One Summer Between Friends

by Trish Morey

  ‘You did say you were drinking.’

  ‘But that’s no kind of defence for wanting to forget all about my marriage vows, surely?’

  Sarah shrugged. ‘I don’t know if I can help. I was so crazy about Richard I was never tempted to stray. And then, once we started IVF, there was no time to think about anything, least of all anyone, else.’ She paused, and then reached out a hand to Floss. ‘What are you going to do?’

  ‘I don’t know. What can I do? But it got me thinking,’ Floss said, not waiting for an answer. ‘I judged Jules for sleeping with Richard. I cut her out of my life because she could—and he could—trash his wedding vows. But when it all comes down to it, am I any better than she is? Who am I to judge?’

  ‘It’s not the same thing,’ said Sarah, whipping her hand away and flipping through her wallet, looking for a note to cover her coffees and extracting a ten before stuffing her wallet back in her bag. ‘It’s not the same thing at all. You were probably drunk and he took advantage of you. It wasn’t like you had sex with your best friend’s husband.’ Sarah sniffed. ‘When it all comes down to it, you didn’t have sex at all.’

  ‘But I could have. I could see how it could easily happen.’

  ‘But you didn’t. I’m sorry,’ she said, standing up. ‘I’ve got to get back to the shop.’

  ‘But—’

  ‘Listen, Floss, I’m forever grateful that you’ve forgiven me for being such a cow to you. But when it comes to Jules, you have to do what you have to do. I want to be your friend, but don’t try to take me with you. I can’t go there.’

  Floss nodded numbly as Sarah leaned down, kissing her on the cheek. ‘It’s okay,’ she said. ‘It didn’t happen, so stop torturing yourself. You didn’t do it, and who cares whatever the reason why? You didn’t do it. That’s the important thing.’

  That at least raised a weak smile to Floss’s lips.

  Sarah smiled back. ‘Same time next week?’

  And with a nod of Floss’s head, Sarah was gone.

  ‘How’s my favourite girl?’ Andy said as he arrived home.

  Floss looked up from where she was peeling potatoes. ‘You sound bright,’ she said. Brighter than he normally did when he got home from work.

  ‘You better believe it,’ he said, slipping his arms around her waist and nuzzling her neck.

  ‘What are you up to?’ she asked, secretly delighted. It had been an age since Andy had been anywhere near as playful.

  ‘You’ll just have to wait to find out,’ he said, as one of his hands slid up to cup a breast.

  ‘Oh, gross,’ said Annie. ‘Get a room, you two.’

  Andy turned and grinned at her. ‘Nice to see you too, Annie.’

  Mikey came running in next. ‘Daddy,’ he squealed as he charged into his father’s legs.

  Andy laughed as he picked him up and gave him a hug. ‘Come on,’ he said, ‘let’s go find your brothers.’

  Annie and Floss stared after him a while. ‘What’s up with Dad?’

  ‘I have no idea,’ said Floss. But whatever it was, she liked it.

  He was reading his book when she got to bed that night. Bugger, she thought, that was short-lived.

  But he put his book down and turned off his light. ‘I thought you were never going to get here.’

  ‘You were waiting for me?’

  ‘Yeah,’ he said, pulling her into his arms. ‘I’ve got a surprise for you.’

  Floss was surprised, all right. And delighted and breathless and well and truly satisfied. She lay there in the afterglow of the best sex she’d had for months—maybe years, come to think of it. Andy’s chin rested on her head and she pressed her lips to his chest, slick and salty with sweat. Delicious.

  ‘I’m worried,’ she said, still panting as her body hummed back to earth.

  ‘About what?’

  ‘I think someone stole my husband.’

  He chuckled a little, then he sighed and kissed her head. ‘I’m sorry, Floss. I didn’t realise things were that bad. Not until you told me Annie thought we might be getting divorced.’

  She pushed herself back from his chest so she could see his face. ‘I don’t understand.’

  ‘I tried to ignore it,’ he said. ‘I’m thirty-eight. Too young for, well, you know. And I sure wasn’t going to go see our doctor here and ask about it. A mate put me onto his doctor in Port Macquarie.’

