Big Little Lies(38)

“I know,” said Ed. “Although I guess after what happened, you can sort of see it from Renata’s point of view—”
“No you can’t!” cried Madeline.
“Jesus. Sorry. No. Of course I can’t.” Ed looked in the rearview mirror. “Oh, look, here’s your poor little friend pulled up behind us. Let’s go eat cake with her. That will fix things.”
He undid his seat belt.
“If you’re not asking every child in the class, you don’t hand out the invitations on the playground,” said Madeline. “Every mother knows that. It’s a law of the land.”
“I could talk about this subject all day long,” said Ed. “I really could. There is nothing else I want to talk about today other than Amabella’s fifth-birthday party.”
“Shut up,” said Madeline.
“I thought we didn’t say ‘shut up’ in our house.”
“Fuck off, then,” said Madeline.
Ed grinned. He put a hand to the side of her face. “You’ll feel better tomorrow. You always feel better tomorrow.”
“I know, I know.” Madeline took a deep breath and opened the car door to see Jane’s mother fling herself out of Jane’s car and hurry along the sidewalk toward her, slinging her handbag over her shoulder and smiling frantically. “Hi! Hi there! Madeline, will you just walk along the beach with me for a bit while the others order our coffee?”
“Mum.” Jane walked behind with her father. “You’ve seen the beach. You don’t even like the beach!”
You didn’t have to be gifted and talented to see that Jane’s mother wanted to talk alone with Madeline.
“Of course I will . . . Di.” The name came to her like a gift.
“I’ll come too then,” sighed Jane.
“No, no, you go into the café and help your dad get settled and order something nice for me,” said Di.
“Yes, because I’m such a doddering old senior citizen.” Jane’s father put on a quavering old man’s voice and clutched Jane’s arm. “Help me, darling daughter.”
“Off you go,” said Di firmly.
Madeline watched Jane struggle with whether or not to insist, before giving a tiny shrug and giving up.
“Don’t take too long,” she said to her mother. “Or your coffee will get cold.”
“Get me a double-shot espresso and the chocolate mud cake with cream,” said Madeline to Ed.
Ed gave her a thumbs-up and led Jane and her father into Blue Blues, while Madeline reached down and slipped off her shoes. Jane’s mother did the same.
“Did your husband take the day off work for Chloe’s first day at school?” asked Di as they walked across the sand toward the water. “Oh, goodness, the glare!” She was wearing sunglasses, but she shielded her eyes with the back of her hand.
“He’s a journalist for the local paper,” said Madeline. “He’s got very flexible hours, and he works from home a lot.”
“That must be nice. Or is it? Does he get under your feet?” Di picked her way unsteadily across the sand. “Sometimes I send Bill off to buy me something at the supermarket I don’t really need, just to give myself a little breather.”
“It works pretty well for us,” said Madeline. “I work three days a week for the Pirriwee Peninsula Theatre Company, so Ed can pick the kids up when I’m working. We’re not making a fortune but, you know, we both love our jobs, so we’re happy.”
My God, why was she talking about money? It was like she was defending their choice of lifestyles. (And to be honest, they didn’t love their jobs that much.) Was it because she sometimes felt like her whole life was in competition with high-flying career women like Renata? Or was it just because money was on her mind because of that shocking electricity bill she’d opened this morning? The truth was that although they weren’t wealthy, they were certainly not struggling, and thanks to Madeline’s savvy online shopping skills, even her wardrobe didn’t need to suffer.
“Ah, yes, money. They say it doesn’t buy happiness, but I don’t know about that.” Di pushed her hair out of her eyes and looked around the beach. “It is a very pretty beach. We’re not really beach people, and obviously no one wants to see this in a bikini!” She made a face of pure loathing and gestured at her perfectly ordinary body, which Madeline judged to be about the same size as her own.
“I don’t see why not,” said Madeline. She had no patience for this sort of talk. It drove her to distraction the way women wanted to bond over self-hatred.