‘Hi, sis,’ Toby said, through another mouthful.
Flick smiled at her daughter. ‘Hey, sweetheart.’
‘Ooh, ice-cream sundaes.’ Zoe’s face lit up as she surveyed the table. ‘Are we celebrating something?’
Toby blushed as Flick said proudly, ‘Your brother aced his physics test.’
‘Onya, little brother.’ Zoe held up her hand and Toby highfived it, making Flick feel all warm inside. Since Zoe moved out there’d been less bickering between the two of them, but also fewer moments like this when they showed their sibling love.
‘Can I get you some ice-cream?’ she asked her daughter.
Zoe hesitated a moment and Flick knew she was thinking of her wedding dress, not that she needed to worry about such things as putting on weight at her age. ‘Yes, please.’
Flick made another sundae, put it down in front of Zoe and then asked, ‘So, why do you need to use my computer?’
‘For an assignment. My laptop died and Beau’s using his.’
Flick nodded.
‘So what’s new? Anything exciting happening here?’ Zoe asked, looking from Flick to Toby between mouthfuls.
‘Well …’
Where do I start? One of my best friends had an affair with a married man. The other one can’t seem to forgive her for it. Oh, and did I ever mention your dad is a cross-dresser?
‘… Nope, nothing much,’ Flick said.
‘Lucky you’ve got my wedding to bring some excitement to your life then,’ Zoe said, her spoon scraping against her bowl.
At the mention of the wedding, Toby shoved back his seat, stood and picked up his bowl. ‘Thanks for the ice-cream, Mum,’ he said, dumping the bowl in the sink. He couldn’t leave the room fast enough.
‘What’s up his nose?’ Zoe asked.
Flick shrugged; her daughter would never understand that not everyone was as enthusiastic about wedding planning as she was.
‘Oh well, I can’t stop and natter anyway. Things to do, people to see.’ Zoe stood, then leaned down and kissed Flick on the cheek. ‘Thanks for the laptop, Mum,’ she said, before leaving the kitchen, presumably to do whatever needed to be done on the computer.
Flick sighed. Left with the dishes and the prospect of making dinner, her gaze travelled once again to the pile of letters, in particular that mysterious white one sitting on top. Before she knew what she was doing, the envelope was in her hand and she was sliding it open with her finger. Her heart raced as she drew out the piece of paper from inside. No good ever came from snooping.
Then again, husbands and wives weren’t supposed to have secrets, so Seb’s mail was her mail, right?
As she registered the letterhead and business details on the top of the page, she gasped, unable to hide her shock. Her knees buckled and she reached out to steady herself on the kitchen bench.
‘Mum? What is it? You okay?’
Flick looked up to see Zoe had re-entered the kitchen, laptop tucked under her arm. Her chest tightening as if she might go into cardiac arrest at any second, it took Flick a moment to gather the wherewithal to speak. She summoned everything she’d ever learnt in school drama classes and commanded her lips into a smile.
‘Course I am,’ she said, hearing the strain in her own voice. She folded the paper back up, shoved it into the pocket of her ancient work shirt and then stuffed the envelope in too.
Zoe looked at her funnily a moment, then shook her head and crossed to the fridge where she pulled out a can of soft drink. She cracked it open, took a sip and then left again without question. Flick let out a long, slow puff of air. Her heart and hands still quaking, she needed something a lot stronger than Diet Coke.
Chapter Fourteen
Genevieve
Neve frowned at the sound of knocking on her front door. It was half past nine on Monday night—too late for salesmen or religious callers (she hoped)—and she wasn’t expecting anyone.
‘You want me to get that?’ Will called from his bedroom next door.
She surveyed her open suitcase on the floor and the mess on her bed and sighed. ‘No,’ she called back. ‘I’ll go.’ Responsible mothers didn’t let their children open the door to strangers late at night. Even though Will now towered over her at well over six foot, he was still a child in the eyes of the law.
As she hurried down the hallway, the knocking grew louder, more persistent. She switched on the light that flooded the porch outside and recognised the familiar silhouette on the other side of the frosted glass.
