The Younger Wife(42)

‘Oh, I know that,’ Tully said without hesitation, and Rachel felt relieved. It was true, Rachel never knew how Tully would react to things on a day-to-day basis, but she knew that when push came to shove, Tully had her back. She was glad that Tully knew the same applied to her. That knowledge had been a strange, powerful undercurrent to her life. Rachel experienced a sudden swell of gratitude for it.

‘Can we have another cupcake?’ Locky called from the kitchen.

‘Yes,’ Tully and Rachel said in unison.

Tully peered into the bag again. ‘What’s this?’ she asked, fishing out the note with her name and Fiona Arthur’s.

‘That was stuffed into the hot-water bottle with the cash. I don’t suppose you know anyone called Fiona Arthur, do you?’

‘Yes,’ Tully said. ‘She’s one of Locky’s swim teachers.’

Rachel stared at her. ‘Seriously?’

‘Yes . . . no, wait! It’s Fiona Archer, not Arthur. I remember one of the parents commenting that she should have been called Fiona Swimmer.’

‘Oh.’ Rachel deflated. ‘So you don’t know a Fiona Arthur? Maybe a friend of Mum’s?’

Tully thought for a moment. ‘I don’t think so.’

Rachel sighed. ‘It’s driving me mad. I searched for the name on Facebook, and it turns out there are three Fiona Arthurs in Australia. I’ve sent a direct message to each of them but haven’t had a response.’

Tully put the note back in the bag. ‘I get why you want to know who it is, but just because Mum wrote her name down doesn’t mean she’s anyone important. Fiona Arthur could be the ironing lady. Or the name of the person Mum spoke to about getting Dad’s car serviced. Or a hairdresser one of her friends recommended. Or the name of a milliner who makes hats for women with large heads. Remember Mum had to get her hat specially made for the Melbourne Cup because she had such a large head circumference? You got her large head, actually.’

‘That’s true,’ Rachel said. ‘Except that when I asked Mum about Fiona Arthur, she started to cry. And then she said, Stephen hurt that poor woman terribly.’

Tully thought about that. ‘Maybe Dad performed surgery on her, and there were complications?’

‘Or maybe Mum was talking nonsense,’ Rachel said. ‘The frustrating part is we’ll never know.’

‘I wish we could ask her,’ Tully said. ‘Wouldn’t you love that? One more conversation where she was really with us. Where she knew who we were and who she was. Where she could access her memories and tell us what we want to know.’

‘It would be amazing. Though I have to say, I think she’d be pretty happy to know that you and I were sitting here together, talking like this. She’d be over the moon.’

‘You’re right.’ Tully dropped her gaze, either shy or perhaps horrified by the emotional turn of the conversation. Rachel averted her eyes too, for everyone’s comfort, and that’s when she noticed Miles. He was in the kitchen, still sitting on the stool, eating the cupcake directly from the plate with his mouth. It wasn’t dissimilar to how Rachel had eaten the wedding cake the other day.

‘Is Miles all right?’ Rachel asked.

Tully glanced at him then quickly looked away. ‘Honestly, I have no idea. He’s been doing all kinds of weird things lately.’

‘Like what?’

Tully sighed, then started counting them off on her fingers. ‘Won’t sleep in his bed. Freaks out if his hands are dirty. Scared of leaves, and sparkling water, and bananas. Only wears soft clothes. Today, to mix things up, he’s a mute.’

‘Sounds like you.’

‘Excuse me!’ Tully said, sitting forward.

‘Come on, Tul. You were an utter lunatic as a child.’

‘Thanks a lot.’

‘You were. You had a strange eye twitch for a while. And remember when you used to pull your hair out from the roots? And what about that time you made us all walk home from school and back again because Mum – not you: Mum – stepped on one of the cracks in the pavement. You were convinced that if we didn’t do it, Mum would die.’

‘I remember that,’ Tully said. ‘Mum was dreadful at missing the cracks. She stepped on every one.’

‘There you go then,’ Rachel said. ‘Your son is just like you.’

Tully raised an eyebrow. ‘A lunatic?’

‘A sensitive child who feels things deeply,’ Rachel corrected. ‘I imagine there’s been a fair bit of tension in your house of late, with losing the money, selling the house –’

‘His mum being a kleptomaniac.’

Rachel blinked. ‘Excuse me?’

‘Oh,’ Tully said, ‘I hadn’t told you that part yet, had I?’

Rachel shook her head as she rose to her feet. ‘Hold on,’ she said. ‘I suspect we’re going to need another glass of wine for this.’





23


HEATHER


Heather and Stephen had spent the afternoon wedding planning. Or, rather, planning for wedding planning. They’d hired a wedding planner, an efficient woman named Eleanor who had given them a survey to complete – a multiple-choice questionnaire about the elements of their dream wedding. Heather had expected that she would complete the survey alone at her desk during a lunch break, but instead Stephen had insisted that they do it together. Each time she asked a question, he frowned thoughtfully, weighed up the options, then gave his opinion, before acknowledging that, ultimately, it was up to her. It was one of those afternoons that Heather used to think were for other people.