Authors: NC Marshall
“Where
do you want to meet?” I ask Adam coldly, I’m already back at the car and
searching for my keys. The walk back down from the cliffs was certainly a lot
easier than the hike to get up there.
Funnily,
I’d expected to see Adam again before he went home to Australia, but I thought
it would be in person. I’d forgotten that I’d given him my mobile number on
Christmas Day at the church.
I knew he wasn’t telling me everything
.
“I’m
in the car now,” says Adam, “are you anywhere near your mum’s house?”
“Not
far, but I don’t want her to see you, not today of all days.”
“Yeah,
I know. Look, I’ll meet you in the cafe, the one near your mum’s on the lake.”
“The
Waterfront?” I ask. “It’s not a café, Adam, it’s a bar.”
“Even
better,” he replies briskly, “I could do with a drink.”
*
A
while later, I pull open the heavy wooden door to the Waterfront bar. It’s gone
seven-thirty by the time I get there, and it’s getting busy. Not surprising for
a Friday night. There isn’t exactly a bustling choice of places to drink in
this town.
I
scan the people standing at the bar and eventually see Adam down at the end of
it, an empty bottle in front of him. He doesn’t attempt to move as I pull up a
bar stool and sit next to him.
“Drink?”
he asks, then promptly gets the barmaid’s attention. She practically falls over
her own feet in her hurry to get to him.
“I’ll
have a lime and soda water,” I say as Adam hands her a ten pound note and
orders himself another bottle of cider. She gives us our drinks and hands Adam
a glass filled with ice, giving him a sweet smile and holding eye contact with
him a little longer than she should in a professional sense. Adam is oblivious
to her advances as he pushes the glass to one side, choosing to take a hefty
swig from the bottle instead. He finishes, and puts the now half empty bottle
down on the bar, finally looking at me to give me his full attention.
“So,
what do you want to talk about?” I ask as I unravel my scarf from around my
neck and place it over the back of the seat, along with my coat. I rub at my
aching temples, then twist my matted, severely windswept hair up into a
ponytail, securing it with a hair band from around my wrist.
A
rowdy bunch of girls fall through the door and head straight to the bar. They
are dressed in very little and wear pink feather bowers around their necks. One
has on a bright pink veil, and L plates attached to her bum. I could think of a
lot more decent venues than this to host a hen party.
“Should
we go and sit somewhere a little quieter?” I ask Adam, who is already on his
feet and moving, clearly irritated by the girl’s drunken states.
We
head to the back of the pub near a kid’s daytime play area, and find a quiet
booth. Adam squeezes in on one side while I sit on the other, directly opposite
him.
“Can
you remember that day at the church?” asks Adam. His eyes look dull and have
deep shadows beneath them, he looks like he hasn’t slept in days.
“Yeah,”
I say, “what about it?”
“When
you called your husband.”
“Yeah,”
I say again, not sure where he’s going with this. “I called him to let him know
I was safe, I didn’t want him to worry about me.”
Adam
shakes his hands at me. “No, no, not that.”
He
leans forward over the table towards me. “I don’t know if you remember, but
when you finished speaking, you dropped your phone on the ground, and I picked
it up for you.”
I
nod, although I don’t remember dropping my phone. But then, I was in such a
state over meeting Adam in the way I did, that it didn’t surprise me if I had.
Now he has me completely confused. I wish he would get to the point. He’s not
my most favourite person at the moment. This is only making it worse.
Adam
must notice my frustration and quickly gets to the point he’s attempting to
make.
“There
was a picture on your phone, a screen saver.”
“Yes,”
I say bluntly. “A picture of my son. Most people have photos of their kids as
screen savers, Adam, it’s pretty common,” I announce sarcastically.
“Can
I have another look at it?” he asks, holding out his hand to take my phone. I
find his request a little odd, but nevertheless, I fish my phone out of my
pocket and tap in the security code to unlock it. The screen lights up with a
picture of Josh and Liam, which had been taken at Josh’s fifth birthday party
back in June.
I
slide the phone across the table to him, pushing it a little too hard. Adam
catches it on the other side just in time, before it spins off the table
entirely.
