Charlotte’s jaw
dropped as Gareth released her hand. When she recovered, she turned to demand
an explanation, only to find he'd drifted off, and Craig had replaced him at
her side, hot and magnetic as usual. She closed her mouth and tried to gather
her wits. What was Gareth talking about? What did Craig want now? If he was
here, where was Cassette?
Not at the bar,
she observed, picking out Ben over the top of the crowd and catching Emily
looking slyly up at him as he asked for more wine.
Frowning and
confused, she turned on Craig. His expression was grave, his eyes earnest. ‘I
want you to know that I didn’t authorise those letters being sent,’ he said. ‘My
electronic signature was used, but I had nothing to do with it. Charlotte, I…’
he paused. ‘Nah, forget it,’ he growled and disappeared again into the crowd.
Charlotte’s head
was spinning. She needed some air. She looked from Ben at the bar to Craig’s
retreating back. She needed some answers. She followed Craig and caught up to
him, grabbing his arm.
‘Oh no you don’t,’
she said. ‘You’ve got to give me more than that.’
He stopped still
and looked down at her hand on his arm. When he looked up, the scowl had
softened. He almost looked relieved. He checked on Cassette, considered his
next move and suggested they step outside on to the deck overlooking the river.
A handful of smokers were crowded around the outdoor ashtray, but the balmy
night kept most of the crowd in the air conditioning. Although not entirely
private, it was quieter than inside, and they could keep an eye on Cassette
through the glass while they talked.
He claimed
Charlotte’s hand off his arm and led her outside. She checked her
disappointment when he released it. The air outside was humid, and the distant
hum of traffic filled their ears. Somewhere nearby there must have been a
frangipani tree in flower. The fragrance caught on the breeze, mingling
unpleasantly with the cigarette smoke. Huddled together on one side of the
deck, the smokers ignored them.
‘What do you mean
you didn’t know anything about the letters?’ Charlotte asked.
‘Just that. I
didn’t ask for them to be written and I didn’t authorise them being sent.’
‘Who did then?
‘Margie wrote
them.’
‘Why would she do
that?’
‘Because she was
told to.’
‘But not by you.’
Craig ran his hand
through his hair. ‘By Keith.'
Looking at the
little tufts of hair standing on end upon his head, Charlotte knew she should
feel relieved. He didn’t send the letters, and until tonight he’d known nothing
about them. Which meant he didn’t make love to her and then turn around and
turf her out of her gallery. Which meant he wasn’t a prick after all. Maybe.
God damn it. She
needed to get off this rollercoaster. She didn’t feel relieved. She felt
nauseous.
‘Fuck,’ Craig
suddenly declared. ‘Charlotte…I… Cassette…I’ve got to go’. He tore inside and
left her standing there, alone with her mounting queasiness. She watched him
through the glass as he sped through the crowd to catch Cassette and deftly
turn her around, moments before she tapped Emily on the shoulder. Ben, who was
still with Emily, noticed the movement behind them far too late. He watched on,
stunned as Emily remained oblivious.
Rooted to the
spot, Charlotte watched them. Craig manoeuvred Cassette across the room,
holding her up as she wavered drunkenly in her glossy red stilettos. Once he’d
found her a safe place, he looked back to Charlotte and mouthed, ‘I’m sorry.’
Still dazed,
Charlotte ignored him and looked back to Ben and Emily. Was Emily falling for
Ben? Observing them now, Charlotte saw what she’d never seen before: the
doe-eyed way Ben looked at her sister when she was looking the other way. No,
it was Ben, and it would appear he wasn’t just falling; he’d already fallen,
for Emily.
How could she
have never noticed that before?
With all of the
women queuing up at Bean Drinkin’ batting their eyelids at him, he’d had ample
opportunity to meet someone else to be doe-eyed over. But it appeared it was
her sister who had claimed his heart, though, as far as Charlotte could tell,
it was completely one-sided. When did it start? Had it always been there or
did it just happen recently?
