The Family Next Door

by Sally Hepworth

  56

  ANGE

  Ange was driving to Summit Oaks. Polly Walker was strapped into the backseat in Ollie’s old infant car seat. She’d spent the morning looking after Polly. It had been quite lovely, having girl time. It seemed ridiculous now that she’d spent so much time feeling resentful about not having a daughter when there were four little girls right across the street from her. She could have girl time any time she wanted, all she had to do was ask. In fact, if she had asked, perhaps everyone would have been better off.

  She would ask from now on, she decided.

  Ben had asked her to bring Polly in to see Essie and Ange had been grateful for the task. Lucas was back in the house for now, and while Ange was being civil, every now and again she’d think about Erin and have a bitchy outburst. A classic case of Betrayal Tourette’s. (“Yes, just grab some milk, bread, and an illegitimate child from the supermarket, thanks so much.”) She knew it was juvenile, but for now it made her feel better and that was all she cared about.

  When she arrived at the hospital, a nurse pointed Ange in the direction of Essie’s room. She found Ben in the doorway. His face was ashen and his hair was all mussed as if he’d been running his fingers through it. When he caught a glimpse of Polly he grabbed her, cradling her as if she were a much smaller baby.

  “Is everything all right?” Ange asked.

  For a moment, Ben didn’t answer, just rested his forehead against Polly’s. After what felt like an eternity, he glanced back toward the room. Essie was propped upright, her head on Isabelle’s shoulder. A policeman stood beside them.

  “I’m not sure.”

  Ange was curious, but she forced herself not to ask. She had enough going on in her own life without prying into other people’s. “Is there anything I can do?” she asked instead.

  “I wish there was,” he said, looking into the room. Ange was quiet for a moment. Ben’s eyes remained on Essie. “I just thought it would give her a boost to see Polly. Thanks for bringing her in.”

  He gave Ange a nod of thanks, and took Polly to Essie’s side. He was right: the moment Essie laid eyes on her she visibly lifted. She cradled Polly next to her heart, the exact way Ben had. Ben slid in beside them and put his arms around them both.

  Ange knew Ben wasn’t perfect. Essie had told her about how he left his sweaty gym clothes on the bathroom floor, how he often worked late, how he rarely did the grunt work of the parenting. Ange remembered feeling quietly smug. After all, Lucas was faultlessly tidy, he was always around, and you’d be hard-pressed to find a more hands-on dad. But Ben had something going for him, Ange realized now, something that obliterated everything else.

  He only had eyes for Essie.

  57

  BARBARA

  Barbara snaked through the streets of St. Kilda, wondering what to do. She’d been forced to head all the way back to Melbourne because of the bushfires, but what had she been doing here in the first place? And why didn’t she remember coming here?

  Maybe she had Alzheimer’s? As horrible as that would be, at least it might be some kind of explanation for what was going on. She didn’t want to admit it, but the longer she drove in this heat, the more frightened she became. She pulled the car to the side of the road and tried to decide where to go. A hotel? A bed-and-breakfast?

  “Can we go on a twam ride, Gran?” Essie asked. She pointed a chubby finger at the tram that wove down the street they were on. “Please?”

  Her eyes were two shining beacons.

  “Not right now, honey. I have to figure out where we need to go first.”

  Barbara looked around. Nothing looked familiar, but then again, she hadn’t spent a lot of time in Melbourne before. Her aunt Esther lived in Melbourne, but it had been a while since Barbara had visited her. Barbara glanced over her shoulder. There was a tourist information booth a few meters up, on the opposite side of the road. She’d go there, she decided. They’d know what to do. They might even have information on the bushfires and tell her when she could get back on the road to Sydney.

  “Please, Gran?” Essie said. “Please can we go on the twam?”

  “No, sweetie,” she said. “Just stay here for a moment. I’m going to talk to the people at that booth.”

  And she got out of the car.

  Two minutes later she got back into the car with the name of a hostel and a bushfire update.

