The Family Next Door(33)

“So,” Essie said. “I feel like you know everything about me and you haven’t told me anything about yourself.”

Isabelle speared a mussel with her fork. “Sure I have.”

“You haven’t. Just that you’re here from Sydney, looking for a missing child.”

Isabelle chewed and swallowed, covering her mouth. She seemed to take longer than necessary before speaking again. “Well, that’s about all there is to me. I’m not married. No kids.”

Essie cocked her head. “Which is interesting since it’s pretty clear you love kids. Have you ever thought about having any?’

Isabelle paused for a long second. “Of course I have,” she said finally.

Essie wasn’t sure why this surprised her. After all, just because she was gay didn’t mean she didn’t want children. Lots of gay people had children.

“Let’s just say it hasn’t worked out for me so far.”

Isabelle lifted a napkin to her lips and wiped then. She was probably the kind of girl Essie would have gone for if she were gay, she decided. She was so sensual. The way she walked, the way she dressed, even the way she wiped oil from her lips was appealing. Essie had kissed a girl once, back in her university days. She’d been on the dance floor at a nightclub when a girl had grabbed her face and pressed it to her own. Essie had gone along with it, mostly because there were guys watching and she thought it would impress them. And the kiss hadn’t been bad, exactly. The girl’s skin had been soft and she’d tasted like rum and Coke. But nothing had stirred inside Essie. If she’d been experimenting, the results were clear. She wasn’t gay. And yet when she looked at Isabelle, she felt … something. She wondered, had it been Isabelle on that dance floor instead, would the results of the experiment have been as clear?

“But I’m not one to give up easily, so…” Isabelle was saying.

Essie tried to regain her train of thought, but she’d drunk too much wine. “Sorry?”

“Kids. I was saying that I am going to have them. Sooner rather than later.”

“Wonderful,” Essie said. “Let’s drink to that,”

Isabelle picked up her glass. “Yes,” she said. “Let’s drink to that.”

*

When they arrived back in Pleasant Court, the street was almost in darkness. But Essie didn’t feel tired at all. To the contrary, she felt exhilarated.

“Do you want to come in for another drink?” Essie said, once they were out of the taxi.

Isabelle paused. “What about the kids? We wouldn’t want to wake them up.”

Essie giggled. For a moment she’d forgotten she had kids. “Oh wow. I’m drunker than I thought.”

Isabelle laughed. “How about I take a rain check?”

“Sure.” Essie concentrated on not slurring her words. “Good idea.”

Isabelle gave her an unexpectedly tender smile. She reached out and touched Essie’s upper arm gently. “This was nice,” she said. “I really enjoyed it.”

“I did too,” Essie said shyly.

They smiled at each other. Isabelle’s lips parted and Essie’s breath stilled. She wasn’t sure if she was horrified or exhilarated. They remained like that for a heartbeat, then Isabelle’s hand slipped back to her side.

“Well, good night,” Isabelle said.

Essie watched Isabelle walk up her driveway, her chest alive with butterflies. Finally, once Isabelle’s door had closed, she headed into her own house. Essie’s mum was on the couch, her stockinged feet up on the ottoman, a novel splayed on her chest.

“Mum? Where’s Ben?”

“Ben will be home any minute,” she said, rubbing her eyes. Clearly she’d been dozing. As she sat up, the book slid off her chest onto her lap. “There was a problem with his app. It crashed or something. He’s been talking to his technical people.”

“Oh, dear,” Essie said, though she wasn’t really concerned. She was more concerned that she was quite drunk, and even at the age of thirty-two, she felt weird being drunk in front of her mother.

“How were the girls?” she asked.

“Precious. Perfect.” Her mum located her purse on the floor by the couch and stuffed her novel inside. “How was your evening?”

Something was funny about the way she said it.

“It was great,” Essie said. “Really, really fun.” She hiccuped.

“Are you drunk?” her mum asked.

“A little.”

Barbara watched her steadily. Essie got the feeling she was being scrutinized.

“What?” she said. It was rare that Essie had more than one drink. But just because her husband didn’t drink much didn’t mean that she couldn’t.

“I just wonder if you should check in with your psychologist,” Barbara said finally. “Just for a chat. You seem … a little off.”

“Because I went out for a few drinks?”

“No,” she said. “Because—”

Keys jangled in the door and a split-second later, Ben was inside. He flung down his sports bag. “Babs! I am so in your debt I can’t even … Oh look! Two beautiful women. It’s my lucky day!”

“What happened to your app?” Essie asked dutifully.