Sleep Peacefully

by NC Marshall

  “Well, I didn’t tell her this. I wanted to, but as time went on when I came back to England it just got harder and harder, until it was just easier not to say anything at all.”

  “But Lola must have known, she was in Australia with you.”

  I lower my head, “Yes, Lola knew, but I asked her not to say anything, and she never did.”

  “So why now, after so long, why are you telling me now?”

  “Because I can’t do it anymore. The lies have been eating at me for years. I realised that if I want any sort of future with you I had to tell you.”

  “So, what happens now?”

  “I really don’t know, Matt,” I answer honestly, “but I’m going to go and stay at Mum’s for a bit. I think we both need time to clear our heads.”

  He nods silently, his silhouette starting to cast a shadow as the sun rises in the window behind him.

  I pick up my heavy bag, put it on my back and walk over towards him. Reaching up on to my tiptoes, I go to kiss him on the mouth, but he turns his face to the side and I lightly peck his cheek instead.

  I'm hoping that given some time, he will understand that the only reason I never told him about Adam was to protect him from being hurt. But the guilt had eaten away at me so much that in the end, I just had to tell him. All the shutting out of Matt and my family over the years had taken its toll on me and almost ruined our marriage. I’m not prepared to let it continue.

  I head towards the front door, but before I open it to leave, I pick up a picture which rests on the table in the hall. It’s of Matt and myself, taken when we were kids. We’re standing under the willow tree overlooking the lake at Mum’s house. In the photograph, we are about twelve years old and have our arms around one another. My focus is on the photographer, whoever that may have been; probably Dad. But Matt looks at me, and only me. His eyes are so full of love. I’d never noticed that until now. Why had I been so blind? It had been clear to everyone around us that Matt and I had been in love with each other for many years, why was I only seeing this now?

  I tuck the picture into the side pocket of my rucksack and take a final look at Matt. He stands motionless, still at the window, with his back to me. I wipe the tears from my eyes, shove the soggy tissue in my jacket pocket, and close the door quietly behind me. My only wish is that one day, he will once again look at me the way he had in that photograph.

  *

  I arrived at Mum’s a few hours ago and in that time I’ve done nothing more than sit staring at the wall in my old bedroom, the one I used to share with Nat before she moved out. I’ve tried to call Matt a few times, but he’s refusing to answer. I can’t blame him, if the tables were turned and I was in his position, I’d hate me too. I keep hoping to see his car headlights coming along the avenue or hear the roar of the engine pulling up outside. But he doesn’t come.

  I sit up on the bed and pull on my trainers. I can’t just sit here and do nothing. I need to get out, get some fresh air. I open the wardrobe door and search for the warmest item of clothing that I’ve brought, settling on a chunky grey woollen cardigan. The wardrobe is only half full. A few things of mine, and a few of Nat’s for when she comes to stay with Mum.

  I can’t help but smile, as I see the posters on the inside of the door secured with Sellotape, which is now peeling away at the edges and yellow from age. The old magazine pull-outs display the faces of boy bands and movie stars that Nat and I had obsessed over as teenagers. I can’t believe that they are still there, after all these years.

  Mum is busy in the kitchen as I enter the room.

  “Mum, I’m heading out for a bit,” I say as I kiss her on the cheek.

  “Okay hun, wrap up warm. It’s freezing out there, so don’t stay out too late. I’m baking a pie, I’ll leave you some to heat up when you get back.”

  I laugh to myself as I pick up my car keys from the kitchen table and head out. You’d think I was still eight years old, the way she fussed and worried.

  I jog to the car and get in, quickly turning the heat on full and wait for the misted windows to clear. I glance over to the lake. I can’t help but think of Matt whenever I see it. We spent so much time there when we were young. I can close my eyes now and see the two of us basking on the wooden boards of the jetty, eating ice-lollies, our bare legs dangling over the side on a hot summer’s day. I sigh as I start to drive, forcing myself not to cry. I’ve lost him, I know I have.

