The Right Time (11 page)

He looked around the table at the stunned faces of his daughters. ‘What exactly is it that you're so worried about, girls?'

‘That they'll pull the house down!' Ellen said plainly.

Evie looked like she was in shock.

‘Some of the proposals we've been shown have them keeping the house and incorporating sympathetically designed town-houses into the backyard. Council around here is pretty strict about preserving the streetscape.'

‘But you can't guarantee that,' said Liz.

‘If we sold to a private buyer we couldn't guarantee they wouldn't turn around and sell it either,' Evelyn pointed out.

‘Surely you didn't expect us to stay here forever?' said Edward. ‘And once it's sold, it's out of our hands.'

‘And we lose our family home,' said Ellen. ‘The place where we grew up, our history.'

‘But we can't lose our history, Ellen. You of all people should know that, you teach the subject,' said Edward. ‘History is not in bricks and mortar, and leadlight windows, it's in our memories, in our hearts. Tearing down the house can't destroy that.'

He looked around the table. ‘You're all in the process of creating your own histories, with your own families, in the work that you do. People move on, and life goes on. Mum and I have got a little more history we want to create ourselves. It's our time.'

Evie dropped down on one knee to retie her laces. She'd put her runners on in a hurry this morning and her left foot felt sloppy
inside her shoe. She pulled the laces in firmly; that was better. She stood up again, positioning the earphones of Tayla's iPod into her ears. Tayla would have a holy fit if she knew her mother was using it, but Evie always had it back in place before she was home from school, so what she didn't know . . .

Evie did a quick survey of her surroundings. She hadn't walked here before. It was a bush reserve with a level walking track that bordered a creek for part of the way. She had discovered all sorts of places over the last month or so, courtesy of Google Maps. She liked going out of the area a bit, she was less likely to bump into anyone she knew that way. It made her feel anonymous, and free. At first she hadn't cared where she walked. She just had to walk. It was better than wandering aimlessly around the house, wondering how her life had got to this point, what had happened to the man she had married.

She took off along the path, her shoes pounding on the concrete, quickly establishing a rhythm in time with the music piping into her ears. The day after that dreadful night Evie had functioned on autopilot. She had sent Craig off to do whatever he wanted for the day, in truth because she could barely stand to look at him. She had taken the kids to McDonald's as she had promised and ordered herself a large burger meal with every extra available, and a thickshake instead of Coke. Once they had sat down and she had organised everyone with their meals, laid out Cody's burger and emptied his chips into the box the way he liked, Evie had opened hers and the look of it had made her feel suddenly queasy. Even the smell was nauseating. She'd been feeling sick to the stomach since the previous night.

‘So, there are these places, for adults, you know,' Craig had said. ‘Where adults can get together.'

She'd frowned. ‘What, like a club?'

‘Yeah, they are like clubs. That's exactly right. You can have a drink, and there's music, and you get to meet people.'

Evie didn't know what this had to do with their sex life. She'd heard some couples liked to go to dance classes. Her friend, Wendy, had only recently decided to take up dance classes with her husband, to spice things up a little, she'd told the girls one morning at playgroup. Everyone had oohed and aahed, and giggled and
asked questions. Evie had wondered how dance classes could spice things up – Craig would hate it. She was glad they didn't need to spice things up.

Or so she had thought.

‘Is there dancing?' she asked him.

‘I reckon there's probably some dancing.'

‘But you hate to dance.'

‘I don't think you have to dance.'

‘So you're not talking about dance lessons?'

Craig had laughed a big belly laugh then.

‘I don't get what you're talking about,' Evie said, becoming a little frustrated. ‘I thought you were going to tell me something you wanted . . .
sexually
,' she added, lowering her voice.

He seemed a little nervous. ‘Well, I am.'

She frowned. ‘What's going to a club and meeting people got to do with . . .' And then she stopped suddenly, her mouth hanging open, her heart dropping like a stone.

‘There's these clubs,' Craig went on carefully, ‘and they're all above board, they're only for married couples. Well, maybe you don't have to be married, but they're for couples anyway. Swingers' clubs.'

‘What?' she said, her voice barely making it out of her throat.

‘It's all really safe, and clean, and respectable.'