He
holds the phone up and studies it carefully, a look of anger blatantly crossing
his face.
“Yep,
I thought so,” he says, handing me back the phone.
“What?”
I ask, looking into the phone and studying Josh’s face, which grins back at me.
He looks so cute dressed in his Hawaiian style shirt and denim jeans cropped at
the knees.
“What
are you saying, Adam?” I’m growing increasingly angry. He’s talking in riddles
that I don’t understand, and when his ridiculous puzzles involve my son, I
don’t have the time or patience to play guessing games. “What are you trying to
tell me? Something about my son?” My voice rises above the increasing noise of
the crowd.
Adam
laughs sarcastically and raises his bottle to his lips, draining what is left
in it. “Not your son, Nat, the other little boy, the one on the left.”
I
narrow my eyes “Liam? That’s my brother’s little boy, my nephew.” I look at the
picture of Liam, his shirt almost identical to Josh’s, only blue instead of
red. The two boys are so close in age, they have always been more like brothers
than cousins. They adore each other. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, Adam.”
I shuffle forward in my seat and grab my handbag, rising to my feet to leave.
Adam
stops me by grabbing my hand roughly, pulling me back to my seat. I push him
off me, settling back to where I was sitting.
“Keep
your hands off me!”
“Look
at the picture again, Nat,” he orders.
I
flash him a dirty look as I pull the phone back to my face and study the
photograph more closely. At first I don’t know what I'm looking for, then
suddenly what Adam is trying to tell me hits me like a bolt of lightning. I put
my hand to my mouth as I move the image of the boys closer to my eyes in
disbelief.
“And
she gets it!” Adam declares, throwing his hands up into the air, then placing
them to his face and rubbing at his unshaven chin.
I
don’t know how I hadn’t seen it before, how could I have missed it? I look
again at the picture of my nephew I had seen a hundred times, then back to the
man sitting opposite me. There is no denying it. Liam has the same golden tone
to his hair, which is curled slightly, too. He has the same naturally dark skin
and face shape. The same dimples in his cheeks, which deepen as he smiles. But
most of all, those eyes are identical and the same piercing shade of
green—exactly the same.
I
drop the phone onto the table “Oh my God, you’re not...”
Adam
nods his head slowly, “Yes Nat, I think I am. I think I’m Liam’s father.”
I
see his body visibly relax a little, maybe just from the relief of telling
someone his suspicions. He grips his hands together and leans forward over the
table towards me, lowering his voice as he continues. I struggle to hear him
over the dance music that is now blasting out of the speakers above our heads.
Adam gives up and moves to my side of the booth. He squeezes in and sits next
to me. He’s so close that his knee leans heavily against mine. Usually I would
move, feeling a strong need for personal space. However, I’m too gobsmacked to
move an inch, and stay frozen to the seat. Adam leans close to my ear. I can
smell the faint alcohol on his breath, mixed with the strong scent coming from
his heavy aftershave, as he continues on with his story.
“It
was five years ago. The night before Lola was due to leave Australia. She had been
in Melbourne, but she decided to travel back to Perth to say goodbye to some
friends that she had made while she had been staying there with Jess. I had
received the divorce papers from your sister that morning and had spent most of
the day getting hammered. I bumped into Lola in a casino bar. One thing led to
another, and she ended up coming home with me. It was a one night stand, Nat,
and meant nothing to either of us.”
“She
didn’t tell you she was pregnant?” I ask.
“No.
I had no idea until I saw that photo,” he says, nodding to my phone, its screen
now blank. “It’s all I’ve been able to think about since. Liam’s the double of
me when I was a kid.” He lowers his head, his thumb circling the rim of the
empty cider bottle. “We didn’t use any protection. I assumed she was on the
pill, but, to be honest, we didn’t discuss contraception, we were both too
drunk.”
I
sink back into my seat, unable to move or to speak. I remember back to how
happy Ryan had been when he found out Lola was pregnant. Although he was a
little shocked that it had happened only a few weeks into their relationship,
still he was thrilled.