Charlotte’s heart
was hammering in her chest, and she was struggling to breathe. Realising she
was having a panic attack, she started to panic. She couldn’t move. Her vision
blurred, and she couldn’t focus on anything. Her legs started to shake.
A warm arm slipped
around her shoulders. ‘Come on, lovely. Come with me. I’ll take you somewhere
safe.' Gareth’s voice was soothing and reassuring. She allowed herself to be
led down the length of the deck. Just before a set of stairs that descended
down to the riverside, they turned left and entered Gareth’s office through the
back door. He sat her down on a comfortable burgundy couch and poured her a
scotch.
Charlotte took a
shaky sip and slowly felt herself calm down. ‘Thank you,’ she managed.
‘No worries, my
love. You just get some more of that in to you and when you’re ready you can
tell me all about it.’
‘Don’t you have a
show to run?’
‘Charlotte,’ he
admonished lightly. ‘You know they don’t need me. But you look like you could
use a friend. I’d rather be where I’m needed.’
Charlotte
considered him. She barely knew him. But maybe that was a good thing.
Everything came
flooding out. The stress over the development proposal and the loss of the
gallery, Emily’s disinterest and Andy’s drug addiction. That she was in love
with Craig, the man who would tear everything down one week and tear her apart
the next. That she didn’t know what she wanted to do with her life, that she
suspected she didn’t want the gallery any more but what else would she do? And
finally, her realisation her best friend was in love with her sister and the
truth behind Gareth’s warning.
Gareth listened
until she ran out of words and then helped her freshen up.
‘Why do you have a
stash of make-up here?’ she asked as he pulled it out and helped her repair her
façade.
‘Oh, you know
these artists. They’re emotional types.’ He grinned at her and she smiled back.
‘Thank you.’
‘No trouble,
Charlotte.' He slipped an arm around her shoulders and squeezed. Charlotte let
herself crumple for a moment then steeled herself, panic now abated, to return
to the fray.
She found Ben and
Emily huddled in a corner, companionably watching the thinning crowd. They
looked tight, as though they were sharing a secret. She wondered if she'd
already lost Ben.
When she squeezed
onto their seat beside Emily, he asked where she’d been.
‘With Gareth,’ she
answered.
Emily interrupted
before he could quiz her more.
‘Seriously, why
are they still here?’ she asked, glaring across the room at Craig and Cassette
leaning against the bar. With her back to them, Cassette was making a show of
ignoring them. Craig, on the other hand, was watching them studiously.
‘I’m not sure
which one is keeping the other here,’ Ben offered. ‘Between Craig watching
Charlotte all evening and Cassette watching Emily, it’s hard to tell which one
the stalker is.’
Charlotte would
have kicked Ben had it not been for Emily in between them. Fortunately, her
sister’s hearing was selective.
‘Really, she’s
been watching me? That is creepy. I wonder if I should be scared of this
woman.’
A movement at the
entrance of the gallery suddenly caught all of their attention.
Emily moaned ‘Oh
crap,’ and Ben stood to attention in front of her. Charlotte leapt to her feet
and charged towards the door. From out of nowhere, Craig fell into step beside
her, but she didn’t allow that to distract her. What Cassette was doing, she
didn’t know.
Charlotte and
Craig stopped together in front of Geoff, blocking his further progress into
the gallery. They both spoke at once.
‘Get the fuck out
of here,’ hissed Charlotte.
‘I don’t think
this is such a good idea, mate,’ offered Craig, in a much more conciliatory
manner.
Geoff put up his
hands as if to ward them both off. ‘I’m just here to pass on my
congratulations,’ he slurred and rocked backwards slightly, intoxicated.
Before Charlotte
could rain down a torrent of abuse on him, Craig threw her by taking control of
the situation, taking Geoff’s arm and pulling him off to one side, talking
quietly and intensely. Charlotte quickly looked around the room.
