Alex looked longingly at the drinks on the table – Beth’s tangerine-hued peach Bellini and Cara’s chilled chenin blanc, like liquid, silky gold, levitating in the oversized balloon glass. Even the condensation looked delicious and Alex had a sudden urge to lick the glass.
Instead, she reached for her lemon, lime and bitters. Perhaps if she just pretended it was alcoholic …
‘Mmmmm … delicious,’ she said, wincing at the sweetness.
The pub was a terrible idea. Awful. Whose stupid idea was it?
Oh, right. Hers.
After the horrific meeting with Principal Ryan, she’d thought a quiet debrief over a sauvignon blanc was exactly what she needed. Preferably, in a venue far, far away from her too-reasonable husband and two less-than-reasonable sons.
It was only once she sent the text to Beth and Cara that Alex remembered something. The baby. No drinking. Not even one. An officious pamphlet from Dr Vin’s had informed her (with some glee, it seemed) that as little as one drink could affect her unborn child. What happened to one or two being quite acceptable? In the six years since Alex was last pregnant, it seemed the medical fraternity had gone and made a difficult nine months into a torturous one. Soon, pregnant women would be allowed nothing but air and vitamins. For a pregnant lady, organising a catch-up at the pub was as sensible as a gambling addict hosting a bingo night.
‘This is such fun! Great idea, Alex. We should do this more.’ Beth enthusiastically drained the last of her cocktail. ‘Ah.’ She exhaled. ‘I think I’ll have another. No one relying on me to be home in a hurry, after all.’ Her laugh was high-pitched and brittle above the growing buzz of the bar.
The Snowden was getting busy. And everyone was so thin and glamorous and young. It wasn’t the dim and dingy place Alex remembered from her last visit, but that was some time BC – before children. Now, it was like drinking in an IKEA catalogue. All blond wood, clean lines and happy, smiling Viking-type people.
‘Oh, good point.’ Cara gulped her wine. ‘I might have another too. Poppy’s with my parents for the night,’ she explained.
Alex looked from Cara to Beth. Usually, they barely drank anything at all. Were they rubbing it in? ‘We’re here for a business meeting, not to get plastered,’ she grumbled. ‘Has something happened? What’s going on with you two?’
‘Nothing,’ mumbled Cara.
‘Everything’s great!’ Beth studiously avoided Alex’s gaze.
Never mind. Whatever was bugging them, she would find out eventually.
‘All right then, let’s discuss this catering business idea that I need to talk you into doing, both for my sake and the sake of all culinarily challenged sisters, everywhere.’ She held up her phone. ‘This thing is bursting with emails from women like me who can’t stand cooking, don’t have time for it because they’re working their arses off, and yet feel ridiculously guilty for serving up frozen lasagne every week because it tastes like cardboard and is making their kids fat … well, that, and devices … but don’t get me started on screen-guilt. It’s a whole other therapy session.’ She took a breath.
‘I’m in,’ said Cara ‘I’m going to do it.’
‘Me too,’ said Beth. ‘If you’ll have me.’ She raised her eyebrows at Cara.
‘Oh, of course!’ Cara clasped Beth’s arm. ‘What do you think of the name Nourish for the business? I just thought of it while I was at Mum and Dad’s.’
‘It’s wonderful!’ exclaimed Beth. ‘Nourish sums it up brilliantly. Healthy, comforting food for the whole family. Perfect.’
Alex sat back and watched her two neighbours talk animatedly about recipe ideas, the equipment they might need and how to go about getting the necessary food preparation licence for their kitchens. Her eyes narrowed. Before, they’d been so unsure about the idea. So uncertain. Now, they were talking like it was going to be bigger than McDonald’s.
‘Because I sometimes use the shed for shoots, I’ve actually already got it set up as a licensed food premises,’ said Cara.
Beth clapped her hands. ‘Excellent! I’ve got a deep freezer in the garage for storage, and I’ll get a permit for my kitchen as well.’
‘Include mine too,’ Alex joined in. ‘Someone may as well get use out of the double ovens.’
Cara and Beth looked at her and blinked, like they’d forgotten she was there. The meeting was her idea! And while she’d done it on the pretext of discussing the business, what she really needed was their input on the twins and what to do about them. Cara and Beth were two of the most devoted mothers she knew. They would understand the gravity of what Annabelle Ryan was suggesting. They would be shocked, appalled and no doubt sympathetic.