  “Is your seat belt on?” she asked, turning around. But Essie wasn’t there.

  “Essie?” Barbara twisted to look in both foot wells. They were empty. “Essie!”

  Panic rose in Barbara’s throat. She jumped out of the car and scanned the sidewalk but there was no sign of a child in either direction. Suddenly a car’s brakes screeched. Barbara gasped. Essie was on the road; a car hurtled toward her. It happened in an instant. Barbara stepped off the pavement and bolted, narrowly missing a car coming in the opposite direction. She caught Essie around the waist and heaved them both off the road and onto the tram tracks. This was the superhuman strength mothers talked about having when they saw their child in danger. This was it.

  We’re okay, she thought. We’re okay.

  On the tram tracks, they stood, catching their breath—their hearts pounding as one.

  “Gran,” Essie said, sobbing.

  “Shh. It’s all right,” Barbara said. The sun beat down on them. She needed to get them both to a hotel and give Essie a nice cool bath. Some clean clothes. And a nice long sleep.

  She lifted Essie safely onto the island platform and that’s when she heard the commotion start up again. More brakes screeching. What now? Barbara thought. “Ma’am!” came a voice. Barbara glanced around.

  And then the tram came.

  58

  ESSIE

  As she rested her head against the wall of her hospital room, Essie had an overwhelming feeling that this was penance. She’d left her daughter once before—in a park of all places—and as punishment, she’d been taken from her. It was karma, pure and simple. Ben was pacing the hall with Polly and Isabelle stood by the window. The police had left, or maybe they were out in the hallway, Essie didn’t know. She found it hard to concentrate on what everyone else was doing when her little girl was missing.

  Missing. Essie had no idea how to react to that word. It wasn’t as though Mia had been snatched by a stranger. She was with her grandmother, for heaven’s sake! Then again, Essie didn’t know if that was true. Was Barbara her grandmother? Was she Essie’s mother?

  Would she ever see Mia again?

  The police seemed to think she would. They reassured her with all sorts of stories—misunderstandings!—involving children who were returned home by the end of the day. They were confident this was one of those cases. But Essie was anything but confident. She wanted nothing more than to find her mother, to sort this whole situation out. At the same time, a thought hovered at the edges of her consciousness—if her mother was capable of taking Essie, and never returning her—if—what did that mean for Mia?

  Essie let out an involuntary sob. She felt Isabelle stand and move to her side at the same time as there was a tap at the door, and a policeman walked in.

  Essie sat up. “Is there news?”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  Essie scanned his face. It wasn’t the relieved, delighted face of an officer coming to tell a mother everything was all right. She wasn’t sure what kind of face it was. “Have you found Mia?” she asked tremulously.

  “We have.”

  Essie felt a flicker of hope. “Is she all right?”

  “She’s absolutely fine. Not a scratch on her.”

  Ben melted at the news. He fell to his knees, with Polly still in his arms. But Essie kept looking at the police officer.

  “And my … mum?” she asked in a small voice. It felt wrong to ask, as if asking was a betrayal to Isabelle. To Mia. At the same time she had to ask.

  “Well,” he said, “that’s a little more complicated. You see…”

  Essie sucked i
n a breath.

  59

  ANGE

  “We need to talk,” Ange said.

  Lucas looked surprised. That, in itself, was irritating. He was back in the house, so he obviously figured that was the end of it. Erin—and Charlie—had simply been another aberration, like Josie, and now they were going to move on with their lives.

  At least that’s what he thought.

  Ange thought of the way Ben had looked at Essie at the hospital. It wasn’t a look of infatuation or even affection—it was true, deep concern. He cared about her more than anything else. He put her before everything—and everyone—else.

  “What is it?” he said.

