Chapter 24
TWENTY-FOUR
SIXTEEN YEARS AGO
Camilla
Not long after my visit to the bar, as I’m contemplating my next move, I become aware that needing to help Sophie is just the tip of the iceberg of my issues. One morning I wake to a scribbled piece of paper that’s been slid under my door by my delightful room-mates.
Hey, we’ve been talking and we all agree that you’re just not right for this house. We think you should leave.
They can’t actually kick me out. But I also know that I have zero desire to keep living with people who dislike me so much. My only problem is money. I promised Sophie that I will get the money for her, that I will help her and I will, I definitely will. But now I need money for myself as well.
And then, just like that, the universe provides. My phone rings and when I see it’s my mother, I almost don’t pick up, but then I consider that she might be able to give me some cash.
‘Hey, Mum,’ I say.
‘Camilla,’ she says, sounding shocked that I answered. I usually let her go to voicemail and then send a reply text message.
‘Yup, it’s me, what’s up? How are the girls?’
‘Good, they’re good. We’re all fine. Are you okay?’
‘Well,’ I begin, readying myself to ask for what I need so I can get out of this share house as quickly as possible.
‘I’m just calling,’ she says, interrupting, ‘to tell you that Bert and I will be away for two months. We’re leaving in two days. We’re going to do a tour of Europe and the girls are staying with friends. It would be nice if you would… look in on them.’
‘Oh,’ I reply, wondering exactly how much something like that would cost.
‘Yes, we’ve been saving for years and it’s something we’ve always dreamed of doing and the girls have lovely friends to stay with and I’ll text the addresses but, of course, they have their phones. It will be so nice if you could just check in on them every now and again.’
I’m about to tell my mother that I certainly will not be taking over the role of mother while she’s away when it occurs to me that if she and Bert are away and the girls are staying with friends, my childhood home is empty.
‘Sure, absolutely,’ I reply. ‘You have a great time. You deserve a holiday.’
‘Oh, Camilla, thank you. I really appreciate that. I’ll bring you back souvenirs from everywhere.’
‘Can’t wait,’ I reply. She says goodbye sounding happy, if a little flustered.
I’ll be out in three days, I write on a piece of paper and stick it on the fridge and then I spend the rest of my time in the house packing.
Two months rent free. Amazing.
When I’m sure they’re gone because my mother says ‘goodbye’ one final time, I splurge on a cab, load it up with my stuff and go home, or at least to my mother’s house. It hasn’t felt like home in years but it’s empty and it’s free.
I believe that by the time my mother and Coach return, Sophie’s problem and my problems will be sorted and I’m actually feeling really positive for the first time in a long time.
Thank God, no one thought to take away my key.
The house still looks the same as it did when I was last here, although Sophie and Lia’s rooms have garish pink and purple princess canopy beds.
And there are pictures everywhere of the two girls and my mother and stepfather.
Sophie is scowling in a few of them which makes me laugh.
Lia is an artist and on the swim team so she is definitely the favoured daughter and I can see a lot more pictures of her with her medals and her drawings than I can of Sophie.
The desire to set the whole place on fire and just walk away is almost overwhelming but then I remember – free rent.
I still don’t have a full-time job but at least I still have my part-time job at the museum and my tutoring job.
I didn’t care when I originally took those jobs because I thought it was temporary and that my life would be very different but now…
now. Sometimes when I step back and picture my life, I see it as a tower of disappointments piled one on top of the other, threating to topple over and squash me.
I have recently added another terrible disappointment to the list, something I had wanted forever. But instead of thinking about it, instead of letting it consume me, I send a message to Reese and Victoria.
Hey, let’s celebrate Reese’s last few days as a free woman. I’m staying at my parents’ house and would love to see you guys on Friday night. Mexican food and margaritas provided! Please, please come, I text both of them, hating how desperate and pathetic I sound.
I wait, unpacking a little but not too much and ordering myself a pizza to pick up from a place close by. They’re talking to each other, I know they are, wondering if they can tell me ‘no thanks’, politely.
I’m getting ready to message Reese and remind her that I know an awful lot about her and that it would be great if we could just get together when a message comes through from Victoria.
Okay, we’ll be there.
I have to swallow my bitterness at her speaking for the both of them.
The next day, I use the last of my money to buy some snacks and alcohol. My next pay checks can’t come soon enough.
I know I’m going to enjoy this evening with Reese and Victoria, even though I feel I have been forced into doing what I’m going to do. I resolve to think about everything else tomorrow, when I know that my life will be very different.
By 5 p.m. I’ve made margaritas and nachos and have a chocolate mud cake – only from the supermarket but good enough.
Reese will bring some elaborate dish she’s made and I’m sure Victoria will bring some wine because she considers herself a connoisseur, despite the fact that no twenty-four-year-old drinks wine with any seriousness.
