Taking the Plunge

by J. B. Reynolds

  “How do you go from being married to splitting up and then meeting someone else and telling them you love them, all within a couple of months?”

  Tracy snorted. “Ever heard of affairs? Happens all the time. A lot of men would give their right arm for a woman like Kate to tell them she loved them.”

  “Yeah, well, not me. Too much, too soon.”

  Tracy gathered her snowboard, punching it with a soggy glove to dislodge the clumps of snow that were stuck to the bindings. “Anyway, it doesn’t matter now. She’s gettin’ back together with Lawrence. I’m blamin’ you for that.”

  Evan stiffened. “Wait — what? When did she say that?”

  “Thursday. Stupid woman.” Tracy pursed her lips and puffed one cheek out. “It’ll end in disaster.”

  “Really?” he said, frowning. “That’s weird.” If Kate was getting back with Lawrence, then who was the woman in white?

  “What’s weird?”

  “Nothing.” It was none of his business, and he had enough to worry about with Yumi. He pushed the sleeve up on his jacket, checking his watch. “Sorry, but I need to get going. Don’t worry about paying for the lesson — I’ll comp it. You deserve it for all your hard work.” Forcing a smile, he took a step forward, but Tracy grabbed his arm, stopping him.

  “Thanks, but you’re not gettin’ off that easy. What’s weird? What do you know?”

  “Nothing,” he repeated, tugging his arm. “Hey, come on — let go, will you?”

  “No,” said Tracy, squeezing harder, her feet planted, brow furrowed. “Not till you tell me what’s goin’ on.”

  She might look as if she’d blow away in a stiff breeze but Tracy’s grip was strong, her fingers pinching his skin through the padded folds of his jacket. He stared at her and she stared back, unwavering. She wasn’t going to let him leave without an answer.

  Sighing, he said, “I saw him — Lawrence — an hour or so ago while I was eating lunch. He was kissing a woman and it wasn’t Kate.”

  “Eh? He’s here?”

  “Yeah.”

  “You sure it was him?”

  He nodded. “Yep.”

  “No shit! What an arsehole.” She let his arm go. “What did she look like?”

  Evan shrugged. “I dunno… brown hair, attractive, expensive smile. Younger than him too, that’s for sure.”

  “I’ll bet it’s her. Rachel. Have you told Kate?”

  “No!” he said, eyes springing wide. “Why would I? It’s nothing to do with me.”

  “Are you mad? Of course it does.” She shook her head. “Men. Why are you all so fuckin' useless? Got your phone on you? You need to call her right now.”

  “I’m not calling her.” He began walking away.

  Tracy didn’t stop him this time, but fell into step behind him.

  “Why not? Don’t you care?”

  “Yeah, I care, but I’m the last person she’ll want to hear from.”

  “Trust me, she’s gonna want to hear about this. Where’s your phone?”

  “I left it in the staffroom.”

  “All right then, let’s go get it.”

  “Don’t you have a phone?” he asked, kicking a divot of snow from the toe of his boot. “Can’t you call her?”

  “Davy’s got it. I didn’t trust myself not to break it.”

  “That was wise.”

  “I’ll break something of yours if you don’t call Kate.”

  He stopped, scrunching up his face and rubbing the back of his neck. Tracy was glaring at him, one corner of her mouth curled into a twisted smile. He wondered how Davy managed to put up with her. “Okay, okay!” he said, sighing. “We can get my phone.”

  He led her around the back of the building complex to a door with a sign saying Staff Only. Propping his snowboard against the wall, he stamped the snow off his boots on a metal grate outside the door. “Wait here.” Pushing the door open, he disappeared inside, returning a moment later with his cellphone. Handing it to Tracy, he said, “Here. You call her.”

  “I thought you were going to.”

  “I’ve forgotten her number.”

  Tracy cocked her head at him, eyebrows raised, but removed her gloves and stuffed them in the pockets of her oversized jacket. She dialled Kate’s number, then held the phone to her ear. “Hi Kate, it’s Tracy. I’m with Evan. He’s got something he wants to tell you.” Smirking, she handed the phone to him.

  He rolled his eyes, but took it.

