The Girl She Was

by Rebecca Freeborn

  Once again, Layla went back to Jodie’s profile and scrolled through the rest of the photos from Christmas Day. They’d obviously had a big family do: most of the photos were from the backyard Layla had never seen, and included a parade of at least twenty different people. Then two familiar figures leapt out at her from one of the photos and she gripped the phone more tightly. She’d known they were family, of course, but this reminder of the connection between what she’d done and what she’d lost was visceral, as if her skin was being sheared from her bones. She stared hard at one of the faces, once so familiar but now the face of a stranger.

  *

  Cam’s arms encircled her from behind as she buttered the kids’ toast. She inhaled his fresh shower scent.

  ‘I can’t stop thinking about this morning,’ he murmured in her ear. ‘I could get used to waking up like that.’

  She turned her head to kiss him. ‘One day we’re going to get sprung by one of them.’ She nodded at Louis and Ella, who sat up at the breakfast bar, fidgeting as they waited for their toast.

  ‘Then we might have to put a lock on the door.’

  She laughed, pushing the brightly coloured plastic plates across the bench to the children. ‘What are you going to do with them today?’

  ‘Dunno. Playground. Play cafe if it gets too hot. Coffee?’

  ‘Thanks.’

  Both Cam’s work and the children’s childcare centre shut down over the Christmas and new year period, but Layla still had to go to work.

  Her phone pinged on the bench in front of her and she reached for it as Cam turned towards the coffee machine.

  Does your husband know what you did, Layla?

  Layla clapped her hand over her mouth, clamping down on the fear that was trying to leap out. All this time she had been stalking Jodie, she’d never considered the possibility that Jodie might be doing her own research. But how had she known Layla was married? Layla kept her Facebook profile under lock and key; neither Cam nor the kids were in any of her profile photos, and she didn’t use any other kind of social media. A seed of panic lodged in her chest and began to radiate outwards, her breathing becoming shallow and fast. Did Jodie know where she lived? Was she watching her house, her husband, her children?

  Maybe it wasn’t too late to tell Cam about Scott, to make the first move before Jodie did. But even the idea of his disappointment was too painful. Early in their relationship he’d told her, his voice wobbling with emotion, how his father had walked out on his family when he was a child. An affair with his secretary – so clichéd, so seedy. They’d been doing it on his desk one night when Cam’s mother had walked in on them, holding a beef casserole in a Tupperware container for his dinner because he’d told her he was working late. ‘The casserole ended up on that bitch’s peroxided head,’ Cam had said, ‘and she deserved much worse after she ripped my family apart.’ Layla had flinched at his uncharacteristically harsh words, had felt them as keenly as if they’d been directed at her. And as she rubbed Cam’s back and kissed away his tears, she’d realised that he could never know the truth about her.

  What would he think if he knew what she had destroyed? How would his face change if she told him about what she’d done, the regrets that had haunted her for years, that she’d buried until Jodie had wrenched them from the earth?

  Cam turned to hand her a coffee mug, then frowned when he saw her face. He glanced down at the phone in her hand. ‘Are you OK?’

  She threw him a quick smile and put her phone in her pocket. ‘Just daydreaming. I’d better finish getting ready for work.’

  Louis got down from the stool and came around to the other side of the bench, holding up his arms for a hug. Layla crouched down so he could put his arms around her neck. ‘Can I kiss your eyes?’ he asked solemnly.

  She closed her eyelids obediently for him to land light kisses on. Louis was a whirlwind of energy, creating chaos everywhere he went, but when he was like this, the sweet perfection of him squeezed her heart. She hugged him tight. ‘Be good for Daddy today, OK?’

  *

  Cam brought the kids out the front to wave goodbye to her as she pulled out of the driveway. A wave of love swept over her, and she swallowed her fear. Whatever Jodie’s reason for contacting her now, she had to shut this down. She couldn’t risk losing everything that was important to her. As soon as she turned the corner, she pulled over, opened up the message again and tapped out a reply.

  What do you want from me?

  THEN

  It was really happening.

