The Favour

by Rebecca Freeborn

  ‘In which case I’ll be back up here straight away.’

  Ethan gave her a pat on the bum as she got up from the couch. ‘Go on, then. I’ll make sure I’m ready for you when you get back.’

  She couldn’t help smiling as she skipped lightly down the stairs. Really, she couldn’t blame him for being a bit miffed. It had been a while since they’d last had sex. Long enough that she couldn’t remember whether it’d been weeks or months. It hadn’t been intentional, but they were both always so tired, and they usually went to bed at different times, more ships in the night than husband and wife. Most of the time, sex seemed like more trouble than it was worth, but being here, away from home and their usual responsibilities, she was more in the mood than she could remember being in for ages. Once she’d made sure that Quinn was OK, she could return to her husband and forget about everything else.

  Quinn wasn’t in her bedroom, but the bathroom door was closed and a chink of light escaped from beneath it. There was silence from within. Hannah stood with her ear against the door for a moment, but all she could hear was the slow drip, drip of water. Foreboding spasmed through her as she raised her hand to knock on the door.

  ‘Come in, Hannah.’ Quinn’s voice was thick, slurred.

  Hannah turned the handle and opened the door. Quinn lay in the bath, her head tilted back to rest on the edge. A watercolour landscape of mascara shadowed her cheekbones. Her eyes were closed. Her naked skin shimmered beneath the water. Hannah tried not to recoil at the sight of the bruises that branded the terrain of her body, her most private places. She closed the door behind her with a gentle click.

  ‘Are you OK?’ Her voice shook with the redundant question.

  Quinn opened her eyes. They were red-rimmed, luminous with a combination of intoxication and a deep hopelessness that stuck in Hannah’s heart and gave a sickening twist.

  ‘What am I going to do?’ Quinn said. ‘Where do I go from here?’

  Hannah sat down on the edge of the bath. ‘What happened with that guy?’

  ‘I just wanted things to go back to the way they were,’ Quinn said dully. ‘I wanted to feel good again. Is that so wrong?’

  ‘No.’ Hannah put a hand on Quinn’s shoulder. ‘It’s not wrong.’

  ‘It didn’t work. I couldn’t go through with it.’

  Hannah bit her lip to prevent the relief from showing on her face as she rubbed Quinn’s shoulder.

  ‘Nothing’s ever going to be normal again, is it?’ Twin tears slid down Quinn’s cheeks.

  ‘It will,’ Hannah said. ‘It might not feel like it now, and it’ll take time, but you will heal.’

  ‘I didn’t even fight him, Hannah.’ Quinn’s eyes turned to Hannah’s, her expression wretched. ‘The things he did to me … I didn’t want it, but—’ She stopped abruptly and shook her head. ‘I was raped less than a week ago and I’m already looking for sex again. What kind of a fuck-up does that make me?’

  Hannah knelt beside the bath and put her arms around Quinn’s naked body. ‘You’re not a fuck-up, and you didn’t deserve this.’

  Quinn returned her embrace, her wet body soaking Hannah’s shirt. ‘So why do I feel like this is my punishment?’

  ‘Because it’s hard,’ Hannah said into her wet hair. ‘And it’ll probably always be hard. But you don’t have to do this alone.’

  Quinn didn’t let Hannah go as she told her what had happened with Patrick, how afterwards she had felt too ashamed to come back to the beach house, so she’d stayed at the pub for hours. How she’d walked back in the dark up Carrickalinga Road, with only the torch on her phone to see by, flinching as cars had roared by her, expecting at any minute to trip and fall onto the road, her body smashed into the bitumen by a passing car. And Hannah held onto her. Finally, when goosebumps had risen on Quinn’s back, Hannah sat back on her heels.

  ‘You should get out before you get too cold.’ She stood and grabbed the towel from the rail and held it up for Quinn to step into.

  Hannah waited in the living room while Quinn dried and dressed. The squeal of water swirling down the drain was the only noise. Her hands were shaking. She’d never seen Quinn look so lost, so small and alone. Was this what Hannah had looked like when she’d fallen apart? And Quinn had never given up on her; not for a second. She owed it to her to do the same.

