Before that though, she had to face Renee again. There would be no escaping the past with her, especially considering her husband would be in the same house.
She went back to her car. The address Renee had given her was burnt into her memory; she didn’t need to look it up.
As she entered the main township, everything felt so familiar and yet so strange. There was Bob Keen’s house on the corner. She wondered if he was still alive; if Keen’s Deli was still there. The blueprint of the streets still lived inside her brain, and she turned down Collins Street, hung a right at Lookout Drive then turned left down Angel Street. Number fifty-six. A modest, orange brick house, built in the seventies, with an immaculate green lawn and hydrangeas planted in tyres in front of the verandah. She recognised the house, had a vague memory of having been inside it as a young child, but she couldn’t remember who had owned it.
The weight of the years pressed down on her shoulders as she parked the car at the kerb. It was still morning; the sun hadn’t quite reached its peak in the sky, but it was already hot. She’d always hated summer in Glasswater Bay – all there was to do was lie on the beach or surf, and she’d never been a beach babe. Even a few streets back from the beach, the heat was as sticky and stifling as it was anywhere else. No trees lined the streets to offset the baking heat that radiated from the bitumen roads. There was no relief for a girl who would rather have been reading than cavorting in the waves.
She’d told Renee she’d be here at midday, but it was too hot to sit in the car and wait, so she got out and crossed the lawn to the front door. She could hardly breathe. Part of her wanted to turn around and run, but the other part was filled with a girlish yearning for the days of their innocence, before she had ruined everything.
The doorbell sang through the interior of the house, and footsteps approached from within. The door swung open. ‘You’re early! Hi.’
Her old friend’s figure was still slight and graceful, but there were fine lines around her mouth and a few stray grey hairs were threaded through her red hair. She wore a loose white linen shirt and jeans. No make-up, but she carried the air of a woman who was comfortable in her own body. Layla felt suddenly self-conscious, with her full face of make-up and her smart clothes. She had no idea if her own hair was turning grey because she had a standing monthly appointment to have her roots touched up, a shade lighter than her natural colour. She didn’t wear make-up to make herself feel good; she was a slave to it.
‘Sorry, do you want me to come back?’
‘No, don’t be silly! Come in.’ Renee stepped forward and they hugged awkwardly.
She still smelt the same. Layla hadn’t expected that. Tears threatened behind her eyes.
Renee noticed Layla peering past her. ‘He’s not here. He’s taken the boys surfing at Tor Beach. They’ll be back later this arvo.’
The relief was instant but temporary. Putting off the inevitable confrontation only increased her nerves. Layla followed Renee into the living room and set her bag down on the floor beside one of the couches. She studied the photos that hung on the wall: Renee and her husband, their kids playing on the beach, family photos that had obviously been taken by a professional. ‘I can’t believe your kids are so big,’ she said. ‘Mine are only two and four.’
‘Got any pics you can show me?’
This Layla could do. She got her phone out of her bag and flicked through her album to show Renee photos of Louis and Ella.
‘They’re so cute. They look like you.’
Layla raised her eyebrows. ‘Poor things!’
Renee gave her a curious look. ‘They’re gorgeous, Layla. I miss that age when they’re still all soft and squishy.’
Layla gave a strained smile at this oft-repeated sentiment. ‘People keep telling me that, but it’s not all it’s cracked up to be. Some days I feel like I’m going insane.’
‘Oh yeah, toddlers are a fucking shit show, no doubt about it.’
Layla burst out laughing, and the tension dissipated a little. This was the Renee she remembered. ‘You’re not wrong.’
‘And I had two at once!’ Renee looked wistful. ‘But believe me, blink now and tomorrow they’ll be starting high school, like my boys are about to. Do you want a coffee? Tea?’
‘Tea would be great, thanks.’
The kitchen looked like it had recently been renovated. Layla pulled out one of the stools at the long charcoal bench and sat down. ‘How’s work? You’re in Victor, right?’
‘Actually, I’m about to open my own practice here in Glasswater Bay. Fuck knows there are enough clinically depressed people in this town.’ She laughed self-consciously.
