4. Chapter Two

Chapter Two

Eva Sinclair felt cold as she strode down the road, her hands gripping her son’s stroller ahead of her. The day dripped with heat, but the coldness that spread through her came from within. She had failed him. She was failing him now, even in this instant. How could she have let this happen?

Her son’s wails were slowing as if the hot air was smothering him. She checked over the top and made sure the canopy was shading him from the glare of the relentless sun. The agitated speed at which she was going seemed conversely to be calming him. Two years old: tantrum city.

Not that she could blame him. Honestly, right now she envied him; she too wanted to drop to her knees and howl. What choices had she made to get them here? What choices did she have left to fix it? Was there a fix? Was there a choice?

She gritted her teeth and tried to get it together. The car was toast. It had taken her an hour from home to walk this far and it would be twice as long back as the heat of the day arrived in force. She’d packed three bottles of water, one with a sippy straw for Spencer, still clutched in his hot little hand. What was she thinking, bringing him out like this? But what else could she do?

She hit the main street of Ribbonwood and ground her teeth, trying to calm herself and think rationally. She pulled up her phone to check her bank balance - an act of desperation - as if the number on the screen was about to change. $18.03 it still read, as it had every day for the last four days.

She did mental calculations. Milk was the priority, the only thing that would calm her son. She knew she should wean him from the bottle he still had first thing in the morning and last thing at night, but it was the last little comfort of babyhood that he had left. God knows she didn’t have the capacity right now to deal with the meltdowns that would ensue if she tried to take it away. Then, perhaps bread? Not the most nutritious thing, but then again, toddlers never ate anything bloody good for them anyway. At least it would fill their bellies. Maybe a tin of beans for some protein, maybe there’d be enough left over for an apple, perhaps even two? You could live off that, right? Just until…until…

A flash of cold terror hit her and again she pressed call on the same number she’d been dialling for the past week. It rang out again. That bastard .

For a moment, her vision faded to black. When she blinked her eyes open, she was at the front door of the general store. Taking a harsh breath in, she turned and used her back to open the door, pulling the stroller in, containing her now silent child. The small bell tinkled as the door swung shut and she cursed, hoping Spencer didn’t wake and start to scream. A beat. Blessed silence.

The store was cool, which should have been a relief. Instead, Eva felt herself start to shiver. She glanced up, just briefly, toward the counter. There she bloody was, Lara Bennett, cool as a cucumber, gazing down on her like a queen from her throne, eyes impassive, like Eva was a bug in her shadow. Eva scowled at her and tugged the stroller around the shelves.

She stared wide-eyed at the produce. Organic local began every label, before a price tag that made her eyes swim. Pomegranate, dragon fruit, lychees, not one damn apple.She found the milk fridge and blinked.The largest bottle of milk took up almost half her budget, though that wasn’t abnormal, the supermarket was the same these days.She found the bread and almost laughed.There were artisanal rustic sourdough loaves priced at an arm and a leg next to a small stack of plastic packaged, white, sandwich bread.One product for the tourists, one for the locals.Lara sure knew what she was doing alright.Eva was basic lousy white bread, and she felt every crumb of it.

A sudden flash of rage hit her. Imagine it. Imagine it. Swanning into Ribbonwood, cooing over the rainforest from your oversized SUV. Flashing your credit card over finger lime compote and maple smoked organic bacon before you drifted into some glass-walled daydream with a plunge pool overlooking the coffee plantation and posted the view on Instagram. That’s who shopped here. Not desperate, sweating locals with bare cupboards and blistered heels.

Her hand shot out, and she grabbed a wedge of ash brie and shoved it under the nappy bag in the bottom of the pram. She looked up. Nothing. A pang of vengeful glee hit her. Swipe, a handful of heirloom cherry tomatoes. Slip, a tin of smoked salmon.

She grabbed the stroller, about to turn into the next aisle, when an icy feeling sideswiped her with its suddenness. Lara was standing beside her, quite still, her eyes calm and watchful. Eva’s vision suddenly wavered. The glee turned to sickness. Instead of a goddamned sandwich, she was going to get served the humiliation of Lara Bennett’s rightful sanctioning. She felt so tired she almost collapsed.

“Here,” said Lara after a beat that seemed to last forever. “You look like you need this.”

A bottle of cold raspberry lemonade was pressed into her hand. She stared at it, dizzy and confused. Lara took it back and unscrewed the cap like she was a child, handing it back to her.