  “Ahh, hi, Kate,” he said nervously. “It’s Evan here.”

  “Evan? What’s going on? You’re with Tracy?”

  The sound of her voice sent a twinge of guilt running through him and he paused to take a breath before continuing. “I bumped into her at work. I’ve just given her a snowboarding lesson.”

  “Oh, that’s nice.”

  “Yeah, but that’s not what I’m calling about. Listen… I know you probably don’t want to talk to me right now, but Tracy tells me you’re getting back together with Lawrence.”

  “Oh, Evan, don’t do this to me,” Kate groaned. “You had your chance—”

  “No, no, you don’t understand. I saw him today.”

  “Who?”

  “Lawrence. He’s here, or was, skiing. And… well, he wasn’t alone. He was with another woman. I saw them kissing.”

  There was a click as the line went dead. Evan looked at Tracy.

  “What?”

  “She hung up.”

  THIRTY

  Kate sat on the edge of her bed, fingers clutching the bedsheets, unsure of what to do next. Her phone rang twice more, but she ignored it. Lawrence was with another woman. She didn’t want to believe it, but why would Evan lie? Did he want her back? If so, this was a cruel way of going about it. What about Tracy? Why were they together? What were they playing at?

  There was only one thing for it. She grabbed a muffin and a snack bar from the kitchen and stuffed them into her handbag, then found her coat and keys. Corbin was grizzly when she woke him from his nap to strap him into his car-seat, so she gave him the snack bar. He shoved it into his mouth, the grizzling replaced by chewing as she opened the garage door and drove off.

  Parking on the street outside the driveway to Lawrence’s house, she opened her window a crack and shut the engine off. Turning on the radio, she said to Corbin, “I’m sorry hun, but Mummy has to run an errand. Just wait here — I’ll be back in a minute.” She gave Corbin the muffin and got out of the car, slipping on her coat and buttoning it down.

  “Mummy?” Corbin asked through a mouthful of muffin.

  Leaning in the door, she said, “Don’t worry, I’ll be back soon.”

  She closed her door and stalked down the driveway, eyes watchful. Just don’t choke, she thought. Catching a glimpse of a green hatchback parked near the cottage she stopped, trying to think of anyone she knew who owned such a vehicle, but coming up empty. Approaching the house, she kept low, stepping carefully. There were no windows open, though at this time of year that didn’t mean it was unoccupied. She crept through the garden to where she had a view into the living area. Peering through the glass, she saw a black jacket hanging from a dining chair. A woman’s jacket.

  She slipped around the side of the house. There was no sign that anyone was home. Preoccupied, she didn’t notice the plastic tricycle lying on the garden path and tripped over it, knocking over a plant in a terracotta pot and crying out as she landed on her hands and knees in the gravel. She dusted herself off, then righted the plant. It had spilled soil onto the path and she grabbed a handful, returning it to the pot before spreading the rest out with her foot.

  Next to the heavy back door was a window. Pressing her face against the glass to look into the small laundry room, she felt the window give a little. Looking down, she noted that the old-fashioned stay wasn’t fastened properly. She tugged on the frame and the window swung outward, the stay hanging loose. She took a step back, frowning, then tried the door. It was firmly locked. So, the window then. I
t was a tight fit, but she could do it.

  She hadn’t planned on breaking in. But a strange car, a woman’s jacket — it wasn’t enough. Besides, if the window was open it wasn’t really breaking in, was it?

  Sucking in a breath, she pressed on the sill and brought her knees up to her hands. Awkwardly, grabbing the side of the casement for balance, she shifted to bring her foot through, planting it in the laundry tub below, then swivelled to bring her other foot around. An open box of laundry powder rested on top of the washing machine and her foot collected it as she completed her manoeuvre, knocking it to the floor where it disgorged its contents across the painted concrete. “Shit,” she hissed.

  But she was in now. There was no point turning back. It was feasible that a gust of wind could have knocked the box over, so she left the window open to make that outcome seem more likely. She leapt from the tub, careful not to land in the puddle of white powder, then crossed the laundry and poked her head into the living room. She tiptoed across the floor and up the stairs to the bedrooms, wincing as each step creaked with her passing. At the top of the stairs was a landing with two doors, both closed. She pushed open the one farthest from her.

