Answer: the square root of sweet Fanny Adams.
‘I felt so alone,’ he murmured.
‘Me too.’ Again, the truth. And it was on a day of sweet reconnection, with the sun breaking through the clouds, a shared bag of fish and chips, sitting on a hill overlooking the city of Melbourne in the country they had chosen to make their home that he gave her the bag. A lovely thing, a gift for their cherished new start.
‘I went to see my mum and dad one night, a few months before we left, and bumped into Lisa next door.’
Daisy’s mum, Lisa Harrop, poor girl... Julie didn’t know her, not really. Knew of her, of course, but by all accounts, she was a bit of a troubled one, depression or something, she wasn’t sure.
‘I cheated on you, Jules.’
She moved her arms so she could see his face and stared at him, convinced she must have misheard. It made no sense; she’d thought he said ...
‘What?’ It felt as if her legs belonged to someone else as they trembled. Her heart raced and her fingers shook. ‘What?’ She could only repeat. The room suddenly felt airless.
‘I ... I cheated on you. I cheated on you.’
She took a step backwards.
‘Oh!’
It was a lament, a moment of impact, the crashing down of the emotional fortress that she thought she lived within. Infidelity was not something she had felt concerned with. Never. It was a thought that hadn’t troubled her, not ever. Not with Lawrence. Her Lawrence who was rubbish with money, who made bad choices about careers and who had ideas and plans far bigger than he could ever deliver, but the fact that he tried at all was, for her, something to be admired. He wasn’t a bad person, just a trusting one; a man with issues that meant he didn’t know when to quit, to say no, to come clean ... But cheating on her, having sex with someone else? No. Not him. She would have staked the last bank note in her purse that he would never, ever do that to her. That was if he hadn’t taken her last bank note and given it as a tip to Daisy.
Her stomach felt like it dropped to her feet. Light-headed, she staggered backwards until she hit the wall and slid down it, sitting with her knees raised and her head falling forward. She couldn’t look at him. It felt like the room was spinning. She closed her eyes.
‘I don’t believe it. I don’t. Not you. You cheated on me?’ She needed it confirmed, because despite understanding what he had said, it made no sense! She had never thought – never – that he could ... that he might ... She felt her breath come in shallow bursts.
‘I’m sorry! And if I could turn back time—’
‘Who ... who with?’ she interrupted him; to hear his apology was like lighting the touchpaper.
Lawrence blinked quickly and his lip stuck to his teeth; he was nervous, she could tell, but that was just too bloody bad. Anger wrapped in humiliation had started to edge out her shock.
‘Lisa,’ he whispered.
‘Lisa next door to Winnie? Daisy’s mum?’ She of course knew which Lisa he meant, there was only one Lisa, but still it felt so impossible she needed to hear it confirmed.
He nodded.
She placed her hand over her mouth to stop the vomit reaching her lips.
‘No!’ She shook her head. ‘No. I can’t believe it, Loz, I can’t. It’s like a bad dream. I never, ever thought ... I can’t believe it!’ She was well aware of her repetition, but no other words seemed fitting.
He got down from the chair and came to where she sat on the floor, crouching, imploring. ‘Listen to me, Jules.’ He grabbed her arms and fixed his gaze on her face, his tone urgent. This wasn’t the first time he’d done this: physically held her as if this might make his words more earnest, his determination more keenly felt, his spiel more believable.
‘Listen to me, Jules, we can start over – we can go to Australia! Leave our worries here and go live in the sunshine! It will be paradise!’
‘Listen to me, Jules, we can start over – go back to the UK, and leave our worries here, go live a quiet life! It will be paradise!’
She grimaced at the thought of what he might say and how many times he might think they could crisscross the globe, running, reinventing, with the same high expectations, the same lies, only for it all to come crashing down when the one common denominator that they couldn’t outrun or hide from messed up yet again. And that common denominator was him.Him.
Armed with the knowledge of what he had done and with these thoughts, her desire to move forward together, as a couple, began to slip from her. Replaced with a cold, hard resolution that enough was actually enough. Looking towards the door as he held her fast, she couldn’t wait to be away from him, so she could breathe, think, plan ...
‘And I know this sounds harsh, but it was no big deal,’ he began, and she smarted at the disservice he did them both. The flippant way he discarded the issue and the fact that he must think she was very stupid. It was clear he now wanted to talk, wanted to get it all off his chest and maybe for him it was cathartic. But his words were like smoke, twisting and twirling high above them, filling her lungs and throat with their essence and leaving her a little breathless.
He gabbled on. ‘We used to have a thing when we were at school. Lisa and me. We’d meet up when our parents were out – it was just sex really.’
Lisa and me...Lisa and me...Lisa and me...