‘Congratulations!’ Layla said. Everyone had been surprised when Renee had changed her plans to study law and applied for psychology instead, but as soon as she’d made the decision, it had seemed right. ‘I hope it goes well.’
Renee eyed Layla over the tea bag she was dunking in a mug. ‘So what made you change your mind about the reunion?’
Layla’s insides shrivelled. ‘I guess I got sick of running. I feel like I haven’t stopped since I left.’ She looked down. ‘I also wanted to make things right. Between us.’
Renee was silent. Layla wished she could take back what she’d said. She hadn’t meant to be so honest; not this early anyway. It made her feel vulnerable, and she hated feeling vulnerable.
‘I also want to see if Katrina’s let herself go,’ she added.
Renee laughed. ‘She hasn’t. Sarah Bennett is still in touch with her and apparently she still looks bangin’. But she’s twice divorced and miserable, if that helps?’
‘It doesn’t really. I don’t wish unhappiness on any of them. We’re all different people from who we were then.’
Now it was Renee’s turn to look away. She got the milk out of the fridge and added a splash to the tea, then pushed the mug across the bench to Layla. ‘Yeah, about that.’ Her eyes drifted to a photo of her husband and her in a silver frame beside the coffee machine. ‘He’s having trouble letting go. Just so you know.’
Layla swallowed. ‘Would it be easier if I stayed somewhere else? I could find a B and B or something if it’s going to cause trouble for you guys.’
‘Nah.’ Renee waved her hand in a careless gesture. ‘I told him he’d have to deal with it. It’s only one night.’
Layla clasped the mug, ignoring the scalding heat. Renee’s husband had more than one reason to hate her, and she didn’t blame him. It was because of him that she and Renee had never managed to repair their friendship after school; why the three girls had never got the share house together like they’d planned throughout their teenage years.
No, not him. It was because of her, and what she’d done.
‘When’s Shona coming around?’ she asked to banish her self-reproach.
‘Not until five. She’s got a family thing this afternoon. This is the first time she’s come back in five years, so they’re all monopolising her time.’
‘She still single?’
‘Proudly. She always said she didn’t need a man, didn’t she?’
At once, Layla could’ve been squeezed into a change room with her friends again, trying on dresses and laughing at Shona’s determination to go to the formal without a date. If only she could’ve frozen time and remained in that scene forever, when her friends had still believed in her, when she’d still had hope. Before she’d fucked it all up.
She set down her mug on the bench. ‘Where’s your bathroom? I might just freshen up.’
THEN
Out of the blue, Jodie started coming into the cafe more regularly. Scott insisted that she knew nothing about us, but after the incident in the reserve, my paranoia had reached peak levels.
At first I avoided her, but after a while my shame channelled into anger at her, and I started blatantly flirting with Scott in front of her. In response, he gave me fewer shifts, and some days even sent me home early, so we began to see a lot less of each other. He’d hired anoth
er girl to replace Yumi, a Year Eleven called Anna. She was prettier than I was, taller, curvier, and the jealousy was acid in my guts.
‘Do you think about Anna when you’re with me?’ I asked him one night as he kissed my neck.
‘Don’t be ridiculous,’ Scott said, his hand already in my bra. ‘I think about you when I’m with you.’
‘But her boobs are much bigger than mine.’
He sighed. ‘I don’t care about her tits, Layla.’
‘So why’s she getting all my old shifts, then?’
He stepped away from me, his mouth turning down at the sides. ‘Maybe because she doesn’t nag me all the bloody time like you do.’
I felt sick. ‘I didn’t mean it like that. I feel like I hardly see you anymore, and she’s so much better looking than I am.’
‘You’re being paranoid. Anna’s younger than you, so I don’t have to pay her as much. That’s all there is to it.’