  ‘What are you talking about? Too young for what?’

  ‘Jeez, Floss, don’t make me say it.’ He sighed, and pinched the bridge of his nose with his fingers. ‘Erectile dysfunction. I couldn’t get it up, and if I did, I couldn’t keep it up. And the more I worried about it, the worse it got and the grumpier I got.’

  ‘I thought you didn’t want to make love to me.’

  ‘I know. I’m sorry, Floss. I couldn’t. And I couldn’t tell you. I didn’t want to admit it.’

  She kissed him and nestled against his shoulder, her hand skimming over his chest and abdomen. ‘You poor thing. I’m sorry I gave you a hard time.’

  ‘Not your fault. If I’d known how easy it was to do something about it.’ He snorted. ‘Thirty-eight years old and already needing Viagra. It’s all downhill from here, babe.’

  Floss’s hand encountered her second surprise of the night. She wrapped her fingers around him. ‘You don’t feel all downhill to me.’

  Breath hissed through his teeth. He pulled her closer. ‘You don’t mind if we do it again?’

  And Floss knew there really was a Santa Claus.

  39

  The days rolled into weeks, and suddenly three weeks were gone and Jules could start counting down on the fingers of one hand. Just like the nurses had predicted, the skin of her breast had started to tan. A rash appeared one day and disappeared over the weekend only to reappear. Still, she thought she was getting out of it pretty lightly until her nipple started to crack. It was painful, like starting to breastfeed all over again. Barrier cream became her best friend.

  Her calls home only made her more impatient to get there. Every time they skyped, Della would solemnly cross off another day on a calendar, drawing ever closer to the day her mother was due to come home. And Jules would search for signs that Pru was still coping. All the hanging around in Sydney, all the waiting for her treatment to finish, dragged heavily on her bones.

  If she hadn’t discovered knitting, if Molly hadn’t blessed her with this gift and taught her the basic stitches, she would have gone stir-crazy by now. When she wasn’t undergoing treatment, or visiting her now favourite yarn store, her fingers were forever busy. She’d finished her mother’s shawl and another jumper for Della, a special surprise, and she couldn’t wait to see their faces when they unwrapped their gifts.

  She’d all but abandoned any thought of chasing up administration courses. That would have to wait. Because now she’d embarked on her craziest project of all, one she was determined to finish in time for Christmas. The figures might be tiny, but they were proving challenging, and she was learning new skills in the process, embroidering faces and stitching the tiny robes together. But she was loving the distraction from the everyday monotony.

  And at least she’d have something concrete to show for her time away.

  40

  Dot progressed from her walking frame to a walking stick on the same day Noah’s term on the island expired. Sarah was at the airport to see him off.

  ‘When will I see you?’ he asked.

  ‘I’ll be back in Sydney in a couple of months.’

  He smiled at her and said, ‘I don’t know if I can wait that long,’ then he kissed her, long and hard, right there in the departure area, uncaring that anyone could see, before he exited the gate and headed for the waiting plane. He waved from the top of the stairs and she felt sad that he was leaving, but she felt good too, because she knew it wasn’t the end, just the end of the beginning.

  That night, her mother’s mood was markedly improved. She even complimented Sarah on her lamb casserole a
nd didn’t snipe at her once; not one smug comment about Noah leaving, which Sarah had half expected. It made dinner actually quite pleasant for a change, Dot chatting about her successful doctor’s visit and Sam looking visibly relaxed with the improved atmosphere.

  But of course her mother would be happy, she was getting stronger by the day, the exercises she’d cursed at the beginning finally paying off. And Sarah also suspected Dot was cheered by the fact that she could see the end of her daughter’s problematic stay.

  It certainly cheered Sarah.

  When the phone rang, Sarah said, ‘I’ll get it.’

  ‘That’ll be Deirdre,’ said Dot. ‘She promised to call back tonight.’

  But it wasn’t Deirdre. It was Floss, asking Sarah if she could make it to coffee the next day. Sarah hadn’t heard from Floss for a few days, but she figured if Andy was back on the island, she’d have enough on her plate. Besides, they hadn’t really parted on great terms the last time they’d had coffee together.