When the bell rings, I’ve already had two margaritas so I’m pleasantly woozy.
‘Here comes the bride,’ I sing as I fling open the door to find them both standing there. Reese giggles and ducks her head like she’s embarrassed.
‘I brought lasagne,’ she says. ‘It’s Lawrence’s favourite dish so I’ve been taking lessons from his mum and I have to practise at home.’
‘Lawrence is very lucky and now so are we,’ I say with a smile that’s so wide, my cheeks ache. I know the truth. I know more than even you know.
‘I brought a bottle of Cabernet Merlot from France, so you’d better appreciate it,’ says Victoria.
‘Wow, expensive,’ I reply, hating how boppy I am forcing myself to sound.
‘Well, in eight days’ time, Reese will be Mrs Lawrence Holmes the Third, and that’s something to celebrate.’
‘Come on, let’s get some drinks into us,’ I say.
When we’re all settled in the living room, on the floor, not the sofas that I know are still in pristine condition because Bert is obsessed with them, I smile at my two best friends, or used to be two best friends. Probably were only ever best friends in my imagination, if I think about it.
‘Is everything organised for the wedding, all the final details in place?’ I ask.
‘Just about. The hen night is tomorrow night as you know and Lawrence is having his bachelor’s the same night so we’ve agreed to meet up afterwards, just because that seems like a fun thing to do.’
‘It does,’ I agree. Pathetic.
‘I’m not so sure about that,’ says Victoria. ‘I wanted it to be just girls. You need to get a little wild in your last few days as a single woman.’
Bet you don’t know how wild she got when we met for drinks, I think as I smile at Victoria.
‘Oh, you know me,’ says Reese, ducking her head again and blushing. ‘I’m just so ready to be a wife and maybe even have a baby.’
‘But you’re only twenty-four,’ I protest, thinking of everything she told me in the bar.
‘I know but I feel like… Lawrence and I have so much and we’ve been so lucky.
His mother says that these are the best years to get pregnant and Lawrence really wants a baby.
’ She smiles and nods as she speaks like she thinks the whole ‘baby in your early twenties’ thing is a good idea but I sense that she’s not completely onboard.
Things are not rosy in the marriage-to-be garden. But, of course, I know that already.
‘Well, maybe a year or two of working before that,’ says Victoria. I’m willing to bet that Victoria has been encouraging her to get a few years of experience in the workplace before she ties herself down with a baby.
‘Should we play the game?’ I ask, trying hard to hide my impatience.
‘Yes, but me first because I’m the bride,’ Reese says with a giggle.
I replenish our margaritas, anticipation fizzing around my body.
‘Of course, you first,’ says Victoria with an indulgent smile. I nod, making sure my grin remains in place.
‘Okay,’ says Reese. ‘Yesterday Lawrence surprised me with a trip to Tahiti for our honeymoon, flying first class, even though we were going to travel around Australia in a camper van. Lawrence and I are going to spend a year in London while he works for a friend of his father’s.’
‘Wow,’ I say. ‘Tahiti.’ Like they were ever going to slum it in a camper van.
And Reese giggles. I cannot imagine a world where I get to travel to Tahiti, let alone first class.
I cannot imagine a world where everything is just handed to me on a platter.
I pick up my drink and down half of it, hoping that enough alcohol will quell my thoughts and also, it must be said, to give me some much-needed courage.
‘Yep, but now, onto someone else. Victoria, your turn,’ she says quickly. Not letting me say anything else.
‘Hmm,’ says Victoria and she leans forward and picks out a cheese-smothered chip from the nachos on the coffee table. We watch as she eats it and then takes a sip of her drink.
‘I am being promoted to the head of copy writing at my firm.
‘Last week I had to have an abortion.’
Both Reese and I stare at her. She’s only been working at her firm for a short time so that’s the obvious lie.
Reese picks up her drink and finishes it, her eyes on the carpet, and I wonder why we are bothering with this game.
She and Victoria obviously spend a lot of time together and they already know all each other’s secrets.
Only I don’t know. The game is only for my benefit. Or that’s what they think.
‘I’m sorry, that must have been hard,’ I say because that seems to be the obvious choice for something to say. I also think of how easy it was for Victoria to get that done, unlike Sophie who is young and has no money.
‘It was,’ says Victoria and she swipes her cheek.
Reese shuffles over until she’s next to her and puts her arm around her friend and there could not be a clearer message to me.
It is Reese and Victoria. And there is no room for me in this friendship.
Not anymore. Regardless of what I’ve done and regardless of what I know. You’re an idiot, Camilla.
I pick up my drink, finishing it in one gulp, ready to tell my truth and lie that I’ve so carefully prepared.