But
the truth was she had already been pregnant, with Adam’s baby.
I
think of Ryan now. His dark features and thin, lanky frame, his straight hair
and deep brown eyes. It had never even occurred to me that he and Liam looked
nothing alike. He adores that little boy, Liam is his life. This news is going
to crush him.
“Did
Jess know... about you and Lola?” I ask, struggling to believe that Lola would
deny a father the right to see his own child, to even know that he was a dad.
“No,
the last time I saw Lola was the night we slept together. When I met up with
Jess again after I came to England, I assumed Lola had never said anything, it
was obvious that Jess had never found out about us. I wanted to tell her,
almost did on one occasion, but I couldn’t.” He shakes his head and looks me in
the eye, “I was a coward.”
I
pick up my glass and drain the melted ice from the bottom of it. My mouth is so
dry that my tongue has stuck to its roof. “What are you going to do? Are you
going to confront Lola?” I ask.
“I
don’t know what to do. She’ll probably just deny it, but it is clear that he’s
mine.”
I
nod, not wanting to agree, but I know that even if Liam wasn’t Adams double,
the dates still work out almost spot on to the time Liam was born. Lola had
fooled us all into believing Liam had been born early, just as Josh had been,
but I now know that wasn’t the truth.
I
look at my watch. It’s getting late and Dan will be wondering where I am. I
jump to my feet and apologise to Adam, although it doesn’t sound very sincere.
Even though I want to, I still can’t warm to him and I don’t know why. I tell
Adam I’ll call him tomorrow after he’s had some time to think, then leave the
pub and head home, totally unaware that I’m being followed.
The
light gets a little brighter, enabling me to finally see who has approached me
from behind.
Lola
stands with her hands in the pockets of her short red padded jacket. Her long
black patent leather boots reach her denim-clad knees. The bottoms of her boots
are caked in mud. Her short hair is whipped back from her face by the wind.
“Lola,”
I say, as I near her. I can’t hide the disappointment in my voice that it’s not
Matt who is standing where she is now. “What are you doing here?”
I
assume that Matt has told her I’ve been calling him, and she’s worried that
I’ll be standing here all night on my own. I smile, thinking of her concern,
always such a good friend.
“Why
didn’t you just call me if you were worried?” I ask, holding my mobile in the
air to prove that I have it with me, that I’ve not disconnected myself from all
civilization. “You didn’t need to come all the way here,” I say loudly so that
she can hear me over the increasing strength of the wind, “I’m all right.
Honestly,” I lie unconvincingly.
“That's
not why I’m here,” she replies, her tone impassive.
As
she steps closer to me, I can see that she looks like hell. Lola’s generally impeccably
made up face is pale, and she has black patches under her eyes where her thick
makeup has smudged and started to run.
“You
all right, Lo?” I ask, starting to get a little worried.
God, I hope that
nothing’s happened to Matt or Ryan.
“Is everyone okay at home?” I ask. She
doesn’t reply, but manages a slight nod that calms my wandering mind. “So
what’s wrong, then?” I ask as she eventually reaches where I’m standing. She
still refuses to look me in the eye. Instead, she keeps her face bowed to the ground.
“Why are you so quiet, Lola? What has happened?” I ask again, trying gently to
coax her to open up and talk.
“You
need to know,” says Lola simply. Her voice sounds rough and gravelly; not
light, bouncy and carefree like it usually is.
“Know
what?” I ask, now thoroughly baffled.
“It
wasn’t meant to happen,” she replies as she slips a packet of cigarettes out of
her pocket and turns away from the direction of the wind to light one. I
thought she’d quit smoking, but she must have started again. I feel disappointed
at her attempts to stay off them, and now understand that her gruff sounding
voice is the result of once again smoking thirty a day. She blows smoke into
the air, and it flows in a graceful line straight into my face, forcing me to
cough.
“What
wasn’t meant to happen? Lola, you’re starting to scare me. What are you talking
about?”
“Me
and
him,
” Lola replies. She spits the words at me as if they were
venomous.
“You
and who, Lola?”
“Him...
Adam.”
