‘I thought you liked Roger,’ Maddi puffed.
‘I did. But now he gives me the creeps.’
‘Is that since the . . . you know, the attack? You don’t think it was him, do you?’ Maddi said, glancing back again even though Roger and his house were well out of sight.
‘I don’t know. But the next time he sends me a note I’m telling Laura.’
‘Mm. Bruno’s got issues with him, that’s for sure,’ Maddi said, pulling a twig from an ornamental plum tree and stripping the leaves.
‘He’s never done that to anyone before. He really freaked me out.’
Maddi watched Alex remove Bruno’s collar. ‘God, Alex, you’re shaking. Look at your hands.’
‘I know,’ Alex quavered.
The first thing Maddi noticed when the glass doors slid open and they entered the store was Isaac’s smile.
‘Howdy, Alex.’ He grinned from behind the counter.
‘Hey, Isaac. This is Maddi,’ Alex said.
‘Hey.’ Isaac nodded in Maddi’s direction, his eyes the same shade of blue as his shirt. ‘How are you feeling?’ he said, turning back to Alex.
‘I’m OK. It’s not like I died or anything,’ she said, her top lip curling.
‘I know that, but I felt bad when I heard. I should have walked you home.’ His eyes flicked to Maddi, as though he’d understand if at any given moment she’d start tossing eggs at him on behalf of her friend.
‘Old Martin has been asking when you’ll be back,’ Isaac said. ‘He’s pissed off about you missing so much work. I reckon you should give him a call before he fires you,’ he added, grimacing and rubbing the stubble on the side of his cheek, revealing his perfectly white teeth.
Alex rolled her eyes. ‘Oh man, I hate talking to old Martin.’
‘I don’t get that you’re not hot for him,’ Maddi said, glancing back at the counter where Isaac whistled a tune and stacked cigarettes behind the counter.’
‘He’s OK, but he can be annoying. Most of the time he ignores me and I ignore him,’ Alex said, dropping a large bag of jelly snakes into their shopping basket.
After they left the store, Bruno seemed to Maddi to be in scent-overload as, tail wagging and nose down, he criss-crossed the width of the pavement. ‘Would you normally walk this way home after work?’ Maddi said, swinging their bag of treats.
Alex nodded and for a while they walked in silence, Maddi acutely aware of her friend’s intense expression as she studied the houses, the gardens and trees she had passed that night. She wondered if Alex was rethinking events, considering what she might do differently should she be faced with the same horror again. Unable to imagine how terrifying it must have been, Maddi’s thoughts shattered like glass when Bruno suddenly lunged at a pair of strutting pigeons who took to the air with a frenzied display of flapping. That was when Maddi noticed a sole figure walking towards them, of no particular interest at first, until moments later.
‘That’s Fullavit,’ she murmured, their science teacher’s tall shape, his dishwater grey hair now discernible ahead. ‘What’s he doing here?’ she said, slowing, wincing at the sight of his dark tracksuit with its brand name emblazoned in high-visibility green one entire side of the jacket and pants. ‘He’s such a drop kick,’ she said, walking even slower now.
‘I think he lives around here,’ Alex said, her eyes not leaving the tall shape coming towards them.
‘Let’s cross the street,’ Maddi said underwhelmed by the prospect of a Saturday chat with Fullavit.
‘What’s your problem, Maddi?’ Alex said through twisted lips.
‘No problem, Alex. He’s just a creep, that’s all. I’m not at school so there’s nothing forcing me to speak to him.’
‘Nothing but good manners. You—’
Maddi stared in disbelief as Alex stopped talking, her eyes staring ahead like a zombie’s, the colour draining from her face as though someone had pulled a plug. Turning to her, Maddi grasped Alex’s arms but still her friend’s avid gaze did not alter. She grasped tighter, anticipating from the look of her that Alex was about to collapse on the pavement.
