She went back and checked the power point below the end of the bench which they used as a charging station – beneath the bowl from which she’d just extracted her keys. It was an orderly household. They didn’t misplace things. Well, not for long. It would turn up. She was a little all over the place at the moment.
Perhaps silence is what I need, anyway, Erica thought, leaving the house with her phone and keys. Yes, she could plug her headphones in and listen to the radio via her phone, as the girls were always urging. But perhaps today was a day to not be distracted, to use the time to formulate a plan.
Having just shut the gate behind her, Erica whirled around – she’d seen something out of the corner of her eye.
Shit! What was that? She looked up and down the street. Fear added itself to a creeping sensation of being watched. Nothing. She tried to laugh it off. Given how tightly wound she was it was hardly surprising she was starting to jump at her own shadow, or not even her own shadow.
Erica was about to cross the road when her phone buzzed and lit up with a series of text messages and notifications. She quickly sifted through them until she got to Steph’s message:
Oh my god. I’ve just heard the news. Are you okay? Call me. Xx
Again Erica frowned. The news? Was there more news than her losing her job? And, hang on, how would Steph know about that anyway? She hadn’t told her. Anxiety attached itself to her insides. Shit, have I missed a message from the girls? She frantically scrolled through everything again. And then she saw Renee’s message:
So sorry to hear about JPW’s troubles. I hope you’re okay. Here if you need me. Sending hugs. Xx
Erica continued scrolling and found a message from Michelle:
Bummer about JPW. Hope you’re okay. Call if you need a friend. Xx
Okay. So, it’s just the collapse of JPW, right? She ignored the messages and accompanying twinge of guilt for not having told her friends first, pulled up Google and put in the company’s name and pressed return. Instantly her screen was filled with a heap of headlines talking about the collapse of Jill and Perry’s empire. Erica’s heart went out to them. Bad enough to lose all you’ve worked hard for without having to then put on a brave face for the media and answer questions. And if they didn’t, they’d be branded with all manner of negative slurs.
At that moment Erica thought she’d dodged a bullet in not starting her own business all those years ago. See, Stuart, she would have said if he’d been there beside her.
But maybe if he’d been there – with his business acumen they’d have succeeded.
Yeah, like the really excellent financial situation you’ve left me in. She almost snorted aloud.
And as always the remorse began to stab. He’d done his best. Probably his pride had just got in the way. And remember his confidence and assurance – exactly the things you loved most about him?
Come on, enough going around in circles, Erica. What’s done is done. Now to deal with it, she told herself, checking for traffic and stepping off the kerb. She’d reply to the messages later when her head was clearer.
It was the swirling, circular nature of grief that Erica thought was the worst thing about it. One step forwards and two steps back was what some who wrote about it said. But for her it was a circular movement rather than linear. She hadn’t quite figured out if the circles she was moving in were moving forwards or not. Though she was out of the house and walking, operating like a relatively normal human being and not a blubbering blob on the footpath, so she must be making progress of some sort.
As she walked, no matter how many times Erica told herself to focus and decide if she should tell Issy and Mackenzie she’d lost her job and how to tell them – phone or text – she just couldn’t get her brain to cooperate. And before she realised it, she’d done a full lap of her forty-minute circuit and was back at her gate.
She’d just put the kettle on when her phone began to ring – it was right on the dot of eight a.m. Her routine was well-known by her friends – and tended not to change whether she was going to work or had a day off.
‘Hi, Steph. Sorry I haven’t replied to your message yet.’
‘God, don’t worry about that. I just need to know you’re okay. I’m so sorry to hear about your job. I’m assuming you’ve lost it. Right?’
‘Yup.’
‘Shit.’
‘That about sums it up. I’m okay. Well, right at this moment I am. I’ve just come in from my walk.’
‘That’s good. I half expected you to be taking a day underneath the doona, which would be perfectly understandable. It’s okay not to be okay, you know.’
‘Thanks. Trust me, I did think about wallowing. But it won’t help. I’ve got to update my CV for the last eight years and then start looking for a job.’
‘Well, you can take one day off, can’t you?’
‘Maybe. Why?’ Erica asked, the tone in Steph’s voice catching up with her.
‘Come out for lunch. I’ll get the girls together. We haven’t caught up properly for ages.’
‘It’s only been a couple of weeks, hasn’t it?’ Erica wondered if more time had passed since Mackenzie and Issy had left than she’d realised. It felt like they’d been gone for months.
‘At the airport doesn’t count. That was different.’
‘Um. Actually, catching up would be good,’ Erica said as she decided this expense was worth it and came under the self-care label. A decent meal would be good. And her friends’ company was great and fortifying. She always felt so much stronger after time spent with them. And having something to do – even just to focus on getting ready for – was always a big help.
‘And, before you get worried about the dollars, it’s my treat,’ Steph said.
‘That’s not necessary,’ Erica said out of habit. ‘I don’t care how you feel about it; it’s not up for discussion. Anyway, I have a favour to ask you.’
‘Oh?’
‘Nothing huge. I’ll tell you about it when I see you.’
