by C. J. Duggan
‘How many children do you have?’ I asked.
‘Oh, just Evie, she’s four, and in desperate need of a brother or sister.’ Melissa smiled, dropping a less than subtle hint as she glanced at her husband, who had chosen to have a deep and meaningful discussion with Ben. She rolled her eyes. ‘Men and their business talk. You would think they’d just want to leave it at the office.’
Melissa spoke to me as if I was a fellow frustrated wife, sharing the same shortcomings of our partners. And as much as I had dreaded the dinner party invite and how out of place I would feel, I recognised a similar loneliness in her. She was fair, with flame-red hair and a nervous disposition, and she looked at her husband with wide, watery eyes in a pathetic bid for approval. I could see she was eager for another baby – I had seen it before, in other women. She just wanted something to love. The tall, dark and sexy Grant Peterson seemed like he would always rather talk business, not babies.
It was so fascinating to people-watch, to make a judgement within the first few minutes of meeting someone. I wondered what people would make of me, standing next to Ben. What would people who weren’t in the know think, looking across the room at us? There’s no way they would see us as a couple: Ben was brooding, stiff and uncomfortable; in a room full of people, he spoke only to Grant, and was genuinely annoyed when people intervened to shake his hand and offer small talk. I couldn’t help but enjoy watching him squirm. I smirked when a highly botoxed New York socialite with little notion of personal space advanced on him. ‘Benjamin, darling, how are you?’ she all but purred.
I had been so wrong. This dinner party was nothing to cringe about, this was the best entertainment I’d had all week, and I planned to enjoy every minute of it, even if I only had juice in my decadent champagne flute.
Then a shadow in my peripheral vision closed in. I knew it was Ben, I had seen him untangle the socialite’s flailing arms from around his neck as he excused himself from the group. I lazily cast my gaze around the room, acting as if I wasn’t bothered by his approach.
‘Don’t worry, it’s non-alcoholic,’ I said, looking at him like I was bored.
‘Good to know, but that’s not what I was going to ask.’
‘Oh, what were you going to ask then?’ I said, watching him expectantly. I knew I was giving off attitude, being less than professional, but I was finding it difficult to care. Maybe if he was at least present for his daughter I would dislike him less. To me, there was nothing endearing about him, apart from those eyes that made my train of thought fuzzy, and those lips that I knew were soft and lush and – man, I needed a drink. I was parched.
Just as I was about to put my glass down on an empty tray and pick up another, a hand snared my wrist.
‘Oh, Sarah, there you are. Listen, come upstairs, will you, I hear dinner and drinks are waiting to be served.’
Earlier, when I had wanted so badly to see a familiar face, I certainly hadn’t meant it to be Penny Worthington’s.
‘Um …’ I looked pleadingly at Ben, but he seemed amused by the sudden intrusion. Bloody coward.
‘Come, there’s someone I want you to meet.’
‘Melissa has Grace so I—’
‘Well, she’s in good hands then.’
I threw Ben a parting frown; smirking, he saluted me with his champagne as Penny pulled me away through the crowd. Bastard.
Louisa Tourky was an English rose. Blonde hair, peaches-and-cream complexion, big round eyes and a knowing smile. The way she tucked her hair behind her ear and blinked – once, twice – made the simple act almost erotic. She made me feel like a bag lady.
‘Louisa, this is Sarah Williams. She’s Australian,’ announced Penny Worthington by way of introduction. It was as though she thought making sure people knew I was Australian would explain everything, especially my faults. ‘Perhaps Louisa can give you a few pointers, Sarah. Grant says that Louisa is the cream of the crop as an au pair.’ Penny turned to offer a barely there smile. It was a none-too-subtle dig at me. Oh, how I hated her.
As soon as Penny had descended the stairs, Louisa crossed the room, peering out to the landing and stepping back to shut the door behind her.
‘Ding-dong, the witch is gone,’ she sing-songed. ‘Want a smoke?’ She cracked a window, her long blonde hair swishing over her shoulder as she looked at me with a mischievous smile. I liked her instantly.
