Liv was in the car and on her way in under three minutes when she called Lachie as promised. She’d never heard fear like that in his voice, and it was unsettling, given the psychic connection that many people – Liv included – believed existed between twins. She didn’t know if Lachie was just feeling his brother’s pain or if he was foreshadowing something worse.
Okay, that kind of thinking is really not helpful, Liv.
‘I’m not far away, Lach,’ she said clearly down the phone. ‘Everything’s going to be all right. Okay? You have to be brave for your brother. Are you with him?’
‘Yep, I haven’t left him the whole time.’
She felt a lump in her throat. That was the only thing that could set her off right now. She swallowed. ‘Well, God knows what strange powers there are between you two. You stay with Dylan and I know he’s going to be all right.’
‘How far away are you?’
‘I could count it in blocks,’ she told him. ‘I’m just coming up to that intersection with the lights, near the servo, you know the one?’
‘Yeah.’
‘Damn, it just went red.’ She started to slow down, looking around. ‘There’s not a soul on the road, I’m going to go through.’
‘No, Mum, what if something happens?’
She didn’t want to frighten him. ‘It’s okay, Lach, I’m coming up to it now, slowly, I can see in every direction, either side . . . and I’m through!’
He actually laughed. ‘Mum, you’re such a badass.’
She was where her boys were concerned.
Less than a minute later she pulled up outside the house, and Allison was coming out to meet her; Lachie must have alerted her after she’d hung up the phone. Allison took her straight inside and down the hallway.
‘The place is quiet for a sleepover,’ said Liv.
‘They’re all out the back in the family room, Doug’s watching them. We brought Dylan in here, kept everyone right away.’
‘Thank you.’
Allison pushed open a door and Liv walked in. It was the master bedroom, she assumed. Dylan lay curled up like a pretzel in the middle of the large bed; Lachie was hunched over him, stroking his head like he would a puppy. Lachie looked up, and she saw the relief wash over his face. ‘Dyl, it’s okay,’ he said. ‘Mum’s here.’
‘Hey, matey,’ she said gently as Lachie shifted out of the way. She climbed up next to Dylan, and he winced as the mattress moved under her weight. His face was twisted in pain and he was pale as a ghost, his damp hair plastered to his skull. Liv touched his forehead; he was burning up. ‘Does it hurt anywhere else but your stomach?’ she asked him.
‘No, and yes . . . my skin, all over,’ he breathed.
‘Okay, we’re going to get you to the hospital,’ she said, her voice calm and soothing. ‘That’s where they keep the good drugs, they’ll stop the pain in no time.’
‘Should I call an ambulance?’ Allison asked from the doorway.
Liv turned around. ‘You know, what are we, ten minutes from St George? There’s no traffic on the roads, I think it’ll be quicker if I just take him straight there. Lachie will stay with him in the back seat, won’t you?’
‘Yep.’
‘But I think we’ll need Doug to help us get him into the car?’ Liv said.
‘Of course.’
Allison left, and Liv turned back to Dylan. ‘Doug’s going to carry you out to the car, okay?’ she said, and he winced and grunted in response. ‘It might hurt for a bit, but it’ll be better than walking. Quicker we can get you into the car, quicker we get you there, and the quicker you get rid of this pain, okay?’
He nodded, reaching out to grasp her hand.
Thank God Doug was a big man; he scooped Dylan up as though he was a baby. Getting him into the car proved more of a challenge: Doug told him to stay scrunched up in a tight ball, and he kind of launched him into the back seat. And then they were on their way, Lachie cradling his brother’s head on his lap, his face pinched with fear.
When they arrived at the hospital, Liv drove straight into the emergency entrance.
‘Hey, Ma,’ said Lachie, ‘it says emergency vehicles only.’
‘We are an emergency vehicle,’ she said, pulling up right in front of the doors to casualty.
‘Told you she was a badass, Dyl.’
‘You wait here,’ said Liv. ‘I’m going to go and grab the first person I see in a uniform.’
Chippendale
Madeleine gradually drifted into consciousness, taking in the sounds around her. She was at the apartment . . . and someone was breathing right next to her . . .