‘What are you doing here?’ she asked as she yanked open the door to find Flick standing there looking dishevelled—her shirt done up unevenly and her hair tizzy as if she hadn’t brushed it at all today. ‘Are you okay?’
‘I’m fine.’
She didn’t look it, though, thought Neve as Flick stepped past to get inside.
‘And a very good evening to you. Why aren’t you answering your phone?’
‘It’s charging in the kitchen and I’ve been in my bedroom trying to sort things out for New York.’
‘I see.’ Flick glanced down the hallway and peered around the lounge-room door as if casing the joint, then asked in a whisper, ‘Is Will here?’
‘Of course. Where else would he be? It’s a school night. He’s in his room.’
Flick nodded but didn’t say anything else.
‘Are you sure you’re okay?’ Neve asked. The Flick in front of her looked like her friend but her behaviour suggested otherwise.
‘Huh?’ Flick met her gaze as if she’d only just seen her. ‘You got any wine?’
Flick usually didn’t drink during the week—this night was getting weirder and weirder. ‘Sure. I’ll grab a couple of glasses and we can go into my bedroom and talk.’
‘Talk?’
‘I assume you came here because you had something to say?’
When Flick just stared at her blankly, Neve shrugged. ‘Whatever. It’s good to see you. Come and help me work out what to pack for New York.’
Half an hour later, Flick had knocked back two glasses of wine but still hadn’t mentioned the reason for her visit. Neve gave up trying to pry after being shut down a couple more times. If there was something wrong, Flick would talk when she was ready. Neve had now succeeded in packing the things she didn’t need to think about—socks, panties and bras—but was still no closer to deciding the important things.
Like, ‘What do you wear to tell a man you haven’t seen for eighteen years that he has a seventeen-year-old son?’
Flick leaned back against the pillows on Neve’s bed where she was now half buried under a pile of discarded outfits. ‘Eff knows. I think I was in PJs both times I told Sebastian we were pregnant.’
Neve arched an eyebrow; she could count on one hand the number of times Flick had called her husband by his full name. ‘I hardly think I can turn up to the theatre in my nightie.’
Flick, staring off out the window again, said, ‘I can’t see why not. Plenty of people go shopping in their pyjamas these days. Besides, what you wear to bed is probably nicer than most people’s day wear.’
‘True.’ Neve did pride herself on her appearance, even if she didn’t have the fortune to spend on clothes that most of the mothers at Dayton did. But no, when she saw James again she wanted to look fabulous because inside she’d be a quivering mess.
‘Why don’t we just shop when we get there,’ Flick suggested, and Neve thought she must have heard wrong.
‘We?’ she asked, her hands halting in the action of removing a slinky silver cocktail dress from its hanger.
‘Oh, that’s what I came round to tell you.’ Flick grinned—the first time she’d truly smiled all night. ‘I’m coming to New York with you. That’s if you don’t mind the company.’
Neve gasped and tossed the dress on the bed. ‘Are you serious?’
Flick’s smile spread wider. ‘I wouldn’t joke about something like this. I’ve been fantasising about going since you first told us about James and th
en this afternoon, I suddenly thought, why the hell shouldn’t I go with you?’
Neve thought Flick would have a number of reasons—leaving Seb and Toby for one, Zoe’s upcoming wedding already costing them a small fortune for two—but she wasn’t about to mention either of these. She felt giddy at the thought of a trip across the other side of the world with one of her best friends. They’d have so much fun—shopping, dining and exploring the city that never slept—and if her meeting with James was as awful as she imagined it could be, well then at least she’d have Flick to help her drown her sorrows.
‘Why the hell not indeed?’ She squealed like an excited little girl and rushed forward to grab her friend in a hug, forgetting her weirdness of a few minutes ago.
‘And,’ Flick said, when Neve finally stopped squeezing, ‘I think we should take Emma as well.’
Neve could just imagine the mischief the three of them could get up to together in New York, but a little voice reminded her that Emma was barely speaking to her. ‘While that would be great,’ she agreed, ‘I don’t like your chances of convincing her. Even if the trip wasn’t to hunt down my married ex-lover, there’s no way Emma would flit across the world on a whim. This is a person who takes a year to decide whether to buy a new pair of shoes or not.’