‘Are you OK, Alex?’ she muttered, shaking Alex’s shoulder, the thumping of her own heart gathering wild momentum as Bruno broke free from Alex’s grasp and lunged into a bush, his raised butt and waving tail the only visible part of him. She glanced back to Mr Fuller who was almost within hearing distance. ‘Alex, move,’ she rasped, shaking her, mildly at first and then more forcefully. ‘Freakin’ move.’ She pushed away invasive thoughts of Fullavit willingly giving mouth-to-mouth and ambulances.
The gradual return of colour to Alex’s stony face heralded the seeping back of normality so by the time Fullavit had reached them Maddi felt more confident.
‘Good morning, girls,’ Fullavit said, slowing as he approached.
‘Hello, Mr Fuller,’ Maddi muttered, grabbing up Bruno’s lead from the ground and dragging Alex by the shoulder with the aim of steering her across the street.
‘Good morning, Alex,’ Fullavit repeated with a mildly furrowed frown.
Alex turned and waved as Maddi breathed a thankful sigh of relief at a break in the traffic, before dragging Alex and Bruno across the road.
‘What happened to you?’ Maddi said, turning to Alex on the pavement. ‘You totally freaked me out back there.’ Maddi detected that Alex was still not herself but at least now she seemed capable of speech.
‘I don’t know. The same thing happened a couple of days ago when I was talking to Laura Nesci. It was just like a flash . . . like I see this tall guy dressed in black and moving towards me. Then it all goes blank. But it’s so real . . . like it’s actually happening again.’ Her eyes filled with tears. ‘Thanks,’ she said in barely a whisper, taking Bruno’s lead.
‘Maybe it’s a good thing that it’s all starting to come back to you,’ Maddi said softly.
‘That’s what Laura Nesci said. But it doesn’t feel good.’
Maddi found it difficult to get to sleep that night. It may have been because she was not in her own bed; it may have been because chips and soft drink and sweets still painstakingly gurgled their way through her intestinal tract. It may even have been the horror movies they had watched all night. Whatever it was she was still wired. She listened to the gently rhythmic breathing of her friend in the bed beside hers, and a sense of calm gradually overtook her. She began to drift into sleep. Until Alex simply stopped breathing. Maddi waited, certain the next breath would eventually come. But with every silent second that passed her panic rose, to the point where she leapt from her bed to lean over and shake her friend awake. Alex took a gulp of air, immediately springing to a sitting position, mouth gaping, blood curdling screams piercing the silence like a dagger as she repeated over and over, ‘He’s coming. He’s coming to get me!’
In that split second Maddi was spun into paralysing spasms of uncertainty about whether her best friend was asleep or awake, about what she should do.
The sound of another door flinging open was instantly followed by the vision of Cynthia Holt in pink and blue flannelette pyjamas flicking the switch to fill the room with glare, and grabbing Alex up into her arms. Close behind was Greg, who stopped at the doorway, seemingly helpless, the hair covering his chest thinning to a fine line over his belly and disappearing behind red jocks.
‘He’s coming,’ Alex sobbed over and over.
‘Sweetheart, it’s OK. Mum’s got you. Shhh. Shhhh. You’re safe now,’ Cynthia whispered, slowly rocking her daughter, running her hand over Alex’s damp hair, glancing up at Greg with eyes that screamed helplessness.
Without warning, Alex pulled away from her mother’s arms, facing her as though seeing her for the very first time. ‘I tried to see his face. But I couldn’t . . . I’ll never know what he looked like . . . he was wearing a balaclava.’
CHAPTER TWELVE
Laura felt her mouth gaping, still trying to take in what Simon had just said. �
��What do you mean?’
‘Just what I said. I made a mistake and I want to come home,’ he said with puppy eyes.
Struggling to make sense of her confused thoughts she turned back to the coffee machine. ‘What changed your mind?’ she said.
‘Having time to myself made things clearer in my head. I realise now that I actually like how you are.’ He stepped around the breakfast bar towards her, his arms outstretched. ‘And that I simply need to be more tolerant,’ he said, melting into puppy eyes again.
Laura sidestepped him and concentrated on unwrapping the cherry Danish. It was fresh and glossy, and she seriously considered keeping it for herself.
Simon’s voice softened. ‘I realise now what we have, Laura. I don’t want to throw that away.’