The last few
guests were edging past them on their way out of the door. Ben was still
standing in front of Emily, casting furtive glances behind him and towards
them, unsure of what he should do. Charlotte gave him a look that asked him to
just stay there. Cassette was leaning on the bar, exactly where Craig had left
her, with a smug look on her face that Charlotte would like to slap off. The
bar staff watched intrigued, waiting for the drama to unfold. Gareth also
watched on, scowling at the prospect of that happening. She turned back to tune
in to what Craig was saying to Geoff.
‘C’mon mate, not
tonight, hey. Do you really want to do this after a few drinks? Wouldn’t you
rather have your head straight.’
Charlotte fought
the urge to repeat her earlier sentiment. Geoff seemed to be wavering. Craig
seemed to have it under control. Until Cassette decided to stir things up.
Charlotte listened
to the ominous click, click, click of her heels on the polished floorboards as
she made her way deliberately and slowly across the room. She had to do
something, but she was rooted to the spot. She looked at Gareth and he sprang
into action, racing over to Ben and Emily and herding them towards his office. They
would escape out of the back door, unnoticed by Cassette, striding across her
stage and by Geoff, too afraid to look towards his soon-to-be ex-wife.
Charlotte looked
at Craig. He was coiled, ready to pounce. His eyes darted about the room,
taking in the fleeing guests, the curious staff, the anxious proprietor and the
absconding pair. He took in the cowering drunk and the vindictive princess
clicking towards them. He took all of this in and then glanced at Charlotte,
his magnet on full strength, making her want to move closer to him, to watch
the show with his heat beside her. She did, just a little bit.
‘Hello, Geoff,’
Cassette preened, breaking the silence.
‘What are you
doing here, Cassette?’ he responded, resigned rather than defiant.
Charlotte huffed
at the irony, drawing a look from Craig. She glared back, but held her tongue.
‘Oh, I’m here to
admire the art,’ Cassette continued. She reached for Geoff’s hand. ‘Now, don’t
mind these two,’ she said, flapping her limp hand between Charlotte and Craig. ‘Why
don’t you come in and see it? I’m told it’s about the seven stages of
grieving.'
Geoff’s change of
heart came too late. His resistance was feeble as Cassette walked him across
the empty room to the first piece in the sequence.
Charlotte felt the
pull again, stronger this time as Craig inched closer to her.
She looked at him.
His face was set, his jaw clenched, but it had been that way all night. Feeling
her eyes on him, he turned his head and studied her, clearly struggling with
what to say. She looked away, hoping he’d say nothing. Releasing a barely
audible sigh, he conceded, and turned back to watch his friend and her former
lover.
Across the
gallery, Cassette was commencing her tour.
‘Look, here is
Shock,’ she announced, before a portrait of a couple locked in an embrace on
the footpath of an empty street. Like all of the pieces, bar two, it was done
in the Emily’s signature grey hues and looked as though the scene was crumbling
before your eyes.
In the middle
distance, a woman watched the couple from a third floor balcony of an apartment
building, gripping the balcony rail.
Cassette moved to
the next piece. ‘And this one is,’ she paused making a show of squinting at its
title, ‘Denial.' It was a reversal of the first piece. The scene was the same
but this time the observer was in the foreground, looking back towards the pair.
In this instance they weren't kissing, but standing side by side, looking
innocently towards their watcher.
‘Bargaining,’
Cassette continued her tour, dragging Geoff with her by the elbow. The third
portrait was of the same woman in a spectacularly modern kitchen, a slight
frown marking her forehead.
At this point
Charlotte noticed Gareth re-enter the room. He nodded towards her, and she felt
her shoulders relax a little. Emily and Ben were away.
Craig discerned
their exchange, and she watched him process it out of the corner of her eye. He
stole a glance at her, but she pretended not to notice, focusing her attention
back on the ridiculous tour taking place before them.
‘Guilt,’ Cassette
announced. ‘This one is my favourite. See how she tucks her legs up to her
chest and wonders what she did wrong?' Sucking in a lungful of enraged air,
Charlotte prepared to march across the room and unleash the warranted slap upon
Cassette’s cheek, but a strong steadying hand on her arm held her back. ‘Let it
unfold,’ Craig offered quietly and then thankfully withdrew his hand.