‘
Respectable?
' she squeaked. ‘Married couples . . . swapping with each other? You call that
respectable
?'

‘Look, you were the one who wanted to talk about this,' he said defensively. ‘This goes on everywhere, you've got no idea, Ev. In regular neighbourhoods, with normal people. Probably someone you know is doing it.'

‘I doubt it,' she grimaced.

‘How would you know? You think anyone's going to tell you? You're so narrow-minded.'

‘I'm not narrow-minded . . . it's just a shock.'

‘You're shocked, yet you were prepared to take it up the arse?'

‘Craig!'

‘You said it, not me,' he taunted. ‘I wouldn't ask you to do something so disgusting.'

‘But you want me to . . .
be
with someone else's husband, and you don't think there's anything wrong with that?'

‘Not between consenting adults, no. And anyway, you don't even have to do anything if you don't want to.'

‘What, I'm just expected to sit and watch?' she cried.

He groaned. ‘I knew you wouldn't be into it. I dunno why you asked if you weren't going to have an open mind.' He stood up. ‘You were the one who said you don't want to end up like Tim and Ellen.'

She looked up at him. ‘You think partner swapping is going to keep our marriage together?'

‘Think about it, Evie, we've never even had sex with anyone else,' he glared down at her. ‘How long do you think it'll be before curiosity kills the cat? Don't you reckon it might be better to at least try it, in a safe place, with both of us involved, giving our blessing?'

How could she ever give her blessing to that?

‘
Mother!
' Tayla cried. ‘Aren't you going to
do
something?'

Evie had been jolted out of her reverie in time to see Fanta streaming across the table and Cody in tears while Jayden laughed hysterically.

‘It's going everywhere,' Tayla squealed, jumping clear of the table and clutching her packet of fries to her chest.

‘Jayden! What did you do?' Evie demanded, grabbing the cup, though there was nothing left to save.

‘I didn't do nothin!' Jayden protested. ‘He did it himself, the stupid dumbhead!'

Cody wailed as Evie attempted to stem the flood with flimsy paper napkins. People were staring. A young boy in uniform appeared with a mop and bucket.

‘It's all right, ma'am,' he said. ‘I'll clean it up.'

‘My frieth are all wet, Mummy,' Cody sobbed.

‘It's okay, darling, I'll get you some more.'

‘Go up to the counter, ma'am,' said the boy, ‘they'll replace his drink for you.'

‘Oh, no, it's okay,' said Evie, trying to wipe Cody off with the sodden napkins. ‘It was my fault.'

‘It's all right, ma'am, part of the service,' he said. ‘Hey matey, you can get another drink, okay?'

‘Can I get another drink too?' Jayden piped in.

‘Shoosh, Jayden,' said Evie, gathering up their things.

‘How come he gets everything just because he's so stupid?'

‘I not thtupid, Jayden!'

‘Are too!'

‘Be quiet!' Evie hissed, ushering them out of the young man's way. ‘Thank you so much.'

Evie had herded the children over to the counter and bought them whatever they asked for. More fries, drinks, sundaes, whatever. She paid for it all, she didn't care, she just wanted to get out of there.

‘But where are we going to eat all this, Mother?' Tayla wanted to know as Evie bustled them out the door.

‘We'll go to the park,' she said.

She'd sat on the park bench, watching the kids, her head still buzzing. Cody stayed snuggled in beside her, eating his sundae, out of harm's – and his brother's – way.

Craig had stormed off to bed that first night, his back turned away from her when she came into the room. She thought about talking to him, coaxing him, offering sex. But she really didn't feel like it, she was too upset. She climbed into bed and stayed over on her side, but she couldn't get to sleep for ages.

When she woke in the morning Craig was already up. He was sitting out at the breakfast table, reading the paper, totally ignoring the mayhem the boys were creating around him trying to make their own breakfast.

‘Why don't you go and have the day to yourself?' Evie had suggested wanly.

‘Fine with me,' he'd returned, slapping the paper down on the table and walking out of the room.

Evie leaned against the railing now, breathing hard, her legs rippling as oxygen pumped through her veins. She'd been surprised by that sensation at first, even a little startled, but now she loved it. It made her feel like she was alive.

