Those Other Women

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Those Other Women Page 22

by Nicola Moriarty


  There was a beat and then they both started laughing hysterically. They laughed for a good few minutes before they were able to regain their composure, and when the waitress put down their coffees, she gave them a quizzical, amused look.

  ‘I needed that,’ said Linda, stirring her coffee and smiling. ‘I really did. Sorry,’ she added, ‘I didn’t mean to be so mysterious with getting you here and everything, but I wanted to let you know straightaway. If there’s someone at Cormack who’s watching closely enough to start to think something’s going on – well, even though they’ve come to the wrong conclusion this time, they might come to the right conclusion next time.’

  The amusement cleared from both of their faces and Frankie nodded. ‘I guess you’re right. It’s not good, is it?’

  It was six months earlier that Linda had first called Frankie and asked to meet because she had something important to discuss. She’d cut straight to the point that day. ‘Paul’s been diagnosed with early onset Alzheimer’s,’ she’d said. The bottom line was that Paul and Linda didn’t want anyone to know just yet. Only a year before that he’d floated the company on the stock exchange. Soon after there’d been a falling out between Paul and two members of the board. Paul had been trying ever since to claw back a majority shareholding of the company. But when the symptoms had begun to worsen, he’d realised he only had a short time frame in which to get the company back under his control before it was discovered that he was no longer capable. All he wanted was to have enough control that he could ensure the company remained intact. And Linda had wanted Frankie’s help. ‘Paul trusts you,’ she’d said. ‘So you’re the only one in the company that he’s comfortable with knowing the truth, at least until he gets these legal issues sorted out. Once it’s all fixed, he’ll make an announcement and relinquish the director’s position to someone else. But in the meantime, we need you to look out for him. Shelter him from difficult decisions or tough meetings wherever you can. Run interference, calm him down when he’s confused, whatever you can do to help hide our secret.’

  At the same time, Linda would be working with lawyers, trying to find a loophole, a way to get back a majority shareholding. They’d been hopeful it wouldn’t take too long to sort out, and Linda was apologetic that she was asking so much of Frankie, expecting her to lie to everyone else in the company, as well as Dom.

  ‘The fewer people who know the better,’ Linda had explained, ‘and as Dom works for CT&T . . .’

  She had a point. Cormack sometimes did business with CT&T. If Dom accidently let something slip over a beer with workmates one Friday night, it could get back to the wrong people.

  Now, as they sipped their coffees, Frankie asked Linda if she was at all worried when she got the text. ‘Like, just for a second? Or did you put two and two together straightaway?’

  ‘No, I wasn’t worried. Wouldn’t matter if he was completely lucid, Paul could never cheat on me. He always joked that he didn’t understand how adulterers coped with more than one woman. Plus, I should have expected it. The amount of time you have to spend in his office, one on one, settling him down and reassuring him, it’s amazing no one’s come to this conclusion sooner.’

  ‘Yeah, that’s true. I was in there for hours today, actually. He came over all paranoid. He wanted me to look up all this random stuff about one of our competitors on his computer for him, and he wanted the door locked and the blinds drawn. It must have looked suspicious from the outside.’

  Linda hesitated. ‘So you think he’s getting worse, Frankie?’

  ‘Oh, um, I don’t know.’

  ‘It was the first thing you said when you got here. You thought that was why I needed to see you. Tell me honestly – are we running out of time to get this company stuff under control?’

  Frankie reached for Linda’s hand again. ‘Maybe,’ she said softly. ‘Hey, what if he takes some leave? Pretend the two of you are off on some tropical holiday for a few weeks and in reality, you just stay home, see if you can get it sorted once and for all. I mean, Jesus, how much bloody money have you already spent on those lawyers? Surely they must be ready to make a move – they’re bleeding you dry.’

