Idle Lies. Lian Knight
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proceeds,’ Paul said, laughing. ‘That should buy us three coffees each.’
‘That’s two more coffees than if we sold yours,’ Jason noted dryly.
Another sound came from the entrance.
‘Hi all!’ a shrill voice announced. A girl with a tiny diamond nose ring and heavily lacquered eyelashes stood airily in the doorway. From a distance her skin-tight jeans looked like they had been applied with spray paint and where they finished above the ankles, the straps of a pair of black stilettos helped with the illusion of height.
‘Where’s Matt?’ she demanded.
Lewis eyed her without offering a welcome. Jason gave her a nod.
‘Hi Bridie,’ said Paul. ‘He’s taking a shower. You can join him if you want,’ he said, giving her a lewd wink.
‘No thanks.’ Bridie Williams plonked herself down where Matt had been sitting.
‘Congratulations! The man has moved in …’ said Paul, smiling at her seductively.
Bridie scowled at him and put her phone in her lap. ‘Yes, well, this is his first official night. We can make it public now.’
‘Good,’ said Paul. ‘Jason and I were getting sick of keeping it a secret.’ He threw Jason a facetious glance. ‘We talk more than you women, you know.’ He helped himself to a large piece of pizza, scooping up the ends of the mozzarella that hung in loose strands over the edges. ‘You think we don’t gossip?’
Jason twisted his beer in his hand but said nothing.
‘I don’t care if you kept it secret or not,’ said Bridie, huffing. ‘It’s taken longer than it should have and I wasn’t keeping it a secret.’
‘Shouldn’t you be a little considerate?’ asked Paul with marginally more sincerity than a politician defending a travel rort.
‘Why should I?’
‘Well, she hasn’t got a man to manage her affairs now,’ he said cynically.
The derision was lost on Bridie. ‘Well, she can get her own man. I don’t care about her,’ she scoffed. ‘She’s toast.’
‘Ooh, a bit haughty, are we?’ taunted Paul.
‘Well, you would be too. I’m annoyed.’
‘Are you?’ prodded Paul. ‘You’ve got him all to yourself now. Why would you be annoyed?’
‘It should have been me that went to Bali, not her. I’m the one he wants to be with.’ She glared at him.
Matt returned to the lounge in an old T-shirt and track pants, rubbing his wet hair with an old brown towel. ‘You know why that was, babe,’ he said, having overheard the conversation in the hallway. ‘Kate booked the trip.’
‘You didn’t have to go,’ snapped Bridie angrily. ‘You could’ve cancelled!’
‘Ooh! A fight already!’ baited Paul. ‘You’ve gotta make it through your first night, you two, surely.’
Matt squeezed onto the couch beside her so that she now sat jammed in the middle. ‘Babe, you know how it is. I couldn’t do that, it was all organised. It’s over now and everything will be alright, don’t worry,’ he said reassuringly, taking her hand.
Bridie pulled it away with a snort and stood up. ‘You can tell me all about it at home,’ she retorted. ‘If I choose to hear it.’ Walking to the door, she swung it open with a whoosh and closed it loudly behind her.
‘Ooh! Flighty,’ said Paul. ‘Should we take bets? I’ll give it four weeks. I’m up for fifty bucks.’
‘You’re in the doghouse already,’ said Lewis.
‘Yeah,’ Matt acknowledged, dropping his shoulders and assuming the look of a berated puppy banished to it.
‘Let her stew,’ said Paul. ‘These bitches need to learn a lesson. Don’t pander to her or it will start a process you can’t stop. Show her she’s not the queen bee.’
Matt rescued his beer from the table and stared into its murky depths. ‘What do you think, Jason?’ he asked, turning to him. ‘What would you do?’
Jason studied his beer while he considered the question. ‘Not sure why you want my opinion, but here it is for what it’s worth. It looks like you’re gettin’ yourself into a mess. You sure as hell can’t go back, and forwards isn’t looking that shit-hot either. If you’re going to dig yourself a hole, you’d better wise up and make it a bloody tunnel. And don’t tell either of them what you’re doing or they’ll bog it up and make it your grave.’
3
Monday, 2 October
IF A CEMENT MIXER had swung by and bulldozed her, Kate wouldn’t have been surprised. That would explain things. Right now her body felt like a pile of rubble crushed in the drying concrete, with no way of getting out.
Yesterday she’d spent the day in the park. It was better not to know. She had walked the perimeter so many times she lost count, and then she’d sat silently on a swing, rocking gently backwards and forwards. Her thoughts had run wild. Was this really true? What had she done wrong? How long had he felt like this, and why did he wait to drop this bombshell straight after their holiday? She agonised over the slightest hint, the most minuscule of indications that she should have detected, but her senses were dull and her body was numb. Eventually the sun had begun to set and she couldn’t bear the chilling air any longer. She returned to the house and turned the key in the lock with trepidation. Would he really be gone?
Yes, he certainly was. And to her horror so was everything else. The rooms were bare, and for the first time since they had moved in, she could see how threadbare the carpet was. Her steps in the empty house made the same eerie hollow sound they had the day they arrived. Except now there was no excitement, no thrill of something new, no joy of starting a life together. Instead, it looked like a squatter’s home. All that remained was their bed, the kettle, the toaster and a few mismatched pieces of crockery. She stood in the kitchen and stared at the two lonely appliances. Why had he spared these things? Maybe he had run out of space in the truck. It would have been packed to the hilt.
And now it was Monday morning, the start of the working week. She had to go to work. Yet every muscle in her body felt weighted down with fatigue, an exhaustion so heavy she could barely stand. Her heart ached.
She thought about ringing in, explaining that her husband had just left her and that she was dealing with the shock. Of course, she was not the only person this had ever happened to and plenty of others before her would have called and taken the week off. Or the month off. Or whatever time they needed. Their bosses would have provided loads of support and may even have offered counselling. No doubt her company would be just as considerate when she told them.
Yes, she would definitely call and take the day off. She had to sort out what she was going to do. This would be her new life. On her own.
She looked at her watch and blinked. It was only 5.30 am. She hadn’t been able to sleep and had risen early, deliberately averting her eyes from the side where Matt always slept. His scent still lingered on the pillow, wafting lightly over the bed. But the room was empty. The clothes that he usually left dumped on the carpet were gone, as were the ones in the cupboard and the winter jacket and pants in the hall. The chest of drawers by the door was gone too – the indents from the legs showed where it had once stood. Lying in the middle of the space was a small pile of her socks and underwear that had been tossed without dignity, exactly where they were emptied. The bathroom shelves were empty as well except for the stains that his shavers had made. The doors still lay wide open as if he had left in a hurry.
Doing her best to ignore it, she walked purposefully to the shower, gathering a freshly ironed uniform from the cupboard on the way past. Once dressed, she moved stiffly to the kitchen and flicked on the