Good Girl Bad (31)

Because why else would your mother put you down and take such care to show how much she despises you?

“But it happens all the time,” she’d said, softly, and could see with absolute clarity that Freddy didn’t get it in the slightest.

But not him. He might not have seen it in action, but he understood it, even that first time she confided in him. He understood. It made her heart soar.

“You poor little duck,” he’d said, and he was so genuinely pained for her, and outraged for her, and it was such a relief to finally have someone understand how painful it was, how terrifying, someone who didn’t minimize it, or tell her it didn’t sound that bad, that when he’d opened his arms to comfort her, she had been overcome with so much relief that she’d fallen into them, and sobbed and sobbed and sobbed. And when he lifted her chin and stared into her eyes and then kissed her, she had never felt so close to anyone her whole entire life.

She would have crawled inside his body to get closer to him if she could.





25





Wednesday

Nancy peers in her daughter’s bedroom. It’s still dark, the blinds drawn aggressively, despite it being mid-afternoon, and Nancy shifts uneasily in the doorway.

“Freddy? Hon?”

She gets that Freddy is worried about Tabby. They all are. The thought of it all makes her sick to her stomach.

“Honey. Nate’s here. He wants to ask you about Tabby. Do you think you could talk to him?”

“No.” Freddy sounds wide awake, and her voice is hard. Nancy is taken aback.

“I know you’re worried, honey. And I know you wouldn’t want to betray any secrets. But you might know something, something small that could help them to find Tabby.” Nancy repeats what Nate had said to her, why he was there. She’s not entirely comfortable with Nate questioning her daughter—there was that incident on Messenger, Rebecca had mentioned it when Nancy had expressed her condolences about the separation, and she didn’t know the details, but it sounded like Nate had done something creepy online to a woman, enough for the marriage to break down over it—but she thinks about if the roles were reversed, and feels a panic so overwhelming she can’t do anything but acquiesce.

She would do the same. Talk to anyone who could tell her anything.

Gingerly, she steps into the room and slowly rolls up the blinds, and Freddy curses her. Nancy is even more taken aback.

“Honey. His daughter is missing. Be reasonable. And please don’t speak to me like that.”

She watches the shape under the doona for a minute, then heads back toward the door. “I’ll tell Nate you’ll be down in five minutes. Please don’t make me come back up.”

Downstairs, Nancy smiles apologetically at Nate. “She’s been pretty upset. Spending a lot of time in her room. She’ll be down shortly. I’ve asked her though; I don’t think she knows anything that could help you. But of course we’ll try.”

Nancy offers Nate a cup of tea, and he asks if she has any coffee. She nods and turns on their machine.

“How’s Gen?”

Nate looks haggard. He often looks tired when Nancy sees him, but she sees him infrequently. Occasionally at school pickup. These days the girls got around on their bikes a lot. She didn’t drop Freddy to anyone’s house, unless they lived across town.

She had felt sorry for him after the separation, despite whatever it was he’d done. It seemed as though his middle-class life had taken a nosedive. She’d surmised bits and pieces from throw-away lines from Freddy or Tabby, but Nancy was too polite to ask them for any details.

The most important thing was that he was still there for the kids. And Tabby seemed to adore him.

“She’s much the same as Freddy I suppose. Teary. Quiet. She called her grandparents. I didn’t even know they were in touch. But they’ve taken her to stay at a hotel. Someone was in the house last night. Going through Tabby’s room. The police have dusted for fingerprints, but it seems like there’s more going on than Tabby just running away and obviously we want someone to keep Gen safe. Rebecca is estranged from her parents though; it feels weird for them to have Gen.”

Nate is rambling, not even really registering Nancy’s presence, and her heart skips a beat.

An intruder?

What on earth was Tabby mixed up in?

And she knows it’s selfish, and horrible, but as she listens to Nate, all she can think of is how to keep Freddy out of it.

She knew that girl was going to be trouble, dammit.

Freddy was far too nice and loyal. Far too committed to this one friendship. Nancy knew she should have pressed more to keep the other friends more involved. But after that one movie night, it had all fizzled out again. There was only Tabby.

“Nate.”

Freddy is wearing her father’s jumper. It hangs down to her knees, and she looks tiny and child-like. She doesn’t quite meet Nate’s eyes.

“Freddy. Sweetheart. How are you? This must all be so upsetting for you.” Nancy is grateful to see that the sight of Freddy has pulled him out of himself a little. He looks genuinely worried, and a little bit shocked at how different Freddy looks. Nancy hopes he’ll be gentle with her, and is sticking close to intervene if he is not.

“Fine.” Freddy is short, sitting on the edge of a barstool as far away from Nate as she can be.