‘Are you sure you spent the entire time alone?’ Turning to face him, her hackles rose over three months of silence – and before that, countless months of unreasonable antagonism and unexplained discontent on his part. She girded herself for what was to come, knowing from experience that Simon had an uncanny ability to manipulate the truth into believable explanations whenever it meant getting himself out of trouble, no matter how menial that trouble might be.
He rolled his eyes. ‘Would I be here now if there was someone else?’
‘That is not a “no”, Simon. If we are to make this work you have to be honest with me,’ she said cutting the cherry Danish in halves.
‘Yes,’ he said, returning her glare as he took the plate she handed him. ‘I spent the entire time alone.’
Once upon a time, the act of Simon taking her hand as they strolled onto the sand would have made Laura’s heart sing. Today she resisted the urge to pull away, to maintain the autonomy she had enjoyed pre-Simon and had gradually reclaimed while he had been away. She took in the sound of the waves rolling into the shore, the distant squeals of a solitary gull, the whooshing of their feet through the powdered sand. She turned her eyes to the grey blue of the ocean, immediately wishing she could magically instil the same sense of calm into her swirling gut. I simply cannot believe anything he is telling me, she said over and over like a mantra in her mind. Yet I have no evidence for why I should not believe every word he utters.
‘I hadn’t realised how much I had been missing this place.’ Simon’s voice cut through her thoughts like a laser.
‘How far from the beach were you living?’ she asked, more sardonically than intended. She had never seen his rented flat. Had never been invited to visit.
‘Nowhere near as close as we are here,’ he said, smiling down at her, tightening his grip on her hand.
Still she didn’t pull away. But she wanted to. She wanted to turn to him and shout, ‘What the fuck are you playing at Simon? What is really going on here?’ Everything seemed to have been turned on its head with his bold expectation that he could simply walk back and pick up again where he had left off, no questions asked, no explanations necessary.
‘Simon, I’m still trying to understand why you left,’ she said, turning to him and sliding her hand from his. ‘I know things had deteriorated between us, but this three months seems to have made a miraculous difference to the way you think about me now – about us. No matter how hard I try, I don’t get it.’
Simon glanced down at her and then out to sea as they resumed walking. ‘Sometimes you need to go without before you can truly understand what is important. What’s not to get about that?’ he said with a touch of unsmiling agitation.
‘I can’t help thinking there was someone else. It’s the only explanation that truly makes sense to me.’
It was at that moment that Jenny’s voice echoed in Laura’s mind: Jenny, with her constant smile and mop of curls, the team peacemaker and self-appointed sage. They had been squeezed around a small round table at the corner tavern for Friday night drinks several weeks ago, and of course the conversation had drifted to men, despite Kevin’s presence.
‘Men never leave a relationship to be on their own,’ Jenny had said, her dimples deep in her cheeks, her fulsome hair adding a touch of the sublime to her seer-like nod. ‘They’ll only leave when they think there’s something better to go to . . . Mark my words,’ she’d added with a wink, completely unaware that Simon had left Laura only a week or two before.
‘Well, I can’t help it if nothing makes sense to you, Laura,’ Simon said now. ‘If you can’t believe me, there’s nowhere for us to go.’
Laura took a deep breath. Watched a pair of tiny plovers scuttle across the sand ahead. It seemed the decision was entirely hers to make now. Her choice was to resume where they had left off and to trust him, or to walk away – to quit, once and for all.
Simon stopped walking and took her hand again, more forcefully this time. Looked down at her, his brown eyes shining with tears. ‘I love you, Laura. I truly love you. I know now I can’t live without you. You have to believe me,’ he pleaded.
Laura’s own tears stung behind her eyes, slid down her cheeks. Simon rarely cried. She studied his face, the grey-brown stubble on his jaw, his thinning salt and pepper fringe falling forward on his forehead. Swallowed her tears. Perhaps it really was as simple as he said. She walked into his arms, melted into his chest. He pulled her close and buried his nose in her hair, breathing deep with emotion. And suddenly having him close like this made more sense to Laura than simply tossing away what they had built together over the years.
