My eyes fell on the sandwich press. On its own, it wouldn’t be enough to start a fire, but if I left something lying over it … something that would catch alight if it was on for long enough … long enough for me to be far away. It would be a small fire, confined to the kitchen. The fire station was only around the corner. It wouldn’t cause too much damage, but it’d be enough to keep Scott occupied dealing with insurance and repairs. No one would get hurt. No one would suspect me.
My finger hovered over the power point. For a second, I considered the possibility that Dave might be landed with the blame. He might lose his job. But my fear of Scott was greater, so I switched it on and opened it up. I began searching the shelves for something that would take a while to catch alight. I could lay the power cable over it, but that would probably trip the safety switch and the power would go out before the fire could start. Paper would catch too easily. Was plastic wrap flammable? That seemed like something I should’ve learnt at school.
After a moment, I got the loaf of bread down from the shelf and started to make a sandwich. I made it look legit: prosciutto, Jarlsberg, baby spinach. I left out the tomato for fear it’d make the sandwich too damp to burn. Then I placed the sandwich on the hot surface and locked the sandwich press closed. The minutes passed slowly as I waited until the smell of melting cheese began to waft out, then, before I could change my mind, I ran out of the kitchen, opened the front door and locked it behind me.
I walked rapidly back down the main street. A deep dread lay in the pit of my stomach. Across the other side of the Esplanade, I was passing a red Torana SLR parked on the wrong side of the road when a hand snaked out of the open window and caught my arm. I gasped in fright. Matty’s face appeared, striking instant fear into me. A backpack sat on his lap, like he’d been about to get out. His face broke into a grin.
‘I hear you’re the town bike now, Laaaylaaa. How come I never got a ride?’
‘Fuck off, Matty.’ I pulled away from him, but he opened the car door and got out onto the footpath.
‘So, you’ve been rooting Telford all this time? Not the good girl everyone thought you were, ay?’ He came up close to me, and my stomach lurched at his scent of sweat and chemicals. ‘Here’s a bit of free advice for you: I’d stay away from that prick if I were you. He’s trouble.’ Then he chuckled. ‘Anyway, you can tell him not to worry, I’ll keep Jodie warm at night.’
Before I had a chance to react, he turned and strode away across the street. I watched him for a moment to make sure he didn’t turn back, then sat on the same bench seat Renee, Shona and I had got pissed on months ago and stared out at the ocean. It’d taken me my whole life to recognise the irony of this infinite, open view that lay just out of reach of the claustrophobic clutches of this small town. Mostly, I’d been happy here, but in recent years the bonds of this place had tightened around me, and I wondered if escape would ever be truly possible. So many of Glasswater Bay’s residents had lived here all their lives; their parents and grandparents too. Now, when I was on the verge of escape, my return seemed inevitable, even if only to visit my family. And when I did, Scott would still be here. Setting fire to his cafe wasn’t going to change that. This wasn’t the person I wanted to be.
I stood up and started to run.
NOW
Layla took refuge in the sweet, burnt taste of boiling water poured over coffee granules before she had the courage to speak. ‘You wanted me to face up to what I did to your family. So tell me.’
Layla could sense the barely contained tension bubbling within Jodie. For a moment, the older woman stared down into her coffee, then she raised blazing blue eyes to meet Layla’s. ‘Can you imagine what it was like? Knowing your husband was sleeping with a teenager?’
Layla shook her head.
‘Having to go into that cafe, seeing you, with your youth and your perfect body, touching my husband right under my nose. The way you used to look at me, like I was dog shit under your shoe.’
Layla hung her head at the memory of her own jealousy and insecurity, dressed up as blind arrogance.
‘You made me feel old, and I hated you for that.’ She spat out the words bitterly. ‘I was twenty-eight years old and I already felt like my best years were behind me.’
‘I’m so sorry,’ Layla said.