She jumped up onto her knees in one movement, shimmying away from Aiden, bringing the sheet with her. ‘Shit, shit!’
He was lying on his stomach, his face turned towards her, and he started to blink, peering out at her. ‘Maddie . . .’
‘Aiden, what have we done?’ she said tearfully. ‘This is bad, this is really bad. Oh my God!’
‘Maddie, calm down,’ he said, reaching over to plant his hand on her knee. ‘It’s okay –’
‘Are you fucking kidding me?’ she cried, backing away from him to the edge of the bed. ‘Do you realise what we’ve done? This is so bad, Henry will never forgive me for this.’ She dropped on her knees to the floor, the sheet twisted awkwardly around her as she rocked back and forth.
Aiden pulled himself over to the side of the bed, still on his stomach. His face was level with hers, but she couldn’t look at him. ‘Maddie, listen to me.’
She didn’t respond, she just kept rocking.
‘We were drunk, it just happened, it’s not the end of the world.’
‘How can you say that?’ she returned, her voice hoarse.
‘Because it’s true. It was just sex. You had a bit too much to drink and you let loose. It was your bachelorette party, it happens.’
She raised her head slowly to look at him. ‘Why didn’t you stop it?’
‘What?’
‘If you knew I was so drunk, you should have stopped it,’ said Madeleine. ‘Were you as drunk as me? You couldn’t have been, you got me home, I don’t even remember getting home. You must have been all right.’ Her voice was becoming shrill. ‘Why would you do that, Aiden, when you knew I was so drunk?’
‘Hold on just a minute,’ he said, drawing himself up onto his elbows. ‘What you’re implying . . . I mean, you were all over me, you knew what you were doing, and you didn’t once try to stop me.’ He paused, shaking his head. ‘For fuck’s sake, Maddie, I didn’t rape you.’
She winced, hearing the words. ‘I know, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said . . . It was as much my fault.’ She clutched her hands to her face. ‘I kept seeing it last night, in my sleep, but I kept telling myself that it was only a dream,’ she said, a lump welling in her throat, choking her. ‘Because we didn’t do that, we couldn’t –’ She began to sob. ‘What am I going to do?’
‘Grow up, Maddie,’ he said harshly.
That stung. Aiden had never spoken to her like that before.
‘This was just waiting to happen,’ he went on. ‘And if you ask me, Henry had it coming.’
‘What?’ Now she was shocked. ‘How can you say that? I don’t even . . .’ She got up and staggered into the bathroom, slamming and locking the door behind her. What did he mean, Henry had it coming? And why was he being so nasty? Why wasn’t he feeling as bad about this, too?
Henry . . . that was it, she’d done it, she’d ruined everything. She couldn’t expect forgiveness, not again. He would never understand – how could he? She didn’t understand it herself. How could she get so drunk to let that happen? She racked her brain, trying to recall how it started, but it was hazy. They were standing in the kitchen . . . she was all over Aiden, like he said. But Madeleine remembered suddenly realising she wanted it to stop – when he was fucking her on the benchtop. It was a bit late then. She could blame the drink, but she had definitely been aware of what she was doing. She just
hadn’t cared, she hadn’t even thought about the consequences. Henry hadn’t come into her head. Then through the night, when it all played out again in her dreams, she’d convinced herself the whole thing had only happened in her subconscious: Henry kept walking in and finding them together, and she’d jump, momentarily alert, reassured it was only a dream.
But it wasn’t a dream. She had betrayed Henry in the worst possible way, and he would never forgive her for this.
Madeleine emerged from the bathroom sometime later, wrapped in a towel. She had stood under the shower for ages, sobbing, until her skin was puckered and she had no tears left to cry. She felt calmer now, but in a hollow, desolate kind of way. Aiden had made the bed, and she could smell coffee.
He appeared in the doorway, fully dressed. ‘I made coffee,’ he said.
She nodded. ‘Can you give me a minute?’
‘Sure.’ He stepped out again, closing the door.