‘I’m glad you’re home,’ she said, lifting her chin.
His kiss was softer, with more tenderness than she could remember. And she knew this was the right decision.
‘You look good,’ he said, eyeing her olive green pants and white camisole top, her latte jacket and ankle boots. ‘I think you’ve lost weight.’
‘Thanks. I have lost a couple of kilos.’ She tossed the strap of her leather bag over her shoulder, studying his pink shirt, the one he rarely wore but that she had always liked on him. ‘You look pretty hot,’ she said tugging at his collar, a surge of warmth flooding. ‘Come on, let’s go. I’m starving.’
The local pub was not Laura’s favourite eating spot, but it was quick service and the prices were reasonable. And tonight her mouth watered at the smell of a charcoal barbecue.
‘Have you noticed everyone is staring at us?’ Simon said once they sat down.
Laura gazed around the dining room, the exposed brick wall with stained glass windows, the timber bar, the expanse of nauseously swirling carpet. ‘Uh huh, I have,’ she said, buttering her roll. ‘But I’m not surprised. According to Bev, my hairdresser, everyone began to wonder when you sailed through town towing a trailer of furniture.’
‘Well, they can all stop wondering now,’ he said, smiling and reaching across the table for her hand.
‘They really will gossip if you turn suddenly romantic, Simon,’ she said, forcing a mischievous smile and slowly removing her hand from under his.
At home as they sipped after-dinner cognac she watched him study the view outside, dune shrubs silhouetted against the moonlit sky, the inky background of the sea, as though he was seeing it all for the first time.
He stretched out, resting his bare feet on the arm of the sofa.
‘How is your consultancy doing?’ Laura said, her feet curled under her on the matching leather settee, staring at his thick toenails, thinking they badly needed a cut and wondering if she should mention it.
He shrugged. ‘So so.’ Tilted his hand back and forth and sipped his drink.
‘So it didn’t keep you frantic for the three months you were away?’ she said, her voice deliberately light.
‘No. I spent time reading mostly. And thinking . . . about you in particular,’ he said, breaking into a wide smile. ‘And I slept in . . . walked . . . had long breakfasts over the papers. Generally took it easy. It all became a bit boring after a while.’
Laura watched as Simon again gazed out at the night. She wondered if he had given any consideration to what he would be doing
for the next twenty or thirty years of his life. Whether the occasional snippet of work, weekly tennis, gardening and reading were enough. The crack of Simon slapping his lap instantly shattered her thoughts.
‘Let’s go to bed,’ he said, wiggling his eyebrows.
Laura took her time brushing her teeth, removing her makeup and washing her face, aware that Simon was watching every move from their bed. And as she had expected, the moment she slid in beside him and turned off the light, he moved towards her, his hand creeping under her nightdress, his lips seeking hers in the dark.
‘Here, let’s get this off,’ he said, lifting her shoulders and removing her nightdress.
‘I’m not sure I’m ready yet,’ she murmured through his kisses, sounding even to herself like a virtuous virgin on her wedding night. Confusion mingled with displeasure and guilt over her lack of desire to make love with Simon, regardless of the yearnings that had plagued her while he’d been away.
‘You’ll be ready as soon as you feel me inside you,’ he whispered, climbing on top of her. ‘I love that you’ve lost weight,’ he added.
She wanted to tell him how much she relished the feel of his skin against hers. How it would be perfect if they took their time, perhaps embraced and talked about nothing just for tonight. But before she had the chance, his hips had thrust against hers and he was inside her. She moved with him, thought sexy thoughts, thoughts of Flynn spontaneously intruding to send her into spasms of guilt. She tried to relax and enjoy the lovemaking that had always been good between them. But then it was over, and Simon was kissing her as though they had just shared the greatest gift they could possibly have bestowed upon each other. She swallowed her tears and her heartbreak and kissed him goodnight.
‘Simon’s come home,’ Laura said to Tara on the phone the next night.
‘Really? That’s a surprise. Has he told you why he left in the first place?’
Things We Cannot See Page 9