‘Ah, no, thanks, I don’t smoke.’
‘Well, working for the Worthingtons, that’s probably a good thing.’ Louisa clicked her lighter and inhaled until the cigarette was aglow.
I wondered what she knew about them. ‘How long have you worked for the Petersons?’
She blew her smoke out of the window. ‘Oh, I don’t know, eighteen months?’
Eighteen months. I could only assume that she must have liked her position, and then I thought of the prospect of being employed by the Worthingtons for that long and I just couldn’t see it. I couldn’t see any longevity in it because, try as I might, I never actually felt that this world was a part of my reality.
Even though Penny had pretty much dragged me here, I was enjoying the calm in the charming wood-panel-and-leather library with Louisa. It was quiet and cosy, away from the elite and their children. Louisa had extinguished her cigarette and was sauntering across the room with a sense of ownership; she’d obviously hung out in this room often, which surprised me as she didn’t strike me as the bookish type. She reached for the crystal decanter of whisky on the drink cart.
‘Want one?’ she asked, smirking at me as she tipped the rich liquid into the sparkling crystal tumbler.
‘Ah … no tha—’
‘Let me guess, you don’t drink whisky either, tut-tut-tut, such a saint you are, the Worthingtons struck gold with you,’ she teased, bringing the tumbler to her lips.
I felt like I was in high school all over again, like Louisa was double daring me to do something stupid, and as far as I was concerned, drinking on the job when you were supposed to be caring for children was right up there.
‘Ugh, here, hold this, I gotta go pee,’ she said. I thought how incredibly American she sounded, even with her posh English accent. Louisa shoved the drink into my hand and I had to rebalance so as not to spill a drop on the rug. I wondered, come time for me to go home, would my friends notice any change of accent? Would they notice any change in me at all? Probably not, I was always just Sarah. My moral compass was also painfully strong and true – I don’t think I could ever be in danger of being controversial. I always did the right thing: working hard and enjoying the simple pleasures in life, not that Tiffany’s was exactly simple.
An image of Ben’s lips surfaced, and I remembered how they felt on my body, and I suddenly didn’t feel so saintly after all.
I looked at the tumbler in my hand, and it had me thinking, remembering. How did I feel when I broke the rules? Did I feel any different? Guilt-ridden perhaps? Elated, empowered? Maybe I even walked around with an air of confidence just like Louisa did; I mean, sure, this was her domain and she probably felt at ease here. But even in my own environment, each day was about waiting, and worrying whether Ben would be back or if he was going to disappear … and what if I kissed him again? What would happen, what would he do? All the questions running through my mind were starting to wear me down. Oh, how I wished I were more like Louisa, a free spirit – maybe that was what worked, what got you noticed? Penny Worthington certainly seemed like a fan. And right then, as I stared down into the whisky, I thought, Fuck it! I lifted the glass to my mouth and knocked back the rich, fiery contents so quick it took my breath away.
It was right about the time I got my senses together, recoiling from the disgusting yet no doubt expensive whisky, that a movement in the corner of my vision brought my attention to the open doorway. Ben stood there, his hand resting on the handle as his eyes moved from my face down to the empty tumbler. He stepped into the room, shutting the door behind him with such a loud thud it made me jump. He folded his a
rms and pressed his back against the door.
‘Let me guess, that’s non-alcoholic too?’
I placed the empty tumbler on the drink cart. ‘What are you doing, lingering in the servants’ quarters?’
‘Servants’ quarters?’
‘Well, this is where your mother dragged me to meet Louisa.’
‘Ah, Louisa.’ He said her name like he was recalling an interesting memory.
‘She’s just ducked out.’
‘Well, that explains why I can’t find Grant.’
‘What?’
‘Oh, nothing,’ he said, but his mind seemed far away. ‘Listen, we won’t stay long, we should get Grace home and settled.’
My mouth opened, ready to argue the point, until I realised. He was being … thoughtful.
‘Have some dinner and then come downstairs.’ He smiled and I hated the way my insides twisted.
‘You sure about that?’
