‘Annalise! I haven’t slept with him. We just had one drink,’ said Poppy. ‘And yes, I think he’s nice . . . he seems nice. And good-looking, I guess.’
Annalise tried to press her for more information but she changed the subject. ‘You want to know the best thing about brunch?’ she said.
‘What’s that?’
‘You can have champagne with it if you want. Fancy a mimosa?’
‘God yes.’
Poppy ordered their drinks and by the time they’d finished their food, they’d had two each. A little later, they progressed to wine – ‘It’s pretty much lunchtime now anyway,’ Poppy said – and before they knew it they’d turned brunch into a boozy afternoon.
There was a lull in conversation and Annalise caught Poppy staring at her.
‘What?’ she said. ‘Do I have something in my teeth?’
‘Annalise, why did you lie to me?’
‘What do you mean?’ she asked, taken by surprise. ‘Lie about what?’
‘About your past. About everything,’ said Poppy. ‘I was on the hiring team when you got the job as warehouse manager. I knew you’d made some stuff up on your resume, but I didn’t care. I thought you deserved the job anyway. But the other day, when I asked you about your jumper . . . you’d lost track of your lies, hadn’t you?’
Annalise felt a jolt. Shit. She did her best to keep her face composed as she responded. ‘Excuse me? Lost track of my lies? What are you on about?’
‘You messed up. You forgot you’d put Sydney Uni on your resume. The other day I realised you’ve been wearing a Macquarie Uni jumper. I thought you’d just tell me it belonged to a friend or whatever, but instead you told me you went there.’
Annalise thought fast. ‘What makes you think I didn’t go to both unis but just left Macquarie off my resume?’ she countered.
‘The problem is, I went back and checked out some other stuff. You even lied about your high school. Who does that? What’s the point? You lied about everything. That truck that was dropping off a delivery the other day, the one I asked you about – their company name was on your resume.’
All right. Annalise knew she was caught out. She could stop with the indignation. But that didn’t mean Poppy needed to know everything, she could still keep this all under control.
‘Okay, fine,’ she said, ‘I lied. But it’s not some big conspiracy. I was just trying to catch a break, okay? And I’m doing fine as manager, so who cares?’
‘I care! It’s not about Cormack, it’s about me knowing nothing about your past. We’re supposed to be friends. So what’s your deal?’
‘My deal? Okay, first of all, I don’t have a “deal”. I’m just me. And for the record, it’s not like I’ve lied directly to you, I lied on my resume. I didn’t know you when I did that, and I never even knew you had anything to do with hiring me. But since then, you’ve never actually asked me any questions about my past, so I’ve never lied to you.’
‘Well, I’m asking now.’
‘Yeah well, you’re going to need to be a bit more specific than that. What exactly is it that you need to know?’
‘Where did you grow up?’
‘Queensland.’
‘So why name a Sydney high school on your resume?’
‘Because I didn’t go to high school.’
‘Why not?’
‘Home-schooled.’
‘Okay, so home-schooling is legitimate. Why not just put the truth on your resume?’
‘People don’t trust it.’
‘And did you go to university at all?’
‘No.’
‘What about family? We’re always talking about my family – my parents driving me crazy and my brother and my nephews, but we never talk about yours.’
Fuck. Poppy was firing questions at her like she was in a police interrogation.
‘Must make you feel like a great friend. The fact that you’ve never bothered to ask.’
‘Exactly! I feel terrible,’ said Poppy. ‘So talk to me about it. Do you have brothers or sisters? Are you close with your parents? Do they live up in Queensland still?’
Enough was enough. She’d thought she could handle this. She thought she could stick to simple answers and get through it. But she couldn’t and she didn’t want to and she shouldn’t bloody well have to. The bacon and egg roll was sitting heavy in her stomach and the mimosas sloshed around it.
‘You know what? I don’t want to do this. I don’t like the way you’re interrogating me. I was happy to come out to brunch with you because I wanted to move past our argument at soccer, but I don’t need this shit. I’m done.’
Annalise stood up from the table and swayed on the spot. She hadn’t even noticed that all the champagne and wine had made her lightheaded. She righted herself, snatched up her handbag and strode out of the cafe without bothering to offer to split the bill. Poppy didn’t call out after her.
CHAPTER 21
Tuesday nights were sort of ruined for Annalise. She’d lost her momentum. Too many interruptions and she just couldn’t get back into her usual routine.
On this Tuesday night though, no one was stopping her. Annalise started to change into her gear to go train alone as normal but then she stopped. There was a bottle of red on the benchtop and it was calling her name.
Fuck it, she thought. I can drink on a Tuesday night if I want to.
It didn’t help that she and Poppy were fighting. Annalise had skipped the Monday-morning meeting yesterday, sending one of her staff to take her place instead, and at soccer last night, she and Poppy had pretty much ignored one another. Elle had tried to ask her what was wrong at the end of the game; in fact, she was a lot gentler than usual – she didn’t even pull Annalise up on a fumbled pass that cost them a goal. But Annalise had faked a headache and taken off.
