‘So what did everyone think of the book?’ Faye took control, otherwise they were in danger of chatting way into the night before they even mentioned books.
Their latest read wasWhere the Crawdads Singand this time everyone had finished it. They didn’t always – Margot usually did, so did Howard and Sarah, but Faye was sometimes too busy with her job and Joel rarely got to the end of a book before the discussion. They’d pondered doing this only once a fortnight so everyone had a chance to read a full book, but to Margot’s relief even those who didn’t make it every week wanted it to continue the way it was. ‘More chance of me making it then,’ Sarah had said.
‘I galloped through this one,’ Howard enthused.
‘I finished but it was a heavy read,’ said Margot.
Sarah hadn’t warmed to the story at all, and Joel had only liked it in parts.
Another Midnight Book Club had begun, and Margot had an hour of escape before she would have to slip back into bed, alongside the man she’d met one chilly January night, the man who had subtly changed over time. He wasn’t abusive. He provided and then some, but emotionally he was closed off. And perhaps worst of all, he didn’t see her as anything other than his wife.
And he probably never would.
2
FAYE
Hosting the Midnight Book Club gave Faye a sense of normality and calm. It was as much of an escape as reading books and she’d needed it more than ever since the scandal broke and its subsequent fallout caused her whole world to fall apart.
Howard was right that the Aussie contingent of the book club had fallen away. She’d had one member (who she’d thought a friend) email to tell her that she didn’t want to be linked with the Gunnersons – Faye’s family – online, because you never knew who was watching these days. Another member had messaged to say, ‘You’re her, from the news!’ She’d replied to point out that no, she wasn’t. She’d been forced to add that the ‘her’ in question was her identical twin sister, Steph, also twenty-nine years old, also with bobbed blonde hair and a side part, as well as blue eyes and golden-kissed skin.
It seemed whatever her sister did still had the power to ruin things for Faye even after all these years.
Faye hadn’t known anything about the scandal until the day she returned home to her apartment block after a long shift at the hairdressing salon where she worked. She’d bumped smack into a photographer who shoved his camera in her face to get the best shot, and badgered her all the way into her building. He’d called out enough questions that she got the gist of what had unfolded and once inside all she’d had to do was open up the internet on her phone to see exactly what was going on. It was all over the news. All over social media.
The scandal had been following her around ever since and she was only glad that her mother was far away and her dad was on the other side of the world. Both of them were aware of what was happening but at least neither of them were in the firing line – her dad because it would break his heart to see his daughters suffering, her mum because Faye wasn’t sure she would be much help at all. Daria Gunnerson had always been selfish, didn’t give much thought to other people’s feelings when she decided to do something, and it seemed that with Steph, it was a case of like mother, like daughter.
Three weeks after the news that her sister was having an affair with a married politician more than twice her age broke, Faye hoped the gossip might have fizzled out, that people would move on to something else, but she’d been kidding herself. And what was worse was that Brad, the man she’d committed to spending the rest of her life with had left her to deal with it all on her own. He’d buggered off when the news hit, hiding away at his family’s holiday house in Tasmania for the last few weeks, away from the glare of the media and the gossips. Then again, she supposed it was hard for him too. The young woman in the scandal was her sister, but the man embroiled in the affair was Brad’s father.
As well as working as a hairdresser, Faye often helped out at her dad’s water-sports business on an ad hoc basis. With her dad out of the country for the foreseeable future to be with his brother, his friend, Hugo, had stepped in to look after things and Faye had agreed to put more hours in for lessons with customers. Last week, however, she wished she hadn’t been quite so helpful. She’d been booked in to take a beginner kayaker out on the Noosa River. The man had been clever. He hadn’t asked her any questions before they got on the water – he was clearly a beginner and had no clue – and he’d waited until they were well away from their launching spot before he revealed he was a journalist wanting to get a different take on her sister’s affair with a key politician.
That journalist had been lucky she’d led him back to dry land and not left him out there on the river to make his own way back. She’d been sorely tempted.
She felt her shoulders drop now as the current members of the Midnight Book Club got to talking about their latest read.
Faye had taken on this book club to continue her auntie, Clare’s legacy. Auntie Clare had been a dreadful insomniac and during those wee small hours when she couldn’t sleep Clare had found herself on book forums and threads, desperately grasping for something to take the edge off. She’d told Faye once that insomnia was dreadful but that at least she’d had books, and when she founded the book club which she ran at the midnight hour and realised other people had the same problem as she did it was as though everything had come together. She’d run the club for five years and had told Faye more than once that she would never ever give it up. When she knew she was sick she’d been so determined that it carry on after she was gone that she’d instructed Faye’s Uncle Frank to give Faye the money to cover an upgrade on Zoom. That way the sessions could run as far into the night as members needed.
Members were now all Northern Hemisphere people apart from Faye, but perhaps she should be glad about that. Without other Australian members the club had become a safe haven away from the news at home and any gossipmongers. She could lose herself in book discussions with Sarah, who was an unlikely thriller addict given she looked like a sweet old lady who would go for something cosy; she could hear about historical fiction from Winston, the classics from Howard, true crime from Joel, or women’s fiction and romance from Margot.
Faye could do book talk. It gave her a different focus, allowed her to forget everything else. Stories helped her distance herself, regroup, get some perspective. She could pretend she was in a different world, not her real world, which at the moment was pretty grim.
At this morning’s book club there had been five of them in the end, including her two favourite members, Howard and Margot, who never missed a week. It was worrying to hear that Howard was still getting visits from a developer who had set their sights on the bookshop. But knowing Howard, he would be polite but firm. She only hoped they were nice to him. He didn’t deserve to be hassled.
‘I was engrossed from start to finish,’ Howard had said after they’d discussed characters, the setting, the underlying messages in the book. ‘It was a powerful story.’
‘It’s been made into a movie too,’ Margot announced.
‘I’ve seen it,’ Faye admitted. ‘I watched it before I started reading the book.’
‘You know the movie is never as good as the book,’ Howard insisted. Sarah was inclined to agree with him.
‘The book was powerful,’ said Faye. ‘But actually, I think I got to grips with the book more after seeing it on screen. I don’t feel like it ruined the story for me.’
‘Each to their own,’ Howard replied with a nod from Sarah. Faye loved that they all had different opinions; it was what made their book club interesting.
‘Not a moviegoer?’ Margot asked Howard.
‘Not really, are you?’
