Chapter Twenty Eight
B ea stared at her phone, trying to work out what was going on. The message just said to stay at home, that Alli was on her way.
Why? She wondered.
She missed Alli, missed seeing her every day, missed being close to her, seeing her smile. But she was adult enough to realize that real life had to intrude at some point. They both had adult lives to get back to, and they’d talked about this, talked about how to compromise, how to make this work.
And at lunchtime on a Monday, Alli very much should be at work. Unless, Bea thought, unless something had happened. Maybe Alli had lost her temper again. Or, and this looked a little more possible, maybe Alli had quit.
Yes, that was it. Maybe she’d gone back to work and discovered that it wasn’t what she wanted at all, that it was too stressful or… or something.
She was pacing around the living room, still stumbling over boxes. Marilyn and Robbie were both at work. She and Allie would have the place to themselves. She should be happy about this, excited, but… But she wasn’t. There was something wrong. Something she couldn’t put her finger on.
And when the doorbell finally rang, her stomach was twisting itself into knots and she was shaking as she walked to the door.
She took a deep breath and opened it. Alli was standing there, her face almost unrecognizable, her skin flushed, her eyes fiery. Bea swallowed. “Hi.”
“Don’t ‘hi’ me,” spat Alli. “Don’t even… How could you? How could you do this to me? You know how important it is, you know what I had to lose and then you go and do something like this… like…” She stumbled, stuttered, the words not able to get out fast enough.
Next door, a door opened and Bea’s neighbor stuck his head out. “You alright, Bea?” he asked.
“She’s fine,” Alli said.
Bea made a judgment call. Perhaps the wrong one, but she still didn’t know what this was about, still didn’t know what was going on. “I’m fine,” she said. “Totally fine. Thanks though.” She smiled at him and opened the front door wider. “Come in,” she said to Alli.
Alli practically barged past her. “I can’t believe you’d do something so fucking stupid. Or so cruel. How could you?”
Bea closed the front door. There had to be some mistake here. “How could I what?”
“And now you’re going to play innocent,” said Alli. She was standing in the middle of the living room floor, hands on her hips, cheeks flaming red. “I trusted you.”
“Of course you can trust me,” Bea said, offended at the thought that Alli might think she couldn’t. “What’s going on here?”
Alli rolled her eyes and looked like she was going to spit. “I got fired, that’s what’s fucking going on. Fired. Do you understand that? Fired as in I’ve got no job, as in the thing that I’ve worked for my whole life is over. As in my career is down the toilet. As in, I’ve lost everything. So thank you so much, Bea.”
Bea just stared at her.
“Nothing to say for yourself?” Alli said. “Not surprising. There’s no defense really, is there? You’re either colder and crueler than I expected, or you’re actually stupid. ”
“I’m not stupid,” Bea said automatically. “And I still don’t understand what the hell’s going on here. Why did you get fired?”
Alli snorted. “Yeah, right.”
Bea stood her ground. “I don’t understand.”
???
For a second there, Alli almost bought it, almost fell for it. Then she remembered the look on Darren’s face, remembered the burning shame in her stomach, remembered that there was no way anyone else could be responsible for this. And the anger took over all over again.
“You don’t understand?” she screamed. “You don’t fucking understand? What is there to understand? You got me fired. You lost me my job. You and your stupid report.”
“What report?” Bea asked.
Alli closed her eyes, took big, deep breaths, but they did nothing to calm her. Nothing to change anything. The whole drive over, she’d tried to think of another explanation, tried to find a way to calm the anger inside her, to direct it at someone else. But she just couldn’t.
The job hurt, but Bea’s betrayal hurt more. How could she have done this? The one time she let her guard down and trusted someone, the one time she let someone in, and then this happened and Alli just realized all over again why she was better off alone.
She might not be broken, but she was definitely an army of one.
And somehow Bea had to pay for this.
“Your stupid fucking report,” she said again. “Telling tales on me, saying that I didn’t go to your stupid little classes, saying that I hadn’t completed the program.”
“Wait, you mean my attendance report?” said Bea, looking confused .
Alli’s stomach burned with acid. “Yes, you idiot, your stupid fucking attendance report.”