  A woman’s nightdress lay draped on the bed — a pale shade of blue, shimmery and elegant. She moved into the room and opened the wardrobe. Hanging next to Lawrence’s shirts and trousers was a small selection of women’s clothing, with an open suitcase on the floor below, half empty, a black bra snaked suggestively over the clothes within. A bottle of perfume and a spray can of deodorant rested on a window ledge. On a bedside table was a small black jewellery case, and beside that a gift box and card with a watercolour picture of flowers on the front. She opened the card, reading the message inside.

  ‘My darling, you are the best woman a man could ever hope to know. All my love, Lawrence.’

  Her stomach churned and she collapsed on the bed, crumpling the nightdress. She reached for the jewellery case and opened it, revealing a set of delicate silver earrings, shaped like leaves. She removed one, inspecting it. The detailing was precise, the leaf curling and threaded with silver veins, so fine they were almost transparent. A single clear jewel was set in the pointed tip. Diamonds too, I’ll bet.

  An old wooden dresser stood beside the window, an oval mirror mounted on the wall above it. She stood in front of it, appraising her reflection. What does she have that I don’t? Fumbling, her fingers numb, she removed the rose-gold stud from her right ear, it too a present from Lawrence, and held the silver leaf up in its place. She was about to push the wire through her lobe when she heard a knock on the front door.

  “Yoohoo, is anyone there?” A woman’s voice, loud and high.

  She froze, her heart leaping in her chest. The woman knocked again. “Hellooo, Lawrence. Are you home?”

  The voice was vaguely familiar and she guessed it was Lawrence’s landlord, Edie MacDowell. Why was she here? Had she heard Kate calling out when she fell over?

  Swallowing, Kate considered her options. If she went downstairs, Edie would be sure to see her. If Edie came inside, she’d be trapped. She moved to the window, looking out. A section of roof projected from the side of the house below the window, overhanging the path beneath. It’s now or never.

  She snatched up her earring, dropping it in the pocket of her coat, then placed the silver leaf back in its case and snapped the lid shut. She slid the window open, climbed carefully onto the roof, then closed the window behind her. Inching down the shallow incline, she sat on the edge, hanging her legs over the guttering. Taking a quick breath, she launched herself, landing on the grass below, her knees bent to absorb the impact. She crouched for a moment, listening, and heard the crunch of gravel from the opposite side of the house. She froze, paralysed, her heart pounding, but the footsteps grew fainter. She crept through the garden, rounding the side of the house. Mustering her courage, she peeped out to see Edie walking back to her house down the driveway.

  She breathed a sigh of relief, waiting until Edie was out of sight before racing to her car, where she leapt inside, gunned the engine and took off, tyres squealing. Corbin was crying, but she didn’t stop until she’d driven a few blocks. She pulled over and turned to him, taking his hand and smiling. “There there, hun, it’s all right. Sorry I took so long.”

  “Mummy,” came Corbin’s tearful reply.

  She stroked his hand, waiting for his tears to abate and her heart to stop galloping. She spied his half-eaten muffin on the floor beneath his feet and picked it up, brushed it off and handed it back to him. He squealed and took a bite. Turning back to the road in front of her, she fastened her seatbelt and continued the drive home at a more sedate pace.

  In the kitchen she poured a glass of wine and threw it down her throat, pondering her next move. Who was the woman? She suspected it was Rachel, but she’d found nothing to confirm her suspicion. Could it be someone new, another pretty doll for Lawrence to hang off the end of his arm? She had to know!

  She made a sandwich and cut up an apple for Corbin, then placed him in his high-chair. Sitting down next to him, she poured another glass of wine. “Oh, Corbin, what am I going to do now?”

  “Don’t know, Mummy,” he replied.

  She smiled at him, ruffling his hair, then stood and grabbed the phone. Feeling flushed, she dialled Evan’s number.

  It rang a few times before he answered.

  “Hello?”

  “Hi, Evan, it’s Kate. I need to see you. Can we meet?” The words came spewing out, machine-gun fast.