  ‘Sure,’ Sarah said, ‘so long as Deirdre can cover for me. I’ll let you know.’

  ‘Why does Deirdre need to cover for you?’ Dot asked after Sarah had hung up.

  Sarah told her about Floss’s invitation.

  ‘Oh, pooh, I can cover for you.’

  ‘Are you sure?’ asked Sam. ‘It’s been months.’

  ‘Of course I’m sure. It’ll do me good having a turn around the store. Be just like old times.’

  Which is how Sarah found herself sitting next to Floss at Halfway the next morning. Sarah wondered whether Floss was going to have another shot at attempting a reconciliation between her and Jules, but instead Floss said, ‘You know I told you about—you know, that bloke?’

  Sarah knew.

  ‘The thing is, do I tell Andy about it? Do you think I should?’

  ‘Oh.’ Well, there was a hairy one. ‘How are things between you and Andy now?’

  Floss smiled so hard she blushed. ‘So good. The best they’ve been for years. He’s like a horny teenager all over again.’

  Sarah smiled. Floss had poked her hair behind her ears as she’d said it, looking every bit the horny teenager herself. ‘In which case, do you really want to put that at risk?’

  ‘God, no. I mean, things were really rough between Andy and me, and even though I didn’t have sex with this other guy, I was so tempted.’

  ‘And I guess he’d be angry hearing it, right?’

  ‘Why wouldn’t he be? I kissed another man—and I thought about doing more—that’s all kinds of unfaithful, right there.’ She swallowed. ‘But worse than that, I know he’d be disappointed in me. I could deal with the anger, I could understand that. It’s the disappointment that would kill me. I couldn’t bear it now, not when things are finally looking up.

  ‘What do I do? Should I tell him? I want to be honest with him—I know I should be able to be—but I’m scared of what might happen. I’m scared I’ll lose him for good.’

  Sarah took a deep breath. She was woefully unqualified to give the kind of advice Floss needed. All she could think of was to try to tackle it from a different direction. ‘I often wonder what would have happened to us all if Jules hadn’t got pregnant. I mean, if she and Richard had slept together, but they’d never said a word about it to anyone, and Richard had come home and they’d both pretended it had never happened.

  ‘Because it was the baby that changed things. It was the baby—Richard’s baby—that meant it couldn’t stay a secret. Because he insisted on Jules having it. There was no hiding their betrayal then.’ Sarah looked intently at Floss. ‘You would never have known, for a start. You would have stayed friends with Jules all these years. And I would never have known. I mean, things might have been a bit strained and awkward between us all for a while, but look at you and me now. And we were all so used to Richard and Jules sniping at each other that we might not have picked it. Would that have been better? Two of us in blissful ignorance and we’d all remained friends?’

  Floss sat back, wide-eyed. ‘Are you saying I shouldn’t tell Andy?’

  Sarah sighed. ‘I don’t know. Maybe just that … sometimes wounds take a long time to heal, if they ever do. Maybe sometimes it’s better not to know.’

  Sarah’s words to Floss sat uncomfortably with her as she restocked shelves in the store. She wasn’t sure she believed them. She wasn’t sure she would want to live with a man who kept a secret like that. She certainly didn’t want a friend who could do that to her.

  Whatever Floss decided to do, it was better that Sarah knew about Richard and Jules. Neither of them had been able to hide from what they had done, and that was only fair.

  When the computer pinged, Sarah assumed it was a confirmation of the order she’d placed earlier, so it wasn’t until an hour or so later that she checked her email. She stared at it a few seconds, read it and reread it, and then punched the air. ‘Yes!’

  Her first tentative foray into the world of CVs and job applications had come up trumps: she was being invited for an interview. The firm was a medium-sized outfit on the North Shore, even closer to home than her former office in North Sydney. So what that it was a managerial position? From what she’d researched, the firm was young and dynamic, and light years away from the prehistoric world of Fortescue, Robbins and Lancaster.

  Better still, she wouldn’t have to wait an entire two months to see Noah again.