I
swallow hard and narrow my eyes at Lola, who has now managed to raise her head
and is looking me in the eye.
“What
about you and Adam?” I ask, genuinely intrigued as to where this is all
heading.
“We...
we slept together back in Australia. You had split up with him, and you were
with Matt.” Tears gather in her eyes. “It was my last night in Australia, we
were both drunk. It wasn’t meant to happen.” She takes a final draw on her
cigarette, dropping it to the ground before stubbing it out under her foot.
The
bile rises in my throat and my breathing quickens. Rage hits me full force. I
fight hard to keep it under control. “I thought you never went back to Perth.
You told me you didn’t go back there!”
“I
lied.”
“And
you didn’t tell me. Neither of you told me, after all, this time?”
I
remember back to when I first returned from Australia. Adam was all I could
think about, all I wanted at that point. I was lost for a while until Lola
returned home the following year. She was the only one I’d confided in about
Adam, the only one who had known him, and of his existence until yesterday when
I told Matt. Why didn’t she tell me? To save her own skin?
“I
didn’t want you to find out like this Jess, but Matt has been with Ryan all
night drinking and...”
“Does
Ryan know about me and Adam?” I ask, wondering if Matt has told him what a
disgusting and conniving person his sister really is.
“No,
he just said you had a fight and that you have separated.”
My
heart flutters.
“Matt
left his phone in our apartment,” says Lola, without an ounce of remorse in her
voice.“I listened to the voice messages you left him earlier tonight. You
mentioned Adam. I know he is in England.”
“Why
didn’t you tell me, Lola?” I ask, my voice laced with hurt, with betrayal.
“I...
I couldn’t,” Lola answers, her voice rising to match the volume of my own.
“Why
not? You knew I would have forgiven you Lola, maybe not straight away, but I
would have, and it would have helped me move on and get on with my own life.”
I
mean those words. I would have forgiven Lola. After everything that we had been
through together, she is my closest friend. As for Adam, well, I suppose this
makes me realise that I’d made the right move in deciding not to go back to
Australia with him tomorrow.
“Why
didn’t you tell me, Lola?” I ask again. I reluctantly lower my voice as she
sobs quietly. I can't console her. She doesn’t deserve any pity.
“Because
that’s not all that happened,” she says through muffled sobs, “I... I fell
pregnant.”
I
put my hand to my mouth. Lola was pregnant with Adam’s baby. She must have had an
abortion, she has gone all this time having to live with that. But then she
fell pregnant straight away, Liam had been conceived shortly after she returned
from Australia. Unless… suddenly, reality hits me. I stagger backwards, away
from Lola.
“Liam,”
I say, putting my hand to my mouth. “Liam is Adam’s son?”
Lola
holds a hand to her head and rubs at her temples.
“So,
Adam doesn’t know he has a son?” I ask. I know that if he’d known he wouldn’t
have kept it from me. Although, I dislike him for keeping a one night stand
with one of my closest friends from me. I very much doubt that his conscience
would allow him to keep the fact that the little boy who I thought was my
nephew is actually his son.
Lola
shakes her head, and I feel slightly disgusted by her.
“How
did you know I was up here tonight?” I ask, suddenly aware of the fact that
nobody other than Matt knows that this is where I am.
Lola
removes her hands from her pockets and crosses them over her body. She is
swaying from side to side, a vacant expression on her face.
“Like
I said, Matt has been with Ryan all night. Matt’s been drinking and is in a bit
of a state, so Ryan took him back next door to his apartment to make sure he
got to bed to sleep it off.”
She
takes a deep breath, her voice quavering, now back to its normal tone. “I
listened to the voice mail that you left for him, asking him to meet you here.”
So
he hadn’t been ignoring my calls at all. A brief jolt of hope hits me, but it’s
quickly replaced by the burning fury I feel towards the woman standing in front
of me. “And Ryan’s still with Matt? He doesn’t even know you’re here?”
She
shakes her head. I shake my own back at her in sheer disbelief, not able to
take in any further information. “I can’t believe you could do that! Let my
brother think that he is the father to another man’s son.”