‘Then there was that night at the pub.’ Her lips quivered with rage. ‘You took him off and screwed him in the bathroom, then sent him back to the table with his little kids, smelling of you.’
Layla buried her head in her hands. ‘I’m sorry, I was so awful. I’ve hated myself for years for the way I acted.’
‘Well, so have I,’ Jodie shot back. The angry silence boiled around them, thick and hot. ‘But that’s not the reason I’ve resented you for so long,’ Jodie said at last, and Layla looked up. ‘You know, I’ve never told anyone else this, but I was about to leave him. Oh, not because of you,’ she added. ‘Our relationship had been dead for years. But every time I tried to end it, he’d turn on the charm, organise romantic dinners, convince me we were meant to be together. Or he’d bring the kids into it, lay the guilt trip on me about what it’d do to them if we split up. He constantly made me question myself.’
‘He did that to me too,’ Layla said.
Jodie appraised her for a moment. ‘So I guess you worked out that he wasn’t the nice guy everyone thought he was.’
Layla had the urge to pour everything out to her, but she was here to listen to Jodie, not to tell her own story. She bit her lip and nodded instead.
‘Well, I wasn’t perfect either. I kind of got interested in someone else, but I hung around with Scott so I could save enough money to leave him and get custody of the kids. I was almost there, you know. I’d opened my own bank account and had been transferring small amounts of money for months. I had a whole plan set in place when you started that fire and he ended up permanently disabled. I couldn’t leave him then, could I?’
A mix of guilt and sorrow churned inside Layla. If only she hadn’t made this woman an enemy when she’d only ever been another flawed human, struggling with many of the same uncertainties Scott had put her through. Jodie had wasted all those years tied to a man she hadn’t loved since she was practically a teenager herself, sacrificing her own happiness, her own future, to do the right thing.
Jodie gestured expansively. ‘They all thought I was a bloody saint. Of course, they worked it out eventually, but it’s too late now.’
‘I’m so sorry,’ Layla said again. ‘I never wanted any of that to happen. I was desperate. He used to hurt me … I just wanted to make it stop.’
‘You could have gone to the police. But burning down the cafe? What was that supposed to achieve?’
‘I don’t know. I wasn’t thinking. He told me if I went to the police, he’d tell them I was crazy, that I was obsessed with him.’ Layla wrung her hands. ‘And I believed him. I believed that my reputation would be enough to exonerate him.’
For the first time, a hint of sympathy lit in Jodie’s eyes. ‘The police are always ready to blame the woman. Or the girl, in your case.’
Regret filled Layla to the brim. After all this time, she’d never expected compassion. It was too much. ‘You’re right,’ she said. ‘I did cause the fire, but it was never supposed to hurt anyone. It was only ever meant to cause a bit of damage to the kitchen, enough to take his attention off me for a while.’ She hesitated. ‘There was someone across the other side of the street when I came out of the cafe. It was you, wasn’t it?’
Jodie nodded. ‘I was on my way to the bank to withdraw the last lot of money I needed, then I was going to go home and tell him I was leaving him.’ She gave a bitter laugh. ‘But of course he wasn’t there.’
‘I changed my mind. I couldn’t go through with it. When you saw me, I’d gone back to turn off the sandwich press. But it was too late. It must have still been hot enough to start the fire, or maybe something fell on top of it. I don’t know.’
Confusion cross
ed Jodie’s face. ‘Sandwich press?’
‘That’s how it started. I put a sandwich in there and left it on.’
Jodie leant forward, her hands on her knees. ‘What are you talking about? The fire originated in the storeroom. The police found residues of kerosene.’
THEN
There was still no one on the street when I rushed back into the cafe and through to the kitchen. The sandwich was sizzling furiously; the room was infused with the smell of burnt cheese. I switched off the sandwich press at the power point, then unplugged it for good measure. The sandwich was a blackened mess and I had to lever it off with a spatula so I could dump it into the bin.
