It Started with a Kiss Read online

  In my mind the affair had become all-consuming, because prior to meeting Blake, I hadn’t been interested in sex. After my miscarriage and our growing distance, it had become normal for Liam and I not to sleep together apart from monthly duty sex. I’d assumed that lust and desire was behind me. I truly thought I’d never have those feelings again.

  But now that I’d tasted it with Blake, I noticed I was starting to look at men again as sexual beings. The local barista, the neighbour walking his collie, random men filling up petrol at the service station. Right now, no guy was safe from my carnal thoughts. It wasn’t so much that I wanted to have sex with them, it was just that I was now aware of them and aware of my body.

  I remembered how my body worked and I wanted to work it every day.

  I was more than a wife and mother. I was a woman. A woman who desired to be touched and kissed.

  The more I thought about Blake, the more I felt my resolve not to call or text him wavering. If I wanted him and he wanted me, why shouldn’t we be together? I wanted to behave recklessly, I really did. I now had an inkling as to why some men and women behaved foolishly. Lust was intoxicating.

  Once home, I took myself off for a walk along the beach and rang my brother, Auguste, to fill him in on everything that had been going on with Liam and the farmer.

  ‘Sounds like you’re infatuated,’ he concluded.

  ‘Really, Einstein! I never would’ve guessed.’

  ‘Just calling it as I see it, Fri.’

  ‘I know how it is. I’m living with it. I need you to tell me how to get over it.’

  ‘Over Liam or this married farmer character?’

  I thought about it a moment. ‘Both.’

  ‘Ride it out, babe. That’s all you can do.’

  ‘Ride it out? Are you kidding me?’

  ‘What else can you do? Liam’s going through a phase. Give him time.’

  I made a strangled ‘ptpth’ sound.

  ‘Fri, he loves you and the girls. This situation isn’t permanent unless you want it to be. Can you imagine Liam living with Brad long term? They’d kill each other.’

  ‘It’s just…’

  ‘Complicated. I know. But what the hell are you doing hooking up with a married man? It’s insane. It won’t end well for you, Fri. It can’t.’

  I could feel tears pricking my eyes. ‘Don’t you think I know that? Anyway, I’m not seeing him again.’

  ‘Good. Does Liam know?’

  I almost dropped my phone. ‘Jesus, no.’

  ‘Again, good. Just end it now, Fri, before it really gets out of hand. The damage—’

  ‘I will. I have.’

  ‘Good,’ Auguste repeated a third time. ‘Do the parentals know about any of this?’

  I breathed in sharply. ‘No, but they’re aware that there’s trouble in paradise. I don’t think they want to know, to be honest.’ ‘True. Keep in touch, okay? I know you think I’m being harsh but I do love you, Fri.’

  I was choking up. ‘Thanks. Love you, too.’

  After hanging up, I walked further along the beach, feeling the cool grains of sand crunch beneath my feet and between my toes. I felt sad that Auguste and my parents lived in Perth. I’d initially moved to Sydney for a year to broaden my horizons and I’ve been here almost twenty-three years. I missed them. Sporadic phone calls weren’t enough, not that I wished to enlighten Mum and Dad about my current situation. As for my sister, Summer, she’d been living in Dubai the last ten years. It’s not that we have a strained relationship, it’s just that she’s been living overseas for so long I feel I hardly know her anymore. At least I saw Auguste every few months when he was here for work.

  I had him and Rosie to confide in, and I used to have Liam.

  He and I had been so young when we got together. Today the memories were hazy, blinded as I was by my lust for Blake. I had to push myself to remember.

  But that feeling when I met him for the first time? It really was love at first sight.

  Two years down the track when my friend, Sandy, called about a potential job in Melbourne, I knew it was make or break. And when I told Liam about it, I hoped he might say ‘don’t go’ and that I would be swayed, but what happened next came totally out of left field.

  ‘Marry me?’

  When Liam asked me, I thought he was joking. I hadn’t pegged him for the marrying kind. But he looked so earnest, so sincere, it was clear he meant every word.

  I said yes without a second’s hesitation.

