Keep Your Friends Close

by Janelle Harris

  I feel like a deer in headlights. I hate that I’m so stunned and have no words.

  Gillian’s face pinches. ‘Luke spoke to you about this, didn’t he?’

  I shove some cake into my mouth as frustration boils my blood.

  ‘Not yet,’ I say, my mouth half full. ‘I guess it must have slipped his mind.’

  ‘Hmm,’ Gillian says, unconvinced. ‘He’s worried about you. I can completely understand. I know his reservations are because his focus is on you and the baby right now. As they should be. But it’s only for a couple of weeks in the States. Three weeks max. He’d be home before the baby is born, obviously.’

  I nod, processing, and I hope my face doesn’t appear as blank as my mind feels.

  ‘Look, I’ve caught you off guard. I can see that,’ Gillian says, stroking two fingers across her forehead as if she’s appeasing a headache. ‘And the last thing I want is to cause any upset for you. Or for Luke. Why don’t you two have a little chat this evening? And I’ll chase up this damn paperwork. Just send me a text when you’ve made your decision.’

  ‘Yeah. Yes, of course.’ I puff out, short of breath. The baby has decided that now is a good time to lean on my lungs.

  ‘You’re an amazing businesswoman, Darcy. And I can see you want this to work as much as I do. I know I can count on you to make the right decisions, can’t I?’

  Gillian’s request is both inconsiderate and unnecessary. But I’ve played enough hardball in my time to know her threat is far from subtle. Either Luke goes to Ohio or we can kiss her money goodbye. Luke’s presence in a stateside office will make no difference to growing our brand. We’ve been dipping our toe in international waters for a while now and I’ve learned it will all boil down to the right packaging and a colossal marketing budget. Gillian is that budget and I’m not about to piss her off. I’ll have plenty of time to be assertive when the funds are secure.

  Gillian smiles at me, warning me to get this sorted, and I smile back with a growing distaste for her which I hope I’m hiding.

  She clears my empty plate from the table to the sink and the gesture feels less considerate and more dominating.

  ‘Don’t worry about that,’ I say, glancing at her plate and the slice of cake she hasn’t touched. ‘I’ll clean up later.’

  Gillian moves her plate to the sink anyway. She closes the cake box and pats the lid saying, ‘I’ll leave this here for you. I’m so glad you enjoyed it.’

  ‘Thank you,’ I say.

  I walk Gillian to the door and it takes all my self-control not to slam it behind her. I wait until she walks out of view before I close it and race to the downstairs bathroom to throw my guts up.

  Christ, I hate carrot cake.

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  GILLIAN

  Wednesday 10 July 2019

  It’s harder than usual to get out of bed this morning. I’ve picked my phone up, glanced at the screen with no notifications, and put my phone back down countless times. I thought I’d have heard from Darcy by now. She seemed so confident she could sway Luke’s decision. I fully expected a confirmation text or call shortly after he got in from work, but there hasn’t been a peep from her.

  There’s a knock on the door just as I’m about to get into the shower and I roll my eyes at the terrible timing.

  ‘Just a minute,’ I shout, hoping my voice will carry far enough.

  Another knock sounds louder than the first and the light front door rattles on its hinges.

  I slip on my dressing gown and push my feet into slippers.

  There’s more knocking and I can hear a deep male voice outside.

  ‘She’s not here,’ he says.

  ‘Give it a minute,’ a female voice quickly retorts.

  I recognise his voice first. Luke has never lost his English twang.

  ‘I told you we should have called first,’ Luke says.

  ‘Knock again,’ Darcy insists. ‘One last try.’

  Luke does as his wife asks and there’s another loud pounding on the door. I hurry into the hall. I’m reaching for the door handle when I realise both bedroom doors are wide open behind me. I double back to shut them both quickly.

  Finally, I open the front door and unsurprisingly find Darcy and Luke outside. Luke is wearing a smart, tailored navy suit with a crisp blue shirt and a white-and-navy pinstripe tie. His brown shoes are polished to perfection. He oozes charisma. And after all these years my heart still flutters like a silly schoolgirl’s when his eyes meet mine. Darcy is draped on his arm – a flawless accessory completing his look. Her long, floral dress is colourful and I can only imagine it swishes when she walks. Weeks away from giving birth, she’s more stunning than any average woman on an average day. Nearly twenty years may have passed but Darcy and Luke are still the same beautiful couple they were in school. The type you expect to see on the covers of magazines and in movies.