My breathing began to slow as I scrubbed off the burnt cheese with paper towel. It was hard to believe now, in this moment of calm, that I’d ever had such a stupid idea. I’d been scared, that was all. But he couldn’t hurt me now. I’d be out of this town soon, and he’d forget about me, and I’d never have to worry about him again.
I’d just walked out of the kitchen when I heard a thud from behind me, as if something had fallen off a shelf. My heart leapt. I poked my head back into the kitchen, but it was empty.
I slipped back outside onto the footpath. Too late, I noticed a figure across the street, but I ducked my head and kept going, as if it were perfectly normal to walk out of a closed business on a Sunday. Everyone knew I used to work here; if anyone asked, it’d be easy to say that I’d gone back to pick up something I’d left. And the disaster I’d almost created was averted, so there’d be no reason for anyone to ask anyway.
The sun was warm on my shoulders, seeping into my skin like disinfectant, washing away my wrongdoings. By the time I reached the Esplanade again, there was such a deep sense of peace inside me that I wasn’t ready to go home. I slipped off my thongs and left them on the top of the stone steps that led down onto the beach.
Renee and Shona had always joked that it was a waste that I’d grown up in a quaint seaside town when I hated the beach, but sometimes, on mornings like this when there was no one around, I liked being down here. The sand was cool and smooth under my feet and the breeze tossed my hair. The beach curved around the bay like a crescent moon. At this time of day, the water was as still as the town’s namesake, and calm enough to keep the legion of surfers away. With every step, my worries lifted and floated above me. Maybe there could be a life after Glasswater Bay, where I could start fresh, without the reputation I’d earned here. I felt like I could walk forever.
When I reached the end of the bay, I turned around to walk back. The wind had picked up now and I was heading into it; it streamed over my face and whistled in my ears. Soon the surf would rise and the men and women, teenagers and kids, locals and tourists alike, would show up in their wetsuits, surfboards tucked under their arms, to launch themselves into the sea and take on the waves. But for now, the beach was just for me. The faint sound of a siren started up in the distance.
I began to formulate a plan to get Renee to forgive me for what I’d done at the formal afterparty. Mum was right: we’d been friends all our lives; we were beyond the stale cliché of letting a boy come between us. And anyway, she and Daniel had broken up. We’d both be in Adelaide next year. There’d be plenty of time to reconnect and become friends again.
It was only as I reached the concrete steps that I realised the sirens had grown louder, and that others had joined them. They sounded close. Foreboding sprouted inside me. Mavis Johnson passed me on the steps, her little white Maltese Shih tzu straining at the end of the lead. She paused and looked back. ‘There must be a fire nearby. Look at that smoke.’
I followed her gaze. Black smoke belched above the buildings of the main street, staining the perfect blue expanse of the sky. Still more sirens joined the others. The bottom of my stomach dropped out. I shoved my feet back into my thongs and ran across the Esplanade. Five fire trucks had colonised the main street; the firefighters in their white helmets and heavy uniforms shouted orders as they unfurled the giant fire hoses. My heart leapt as I took in the flames that burned bright behind the cafe windows. How could this have happened? I was so sure I’d turned off that sandwich press. The brief pocket of peace I’d found on the beach was drowned by the dull roar that was coming from inside.
‘Stand back, love!’ one of the firefighters called out to me, and I fell back to the other side of the street with the small knot of curious locals that had accumulated there. It looked like the flames had spread to the vacant shop next door, the one Scott had talked about buying.
Then a car screeched to a halt nearby. Scott threw himself out, a look of anguish on his face. Before anyone could stop him, he’d run across the street and through the cafe door.
‘You can’t go in there, you bloody idiot!’ one of the firefighters shouted.
‘Someone call an ambulance!’ another shouted across at us.
