It would be intolerable. It would be embarrassing, and cringeworthy, and it would bring up all sorts of memories. But it would give her a chance to make amends with Renee, to laugh with Shona again, to maybe, just maybe, revive their friendship.
I’ll think about it, she typed back to Renee.
*
When Cam got home, Layla was cooking dinner, a glass of wine in one hand. Louis and Ella sat on the floor under the dining table, eating from a bag of corn chips and playing a game only the two of them understood. They both jumped up and ran over to Cam, yelling, ‘Daddy! Daddy!’
Louis screeched an unintelligible song, jumping from side to side like a deranged monkey. Ella hugged her father’s leg, gazed up at him and proclaimed, ‘FuckSAKE!’
Cam raised his eyebrows at Layla as he struggled not to laugh. ‘That kind of day?’
Layla gestured at her wineglass. ‘They broke me.’
Now he laughed, his eyes crinkling at the corners. ‘Do you want to go out for a while and I’ll feed them and get them ready for bed?’
‘Nah, I’m too knackered to go anywhere now. Drink?’
‘Thanks.’
She poured him a glass of wine. ‘So, you’re not going to believe this, but I’m actually thinking of going to my twenty-year high school reunion.’
‘What?’ Cam laughed.
‘Renee messaged me about it today and it made me kind of nostalgic for my high school days. God knows why; I spent the whole time I was there dreaming about getting out.’
‘Twenty years.’ Cam shook his head with mock wonder. ‘You’re getting on a bit. I might have to trade you in for a younger model.’
‘Look how funny you think you are.’ But underneath Layla’s laugh, the ever-present fear raised its head. She was only two years older than Cam, but surely it was only a matter of time before he worked out that he could do so much better.
Cam came around to her side of the bench and put his arms around her. ‘I guess I’m not quite up to a midlife crisis yet. Maybe in a few years I’ll find myself a hot, nubile young thing in the prime of her youth.’
Layla broke away from him abruptly. ‘No girl is in her prime when she’s seventeen!’ she snapped.
‘Who said anything about seventeen?’ Cam looked confused. ‘I was just joking.’
Layla took a gulp of her wine. ‘Sorry if I don’t find it funny for a grown man to take advantage of a teenager.’
Cam’s mouth fell open. ‘I said nothing about teenagers. What are you attacking me for? It was just a stupid joke.’
Layla took a deep breath in an attempt to slow the flurry of panic inside her. ‘Yeah. Yeah, I know. Sorry, it’s been a rough day.’
She reached out for him again, but he turned away, his face still stormy. ‘Why don’t you go and have a shower?’
‘I’m sorry, Cam,’ she said, but he didn’t acknowledge her, just turned his attention to the kids as if she hadn’t spoken at all.
*
As she stood under the shower, eyes closed against the spray, she berated herself. Despite her own insecurities about her appearance, she’d never really thought that Cam might cheat on her. She didn’t believe he would, not after what his father had done. But could she really blame him if he did, after she’d just bitten his head off for no reason? Could she really blame him when he had to come home to this disgusting body every night?
And wouldn’t it be karma, considering she’d never been punished for what she’d done?
THEN
I watched Shona as she doodled lazily on her sketchpad. She’d chosen art as an elective largely due to the teacher’s lax standards. Miss Grainger was around fifty and a full-on hippie, with masses of curly blonde hair, long velvet skirts and a perpetually dreamy look on her face. I always had a free period at the same time as Shona’s art class, and Miss Grainger never seemed to mind me wandering in and chatting with Shona. She also let the boys bring in hip-hop CDs to play on the stereo, the explicit lyrics floating right over her head. There was a constant debate between the students over whether she really was as innocent as she seemed or whether she was playing us all for fools.
‘Hey, Miss Grainger?’ Katrina called from the other side of the classroom.
‘Yes, Katrina?’
‘Do you think a head job is rude?’ she said slyly.
Miss Grainger’s face turned pink as she searched for a suitable response. ‘I think you should concentrate on your artwork and stop asking irrelevant questions.’
