phoebe wasn’t in jail—yet—but she was locked away. There was nothing for me to do until she was arrested or until she admitted everything under police questioning—whichever came first.
Pushing into my chaotic thoughts about Phoebe were thoughts about the preparation of the yacht for the trip ahead.
46.
JESSIE
TWO NIGHTS AGO
Monday night
I HEARD THE JANGLE OF KEYS in the lock of my bedroom door.
Mum always kept it locked at night—ever since we had thieves in the house in January. She didn’t want anything bad to happen to me.
Light spilled in as she cracked the door open. I sat up in my bed. “Mum?”
“Jess, I have the best news. We’re going on a little trip.”
“Where to?”
“Somewhere you’ve never been before. You’ll love it. We need to get you packed up and ready to go.”
“We’re going now?”
“Yes, right now. Jump up and help me pack your suitcase.”
“What about school tomorrow?”
She dragged the suitcase out of my wardrobe and lumped it on my bed. “You get a few days off school. Lucky, huh?”
“But . . . the play?”
“Oh, don’t worry about that. You don’t care about it, do you? You ended up with a rotten part anyway.”
“But they’re expecting me to be Beth. I’ve learned all the lines.”
“Don’t worry, sweetie. Just imagine the look on Bossy Boots Bree when she finds out you won’t be there. She won’t get to act like she owns the whole play, right in front of your face.”
“She’s not like that,” I mumbled. Mum didn’t hear me, and it was better that she didn’t. She really dug her heels in over some things.
The floorboards were cold under my feet as I went to my tallboy to start collecting clothes. “How long are we going for? I don’t know how much stuff to get out.”
“I’m not sure. I mean, who knows?” Her voice rose, thin and kind of nervously happy. “Just bring enough for a couple of weeks. And bring lots of warm clothing.”
“A couple of weeks? Wow.”
Her eyes danced as she folded my raincoat into the suitcase. “Yes, wow. I knew you’d be excited. This is going to be incredible. For all of us.”
My arms, full with a pile of jeans and T-shirts, hung in the air. “All of us? Who’s all of us?”
She drew in a long breath that I could hear. “You know that I’ve been seeing someone.”
“Yes?”
“We’re going away with him.”
“The man from the navy?”
She took the pile of clothing from me and pressed it into the bag. “Well, that was a little fib. This is kind of difficult. And you’re going to find it hard to understand.”
“What am I going to find hard to understand?”
“Maybe it’s best you see for yourself. He’s here right now.”
“He’s here?”
As far as I knew, he’d barely been to our house. He was away all the time at sea. No, that was wrong. Mum just said that was a lie. Why did she lie to me about him?
She packed my underwear and socks and zipped up the bag.
“Bring books,” she said.
“And my iPad?”
“No, honey. There’s no internet where we’re going. Okay, let’s go.”
“I need to get dressed.”
“No, stay in your pyjamas. You’ll be going back to bed anyway. Just put shoes and your winter dressing gown on.”
Her sleeve slipped up as she bent to pick up a pair of my shoes. She had a bandage wrapped around her wrist.
“What happened?” I touched her arm.
“Oh, I just bumped it. Racing around like crazy trying to get this trip sorted.”
She didn’t insist on me making my bed as we left my room, like she normally would. I rolled my suitcase behind me, following Mum down the hallway.
Standing in our living room was a man, his back to us as he looked at our photos on the mantelpiece.
“Jessie,” Mum said in a careful tone. “I know you know Luke.”
As he turned, I was confused. This was Tommy’s father, not M
um’s boyfriend. But there was no other man in the room.
“Hi, Jessie.” He gave me half a smile and half a shrug.
“Hi, Mr Basko.” I sounded weird, like I was greeting a stranger.
Mum nodded at me. “I know this is going to take a little while to get used to. You know that Luke and Phoebe are no longer together. Well, now Luke and I are together.”
“Like boyfriend and girlfriend?” I managed to squeak.
“I guess so.” Tommy’s dad shoved his hands in his pockets and switched to looking at Mum. “We like each other a lot. I’ve been feeling very, very sad for a long time. Your mum has helped me feel a lot better. She’s been a good friend, and I really needed a good friend. I hope you and I can be friends, too.”
My mouth felt too dry and my head still fuzzy. I’d been asleep just a few minutes ago. “Will Phoebe be going to jail?” I hadn’t meant to say that. It just slipped.
“I’m not sure,” said Mr Basko. “But when people do something wrong, then yes, they go to prison.”
Mum shot Mr Basko an anxious look. “We’d better get moving, before it gets any later.”
I noticed then that there were three suitcases and two boxes of food next to the sofa. They were already ready to go. All this had been happening while I was sleeping.
“I don’t like the look of the fog out there.” Mr Basko seemed worried.
“Once we get through it, we’ll be fine.” Stepping over to the suitcases, Mum grabbed two of the handles. “I used to go out sailing all the time with my parents.”
“Wait,” I said. “What about the puppy?”
Even though we’d had it so long it wasn’t really still a puppy, that’s what I called it. I still hadn’t even seen it, so my mind couldn’t make the leap to picturing a fully-grown dog.
“You have a dog?” Tommy’s dad frowned at Mum.
She sighed. “We don’t now.” She tilted her head at me, like she was trying to get a different view. “Oh honey, I didn’t want to tell you, but I had to give the dog away. A couple of days ago.”
I bit into my bottom lip. “It’s gone?”