‘Er. Okay.’ Erica smiled and her chest expanded towards the phone. God how she loved Steph and her forthrightness. Sometimes her bossiness was a little hard to take and her words could wound. Right now, it was the best thing she could have said and her amount of push and kindness was spot on. ‘I love you, Steph,’ she said.
‘I love you too. Now, go get yourself ready. I’ll pick you up at eleven. I’m thinking that place on Kensington Road so we’ll have to get in early to get a decent table.’
‘Okay. Great.’
‘I’ll leave you to it. I need to see if any of the others are available.’
After she’d hung up, Erica looked around the kitchen for inspiration for what to do for a couple of hours instead of looking for possible jobs. That could wait a few hours. There was every likelihood once she started that she’d disappear down and in and out of rabbit holes disguised as websites, and she didn’t want to run late for Steph. Her gaze landed on the silent clock with its still hands. She sighed and went and got out the step ladder and set it up.
God, I hate heights, she thought as she tightly gripped the handles and carefully climbed the three steps. She held the dusty clock to her chest with one hand as she stepped back down, taking care to steady herself with her other hand. Back on the floor she allowed herself to acknowledge her triumph before dusting off the clock on the bench.
She went to Stuart’s drawer – the bottom drawer at the far left of the bench, where all sorts of useful and less useful bits and pieces landed, and where he had kept a collection of batteries. As she rummaged, she thought she should clean it out – that was a good job to busy herself with for an hour. She couldn’t remember when anyone had emptied it last. Things got tossed in regularly and closing it was always a careful art of pushing down the edge of something – end of a shoelace, corner of a takeaway menu, random scrap of rubber et cetera – in order to get the thing shut. Erica was surprised at how quickly the already-open packet of double-A batteries surfaced and took
one out, grateful for the plentiful supply.
Erica prised the lid off the battery compartment at the back of the clock and then stared, confused, at the open compartment. Who hadn’t replaced the battery? And when? How long had it been before she’d noticed the clock had stopped? It must have happened before the girls left because she definitely hadn’t put it back up empty. And neither would the girls have. They knew the meaning and importance of the clock. Oh dear. Had it actually been stopped for months – before even Stuart’s death? Before he’d got more batteries? It bothered Erica to not have the answer. But she eventually shook it aside, pushed a new battery into place, adjusted the time to match her watch, and then carefully climbed back up and returned it to its hook.
What does it matter in the scheme of things? Let it go, she thought, closing the step stool and propping it back up inside the pantry.
***
Ready early, Erica sat and read a heap of reports about Jill and Perry White and JPW Cosmetics on her phone while she waited. She tapped out a text to send them and then saved it as a draft instead. She wanted to say just the right thing and that took time. And maybe it was best to wait. Or not do it at all. Erica would never forget how much it had meant to her to receive messages well after the funeral when most people had forgotten about her loss. Of course, Jill and Perry would have good friends like she did, but still … And she really respected their vision, which had come from their hearts. They hadn’t just been wanting to conquer the world and make squillions; they wanted to change lives, particularly women’s lives, for the better.
Erica did a quick inventory – keys, phone, handbag, wallet – as she heard a friendly toot toot of a car horn outside, which she knew must be Steph signalling she was there to collect her. She paused at the hooks in the hall to put on her current favourite green scarf. But it wasn’t there. She was sure she’d hung it up after work, as usual. But, that’s right: she’d come in in a daze. It must be back in the bedroom. Oh well. She hoped she’d be warm enough without it; she didn’t dare keep Steph waiting.
Chapter Thirteen
‘Are you okay? Really?’ Steph said as soon as Erica was in the car, and doing nothing to hide the fact she was scrutinising her.
‘I’m fine,’ Erica said, mustering everything she had to appear upbeat or not as dejected as she really felt. The growing collection of missing items and other weirdness – not the individual items and happenings themselves, but the possibility that she was suddenly either becoming untidy or mad, or both – bothered her as an extra layer of worry over the top of the big problem of her job and larger issue of her finances and underneath all that her simmering sadness.
‘Good to hear,’ Steph said, patting Erica on the leg.
As she settled back into the plush leather, Erica thought about how nice it was to be driven instead of having to navigate the traffic in her frayed state.
‘Is there anything you need to do while we’re out?’ Steph asked as she checked her mirrors and then pulled away from the kerb. Erica wondered about the favour Steph wanted to ask, given how extra-accommodating she was being.
‘No, it’s all good. It’s not like I’m short of time now,’ she said, shooting Steph a wry smile.
‘No. That is true,’ Steph said, matching Erica’s sardonic tone and smile.
Erica was amazed Steph was able to get them all together for lunch at such short notice. But then also not. Erica hadn’t ever tried. Yes, Renee worked rotating shifts like Erica had but Steph and Michelle often had Fridays off – usually taken as time in lieu after having worked a stint of extraordinarily long hours. So it wouldn’t be that hard to arrange. But they were such different people and their energy suited different times and moods; if she were being honest, Erica did prefer catching up with each of them one-on-one. She’d also never thought of herself as an introvert before – she was pretty chatty and sociable, certainly not one to stand alone in the corner at a party. But what she’d read recently – what had popped up in her Facebook feed about the classification of introversion being more about how a person recharged their energy, with others or alone – seemed to put her into the introvert camp. She’d always had times when she craved closing the door of the house behind her and not speaking to another person or having any interaction beyond scrolling through her Facebook feed. Sometimes it took her both her days off to be ready to face the bustle of work again. No matter how many times she vowed to do better to instigate meetings with friends, and despite how much she treasured each of them and her friendship with them, it was sometimes a struggle.