  Quinn emerged from her bedroom wearing an old T-shirt. Her eyes were still watery, but she’d scrubbed away the remnants of her make-up, leaving her face raw and pink.

  ‘Here.’ Hannah filled a glass with water and handed it to her. ‘Drink this.’

  Quinn did as she was told, more compliant than Hannah had ever seen her. When she’d finished, she handed the glass back to Hannah like an obedient child.

  ‘Come to bed.’ Hannah put a hand on her back and guided her into her bedroom. Quinn peeled back the covers and slid under, then pulled them up to her chin. Hannah sat down on the edge of the bed and put a hand on her face.

  Quinn’s lips pressed together, holding in her emotions. ‘I can’t stop thinking that maybe I asked for this.’

  ‘You didn’t, Quinn. You didn’t.’

  ‘But the way I’ve lived my life … It’s not the way people are supposed to be.’

  ‘Since when have you cared about the way people are supposed to be? What you did before this doesn’t matter. What you do after this doesn’t matter.’

  Tears stood in Quinn’s eyes. ‘I feel like I invited it in.’

  Hannah stroked her face, steeling herself to bring up the topic she’d avoided for so long. ‘Do you remember, after the … after the accident, when I almost dropped out of uni?’

  Quinn’s wet head nodded against the pillow.

  ‘Well, I’d convinced myself that I’d caused everything that happened. Because I’d slept with my tutor … because he was married … and because I kept sleeping with him so I could get good grades. I was despicable.’

  A tiny smile touched Quinn’s lips. ‘You weren’t despicable, Hannah. You were young, and he was trading grades for blow jobs. He was the one who deserved punishment.’

  A bitter laugh escaped Hannah. ‘Well, he got it, didn’t he?’

  They didn’t speak for a few minutes. Hannah smoothed Quinn’s damp hair back from her forehead. There was a wet patch on the pillow surrounding her head. She looked like a little girl, lying there like that, looking up at Hannah. She looked like she had when they’d first met, timid and wild, when all Hannah had wanted was to be entangled with her, to be part of her. A primal rush of love coursed through her.

  ‘You’re going to be OK,’ she said. ‘I’m here for you, just like you were for me. Any time you need me, even if it’s two years from now, you call me, OK?’

  Quinn nodded. Her eyelids looked heavy now.

  ‘Close your eyes,’ Hannah said. ‘I’ll stay here until you’re asleep.’

  She watched her friend as her eyes sank closed and her breathing began to deepen. Finally, when her chest was rising and falling in sleep, Hannah rose from the bed. She’d just reached the doorway when Quinn spoke. ‘Thank you, Hannah.’ But when she looked back, Quinn was already asleep again.

  When Hannah finally got into bed beside Ethan, he immediately rolled over and took her into his arms. ‘Thought you were only going to be a few minutes?’

  Hannah sighed. ‘She’s in a really bad way.’

  ‘Mmmm.’ Ethan started kissing her neck.

  ‘She got on Tinder while I was in the bathroom at the pub and started messaging some guy,’ Hannah went on. ‘When he showed up, I was so angry that I walked out. She needed me, and I just left her there.’

  Ethan pulled up her singlet and fondled her breast. ‘Well, she’s here now, isn’t she? I told you she could look after herself. Can I take this off?’

  She let him pull the singlet over her head, but she could still only think about Quinn. ‘I’m really worried about her.’

  Ethan’s mouth moved back and forth between her breasts. ‘If she’s alrea
dy bonking other men she couldn’t be too cut up about it.’

  Hannah shrank away from him. ‘But don’t you see? This is her way of shutting out what happened. It’s not healthy.’

  He reached for her again, slipping a hand down the front of her shorts. ‘Can we please not talk about Quinn’s sex life right now? I’d rather get on with ours.’

  ‘For Christ’s sake, Ethan, do you ever think about anyone but yourself?’ Hannah sat up in the bed. ‘Quinn was raped. Can you really not understand how serious this is?’

  Ethan sighed. ‘Look, I feel bad for her and all, but our lives can’t just stop because of it. I was really looking forward to this. I’ve been lying here thinking about you for the last hour while you’ve been downstairs with her.’

  ‘Trying to stop her from going off the rails! Sorry if that’s not such an aphrodisiac for me.’