  It was intoxicating, carrying around this delicious secret, the memory of sitting astride him … The two days the cafe was closed seemed an age as I waited for my next shift on Tuesday. While I was apart from Scott, it was easy to forget my uncertainty and doubt, to remember only the way it had felt to be wanted, to yearn to do it again. I tried to study, but my mind kept wandering back to our last encounter, questioning where it was leading us.

  I wasn’t so innocent that I didn’t know he’d eventually want to have sex. For a moment, when I’d felt him hard beneath his jeans, for me, I’d wanted that too, and the realisation had been shocking. But the line we would cross if we did, not to mention losing my virginity when I’d only just kissed someone for the first time, filled me with anxiety. It couldn’t happen. And anyway, Scott had said he was happy just to kiss.

  By the time Tuesday came around, I was so tied up with anticipation that I felt like I was going to burst. As soon as the school bell rang, I ran down to the road below the school oval where I’d parked my car and jumped in. Renee waved at me from outside the school fence, but I pretended I didn’t see her and continued past the school, excitement building within me as I sped up Bay Road, past the park with the rotunda, and turned right onto the main street.

  ‘’Sup, bitch?’ Yumi said as I threw open the door and set the bell clanging. ‘You’re certainly in a hurry to get to work.’

  ‘Nice to see you too,’ I retorted. I threw a smile at Scott, who was standing behind the counter. ‘Hey, Scott.’

  ‘Hey, Layla.’

  I loved the way he smiled as he said my name, the way his tongue was visible as it flicked to the roof of his mouth with each syllable. A look passed between us, and I felt it must be obvious to the whole world. I looked away, flustered. ‘Just gonna get changed.’

  I went through the kitchen, greeting Dave on the way, and out to the staff bathroom. I was about to enter one of the cubicles when the door swung open again and Scott was there. My schoolbag thudded to the floor as he guided me into a cubicle, trapping us in the small space. He pushed me up against the wall and kissed me. I put my arms around his neck and closed my eyes, shivering as he tugged my shirt out from where it was tucked into my skirt and his hands found my bare skin.

  At last he pulled away from me, his eyes gleaming in the gloomy half-light.

  My mouth twitched into a smile. ‘Sir, I think you’ve got the wrong bathroom.’

  ‘Oh, no I don’t.’ He tugged at the hem of my checked woollen skirt. ‘I like this. Very sexy.’

  I pushed at his chest playfully. ‘I didn’t know you harboured schoolgirl fantasies.’

  His face fell. ‘Don’t say that. I’m not like that.’

  ‘Hey, sorry.’ I touched his chest again. ‘I was just kidding.’

  He smiled again, his hand moving slowly up my bare leg. ‘Anyway, you’re no girl. You’re a woman.’

  No one had ever called me a woman before. I liked the way it made me feel, and so when he walked two fingers up under my skirt, holding my gaze, I didn’t stop his hand. I sucked in a breath as he brushed his fingers across my underwear. Then there was a noise from outside the bathroom and he was gone. The door sighed closed, my hammering heart the only indication he’d been there at all.

  *

  I worked every night that week.

  When it was quiet, after Dave had gone home, Scott would close the cafe early and we’d end up in the kitchen. And every night his hands wan
dered a little further, his kisses became a little more demanding, until I’d break away, my heart juddering, and tell him I needed to go home and study. He always retreated as soon as I asked him to, but I couldn’t help wondering how much longer that would be enough for him. Every day I’d talk myself into giving him what he wanted, but then when it came to the moment, everything would start to feel out of control, and I’d lose my nerve and shut him down again.

  One night after he tried to take my shirt off and I stepped away, his normally easy smile was stretched and thin with desperation. ‘I’m not sure if I can do this anymore, Layla.’

  My stomach dropped. ‘Did I do something wrong?’

  He gave a rough laugh. ‘No, god, no. That’s just the problem. I want more of you all the time, and it’s so hard to hold back.’

  I’d known this would happen eventually, but it was still a sharp blow. I clasped my hands together in front of me to stop them from shaking. ‘I’m sorry. I know I’m not very good, but I’ve never done any of this before. I’m not ready for … that.’