  ‘It’s not a bad idea, to get him out of there,’ said Linda. ‘But my worry is that once he’s not there, not in his normal routine . . . I don’t know, I just think that maybe he’ll deteriorate faster than ever. Sometimes I think it’s the act of getting up at the same time each day, getting ready for work, eating the same breakfast, catching the same train . . . all of that is what steadies him. On the other hand, some days I’m terrified he’s going to step onto the wrong train and end up somewhere up the Blue Mountains or something like that, that he’ll get confused, forget who he is, where he lives and I’ll never see him again. I have this dream – this nightmare – where he’s wandering lost through the bush and he’s calling out my name and I can’t get to him, and it makes me feel sick. Sometimes I even follow him to the station, watch to see that he heads to the right platform, gets onto the right train. But he’d be so offended, so embarrassed if he ever knew.’

  ‘I wish there was more I could do,’ Frankie said. ‘I’ve got a day off coming up later this week for the kids’ sports carnival. Should I skip it?’

  ‘Don’t be silly, you’re already going above and beyond for us. And you have a young family. I hate that we’re putting all this extra stress and pressure on you. But anyway, that’s not the point today, we need to figure out what we’re going to do about this “good Samaritan” who thinks Paul and you are cheating. Do you have any idea who at the office would be likely to want to dob you in to me?’

  The answer came to Frankie immediately and she couldn’t believe it wasn’t the first name she’d thought of when Linda had showed her the message. Poppy. And goddamnit, she should have seen this coming. Poppy had posted in NOP just the other day asking for everyone’s advice on whether or not she should dob someone in who was cheating. But it had never occurred to Frankie that Poppy could have been referring to her and Paul. Even worse, Frankie had commented on that post! I’d want to know, had been her advice.

  But before she could answer Linda’s question, Linda’s hands suddenly flung up to her face. ‘Oh shit, Frankie,’ she gasped, ‘I just realised – what if this person texted Dom as well?’

  The skin on Frankie’s arms prickled and she rubbed them roughly. Linda was right. What if Poppy had? Dom had been acting so unusual today. So much nicer than normal. Was it because he was trying to play it cool? Did he think he could catch her out by making her relax?

  And even worse than that, the thing was – she really had lied to him. It might not have been as bad as having an affair, but still. She wasn’t being honest with her husband. Her deception suddenly felt all the more wrong.

  ‘I have to go,’ she said. ‘I have to get home and find out.’

  Linda nodded. ‘I’m so sorry, Frankie, if this ends up making your life even harder. I feel awful. Go. Call me when you can and let me know how it goes with Dom. I’ll figure this out.’

  * * *

  Frankie wasted yet more money on another Uber back home – she didn’t want to wait for the bus. She climbed out of the car and faced their neat, blue-and-white townhouse, then hesitated at the front gate. How should she handle this? Obviously, it would be weird if she asked him straight out whether or not he’d received a random message from an employee at Cormack today. She guessed she just had to act normal and see if Dom showed any signs that he’d been contacted.

  She let herself in the front door and Dom stuck his head around from the kitchen. ‘You’re home earlier than I expected.’

  ‘Yeah, it didn’t end up being such a big deal after all. One or two drinks and everyone was already calling it a night.’

  ‘Where did you go?’

  Frankie had the answer ready to go. ‘Top Deck bar, not far from work.’

  ‘Much to drink?’

  ‘Nah, just a cocktail.’

  ‘Cocktail? Those things ar
e such a rip-off. Why don’t you just drink beer?’

  Well, at least that was sounding more like the Dom of late, worrying about her spending too much instead of encouraging her to go out.

  ‘I didn’t feel like a beer,’ she replied.

  His phone dinged and he pulled it out of his pocket to look at it. Frankie’s body went rigid – was that Poppy texting him right now? But then he looked up at her and said, ‘Did you catch an Uber there and back again?’

  ‘Yep,’ Frankie said. They shared the same account, which was why he was seeing the notification of the bill on his phone.

  ‘Why didn’t you take the bus?’ he asked.

  ‘I’d only just missed one coming home and the cocktail was sitting a bit funny in my stomach so I didn’t feel like waiting around. Actually, I’m still feeling a bit off. I’m going to take a shower.’

  Frankie ran upstairs before he could say anything else, the guilt weighing heavily on her shoulders as she went.