  Ethan gave a kind of huff and rolled over to face away from her. ‘Nothing’s an aphrodisiac for you these days,’ he muttered.

  Hannah stared at the dark shape of him silhouetted against the faint light filtering through the curtain, and hated him. She remembered what it had been like when she and Quinn had first met. How their blossoming friendship had felt like falling in love, how the butterflies had danced in her belly when she knew she was going to see her, the hollow ache of being apart from her. How she’d never felt any of that with Ethan, even in the early days of their relationship, how she’d wanted a normal life so badly that she’d convinced herself he was the one when part of her had known all along that he’d just been there at the right time. She wanted to lash out at him, to tell him all of this, but she’d got herself into this life, and starting a fight with him now wouldn’t achieve anything. Besides, being down there with Quinn, absorbing her pain, had drained the life out of her. She had nothing left for tonight. She found her singlet halfway down the bed under the quilt, put it back on and lay down.

  When she emerged from the bedroom the next morning, she was surprised to find Ethan and Quinn in the kitchen together, cooking pancakes. Quinn looked better this morning: her eyes were clear; her teeth flashed white in her face as she laughed at something Ethan had said. It was like sleep had cleansed her and she had been reborn, leaving behind her trauma like a shed skin.

  ‘Am I in a parallel universe?’ Hannah said, rubbing her eyes.

  ‘Hi.’ Ethan put an arm around her waist and kissed her on the cheek. ‘Want a pancake?’

  ‘Sure.’

  She was bewildered by this change in Ethan. Last night’s sleep must have been transformative for both of them; as for Hannah, she felt like she’d been run over by a truck. But seeing her husband and her friend, not only cooking together but apparently enjoying one another’s company, was improving her mood rapidly. Quinn flipped a pancake out of the frying pan and onto a plate and handed it to Ethan, who squeezed a lemon quarter over it and sprinkled it with sugar, just the way Hannah liked it. He passed her the plate with a smile.

  At the dining table, the kids were scoffing their maple-syrup-soaked pancakes at a rapid rate. As Hannah sat down, she noticed with surprise that all three of them were dressed. Normally when Ethan let her sleep in, they’d be dishevelled and still in their pyjamas when she got up. What had gotten into him?

  She watched as Ethan handed Quinn a plate of pancakes and turned back to the stove to make his own. Quinn came over and sat down next to Hannah.

  ‘What did you do with my husband and who is that strange man in the kitchen?’ Hannah said.

  Quinn laughed and leant towards her to whisper in her ear. ‘He and I had a little chat this morning.’

  Hannah stared at her in amazement. ‘You are a sorceress.’

  ‘Well, it remains to be seen whether he sticks it out past lunchtime. Take advantage of it while you can.’

  ‘How are you feeling this morning? You seem better.’

  Quinn’s smile faltered. ‘Better-ish. I have to get on with things, don’t I?’

  They ate their pancakes, watching the children as they bickered and laughed and left sticky maple-syrup marks over everything. When Ethan came over to join them at the table, Quinn got up.

  ‘Come on, kids!’ she said. ‘Let’s go outside and kick the ball around.’

  If Hannah had proposed the same thing, they would’ve come up with three different things they’d rather do, but Quinn had cool auntie status, so they all followed her eagerly down the stairs. When the front door closed on their shrieks of excitement, Ethan turned to Hannah.

  ‘Sorry I was such a dickhead last night,’ he said. ‘I know I don’t appreciate you enough. I’m going to try to help out more.’

  ‘What exactly did Quinn say to you?’

  ‘She called me a dickhead and told me to appreciate you more.’ He laughed. ‘And she was right.’

  Hannah could hardly believe her ears. Last night, it had felt like her marriage was over; this morning, hope was alive once again. ‘Since when do you listen to Quinn?’

  ‘Since she told me I’d lose you if I didn’t treat you better.’ He put a hand on her thigh. ‘I don’t want to lose you.’

  Hannah took his hand in hers and squeezed. ‘You’re not going to lose me. And you’re definitely getting some tonight.’

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  QUINN

  They’d just finished lunch the following day when Quinn’s phone rang. Her chest went cold. No one had contacted her since Boxing Day (unless she counted Tinder Guy – and she didn’t), and this intrusion from the real world was unwelcome. She got up from the dining table and went downstairs before answering.