“Drink it,” she pressed. “I don’t want you passing out on my fucking floor,” her tone was brusque.

Eva blinked. She drank. It was cool and sweet. As the sugar slowly kicked in, she became aware of the heat pouring off her skin like she’d been baked alive out there. Lara watched her for a beat, then turned her back, stalking away down the aisle, confiscating Eva’s basket as she did. Eva stood there, uncertain. She drank half the bottle, partly because Lara had been right; she was low on blood sugar and hot as hell. She had the wherewithal to check on Spence. He was napping peacefully, his cheeks flushed but out like a light.

Finally, she steeled the nerve to slowly press her way back to the counter and face her fate. She pulled out her stolen items from the stroller and put them in front of Lara, forcing herself to meet her sharp blue eyes.

“That’s all, I swear,” she said dully. “I’m sorry.”

Lara picked them up without a word. She put them into a shopping bag on the counter. Eva swallowed. She couldn’t afford this, and she was damn sure Lara knew that. Was this her punishment? Having to flee the store without even milk for her boy?

She held her debit card between her fingers, awkward, prepared to bargain, tears of humiliation threatening at a low prickle. Lara was watching her. Was she enjoying this? Then she coolly picked up the bag on the counter and handed it over to Eva. It was heavy. Eva spotted a dozen eggs, a head of broccoli and some crackers amongst the items she’d picked and those she’d tried to steal. She held it in surprise, her mouth opening in confusion.

“I can’t afford-” she started miserably, but Lara held up her hand, cutting her off.

“Dan’s away again, huh?” she said evenly.

Eva felt her face flush red. She nodded, avoiding her eyes. There was a silence. When she finally looked up, Lara met her gaze.

“You know, we’re having a bonfire tonight. At mine. A few of the girls. You should come.”

Eva blinked. The words didn’t line up in any way that made sense.

“I can’t,” she said, like Lara was slow. “I’ve got Spencer. Plus, my car won’t start.”

“Bring him,” shrugged Lara. “He can nap in the spare room. Sadie will pick you up; she lives out your way. I think you need to get out of that house for a bit, don’t you?” Eva just stared. Lara nodded at the bag still clutched in her sweaty hand. “You okay to get home?”

It was only when she found herself back out the door, blinking in the bright light, a full bag of food stowed under her sleeping child and a half-drunk bottle of artisanal soda in her left hand that she realised she hadn’t managed to say thank you. Lara hadn’t given her the chance.

True to Lara’s word, just after tea time when Eva had coaxed a little omelette into her son’s mouth, Sadie O’Malley arrived at her front door, her daughter in tow, a lanky ten-year-old named Frankie who hung back and stared.

Sadie looked at her too, assessing. Eva was too tired to even care as Sadie glanced around the messy kitchen and piles of laundry on her couch. Going out seemed ridiculous. Impossible, even. What was happening here, exactly?

“Okay,” Sadie said. “Here’s what we’re going to do.”

Eva found herself organised into bathing her son and putting him in his pyjamas while Sadie lugged the car seat out the back of Eva’s useless sedan and wrestled it into her station wagon. Frankie hovered over the edge of the bathtub, making Spencer squeal and giggle, then bounced with him on the bed while Eva ducked into the bathroom to comb her hair, put on her damn bra and a swipe of lipstick. Then all four of them piled into Sadie’s car, a bottle of warm milk satiating Spence, making him drowsy.

Eva looked sideways at Sadie as she drove. They’d gone to school together, technically. Technically in that they’d been in the same year, but Sadie was a lone wolf, by virtue of being one of only two Aboriginal kids in the school, the other being her brother Dave, who was in the year below. She’d been a skinny kid back then, with thick wavy hair and dark skin, large wary eyes and an unwaveringly serious disposition. Eva could feel a hint of that same wariness as they sat side by side in the car, only now it seemed to her to be balanced by a bone-deep calmness. Sadie was at home in herself in a way Eva suddenly craved. Just imagine being that self-possessed.

“How do you know Lara?” she asked, by way of conversation, less comfortable than Sadie was with the silence.

Sadie darted a wry glance sideways.

“Well,” she said, “we went to school together. Ribbonwood High. You know it?”

Eva rolled her eyes.

“I mean,” she corrected, “when did you become, like…friends?”

“Oh, you mean White Barbie and Blak Barbie?” Sadie smirked. Eva winced. “She’s my best friend,” Sadie shrugged. “We go way back. Her bonfires are legendary.”