Katrina and her minions giggled, and there were sniggers from around the classroom.
‘She so doesn’t know what a head job is,’ Shona said.
I rested my chin on my hands. ‘Have you ever … you know?’
Shona glanced up at me. ‘Gone down? Yeah, I did with Daniel a few times.’
‘Was it gross?’
‘I didn’t love it,’ Shona admitted. ‘But he did, which kind of made it sexy, I guess. Why, is Scott putting the pressure on?’
I looked away, blushing. ‘Not really.’
Things had been getting hotter and heavier with Scott ever since we’d resumed our post-work sessions a few weeks ago, and the hand on the top of my head was becoming more insistent. He always backed off when I asked him to, but I could tell he was getting impatient. And so I’d make him come, all the while wondering when he was going to tire of waiting for me, and I’d leave the cafe hating myself for not being able to give him what he wanted.
‘So you haven’t had sex yet?’ Shona asked.
‘No. And we’re not going to. Not while he’s still married.’
But the possibility was there all the time, weighing on me. When we were apart, I thought about it constantly, conjuring up the perfect situation where there would be no fear, no pain, and that little thrill of arousal would buzz through my entire body. But when we were together, everything felt out of my control, and there was this kernel of me – just a tiny one – that felt threatened. Sex was supposed to be natural, but in the moment, nothing we did made me feel like I wanted it. And that made me panic that he would think I was frigid, so I let him do more than I was comfortable with, which made me feel even less like taking things further.
Shona was watching me closely, her usual flippant expression replaced with a serious one. ‘So he’s going to leave her, then?’
‘I … yeah, he will eventually. When the time is right.’ More and more, I found myself using Scott’s words to my friends as a way of convincing myself that he meant them. Shona was still looking at me, but I couldn’t maintain eye contact and false bravado at the same time, so I let my gaze drop to the table.
When Scott had told me he loved me, I’d assumed it would only be a matter of time before he separated from his wife and moved out. But he didn’t seem to want to discuss those specifics, and I’d been too scared of losing him to push him on it. And to be honest, I wasn’t sure if I was ready to face up to the reality of the situation myself … what I’d tell my parents, what everyone would think of me for breaking up a family. It felt safer this way, convincing myself that we weren’t hurting anyone, that we hadn’t committed the ultimate betrayal because we hadn’t had sex.
‘Do you think I should?’ I asked when she didn’t say anything.
‘Babe, I’m the last one to judge you about sex stuff,’ Shona said, ‘but this isn’t the same as popping your cherry with your high school boyfriend. Imagine if his wife found out.’
I stared at my hands. I imagined it all the time.
Shona nudged me. ‘Whatever you do, make sure you tell me about it, OK? I want to live vicariously through your hot affair.’
We laughed, and I perked up a bit.
Affair. I was having an affair. It did sound quite exciting when she put it like that.
*
Scott’s mouth was on my neck, his breath coming in short gasps. ‘I want to be inside you so badly.’
The usual nervousness returned, and I broke away from him.
Scott gro
aned. ‘God, I want you so much. Why do you keep pushing me away?’
‘I’m sorry. I want you too, but I’m not—’
‘You’re not ready,’ he interrupted. There was a smile on his face that didn’t quite reach his eyes. ‘I know, I know. I’m trying to be patient, but you don’t know how hard it is for me to stop when you get me going like this.’
‘I’m sorry,’ I said again. ‘Let me help you.’
I reached for him, but he stepped back. ‘It’s not enough, Layla. It’s like torture, having to hold back like this.’
‘But …’ My voice shook. ‘But you said touching me was enough.’
‘And you said you’d have sex with me if I loved you!’ The words exploded out of him, and I stared at him in shock. He’d never raised his voice at me before.
‘That’s not what I …’ I stopped. Had I said that? Maybe not in so many words, but I couldn’t blame him for coming to that conclusion. He was twenty-eight years old; he wasn’t going to be content with my inexpert fumbling forever.