The next week had gone by in a blur. Evie had thrown herself into making the food for the anniversary party, back-to-school shopping and end-of-holiday outings and play dates for the children. She'd filled in every minute of every day, had said yes to every request from the kids all week, which had meant that although she'd been run ragged, she hadn't had time to think.

Craig had been morose, but Evie had managed to stay out of his way for the most part. Gradually, though, things had begun to thaw between them. Frostiness had melted into begrudging politeness, until, on the night before the anniversary party, he had called her Pud with some affection.

When she had come downstairs that evening after putting the kids to bed, Craig was sitting at the table rather than in front of the telly. He obviously wanted to talk.

Evie took a seat at the table opposite him.

‘I don't want things to be like this, Craig,' she said first.

‘Me either,' he said, putting his hand over hers. ‘I knew you'd come around.'

Her stomach lurched. She'd hoped he would say let's just drop it, pretend it never came up. But she knew in her heart that wouldn't work either. It would be the elephant in the room from now on. Evie knew what her husband wanted, and if she didn't go along with it, he might go ahead and do it without her. Curiosity would one day kill the cat, he'd said so himself. There was no getting out of this.

‘I'd just like a little time to get used to the idea,' Evie said in a small voice.

He'd picked up her hand then and kissed it. ‘Take all the time you need, Puddin'.'

So now it was hanging over her like clouds on washing day, threatening to ruin everything. She could think of little else, but she couldn't talk to anyone about it. How could she? She'd foolishly tried to bring it up the next day with Emma, but it had just come out, she desperately needed to hear someone say that it was sick, or weird, or just plain wrong, so that she didn't have to feel like there was something wrong with her. Maybe Craig was right, normal people were doing it on their very street, but she had her doubts. And if they really were doing it, then she had her doubts they were normal.

A few days later, she had finally found herself alone in the empty house. She had taken the kids to school, and Cody to preschool, and returned home to get on with her chores. But the house felt strange and quiet, and her thoughts were too loud, echoing off the walls of her skull, replaying Craig's words over and
over. She decided she just had to face this head-on, see what she was up against. She googled ‘clubs for swingers', and then clicked on the first thing that came up without looking too closely. A page opened, purple and black with blinking lights. She scanned the page, her eyes taking in random words and phrases – no prostitution, no single guys . . . adult play . . . fantasy . . . orgy room. Evie gasped. Her eyes drifted to photos down the side panel. At first glance they looked like those awful pictures from the holocaust, limbs and bodies all thrown together in a heap. She blinked, looking more closely.

Evie's heart had leapt out of her chest as she fumbled with the mouse to close the page. She felt sick. What if one of the kids stumbled across this? She knew there was a way to delete the history, so she searched through the menu until she found it. It went back day by day for a week, but something compelled her to click on ‘Show All History'. Evie sat stunned as pages of porn sites came up, all mixed in with the kids' Google searches and fan sites, and her email. The proximity alarmed her: surely it wasn't that difficult for any of the kids to come across this? Jayden was far more cluey on the computer than she was, and she'd found it easily enough. Evie felt the walls closing in around her, making it hard to breathe. She had to delete all of this, obviously, but then Craig would know she'd seen it, wouldn't he? But she couldn't just leave it here. Well, so what, what was he going to say to her? How could he defend this?

With a trembling hand Evie clicked on Clear History and it was all gone. Just like that. Now she had to get out of here. She grabbed her keys and ran out the door in the clothes she was wearing – a skirt, T-shirt, and thongs on her feet. She hadn't walked very far before her feet started to hurt, and her thighs began rubbing together uncomfortably. But she couldn't stop, and she couldn't go back to the house, not yet. She walked and walked, till her thighs were chafed and the balls of her feet were burning, all the way to the local coffee shop. She ordered her usual skinny cappuccino, and a rich chocolate and caramel slice. But when it was placed in front of her, Evie had the same queasy feeling as she'd had that day at McDonald's. Well, she had to get over this. Food was her comfort, her solace; nothing
made her feel better than food. She took a tentative bite, then another, but as she swallowed it down, it felt slimy, like eating liver, leaving a sickly aftertaste. She pushed the plate aside and finished her coffee, blinking back tears. When she paid at the counter, she bought a bottle of water and began the long, painful walk home.