  CHAPTER 27

  Frankie could feel the sweat trickling down the centre of her back and soaking into the waistband of her jeans. Why the hell did she wear jeans anyway? Because she didn’t like her legs in shorts. Still, she should have ignored her body-image issues in favour of comfort. Even though it was almost winter, the sun was glaring and her jeans felt hot and tight and stiff. Dumb choice.

  Sad. That’s what Donald Trump would say: Wore jeans under the hot sun at the sports carnival. I will investigate this dumb choice. Sad.

  She looked up just in time to realise that the kids in the next heat were taking their positions ready for the race and she wasn’t even looking at her stopwatch. She reset it and hit the start button just in time as the starter gun went off and the children came tearing towards her, little arms pumping, chests puffed out, chins up, red-faced.

  Shit. Which kid was she supposed to clock again? She picked out one in a yellow bib, hoping she had the right one, and prepared to stop the timer as he reached the finish line. She hadn’t expected her job to be this stressful! And the other parents all took it so seriously. It wasn’t the Olympics, but they bloody well acted like it could have been. Frankie wanted to give them all winning stickers. Okay, she got why that was wrong – you can’t give them a sense of entitlement. They have to know that the real world includes winners and losers. She just hated the look on their faces when they stared up at you, all hopeful, waiting to see if they’d earned a sticker or a ribbon or whatever, and you had to send them on their hot, sweaty, deflated way.

  Maybe it was because she never won any races as a kid.

  ‘Mum! Mummy! MUM!’ Frankie knew you were supposed to recognise your own child’s voice, but it took her a good few seconds to register that she was the ‘mum’ being hailed. She turned around to see Coby running over to her, a bit of a skip in his step. The fact that he’d let a ‘Mummy’ slip out told her how excited he was.

  ‘I won,’ he said, breathless as he came to a stop in front of her and held out the handwritten ticket he was meant to take over to the marshalling table and exchange for a blue ribbon. ‘Did you watch me? I told you to watch. It was just over there – my race? It was the long distance. Did you see me come in?’

  Frankie hesitated. She’d completely missed it. And wasn’t that supposed to be the whole point of taking the time off work – to actually experience the joy of watching her kids racing? But instead she’d been stuck in the one spot, with no shade. Most of the other mums had brought sun umbrellas – one or two even had beach tents for their toddlers to play in while they watched big sis long jump or high jump or whatever. But not Frankie – she was under the searing sun in her stupid hot jeans, watching child after child who were of no significance to her whatsoever.

  ‘Yes!’ she said to Coby, deciding to throw caution to the wind and pretend she’d seen him – he’d never know. ‘I almost missed it because I was timing a race over here, but I looked across just in time to see you win!’

  Coby stared at her. ‘You saw me come in first?’

  ‘Yes! Saw you out in front!’

  ‘No, you didn’t. Because Trent crossed the line before me. It’s just that he got disqualified ’cause he started before the gun. That’s how I won. If you were watching, you would have seen me come in second.’

  He gave her a well-perfected ‘I’m not mad, I’m just disappointed in you’ look and Frankie kicked herself for getting caught out. She was about to try to explain her way out of it but her phone started ringing and she jumped on the distraction.

  ‘Hello?’

  There was a pause. Then heavy breathing. Then quietly, so quietly it was hard to hear with the sounds of the carnival around her, a voice: ‘Frankie?’

  ‘Paul?’

  ‘Yeah. Frankie. Umm . . . I think I need . . .’ His voice started to drop in and out. She could only catch half-words. ‘Might be . . . don’t know . . . could maybe? . . . not lost . . .’

  Frankie pushed the phone hard against her ear, felt the sweat building up on the screen. ‘Paul, what is it? What’s up, I can’t hear you properly.’

  At the same time another mum’s face appeared in front of her. ‘Mrs Macchione?’ she said at full volume, as though the phone pressed against Frankie’s ear was non-existent, while also completely overdoing the Italian pronunciation. ‘The next race is about to start. You need to be ready to time on lane six.’

  Frankie glared at the woman and thrust the stopwatch at her before turning away without bothering to explain. ‘Paul, I’m sorry,’ said Frankie. ‘I missed it again. Tell me what’s up?’