‘I do everything I can to pleasure you, Layla, and all I get in return is hand jobs.’ He ran a hand through his hair, his eyes desperate. ‘Do you understand how frustrating this is for me?’
I hung my head. ‘I’m sorry I’m so bad at this.’
There was a moment of silence, then he clasped my face in his hands and guided my gaze back to his. ‘You’re not bad at anything.’ His expression was softer now. ‘I didn’t set out to fall in love with you, Layla, but here we are.’
I could never resist him when he was looking at me like this, with his heart in his eyes. I kissed him, let his tongue stroke mine, let his fingers tangle in my hair. If only it could always be like this, tender, gentle, then maybe I could see myself going the whole way.
He drew back and pushed my hair away from my face. ‘Making love is the most beautiful way to express our feelings. I want to show you how amazing it can be.’ A wistful smile touched his lips. ‘But if you don’t feel the same way about me, well … it hurts, Layla, but I can let you go.’
Desperate panic gripped me; that I’d lose him, that I’d go back to being alone. ‘I do! I do feel the same way.’
‘You love me?’
‘Yes, I love you. I love you so much.’
‘Show me,’ he breathed. ‘Show me how much you love me.’
He pushed down gently on my shoulders. The fear rose inside me again, suffocating, choking, but I wrestled it down and dropped to my knees. I didn’t want to do this, I didn’t feel ready for it. But I couldn’t lose him, because who in the world would love me then?
NOW
When they’d ordered their meals, Layla sat back in her chair. ‘I’ve been hanging out for this all week.’
Cam clinked his glass against hers. ‘Cheers to date night.’ Layla took a sip of her wine. Things had been tense between them ever since she’d snapped at him the other night. But now her husband was smiling at her the way he always did, and maybe this was what they needed, to get away from the house for a few hours.
‘Apparently, Louis bit one of the other kids at child care today,’ Layla said. ‘Left teeth marks on his arm.’
Cam shook his head. ‘He’s a rough little bugger sometimes.’
‘He’s been out of control lately, but I don’t know if his behaviour is normal or if there’s some other issue.’
Cam stared out across the restaurant. ‘I’m sure it’s normal.’
It wasn’t the first time Layla had brought up the subject, but Cam always got defensive, as if she was blaming him for Louis’s challenging behaviour, and this in turn frustrated her. ‘But how would we know? He’s our first. Maybe we should get him assessed.’
His gaze flicked back to her. ‘Assessed for what?’
‘I don’t know. But all the literature says that early intervention is best for kids who need a bit of extra help.’
Cam made a casual gesture with his hand. ‘Bugger the literature. He’s a normal, rowdy kid. There’s nothing wrong with him.’
‘It’s not about there being something wrong with him.’ Layla set her wineglass down on the table. ‘Why can’t you understand that?’
‘What I can’t understand is why you’d want to stick a label on our child.’
‘Jesus, Cam, I’m not trying to put a label on him! I just want to give him the best start.’
The waiter approached their table, and there was a tense moment as he placed their entrees before them. He disappeared and Layla and Cam ate and drank their wine in silence for a few minutes, staring into their meals rather than making eye contact. Finally, Cam reached across the table and took her hand. ‘Sorry. I know you want what’s best for him.’
She squeezed his hand. ‘I’m just worried about him, that’s all.’
‘I know, me too. Why don’t we see how he goes when he starts kindy? I bet he’ll leap ahead then.’
‘I guess so.’ Layla twirled her wineglass by the stem.
‘Anyway, I thought we weren’t going to talk about the kids tonight? This dinner is for us.’
She smiled at him. ‘You’re right. No more kid talk.’
The silence stretched out again. Sometimes Layla worried that they’d lost the ability to talk about anything that didn’t revolve around their children. By the time they got the kids to bed, she just wanted to flop onto the couch and stare at the TV for a few hours. Then when they finally had these few hours a month to themselves, there seemed to be nothing to say. One day the kids wouldn’t be around anymore; would there be anything left of them by then?
‘How’s work?’ She clutched at a conversation.