  ‘Ms Stafford? This is Constable Byrne from the Norwood Police Station, how are you?’

  Anger flashed through Quinn. ‘Well, I got raped six days ago, Constable Byrne, so I’m feeling pretty shitty right now. And yourself?’

  ‘I just wanted to give you an update on the case. We’ve had Mr Mandalay in for questioning, and unfortunately at this stage we have insufficient evidence to charge him.’

  Tentacles wrapped around Quinn’s neck, robbing her breath.

  ‘Why?’ Her voice came out sounding strangled. ‘Did he deny it? What about the forensic evidence?’

  ‘It takes some time for the forensic evidence to come back.’ Constable Byrne hesitated. ‘But no, he didn’t deny that the sex occurred.’

  ‘Rape,’ she said. ‘Rape, not sex.’

  ‘We’d like you to come back into the station to answer some more questions,’ he said. ‘Some further evidence has come to light that we need to investigate.’

  ‘Further evidence? What are you talking about?’

  ‘I’d rather discuss it in person and get it all on the record. When can you come in?’

  ‘You said you believed me.’ Quinn’s voice quivered. ‘You said I did the right thing, reporting it.’

  The constable cleared his throat. ‘Yes, well, these things are never easy. If you could come in this afternoon or tomorrow, hopefully we can get all this cleared up as soon as possible.’

  ‘I’m away with a friend. She drove me here. I’m not sure I can get back today.’

  ‘Tomorrow is fine if that suits you. Shall we say eleven?’

  Quinn nodded numbly.

  ‘Ms Stafford?

  ‘Sorry. Yes. Eleven is fine.’

  She hung up and stared at the phone in her hand. What had he meant by further evidence? What had Simon told them? Whatever it was, she had the feeling they no longer believed her story. He was going to remain free while she walked around with this giant kettlebell manacled to her neck for the rest of her life. She would have to quit her job, or continue working under him while being seen as the woman who’d lied about being assaulted. There was no denying that she’d been inappropriate with him on occasion. Anyone who’d seen them together over the last ten years would’ve noticed the spark between them. It would be easy to believe that she’d gone too far down that path, that she’d needed an excuse to explain her mistake. And he’d know, forever af
ter, that he’d taken something from her that she could never get back. He’d know that she would flinch every time he walked into the room. He would love having that power over her.

  She grabbed up a cushion from the couch and pressed it to her face. ‘Fuck!’ she screamed into its cottony mass. ‘Fuck you fuck you fuck you, you fucking fucking cunt!’

  Hannah’s feet came softly down the stairs. The two women stared at one another from across the room.

  ‘What happened?’ Hannah asked. ‘Was that the police?’

  ‘They couldn’t charge him.’ Quinn’s words came out sharp and clipped. ‘There was insufficient evidence, but there was also further evidence … whatever that means. They want me to go in and answer more questions. I have to go through all that again and then they won’t believe me anyway because his word is worth more than that of a worthless slut like me.’

  Hannah didn’t move from where she stood, her expression uncertain. Quinn had the sudden urge to shove her against the wall.

  ‘Do you want me to drive you back to Adelaide?’ Hannah asked. ‘I’ll go with you to the station.’

  Quinn swallowed her rage, closed her eyes and took a breath in through her nose. This wasn’t Hannah’s fault. ‘I need to get back by eleven tomorrow. Don’t interrupt your holiday; I’ll see if I can hire a car or something.’

  Hannah shook her head. ‘No. I’ll drive you back in the morning. You shouldn’t go through this alone.’

  Pressure was building inside Quinn’s head. She had to get out of here or she was going to lose her fucking shit. She gave a curt nod. ‘Thanks.’

  ‘Come back upstairs with us,’ Hannah said. ‘When you’re ready. Let’s have a relaxing afternoon and forget about all this for today. Ethan brought a really nice bottle of red from home. We were thinking of opening it tonight.’

  Oh, fucking Ethan. Quinn regretted giving him that talking-to yesterday morning now. She should’ve just stood back and watched their marriage implode, but she’d had this stupid impulse to do something good for once. And now she’d have to hear about what a wonderful husband and father he was for however long it took before he decided he couldn’t be arsed again.