The Girl in the Yellow Vest (15 page)

Emily nodded enthusiastically. ‘You can only join if you know how to whinge.’

‘Deal!’ They giggled as they shook on it. As the moment of agreement ended Charlotte happened to glance out the window and notice how dark it had got.

‘Oh no! What time is it?’ Her eyes flicked to her watch. ‘Zara is going to kill me. I’ve left her with Mum for two hours!’ She hastily pushed out her chair. ‘Looks like it’s going to be frozen dinners tonight.’

‘Does your mum need a lot of care?’ Emily asked.

‘Yes. She has Alzheimer’s disease and her memory is all over the place. Sometimes she’s in the present, but most of the time she’s living in the past. Her co-ordination is also pretty low. She struggles with simple things like showering and getting dressed. She needs
a lot
of help.’

Emily’s brow creased. ‘It must be tough on you.’

Charlotte seemed to take her sympathy in stride, dismissing it with a wave of her hand. Emily, however, was sure it was because she didn’t want to draw attention to herself. Being a carer like that would be hard and very draining. She looked at her new friend with growing admiration.

‘Well,’ Charlotte smiled, ‘I definitely don’t get much time to just hang out like this. Thanks for this afternoon. I really enjoyed chatting with you.’

‘Me too,’ said Emily and on impulse gave her a hug.

‘Oh well, I better go now.’ Charlotte pulled away, slightly pink in the face. ‘I’ll see you round.’

‘Definitely.’

As the older woman let herself out, Emily turned back to their two empty mugs sitting on the table and felt the joy of a new friendship spread warmly through her chest. It was just another benefit of this trip away from Perth, her old life and Trent. As her thoughts returned to her ex she frowned.

Why was he texting her?

Wasn’t he seeing someone new?

There was knock at the door and she went to answer it. Will stood on her front porch, his worried expression accompanied by the sound of croaking cane toads. There were obviously some hiding in the dark bushes behind him.

‘Sorry I couldn’t get here sooner.’ He seemed to be panting, like he’d come running over. ‘Caesar held me up at work again. I was worried when I got your message about the pool.’

His eyes ran over her scantily clad body and she realised for the first time since Charlotte had left that she was still in her bathers with a sarong wrapped around her waist. She was dry now but it didn’t stop gooseflesh from breaking out on her skin as Will’s eyes travelled over her bikini top, seeming to pause on her chest.

He’s not perving on you. He’s Will. He doesn’t even notice you have breasts. For goodness’ sake, stop standing there like a seal with a fish in its mouth and let him in.

She stepped back and croaked, ‘Come in.’

‘Er . . . sure.’ Will scratched his head, averting his eyes from her as he stepped over the threshold.

She reined in her rioting senses. ‘I’m fine. Charlotte rescued me and we came back here and had a long cup of tea.’

‘Oh, that’s great,’ he said, turning to face her again, this time keeping his eyes above her neck. ‘I’m sorry about today. I meant to go over some stuff about the drive tower with you so you can start doing some real work tomorrow. But Caesar was keeping me so busy. Sometimes I think he’s doing it on purpose.’

‘Will, don’t worry about it,’ she assured him. ‘I’m in no hurry. I did only just get here.’

As they walked into the main living room again, she saw her phone sitting on the table and said, ‘I got a message from Trent today.’

‘Did you?’ He didn’t look up and she wondered briefly if she should tell him about it. After all, Will was Trent’s best friend. In this instance, his loyalties were divided. But it was too late now: she’d already opened the topic.

‘He said he misses me.’

He still didn’t look up. ‘Do you miss him?’

‘Yes, in a way.’ She hesitated. ‘But it’s not just about that any more. I’ve been here for two days and I’ve been focusing on myself and what I want and . . . I was starting to feel like I was moving on and now . . . I’m back to square one.’

‘What’s square one?’ He finally met her gaze.

‘Confusion. Worry. Self-doubt. Don’t get me wrong, I’m glad Trent misses me. I’ve been hoping and wishing for weeks that he’d have a change of heart or realise that all we shared couldn’t have been for nothing. And now that he has . . . I don’t know, it’s like an anti-climax. I don’t know what to do with it.’

‘Well there’s no need for you to make any ground-breaking decisions immediately,’ Will suggested. ‘Just take some time to think, consider your options.’

She smiled. ‘You’re right, of course.’

‘Of course.’ He nodded jovially.

‘Has Trent . . .’ she wrung her hands ‘. . . has he said anything about me to you?’

Will hesitated. ‘Em, I don’t think it’s fair that I get involved.’

‘Of course, I’m sorry.’ She bit her lip. ‘I shouldn’t have asked. Forget I said anything.’

‘I’m not mad,’ she heard him say above her bowed head. ‘I just want you to know that I’d never tell him anything you said about him. And it should be the same vice versa.’

‘I know, Will, and I trust you.’ She wanted to reach out and touch his arm then but something held her back. Something in the air that made her feel like she’d waded out of the shallow and into the deep. She clenched her fingers tightly into a fist and tried to say lightly, ‘So do you want to stay for dinner?’

‘Thanks,’ he grinned, ‘but I’m beat. Just thought I’d make sure you were okay.’

‘I’m good.’

‘Well, I think I’ll head off then.’ He pointed at the door. She nodded listlessly as he went off down the hall. She walked back to the living room where her phone lay on the table and picked it up. Opening Trent’s message up again, she looked at the words one last time.

I miss you.

With grim determination she typed one word and pushed send.

Why?

After her long chat with Emily Woods, Charlotte realised there was a lot to be said for having a friend to talk to about your problems. Her brother tried his best, but he tended to avoid touchy-feely subjects like the plague. Her sister Zara was too young and her mother was, let’s face it, a space cadet.

