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Authors: Lisa Heidke

Stella Makes Good (23 page)

BOOK: Stella Makes Good
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Filled with warmth, I turned to Jesse. ‘We’ll be back soon, hon.’

Louisa and I caught the elevator to the ground floor, along with a heavily pregnant woman and her partner, who was flustered and fussing over her. We let them out first and I watched as she waddled towards the gift shop. Then I thought about Jesse and her miscarriage. It was too sad.

‘Stella, can I ask you something?’ Louisa said.

I turned to look at her. ‘Shoot.’

‘Mum said there’d been talk that Jesse might have deliberately . . .’ She didn’t finish.

‘One of the witnesses said he thinks that’s what happened,’ I told her. ‘But I can’t believe Jesse would do that. Not with Ollie and Emily to look after. She would have needed to be deeply depressed to do that, no longer in control of her actions. I saw her practically every day and I don’t think she was in that kind of state.’

The more I considered the idea, the more resolute I became. There was no way Jesse would have deliberately driven into a tree. And if she’d had the slightest inkling she was pregnant, I was doubly sure that self-harm would have been the last thing on her mind.

o tell the truth, Carly couldn’t wait to leave the hospital. It was depressing seeing the devastated looks on the faces of Jesse’s parents; watching Ollie and Emmy play on the seesaw, knowing something was terribly wrong with their mother but not quite understanding the gravity of the situation. Not to mention the fact that it was hard being around Steve.

Also, regardless of how many times Stella argued otherwise, Carly felt responsible for what had happened to Jesse. If she hadn’t blurted out what they’d seen at the party last week, none of this might have happened.

And then there was Toby. Every time she saw him at the hospital, it was an ugly reminder of her ridiculous behaviour. Carly was embarrassed she’d flirted with him so madly. She really was a different person when drunk.

She dropped her car at home, caught a train to Town Hall station and started walking up towards Hyde Park. The last time she’d popped into Brett’s office was three years ago. Both boys had come along and they’d all had lunch at the revolving Summit Restaurant, forty-seven floors above the city with breathtaking 360-degree uninterrupted views of Sydney and beyond. Then they’d climbed the Harbour Bridge. It was a great day. It was hard to believe it had been three years. Time flew.

Over the past few days Carly had made the decision to give her marriage another go. Jesse’s accident had made her realise how precious life was; it could be snatched away in seconds. Will and Nick deserved her full attention and a strong commitment to their father and she was going to do her best to deliver.

As she walked down Elizabeth Street towards Brett’s office, she wondered what was happening with Nicholas. She still hadn’t heard back from Peter Sinclair, the sports master who’d been in contact with her. Nick hadn’t called or emailed either. If Brett was in a relaxed mood today, she’d definitely bring it up.

She glanced at her watch. Almost midday. She was hungry and totally coffeed out. An image of Jesse lying in that horrid hospital bed, machinery whirring around her, flashed through her mind and she shuddered, silently praying that this afternoon there’d be news about an improvement in her condition.

When she arrived at Brett’s building, Carly momentarily forgot which floor he was on. Ninth, that was it. Inside the elevator, she checked her reflection in the mirrored walls and watched the numbers change as they ascended. She was a little nervous, it had been a long time. At the ninth floor, the elevator pinged and the doors opened. She took a right towards his office. As she approached, she saw him leaning against the wall and talking to someone, a woman. Colleague? Secretary? He was animated. It was good to see him smiling, enjoying some office banter. She felt her heart skip a little. She really did love him.

‘Carly,’ he said when he saw her. ‘What a nice surprise.’ He kissed her on the lips, then introduced her to his colleague, Jane, before she walked off. As he led Carly inside his office, he said, ‘Is everything okay?’

She nodded. ‘It’s been a while, hasn’t it?’

‘Better late than never. I’m happy to see you. Any change with Jesse?’

Carly shook her head and stared out the window. ‘It’s so sad and I feel useless.’ She turned back to face him. ‘Then there’s us. I’m sorry for everything.’

‘Carls, it’s not just you. I haven’t been doing my bit either. I need to pull back on my work commitments and spend more time with you and Will, especially now with Nicholas away.’

‘About that,’ Carly said, feeling tears well in her eyes. ‘Nick’s in a bit of trouble.’

‘What kind of trouble?’

‘He’s been suspended from his coaching job because he and some other boys were fighting in the locker room.’

‘That doesn’t sound too bad. I’m sure—’

‘Wait. There’s more. Nick . . . the boys were naked, flicking towels around.’

Brett raised his eyebrows. ‘So? They were in a locker room. It’s not like they were streaking through the school grounds. I’m sure it’ll all be sorted.’

‘But the suspension?’

‘It’s an English school—I’m not surprised. But if it makes you feel better, I’ll ring and see what I can find out.’

Carly nodded, fresh tears coming. They were already talking about Nicholas so now was the time to bring up the matter of the letters. ‘There’s something else . . .’

Brett half-smiled and motioned for her to sit down. ‘This is certainly the week for it.’ He pulled up a chair up beside her. ‘Okay, I’m listening.’

‘It’s about Nick, but I don’t know where to start. I found some letters . . . I think he might have been having a friendship with a teacher, a male—’

Brett sighed and put his hand on her knee, stroking it gently. ‘I’m going to stop you there.’

‘No, I need to tell you this. I’m not making it up.’

‘I know you’re not. But I already know about the letters.’

Carly blinked. ‘What?’

‘Mr Busby. Nick spoke to me about him. I went to the school and we sorted it out.’

‘You kept this a secret from me?’

‘Nick didn’t want a fuss. We were both worried you’d blow it out of proportion. Anyway, I fixed the problem.’

‘But why didn’t you tell me?’ Carly said, brushing away his hand and standing up. ‘He’s my son.’

‘Carly, calm down,’ Brett said, rising, too. ‘Everything’s okay. You’re creating a drama out of nothing.’

She had to get out. Take herself for a long walk so she could think. On the one hand, she was relieved Brett already knew about the letters and the matter had been dealt with, but on the other, she was furious with him for not telling her. So furious she could barely look at him.

‘I need to go,’ she said, walking towards the door.

‘Stop. Calm down. Let’s have lunch and talk about this rationally.’

‘Don’t tell me to calm down.’ She kept walking, only stopping when she reached the elevator. She jabbed the button with her finger. ‘Hurry the fuck up.’

‘I can explain,’ said Brett, trying to step between her and the elevator.

Carly put her hand up in front of his face to stop him. ‘Please don’t.’ The elevator doors opened. Several suits moved to the side to let her in. ‘I don’t want to know.’

The doors closed on Brett, a look of resignation on his face. As they descended, her phone started ringing. An older woman standing beside her touched her on the arm. ‘Don’t answer, love. Give it time.’

She nodded and turned the phone off without bothering to check the caller identification.

Once out of the elevator, Carly put her sunnies on and fled down the street, not looking back. She walked all the way down to the Opera House, along the foreshore and into the Botanic Gardens, tears flowing. Finally, she took a seat on a park bench and, in a daze, watched the ferries bobbing along the harbour.

By the time she checked her watch again, it was nearly three o’clock. She had no idea how it had got to that time but didn’t really care. She turned on her phone to find several messages—all from Brett. The rational part of her knew he must have believed he had good reason to keep the matter from her, but she was hurt. All these years, she’d believed that she and Nick were close. Why couldn’t he have confided in her?

She caught the train home and walked straight to the fridge in search of wine. It had been four days since her last glass. She’d give up drinking again, tomorrow.

As she drank the chardonnay, everything started falling into place: the devastation and betrayal she felt at Brett not confiding in her about the problems Nick was having at school; his assertion that he’d preferred to fix it himself rather than discuss it with her; his belief that she’d overreact and turn it into a huge drama. Who was she kidding? This wasn’t a marriage. She couldn’t lie to herself or to Brett any more.

She thought back to when she’d told Brett about her desire for a fuck buddy and he hadn’t seemed fazed. Oh, he’d said he was angry, but he wasn’t. Not really. Carly gulped more wine as thoughts dashed in and out of her head. And what was the story with his colleague, Jane? They’d certainly seemed very chatty and friendly when she’d arrived unexpectedly at the office today. He was having an affair, she just knew it.

Carly heard the key in the door turn as she reached for the bottle. It was empty. She’d drained it in less than an hour.

‘Carly, I’ve been so worried,’ Brett said when he found her propped up at the kitchen bench. ‘Are you okay?’

‘Couldn’t be better,’ she trilled. ‘But Brett, our marriage is over. Finito. Done and dusted.’

‘What are you saying?’

‘I’m saying that Blind Freddy could see that we haven’t been getting along for a very long time. Why can’t you?’

‘Carly, stop.’

‘No, it’s over. You and I don’t fit together any more. We don’t do anything together. We’re a joke. You have your business and golf and that’s it. When you’re not working, you’re playing golf—’

‘I haven’t played in months.’

‘Or fucking your lady friend. Who knows?’

‘You’ve been drinking. You’re not making any sense.’

‘I’m making perfect sense. Besides, I don’t have a problem with any of this. It’s great you’ve got other activities to distract you.’

He shook his head. ‘Distract me from what exactly?’

‘Haven’t you been listening? Our marriage, Brett!’

He reached out to hold her but she pulled away. ‘How could you? How could you not tell me about Nicky? I feel so hurt and betrayed.’ She shook her head. ‘The fact that you couldn’t even confide in me tells me everything I need to know about the state of our relationship.’

‘That’s not true, darling. We were trying to protect you—’

‘Protect me? Please!’

‘I’m sorry,’ he said, looking sad and beaten. ‘I am truly sorry.’

‘Can’t you see?’ Carly said, struggling to compose herself. ‘We’ve ended up like Stella and Terry.’

‘No, we haven’t.’

She took a step back. ‘How can you say that? Anyway, I’ve been thinking that with Nicholas overseas it might be good to take a break.’

‘Take a break?’

‘Yes, as in you and me taking a break from each other, exploring other paths.’

‘But I don’t want to explore other paths. I’m happy on this path.’

‘You aren’t.’ Carly burst into fresh tears.

‘Carls, this is a passing phase, trust me. You’re upset because you’re missing Nicholas. That’s what the problem is. Why don’t you call him? You’ll feel better once you’ve spoken to him. Then, tonight, we can go out to dinner, just the two of us, or see a movie. Why don’t we do that?’

‘Brett,’ she groaned.

‘You’re being emotional because of all this talk about Nick. I’ll never leave you, ever. This is my home, my life. This is where my family is.’

‘But I don’t even know if I love you any more. We’ve had a good run—’

‘We’re still having a good run.’ Brett’s eyes began to well up, too. ‘I love you. I love my boys. I can fix this, really.’


Carly went upstairs and took a shower. When she came back downstairs half an hour later, Brett had marinated steaks for dinner, prepared a salad and was fixing a leaking tap in the laundry.

‘On the weekend, we’ll have a clean-up,’ he told her. ‘Time to get stuck into some odd jobs around the house and garden that I’ve been neglecting for months. Just make a list and I’ll get on with them.’

‘Brett,’ she said, but couldn’t think what to say next. The fight had completely gone out of her. She nodded. ‘Okay, sure. Sounds like a good plan.’

BOOK: Stella Makes Good
9.28Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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