  ‘I went out,’ he said. ‘Just for lunch. I’m not lost, I just don’t know where I am. Could you . . . maybe, could you help me? Linda’s not . . . I can’t . . . I don’t know . . . I can’t reach her. It’s not that I’m . . . I mean, I don’t need help. But could you sort of . . . could you fix it?’

  Oh God, he sounded so strange and confused. The complete opposite of the normal Paul – the Paul she used to know, when she first started working at Cormack, before any of this began. When he was just that little bit arrogant and overtly opinionated, plus a tiny bit flirty, but not enough to be creepy. Basically a funny, nice boss.

  ‘Okay, Paul. Don’t worry, I’m coming now, okay? I’m coming to find you.’

  ‘I’m not lost,’ he repeated, and his voice sounded petulant, like a small indignant child.

  ‘I know, Paul, that’s okay. I need to get something from the shops anyway, so it’d be nice to meet you for a coffee. Is there somewhere nearby you can sit down and wait? A bench seat? Tables and chairs?’

  There was another long pause. Muffled noises and then his voice came back again. ‘I can wait for you here,’ he said. ‘On this chair. If that’s what you want.’

  ‘That’s great. I’m hanging up now. I’ll see you soon.’

  Frankie shoved the phone back into her pocket. She was confident she knew where he was. There was a shopping centre close to the office – it was huge and maze-like so it was no wonder he’d become confused. She knew as well that Linda had packed him lunch so he wouldn’t have to go anywhere, but he’d obviously forgotten. Once upon a time a walk across to the shops for lunch had been part of his daily routine. Sometimes he slipped back into old habits.

  Coby had been waiting for her, listening in on the conversation.

  ‘Are you leaving?’ he asked. The look on her face answered his question before she could. ‘Mum, I haven’t even done the shot put or triple jump yet. And there’s going to be finals after lunch. Will you be back for the finals?’

  At the same moment Hayley seemed to materialise from nowhere. ‘Mummy, where have you been. You haven’t been watching me all day!’

  ‘She has to go,’ said Coby. ‘She’s leaving.’

  Christ. It was like she was walking out on them for the rest of their lives.

  ‘Mummy!’ Hayley squealed. ‘You can’t leave, you told me you’d watch me. You promised. If you go, that breaks your promise and if you break a pro
mise then you have to die.’

  Frankie crouched down in front of the both of them, took in a deep breath and steadied her voice. It’s not the end of the world, she told herself, it’s not, it’s not, it’s not. I’m there for them when it counts. One day, they’ll forget this even happened. I’ll be there when it counts. I’ll be there when it counts.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ she said. ‘I’m really, really sorry. But there’s an emergency at work and I have to go. But I’ll come back, okay? As soon as I get it all sorted out, I’ll come back and I’ll try my best to be back in time to catch the end of it all, okay? I’ll try my absolute best.’

  Thankfully an announcement came across the oval from a PA system, telling all the children to rejoin their class groups for lunchtime. ‘Listen,’ she said, ‘you have to go back to your teachers and your friends now anyway.’

  ‘You were going to have a picnic lunch with me,’ said Hayley. ‘That was a promise too. You’re breaking two promises. That’s double dead. You’ll get double-dead now.’

  ‘Hayley! Stop saying that! Contrary to what someone’s been filling your head with, breaking a promise is not in fact punishable by death, okay? And when you’re a grown-up and you have a job, you’ll get it.’

  Hayley at least let Frankie hug her goodbye, but Coby pulled back out of her reach and Frankie headed off to her oven of a car with a heavy dose of mum-guilt dragging her shoulders down. And once again she felt the injustice of it all. Neither Hayley nor Coby had even asked about whether or not their dad could take time off work to come and watch them. It was like there was this unspoken rule where mums were expected to be flexible, were supposed to be able to get out of work and be there for them, but for some reason there was no expectation at all on dads to do the same.

  Once more, she longed for her parents. They would have loved to have come along with a couple of fold-out chairs and watched the kids race.

  Thirty minutes and several questionable amber lights later, she parked at the shopping centre and strode quickly through the car park and inside. She dialled Paul but it rang a few times before going to his voicemail.

 

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