  I couldn’t leave. Go off half-cocked to a new state, a new city, on some girl’s own adventure. Begin a new life without Liam. My boyfriend loved me. Adored me. We adored each other. So what that we were young and all of my other friends were too busy partying and getting settled in their new careers to get engaged and heaven forbid, married.

  I knew we’d made the right decision. We were simpatico.

  I said no to Sandy and concentrated on getting stuck into liking my job as a naturopathic assistant. There’d be opportunities down the track for me to become a fully qualified professional. In the meantime, I had a wedding to plan, though I actually felt a little nauseous when six months out from the date, I succumbed and bought Bride to Be magazine.

  Marrying Liam wasn’t a mistake. It was never a mistake.

  After we got married, we set up house together and did regular ‘coupley’ things like shop for furniture and groceries. I continued working. He worked. We built a life together, and then, after Olivia and Evie arrived and our family was complete, we moved to Newport. Life was good and the four of us continued along our merry path. Or so it seemed.

  When I found out I was pregnant a third time, Liam and I were surprised but not unhappy. The baby wasn’t planned, but when we got used to the idea, we felt excited, even more so when we found out we were having a boy.

  My phoned beeped, pulling me out of my memories. The farmer had sent another text.

  On the one hand, I was lusting after him, but on the other, thinking about my lost baby made me think about family, my family, especially Evie and Liv.

  I read the text. Let’s get together again soon. Call me.

  I wasn’t ready for this, with him or anyone else. Feeling strong after my talk with Auguste, I texted him. Thanks for your texts, but maybe we should hold off. Get some breathing space. Hope you understand, Fri. x. Then I hit send. Sensible Friday had taken the reins.

  Sure, Irish, came the reply. You should have told me earlier. I really like you though.

  That was unexpected. Tears welled in my eyes and I swallowed hard as I read the text again before tucking the phone into my jacket pocket.

  My emotions were all over the place. How could he switch off so easily? Desperate to see me one minute and happy to take a breather the next? I’d grossly over-estimated the farmer’s feelings for me. So my fling with him had meant nothing?

  Shut up, Friday! What did you expect? You didn’t text him for days, and when you eventually did, it was to tell him to back off. What choice did he have?

  I watched the waves as they crashed on the sand. Over and over. What was happening to me? I was up and down, twitching, jumping every time my phone beeped. I was a nervous wreck. Blake wasn’t in love with me. I wasn’t in love with him, either. What I felt was sexual attraction. I knew that, but by God it was fierce.

  By the time I’d sufficiently composed myself to walk back into the house, it was late afternoon.

  9

  On Friday afternoon, twelve days after returning from Utopia, I arrived home feeling positive and energised, having met with another two women Maria had recommended. At last, my client list was growing. I almost felt I should be paying her a commission.

  ‘Hello, angels,’ I called out to the girls when I walked into the lounge room.

  Mistake.

  I’d caught them bickering and turning up the television volume too loud as they fought over whether to watch The Big Bang Theory or MTV. I suddenly felt old, stupid and prematurely grey.
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  Then Liv spied me. ‘Can Brodie come over?’

  ‘Now?’ I hesitated, searching for the right words. ‘Not today, Olivia. I’ve just walked in the door. Besides, it’s almost dinner time and I haven’t even thought about what we’re eating.’

  ‘You always say that.’ And off she flounced.

  What to do about that girl? Brodie seemed nice enough… for a boy who wore his jeans halfway down his backside, but then again, all teenage boys did.

  Liv had been hanging out with Brodie (He’s not my boyfriend, Mum!) for five months, and, when he did come over, they spent a lot of time in her room. I was getting sick of having to tell her to leave her door open when they were together. My request was always met with disdain and a skyward eye roll.

  A recent conversation had gone something like this.

  Me: ‘Honey, close the door one more time and I’ll remove it altogether.’

  Liv: ‘You wouldn’t dare!’

  Me: ‘Try me.’ (I shuddered, remembering what I’d got up to when I was fifteen.)

  Liv: ‘But, Mum! We’re not doing anything.’