  They were in their bedroom. With the boys around, it was difficult to find a place to have a private conversation and the boys seemed to be always around—it was almost as though they sensed something was up and were staying close. But having them close did have its upsides. Twice Ange had seen Ollie watching something he shouldn’t on the iPad, and half an hour ago, when she glanced over Will’s shoulder while he was texting, she found out that he had a girlfriend—Candace! Why hadn’t she always kept them close, she wondered. Will and Ollie … and Lucas too. Maybe if she’d kept him close, she might have glanced over Lucas’s shoulder and realized he had a girlfriend too.

  Ange sat on the bed. “I can’t be married to you anymore.”

  Even as she said the words, a voice inside her head screamed: SHUT UP! SHUT UP! SHUT UP! Every marriage has problems. Isn’t it better to have some of him than none at all? You’ll never find someone else—even someone old and haggard—at your age. For God’s sake SHUT UP!

  But she kept talking.

  “We will be in a relationship forever, because we have two children. But you also have a child with another woman which means you will always have a relationship with her too. And knowing the kind of man you are, you’ll always have a relationship with Charlie—as you should.” She took a deep breath and forced herself to continue. “But that’s too many relationships for me, I’m afraid. Too much to sweep under the rug.”

  “But it’s over with Erin,” Lucas started.

  “It’s not just Erin,” Ange said. “It’s the other women. The ones I don’t know about.”

  Even as she verbalized the thought, she knew it was true. After all, what were the chances she’d just happened to have discovered the only two women Lucas had been unfaithful with?

  Lucas didn’t deny it. When Ange turned to face him again, his head was down and his hands were laced around the back of his neck.

  “You say the right things, Lucas, and you even do the right things. At least, you do a lot of things right. But being faithful isn’t an optional extra in a marriage. At least it isn’t for me.”

  He looked at her pleadingly. “Please, could you give me one more chance? The last one. If I do this again, I will leave without being asked.”

  Ange thought back to the day in the store. The two plaid chairs side by side. The imaginary grandchildren in their laps. Then she thought about the man she wanted to sit next to in those chairs.

  “You’re not a bad person, Lucas,” she told him. “But you’re a terrible husband.”

  “Ange—” he started.

  “The answer’s no,” she said and walked out of the room before she could change her mind.

  60

  ESSIE

  “But will she … be all right?”

  The policeman told Essie that Mia had darted into traffic and Barbara had whisked her out of the path of an oncoming car, only to be hit by a tram herself. Apparently Mia was totally unscathed but Barbara had been rushed to the hospital in critical condition.

  “I’m sorry, Mrs. Walker. We don’t have a lot of answers yet.”

  Mia was being brought to Summit Oaks by a female police officer and Ben had already left to meet them. Isabelle sat beside Essie with Polly on her lap. Essie had so many questions, but she couldn’t seem to project any. Every word had caught in her throat, tangling with other words.

  “What did Mia see?” Essie asked finally.

  “We don’t know,” the police officer said. “But she’s aware her grandmother was hit by the tram.”

  “And they were back in Melbourne? What were they doing in Albury?”

  The policeman’s shrug was clearly well-practiced. “Unfortunately we see this kind of thing regularly. “Often it’s drug related but not always. It can be mental illness—a psychotic break. With some older folks, it’s dementia. Or perhaps just a temporary confusion.”

  Essie tried to reconcile what he was saying with her mother. But … Barbara was the most levelheaded person Essie knew. She didn’t have temporary confusions, she certainly wasn’t into drugs. She was her mother.

  Except maybe she wasn’t.

  Another policeman appeared at the doorway and the policeman in the room stood. “Your daughter will be here any minute,” he said. “And I’ll be right outside.”

  Essie felt the room start to sway. Isabelle was looking at her; she could feel her eyes.

  “I want my mum,” she said quietly.

  “I know,” Isabelle said.

  “She was a good mother, you know. A great mother. I know you don’t want to hear that—”

  “Actually I do want to hear that. I know Mum’s worst fear was that someone was mistreating you. She always said that if you couldn’t come back to us, she prayed you were with someone who desperately wanted you and cherished you.”