  ‘I hope you don’t mind us stopping by unannounced,’ Darcy says, smiling as she strokes Luke’s arm up and down, and I can’t tell if it’s a subconscious endearment or a subtle reminder that Luke is hers.

  ‘Of course I don’t mind. We’re neighbours, aren’t we?’ I say, ignoring Darcy’s dig at me for not calling before I dropped by her place yesterday.

  I shift my eyes from Darcy’s wide smile and blisteringly white teeth and on to Luke. He’s holding a pretty box: pink-and-white candy stripes with some cream twine wrapped around to secure it.

  ‘You brought cake,’ I say, knowingly.

  Darcy’s smile widens even more.

  ‘It’s a Victoria sponge. I hope that’s okay,’ Darcy says.

  ‘She made it herself,’ Luke adds. ‘I keep telling her she needs to put the recipe in her next book. It’s delicious.’

  ‘I haven’t even had breakfast yet,’ I say, glancing towards the kitchen. ‘But what the heck, how can I turn down cake?’

  I turn my head over my shoulder and double-check that the bedroom doors have remained firmly closed behind me. Satisfied, I step to one side and say, ‘Come on in.’

  Darcy and Luke walk past me and I close the door behind us, as the fine hairs on the back of my neck twitch and warn me that this is not a good idea. They don’t belong in my space. Alarm bells are ringing in my head. Really, I know it’s tinnitus. I also know stress triggers it. As hard as I try to hide it, Darcy and Luke – together – intimidate me. I think about making up a reason they’ll need to leave. I look at my phone, about to spit some excuses about having to dash to work. Darcy will understand, surely. The words are literally forming in my mouth when I look at Luke who is staring me down with wide, confident eyes. His arm is around Darcy’s shoulders and he holds her close to him. The way he always has. And I remember. I remember exactly why I’m doing everything I’m doing. And I can’t stop now!

  ‘We won’t keep you long,’ Luke says, as he unwraps himself from his wife and walks towards the open kitchen area to place the cake box on the nearest countertop.

  I should probably offer them tea or coffee. But I don’t. ‘You’ll have to excuse my appearance,’ I say, hating how Darcy’s beauty makes me feel about myself.

  ‘This is a little unexpected, I know. Sorry,’ Darcy says. ‘You did say to text, but Luke really, really felt we needed to discuss this further. All three of us.’

  ‘Right,’ I say, as I smile at Luke.

  ‘I hope you don’t mind,’ Luke says, glancing over his shoulder at the couch in the compact living area, and I know he wants me to invite them to sit.

  I tilt my head towards the couch and exhale as I glide my arm through the air and say, ‘Please.’

  Darcy and Luke sit down. I stay standing.

  ‘So,’ I begin, keeping my tone welcoming and warm. ‘How can I help? Ask anything you need to.’

  Neither of them speaks and the only sound in the flat is the low hum of the fridge in the kitchen.

  ‘Guys, please. Don’t be shy. Let me set your worries at ease.’

  Darcy is smiling,
but Luke’s face is blank and hard to read. I have a headache. Luke Hogan hasn’t changed in twenty years, I decide.

  ‘The doctor wants Darcy to spend the remainder of the pregnancy in hospital, but I’ve promised to take care of her,’ Luke says, as he places his hand on Darcy’s knee and squeezes gently, but his eyes are locked on mine. ‘I promised to take care of her, you see. To take care of everything. But I can’t do that from Ohio.’

  ‘Oh gosh, I didn’t realise,’ I say, shaking my head. ‘I do hate that I’ve put you in this position, but the US office are adamant they want you present as all this kicks off. If we don’t give this a shot, I’m concerned our aims for expansion will go under.’

  ‘We do understand,’ Darcy says, her lip twitching nervously. ‘This has to happen, it’s just—’

  ‘The baby,’ I cut across her.

  Darcy nods and her eyes gloss over. ‘We’ve wanted this for years. Haven’t we, Luke?’

  ‘Yeah,’ Luke says, shaking his head and flicking his tongue against the roof of his mouth. ‘But—’

  ‘But not like this,’ Darcy interrupts, taking a deep breath, and her shoulders rise and fall dramatically. ‘I’ll just have to go into hospital.’