I
remember back to last Christmas at the lake house, and have an image in my head
of Ryan and Liam playing in the garden. Ryan was swinging him around, hugging
him and throwing him into the air and onto his back. Liam was laughing, loving
every moment, with no clue that the man he has known all his life as his daddy,
wasn’t.
I
feel sick. I rub at my stomach as my head spins. “Ryan will be heartbroken,” I
say. Tears fill my eyes just thinking about my little brother, so innocent in
all this.
“He
can’t ever know, Jess. This will break him, he loves Liam so much. He will
never forgive me.”
“Well,
you should have thought of that before you slept with your best friend’s ex,
and then lied to Ryan, allowing him to think he has been bringing up his own
son for the past four years,” I snap back, a sudden, overwhelming hatred
overtaking me.
I'm
so hurt. Not because of what Lola and Adam did to me, but because of what Lola
has done to Ryan. How can anyone be so selfish, so evil and manipulative? I
need to get away from her. I can't even bear to look at her at the moment. I
need time to think.
She
is crying loudly now. Her whole body is trembling, her frame silhouetted by the
bright moonlight behind her.
“I
need to go,” I say bitterly. My head is still pounding and I need to get away
from here, away from her.
Lola’s
head snaps up. She looks at me as though I’m lying to her. “Where are you
going?” she asks. She sounds scared, terrified actually.
“Anywhere
that’s away from you,” I say bluntly.
She
moves to my side, blocking the entrance to the pathway leading down to my
parked car. She is tall, and towers over my much smaller frame.
“You
can’t tell Ryan, Jess, he will never forgive me. We need to work out what we
are going to do.” Her voice has risen again, only now it’s adopted a slightly
hysterical tone.
I
shake my head and turn to walk away. Before I know it, she pushes me backwards,
and I fall to the ground. She staggers towards me, and then places herself on
top of me so I am unable to move. She slaps me across the face; the force
behind it is so hard that I see bright spots in front of my eyes for a few
seconds. I push her off me.
Somehow,
I manage to get to my feet and stagger further back, away from her. I’m
shocked. I can’t believe what she has just done. I rub at my burning cheek and
look around to see which way is best to get back to the path without another
confrontation. Lola obviously needs to take some time out and calm down before
we talk again. The wind catches the bottom of my skirt, throwing it into the
air and revealing the tattoo on my leg. I catch Lola looking at it. She has the
same tattoo. We had them done in Australia. The matching small black ink
markings are the Japanese symbol of trust. What a joke!
I
circle around her, unaware that I am nearing the cliff edge. I’ll walk on a
little further to get out of her way. Lola stands only a few metres away
watching, not moving and silent. I start to walk away, putting more space
between us but suddenly my foot slips.
A
few rocks fall over the edge and to the beach below. More earth gives way. I
fall to my knees, teetering on the cliff edge. I grip the grass on either side
of me, digging my fingernails into the soggy earth as much as I can. I hear the
ocean, loud and forceful beneath me, but I don’t dare look down to see it. I
need to concentrate on backing away from the edge.
I
steal a quick glance behind me. I can see Lola, who is now running to my side.
Thank
God, she’ll help me up.
But she doesn’t. Instead, she stops a couple of
feet away from where I am and watches me struggle. I manage to move a few
centimetres, but the rocks under my knees start to break up and fall.
“Help
me, Lola!” I plead, feeling my knees lose their support as more earth crumbles
to the beach below. But she makes no attempt to move. Her face takes on a
strange look that has a glimmer of amusement in it. Then, she starts to run
towards me.
There’s
a sudden movement, so quick I barely see it, and she shoves me hard in my lower
back, causing me to scream out in pain. The jolt causes the weight of my body
to shift, it rocks me forward off my knees and sends me over the edge.
I
feel the ground leave my feet as I move into the air. I can hear the crashing
sound of the waves beneath me growing louder. The stars in the sky seem to
brighten as the beach below closes in. I reach out with my hands, clutching
nothing but empty space. I plummet downwards, moving closer towards what I know
is going to be my death. And then, everything is black.