Eva stared out at the dense rainforest as they wound through the back roads, single track now, moving onto dirt, her son sleeping peacefully as the car wheels scuffed over the gravel. What was this secret Ribbonwood world where Sadie O’Malley and Lara Bennett were friends and Lara hosted something legendary? She thought of Dan, imagined what he might be up to right now, how she’d left her phone at home on the kitchen counter. Let him just ring, she thought, as the beginnings of sunset coloured the sky. Let him wonder .

Sadie turned down a long drive, then bumped her car up over the grass next to a modest wooden villa. Eva blinked. It wasn’t the mansion she’d heard Lara had scored in her ill-gotten gains, but it was lovely. It was carefully painted in bright tones, like a little jewel on the grassy plain. The macadamia orchard swept out in front of it.

Softly she gathered her sleeping son, following behind Sadie and Frankie who had scampered ahead in the lead to loudly shush the grownups whose voices were ringing out from inside. There were six other cars parked beside them, but when Eva and Spence made it to the door, the other inhabitants of the house had tumbled out the back door, their voices disappearing up the paddock and it was only Lara Bennett who smiled at the sight of the flushed-face sleeping child on her shoulder and silently crooked a finger to lead the way to an expansive spare room, a single mattress made up on the floor next to the king bed, ready for her child to be tucked away.

Eva hesitated as she covered her little boy with a blanket. She couldn’t leave him here, alone, to head out god knows where. Lara anticipated her worry, handing her a small electronic device.

“Baby monitor,” she whispered. Eva met her blue eyes and found herself smiling.

Sadie put her to work carrying a case of beer while Frankie skipped off ahead with Lara’s daughter Tilly, heads bent together, one dark one light, whispering and conspiring. Lara carried a basket, bottles of wine sticking out the top .

Eva saw the smoke and smelled the scent of charring meat even before they rounded a corner in the trees into a huge clearing and saw the fire. She stopped still and stared.

The fire was an immense leaping pile of flames, sending bright sparks up into the darkening sky. Several feet away was a whole separate BBQ, a woman with her back turned manning the grill, a bottle of beer dangling from her fingers. There were eight or nine other women, sprawled on picnic rugs and beanbags, drinking and chatting. Eva recognised them all.

The woman at the grill turned to see them arriving and Eva’s jaw dropped. It was Esme Walker.Everyone in Ribbonwood knew she and Lara were sworn enemies.Esme ran the small tuck shop directly across the street from the general store, her livelihood dependent on the country kids bussed in from all over the district to the high school.A modest affair, it sold pies and fresh doughnuts, icy poles and bags of sweets.

When Lara had taken over the general store it had been barely months before she too was offering cold drinks and mixed bags of sweets displayed prominently in the front window.The town was outraged at this blatant attempt to sabotage a much-loved local business.Esme was sweet, demure and hard-working.How dare that woman?Stern instructions were issued to school kids and parents picking up their children marched pointedly across the road to Esme’s tuck shop, Lara’s temptation all for nothing.Esme and Lara had glowered at each other across the street ever since, one vanquished, the other gratefully still in her rightful business.

“Ez,” called Lara now. “Put another steak on. This one looks like she hasn’t had red meat in six months.”

Esme laughed and nodded, toasting the new arrivals with her beer. Ez.

Around the fire, her own beer in hand, Eva gravitated back to Sadie.

“What the fuck is that?” she gestured at Esme and Lara bickering companionably over the grill, a haze of smoke wafting up between them, Lara pushing back her golden hair with a peal of laughter. Sadie glanced over in question.

“Oh, you mean the feud ?” she raised her eyebrows. Suddenly, a blinding smile swept over her features. Eva realised she’d never seen her smile before. It was as bright as the sun and twice as lovely. “You didn’t believe that, did you?” she asked. “Esme’s business was struggling, Lara puts up a bit of competition and the whole town throws themselves wholesale behind Esme? Convenient much?”

Eva stared at her. She looked over at the two women piling food on plates together like they were about to feed an army.

“Oh,” she said dumbly, watching on as Ribbonwood rearranged itself before her eyes.

Sadie just nodded .

“Yep.”

“So,” said Lara Bennett, half an hour later as she sat herself down next to Eva in the grass, licking the remains of the meat juice from her fingers, her golden hair glinting in the firelight. Eva looked up and saw the other women were all watching quietly, ready to hear her. “Tell us what’s going on with Dan.”