Flick held up her empty wine glass as if to toast. ‘That, my friend, is why we’re not going to tell her.’
Chapter Fifteen
Emma
‘Want to buy some of my netball chocolates?’
Emma looked sideways at the box of fundraising chocolates Mandy was holding and her mouth watered so badly she almost drooled. Since she’d cut back on wine due to her headaches, chocolate was one of her few pleasures, and she’d shared her last packet of Tim Tams with the others yesterday. Unfortunately, the kids had emptied her purse again that morning and she’d grabbed a packet of crackers that was near its use-by date from the pantry for herself.
Not wanting her colleagues to know how dire her financial situation was, she shook her head and smiled apologetically. ‘Maybe tomorrow?’ Which was—thankfully—payday.
‘You’re not on one of those new diets, are you?’ Jenny butted in from across the office, her voice tinged with disapproval. ‘My daughters-in-law are both eating nothing but protein at the moment and it’s turned them into monsters.’
Emma glanced over at Patrick’s desk, relieved to see he appeared to be engrossed in something on his computer screen, then looked back to Jenny. ‘No, I’m just not in the mood for chocolate today.’
Jenny and Mandy raised their eyebrows and looked at each other as if they couldn’t believe their ears. Emma wasn’t known as the office chocaholic for nothing. She covertly slid her hands down to her stomach, which was squishier than she remembered. Or liked. Max’s comment from a couple of weekends ago came back to haunt her.
Have you stopped going to the gym? You look …
She could only imagine what he might have said if Seb hadn’t cut him off. The truth was she had let herself go over the last couple of years. Somewhere along the line she’d gone from being barely able to eat anything due to the shock, disappointment and embarrassment of her broken marriage, to consoling herself with chocolate, ice-cream and whatever other sweet things she could get her hands on. And that had remained a habit long after the wounds Max had left started to heal.
‘Earth to Emma, earth to Emma!’
She blinked at the sound of Mandy’s voice. ‘What?’ she snapped, wishing to God someone would come into the agency to distract them.
Undeterred by her grumpiness, Mandy flashed her a full-toothed, perfectly white grin that might have worked if Emma was a twenty-something male. ‘You could buy some for your kids as an afterschool snack? It’s for a good cause.’
‘Your netball club is a good cause?’ Emma asked, her voice rising with her body temperature. Why couldn’t Mandy just leave it? ‘Excuse me if I’d rather give my money to starving children in third-world countries, research for terminal illness or animals that are near extinction!’
Mandy’s smile transformed into an O and she snatched the chocolates up to her chest, holding them as if they were a puppy Emma had just kicked. The office went silent and Emma could feel Jenny’s and even Patrick’s eyes trained on her now as well. They probably thought she was going through early menopause. Hell, maybe she was—that could account for her headaches and irritable mood swings, for her snapping at poor Mandy over something so trivial.
She took a deep breath, praying for a natural disaster or something that would take the limelight off her. Unfortunately no earthquakes shook the floor but the telephone did start to ring and she’d never been so pleased to hear the sound. Hoping her colleagues would forget about her uncharacteristic outburst, she dived for her headset and snatched it up before any of the others could.
‘Good morning, Donoghue’s Boutique Travel, Subiaco, Emma speaking. How may I help you?’
‘Ooh, hello,’ said a high-pitched Irish-accented female voice. ‘Top of the morning to you. May I speak with Patrick Donoghue?’
There was something familiar about the voice but Emma couldn’t quite work out what. ‘May I ask who’s speaking?’
The caller took a moment to reply, then, ‘Um … I’d prefer to surprise him, thank you. You can tell him it’s an old friend.’
An old friend? Irritated, and then irritated by her irritation, Emma put the woman on hold, then looked over to Patrick who, she found, was still looking at her with his brow furrowed. She smiled at him. ‘I’ve got an old friend of yours on the line.’
His expression changed to one of confusion. ‘Who is he?’
