‘What do you mean, “pack a bag”? Why? What’s happening? You’re scaring me. Why do I need to pack a bag?’ Her voice was high and anxious.
‘No time.’ He breathed heavily. ‘No time to discuss it, Jules, just please,pleasedo as I ask, no questions, just pack and get the kids to do the same.’
‘Is this a joke? I honestly don’t know what to think – you’re being weird! Where are we going? How long are we going for?’ Mentally she ran through her muddled thoughts, trying to remember what clothes were clean or dirty, where she’d put her holdall, where she’d left the novel she was reading ...
‘Please, Jules, no more questions, I’ve got to go. I need to make some calls.’
‘No, Loz, you can’t just call and say this, make my heart pound and leave it at that! What shall I say to the kids?’
‘Fuck!’ he screamed, whether in response to her or to someone else she wasn’t sure, but her whole body jumped just the same. ‘Tell them we need to leave. Tell them their dad has royally fucked up. Tell them he borrowed money from some people who he thought were reasonable, and tell them those people now want their money back and are being very unreasonable. Tell them those same people are getting very close to knowing where he lives and therefore where they live and that they will stop at nothing to get their hands on their cash or anything else they think might be of value. Tell them we are going home because we have no fucking choice! Tell them—’ She heard his sharp intake of breath and then the sound of him crying. ‘Tell them their dad is very sorry. And I’ll be with you as soon as I can.’
This panic, this hysteria, was very different to when they’d left the UK, heading out to make their new life. That time he had calmly stressed two things: first, that this would be the only move they were going to make, and second, there was no urgency, but to avoid the incurrence of huge costs, to make their new life possible, it was better they left sooner rather than later. And she had believed him, but then she had believed lots of things.
Like when he said he was working late, tying up loose ends, when what he actually meant was that he was sneaking grubby sex with Lisa next door while she boxed up their home, tried to placate the kids that it was all going to be okay and had last cups of tea with her bereft mum who kept shaking her head at how far away Australia was. These thoughts sent a fresh batch of tears down her face.
On the day they left their East Melbourne home, even though she knew time was of the essence and that she had to hurry, it was as if her brain and body were out of sync. Her thoughts continuedto race around her head like fireworks in a confined space and yet her hands moved slowly, her legs felt leaden. It was akin to that dream where you have to run to stay safe, but find yourself stuck in one spot, unable to move. Caught. This was similar, although hindsight would reveal it was no dream, but instead the start of a living nightmare. A living nightmare that was still rolling and one only she knew how to make stop, to wake up from, and the answer was to remove herself from the situation.
Three years ago, she had done as he asked: packed a bag, corralled the kids, answered their questions as best she could, watched as their few belongings were bundled into the trunk of the car. She had then tried to keep the mood light, still in the dark as to exactly what they were running from and why, as her husband drove them a little erratically along the coast to Geelong. It felt like hiding out and his jumpiness was infectious. She’d cooked supper on the inadequate stove of the rented motel apartment, taken Cassian and then Domino for long walks to stretch their legs and to change their scenery. She’d listened as Lawrence used a burner phone to book flights, preparing for them to come home. Her heart sank at the prospect, not because she didn’t miss her family and her UK life, she did, but things in Australia had been so perfect – or so she had thought.
But it was all an illusion. Like it or not, she was part of a crazy arse world that she could not even imagine. A dangerous world that was like nothing she had known, and one that filled her with a fear so real that even consideration of it made it hard to sleep and impossible to eat. Compliant, she had done his bidding. He hadn’t had the decency to consult or discuss the move with her and his implicit instruction left her feeling diminished, like an employee – or worse, his charge.
He had almost beamed when he’d said,‘We’re going home...’Like a con artist, a confidence trickster who employed simple tacticsto make you believe it was what was intended all along, nothing but a good thing, selling the idea with such conviction it was easy to get swept up in it.Home... a curious word and one that now mystified her, realising the last time she had felt at home was in her childhood bedroom at her parents’ small house on the Merrigo. The place she had been so desperate to escape.