Yes, okay, she had lied, Poppy had a right to be annoyed, but that didn’t mean she had the right to interrogate her.
Annalise changed into pyjamas. She poured herself a drink and ordered pizza. When the knock on the door came, for a second she thought it was going to be Beth as she hadn’t buzzed the pizza guy in. But someone else must have let him in downstairs.
She paid him for the pizza, and before she shut the door she caught herself looking across at Beth’s door, wondering if it was going to open. Wondering if she was going to appear. If she was going to ask for her help again. Of course Annalise would tell her no . . . but she still stood waiting. Wondering.
Beth had slipped ninety dollars under her door the morning after she’d babysat. Annalise had picked it up and shoved it into her wallet. But she hadn’t spent it yet. It had stayed tucked away and hadn’t been touched again. She couldn’t say why. Or maybe she could say, but she didn’t want to be tempted. Because if she went there, there was no coming back.
Beth didn’t come out. And eventually Annalise took her pizza inside.
When she finished eating, she went looking for her notebook. She hadn’t written in it for a while, which was unlike her. She checked her bedside table, her kitchen bench, her handbag. She couldn’t find it and she started to panic. Where had she seen it last? She couldn’t think straight. She spotted the backpack she’d taken in to work the other day and searched through the contents. The notebook was stuffed between a folder and a clipboard with crumpled delivery slips. Thank God. She opened it up, turned to a blank page and began to write.
30 May,
Do you want to know something that worries me sometimes? You probably don’t. You probably want me to stop this. To leave you be. But I need to talk to you. I think you know why.
Here’s the thing that worries me – that I might have been doing something really basic in completely the wrong way for my entire life. And I think, what if someone notices one day? What if they spot me doing this really simple thing – like making pasta or filling a car up with petrol or offering someone a hug or a kiss on the cheek when I ought to be shaking hands – and they give me this look, like, what are yo
u doing? And slowly I realise, I’ve got it wrong. I’ve always had it wrong, but I never knew. And how could I not have known?
It’s because of the way I was brought up. I wasn’t taught any of those basic, ordinary, everyday things, was I?
No. Instead I was taught about worship. I was taught to worship him. And I was taught how to keep secrets. Filthy, disgusting secrets.
And I was taught to hate. I was taught to desire one thing only: escape. I knew I should take others with me. I knew that I shouldn’t go alone. But how was I supposed to make it happen? How was I supposed to do the right thing?
CHAPTER 22
It wasn’t the nicest place to do it. The floor was sticky and Annalise didn’t want to think about what had made it that way. The smell of faeces was barely covered up with citrus air freshener. It was 2 am, and this setting seemed like a fitting place for her to conclude her ruined Tuesday night.
She’d fallen asleep on the couch after drinking alone in her pyjamas and woken with a start to find her mouth dry and the television flickering silently in front of her. She didn’t know what made her think of it; it was as though she’d plucked the idea from her dreams. No, that wasn’t true. The thought had been edging its way to the surface for the last couple of weeks, it was only that she’d been ignoring it. Willing it away. But as the pepperoni pizza churned in her stomach, she knew it had reached the point where she could no longer pretend the signs weren’t there. She had to know for sure.
She’d thrown on clothes, a jacket and a beanie and walked swiftly down the road to the 24-hour chemist. Inside, the shock of the harsh lights made her pupils constrict and she squinted as her eyes slowly adjusted. She found the family-planning section, grabbed the first test she saw and took it up to the register. She waited for the middle-aged man behind the counter to judge her: A tired woman with couch-cushion creases on one side of her face and a fleck of pizza sauce in the corner of her mouth buying a pregnancy test at almost 2 am.
But he didn’t react, he scanned the box, accepted payment and passed back her purchase as though it was nothing more than a pack of chewing gum.
She was going to walk back home and take the test in her apartment, but halfway there she detoured into a service station and asked the young girl inside for the key to the bathrooms around the back. The key was attached to a large wooden board. ‘Make sure you bring it back,’ said the girl.
‘How could I forget?’
Now she paused in front of the scratched and worn sheet metal that hung on the wall as a substitute for a mirror. Her mottled reflection looked back at her. She remembered standing in front of her bathroom mirror that night after she’d slept with Lawrence, before kicking him out. She remembered how she’d tried to remind herself she was powerful, that she was in control. She didn’t feel powerful now. She didn’t feel in control. She hated that girl for her pathetic attempts at being tough.
This time as she looked at herself, she felt only guilt.
This was her mistake. She was responsible for her own body. She should have been more careful. And she knew what the answer was going to be. She’d known it well before she’d walked down to the chemist and made her purchase. Well before she stepped inside this dark and dingy bathroom. Well before she squatted above the stained toilet seat and peed on a small white stick.
Her period had been late before; she’d never really been especially regular. That’s why she didn’t realise right away. So what had tipped her off? She supposed it was the way she’d been acting. Getting confused about things. Losing her temper . . . more than usual. Hormonal. Being so weird about that whole thing with Harmony next door. Arguing with Poppy. Slipping up. Playing soccer so badly. And of course, those flashes of nausea that had hit her on and off over the past couple of weeks.