  Brodie’s parents had been invited to the ill-fated summer barbeque. I wanted to get to know them—and they seemed lovely—but whenever I’d spoken to either of them, Liv had glared at me. What? Was my inner zombie showing?

  Tricia, Brodie’s mother, had said, ‘I have two older girls. I know what it’s like worrying about who your daughter is hanging out with.’

  ‘It’s not that,’ I’d started when she reached for my arm and squeezed it.

  ‘Except that it is.’ Her hold had relaxed. ‘I know Brodie likes Liv very much but beyond that…’ She’d shrugged. ‘We just have to be aware of what they’re doing and keep the lines of communication open. Once teenagers shut down, it’s almost impossible to get them to open up again.’

  ‘I’ll take your lead,’ I’d replied with a laugh. ‘This is all new to me.’

  I was haphazardly throwing chicken and vegetables together for a stir-fry while thinking about the girls. Surely parenting would be easier when Liv was twenty. I just had to stay on task and keep my daughters on the straight and narrow, silently wishing I could fast-forward the next five years.

  Five years! I had no idea what my life would look like five days from now, let alone five years.

  ‘Yoo-hoo! Just passing.’

  Stephanie was at my back door with the words she used every time she dropped in.

  ‘Just checking we’re still on for tomorrow night.’

  Mentally, I slapped my forehead. I had completely forgotten to tell her about Rosie. ‘Stephanie, come in. So sorry I haven’t called. Life’s been frantic.’

  Stephanie smiled.

  ‘The thing is, Rosie wants me to help her out at this divorce party she’s organised—’

  Stephanie’s eyes widened in expectation.

  ‘I said I was having dinner with you. But she really needs the help.’

  She was clicking her tongue, clearly disappointed. ‘I see.’

  ‘Of course, you can come.’

  Stephanie raised her eyebrows. ‘Nolan’s away. The kids will be out. I’ll be at a loose end.’ She was weighing up the pros and cons.

  ‘I realise a divorce party isn’t what you have in mind for our night out. I’m so sorry. We’ll do it another night.’

  ‘The hairdresser’s booked—’

  ‘Not sure this is the sort of party you need a “do” for,’ I cut in.

  ‘Still,’ Stephanie replied, ‘it’s either that or a toasted cheese sandwich and repeats of Downton Abbey.’ A moment’s silence. ‘I’ll come.’

  Drats! I really thought she’d say no. ‘Okay, but you’re aware that it’s a divorce party?’

  ‘So you’ve said. But I really don’t understand the concept.’

  That’s what I was afraid of… that and World War III breaking out between Stephanie and Rosie.

  ‘It’s just that…’ Stephanie hesitated. ‘I really wanted to talk to you, Friday. You,’ she said again for emphasis. ‘How are you doing?’

  Welcome to the Northern Beaches inquisition.

  ‘Fine.’

  ‘Really? You don’t sound fine.’

  ‘I am, Stephanie. Really. Just busy.’ I gestured to the stir-fry in the pan on the stovetop. ‘Making dinner, the usual run around.’

  ‘I thought that with Liam coming home for the week while you were away, he’d realise that here is where he wanted to be and that the natural order would be restored.’

  I shrugged. Non-committal. Did not want to talk about it.

  Stephanie brushed my upper arm. ‘I know I’m a little older than you, Fri. But I’m not that different. I understand marriage can become a little tedious, but that’s where faith kicks in. Don’t you agree?’

  Silence.

  ‘It’s true,’ she persisted, ignoring my subtle eye roll. ‘There’s a reason the divorce rate’s so high. It’s because couples don’t work through their issues and try that bit harder.’

  ‘Probably best you don’t bring up that topic tomorrow night,’ I said, trying to lighten the conversation.

  She stared at me, unblinking. ‘Well, I’ll let you get back to it.’

  I walked her to the door.

  ‘One more thing—’

  I suppressed an urge to sigh.

  ‘I noticed Evie and Olivia walking home this afternoon. They weren’t walking on the footpath.’

  I waited for the punchline and obviously Stephanie was waiting for me to comment, but I had no idea what she was getting at.

  ‘They were walking on the road, Friday.’