Unfortunately, she didn’t think she was close enough to Emily to start dumping on her just yet. And Charlotte had a
lot
of things to dump.

Mark Crawford for a start.

Don’t take this the wrong way, but you’re a very attractive woman.

Charlotte slammed the dishwasher shut and grabbed a sponge to viciously attack the kitchen bench.

What is the wrong way to take that?

As a come on? Not as a come on? The man was married with a recently delivered private letter from his wife.

A
love
letter, obviously.

So she had to ask the question: why come to the door, practically naked, and tell another woman you find her attractive? Why tell her anything at all? She yanked open the pantry doors and began removing items for lunch. Bread, butter, Vegemite.

I mean, it’s not like he’s a nice person and is in the habit of doling out praise.

Or reading correspondence for that matter.

She was quite sure that he had still not looked over her list. In fact, she was positive about it. There had been zero change. Gathering the plastic bag in her kitchen bin, she tied it in a knot and headed outside.

As if to prove her point there was a Barnes Inc loony sitting in a folding chair out the front of his unit. He was wearing nothing but football shorts and surrounded by a number of squashed beer cans – evidence of his drunken state.

‘Hello there, me lovey.’

‘Good evening,’ she said shortly.

‘Why not come and chat to the cane toads with me?’ He waved a hand, indicating she should come over. ‘They understand you, you know.’ His eyes were wild and his tone was hushed. The deep croak of the cane toad echoed in the evening air as though to punctuate his statement. ‘They’re lonely,’ he added. ‘They wanna talk to ya.’

Uh-huh
. Last time she checked, cane toads were fat, ugly and poisonous. And no matter how lonely and dejected she sometimes felt, she hadn’t hit rock bottom quite yet. Until such time she was going to stick to talking to people rather than amphibians. ‘No thanks.’

His wicked laugh followed her up the footpath as she walked back to her unit.

Her mother and Zara were seated on the couch in front of the television. Her mother was watching but not actually seeing the pictures moving on screen. Her sister was reading a novel. Charlotte sat down next to her.

‘So, how was school today?’

Zara glanced up sullenly. ‘Crap. You know, now that I’m a
complete
loser.’

Charlotte looked heavenwards. ‘Dare I ask?’

‘I had to tell Rosemary that I’m not allowed to go to her beach party,’ Zara imparted in the voice of tragedy.

‘Very sensible.’

‘It was
totally
humiliating. I’m a social outcast.’

‘Really?’ Charlotte feigned mild interest.

‘I might as well go hang out with the nerds and be done with it.’ Zara threw her book down.

‘Don’t knock the nerds.’ Charlotte shook her finger. ‘One day they’ll be rich.’

‘Oh yes,’ said their mum, who surprised them by showing she’d been listening. ‘How very true.’

Zara groaned.

‘What’s the matter, dear?’ her mum asked. ‘Do you have a headache?’

‘No, Mum,’ Zara said through her teeth, frustration seeming to make it difficult for her to speak.

‘How was school today?’ their mother asked.

Zara ignored the question, addressing Charlotte again. ‘Can’t you understand that I just
really
want to go?’

‘Of course I understand,’ Charlotte said softly. ‘I was a teenager once myself, Zara. But it’s just too dangerous for a girl your age.’

‘Nothing’s safe with you,’ Zara protested. ‘I’m not allowed to walk around the resort any more, swim in the pool, eat in the restaurant. You’ve taken all the fun out of living here. I feel like I’m in jail.’

‘Don’t over-dramatise, Zara.’

Her sister picked up her book again and returned to her reading. Charlotte decided to let her but her mum broke the silence again after thirty seconds.

‘So, Zara, how was school today?’

‘Argghhh!’ Zara stood up, fists clenched. ‘She’s like a bloody goldfish.’

Charlotte didn’t blame Zara for her frustration but the last thing she wanted to do was upset their mother.

‘Zara,’ she said quietly, ‘don’t shout.’

‘Don’t you hate this place?’ Zara asked. Her voice was calmer but seemed all the more deadly for it. Charlotte raised her eyes from rubbing her mother’s back.

‘Zara –’

‘I hate everything about it.’

‘You know this is the best place for Mum to be right now.’

‘Why?’ Zara demanded. ‘It’s not like she’s getting any better. Why don’t we leave? Go live in Brisbane. Make a fresh start. Mum can come too. Maybe I can even meet my dad.’

Virginia choked. ‘I do not want to live in Brisbane.’

Charlotte quickly passed her a glass of water that was sitting on the coffee table in front of them.

‘Zara,’ she met her sister’s eyes, ‘this is not a good time to discuss this.’

‘Why not? We’re not doing anything else.’

Panic fluttered on Virginia Templeton’s face. ‘I do not want to live in Brisbane, Lottie.’

‘It’s okay, Mum,’ Charlotte rubbed her back again. ‘We’re not going anywhere.’ She threw a meaningful glare at her sister but Zara ignored her.

‘Well, I for one think it would be good for me to meet him. I mean, even if it’s just once, for my own curiosity.’

Their mother’s glass rattled loudly as she replaced it with trembling hand back on the table.

‘You’re not meeting him, Zara,’ Charlotte said firmly, squeezing their mother’s shoulders. ‘It’s too hard.’

‘Much too hard,’ her mother muttered weakly. Zara dismissed her and focused on Charlotte.

‘It wouldn’t be that hard. I mean, jails are like hospitals, aren’t they? They have visiting hours, for the family, right?’

No!

‘Zara,’ Charlotte began slowly and succinctly, ‘it’s completely impossible.’