I hated myself for my insecurity, but every time I was on a shift with Anna, I imagined he was staring at her chest, and that she was intentionally leaving her shirt unbuttoned low enough to show off her impressive cleavage. And I started to wonder why Scott only ever seemed to hire young, pretty girls and no boys. I became more daring, even touching him in front of the customers in a reckless attempt to keep his attention on me. He acted like he disapproved, but I knew he loved the danger of it … I could tell by his ferocity when we were alone. These were the only times I felt as though I had any control over him, even if the sex was becoming increasingly unenjoyable. If I could make him do anything I wanted, just with the power of my body, then surely, one day, that would be enough.
*
One Sunday night, I went for dinner with my family at the Rusty Anchor, only to discover Scott was there with Jodie and the kids. I knew he’d seen me, because his face flushed ever so slightly when we made eye contact across the room. But then he pointedly ignored me for the entire meal. Every time I looked over, he’d be laughing at something one of his kids had said, or eating his schnitzel, or leaning over to whisper in Jodie’s ear. He looked utterly unattainable, and fury began to fizzle in my veins. He’d told me his marriage was over – he’d told me he wanted to marry me – and yet here he was, taunting me, parading his family in front of me while I sat at a table with my parents and my idiot brother like a stupid child.
‘What are you looking at?’ Mum said after a while, following my gaze. ‘Oh, there’s Scott and Jodie. Hi!’ She waved at them across the room, and Jodie raised a hand in return. Scott didn’t even lift his head. My blood burned. I’d show them I wasn’t the good girl they thought I was. I’d show him what I was willing to do to keep him.
The next time he went to the bar, I got up too. ‘Getting another lemonade,’ I mumbled to my parents.
Scott shot me an annoyed look as I came to stand beside him.
‘Enjoying your meal?’ I said, resting my elbows on the bar.
‘Sure.’ His gaze darted from Barry, the bartender and owner of the pub, then back to me. ‘You?’
‘Well, the meals are as shithouse as always.’
‘Oi,’ protested Barry without any real conviction, handing Scott his beer.
‘Can I get a lemonade, please?’ I asked Barry.
‘After what you said about my food?’
‘Everyone says that about the food, Barry.’
He flashed me a grin as he moved up to the post-mix taps at the other end of the bar. I shuffled closer to Scott and lowered my voice. ‘Go to the disabled bathroom. I’ll follow you in a minute.’
‘Don’t be ridiculous.’ He didn’t look at me. ‘My family is right there.’
Barry had poured my drink and was heading back towards us. The moment had almost passed. I had to do something. ‘Well, if you don’t want to fuck me, I guess I’ll just have to go home and take care of myself.’
His breath came out hard. I turned away to pay Barry, and when I glanced back, Scott was already heading for the bathrooms. I took my lemonade over to the table where my family sat. ‘Just going to the loo.’
Then I looked across the room, right at Jodie, and gave her a cruel little smile. My heart thundered in my chest as I followed Scott to the bathroom. I’d never been so direct, so daring. It was so easy to make him want me. I pushed open the door to the bathroom and Scott grabbed me. His fingernails raked across my skin as he ripped my jeans down and spun me around to face the mirror.
‘You are a very bad girl, Layla,’ he said.
There was no foreplay; he just forced his way inside me.
It hurt, but I made eye contact with his reflection and said, ‘Harder.’
His eyes were crazed with desire. ‘You love being my little slut, don’t you?’
‘Harder,’ I said again, clenching my teeth as my hips banged against the sink. He gave me a stinging slap on the behind. There was no love in his eyes, only hunger and something that looked very close to hatred. My brief triumph at snatching him from under the nose of his wife was swallowed by what I was letting him do to me.
After a minute, he came into the sink, then pulled up his jeans. ‘I’d better get back out there.’
He slapped me on the bum again and walked out. He hadn’t kissed me once; hadn’t said anything other than demeaning dirty talk. And I’d let him degrade me. No, I’d encouraged him to. Humiliation leaked into every crevice, soaking me, drowning me. My eyes in the mirror were haunted and empty.
*
Over the following weeks, I tried harder to convince Scott that it was time for him to leave his wife, but he always had some excuse why he couldn’t. His son was sick; Jodie was fighting with her mum; he was trying to save money to expand the cafe; I was in Year Twelve and needed to concentrate on school.