  ‘Oh.’ I grinned. ‘I thought you were going to tell me they were drinking vodka and smoking a crack pipe.’

  Stephanie took a step back.

  ‘I’m joking,’ I reassured her.

  ‘Just remember,’ she said, lowering her voice. ‘People around here talk. About children. Parents.’ She patted my arm. ‘And when you go out, Friday, other women will be wary of you angling to steal their husbands. Not me, of course, but others.’

  Stephanie’s husband, Nolan, briefly popped into my mind. Short, grossly overweight and overbearing.

  ‘True, as you’ve mentioned before. Until tomorrow night.’ I waved until she was out of sight. Tomorrow night! What was I thinking?

  Dinner was relatively subdued and quick, what with Liv keen to skype Brodie and Evie wanting to finish in time to watch Meerkat Manor. I let them off kitchen duty, happy to have some time to myself to think over the week. Still, when I was clearing Evie’s plate, I noticed she’d barely touched her food. I’d made sure I’d cooked her vegetables separate to the chicken but she’d hardly eaten three mouthfuls. I made a mental note to ensure she had a big breakfast tomorrow morning.

  After cleaning up, I checked my phone and noticed there were a couple of texts from the farmer. While my ego was suitably flattered, my other, sensible side was harping. What part of taking a breather didn’t he understand? I scrolled through them.

  One: Can I swing by for a glass of wine and some scintillating conversation?

  Two: I need to see you, Irish. Think I’m falling in love with you.

  Okay. So that one got my attention. It wasn’t true, but I still wasn’t sure whether I should be flattered or alarmed.

  As I was holding my phone, a new message appeared.

  What are you doing? Talk to me.

  I felt bad. But I had nothing of note to say. Moments later, I relented and replied, Not much. God, I was boring. Then I remembered I’d met with Maria. Saw Maria last week.

  Really? Did she say anything?

  About us? Of course not.

  Ring me.

  No. Instead, I switched off my phone, checked on the girls and then ran a hot bath. A bubble bath, a hot tea and a good book was what I needed. Nothing more.

  The next day, Liam arrived at two o’clock to take the girls to dinner and a movie. It irked me that they stayed at Brad’s so they could spend tim
e with their dad and it irritated me even more when Olivia would laugh to herself, and when I’d ask what she was giggling about, she’d smile and say, ‘Oh, nothing. It’s just that Uncle Brad’s so funny.’

  Brad’s bachelor pad was possibly the last place I wanted my daughters hanging out, but they were used to it now and, besides, I had Rosie bleating in my ear about Jo’s divorce party. It was going to be a late night so it was better that the girls were with Liam.

  I didn’t tell Liam or the girls where I was going tonight. I’d briefly mentioned Rosie’s ideas about divorce parties to Olivia and Evie in passing but hadn’t elaborated. As for Liam? He definitely wouldn’t approve.

  I was saying goodbye to Liam when Evie stepped in between us.

  ‘Dad, how did you know Mum was the one?’ Then she turned to me. ‘Mum, how did you know Dad was the one?’

  Evie couldn’t help herself given how unhappy she was about our situation. To cheer herself up over the past few months, she’d ask questions like these to get us talking. She loved hearing stories about how we fell in love, our wedding—the dresses, the songs, the food, our honeymoon. She couldn’t get enough. Several times I’d found her leafing through our wedding album or watching the whole five hours on DVD.

  My heart broke listening to her now.

  Meanwhile, Olivia was gagging in the background, shouting, ‘Move along. We’ve heard all this before. It’s over.’

  ‘But I love hearing about Mum and Dad’s romance.’ Evie turned back to us. ‘And then when you kissed?’

  ‘Evie, sweetie,’ I said, kissing her on the cheek. ‘Let’s save it for another time, okay? Have a brilliant weekend.’

  She sighed. ‘Whatever. I still think I’m a lesbian by the way.’

  I shook my head and turned to Liam. ‘Take care of our girls.’

  ‘Always.’

  When all three were seated in Liam’s car, I blew the girls a kiss. ‘Behave,’ I mouthed. Liv threw me a ‘Whatever!’ look and Evie smiled sadly. Then they were gone.