  Tiny, precise footsteps echoed in the hallway. Essie and Isabelle stood in unison as Mia charged into the room. Essie swept her daughter up in her arms. “Mia!”

  Mia let herself be hugged for just a moment before she pulled back. “Gran had to go to the hospital.”

  “I know, sweetie.”

  “And I went in a police car.”

  “I heard.” Essie hugged Mia again. She caught eye contact with Ben who stood behind her. “Any news about Mum?”

  “She’s in surgery,” Ben said. “The next twenty-four hours will be crucial. She had a significant head trauma.”

  “Can I play on your bed, Mummy?” Mia said.

  “Of course,” Essie said, and Mia leapt onto the bed, immediately reaching for the control to make it go up and down. Isabelle went over and helped her operate it.

  “I spoke to the doctor in the hallway, and he’s coming in to see you,” Ben said. “He’s going to start working on your release papers. Then we can all go home.”

  Essie nodded at him. It should have been a reassuring thought. She wasn’t crazy. Her daughter was fine. She was able to go home with her family. But as she packed up her things, getting ready for release, all she could think was: We’re not all going home. Mum’s not going anywhere.

  61

  FRAN

  Nigel had got the first plane out of Brisbane. He got a cab right from the airport and arrived in the hospital, as the sky was just getting dark. When he got to Ava’s room, Rosie asleep on Fran’s lap and Ava was in a hospital crib.

  Nigel walked directly over to Ava. “How is she?”

  “She has heatstroke,” Fran said. “She was dehydrated. They’re giving her IV fluids and they said she’s doing better.”

  He picked up her chart and looked at it. Fran wondered if he actually understood the stuff that was written there, or if he was just doing it to feel more in control. Even if it was the latter, she wasn’t judging. There was no worse feeling, Fran had come to realize, than not being in control when it came to your child.

  “How did this happen?” he asked.

  “I have no idea. She seemed fine … and then all at once…”

  Nigel put a hand on her shoulder. “Babies can go downhill fast.”

  “I should have had the air-conditioning on. I should have been keeping a closer eye on her—”

  “It’s not your fault, Fran.”

  But she wasn’t so sure. If she hadn’t had an affair, Nigel wouldn’t have gone away. She wouldn’t have been distracted. She would
have spent more time ensuring her baby had adequate fluids.

  Fran started to cry. Nigel dropped into the seat beside her.

  “Thank you for coming.” She was sobbing. “Honestly, I don’t know what I would have done—”

  “Shh. It’s all right.”

  A hospital staff member shuffled in. She checked the IV fluid and took her temperature. Fran deduced that she was a nurse. “Her temperature has come down a bit; that’s good. And we’ve got a lot of fluids into her.”

  “Will she be okay?” Fran asked.

  “Heatstroke is always serious in such a young baby.” She opened Ava’s diaper and glanced inside (checking her urine output, someone had explained earlier). “But she’s doing all the things we like to see, which is very encouraging.”

  Fran wondered if they taught medical staff how to reassure people while not answering a direct question. Fran understood why they did it, but as a lawyer, it irritated her. As a mother, it infuriated her. The staff member must have seen her frustration because she added: “The doctor will be in to tell you more in a minute.”

  And she left the room. Fran felt Nigel’s arm go around her and she rested her head on his comforting shoulder. “I’m sorry,” she said. “I’m so, so sorry.”

  “I told you, it wasn’t your f—”

  “I’m sorry for being unfaithful. I’m sorry I didn’t support you better through your depression.”

  “You did support me.”

  “I should have done more. I should have worked harder.”

  Rosie jolted in Fran’s lap. They both looked down at her, but she just snuggled against Fran’s tummy and closed her eyes again.

  “I got a call from your mother,” Nigel said, “to apologize for everything you’d put me through.”

  Fran’s gaze bounced up to Nigel’s. “You did not.”

  “She said she was deeply disappointed in you. She said she didn’t raise a daughter who had affairs or illegitimate children. But she urged me to stay with you. She said that—”