The Fallout. Rebecca Thornton
over, screen-side up. She doesn’t know why she does it. It’s an instinctive action, but she can’t stop herself. She’s almost unaware that she’s doing it. She makes a big show of looking at it, her chin pulling right into her neck. There it is. The green background of a new WhatsApp notification.
‘Look,’ she says. ‘You’ve got a message.’
Ella snatches the phone but it’s too late. Sarah has managed to read and digest the entire contents, well before Ella swiped it back. Her stomach flips over. Oh my God! Her first thought is that she can’t wait to get back to Liza to tell her what she’s just found out. But then she realises that perhaps it’s not such a good idea after all – what with everything going on with her and Gav at the moment. Her second thought is that it actually can’t be true. She wouldn’t. She just wouldn’t. Oooh, but she has.
Ella, with her perfect, handsome husband. Her two blond, angelic children.
‘Oh my God,’ Sarah mutters, a half smile curling up her lips. This is more like it. The earlier power she’d felt over handling Ella’s phone has morphed into something else entirely.
‘Wolf. Shhhh. Shhhh.’ Ella is going red now. Sarah watches as she squeezes her little boy’s arm, leaving small imprints in his pudgy flesh. ‘Sarah, I …’ And then she stops, breathes in deeply and stands up straight. ‘Actually, Sarah, you know what? I have got twenty minutes before I pick up Felix. I will have that coffee with you.’
Bingo! Now, perfect Ella is going to want to be her friend. At this point, Sarah doesn’t give Liza a second thought. She can feel Ella’s fingertips through her grey top. She allows herself to be led back into the soft-play. When they arrive, Liza’s slumped on the chair, gazing into the distance. Sarah knows that she’s too tired to have been thinking of anything much. That the last thing she’ll want to do is socialise.
‘Thea’s asleep,’ Liza mouths, giving a thumbs up. But then she clocks Ella and a slight frown crosses her face.
‘Liza,’ says Ella. ‘Look who I just bumped into.’ Aha, Sarah thinks. So you do remember. ‘How are you?’ Ella sounds almost sympathetic. Now why would that be, Sarah wonders. Ella and Liza were never close, were they?
‘Oh hi, both of you.’ Liza looks at Sarah – something accusatory in her expression and then, the strangest thing, she spills a bit of her coffee, and drops her phone.
‘Oh God, silly me,’ Liza flusters. ‘So cack-handed today.’ Most unlike Liza, Sarah thinks. It’s almost as if she’s been thrown off balance. Usually, in circumstances like these, Sarah would cast Liza a glance. One that says a multitude of things: I know. I’m sorry, but come on, we can get the gossip. We can find out what the hell she’s been doing all these years. I’ll steer the convo so you don’t have to make any effort. I’ll make it up to you.
‘So how are you?’ asks Ella.
‘I’m well. Thank you. Very well. Nice to see you,’ says Liza. ‘And another little … boy?’
‘Wolf,’ Sarah interjects. ‘Isn’t he gorgeous?’ Liza raises her eyebrows but manages to nod.
Sarah inwardly begs for Liza not to be in one of her narky, don’t-carish moods. She doesn’t have the energy to overcompensate when she’s already trying to be as welcoming as she possibly can.
But then Liza jumps. ‘Shit,’ she says. ‘Sarah, did you see Jack by the way? Is he OK?’
Fuck. Jack. Fuck, shit. Shit. Sarah glances outside, but he’s not to be seen. The wooden post he was climbing earlier is set back behind a tree, out of view from here. If she angled herself correctly she might be able to glimpse him, but it’s too late for that.
She absolutely cannot admit to Liza that she had seen him. That he was higher than he should have been on that bloody post, and that she’d been distracted before she could call out to him. Distracted by Ella Bradby, of all people. She can’t admit that in that moment, in that very moment that she’d seen her, both Liza and her beautiful, well-behaved little son had become totally dispensable.
‘Yes.’ Ella sounds almost bored. She sticks a leg out. ‘Yes, she saw him.’ She pulls out a menu from the wooden holder, her grey eyes scanning the protein shakes section. ‘He’s fine, isn’t he?’ she says, without looking up. Liza looks at Sarah, pointedly. Sarah knows that look. Why the fuck are you letting her answer? But before Sarah can say anything else, she finds her head moving up and down, mouth open, like she’s one of those freaky Mama dolls.
She tries to work out why Ella would have said that. But it’s too late now to do anything else and it saves her the bother of having to admit that she had sort of done her job. But not quite.
Sarah looks at Ella and thinks she catches a tiny wink. Almost imperceptible. A warm glow spreads across her chest. Something to tie them together. She forgets about her shitty work. She forgets about the tug of her womb. She forgets about the way she’s been feeling lately. Restless and edgy. Who gives a damn about marketing an old people’s home after all? She sits up straight, buoyed by these thoughts and the connection with the woman sitting next to her. But then she thinks about those moments outside on the balcony.
The moment when she’d seen Ella Bradby. The moment that she forgot about the promise to her best friend.
She looks over to the window again, desperately trying to quash the memories of everything that Liza had done for her last year when Tom had been away on business in Sydney.
She’d been twenty-eight weeks pregnant when she’d rung Liza and told her she had a ‘bad feeling’ and some pains. Tom had scoffed down the phone when she’d insisted on paying for someone to take Casper whilst she went into the hospital.
‘Fine,’ he’d said. ‘But we can’t keep doing this every time you have a “bad feeling”.’ But then, the silence as the ultrasound technician glided the Doppler over and over the same area on her stomach. ‘Just one more second,’ she’d said, pressing harder. Moving it around a bit more. Nothing. Liza had been her go-to then. Liza had been the one who had gripped her hand during the long, drawn-out labour, as she had given birth to the little girl they’d named Rosie. No. She will not think of that now.
She shifts her focus onto the other parents outside watching their kids. She notices a lady craning her neck over the fence at the back of the playground – undoubtedly looking at the new tennis courts. If Jack is in any danger, she thinks, someone will have spotted it. And he’d probably have clambered down from that post now anyway. He would be under the pirate ship and they’d have twenty clear minutes with Ella Bradby. To make up for all that lost time. She clears her throat and turns to Liza.
‘Yes,’ she says. ‘Yes. He was at the back of the sandpit.’ That much is true at least, she thinks. ‘I waved at him. He’s absolutely fine.’
WhatsApp group: Stuff
Members: Sarah, Camilla
Sarah: Guess who I’ve just spotted at The Vale Club?!
Camilla: Holy shit! Don’t tell me the hottie from SCD? I read that he was there in the Mail yesterday! Couldn’t come up today. Taking Elodie to dentist.
Sarah: Ella Bradby!
Camilla: Oh – yes! Gosh. How was she? Never heard from her again, did we? Did we ever find out why?
Sarah: Didn’t speak to her yet. Still looks the same. Just trying to resist cake. Will try and speak to her later and get the goss.
Camilla: You ok? You looked upset this morning at school drop off. Tried to catch you but didn’t want to get stuck talking to Carmen.
Sarah: Yes. 2WW. I think I’m about to get it though. PMT off the charts.
Camilla: You peed on a stick yet?
Sarah: No. Can’t bring myself to see a neg.
Camilla: