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  Victoria’s mother neither greeted nor acknowledged Claire and only provided a cursory glance when she yelled at her to leave things alone and get out.

  “I hate myself for it, but I actually begged her to stay.”

  “That’s natural,” said Alex. “You’re human, like the rest of us. It was a shock. It was a shocking thing to happen. I actually think you handled yourself well.”

  “She walked out without a second glance.” Claire sighed.

  “And you’ll be okay. It might not feel like it now, but it doesn’t seem like you were meant to be with her. You deserve someone who loves you for who you are and who will treat you with the love and respect you deserve.”

  “That’s just it, Alex. Maybe she did exactly that.”

  Claire couldn’t imagine what sort of person would drive their partner to leave the country with barely a second thought. What sort of useless, horrible person would do that? She would. Claire Patricia O’Malley not only drove her partner away, she drove her to the other side of the world.

  They left the kitchen as a barely audible rap at the door stopped them in their tracks.

  “Don’t look at me.” Claire shrugged. “I don’t live here.”

  Jess and Alex stared at each other.

  “Oh, for Christ’s sake.” Claire marched toward the front door.

  *

  Kathryn hated arriving unannounced, but it was the right time to leave Queensland, and she needed to judge her sister’s reaction to her intended move to Melbourne for herself. It was time to come home. She might have kicked Andy out two years ago and rebuilt her life and self-esteem, but now it was time to let go of the past. Moving to Melbourne, cosmopolitan and vibrant, was the first step; rekindling the potholed relationship with Jess was the second.

  She hadn’t given a second thought to how she might feel standing at the doorway of her sister’s home. A wave of childhood nausea swept over her remembering the time she was ten and had been sent to their neighbour’s house to confess a crime her neighbour hadn’t even been aware she’d committed; Sorry, Mrs. Rogers, I picked all your roses because I thought you were dead, not sick. I’ve made them into a perfume. It’s for you. Well, it is now. Mrs. Rogers’s budgie had died. Mrs. Rogers remained very much alive for another thirteen years, and the bout of flu that had seen her indoors for a week coincided with her pet budgie’s full speed kamikaze flight into a window.

  The door swung open, and everything she’d rehearsed disappeared. “Claire?”

  By the look on Claire’s face, she was taken aback, too.

  “I am at the right place, aren’t I?”

  Claire looked her up and down before blushing as their eyes met again. “I’m sorry. You just look, um, different.” Kathryn smiled and stepped into Claire’s open arms. “Hi, Kathryn. It’s lovely to see you again.”

  “And you, too, Claire. What has it been now, nine years?”

  Before the conversation could progress, she looked over Claire’s shoulder to see Jess and Alex approaching.

  It never ceased to amaze her how consuming Jess was. She had a presence like no one she’d met, and even growing up as her older sister, Kathryn knew she would one day achieve something great. Not surprisingly, others felt it, too. “Jessica, how are you?”

  “Well this is certainly a surprise.” Jess reached for her and drew her into a tight embrace. “I can honestly say I didn’t wake this morning expecting you to arrive on our doorstep.”

  Alex pushed forward. “Welcome, Kathryn.” They kissed on the cheek. “How are you?”

  Kathryn didn’t want to announce on the doorstep that she was unemployed, single, four stone lighter, and divorced. Although by the look on Claire’s face, the weight loss hadn’t gone unnoticed. Was the rest so obvious?

  Jess ushered her in, and Claire dragged her suitcase over the threshold. She had no idea Jess was even in touch with Claire, let alone friendly with her.

  The first time she’d met Claire, she remembered feeling jealous. Not of her looks or the fact she was sleeping with her sister, but because she seemed limitless. She saw no obstacles and nothing constrained her, especially not the ideals of parents or anyone else influential in her life. Claire liked fixing people, so she became a nurse. She liked older, stylish women, so she dated Jess, and she wanted to travel the world, so she did. Kathryn had married the first man who’d asked her. The first man she’d slept with and possibly the most boring man on the planet.

  As the memories came flooding back, she recalled just how much Claire had disliked her. Perhaps Claire sensed her jealousy. Perhaps now, nine years on, they could just get over it.

  “Wow, something smells great,” said Kathryn.

  “Shit!” Jess hurried back to the kitchen to stir various pots on the stove. The others followed.

  Seemingly satisfied dinner was on track, Jess poured more wine. “A toast to my unexpected sister.” She turned to Claire. “And my dear forlorn friend.”

  Everyone clinked glasses. Kathryn was about to enquire why Claire was sad, when she noticed Jess was drinking mineral water. “So, little sister, you’re either an alcoholic or you’re pregnant. Which one is it?”

  Jess grinned, cuddling up to Alex. “We’re pregnant. Twins.”

  “Oh, my God!” The hugging began all over again. “Congratulations, that’s fabulous news.”

  Few things Jess did surprised Kathryn. She was older than Jess by two years, but still managed to live in her shadow. What was a surprise was that it was Jess carrying the babies. “Good for you, but I never knew you wanted children.”

  “Neither did we.”

  “Until now,” added Alex.

  Kathryn turned to Claire. “Were you surprised?”

  Claire shrugged. She’d seemed preoccupied by the framed photos, sparse as they were, in the living room. “I think I was initially. I mean, look at this place. It’s hardly your average child friendly nursery, but I’m sure the littlies will appreciate the polished peppercorn hickory floorboards, the white walls, and the pale granite worktop when their Aunt Claire buys them crayons.”

  Kathryn had forgotten Claire’s wicked sense of humour. It was probably the only thing she’d liked about her. She joined Claire in front of the only three black-and-white pictures in the room. “Jessica Mercer!” She held aloft a photo taken years ago. “I can’t believe, of all of the photos you must have of me, you choose to frame this one?”

  She was mortified. In the picture, she must have been in her early thirties. Her hair was shaped into a blunt bob, and she was wearing the most hideous floral dress. She’d worked hard in the last two years to find her own identity, and with the help of a few good friends and a great wad of cash, she’d made external improvements as well as the internal ones. Nothing surgical, just a personal trainer, a new wardrobe, and a great hairdresser. When Kathryn looked in the mirror these days, she shocked even herself but was proud of her transformation.

  “You can’t complain. It is you. That’s exactly what you looked liked back then,” said Jess.

  “Yeah, well, I’ve made some improvements since then.”

  “I can see that. You look amazing.”

  *

  Claire couldn’t get over Kathryn’s transition from frumpy housewife to hot, sexy woman. More importantly, she enjoyed the fact that she could recognise Kathryn in that way. Until now, she’d been wondering if her experience with Victoria had numbed her senses. She smiled, pleased to know all her lesbian bits remained in working order. She stole one last look at the picture before following everyone back to the kitchen.

  After what she’d been through in the last few months, the intrigue and mystery surrounding Kathryn’s arrival was a welcome little drama to keep her distracted for the evening. Like an excited puppy, she joined them, desperate not to miss a thing. She was surprised no one had asked about Kathryn’s husband yet, but in case everyone else knew something she didn’t, she refrained from prodding.

  Kathryn had lived in Brisbane when Cl
aire last saw her. She had been married to Andy, and since she was an accountant, her life was as exciting as a dead ant compared to Claire’s, whose priorities had been drinking, studying nursing, and intimately studying Jess.

  From what she could remember, Kathryn had married young, worked hard to establish her career, and had seemingly become trapped in a mundane time warp. Alarmingly, she didn’t even have children as an excuse. When Kathryn turned thirty, Claire remembered thinking that she must have been thirty for years, she was so good at it. Being young and immature herself, Claire had written Kathryn off as a boring waste of space.

  Dinner was delicious—the Andy subject remained untouched—and the prawns were exquisite, and Kathryn couldn’t believe Jess even knew where the kitchen was, let alone her way around it. As always, Claire and Alex tidied up, leaving Jess and Kathryn to tour the garden.

  Claire eventually snuck off to the bathroom. She took two pills and hoped they’d counteract the sleepy effects of the wine. She knew it was probably a bad idea, but the truth was that she couldn’t think of a better one. She was out of options. Riding it out was her only choice. The last thing she needed was to fall asleep on the couch and scare everyone half to death.

  *

  It had occurred to Kathryn to tell Jess about Andy in the garden, but she only wanted to have to tell her story once. There were the inevitable questions that followed such a revelation, and while she’d heard many of them before, she was comfortable holding an audience with Jess, Alex, and Claire. Months of therapy left her confident to talk about that devastating period in her life.

  After filling empty glasses, Alex patted the couch, gesturing Claire to her. What the hell was going on? Claire had been dumped, that much she could tell, but it must have been a while ago now because she didn’t really appear too upset, just perhaps vague and distracted. Her best guess was that there might have been issues at work, but it was only a guess. It was odd, though; Claire with Alex and Jess sitting alone in an armchair. She set her confusion aside to tell her story.

  “Andy and I aren’t together. Three years ago, he had an affair.” She saw a wave of sadness wash over Jess. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you, I just needed some time for me.”

  Time or space. The words felt interchangeable in relation to how she had felt amidst the misery. The time was to heal and the space was to find herself. The role of the jilted wife was the same the world over, played by the same actors with the same script and the same ensemble cast. She had been the star of her own banal discarded-wife movie.

  “Do you remember his crush on Diane Keaton?”

  “The actress?” asked Alex.

  “Besides her husband and loads of granddads around the world, does anyone actually have a crush on Diane Keaton?” asked Claire. “I mean is that even possible?”

  Jess nearly choked on her mineral water. “My God, he was insufferable.”

  “Well, he found the real deal. Well, not exactly the real Diane Keaton, but the next best thing. Diane Bloody Pembroke.” Kathryn waited for Jess to recognise the name.

  “Did I meet her once?” Her eyes widened. “You’re kidding? Diane his boss?”

  Kathryn knew the way she told the story lightened the weighty conversation. It would even be amusing if it had happened to someone else, but it happened to her, and no matter how many times she retold her sordid tale, it was rarely amusing.

  Both Alex and Claire looked to each other for clues.

  “Diane Bloody Pembroke was Andy’s boss of four years. She was sixty-two when they first began their affair.”

  Claire whistled and kicked her legs off the end of the couch, placing her head in Alex’s lap. “Whoa. What was he, thirty-five, thirty-six? I thought that kind of thing only happened in the fantasy life of hetty women in chick flicks.”

  Kathryn frowned at the closeness of Alex and Claire. The relationship between Jess’s wife and her ex-lover, in her opinion, shouldn’t look anything like what she was seeing. Jess was seeing it, too, and it troubled her why she wasn’t intervening. “Hetty?”

  “Heterosexual,” said Claire.

  “So, similar to me calling you a lezza?” Kathryn smiled, but it lacked conviction. She had watched Andy and Diane behave as close friends, she had even thought they shared a familiarity resembling a mother and son relationship, but then right under her nose, they began shagging like rabbits. Naturally, it had left her wary of blurred lines and crossing boundaries. Jess looked sad for what Kathryn had just told her but oblivious to what was happening in her own backyard.

  “I’m so sorry, Kathryn. I really wish you’d told me,” said Jess.

  Kathryn didn’t tell anyone, not for the first year after she found out.

  “We tried to make it work. Andy lied and said he’d ended it with Diane, but the truth was she fired him. He’d served his purpose and he was in love with her. She didn’t want a love struck puppy, she wanted a toy boy.”

  “Funny, isn’t it? I thought you and Andy were so well suited. You seemed to just gel as one. I honestly thought you’d last.”

  “We were boring, that’s all. Comfortable being boring, too, that’s the sad thing. I thought that’s what Andy liked. I thought he liked my boring clothes, my terrible hair, and our placid lifestyle. It was as if I was trying to please him, but I was only guessing how. Turns out dressing and acting like I was bloody sixty-two just wasn’t enough.”

  What Kathryn regretted most was holding on. Their parents had taught her and Jess well; you put up with the lot you were given and you made it work. The difference between them was that Jess only pretended to live by that philosophy. Kathryn took it for gospel.

  “For a year, we lived in the same house and ran separate lives. It worked for Andy. He got a new job, a better job, and a new girlfriend.”

  “And what did you get?” Jess was close to tears.

  “I got an extra fifteen kilograms and depression.”

  “But you’re okay now?”

  “I’m fine now.” She smiled warmly to reassure Jess. “Honestly, I’m fine. Look, it was a process. It’s always a process. After he left, I realised I’d spent a year wanting him to want me again, but behaving like someone who wouldn’t piss on him if he were on fire.” Claire stifled a giggle. “I spent the next two years looking after me and only moving forward.”

  “Is that why you couldn’t tell me or come and stay?” Jess looked hurt.

  “I didn’t feel strong enough to be around you. I’m sorry if that sounds harsh, but it’s not a reflection on you. It’s about me and how I was feeling.”

  “But you’re better now?”

  This time Kathryn went and hugged Jess. “Yes. I promise. I’m all better now. I could do with another drink though.” Telling someone your fifteen-year marriage was over never became any easier, and she’d done it more times than she cared to remember now. Jess handed her the bottle, and she filled her glass before draining it again, waiting for the sensation of frayed nerve endings to dull with the alcohol.

  “So, the upshot of my tale of destruction and renewal is that I’m moving to Melbourne.”

  “What? As in now?” asked Jess.

  “Sometimes it’s difficult to believe you’re a stern-faced lawyer.”

  “You’re moving down here now?”

  “Yes, Jess. I want to come home. Is that so bad?”

  “No, of course not. I think it’s great. It’s just a big move.”

  “You’ll stay with us until you get settled, Kathryn. We’d love to have you,” Alex said.

  Kathryn gave Alex her full attention, her eyes flicked down to Claire, lying with her head in Alex’s lap. It wasn’t right, but once again, she glossed over the sight before her. “Thank you. I hadn’t presumed you’d offer, but it would be wonderful if I could stay with you both for a little while, just until I sell the Brisbane property and can purchase down here.”

  “Did you do well in the settlement? You should have called me. I could have taken a look at the finances for y
ou,” Jess said.

  “You’re not even a family lawyer. But don’t worry. My lawyer made sure the split was equitable. I didn’t miss out.”

  “I would have liked to have helped.”

  Kathryn knew it was Jess’s way of reconciling her absence for the last three years. Three years of not helping Kathryn through a hard time, but Kathryn had chosen to rebuild her life alone. Jess didn’t need to feel guilty. “I fixed myself, my way. I was hoping you’d be proud of me.”

  Jess kissed her cheek. “I always have been.”

  *

  The heavy topic of infidelity and divorce had taken its toll, and had Claire been honest with herself, she would have admitted that the subject cut a little close to the bone. For a while, however, it had been nice to hear that she wasn’t the only one to struggle her way out of a relationship. It took time. That’s what everyone kept saying.

  “So, Claire, you’re single again?” It was a statement rather than a question, but when Claire met Kathryn’s stare, she knew an answer was expected.

  Claire nodded forcing her eyes open. “Sure am.” Alex stroked her cheek.

  “How long?”

  For the first two weeks or so, Claire knew exactly how long, almost to the minute, since Victoria had left her. Now, she was pleased to realise she had to stop and work it out. “Just over four months, I think.”

  “I was a mess at four months,” Kathryn said. “And eating myself into a heart attack if I remember rightly.”

  “I’ve come to realise my breakup was inevitable.”

  “Aren’t they all?”

  “I just think there’s a right and a wrong way to finish with someone. I copped the wrong way and so did you by the sound of it.”

  “But four months isn’t that long.” Kathryn frowned. “You’re doing incredibly well.”

  “When I finally began to feel better, I realised she wasn’t worth feeling shit over any longer.”