‘Right, that’s me ready.’ Lawrence spoke from the dressing room and pulled her into the present. She could smell his strong cologne, undercut with minty mouthwash. ‘I’ll see you at Mum and Dad’s. I’ll take the Mini so you can drive comfortably with the kids. Cass is on his way back, apparently, wants to get showered.’
They had a Mini, a runaround for Cassian and the car Domino would drive when she passed her test, although it was Julie’s car, supposedly. This, too, she now had no doubt was either rented or defaulted on – potato potarto.
‘Sure.’ She managed a small smile.
‘I feel good, Jules! Like, really good!’ He exhaled, rolling his shoulders, breathing deeply. He looked like a man without a care in the world. ‘I feel relieved, like this is our new start, our new beginning, nothing left unsaid between us. That’s what we agreed, right?’
‘Yes, a new start. Nothing left unsaid, only the truth from now on.’ She accepted his tight hug –and heard him whistle as he took the stairs quickly in the manner of someone who was loving life – knowing that the truth might be that she had had enough.
Staring now at the suitcase on the bed, she looked from it to the wardrobe and back again, wondering how much time she had. The family would, she knew, be busy welcoming Cleo and Georgie’s little bundle, preoccupied and no doubt being force-fed leftover cheese by a highly agitated Winnie. She could just imagine the fuss, and quite right too – a new baby was a wonderful thing for any family.
What to pack? She wasn’t sure where she was heading or for how long, but one thing she knew with complete certainty: she needed time alone to think. Time out of the eye of the storm where it took all her energy just to remain upright. She needed to go somewhere, anywhere she could take a breath and view the situation with some clarity. If they were to find any way forward, it was entirely necessary to walk away and look at things from the outside in. Her jaw tensed every time she thought about her husband’s parting words. ‘I feel good, Jules! Like, really good!’Lawrence, the man who had plunged her life into this chaos in the first place. The man who was unreliable, a liar. She had always been willing to concede that maybe he lied with the best of intentions, that his actions were all about trying to build the very best life for her and the kids, the people he loved, but what if this had only been her putting a spin on things to justify her own inaction, her cowardice? It was a jarring thought. He was a cheat – had had an affair, and this was a whole other thing.
She pulled a cool cotton maxi dress from the hanger and rolled it tightly, as she’d been taught, popping it into the corner of the case. She remembered packing her one case to leave their East Melbourne home – she’d thrown in a pair of jeans and a navy blouse before rummaging under the pillow for her pyjamas. It had been quite unlike filling a case for a holiday where you could predict the weather – sunny on the beach, cool on the slopes. It was instead packing for a new life, starting over, reminding herself that no matter what, she would embrace all the good things that lay ahead, and they would face whatever came next as a family, together. Yet now she knew that while she willingly did her husband’s bidding, loyal to him and whatever their future held, he had been sleeping with Lisa.He had been sleeping with Lisa!Even the mental reckoning of this made her cry. Fat tears that stung her eyes and trickled down her cheeks.
‘What are you doing?’ Cassian’s voice from the doorway drew her attention.
‘Cass!’ She couldn’t hide her distress. ‘I ... I didn’t know you were back.’
‘What are you doing?’ he repeated.
She saw his breathing coming fast, and his obvious agitation.
‘I just ...’ Her sadness wrapped and weakened her and she sank down on to the bed.
‘Mum, what on earth’s going on?’ He pointed to the case, the flash of distress on his face telling her that he too remembered that dark day in Melbourne when the world they had thought was safe and secure crumbled under their feet. When they had thrown bags into the car, buckled up and headed out. She had smiled at them through the gap in the seats, smiling so hard as if this one facial expression could wipe away the worry, the hurt. It had made her complicit, enabling Lawrence to ride roughshod over the routine and life they had built and the glorious future that had felt within reach.
Keeping her eyes low, she found it easier to talk to the pale wool carpet, avoiding his gaze and any judgement that might lurk there.
‘I just need a little bit of time to get my head straight. I’m not sure I can do it anymore.’
‘Do what?’
She hated the tone of concern from her sweet boy. ‘Pretend. Prop up your dad and all his—’ ‘Lies’, that was the word she wanted to say.Lies. But even at this juncture she was intent on doing her best to preserve his reputation for his son, to smooth the path, to keep things civil. ‘His schemes.’