Not apparently for Steph, who regularly looked aghast at Erica when she said she’d spent a day doing nothing – she regularly declared she couldn’t stand her own company. Steph didn’t sit still, couldn’t, apparently, even when at home. Erica had experienced that a bit recently in her attempts to outrun her grief, but it wasn’t her normal mode.
Steph’s now ex-husband, Richard, had been a quiet contemplative thoughtful fellow, the epitome of opposites attracting. They’d hoped to balance each other out, but their personalities had been a little too different to meet over the gap. Erica had been really sad for Richard because he’d clearly adored Steph. She’d loved him too, but had never stopped still long enough to cast her adoring beam over him, or at least not for anyone else to see.
Thankfully they’d managed to stay friends and Erica hadn’t had to completely cut Richard out of her life, which was what happened when relationships between two friends ended and you invariably had to choose a side. Sometimes the choice wasn’t entirely yours. Steph, as her cousin, would always have to come first if it came down to it. Thankfully Richard had now met his soulmate – an accountant – who Steph secretly and sometimes not quite so secretly rolled her eyes at and declared boring as dishwater. Erica quietly suspected jealousy on Steph’s part – not about Richard, but about his having settled down again. Though Steph was the first to point out that she’d learnt her lesson: she needed to keep life exciting and marriage and shacking up were not for her. Erica thought she protested that line a little too loudly. Same with Steph’s declarations that she was glad she hadn’t had kids. Luckily Richard and his new wife, Tessa, had, because Erica had seen how smitten he’d been with her girls as babies and how well they responded to him.
‘Hey, before we get there, can I ask you that favour?’ Steph suddenly asked, turning to Erica while they were stopped at a set of traffic lights.
‘Sure. What’s up?’ Erica tried not to tense. She wasn’t sure she had it in her to take on anything, regardless of how small it might be.
‘Would you look after Boris for me from tomorrow for a couple of days? I need to go to a conference. It’s no biggie if you don’t want to, but I thought you might like the company too, with the girls gone. And especially now you’ll be home. He can go into boarding, but he doesn’t exactly love it there.’
‘Oh. Okay. Um …’ Erica knew she couldn’t refuse. Not after all Steph had done for her. And for her and Stuart over the years. But she didn’t know anything about looking after cats. Any pets for that matter. She’d never had one. ‘Does he come with instructions?’ Oops, I didn’t mean to say that out loud, and only realised she had when Steph began to laugh.
‘Sure he comes with instructions, Erica,’ she said when she’d stopped spluttering. ‘Not that they’ll do you any good. Cats aren’t like dogs. They ignore you. Want to be adored and obeyed? Get a dog. Happy to be treated with disdain? Get a cat.’
‘You’re not selling the concept very well, you know.’
‘You know Boris – he’s gorgeous.’
‘He stuck his claws into me and hissed last time I tried to pat him.’ Erica remembered how startled she’d been and how quickly she’d moved her hand. For such a small animal, Boris – though the orange cat was on the larger size for a domestic feline, apparently – sure did pack a punch. Disconcertingly so. At least dogs – well, the ones Erica had met out and about in the park while walking – growled and barked
to warn of their disapproval. Boris had been looking at her as she’d approached and seemed perfectly fine. No twitching tail, no annoyed expression – were cats capable of adjusting their expressions? – and then whoomph. His paw had come out at her like a bolt of lightning along with a strange rumbling thunder, and then retreated, and a mere moment later he was still and silent again. It had happened so quickly Erica might have momentarily thought she’d imagined it if not for the hammering her heart was doing behind her ribs.
‘That was ages ago, Erica. He’s not very active these days, so it’s just a matter of feeding him and cleaning his litter tray. I’m sure you’ll enjoy the company.’
‘Sure.’
‘I wouldn’t ask if I didn’t think it would be perfectly fine, Erica. He’s my most prized possession, remember. If anyone should be worried it’s me. But I trust you.’
Erica had the sense these were famous last words descending on her like a storm rolling in.
‘No pressure, then,’ she said brightly. And then, ‘It’s fine, really. No worries at all.’
‘Might turn you into a cat lady. You wait and see. Once you’ve enjoyed their company, there’s no going back.’
‘Yeah. We’ll see.’
‘Seriously, though, Erica,’ Steph said, a few minutes later when they’d parked the car and were getting out, ‘let me know if you’re not up for it. It’s not compulsory. He can go into boarding; I just didn’t want him to if there was an alternative. Everyone else who can take him is going to be at the same conference. But don’t feel you have to.’
Erica smiled to herself. Steph was the queen of reverse psychology and talking people into things without appearing to – it’s why her marketing campaigns were so successful and she was regularly rewarded bonuses. Thankfully Steph used her powers of manipulation for good. Mostly.
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