‘She wouldn’t tell me her name. But she’s on line one.’
Patrick picked up his receiver. ‘Good morning, Patrick Donoghue.’
Emma forced her eyes away from him and looked over to Mandy. ‘I’m sorry about the chocolates,’ she said. ‘I’ll buy some later in the week, okay?’
‘Whatever.’ Sounding like one of Emma’s teenage children, Mandy shrugged and then looked over to Patrick, making no secret of the fact she was as curious as Emma about the mystery caller.
Emma opened her email, pretending to work while keeping one ear on his side of the conversation. Ever since their lunch together last week, she’d been entertaining late-night fantasies that maybe Patrick wanted more than friendship from her. She kept reminding herself that was impossible, but every time she recalled the way he’d caught her when she’d stumbled, her whole body heated with pleasure. Those feelings had been absent from her life for so long she’d almost forgotten the buzz they brought. Reliving their lunch together was better than any painkiller she could pop and also helped keep her mind off the Hawaii trip, which appeared to be the only thing Caleb, Laura and Louise were now capable of talking about.
‘No, no, it’s wonderful to hear from you,’ Patrick said, his grin stretching across his face as he leaned back into his chair. He made brief eye contact with Emma but then looked away again, giving all his attention to the woman on the other end of the line.
She felt a stab of jealousy and wished she’d told the caller Patrick was unavailable. Part of her didn’t want to hear his conversation, but the masochistic side of her couldn’t help eavesdropping. Whoever the old friend was on the other end of the line, Patrick was more than happy to hear from them. So happy in fact, he agreed to meet them for lunch. Emma felt like a first-grader, jealous because someone else was playing with her new best friend.
Berating herself for her foolishness, she set to answering some enquiries, throwing herself into work like she hadn’t done in days and barely noticing when Patrick finally hung up the phone.
Half an hour later, he stood up at his desk and announced, ‘I’ll be going out for lunch today.’
‘Have fun,’ Emma said, cursing her faux-chirpy tone and the way her hand lifted of its own accord, her fingers giving him some silly wave.
He smiled oddly at her and then slipped his arms into his bla
zer, which only enhanced his sexiness. She’d always preferred Max in his round-the-house casual clothes, but Patrick wore a suit better than any guy she’d ever known. A wave of heat came over her. Her first hot flush no doubt, giving weight to the theory she was menopausal and crazy.
The moment the agency door shut behind them, Mandy turned to Emma. ‘So who’s this old friend he’s gone out with? They sounded awfully chummy. The dark horse! I thought he was gay,’ she exclaimed, shaking her head in amusement. She’d obviously forgiven their altercation of earlier.
Emma summoned a laugh that sounded not unlike a cat being strangled, and once again wished for a natural disaster. Were they close enough to the ocean for tsunamis to be a threat?
Jenny was ensconced with a client and Mandy didn’t appear to notice her discomfort. ‘Hey, maybe one of us should follow him? I had this spy book when I was a kid and I used to love sneaking around the house, wearing Mum’s long black coat and shadowing my brothers. I was pretty good.’
‘Go ahead, be my guest.’ Emma gestured to the door, resisting the urge to jump up, grab her jacket and do exactly that. A vision popped into her head; herself alone in some flash restaurant, sipping tap water and holding the menu up to her face to disguise herself.
Mandy bit her lip as if seriously contemplating the idea. ‘Nah, I’d better not. What would I say if he saw me?’
Emma shrugged, forced a smile and eyed the box of fundraiser chocolates on Mandy’s desk.
Right now, she’d kill for a Caramello Koala. Would Mandy accept an IOU?
Chapter Sixteen
Felicity
Every Thursday night Flick made dinner for her family and Beau, who’d been a regular visitor since he and Zoe started dating at sixteen. Growing up in a silent house with no mother and a mentally absent father, there’d never been such traditions in her household and she’d been firm right from when the kids were little that they should sit down to dinner every night and talk. It was her favourite time of the day—she’d always loved hearing about the kids’ shenanigans at school and Seb’s latest design project at work.
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