  *

  It’s dark by the time I reach Milton Point. I park the car on the road closest to the cliff walkway and get out. I hitch my long skirt up slightly as I walk up the path towards the lookout point. It’s muddy and damp from earlier rain. My feet sink into it with each step I take up the steep climb.

  I run my hand through my windswept hair and try to catch my breath as I approach the cliff top. My fingers get stuck in the knots, and I drag my hands through it angrily to loosen them. The climb had given me too much time to think, and now that I’m up here, memories of Dad flood back and it feels too much to bear. Maybe coming here tonight was a mistake.

  The beach below looks beautiful as I reach the cliff edge. Its calm water laps at the shore, illuminated by the moonlight. I breathe in the air and hold it in my lungs before releasing it, trying to remove the blinding headache that I have. My limbs feel stiff from the restless night’s sleep last night, and tension cuts through my shoulders and down into my lower back.

  I cross my arms over my chest and hug myself, trying to get some warmth into my body as I shiver in the coldness of the January night.

  I close my eyes and let my arms fall to my sides. What if I just jumped, right now? Just let myself walk slowly edge to the end until there is no ground to stand on anymore. I open my eyes and shake my head at the ludicrous and selfish thoughts that have passed through my mind. I could never do that.

  I slowly walk away from the edge and sit down on the bench beneath the tree. It feels cold underneath the thin cotton fabric of my skirt, and I regret not packing anything warmer to wear. Maybe I’ll pop over to the apartment tomorrow and pick up some more things. I’ve decided to meet Adam tomorrow morning at the airport to say goodbye, and to tell him that I’m not going to be travelling back to Australia with him.

  I look out to the sea, which seems to go on forever. It’s waves roll in quietly under the black, cloudless sky. I can remember sitting here, in this exact same spot with Dad. We would bring a picnic up here on a Saturday afternoon and sit on a red-checked picnic blanket, watching the ships line up on the distant horizon. Dad would tell me true stories of sailors and shipwrecks from the years past. A tear escapes from my eye and I wipe it lightly with the back of my hand.

  A woman walking her dog moves past where I sit. She smiles and nods at me politely and says “Hello.” I smile back up at her and pat the dog’s back as it brushes past my legs.

  I pull my phone from my pocket and hit the recently called list to try Matt once more. I’ve already left him one voice mail asking him to come and meet me. I really need to talk to him, to explain and tell him how I feel. Once again, there’s no answer; his voice mail message comes on and I listen silently for the beep before I talk.

  “Matt, it’s Jess... again. Look, I can’t begin to tell you how sorry I am. I don’t think we had a good chance to talk before I left this morning, and I really want to try to explain things properly, explain to you what happened between me and Adam. I know you got the message that I left you earlier about meeting me at Milton Point. Well, just to let you know I’m here and waiting so hopefully you’re on your way... see you soon. I love you.”

  I bury the phone back into my pocket and pull my knees up onto the seat, holding them close to my chest and rocking to try and warm myself up. I have sat here for a while, as I see the lights of houses in the distance start to go off. It must be getting late. I’d better get back to Mum’s, she’ll be starting to worry.

  I stand up to make a move, but a noise behind me stops me dead in my tracks. It’s footste
ps coming from the footpath behind me; I can hear the crunching of the frost on the ground from under his feet.

  A smile spreads on my lips as I start to turn around. I knew he wouldn’t give up on me. Matt would never give up so easily on what we had. I squint my eyes, trying to focus on him, but I can only see an outline. I move closer as his body is illuminated by the light nearby, and I can almost make out his exact shape.

  “Matt,” I say. My voice sounds quiet against the loud noise coming up from the crashing waves below, so I’m unsure if he’s heard me. I take a step forward, and the figure finally comes into the light, but it’s not Matt. It’s not him at all.

  Chapter 33

  “Where do you want to meet?” I ask Adam coldly, I’m already back at the car and searching for my keys. The walk back down from the cliffs was certainly a lot easier than the hike to get up there.