  ‘Oh honey,’ Luke says.

  ‘I’ve made my decision, Luke,’ Darcy says firmly. ‘We can call the doctor this afternoon and make all the arrangements.’

  Luke’s head is low, and his voice is too. ‘This isn’t what you want.’

  ‘It is,’ Darcy says, sliding her finger under his chin and tilting his head up until he has to look at her. ‘It’s our future.’

  ‘You know, maybe I could help,’ I say, and both their heads turn towards me as if they’ve almost forgotten I’m here. ‘I could stay with Darcy while you’re away, Luke.’

  Darcy’s eyes widen.

  ‘Oh,’ Luke says.

  ‘It’s no problem. It’s short term. Just a change of bed, really,’ I say.

  ‘Really? Would you? Could you?’ Luke seems lighter already.

  ‘Absolutely. I mean, I’ll have a few things to organise but it should be all fine. And it will give Darcy and me a chance to get to know each other even better. Won’t it?’ I say, turning towards her.

  Darcy is fidgeting as she says, ‘We couldn’t ask you to do that, Gillian.’

  ‘You’re not asking. I’m offering.’

  ‘What do you say?’ Luke asks, looking at Darcy with worried eyes. ‘It’s not really a good idea for you to be on your own right now, honey?’

  ‘Um . . .’ Darcy muses and I wish I could tell what she’s thinking. Although I’m confident I know what is in Luke’s head. This is perfect.

  ‘Darcy.’ Luke calls for his wife’s attention as she seems uncharacteristically lost. ‘Is this happening? Am I going to Ohio?’

  ‘Mm-hmm,’ Darcy says, but I don’t miss how forced her smile is as she slides closer to the edge of the couch, and I wonder if she’s as uncomfortable as she appears. ‘Go over there and impress the hell out of ’em.’

  Luke leans forward and kisses Darcy’s forehead. His tone is heavy with trepidation as he says, ‘I’ll do us proud.’

  ‘I know you will,’ Darcy says, standing up slowly with her hand supporting her lower back. ‘This will be good.’ And it’s obvious that it’s herself she’s trying to convince.

  I already know it will be good. It will be great.

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  GILLIAN

  Thursday 11 July 2019

  My fingertips are numb and my body trembles with cold. A gentle wind whips past me, pinching at my arms and legs. The ground is cool and damp beneath me and I can feel blades of long grass tickling my neck as they blow in a gentle breeze. I can’t tell if my eyes are open or closed. I rub them and finally pick some stars out from around dark, thick clouds. The moon is hidden and the night is eerie and silent. The realisation that I have no idea where I am dawns on me slowly.

  My dressing gown is twisted and uncomfortable. The belt is tangled too tightly around my chest, making deep breaths difficult, and the collar is trying to choke me. I stumble to my feet, shivering as the damp from the grass clings to the fluffy material of my dressing gown. I gasp when I find myself in a misshapen circle of paper and scrapbooks. It’s too dark to read the words on the pages. But I know what they say. I know they’re newspaper articles. And I know they’re about some gruesome murder of a missing person. They always are.

  Clouds part and moonlight dances across the grass, illuminating everything in shades of shimmering silver. The hedge. The patio. The back of the house. I’m in the back garden, I realise. A sense of relief washes over me that I haven’t woken up miles from home in a random field just like before. But worry quickly follows. What if someone sees me? They’ll think I’m mad. I bend and gather up the scrapbook and papers as quickly as I can. There’s more than an armful. My haste affects my coordination and I’m dropping clippings almost as quickly as I’m gathering them up.

  A light flicks on in an upstairs bedroom, casting a yellowish square on to the grass. I hurry more, constantly switching my gaze from the papers to the window and back again. I pick up the last page and jump out of the light just as the curtain twitches and the window opens.

  ‘Oi, who’s out there?’ Eddie says, his voice groggy and laced with sleep.

  I stand like a statue and wait, my heart beating furiously against my chest.

  ‘Don’t make me come out there,’ Eddie says, sounding more assertive and more alert.

  An owl hoots and flies overhead, startling me. I drop a couple of papers and the wind catches them and blows them right across the garden.

  ‘Right. That’s it,’ Eddie bellows, furious now. ‘I’m coming down. You better start running.’

