Chapter 32
THIRTY-TWO
SIXTEEN YEARS AGO
Camilla
I can’t believe what’s happened to my life since that night with Reese and Victoria.
Lawrence refuses to speak to me and I’ve lost both my jobs.
I feel like I’ve been cursed, literally.
And I can’t help picturing Reese and Victoria bent over a picture of me, sticking pins into my life.
I bet Victoria had something to do with me losing my jobs, but I have no idea how to prove that and I have little interest in trying to explain this to Tina and Brad. They can both go to hell.
I have my final pay cheques so I have enough money for another month of living in this motel. But then I am screwed.
I’m lying on the bed, scrolling through job ads, when Sophie calls.
‘Hey,’ I say when I answer her. I didn’t tell her I was living in the house in case she blabbed to Mum and Coach so I have no idea how they found out unless there’s a hidden camera somewhere.
‘Hey, how’ve you been?’ she asks.
‘Yeah, I’m okay. Had to move out of my share house because my housemates are just… not worth my time but I’ll find something soon.’
‘Oh… right,’ she says and the way she says it makes me certain that my mother has told her what happened with Coach flying back to kick me out of the house like some deranged lunatic.
‘How are you?’ I ask, hating that I sound so stilted, but then so does she.
‘Well… dealing with this… I mean Mum will be back in four weeks and I really need to have this sorted. I can’t go to her, Camilla, you know I can’t.
I really, really need to get this abortion and you said you would help, so can you?
Can you spare the money? I promise I will work to pay you back.
It’s not a gift, it’s a loan but I really, really can’t be pregnant anymore. ’
My heart breaks for her because I can hear she’s crying and I’m trying to imagine how hideous it is for her and how scared she must be but I can’t help her.
Right now, I have to focus on myself and getting my life together.
Nothing has worked out like it should. I took a night at a bar with a drunk friend and turned it into something it wasn’t.
Instead of disregarding everything she said, I acted on her words and now I’m screwed.
‘Look, Soph… I know I said I would sort it but I just… like, I can’t manage that now. I lost my jobs and I still don’t have another one and I need to find a place to live and it’s just not a good time,’ I confess.
‘Can’t you ask Reese? She’s, like, got plenty of money. If you ask her I’ll pay her back. I’m sure she’d want to help. She’s nice, isn’t she?’ Sophie is desperate and I can hear that.
‘Reese and I aren’t talking. I kind of screwed up with her and Victoria.’
‘What did you do?’
‘It’s… complicated.’
‘Just call her and tell her you’re sorry and then ask her, please, Camilla. I really need to get this done.’
‘I’m sorry, she won’t take my calls.’ I haven’t actually tried to call Reese or Victoria but I’m sure if I did, they wouldn’t take my calls. I have no desire to humiliate myself by prostrating myself at Reese’s feet for money.
‘But why? Like, didn’t she welcome you back after she kicked you out of her apartment? She’ll accept your apology no matter what you did. Didn’t you say she’s a bit of a doormat?’
‘I slept with her fiancé,’ I snap. I can feel myself getting irritated with her. I’ve told her I can’t help and she just won’t leave it.
Sophie is silent for a second before she speaks again.
‘What kind of a person does that?’
I don’t reply, just hold the phone against my ear, feeling the heat from the screen and hating my life. Finally, she says, ‘Look… I don’t know why you… but it doesn’t matter. I just need you to help me and you said you would.’
‘I can’t,’ I say and then I repeat it. ‘I can’t, I can’t, I can’t.’
‘Mum’s right,’ says Sophie, all trace of distress disappearing. ‘You’re a selfish bitch.’ And then she ends the call. I’m so stung by the words and by the idea that my mother has said this to my adopted sisters that I don’t try to call back. I don’t message her either.
Why won’t she understand?
One of the things that my mother used to say to me that irritated me beyond belief is, ‘There’s always a reason for everything.’
And the words still irritate me because if they’re true, then surely the reason that I am living the life that I am currently living is because of something I did in a past life. Don’t discount all the shit you’ve done in this life.
There have been times, since my mother got involved with Bert, the arsehole, that I have thought, ‘Oh well, at least it can’t get any worse.’ And each time I have thought that, things have gotten a lot worse.
After the night Reese and I spent in the bar, I called Lawrence and told him I needed to tell him something about his beloved bride-to-be.
He was shocked to hear from me because we hadn’t really talked since the party when he picked her over me. There had been a few dinners out in a group, but we hadn’t had an actual conversation, just the two of us.
‘What exactly, Camilla?’ he said. ‘I have work to do and really, we’re getting married soon.’
‘You want to hear this, I promise. We can meet somewhere.’ I knew he had moved back in with his parents in anticipation of moving in with Reese after the wedding.