  41

  Jules climbed happily but wearily down the plane’s rear steps. Because she was still in her thirties, she’d assumed she’d take any of the side effects of radiotherapy in her stride. And yet she hadn’t counted on the stress of worrying about what was going on at home while she was away. She’d actually wept in the change room after her last treatment. A quiet shedding of tears of relief that it was over. And now she was exhausted, so completely drained of energy that she clung to the handrail for support.

  On the flipside, she’d never felt better in her life, because she was home, and there waiting for her in the arrivals area were Pru and Della. Her daughter was wearing the simple red jumper Jules had knitted her. Jules smiled, looking forward to seeing Della’s reaction to the latest treat she’d knitted her.

  ‘Mummy!’ squealed Della, jumping up and down and clapping her hands. ‘There’s Mummy!’

  It was all Jules could do not to break into a run and gather her girl up in her arms and squeeze her tight. Somewhere in the four weeks she’d been gone, winter had turned to spring, the sun felt warmer and the air held the promise of renewal. It had never felt better to be alive.

  ‘Mummy!’ Della cried again, as Jules came through the gate. She leaned down, successfully deflecting one of her daughter’s arms from going around her chest and looping it around her neck. Her breast was still sore, the skin feeling like it had been sunburned. It would heal though. A few sore spots on and around her breast were nothing compared to the feel of her daughter in her arms.

  ‘How are you feeling?’ said Pru, her voice and eyes filled with concern, rubbing Jules’s back as she released Della and stood.

  ‘Tired,’ Jules said, half wishing Della wasn’t here so she could tell her mother she was absolutely buggered. But only half wishing, because she’d wished Della away once before, and there was no way she was ever wishing her away again.

  ‘Let’s get you home then,’ said her mother, taking her cabin bag.

  Pru had soup on the stove with fresh bread and golden butter on the table, and the smell as Jules walked into her cottage was utterly heavenly.

  ‘I’ll just get a bowl of that for you,’ Pru said. ‘You look like you could do with a decent meal.’

  Jules could. Cooking had seemed too much of a chore while she’d been in Sydney, and especially in the last week or so, she just couldn’t be bothered. But the smell of her mother’s ham and vegetable soup had her drooling, even though it was nowhere near dinner time.

  But first things first. ‘I have something for both of you,’ Jules said, opening her luggage and ret
rieving the two packages.

  ‘What is it?’ asked Della, reaching out for hers, her eyes wide.

  ‘A surprise.’

  Della was bursting with excitement as she ripped at the paper. ‘Another one,’ she said, and Jules heard the slight tinge of disappointment in her daughter’s voice as she unfurled the blue jumper. A tinge of disappointment that turned into a squeal of delight when she found what Jules had knitted on the front. ‘Horny! You made me a Horny!’ And promptly ran into her bedroom to put it on.

  ‘Well, I never,’ Pru said. ‘However did you do that?’

  ‘I made a design from the picture you sent me. Almost went mad in the process, but I think it came up okay.’ To be fair, she’d only tackled the skull, with its prominent horns, big empty eye sockets and nose, but she was more than satisfied with the result. So was Della, from the way she came charging back into the room, proud as punch of her new jumper.

  ‘Remarkable,’ said Pru.

  ‘Open yours, Nana,’ said Della, and Pru obliged, much more carefully than Della had done, but no less delighted when she pulled the multi-shaded blue shawl from its wrapping. ‘Oh,’ she said, holding the knitted fabric to her face. ‘It’s exquisite. It’s so soft.’

  ‘It’s the possum fur,’ Jules said, ‘soft like angora but without the scratchiness. It’s got alpaca in the blend too, so it should be toasty warm.’

  ‘I love it,’ said her mother, wrapping the shawl around her shoulders. ‘It’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever owned.’

  Jules doubted it, but she accepted her mother’s hug of thanks, before Pru announced that Jules must eat.

  Della was gorgeously attentive, slathering butter on slices of bread for her, more than she could eat, but Della helped her there too, and polished them off.

  ‘Thank you, Mum,’ said Jules, after she’d eaten what she could, feeling her eyelids growing heavy and weariness dragging at her after the long day and the flight and the huge emotional release of coming home.