  “Whoa, slow down. What’s going on? Where are you?”

  “I’m at home. I need to talk to you about what you saw today. About Lawrence.”

  “Why?”

  “I need to know who she is.”

  There was a pause before Evan replied, speaking slowly, “Well, actually… I might be able to help you there.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I’ve got a photo of her.”

  THIRTY-ONE

  Kate knocked on the door of Tracy’s house, Corbin perched on her hip. Davy answered, wearing black tracksuit pants and a grey hoodie, a bottle of beer clutched in one hand. His dark hair was wet and a thick stubble covered his jaw. He greeted them with a dimpled smile and ushered them in.

  She found Tracy sitting on the couch watching TV, Hayley by her side. Tracy cocked her head and gave a little frown when she saw them. “Hey, Kate. What’s up?”

  Kate lowered Corbin to the floor where he clung to her, burying his face between her legs.

  “Have a seat, Kate,” said Davy, slipping past. “We were just having a drink. It’s been a long day. Can I get you one?”

  Kate shook her head and remained standing.

  “You sure? Tracy’s having a wine.”

  “No, thanks. Actually, I’ve come to ask a favour.”

  Tracy raised her eyebrows. “Yeah?”

  “Yes. I was hoping you wouldn’t mind looking after Corbin for a while. I need to go to Queenstown.”

  “Why?” asked Tracy.

  “I’m meeting Evan.”

  “You are? What for?”

  “I want to talk to him about what he saw today.”

  “Can’t you do that over the phone? We did try to call you. Twice. Why’d you hang up anyway?”

  “I… I was shocked. I was trying to get my head around it.”

  Tracy snorted. “What’s to get your head around? I did tell you — once a cheater, always a cheater. I’d say you’ve dodged a bullet.”

  Kate narrowed her eyes at Tracy. She had expected a little more sympathy. “I need to know if it’s her.”

  “Who else is it going to be?”

  “He swore he’d broken up with her. I believed him.”

  “So what, you think he’s got another one on the go?”

  “I don’t know what to think,” said Kate, running her fingers through her hair. “Which is why I need to see Evan. He’s got a photo.”

  “A photo?”

  “Of La
wrence, and… her, whoever she is. From the photo booth.”

  Davy, who had taken a seat in an ancient armchair, gave a chuckle. “They took one of me and Tracy too, but she refused to smile.”

  “If your arse was as sore as mine you wouldn’t have smiled either,” said Tracy, glaring at him. To Kate, she said, “Why can’t you just ask Lawrence?”

  “Because I don’t trust him. He hasn’t answered my calls all week, and I guess now I know why.” She gave a tired sigh. “Maybe you don’t understand, but I really need to do this.”

  “Oh, I get it all right. You married a real piece of work. But why does it have to be now? Can’t it wait till tomorrow? Or can’t you find someone else?”

  “I’ve already arranged it, and as it was, Evan was reluctant to meet me. I’m afraid if I leave it till tomorrow… Look, Tracy, please… I don’t want to leave him with anyone else. You’re the only one who knows what’s happened. I’m churning up inside. I’m not going to get any sleep tonight if I don’t go.”

  “I don’t know.” Tracy screwed up her nose. “I’m impressed that you’ve managed to hook your claws into Evan again, but Davy and I’ve had a big day. Can’t you take Corbin with you? We were just plannin’ on havin’ a quiet dinner an’—”

  “It’s fine, Kate,” Davy interrupted. “Go. We’ll look after him.”

  Tracy gave him a sharp look. “We will?”

  Davy nodded. “Yep.”

  Frowning, Tracy turned back to Kate and said, “Looks like you’ve got what you want then. What time will you be back?”

  “As soon as I can, I promise. I’m sorry it’s such short notice, but I—”

  “It’s okay, really. We don’t mind,” said Davy, “or at least, I don’t mind. I’m sure you’d do the same for us if we were in a bind.”

  “Of course I would. Any time.” Kate bent and removed Corbin’s arms from her legs, then crouched in front of him, holding his hands. “Darling, Mummy’s going out for a while. You’re going to stay here.”