  Funnily, I’d expected to see Adam again before he went home to Australia, but I thought it would be in person. I’d forgotten that I’d given him my mobile number on Christmas Day at the church. I knew he wasn’t telling me everything.

  “I’m in the car now,” says Adam, “are you anywhere near your mum’s house?”

  “Not far, but I don’t want her to see you, not today of all days.”

  “Yeah, I know. Look, I’ll meet you in the cafe, the one near your mum’s on the lake.”

  “The Waterfront?” I ask. “It’s not a café, Adam, it’s a bar.”

  “Even better,” he replies briskly, “I could do with a drink.”

  *

  A while later, I pull open the heavy wooden door to the Waterfront bar. It’s gone seven-thirty by the time I get there, and it’s getting busy. Not surprising for a Friday night. There isn’t exactly a bustling choice of places to drink in this town.

  I scan the people standing at the bar and eventually see Adam down at the end of it, an empty bottle in front of him. He doesn’t attempt to move as I pull up a bar stool and sit next to him.

  “Drink?” he asks, then promptly gets the barmaid’s attention. She practically falls over her own feet in her hurry to get to him.

  “I’ll have a lime and soda water,” I say as Adam hands her a ten pound note and orders himself another bottle of cider. She gives us our drinks and hands Adam a glass filled with ice, giving him a sweet smile and holding eye contact with him a little longer than she should in a professional sense. Adam is oblivious to her advances as he pushes the glass to one side, choosing to take a hefty swig from the bottle instead. He finishes, and puts the now half empty bottle down on the bar, finally looking at me to give me his full attention.

  “So, what do you want to talk about?” I ask as I unravel my scarf from around my neck and place it over the back of the seat, along with my coat. I rub at my aching temples, then twist my matted, severely windswept hair up into a ponytail, securing it with a hair band from around my wrist.

  A rowdy bunch of girls fall through the door and head straight to the bar. They are dressed in very little and wear pink feather bowers around their necks. One has on a bright pink veil, and L plates attached to her bum. I could think of a lot more decent venues than this to host a hen party.

  “Should we go and sit somewhere a little quieter?” I ask Adam, who is already on his feet and moving, clearly irritated by the girl’s drunken states.

  We head to the back of the pub near a kid’s daytime play area, and find a quiet booth. Adam squeezes in on one side while I sit on the other, directly opposite him.

  “Can you remember that day at the church?” asks Adam. His eyes look dull and have deep shadows beneath them, he looks like he hasn’t slept in days.

  “Yeah,” I say, “what about it?”

  “When you called your husband.”

  “Yeah,” I say again, not sure where he’s going with this. “I called him to let him know I was safe, I didn’t want him to worry about me.”

  Adam shakes his hands at me. “No, no, not that.”

  He leans forward over the table towards me. “I don’t know if you remember, but when you finished speaking, you dropped your phone on the ground, and I picked it up for you.”

  I nod, although I don’t remember dropping my phone. But then, I was in such a state over meeting Adam in the way I did, that it didn’t surprise me if I had. Now he has me completely confused. I wish he would get to the point. He’s not my most favourite person at the moment. This is only making it worse.

  Adam must notice my frustration and quickly gets to the point he’s attempting to make.

  “There was a picture on your phone, a screen saver.”

  “Yes,” I say bluntly. “A picture of my son. Most people have photos of their kids as screen savers, Adam, it’s pretty common,” I announce sarcastically.

  “Can I have another look at it?” he asks, holding out his hand to take my phone. I find his request a little odd, but nevertheless, I fish my phone out of my pocket and tap in the security code to unlock it. The screen lights up with a picture of Josh and Liam, which had been taken at Josh’s fifth birthday party back in June.

  I slide the phone across the table to him, pushing it a little too hard. Adam catches it on the other side just in time, before it spins off the table entirely.

  He holds the phone up and studies it carefully, a look of anger blatantly crossing his face.

  “Yep, I thought so,” he says, handing me back the phone.