‘Fine.’ He sighed. ‘Where?’ I mentioned a bar close to my house and then I got dressed up and went to the bar where he was waiting.
‘Well hi, fancy meeting you here,’ I joked when I saw him. I watched his eyes light up at the way I looked, at my outfit. And I knew I had him.
He drank beer and I sipped wine. He was wearing jeans and a white T-shirt and he looked as good as he ever had.
He’s not a good guy but I could handle him and it would have been so much better for everyone if I was the one marrying him.
I looked good and I knew it. I made sure my hair was perfectly straight and I was wearing more make-up than I usually did.
We talked in circles about general things until he said, ‘Look, can you just tell me why you asked me here?’
I looked around the bar. ‘I think, maybe come back to my place. We can have a drink and I’ll tell you but I don’t want to talk here.’
I could feel his frustration but he agreed.
I took him up to my room and opened a bottle of vodka I had, mixing it with tonic.
And then I told him that Reese had called him a ‘controlling arsehole’, that she said she wasn’t sure she actually wanted to get married and that she found his mother irritating.
I told him everything, throwing in a few lies for good measure, quite a lot of lies.
‘She says she’s not really attracted to you.
She says that you’re not smart enough to be a lawyer. ’
A more mature man than Lawrence would have called his fiancée and checked on the things I said. He would have realised that there’s no way she would have called him stupid.
He would have left me and gone to have it out with her. But Lawrence just sat there listening and drinking and listening and drinking and then he was fuming.
‘I don’t think those things,’ I told him. ‘I think you’re amazing and Reese is so lucky to have you. I’ve always been attracted to you and I would never have treated you this way.’
It was inevitable that one thing led to another. And I sort of regretted it afterwards. But not really.
Lawrence should have chosen me. Cambridge should have chosen me. My mother should have chosen me. I was so sick of not being chosen, of being the person that everyone was happy to reject.
I waited for two days afterwards for Lawrence to say something to Reese, for her whole perfect life to come crashing down.
But he didn’t say anything. The wedding plans continued and Reese even posted a picture on Facebook of a scrap of lace from her wedding dress with the words:
Can’t wait for everyone to see this beautiful creation.
I realised that Lawrence wasn’t going to tell her. I had to do it myself. That’s when I planned the margarita evening with the two of them, the night before Reese’s hen night. I wanted to blow the whole world up. I reasoned that I might as well start with Reese’s marriage to Lawrence.
But now I’m here and everything sucks.
I realise, as I replay the conversation with Sophie, that today was meant to be Reese’s wedding day.
Wondering if she’s mentioned it and eager for news of Lawrence, I open Facebook to her page.
There’s a new post pinned to the top.
Hey everyone. Some sad news. My best friend in the whole world, Reese, was supposed to get married today, but instead she’s at home, heartbroken and sad.
I’m not going to bother being cryptic because I think that sometimes people need to be called out on their shitty behaviour.
Camilla Struthers, someone we have known a long time, (see link to her FB page) slept with Reese’s fiancé, Lawrence.
And then gleefully told us about it the night before Reese’s hen night.
I just don’t understand how a good friend could betray Reese like that. Please send all your good vibes her way so that she can move on from this awful experience.
There are one hundred comments below the post. One hundred?
I start reading through them with growing horror.
You’re a piece of shit friend Camilla Struthers. Sending you all my love Reese.
What kind of a human being are you, Camilla Struthers? You should kill yourself. Stay strong Reese, you’ll find a new love in no time.
Oh my God, if I knew where she lived, I would make sure she never had another good day again. We all love you Reese, stay strong.
Some people should never have been born. Camilla Struthers is a pig and a whore. We’re all here for you Reese.
My stomach churns with nausea and I feel like I can’t breathe. I shouldn’t read any more but I do.
No one has mentioned Lawrence. It’s like he had nothing to do with it. All the blame is thrown squarely at my feet.
When I can’t bear reading any more of the comments, I click on the link to my own page that Victoria so kindly posted for everyone who wants to hate me.
There are more than two hundred comments.
Ugly, vile words, threats and name-calling.
Reese doesn’t know this many people. How do so many people know?
The post has spread, I realise, my heart hammering in my chest. Strangers are sharing it on their pages.
Strangers know what I did and they hate me for it.
It feels like the whole country hates me.
I want to leave, to run, to get on a plane and never look back but I have no money. I can’t go anywhere.
It’s insane and I feel like I’m going insane and I have no one, not a single person to talk to.
Every time I feel like life cannot, simply cannot get any worse. It does.
Navigating around the page, I find the right button and delete my page, erasing all those terrible messages, and then close my eyes. How am I going to survive this? How?