‘Busy. Boring,’ Cam said absently. ‘Oh, I keep forgetting to tell you. I got a message today from that woman who tried to friend me on Facebook a few weeks ago. Jodie something.’
Layla’s throat constricted, and for a second she couldn’t breathe, let alone speak. ‘Which woman? What was the message?’
‘Hold on.’ He unlocked his phone and tapped the screen. ‘Here.’
Layla tried to stop her fingers from trembling as she took the phone from him and stared at the screen.
Has your wife told you what she got up to when she was in high school?
She read and re-read the message, trying to work out what on earth she was going to say. ‘What the hell?’ she finally got out, manipulating her face into what she hoped was a confused expression. ‘That’s just weird.’
‘I know. Especially since you don’t even know her.’
Layla felt lightheaded, and she threw back a mouthful of wine.
‘I thought maybe it had something to do with your school reunion,’ Cam went on. ‘Except that she’s obviously older than you.’
Layla leapt on this. ‘Actually, yeah. I think maybe she works for the school and is helping to organise it. Come to think of it, Renee mentioned something about a naughty list. They’re giving out awards or something. Bit childish if you ask me.’ The words tumbled out of her mouth.
Cam raised his eyebrows. ‘You don’t seem like the type who got into trouble at school. Star student, weren’t you?’
She blushed and took another sip from her glass. ‘Something like that.’
‘Should I reply to her?’
Layla almost choked on her mouthful of wine in her rush to answer. ‘No, don’t. She shouldn’t be contacting you.’
‘If you say so.’ He took his phone back and locked it.
Layla avoided his gaze by picking up her own phone. ‘I wonder whether Mum’s got the kids to bed yet.’
Cam waved a finger at her. ‘No kid talk, remember?’
*
When they got home, Layla’s mum was flicking through the TV channels.
‘How was your dinner?’ she said brightly.
‘Great,’ Layla said. ‘How were the kids?’
Angela gave a dismissive gesture. ‘Angels, as always. Got both of them down by seven thirty.’
Layla gave a frustrated sigh. ‘Why do they always behave
for you? We struggle to get them to bed by eight.’
‘Grandparents have special powers.’
Cam laughed. ‘It’s called chocolate, right?’
Angela pointed a finger at him. ‘Bingo.’
‘So, Angela,’ Cam said, ‘Layla’s twenty-year high school reunion is coming up soon.’
‘Oh yeah?’ Her mum’s eyes flicked to Layla’s briefly.
‘Yeah, they’re putting together a list of all the bad things the students got up to. Got any dirt on Layla?’
‘Pfft, Layla was top of her class. She never did anything bad. You’re not actually going to go, are you?’ Her eyes sought out Layla’s again, and Layla turned away.
‘I’m not sure. Shona’s back from London, and Renee’s going. I haven’t seen them for years.’
A tense moment passed before Angela switched off the TV and reached for her handbag. ‘Well, I’d better get going and let you two get to bed.’
‘I’ll see you out,’ Layla said.
Her mum turned to face her when they reached the doorstep, a crease between her eyebrows. ‘Does this have anything to do with Jodie Telford?’
Layla glanced over her shoulder to make sure Cam wasn’t in earshot. ‘She asked me to go to Glasswater to talk to her, but then Ella got sick and I fobbed her off. Now she’s sent Cam a message telling him to ask me what I got up to in high school. I let him think it had something to do with the reunion.’
The look on her mother’s face reminded Layla of the day she’d told her what she’d done. ‘Do you know what she wants?’
‘No.’ Layla wrung her hands. ‘She just said she wants me to know what she’s been through. She’s threatening to tell Cam.’
Her mum put a hand on her shoulder. ‘Why don’t you just tell him yourself?’
‘I can’t.’ The very idea made Layla’s stomach lurch. ‘What would he think of me?’
‘It’s not good to have secrets in a marriage, Layla. I can tell you that from experience.’
Guilt washed over Layla again, and she dropped her head into her hands. ‘I’m sorry I forced you to keep it all from Dad. I know it’s my fault that he left.’
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