  He cupped my face in his hands. His eyes were soft. ‘I don’t want to have sex with you, Layla. I just want to be close to you.’

  I nodded. ‘That’s what I want too.’

  ‘Jodie won’t even let me touch her anymore,’ he said. ‘All I think about is you, and there’s this … pressure inside me.’

  He looked wretched. And I had the power to help him. ‘What do you want me to do?’

  He fingered the top button of my shirt. ‘I just want to look at you. I won’t touch you, if you don’t want me to.’

  I hesitated. I could say no. I could walk out of here and get in my car and go home and pretend to focus on my textbooks. But I knew if I did that, all I’d be able to think about was whether I’d blown it by not giving him this one small thing. It wasn’t that much to ask. My friends had done far more than letting someone look at their breasts. I started to unbutton my shirt as Scott collapsed into a chair, his hand already moving down to his pants. He unzipped himself and I instinctively looked away.

  ‘It’s OK, Layla,’ he said, his voice husky. ‘You can watch.’

  I didn’t really want to, but I didn’t want him to think I was a prude either, so I dragged my gaze back to him. It looked different to what I’d expected; dark, angry, urgent. I slipped my shirt off my shoulders and Scott let out a low moan. He reached out his free hand to stroke one of my breasts, and I fought the urge to move away. This had already gone further than he’d promised. But his eyes were glazed over with desire as he stared at my breasts and my lacy black bra, and what would he think of me now if I pulled the pin and put my shirt back on?

  ‘Can you kiss me?’ he pleaded.

  He pulled me into his lap and fondled me harder, slipping his hand inside my bra before I had the chance to slow things down. I gasped as his thumb flicked over my nipple. All my instincts screamed at me to retreat, but his other hand was moving so fast that his whole lap juddered, and there was nothing I could do to stop this now. His mouth was open wide as he kissed me, like he was trying to swallow me whole. ‘Layla, you’re so beautiful. Can you help me?’

  Before I realised what was happening, he’d taken my hand and put it on his penis, then closed his own around it, pumping it up and down vigorously. It seemed like it would never end, but then he cried out and semen spurted out of him. Some landed on his jeans, but he didn’t seem to notice. He let out a long groan and rested his head against my shoulder.

  ‘Thank you, Layla. You’re amazing. Thank you.’

  I remained frozen, still shocked at what had just happened. After a minute, he released my hand and looked into my eyes. The hard-edged urgency had gone from his face now; he looked like himself again, and so pathetically grateful that it was hard to believe he’d just pushed me beyond my comfort level. In any case, I’d let it happen; it wasn’t like he’d forced himself on me. He kissed me again, his lips soft, hands gentle on the bare skin of my back.

  ‘You’ve made me very happy tonight, Layla. It wasn’t too much for you, was it?’

  His expression was so earnest that all I could say was, ‘Of course not.’

  NOW

  Layla checked her phone compulsively, waiting for a response from Jodie. She’d instantly regretted sending the message, engaging with her, but she couldn’t live with this anxiety any longer, with not knowing what Jodie intended to do.

  It was a quiet day in the pharmacy, and she hid in the back of the dispensary, taking her phone out every few minutes to check for a new message. She knew Jodie had read it. The little circle of her profile picture had bobbed up beside the message not long after Layla had sent it. What was she doing now? Deciding how she was going to destroy Layla? Or maybe – Layla grabbed the slim hope with both hands – maybe she’d only ever wanted to rattle her, and now that she’d got what she wanted, she’d give up and leave her alone.

  In her lunchbreak, Layla went out into the shopping mall and bought a baguette she didn’t feel like eating from one of the cafes. She wandered listlessly up and down the mall, taking the occasional bite. For a while, she shadowed a small group of teenage girls, the nostalgia swelling within her as they chattered and shrieked with excitement about boyfriends and the New Year’s Eve party they were going to.