  “What?” I ask, looking into the phone and studying Josh’s face, which grins back at me. He looks so cute dressed in his Hawaiian style shirt and denim jeans cropped at the knees.

  “What are you saying, Adam?” I’m growing increasingly angry. He’s talking in riddles that I don’t understand, and when his ridiculous puzzles involve my son, I don’t have the time or patience to play guessing games. “What are you trying to tell me? Something about my son?” My voice rises above the increasing noise of the crowd.

  Adam laughs sarcastically and raises his bottle to his lips, draining what is left in it. “Not your son, Nat, the other little boy, the one on the left.”

  I narrow my eyes “Liam? That’s my brother’s little boy, my nephew.” I look at the picture of Liam, his shirt almost identical to Josh’s, only blue instead of red. The two boys are so close in age, they have always been more like brothers than cousins. They adore each other. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, Adam.” I shuffle forward in my seat and grab my handbag, rising to my feet to leave.

  Adam stops me by grabbing my hand roughly, pulling me back to my seat. I push him off me, settling back to where I was sitting.

  “Keep your hands off me!”

  “Look at the picture again, Nat,” he orders.

  I flash him a dirty look as I pull the phone back to my face and study the photograph more closely. At first I don’t know what I'm looking for, then suddenly what Adam is trying to tell me hits me like a bolt of lightning. I put my hand to my mouth as I move the image of the boys closer to my eyes in disbelief.

  “And she gets it!” Adam declares, throwing his hands up into the air, then placing them to his face and rubbing at his unshaven chin.

  I don’t know how I hadn’t seen it before, how could I have missed it? I look again at the picture of my nephew I had seen a hundred times, then back to the man sitting opposite me. There is no denying it. Liam has the same golden tone to his hair, which is curled slightly, too. He has the same naturally dark skin and face shape. The same dimples in his cheeks, which deepen as he smiles. But most of all, those eyes are identical and the same piercing shade of green—exactly the same.

  I drop the phone onto the table “Oh my God, you’re not...”

  Adam nods his head slowly, “Yes Nat, I think I am. I think I’m Liam’s father.”

  I see his body visibly relax a little, maybe just from the relief of telling someone his suspicions. He grips his hands together and leans forward over the table towards me, lowering his voice as he continues. I struggle to hear him over the dance
music that is now blasting out of the speakers above our heads. Adam gives up and moves to my side of the booth. He squeezes in and sits next to me. He’s so close that his knee leans heavily against mine. Usually I would move, feeling a strong need for personal space. However, I’m too gobsmacked to move an inch, and stay frozen to the seat. Adam leans close to my ear. I can smell the faint alcohol on his breath, mixed with the strong scent coming from his heavy aftershave, as he continues on with his story.

  “It was five years ago. The night before Lola was due to leave Australia. She had been in Melbourne, but she decided to travel back to Perth to say goodbye to some friends that she had made while she had been staying there with Jess. I had received the divorce papers from your sister that morning and had spent most of the day getting hammered. I bumped into Lola in a casino bar. One thing led to another, and she ended up coming home with me. It was a one night stand, Nat, and meant nothing to either of us.”

  “She didn’t tell you she was pregnant?” I ask.

  “No. I had no idea until I saw that photo,” he says, nodding to my phone, its screen now blank. “It’s all I’ve been able to think about since. Liam’s the double of me when I was a kid.” He lowers his head, his thumb circling the rim of the empty cider bottle. “We didn’t use any protection. I assumed she was on the pill, but, to be honest, we didn’t discuss contraception, we were both too drunk.”

  I sink back into my seat, unable to move or to speak. I remember back to how happy Ryan had been when he found out Lola was pregnant. Although he was a little shocked that it had happened only a few weeks into their relationship, still he was thrilled.

  But the truth was she had already been pregnant, with Adam’s baby.

  I think of Ryan now. His dark features and thin, lanky frame, his straight hair and deep brown eyes. It had never even occurred to me that he and Liam looked nothing alike. He adores that little boy, Liam is his life. This news is going to crush him.