Big Little Lies(134)

“Perry, this is Bonnie,” interrupted Celeste. “And this is Jane. She’s Ziggy’s mother.”
Madeline met Celeste’s eyes. She knew they were both thinking about Perry’s cousin. The secret hung in the air between them like an evil amorphous cloud.
“Pleasure to meet you both.” Perry shook their hands and with courtly gestures offered seats to the women.
“Apparently you and your wife donated one hundred thousand dollars to Amnesty International to help our daughter out of a spot,” gabbled on Nathan. He was twirling his Elvis wig around in his hand, and it suddenly flew off and over the balcony and into the darkness. “Oh shit!” He looked over the balcony. “I’ll lose my deposit at the shop.”
Perry removed his own black Elvis wig. “They do get a bit itchy after a while,” he said. He ruffled his hair with his fingertips so he looked boyishly rumpled and sat himself up on a bar stool, his back to the balcony. He looked very tall up on the bar stool, with the sky clearing behind him, clouds backlit by the moonlight from an emerging full moon, like a magical gold disc. Somehow they’d formed a semicircle around Perry, as though he were their leader.
“What’s this about donating one hundred thousand dollars?” he said. “Is this another one of my wife’s secrets? She’s a surprisingly secretive woman, my wife. Very secretive. Just look at that Mona Lisa expression of hers.”
Madeline looked at Celeste. She was sitting on her bar stool with her long legs crossed, her hands folded in her lap. She was completely still. She looked like she was carved out of stone, a sculpture of a beautiful woman. She’d turned slightly so she was looking away from Perry. Was she breathing? Was she all right? Madeline felt her heart speed up. Something was falling into place. Pieces of a puzzle forming a picture. Answers to questions she didn’t know she had.
The perfect marriage. The perfect life. Except Celeste was always so flustered. A little fidgety. A little edgy.
“She also seems to think we have unlimited financial resources,” said Perry. “Doesn’t earn a cent herself, but sure knows how to spend it.”
“Hey now,” said Renata sharply, as if she were remonstrating a child.
“I think we’ve already met,” said Jane to Perry.
Nobody heard her except for Madeline. Jane had remained standing while everyone else perched up on their bar stools. She looked tiny in the middle of them, like a child addressing Perry. She had to tip back her head. Her eyes were very big.
She cleared her throat and spoke again. “I think we’ve already met.”
Perry glanced at her. “Really? Are you sure?” He inclined his head charmingly. “I’m sorry. I don’t recall.”
“I’m sure,” said Jane. “Except you said your name was Saxon Banks.”

Chapter 76
76.

At first his face was completely neutral: friendly, this-is-of-no-relevance-to-me polite. He didn’t recognize her. I wouldn’t know her from a bar of soap! The cheery phrase popped inappropriately into her head. Something her mum would say.
But when she said “Saxon Banks” there was a flicker, not because he recognized her, he still had no idea, couldn’t even be bothered to go to the effort of dredging up the appropriate memory, but because he understood who she must be, what she represented. She was one of many.
He’d lied about his name. It had never occurred to her that he would do that. As if your name could not be fabricated, even though you could fabricate your personality, fabricate your attention.
“I kept thinking I might run into you,” she said to him.
?   ?   ?

Perry?” said Celeste.
Perry turned to her.
His face was naked again, like in the car, as though something had been ripped away. Ever since Madeline had first mentioned Saxon’s name on the night of the book club, there had been something niggling at Celeste, a memory from before the children were born, before Perry hit her for the first time.
That memory slid into place now. Fully intact. As though it had just been waiting for her to retrieve it.
It was Perry’s cousin’s wedding. The one where Saxon and Perry had driven all the way back to the church to collect Eleni’s mobile phone. They were sitting at a round table. White starched tablecloth. Giant bows tied around the chairs. Light hitting the wineglasses. Saxon and Perry were telling stories. Stories of a shared suburban childhood: homemade billy carts and the time Saxon saved Perry from the bullies at school and what about the time when Perry brazenly stole a banana paddle pop from the freezer at the fish and chip shop and the big scary Greek man grabbed him by the scruff of his neck in one big beefy hand and said, “What’s your name?” and Perry said, “Saxon Banks.” The fish and chip shop owner called Saxon’s mother and said, “Your son stole from me,” and Saxon’s mother said, “My son is right here,” and hung up on him.