Bea turned ashen. “But… but…”
“But nothing,” said Alli. “Your stupid report meant that Luke didn’t graduate me from the program. Just like you knew it would. And guess what? Now I don’t have a job anymore. So thank you so much for that.”
It was shame, that was part of it. The shame of turning up that morning all bright and ready to work, ready to change things, ready to compromise a little just for Bea. And then to have that all dashed, thrown in her face, to have everything snatched away from her in a moment. It made her blood boil.
“Alli…”
“Don’t. Don’t even say my name,” Alli said. “I don’t want to hear it. Don’t want to hear you. I’m just here to let you know that you’ve ruined my fucking life. Ruined it. Understood? So whatever conscience you have can hold that over you for the rest of your life. If you even care.”
“Of course I care,” Bea said. She was white and looked sick. “Of course I care.”
“Yeah, right. That’s why you did it, because you care.”
“I didn’t do it,” said Bea. “Well, I did. But not intentionally. Well, kind of. I mean…”
“Yes, what do you mean?” Alli asked, super saccharine sweet. “Why don’t you explain everything, if you can? Go ahead, try and talk your way out of this.”
Bea took a shuddering breath. “I just filled out the report,” she said. “I filled it out honestly like I was supposed to. I did tell you, Alli. I told you that I had reports to file, I told you that participation was important.”
“And I fucking participated!”
“I know,” said Bea. “I know you did. The second half of the classes you participated in. I put that in the report. And I put that you participated in group therapy, that you shared and did everything you were supposed to. I didn’t lie, Alli. I didn’t. All I did was tell the truth. ”
Alli shook her head. “All you did was ruin my life.”
Bea took a step forward.
“No,” said Alli, holding out her hands to stop Bea coming closer. “Don’t even think about it. I don’t want you near me.”
“What did you expect me to do?” Bea pleaded. “I was doing my job, telling the truth. I had no idea that Luke wouldn’t graduate you from the program just because of that. Of course I didn’t.”
Alli balled her fists at her side, trying to hold on to something, trying to find some other way that this could all work out, some other explanation or justification or anything.
“What would you have done?” asked Bea. “This is my job. Wouldn’t you have done the same? I know that you love your job, that you wouldn’t risk it, that—”
“Loved,” Alli growled. “Loved as in past tense. As in, I no longer have a job. As in you made me lose it. I just can’t…” She trailed off, lost for words, and Bea tried to come closer again.
“Alli, I’m sorry, I don’t know what to say, I don’t…”
“Stay the hell away from me,” Alli said. She could see Bea’s warm dark eyes, she could practically feel her skin, could see her as though through a veil. She wanted so much for this to go away, all of it, for it to be just her and Bea, but that was over now, it was all over now.
“Alli, please.”
“No,” said Alli. “No. Stay away from me. Stay the hell away from me. This is all your fault. I’ve lost everything. Do you get that? Could you even begin to understand?” She shook her head. “Of course you can’t. How could you?”
“I do,” Bea began.
“No, no, you don’t. You with your crappy little teaching job, you who wants nothing more than for everyone to be happy, you who sacrifices herself every hour of every day like you’re some kind of modern martyr. You couldn’t possibly understand what it’s like to lose something this important, this integral.”
“Alli, please, let’s talk about this.”
“There’s nothing to talk about,” Alli said. She turned back toward the door of the tiny flat. “Nothing at all. You’ve ruined my life. That’s the end. There’s nothing more to say.”
“Alli—”
“What? You were just doing your job? You were just following orders? You were just trying to avoid confrontation with Luke? I don’t care what your excuses are, Bea. You’ve ruined my life. Destroyed it. All because you can’t think for yourself.”
“All because I did my job and told the truth,” Bea said stubbornly.
For a second, Alli saw fire burning in Bea’s eyes. She laughed. “So now there’s something you’re passionate about, huh? Now you can stand up for yourself. Forget it, Bea. Just fucking forget it.”
The anger was boiling up again, rising until it filled her from head to toe, until it was all she could think about, until it was all she was. And with the tiniest piece of herself that was left she managed to open the front door, managed to walk out, managed to leave before she did something she’d truly regret.