‘I’ve been thinking,’ I said to him one afternoon. ‘Maybe I could defer uni next year and stay in Glasswater? I could work for you full-time and help you with the business.’
He gave a dismissive laugh. ‘Don’t be silly, Layla. You don’t want to waste your life here with me. You’ve got a future.’
I felt miserable all the time, fluctuating between neglecting my school work and studying like a demon, always on the edge of crying.
‘Oh, Layla, what’s wrong?’ Mum asked one night when she caught me huddled on the couch, tears sliding down my face, but I could only shake my head. She sat down beside me and put an arm around my shoulders. ‘I know everything always feels so extreme when you’re a teenager, but one day you’ll look back at this and laugh.’
The tenderness of her touch juxtaposed wildly with Scott’s; my hip bones still carried the ghosts of the bruises from the bathroom sink. It seemed like so long since anyone had touched me with love, and I longed to give into it. But the idea of her knowing how much of myself I was sacrificing to make him want me was horrifying. I threw her arm away and stood up abruptly.
Her hurt expression haunted me as I shut myself in my bedroom and buried my face in my pillow so she wouldn’t hear me cry.
*
Renee, Shona and I loitered out the front of school one afternoon after the bell had gone, reluctant to go home but with no real motivation to do much more than enjoy the first warm day of spring. The sweet scent of jasmine flowers just bursting into bloom danced on the breeze from the vine that tumbled over the school fence. I didn’t have a shift at the cafe this afternoon, and I felt lighter than I had in a long time.
We chatted about our final exams, which were now only a month away. School was almost over, and the rest of our lives yawned open, swallowing the shrinking year. Applications for uni closed in a couple of weeks, and we’d all been madly juggling our preferences to work out which direction we were going to take our lives. The possibilities consumed me. I’d barely spent any time with Scott over the last few weeks, and it was a curious relief. The prospect of leaving for uni next year seemed at once an escape and the loss of a dream.
‘So, if Layla and I get our first preferences we’ll both be at Uni SA,’
Shona said. ‘But your first preference is Adelaide Uni, right, Renee?’
Renee crossed her arms. ‘Actually, I’m having second thoughts about law school.’
I bumped her with my elbow. ‘Way to change your mind at the last minute. What are you thinking of changing to?’
She shrugged. ‘I dunno. Psychology, maybe? Or I could defer for a year while I work out what I want to do.’
‘No fucking way.’ Shona shook her head firmly. ‘We’re all going to uni next year and we’re gonna get a share house together, and when we’ve finished uni, we’ll backpack around Europe, just like we planned.’
‘Yeah, I guess.’ Renee didn’t look convinced.
I didn’t comment. My suggestion to Scott that I could defer next year still hung over me, and I hadn’t brought it up with my friends. If he asked me to stay, I’d do it, no question, but the idea of missing out on uni life with my friends left a little hollow feeling in my belly. And if I did end up marrying him, starting a life with him, the Europe trip might never happen either.
‘Anyway, let’s enjoy the rest of the year while we still can,’ Shona said. ‘So, who are we taking to the formal?’
My mood soured. ‘We should all go without dates. You said it yourself, we don’t need men.’
Renee’s freckled face turned pink. ‘Um, Shona. I’ve been meaning to tell you, but yesterday Daniel asked me to the formal.’
‘Oh.’ Shona looked taken aback. ‘You’re full of surprises today, girlfriend.’
‘You don’t mind?’ Renee looked anxious.
‘Nah, why would I? He’s not my boyfriend anymore.’
‘Thanks.’ Renee was still flushed with shy excitement. ‘It kind of came out of the blue. I hadn’t really considered him in that way until he asked me, but now I can’t stop thinking about him.’
‘Oh! Oh!’ Shona jumped up and down, pointing at Renee. ‘When we went to Spiderbait, he kept, like, staring at you. Remember, Layla? I was super paranoid he was going to dump me for you.’
The Girl She Was Page 19