It was all enough to tell her there was something going on.
This test would just confirm it for her.
She finished counting out the three minutes. She picked up the stick. One line. She waited. She might have known the truth, but still she willed the second line to remain invisible. It ignored her pleas. It swam to the surface. Tears fell and she slammed her fist against the metal on the wall in front of her.
How could she have been so foolish?
Now she had a choice to make.
But really, there could only be one answer.
CHAPTER 23
1 June
Sometimes, I wonder about telling a complete stranger the whole truth. Instead of a person I actually know. And I don’t mean talking to a professional either. I mean an elderly man I meet on a park bench. Or the woman sitting next to me on the bus. Or the teenager who’s lining up behind me to order fish and chips.
I imagine how I might tell my story. In a whisper? Or a shout?
I imagine how they might react.
They’d be horrified, of course.
* * *
Annalise hadn’t told anyone her news yet. It was two days after she had taken the test and she was doing paperwork at her desk, checking off deliveries and sorting out invoices that needed to be sent upstairs to accounts. The secret weighed on her like sandbags dragging a body down to the ocean floor.
Things were still more than strained between her and Poppy, so she couldn’t confide in her friend. Although even if they had been getting on like a house on fire, this wasn’t a secret she’d want to take to Poppy, considering they’d bonded over a shared desire not to have children.
And she wasn’t ready to tell Lawrence either. Not yet. At least she knew he was the father. Not too long ago it would have been difficult to work out, but lately he was the only one she’d been sleeping with.
And she hadn’t done a thing about it. No trip to the doctor or family-planning clinic to talk through her options.
She was sort of ignoring it, to be honest. Although at least it was putting an end to her drinking problem. Yeah, okay, she’d known it was a problem, all along she’d known it. But at least she was giving it up now, when it mattered. At least she cared enough to do that one thing.
Would she tell Lawrence first? Did he have a right to know? But why? It was her body, wasn’t it? Why did she have to tell him about something that was going on with her body?
Because it’s a part of him.
Fuck that. Fuck him.
And then something happened that changed everything. Something that was going to give her the opportunity to reconcile with Poppy.
She found out Frankie’s secret.
Frankie was careless. Annalise went to her desk looking for a warehouse clearance form she was supposed to have had Paul sign and return to her. She couldn’t find Frankie or Paul but she needed that form. She was searching the desk when she knocked the mouse and her screen lit up.
When she glanced at it and saw Facebook open on the screen, at first she was smirking at the fact that Frankie was just as bad as everyone else, slacking off at work. But then she saw the name at the top of the page. She wasn’t logged in as Frankie Macchione, but as ‘Viv Fairweather’. Annalise knew that name. She knew it well. One of the original, earliest members of NOP. One of their favourites.
It took her a second. She blamed the little cells that were converging in her belly. They were making her slow. Why is she logged in to Viv’s account? The synapses in her brain sparked and she understood. Frankie was Viv. She was the mole. She was the one who had been bringing NOP down from the inside.
That’s when Frankie’s mobile phone started ringing on her desk. Who the hell leaves their phone sitting on their desk anyway?
She should have just let the thing go to voicemail, but she was so angry she wasn’t thinking, and she snatched the thing up and answered it. She took the message with the blood running through her body, pounding in her ears. She would pass the message on later, when she’d simmered down. But first she needed to go and talk to Poppy. This was going to fix things between them. This was going to put things right. They’d have a common enemy.
By the time she realised
she hadn’t passed on the message, it was too late.
Frankie’s kids had already gone missing.
PART FIVE
Frankie
CHAPTER 24
The first time Frankie truly understood the dynamic between Poppy, Annalise and herself, it hurt. It was earlier on in the year – late summer – and she overheard them talking about her behind her back at work one day. It would have been funny how discreet they thought they were being when they had their private little chats, if it wasn’t for the fact that what she’d overheard was so damn hurtful.
That morning during the usual water-cooler chatter, someone had mentioned in passing that Annalise was joining Poppy’s soccer team and that they still needed more players. At that stage, while they’d never been particularly friendly with her, Frankie still thought she might be able to bring them around. She thought they were just the kind of people who played it cool, who took a while to open up and show their nicer side. She’d played on a mixed indoor soccer team with a few friends a couple of years back and she thought it could be fun to do something for herself for a change.
She ran in to Poppy in the ladies and as they stood side by side at the sink, she casually said she’d heard that Poppy played on a women’s soccer team. Poppy had given her an irritated sideways look, as though she was bothering her just by speaking to her. ‘So, do you need another player?’ Frankie had asked. ‘Because I —’
She’d cut her off. ‘Nope. Team’s full up.’
Frankie was taken aback by just how abrupt she’d been. It’s not as though they were mates, but she didn’t think she’d ever done anything to offend her. Later Frankie headed down to the warehouse to check on a delivery for Paul. She’d been almost at the bottom of the staircase but she’d stopped when she’d caught her name. It was Poppy’s voice, she was down there chatting with Annalise.
Those Other Women Page 19