‘Oh, sorry,’ Nel mumbled, her face burning with embarrassment at her mistake.
Chapter 34
Sophie sat on the toilet with the white stick in her hand, staring at the little window where a second blue line would soon appear.If she was pregnant.She was in the powder room near the front door, where she would hear Ryan’s car if he decided to drop in unexpectedly.She’d been planning to do the test as soon as she got home on Friday, but he’d arrived home just as she was about to open the box, which she’d scrambled to stash behind the spare towels in the vanity.She didn’t dare to attempt it over the weekend.
The first time she saw those two lines, she’d been giddy with excitement.She closed her eyes, remembering that moment, the first evidence of Charlie’s existence in the world.The moment she became a mother.She’d squealed at the sight of the faint blue line.Ryan had come running, tears welling in his eyes when she held up the stick.They’d clutched each other, his breath warm on her neck.
‘I’m going to look after you,’ he’d said, his tears spilling over.He was determined to be a good dad right from the start.He was protective.He made sure she ate right, got enough sleep, kept up the exercise, even on days when her feet ached and she longed to lie on the sofa and eat Jatz crackers.He didn’t like her going out at night.She was only six months pregnant when he suggested she quit her job.
‘You don’t need to work,’ he’d said.‘I’ll take care of you.’
She’d had a niggling suspicion that Ryan’s keenness for her to resign wasn’t entirely related to the pregnancy—he’d started asking questions about Tom from work—but she’d been flattered by his jealousy.It was proof of his love.For years she’d watched her parents sidestep each other in the kitchen, their eyes looking straight through each other, and wondered why they stayed together.She would never have a marriage like that, she’d promised herself.
They’d agreed that Sophie would keep her own bank account and Ryan would transfer money at the start of each week.‘My money’s our money,’ he’d said.She’d felt so lucky to have a strong man.A man who took his role as a provider seriously.She’d regarded the single mums in her mothers group with pity.
By the next time she saw a second blue line, announcing the imminent arrival of Jasmine, she rarely saw her mothers group anymore.She’d stopped going to the monthly meetings down by the beach when Ryan started to question why she needed them.
‘For support,’ Sophie had said.It had been the wrong thing to say.
‘Don’t I support you?’he’d asked.He took pride in his role as the head of his little family.
‘I mean, emotional support,’ she’d explained.
Ryan had frowned.‘Emotionalsupport?What are youtellingthese people?’
By the time Harvey came along, she only saw them at the school gate or in the supermarket.
‘We’re having dinner at the Thai place in North Carrinya next week,’ Emily had said as they pushed their prams past each other on Manning Street.‘You should come.’
Sophie had said no.She couldn’t afford to eat out.And Ryan wouldn’t like it.Things had escalated by then.Ryan’s stepmother Valerie was diagnosed with bowel cancer when Sophie was fivemonths pregnant and didn’t live to meet Harvey.Sophie had been hopeful that the new baby might bring joy at a time when everyone needed it, but Ryan’s grief manifested in an unexpected way, deepening his paranoia that Sophie would follow in her mother’s unfaithful footsteps and elevating his own mother to the status of a saint.
Nothing Sophie did was right.If she let Harvey cry, she was neglectful.If she brought him into their bed, she was spoiling him.When she continued to breastfeed after the first few months, Ryan would sulk as though he was jealous.When she suggested formula-feeding, he accused her of being lazy and selfish.His own mother had breastfed him and his brothers until they were twelve months old, he said.He credited his robust constitution to her selfless devotion.
It was during this time that he’d become convinced that she was having an affair with the father of one of Charlie’s schoolfriends.Sophie had laughed when he’d voiced his suspicions; it seemed so ludicrous that she didn’t think he could be serious.That was a mistake.It culminated with a punch-up at the Grand.Ryan had copped a suspended sentence and a lifetime ban.
She hated to think what the effect of another pregnancy might be.
She opened her eyes and held up the white stick.
Two lines.
Fuck.
For a few minutes, she sat with her head in her hands, then she got up.There was no time to waste.She went into the kitchen and opened the kids’ laptop.Ryan had bought it during Covid for them to do their assignments and upload them to Google classroom.She clicked on Chrome and opened an incognito window so there would be no record of the sites she visited.She didn’t know if Ryanmonitored the browsing history on this laptop, but she didn’t want to find out.
First she checked the balance of the bank account Ryan didn’t know about.She’d opened it eighteen months ago after seeing an ad for a bank’s Domestic and Family Violence Assistance program on the back of the toilet door at the library.It had been a shock to learn that there were so many women in Sophie’s situation that the bank had a dedicated service to help them.Knowing that made Sophie feel better.And worse.For weeks afterwards, she looked at women differently.Are you in the club?she would wonder, on the street, in the supermarket, at school pick-up.
There was a flutter in her stomach when she saw her balance.$11,752.60.She’d never had that much money before.When she started her secret side hustle, she didn’t know if it would be possible to earn enough to make a difference, but she was getting close.She stared at the figures on the screen.How much would she need?
She went to the corner cupboard and knelt down to reach into the far back corner, behind saucepans and baking dishes and random platters she never used because they never had anyone over.She took out a casserole dish, white glass with an orange floral pattern.It was her mother’s, but she’d left it behind when she moved to Adelaide.Sophie put it on the bench, removed the lid and took out a white linen napkin folded into a rectangle.She lay it on the bench next to the dish and unfolded it.
Her heart raced at the sight of the wad of notes.She fanned through them, a blur of mauve, blue and red.She wouldn’t count it.She’d only counted it a couple of weeks before so there was no need.It wasn’t much anyway, just what she made selling the kids’ old clothes and toys on Facebook Marketplace.She thought Ryan would object when she’d first suggested it—she’d emphasised the environmental benefits rather than the financial ones—but he’d justgiven her a bemused smile as though she was a child asking to have a lemonade stall.Some weeks it was only five bucks, but she figured it was all money.She put the notes up to her nose and took a deep breath, inhaling the synthetic smell.Then she placed them back on the napkin, folded in the sides, put it back in the dish, replaced the lid and carefully positioned it again in the back corner of the cupboard.
She sat on the floor, leaning against the cupboard door.Was it enough?Time was running out.Charlie was growing up so fast.She couldn’t hide the violence from him anymore.Jasmine was escaping into a fantasy world.Even little Harvey was scared of him.She could see him change when Ryan got home.He literally shrank when his father was around.
And the time was right, now, with Nel here, putting Ryan on edge.There wouldn’t be a better chance.
She looked at the clock above the kitchen bench.1:15.She had two hours before the kids would get off the bus.She sat back down in front of the laptop and typedadultchatdownunder.com.auinto the search bar, then entered her login details.At thirty-two cents per message, she made $36 an hour if she answered two per minute.She could make seventy-two bucks by the time they got home.Maybe more.