Paul Potts announced with somewhat inappropriate pride, considering the situation, that he had a mobile phone, and he called triple zero while the rest of us watched with mute horror as the firefighters poured into the building. My heart pounded painfully against my chest. I had the urge to flee, but I couldn’t tear myself away while Scott was in there. No one was supposed to get hurt. There wasn’t even supposed to be a fire. What had I done?
Then there was a cracking sound from inside, followed by a crash. ‘The beam’s come down!’ came a muffled shout. One of the firefighters ran out and pulled up his visor. ‘Has someone called that ambulance?’ The edge of desperation in his voice clamped my throat with sickening terror.
At last more sirens approached. An ambulance pulled up and two paramedics leapt out. The firefighter who’d yelled out at us was talking to them as they got a stretcher out of the back of the ambulance, his words just loud enough for us to hear from across the street. ‘I think it’s a spinal injury. The beam fell on his neck so we couldn’t move him.’
A few people around me gasped. ‘We should let Jodie know,’ someone said, and there were murmurs of assent.
‘Maybe you should go home, love?’ A gentle hand landed on my shoulder, and I looked up to see Bob Keen’s kindly face. ‘This is no place for a young girl like you.’
His words sent sensation back into my limbs. I nodded. ‘OK. Yeah.’
I jogged down the street towards the Esplanade. When I looked back, the paramedics were carrying the stretcher back to the ambulance. Scott lay motionless on it, a brace around his neck.
NOW
Layla stared at Jodie. ‘Kerosene?’ she repeated.
Jodie’s eyes widened. ‘You mean that wasn’t you?’
Layla shook her head.
‘The police found the empty tins in the dumpster in the alley, but there were no fingerprints,’ Jodie said. ‘Scott was never charged because they couldn’t prove anything, and it didn’t make sense that he’d run into a burning building that he’d set alight himself.’
An enormous wave of relief washed over Layla, almost taking her breath away. She hadn’t been responsible. All this time she’d punished herself, and she hadn’t caused the fire after all. She felt like dancing in the street, but she’d promised Jodie she’d listen to what she had to say. ‘Why did he go in?’
She shrugged. ‘He never told me. Maybe he kept a stash of money in there so he could leave me, who knows?’ She gave a barking sort of laugh. ‘Regardless, we lost everything. Insurance wouldn’t pay out because they claimed it was arson. We could’ve fought them on it, but we were all in such a state of shock after the accident. Then there was rehabilitation, and therapy, and I had to give up my job to care for him. The money we had ran out pretty quickly.’
Layla took a sip of her coffee, but it had gone cold now, so she placed the cup down on the coffee table. ‘You’ve cared for him yourself all these years?’
Jodie nodded. All the anger seemed to have drained out of her now. ‘For a while, there was hope that he might walk again, but that didn’t happen. Then a few months ago, I put my back out and I couldn
’t lift him anymore. Claire – my daughter – helped out where she could, but then she got pregnant and I couldn’t ask her to do it either. And he’s started having some heart problems, so he needs constant care. At least I was able to get a job again, but it’s only part-time, and most of his disability pension goes to the nursing home. I do get a bit of extra help, but there’s not much left over after the mortgage and bills.’
At last, Layla understood. She may not have been responsible for the fire or Scott’s accident, but Jodie still wanted her to know how it had felt to see Layla escape Glasswater Bay while she’d had her chance at happiness plucked away from her at the very last minute, leaving her living a life she didn’t want for twenty years. Guilty tears came to her eyes. ‘I’m sorry.’
Jodie laughed again. ‘Well, it turns out it wasn’t your fault after all, was it?’
‘But all this time you thought it was. Why didn’t you tell the police you’d seen me come out of the cafe? Why didn’t you come after me earlier?’
She shrugged. ‘Honestly? I don’t know. I guess in a way I didn’t actually blame you for what I thought you’d done. I know what he was like – I figured he must have messed you up pretty bad for you to do something like that. You’d always been such a good, responsible girl. Well, up to a point, anyway.’
The Girl She Was Page 28