‘Sorry, I know you’re excited about this, but I need to tell you about my terrible day,’ Alex announced.
Beth sat up straight. ‘Is it the twins? The baby?’
‘The baby’s fine.’ Alex began. ‘Well, apart from the timing … but it’s the twins’ principal. We met with her today, and she seems to have Noah pegged as a psychopath in training.’ She paused. ‘She thinks he should go back and repeat kindy.’
‘Oh,’ said Beth. ‘That is bad.’ She paused. ‘But it’s not the worst thing in the world. They’ll still be at the same school. It’s not like they’ll never see each other again. It’s not like they’re … breaking up.’ She choked a little over the words.
Alex glared. ‘Actually, it is a very big deal.’ She stabbed at the ice in the bottom of her stupid soft drink. ‘Noah and Jasper need each other.’ Stab, stab. ‘I’ve always felt that God or Allah or Buddha or whoever it is up there gave me twins because they knew I’d be a bit shit at being a mum.’
Cara frowned. ‘I don’t understand. Having twins is hard. You do an amazing job, with your career and everything.’
‘Have two kids of different ages is hard, let alone two at once. I don’t know how you managed in the early days of the twins. The logistics of it all …’ said Beth in wonder.
‘Well, yes, it was a bit tricky at first, but the thing I kept telling myself was that it was okay to be a bit shit at it because the boys had each other, so that’s why I dressed them the same, put them in bunks, the same preschool, all of that … I wanted them to be close. I needed them to be close. To look after each other, when I couldn’t.’ She stopped. ‘And now they won’t be, and there’ll be a baby, and I’ll have even less time for them.’ The force of her final stab at the ice caused the straw to buckle in the middle.
‘Oh, honey.’ Beth put her hand on Alex’s forearm. ‘Don’t be so hard on yourself. They’ll still be at the same school. They’ll have each other. It’s really not that bad … Not like …’ She took a breath, her brow furrowed. ‘Max has been sending strange text messages to someone I don’t know. A woman I think.’
Alex and Cara exchanged glances.
‘What?’ said Alex. ‘What are you talking about?’
Beth fished out her phone. ‘Here,’ she said, handing it over. ‘I took a photo, just in case.’
Alex leant over Cara’s shoulder to read the messages. ‘How did you find them? Were you snooping?’
‘They just popped up on the iPad.’ Beth threw her hands up. ‘I don’t know what to make of it all.’
Alex reread them. Time, place … how big are you?
She’d seen enough family law disputes go through Macauley to know a philandering husband when she saw one. But Max Chandler? Sure, the guy had that easy charm about him that most real estate agents did, but she didn’t pick up a flirtatious vibe. If anything, he’d been a bit less friendly lately. A little more withdrawn. ‘It doesn’t look good.’ She handed back the phone. ‘Did you ask him about it?’
‘We haven’t exactly been seeing eye to eye lately. I didn’t want to make things worse. Like you say, it’s not really conclusive, is it? It might just be a new friend—’
Ding-dong. Ding-dong. Alex blinked to get rid of the alarm bells in her head. Poor, sweet Beth. Men were such shits. Noah and Jasper wouldn’t do this to a woman, would they? If they did they’d probably blame her … Our mother was always on the phone. She gave us lollies to be quiet, and then, in Year One, she separated us AND had another baby! Of course we were destined to cheat on sweet, unsuspecting women.
Alex shook her head. ‘Hey, Pope, you’re awfully quiet over there.’
‘Oh, I was just thinking how bad news always comes in threes.’ She let out a small sigh.
‘Don’t tell me your life’s gone to shit as well?’
Cara regarded them both. ‘My parents can’t help me with the cottage. They’ve bought a place of their own, with a room for Poppy and me.’
‘For you to live?’ enquired Beth.
‘I think so. And they want me to marry a financial planner.’
‘Not the worst idea,’ said Alex. ‘Given your situation.’
Cara shot her a look, and Alex flinched. If she had to compare her neighbour to a foodstuff, as Cara herself had told them she often did, she would describe her as a chocolate-covered hazelnut – soft and sweet on the outside, but with true grit at the centre that you didn’t quite know about until you bit into it and nearly broke a tooth.