  It didn’t matter how much time had passed since she, Renee and Shona had fallen out, seeing other young women and girls together like this always gave her a pang of bitter regret. Childhood friendships drifted apart all the time, she knew that, but it had been different with the three of them. They’d all had different personalities, and emotions had been larger than life back then. They’d disagreed vigorously, fought often, loved each other in the fierce and unrestrained way that teenage girls did. But in among that, there’d always been something real and solid between them.

  Until Layla had taken a sledgehammer to their friendship and smashed it to pieces.

  For years, she’d tried to put them back together, and sometimes it had seemed like it was going to work, but things had never been the same after she’d left Glasswater Bay. She’d never been able to undo the damage. Their fractured friendship had limped along until they’d finished uni and then Shona had gone to London and Renee had returned to Glasswater Bay, and now their relationship was confined to Facebook, where the occasional like on a photo had taken the place of real engagement.

  Layla had made new friends over the years, but no friendship had ever come near what she’d shared with Renee and Shona. Losing them was one of the greatest sorrows of her life; more so, in many ways, than what she’d done to Jodie’s family.

  As if summoned by her thoughts, the message came.

  I want you to understand what you did to us. Meet me for a coffee.

  Layla slumped onto a vacant bench seat and lay the barely touched baguette in her lap. She’d lived with the guilt all this time; the last thing she wanted was to see the consequences of what she’d done. It was in the past. And if Jodie actually had any proof, she would’ve done something about it then, not waited twenty years.

  No way, she typed back. Don’t contact me again.

  Her phone began to ring and Layla jumped so violently that the baguette fell from her lap onto the tiled floor of the mall. Jodie was trying to call her through Messenger. She rejected the call with shaking fingers and switched off her phone. She could ride this out; Jodie would get bored and soon it would all fade into the background again, leaving Layla to get on with her life. She bent to pick up the baguette, stood up and dropped it into the bin beside the bench. Then she went back to work, her belly hollow with worry.

  *

  Layla’s body was already buzzing with anticipation as she and Cam walked into the Governor Hindmarsh Hotel on New Year’s Eve. Despite her love of music in her youth, she hadn’t been to a gig in years, and she’d been overjoyed on Christmas morning when Cam had surprised her with tickets to see Magic Dirt and The Superjesus.

  ‘I haven’t been to the Gov in years!�
� she shouted over the crowd. ‘We should get a good spot in front of the stage now.’

  ‘You don’t actually want to go up the front, do you?’ Cam looked surprised.

  ‘Of course I do! Magic Dirt is one of my favourite bands, and I haven’t seen them in fifteen years.’

  ‘But if we stay over here, we’ll have a good view and access to the bar. Best of both worlds.’

  Layla laughed as she gazed around the room at the vintage photos of musicians hanging on the walls, the lamps that curved over the bar, the clumps of people chatting in groups, beers in hands. ‘God, I love this place. I used to spend most of my weekends between here and the Adelaide Uni bar. The music scene was so good back then.’

  ‘Lucky for you, all these nineties bands are touring again,’ Cam said. ‘They must all be having midlife crises.’

  Layla slapped at his chest. ‘It was the noughties, thanks very much! And you don’t have to keep reminding me that I’m older than you.’

  They reached the bar and he pulled his wallet out of his back pocket. ‘Wine?’

  ‘Nope, it has to be beer. It’s practically mandatory.’

  He ordered their drinks then turned back to her. ‘I can’t believe that once upon a time while you were going to gigs and drinking beer, I was getting drunk at the Law Ball.’

  ‘Ugh, the Law Ball!’ Layla laughed. ‘I went to one of those one year with this guy, and—’ She stopped abruptly, not wanting to explain how the night had ended. The guy fucking her against the wall down the side of the venue. Leaving her there, the ball gown she’d borrowed from her housemate ripped and spattered with his spilt beer.

  ‘And what?’ Cam raised his eyebrows.

  Layla laughed to dispel the heavy feeling that the memory had brought back. ‘Oh, you know what they were like. Lots of drunk girls in pretty dresses, guys swilling beer and beating their chests in their fancy suits.’