She dressed slowly, methodically. Her body ached all over. Well, she’d fulfilled her fantasy to be taken fast and hard, so much for that. She thought of Henry’s tender lovemaking; how could she ever have imagined that wasn’t enough? She examined her face in the mirror. Her eyes were swollen and red, her lips too. She checked her neck, but there were no damning hickeys. Thank God for that at least.
Aiden knocked after a while.
‘Yes?’
He opened the door holding a cup of coffee.
‘No, I’ll have it out there,’ she said.
He nodded, and backed out again. Madeleine followed a minute or so later. She wanted to take this right out of the bedroom – that was until she caught sight of the kitchen bench. She had to stop herself from audibly gasping as she turned away and headed for the sofa. No, not there either; she preferred to keep some distance between her and Aiden. She finally dropped into the armchair her mum had let her take from the house. It had been her dad’s favourite. What would he think of her now, she wondered dully.
Aiden walked over and handed her the cup of coffee. She took it without looking at him, and he sat down on the sofa. ‘How are you feeling?’ he asked.
‘Numb, and in pain, all over. I don’t know how that can be, but that’s how it is.’
He sighed heavily, rubbing his eyes. ‘I don’t know what to say, Maddie. I don’t know what you want me to say. But what happened, happened. And I can’t say I’m sorry it did.’
‘What?’
‘I wouldn’t undo it for anything.’
‘And I would give anything to undo it,’ she retorted.
‘Don’t tell me you didn’t see this coming.’
‘What? I don’t know what you’re talking about.’
‘For Chrissakes, Maddie, this has been brewing since the day we met. How can you pretend you didn’t know what was happening between us?’
‘I didn’t know that was going to happen,’ she protested, but Aiden just kept on over the top of her.
‘You’ve been miserable since I got here, and I don’t know for how long before that.’
She was shaking her head. ‘That isn’t true. I love Henry.’
‘Well, that was a little hard to tell last night.’
‘Enough!’ She slammed her cup down on the coffee table and stood up. ‘That’s unfair. Just because we . . .’ She couldn’t say it, so she rushed on, ‘. . . it doesn’t mean I don’t love Henry. You have no right to say that.’
‘Okay, fine,’ he conceded. ‘You still have feelings for Henry. But is that enough?’
Madeleine started to pace, her head was hurting. ‘My feelings for Henry are more than enough, but I don’t know if his feelings for me will be enough to overcome this.’
‘Then he doesn’t deserve you.’
‘Don’t make it his fault.’
‘You don’t think it is?’ said Aiden.
‘Of course not,’ she declared, turning to glare at him. ‘How can me getting drunk and sleeping with his best man be Henry’s fault?’
‘Because he hasn’t been paying attention,’ said Aiden, raising his voice. ‘He’s had everything his own way, and you’ve been left lonely and unhappy. I could see it from the start, but Henry hasn’t even noticed. And this is what it’s led to. You don’t sleep with someone else when everything’s fine.’
Madeleine was bewildered. ‘My God, Aiden, you have to at least admit that what we did was wrong. Don’t you feel any loyalty towards Henry at all?’
‘Look, it’s not as though I planned it. But like I said, Henry had it coming.’
‘What could you possibly mean by that?’ she asked, lowering herself to perch on the edge of the armchair.
‘Don’t you see?’ Aiden sat forward. ‘Henry just floats through life, and everyone rushes to help him. Even I did, at the beginning. He has this way about him . . . My parents couldn’t do enough for him,’ he said, clenching his jaw. ‘Even my sister was infatuated with him, until I put her straight.’
Madeleine couldn’t believe what she was hearing.
‘I remember you said, first day I was here, that you played easy to get. Typical. Henry doesn’t actually have to do anything, people are just drawn to him. And someone like you lands in his lap, and he doesn’t even put in any effort after the fact.’
Madeleine was almost too stunned to speak. But she had to say something. She certainly had to defend Henry.
‘You have no idea what Henry’s done for me,’ she said. ‘You don’t know anything about us, you don’t know what I’ve already put him through.’
‘What are you talking about?’
She sighed heavily, slumping back into the armchair. ‘This is not the first time . . . I’ve cheated on Henry.’
‘What?’