‘I can’t live with my parents.’ She shuddered. ‘And I don’t want to marry anyone, especially not the financial planner.’
‘Not anyone, ever?’ said Beth, wide-eyed. ‘But you’re still so young, and … gorgeous. You deserve happiness with someone.’
‘Yes, because marriage can be such bliss,’ said Alex.
‘It doesn’t have to be marriage,’ said Beth. ‘But to close yourself off to love … that’s sad. Especially when there are lovely men out there, like that one, near the bar, who’s been watching you all night.’ She nodded in the direction of the bar and Alex craned for a better look. Blonde. Checked shirt. Heavy suede boots.
‘Shit, he’s hot, Cara. You should definitely go for it.’
The Viking winked and Alex gave a low wolf whistle.
‘Please, stop,’ whispered Cara vehemently, staring into her lap.
‘What? Just because I’m married doesn’t mean I can’t look, and you’re not married, so you can look. Actually, you can do more than look.’
‘I don’t want to,’ said Cara.
‘Please explain?’ said Alex.
Cara paused and placed two protective hands at the stem of her wineglass. ‘You’ll think I’m silly,’ she said in a low voice.
‘Yesterday, I held a funeral for a guinea pig. I will not judge you.’ Alex pressed a hand to her heart.
‘I think I have bad luck.’ Cara lowered her eyes. ‘Like, a curse.’
‘Okay, sorry – I can’t not judge that, because that is utterly ridiculous,’ said Alex.
‘Why do you feel that way, Cara?’ said Beth. ‘Is it Pete?’
Cara nodded. ‘My parents liked him. Well, my dad liked him, and my mum put up with him. She wanted us to marry in a church, and … as you know, we did not.’
‘Your wedding was beautiful!’ Beth protested. ‘You should have seen her on the day.’ She nudged Alex. ‘She was glorious … And Pete, so handsome.’
‘I’ve seen a photo. Total spunk.’ Alex nodded.
Cara gave them a weak, appreciative smile and continued. ‘When Pete got sick, Mum prayed for hours every day, for forgiveness … and a miracle … but …’ She flexed her hands. ‘There was nothing to be done,’ she finished flatly.
‘Forgiveness? Your mum thinks Pete died because you did something to offend God?’ asked Alex.
‘In Korea, it is considered unnatural for the offspring to die before the parent.’
‘Well, it is awful. No one should bury their own child …’ murmured Beth.
‘But you mean it’s more like a curse?’ said Alex.
‘Yes.’
‘You know that’s not only really silly, it’s also quite damaging.’
Cara shrugged. ‘She is my mother.’
Alex’s muscles tensed. Mothers really knew how to fuck up their kids, even if they didn’t want to. Ugh. Everything was shit. Her back was sore, her toes were being pinched by her heels. Cara’s and Beth’s personal lives were down the toilet. And she was in a pub, pregnant.
‘Do you think anyone would notice if I took off my shoes for a minute?’ Without waiting for answer, she went to bend, but found her bottom being shoved firmly in the opposite direction. She clutched the bar table to save herself from falling.
‘What the—’
The woman behind Alex, the one she’d presumably bumped with her own bottom, turned on her heel. ‘You made me spill my drink,’ she said crossly.
She was angry? She’d nearly made a pregnant lady fall over! Alex righted herself to eye level and stopped. Her insides shifted. ‘Charlie?’
Of course it had to be her neighbour. Looking amazing, as usual, in a sleek white sleeveless jumpsuit. Those arms! So sculpted they’d make Michelangelo weep.
‘Alex,’ Charlie said coolly, starting to dab gently at the small wet patch down her front. ‘Wherever she goes, chaos follows,’ she muttered, so quietly Alex wondered if she heard it at all.
‘Was that me? Gosh, er, sorry Charlie. Let me get that for you.’ Alex took a serviette from the bar table and started to dab. What was it about this woman that made her feel like a bumbling, apologising idiot? Was it the chic, all-white clothing? Or the sparkling diamond earrings? No, it was more than just her appearance. It was the general air of perfection she gave off. The sense that she had all her shit, not just her clothing, well and truly together. Unlike Alex. Was that remark about chaos a reference to the guinea pig incident, or the street party? Alex bristled. Neither was entirely her fault.