There was something in the way he gazed at me; his eyes were a cool blue, but they burned with intent. I hadn’t seen him all week, and yet, being near him brought back all my mixed-up emotions. I tried to hate him; in spite of everything I had learnt, I thought seeing him again would be easy. But then he looked at me in a way that made my thoughts blurry and my skin hot.
‘You won’t have to ask me twice to get out of here,’ he said, pushing away from the door and opening it just as Louisa was about to enter.
‘Oh, hi, Mr Worthington.’ Louisa smiled, and blinked once-twice in that alluring way of hers.
‘Louisa, how’s young Evie going?’
‘Tucked in bed like a little angel.’
He nodded. ‘As Grace will be … soon.’ He lifted his eyes to me, as if to accentuate the time frame.
‘Did you want me to come get her?’ I asked.
‘I don’t like your chances of prying her from Melissa’s grasp; let her have her moment. I think she’s using Grace’s smile to entice Grant into extending the family.’ Ben directed his words mainly to Louisa, whose smile weakened. ‘Ladies.’ He nodded, walking through the door.
Louisa closed the door. ‘Ugh, Susan, you are so lucky.’
‘Sarah.’
‘Oh, right, Sarah,’ she said distractedly as she walked across the room and threw herself into the oversized chair near the fireplace. ‘So lucky,’ she repeated, reaching for her drink, only to frown when she saw it was empty.
‘Um, how do you figure that?’ I half-laughed, wanting to divert her attention. I took a seat opposite her on a Chesterfield lounge. Today more than ever I had come to the conclusion that my job was somewhat of a disaster. The more I learnt about the Worthingtons’ secrets, the more I was convinced that I couldn’t stay.
‘Because you don’t have a neurotic, insecure wife wanting to bone Ben all the time.’
Was she talking about Melissa? ‘She wants a baby pretty bad, then?’
‘Seriously, she just needs to get a hobby or something, because the more she’s around, the more she makes my life miserable, I swear to God.’
I could feel myself bonding with Louisa. Even though she was doing all the talking, it was nice to hear from someone who also had battles with her employers. It made me feel like I wasn’t alone.
‘Yeah, well, I have Penny Worthington,’ I said, trying to offer some common ground.
‘Pfft, Penny’s a doddle. I would take her any day, she loves me,’ she said, shrugging.
Well, why didn’t she love me? I thought I was totally lovable.
There was a knock on the door.
‘Come in,’ called Louisa.
The door opened, revealing a man with a trolley and a smile.
‘Oh, thank god, I’m starving! Just put it over there, please.’ Louisa directed the man like she was lady of the house. I couldn’t get past the knowledge we really were in the servants’ quarters, being fed here while the beautiful people lingered below. While I hadn’t thought I’d be sitting at a long, white linen–clad dining table rubbing elbows with everyone, being tucked away out of sight seemed rather shitty.
‘Guess there’s not enough chairs for us au pairs at the dinner table then,’ I quipped, as the man unveiled meals that looked impossibly small and posh. I’d have to ask driver Dave if he knew of a nearby Macca’s on the trip home.
‘Well, blame Melissa for that. This would have been her idea, hey, Manuel?’
Manuel smiled and shrugged, obviously not wanting to get involved as he bowed and bid us goodnight, quickly exiting with the empty trolley.
‘She seems so nice,’ I said, mainly to myself.
Louisa scoffed. ‘She’s a bloody psycho.’
It was awkward hearing Louisa speak so candidly about the family she was working for. As much as I knew Ben was impossible most of the time, to openly bag him would be … wrong.
Louisa brought her plate to her chair, sitting down to tuck into her tiny meal. ‘So tell me all. What’s it like working for the Ice Man?’
I laughed. ‘Ice Man?’ I repeated, bringing my plate to the couch and grabbing a cushion to rest it on, just as Louisa had.
‘Oh, hell yeah, those eyes – cold as fucking ice.’
Now I understood. I had been on the receiving end of those stares and they did cause a shiver down your spine. It also managed to evoke a heated response in me, but I chose to block that out.
‘Which is ironic, seeing as he’s so bloody hot.’ She laughed.
