The Younger Wife(18)

But like all drugs, Sonny eventually lost his potency. And when he didn’t provide the hit that he once had, Tully needed to go looking for that rush of adrenaline in the place she’d always found it.

‘Boys!’ Michelle called. ‘Not so rough!’

Tully looked over, thrilled that Miles was playing on the grass with Rob and Michelle’s boys. He was often timid when other children came over, and usually spent the whole time sitting on Tully’s lap. Perhaps he was sick of Tully, given that they now spent every night together? Three weeks in, he still hadn’t slept in his big-boy bed and Tully was starting to think he never would. One day, his wife would kiss him goodnight, tuck him into his crib, and then head into her own bedroom. If this was his reaction to a new bed, Tully wondered, what would be his reaction to a new house?

‘Is that a new top, Tully?’ Michelle asked her. ‘It’s gorgeous.’

This caught Sonny’s attention. The word ‘new’ had a way of sending an electric current through him lately. ‘I don’t think I’ve seen it before either,’ he said.

Tully avoided his gaze. ‘This one? Sure you have.’

‘Michelle has a lot of clothes that aren’t new but which I haven’t seen before,’ Rob said, sipping the froth off the premium beer that Sonny must have bought without receiving the third degree from her about its cost. ‘The next thing I know, there’s an eye-watering charge on the credit card from Zimmerman or Scanlan Theodore.’

‘And Rob has so many golf clubs that aren’t new but which I haven’t seen before,’ Michelle replied. ‘If I looked at the credit card statement, I’m sure I’d find some eye-watering charges from House of Golf.’

They both laughed with the airiness of people without money problems. This was how it happened, Tully realised, opening a new bottle of sauvignon blanc. You married a kind, generous progressive man, and within a decade he became George Banks from Mary Poppins. (The boys had been watching Mary Poppins lately and Tully had been shocked by what poor Winifred had had to put up with. No wonder she joined the suffragette movement.)

‘You won’t find any eye-watering amounts on the credit card from me,’ Tully said, holding up her hand to imply scout’s honour. ‘You have my word.’

She wasn’t sure if it was the scout’s honour or giving her word that did it, but Sonny seemed to relax. It had the effect of relaxing Tully too. Until her phone started ringing and she saw Heather’s name on the screen.

‘It’s Heather,’ she said, her eyes widening.

‘Answer it,’ Michelle demanded.

‘Should I?’ Tully said. The group nodded unanimously so she raised the phone to her ear. ‘Heather?’

There was a longer than normal pause.

‘Tully, hi . . . I hope I’m not catching you at a bad time.’

‘It’s not a great time,’ Tully said. ‘I have some friends here at the moment.’

She looked up. Rob, Michelle, and Sonny were all watching her eagerly.

‘In that case, I won’t keep you. But I was just talking to your dad, and he suggested it might be fun for us to get together again. Another lunch, just the girls this time. I wondered if you would be interested?’

Tully had a vision of herself sitting at a table with Rachel and Heather, no Dad. It made her stomach lurch. It was one thing meeting up with Heather and Dad at his request, but . . . socialising with her? It felt like the ultimate betrayal of Mum.

‘It might sound a little too much,’ Heather continued, ‘but I just thought it would be nice if we got to know each other better as women . . . without your dad around.’

Rob and Michelle were sitting forward in their chairs, absolutely thrilled, mouthing things to each other and beaming. The new girlfriend. Calling!

‘I’m sorry, Heather – like I said, this isn’t a great time. I have guests here.’

‘Oh.’ A pause. ‘Of course. So sorry.’

Tully knew she should say, I’ll be in touch about lunch, or, I’ll call you later and we can make a plan. But her brain seemed to have temporarily cut off access to such social graces, so instead she said, ‘Bye,’ and hung up the phone.

As she returned her phone to the table she noted Rob and Michelle’s delighted, scandalised faces and knew she was expected to provide juicy details. She herself would have appreciated the juicy details in a similar situation. And why not? Not only would it please her audience, there was a good chance it would be therapeutic to share all the sordid, peculiar details. The problem was, she wanted to save those details for the one person who would understand exactly how she felt. The one who’d reached out to her just a few days ago. The one who, no matter how hard she tried, she just couldn’t seem to connect with.

Rachel.





8


RACHEL


Ninety-seven thousand, three hundred and seventy-two dollars.

Rachel sat on her bedroom floor, surrounded by crumpled bills. She had pulled the money out of the hot-water bottle note by note, first with her fingers, then with tweezers, and finally, when the cash kept coming, she’d taken a pair of scissors and cut through the bottle. The hot-water bottle cover was also full of bills.

Ninety-seven thousand, three hundred and seventy-two dollars. Where did Mum get that kind of money?