‘I’ve got a wet wipe here somewhere,’ volunteered Beth, searching her handbag.
‘I could get some soda water from the bar,’ offered Cara.
‘No, don’t.’ Charlie held up a hand. ‘All of you, stop. It’s fine. It was only mineral water.’
‘At least let us buy you another drink,’ said Beth.
‘No need, my friend is at the bar.’ She tilted her head in the direction of a very tall, very good-looking man at the bar, who seemed to sense they were talking about him, and turned around to wave.
‘He’s looking at investing in the business,’ said Charlie, as if reading Alex’s mind. ‘This is a business meeting.’
‘Riiiiiight,’ said Alex. ‘We’re having a business meeting, too.’
‘Really? I thought it might be a neighbourhood watch get-together,’ she said with a smirk.
‘Oh, no, we don’t have that,’ said Beth. ‘I mean, we used to, back in the nineties, but—’
‘Beth, she was joking,’ said Alex. ‘Actually, Charlie, you might be able to help us. Cara here is setting up a business that’s all about health and nutrition. Beth’s going to help her.’
‘Shakes or supplements?’ Charlie’s eyes narrowed.
‘Oh, no,’ said Cara in a deferential tone, as if shakes and supplements would be far too challenging. ‘We’re actually doing real food. Wholesome dinners for time-poor mums.’
‘So, home-cooked food, and that’s it?’ said Charlie. ‘How very … retro of you.’
Not quite as retro as eating like cavemen, thought Alex.
‘Oh, yes, I suppose it is when you think of it,’ said Cara, who loved anything vintage and accepted the comment as a compliment, rather than a veiled insult. ‘Anyway, it’s a very different space to yours, but we’d love to replicate the success of your online marketing presence. Any tips?’
Charlie fixed her gaze. ‘You want my honest advice? Make sure you know who you’re working with because a business will change and test that relationship in ways you never expected.’ She paused. ‘You have to fight for it.’
There was a beat of silence.
‘Oh, okay. Thanks for that,’ said Cara.
‘Ladies, I’m sorry, I didn’t know Charlie had friends here. Let me go back to the bar for you …’ It was the ‘investor’, holding a beer in one hand and a champagne in the other.
Business meeting, sure.
‘There’s a free table over there. Shall we?’ said Charlie to her investor.
‘Bye, Charlie. And sorry again about the drink.’ Alex stopped herself. Why did she keep apologising to this inscrutable woman? Always so cool and collected. The kind of woman who didn’t take ‘no’ for an answer. A woman whose all-white clothing seemed to repel catastrophe, and stains. She would never let a primary school principal walk all over her. Her child wouldn’t be allowed to fall behind. Charlie Devine was an achiever. She’d do something. Act. Put on her white Lycra and diamond earrings and summon her inner primitive force, or whatever it was that The Primal Guy crapped on about.
Alex collected her bag. ‘Sorry, ladies, but I need to call it a night.’
‘So soon? I was just about to buy more drinks. This is fun!’ said Beth, looking about the bar like a prisoner recently released from jail.
‘Maybe one more for me.’ Cara pressed her cheeks. ‘I’m not too red, am I?’
Alex kissed her lightly on the cheek. ‘You have a rosy glow, like you’ve just had the most wonderful fuck with that hot guy over there.’
‘Alex!’
She took in Beth and Cara’s appalled faces and grinned. So what if she didn’t have rock-hard abs or buns of steel? She had spunk and fight and attitude. Perhaps she’d come to the bar for pity from Beth and Cara, but she was leaving with resolve, thanks to Charlie. The woman had annoyed her into action.
‘Bye, ladies. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.’ Chin up, Alex went to stride away but spotted Charlie and her supposed investor, heads bowed together closely.
Alex tapped her on the shoulder. ‘Night, Charlie. And thanks for all your help …’
‘All what help?’ The woman looked confused but Alex was already halfway to the exit, head held high.
You’re not the only one who can be inscrutable.
Near the door, she paused and looked back over her shoulder to enjoy Charlie’s confusion one more time.
Yes. Got you!
Alex turned quickly, triumphantly.
And, bang, walked straight into the door.