Something inside me twisted, hearing her speak of Ben that way. She gave me a devilish little smile, licking sauce off her knife.
‘So … have you fucked him?’
I nearly choked on my food, coughing and spluttering as I grabbed for my water.
Louisa looked at me with interest. ‘You have.’
I shook my head vigorously, mainly because I was working on just trying to breathe. ‘No!’ I croaked.
‘Well, sucked him off, then?’
Oh my God! ‘No!’ I shouted.
‘Hmm, you sound pretty defensive,’ she mused, popping in another sliver of veal and chewing thoughtfully. ‘But I think I believe you.’ The admission didn’t alter the fact that my reaction had made me look prudish, or guilty, even though I hadn’t done that with Ben.
‘Such a shame. You haven’t got anything standing in your way.’
‘Being an au pair’s not a dating service,’ I said. I couldn’t believe the nerve of this woman; I didn’t even know her.
‘I’m not talking about marriage proposals, I’m just talking a little fun.’
I had thought that I’d found a kindred spirit, a new friend in New York. But the longer I spent with Louisa, the less I liked her. These people entrusted this woman with their daughter, and they had done so for almost two years? And then it occurred to me.
I put my plate aside, having lost my appetite after nearly needing the Heimlich manoeuvre. Although Louisa was turning my stomach, I wouldn’t let this opportunity slip away.
‘Louisa, can I ask a question?’
She shrugged. ‘I’m an open book.’ So typical that she assumed it was about her.
‘Did you know Ben’s wife?’
‘I knew her,’ she said, nodding.
‘It’s so incredibly sad.’
‘Yeah, I know, like way to tear a family apart, right?’
I don’t know if it was the blank look that gave me away, but it didn’t take Louisa long to catch on that I didn’t exactly get what she was saying.
‘You know, because of how it happened.’
I shrugged. ‘All I know is that Grace was a few weeks old, and that Caroline died in a car accident.’
Louisa shook her head. ‘Fucking Worthingtons.’
At any other moment I might have found her words comforting, a means to bond over a common character assessment of the Worthingtons, but all it made me do was shift with unease. ‘W-what else is there to know?’
Louisa scoffed. ‘You sure you don’t want a drink? You might need one after this.’
Ch
apter Twenty-Six
‘What?’
Louisa became solemn as she put her own plate aside. She wiped her hands on the serviette and sat forward, giving me her full attention.
‘Caroline wasn’t driving the day she died.’
I could feel my blood run cold; Ben’s tortured face appeared in my mind and my heart ached. ‘Oh my God, you don’t mean …’
Louisa nodded, leaning further forward. She lowered her voice. ‘Alistair Worthington was driving.’
‘Alistair?’
Louisa fell back in her chair, waving my words away. ‘Oh, you probably don’t know who that is, but let me tell you, it caused a major rift in the family.’
I went to speak, to clarify that I did know who Alistair was, that I had met him, but thought better of it.
‘Alistair is the estranged little brother of the family, the wild, rebellious black sheep, if you will,’ she said.
‘How awful. Surely it was an accident? I mean, he wasn’t at fault, right?’
‘Regardless of fault, Ben was meant to pick Caroline up that day, but instead she ran into Alistair and he offered to take her home. And the rest, as they say, is history. A very sad one. You know, Ben’s never been able to forgive Alistair and, well, Alistair hasn’t been able to forgive himself. So he hightailed it overseas, and no one in the Worthington family dares speak about it.’
I couldn’t believe what I was hearing – poor Alistair. His request that I not tell Ben he was here made sense now. I felt something spike inside me, a great empathy for the man who would have to live with such trauma for the rest of his life.
I shook my head. ‘Ben doesn’t seem to know how to bond with Grace, he really struggles, and I think before I came along he didn’t have much to do with her. Is that right?’
Louisa nodded. ‘He’s always working, day and night. And when Caroline died he just became even more obsessed with work and, I guess, avoiding reality. Like, he just doesn’t want to deal with the baby.’ Louisa shrugged. ‘Grant says he’s grieving and needs time.’