  The moment the window closes I dash across the garden, grab the paper and sprint towards the patio door of my flat. Being able to access my flat from the back of the house is one of the few things I like about a ground-floor apartment. I’m fumbling with the key when I hear racing footsteps crunch across the stony driveway. I expect Eddie to turn the corner at the side of the house and appear in the garden at any second.

  ‘Whoever you are, you’re going to be sorry you tried to break into my house. Do you hear me?’ Eddie’s voice is loud and threatening as he veers closer.

  ‘Be careful, Eddie.’ Kimberly’s distinctive accent follows. ‘Oh my God. Be careful.’

  ‘I’m not the one who needs to be careful,’ Eddie is shouting, but there’s a contradictory wobble in his tone.

  The door unlocks and I slide it back just as I hear Kimberly say, ‘Gillian. Gillian, is that you?’

  I freeze.

  Kimberly is edging closer to me, unsure, in the darkness. I tumble the articles and scrapbooks out of my arms and on to the floor just inside the open door. I kick them further back with my foot and close the door as quickly as I can before Kimberly reaches me.

  I turn around and step forward as if I’ve just come outside rather than trying desperately to get inside. I rub my eyes and sleepily I ask, ‘What’s going on?’

  ‘Didn’t you hear?’ Kimberly asks, as Eddie scours the garden with a raised golf club.

  I shake my head.

  Kimberly seems confused. ‘All the shouting, didn’t you hear?’

  ‘Shouting out here?’ I point to where Eddie is poking the hedge with his putter.

  Kimberly nods enthusiastically and she seems less nervous now. ‘It was crazy. We didn’t know what it was at first. We thought it might have been cats fighting or something. The noises were so strange. But then we could make out voices. Eddie thinks it was two women arguing.’

  ‘What?’ I shake my head. ‘What would two women be doing in our garden in the middle of the night?’

  ‘That’s what I said,’ Kimberly says. ‘I thought it might be the neighbours.’

  ‘Well that explains it, then,’ I say. ‘We should all go back to bed.’

  ‘No. No. Eddie said the voices were too close
. They had to be in the garden. We should get to the bottom of this. You know, in case they come back.’

  ‘Okay, well, I’m going to leave you to it,’ I say, hoping they’ll tire themselves out and give up soon.

  ‘Eddie thinks we should call the guards,’ Kimberly says, reaching into her pocket for her phone.

  ‘No. God. No. Don’t do that!’ My voice comes out much squeakier and higher pitched than I mean it to.

  ‘Gillian, are you okay?’ Kimberly asks.

  ‘Look, this is actually really embarrassing but . . .’ I pause as if the next words are difficult to find or even harder to say. ‘It was me. I was shouting.’

  ‘Oh,’ Kimberly says, and I can tell I’ve made her uncomfortable.

  ‘So, there’s no need to call the cops,’ I say.

  ‘No. No, of course not.’

  ‘And I’m sorry,’ I add. ‘I didn’t mean to wake you.’

  ‘Are you okay?’ Kimberly asks, softly and genuinely concerned, and I know I’m not getting out of this without an explanation.

  ‘It was a heated work call,’ I lie, beginning to twitch. ‘I stepped outside to get better reception. I honestly didn’t realise I was being too loud.’

  Kimberly tilts her head slightly. ‘A work call in the middle of the night?’

  ‘It’s business hours internationally,’ I say.

  ‘Oh yes. Of course,’ Kimberly says, noticeably relaxing. ‘Do you often have to take late-night calls?’

  ‘Don’t worry,’ I say, throwing in a girly giggle. ‘I promise I’ll be quieter next time. I really am so sorry for waking you.’

  ‘No, it’s not that. I just mean it must be exhausting having to deal with work stuff when you should be sleeping. No wonder you were frustrated.’

  I take a deep breath. Kimberly is kind and caring. And in another set of circumstances I think we could be friends. I muse for a moment about how lovely that would be. About how we could go for coffee and walks and enjoy girls’ nights out in fancy cocktail bars.

  ‘Right! There’s no one here,’ Eddie says as he crosses the garden with the golf club by his side now. ‘Whoever it was is long gone. Cheeky bastards. I’d say it was a drunken row. We’ll probably get more of that sort of thing now that the pub down the road has reopened after refurbishment.’