A lump was rising in her throat as the details surfaced again in her mind, details she’d pushed down so far, she had allowed herself to believe that it didn’t happen, or that it was so small, and so long ago, that it didn’t matter.
But it wasn’t so small, and it wasn’t all that long ago.
‘The first time Henry and I were together was in New York,’ she began. ‘I fell in love with him, but neither of us said the words – it seemed too soon, too unreal. But after a couple of months he came out here, and we were so happy, but still we didn’t say it. He told me later that he didn’t feel it was right to bind me to him when we lived in different countries, until he worked out what he was going to do, what was possible.’ She paused. ‘He went away again, and I felt lost. In those months since I’d first met him, I’d calmed down, got my life back together. Remember how I told you I was going off the rails?’
Aiden nodded.
‘But after he left that time I started drinking again, heavily. I couldn’t bear not knowing what was going to happen. We kept in constant contact, like before, but there was no certainty I was ever going to see him again. And then I went away on tour with an author. He was a big drinker, so we kept staying up late, long after his events, getting smashed. The third night, we slept together. It was never going to lead to anything – he was married, I wasn’t even attracted to him. It was a stupid, drunken mistake. But I still felt so strongly that I’d betrayed Henry . . . just like I do now.’
‘Did you tell him?’
‘I did,’ said Madeleine. ‘When I got back from that tour, Henry said he was coming out again, in a week or two, and as soon as he got here, he told me he loved me, that he wanted to be with me, that he was going to find a way. So I had to tell him.’
Aiden looked disinterested. ‘What did he say?’
‘He was hurt, obviously, but he also understood. He said he hadn’t given me a firm commitment before then, so he didn’t have any right to expect fidelity. Then he said we should put it behind us . . . He forgave me.’
‘So why don’t you think he’ll forgive you now?’
‘Because now he has every right to expect fidelity!’ She raised her voice again. ‘Aiden, it’s . . . fuck, it’s two weeks today until I’m supposed to marry him!’
The
y sat for a while, in silence, except for the distant hum of traffic from the street below. Two weeks, and she’d ruined it all, ruined everything, and she was about to ruin Henry’s life . . .
‘I have to work out what I’m going to do,’ she continued after a while, ‘how I’m going to break this to Henry. That’s the worst part.’ The painful lump had lodged in her throat again. ‘If there was only some way I could avoid hurting him.’
Aiden sighed. ‘Easy. Don’t tell him.’
She looked at him. ‘What?’
‘He won’t hear it from me, it can be our little secret.’
She cringed. ‘I’m not going to lie to him.’
‘You don’t have to. It’s not like he’s going to ask you if you slept with me.’
Madeleine dropped her head in her hands. ‘For godsakes, Aiden, you and your bending of the truth.’ She looked up again. ‘You know, that theory of yours, it’s bullshit. People don’t lie to protect the other person, they lie to protect themselves.’
‘Then protect yourself.’
She stared at him. ‘I can’t. I couldn’t live with that, and Henry has a right to know the truth.’
Aiden was shaking his head. ‘Well, I think you’re making a mistake.’
‘No, I’ve already made the mistake. Now I just have to deal with it.’ She sat up straight again. ‘You’re going to have to leave, Aiden.’
‘What?’
‘Surely you realise it’s not appropriate for you to stay here any longer?’
He considered her for a moment. ‘Fine,’ he said. ‘I’ll go to a hotel.’
‘There’s no reason for you to stay in the country. There’s not going to be a wedding,’ she said. ‘Even if there was, you could hardly be the best man.’
‘You don’t think I know that?’
‘Then why not just go home?’
He grunted. ‘I’ll go when I know you’re all right.’
‘You don’t owe me anything,’ she said plainly. ‘You owe Henry . . . I don’t know, an apology, something, but you don’t owe me.’
‘Still, I’m staying for the meantime,’ he said, getting to his feet. He walked off into the bedroom, and she could hear him moving around, zipping up bags. Madeleine felt drained. She wanted to curl up in a ball and disappear into oblivion, and then to wake up and for the whole thing to be over. But it wasn’t over, not by a long shot.
The Best Man Page 29