“I can’t do this anymore.” Leilah wound herself tighter and tighter with her defeatism as she flung her possessions into the suitcase. “I shouldn’t be here. Someone always ruins it for me.” The expensive stilettos looked incongruous against the chequered shirts and jeans in the case, highlighting the disparity between her old life and new. “They don’t fit!” she cried in exasperation. “Nothing fits!” The eight hundred dollar shoes mocked her, refusing to blend and reminding her how impossible it proved to meld Dee Hanover with Leilah Dereham. Harvey’s presence in town reminded her of her old self, forcing her to acknowledge a life she’d happily stepped out of. Something had to give.
In confusion, Leilah snatched up the sandals and stomped down the hallway to the kitchen, wrenching open the cupboard under the sink and shoving them into the bin. The toes poked out over the lip of the bucket in horror, eyeing her crime with something like surprise. Leilah slammed the door on them and swished back down the hallway to her room, damp hair creating an uncomfortable dark patch on the back of Vaughan’s borrowed denim shirt. She dragged dusty boots over bare feet and seized the handle of the suitcase, dragging it noisily into the hallway. Her phone rang and she pulled it from her jeans pocket, watching the screen stutter in complaint at the limited reception despite the new sim card. Seline’s image showed on the screen along with her name and phone number.
“Hey, baby.” Leilah made her voice sound bright. “How are you?” The connection disappeared as the reception fluctuated and Leilah felt her tenuous hold on reality wane. She dialled Seline’s number, watching the icon flicker as technology tried to link her with her child and then loudly beeped its failure. “Oh, bloody hell!” Leilah stuffed her phone into her pocket, feeling the looseness of her clothing and realising how much weight she’d lost in the last few months. Her routine at the Auckland gym proved lacking against fresh air, running around the farm and working with horses.
‘Horses keep yer well.’ Her father’s voice growled back at her from the past as he flexed enormous biceps in her memory to make her giggle. Her hero worship of Hector came back to bite her, bringing with it the fresh-blood-scent of having disappointed him. ‘Youse don’t need flash equipment, just chase a colt on a lunge rope and you’ll be perfect, girly.’
Girly. Hector called her girly and Vaughan’s use of the word took her back into her past, rewinding until the memories bit at her soul. She inhaled and closed her eyes, using oxygen to draw strength and finding it lacking. Girly. Vaughan’s marriage proposal took Leilah’s breath away, hearing those words for the third time in her life. Michael’s plea for marriage was heartfelt and saved her from single motherhood and Leilah accepted with eagerness.
But even Michael didn’t know about the first and she kept the memory secret in her breast. She remembered her lover’s brawny arms as he picked her up in the paddock down by the stream and married her in the summer and in the sight of God. He put flowers in her hair and acted as both vicar and groom, saying the words as his eyes shone with naked hunger. Deleilah Dereham giggled as he said her full name and pronounced them man and wife. He removed every stitch of her clothing and they consummated their fake marriage with eagerness and excitement. ‘I love being married to you,’ he said, his eyes bright with the illusion as he rolled her on top of him on the flowery marriage bed of clover and buttercups. ‘Promise me you’ll stay with me? No matter what your dad thinks.’ His eyes begged her and Leilah brushed his fringe from his eyes, kissing his soft lips and moaning as his fingers explored.
Leilah grabbed at the doorframe, wishing with all her heart she could go back to that day and stay there. Stay there making love over and over again, bathing in the stream and doing it again, returning home exhausted with an ache between her legs and a full heart after stolen kisses at the bottom of the driveway.
Passing Vaughan’s open door, Leilah paused. The unmade double bed taunted her, infusing her with memories of his sex appeal and betrayal as he abandoned his marital bed for hers. Leilah balled her fists and approached the bed, her fingers stroking the dented pillow nearest the door. She lifted it and pressed it to her face, his masculine smell mingling with the scent of stale male deodorant. She felt her heart soften and her resolve weaken until she caught sight of his wife’s photo propped up on the dresser. The blonde woman’s eyes looked accusingly from the wooden frame, clutching Vaughan’s arm with fearful possession. Leilah tilted her chin upwards. “You can keep your husband,” she said. “He didn’t mean it.”
Laying the pillow gently on the bed, Leilah turned and left the house, dragging her suitcase behind her down the rugged steps, the shoes and the remains of Dee Hanover in the dustbin of the rickety cottage.