Max ended the call and looked out over the pool and gardens. I crept from the room and acted as if I’d just arrived home.
‘Max?’ I called.
Max was in the same spot on the patio, but when he heard my voice he turned around. ‘Hello.’
‘You’re home early!’
He came inside and greeted me with the customary perfunctory kiss. It was one of those small marital rituals that always brought me immense pleasure. We went to the kitchen, and I opened a bottle of wine.
‘So why are you home at this hour?’ I asked, pushing Max’s glass across the counter to him.
Max lifted his glass and touched it to mine. ‘Just had a few phone calls to make, so I decided to make them from here. Nothing for you to worry about.’
The truth was, I knew what kind of person Max would want to return money to: one of those shady investors. Someone crooked. The kind of investor Max might have turned to when he was desperate, but someone he would definitely want off his books now.
Still, as long as Max wasn’t talking to a secret lover, I was going to take his advice and not worry about it.
‘All right,’ I said. ‘I won’t.’
35
PIPPA
NOW
‘Why don’t we go out for an early dinner?’ Gabe suggests.
He looks weary. It’s 4 pm and we’re standing in the kitchen. The girls have been home, as they don’t go to preschool on Wednesdays, and Gabe has had a full schedule of imaginative play, craft and baking.
‘Sure,’ I say.
After lunch with Kat and Mei yesterday, I’d told Gabe that Mei had figured out it was Amanda on the cliff, but I didn’t tell him of her suspicion that it wasn’t a coincidence. I was still shocked that Mei could think Gabe could be guilty of something. Particularly since, this time, he was the one protecting me.
We arrive at The Pantry half an hour later. The after-school rush is over but it’s still too early for most people to be thinking of dinner, so it’s just us and an older couple sharing a fancy-looking ice-cream sundae. The girls look at them enviously.
‘Why are they allowed ice cream before dinner?’ Asha demands.
‘I told them they could,’ Dev says, appearing like a hero before Asha has a meltdown, ‘but only if they eat a bowl of brussels sprouts immediately afterwards. Would you girls like the same deal?’
The girls look appalled and quickly move on from the ice cream, instead focusing on the coloured pencils and paper that Dev has placed on the table.
‘What can I get you?’ Dev asks us.
Gabe and I order a bottle of wine, apple juice for the girls, and a bowl of chips to get us started. As Dev writes down the order, I think again of my visit to The Pantry the day before and what Mei had said. I don’t believe it was a coincidence.
‘Your mother told me that you handle wills and estates,’ Dev says, as he tucks his notebook back into his apron. ‘I’ve been meaning to do a will. Are you taking new clients?’
‘Of course,’ I say. ‘Give me a call.’
Dev leaves us and returns gratifyingly quickly with the chips. Then, as the girls focus on their colouring, Gabe and I enjoy a few moments of precious silence. For the first time in twenty-four hours my mind feels blank. Numb. Under the circumstances, it’s the best I can hope for.
‘What happened to the woman who was outside our house?’ Asha says out of nowhere.
Her voice is loud in the quiet cafe. Her eyes are on her drawing.
I put my drink down on the table. ‘Which woman, baby?’
‘The one that was on the cliff before the police came.’
She reaches blindly for a chip, dunking it in sauce and lifting it to her mouth without looking up from her drawing. Freya, on the other hand, immediately looks up.
I glance at Gabe as I try to activate my brain. We’ve never had this conversation with the girls. I’d thought it was still a few years off. I’d planned to thoroughly research the best ways to talk to kids about suicide, maybe even consult a psychologist first. Trust kids to interfere with best-laid plans.
‘Well . . .’
‘Did she jump off the cliff?’ Asha asks, looking up. She raises her eyebrows, her expression simultaneously curious and uninterested, as if it is something she’d been meaning to ask about but isn’t of much importance either way.
‘I heard Nana and Papa saying she jumped. And you and Daddy did too.’
Gabe puts down his wine. ‘It was an accident, baby girl. She walked too close to the edge, and she fell. That’s why Mummy and Daddy tell you not to go anywhere near the cliff.’
It is classic Gabe: the perfect response. He says nothing to alarm her while also reinforcing the importance of staying away from The Drop. Even now, it makes me fall in love with him a little bit more.
‘Did she get dead?’ Asha asks.
Both girls stare at us. Even Gabe falters for a second. Eventually he answers the only way he can.
‘Yes,’ Gabe says finally. ‘She did.’
Asha nods wisely. ‘Her family must be very sad.’
‘Yes,’ Gabe says. ‘I imagine they are.’
Asha appears to think about this. Gabe and I don’t look at each other.
‘Where is the lady now?’ she asks.
Her gaze moves back to the rainbow she is drawing. I want to ask her about it. Offer to help. Anything other than answer these questions for my beautiful little girl.
‘She’s in heaven,’ Gabe says.
Asha looks at me then. Her expression is slightly different now. Less wise. All I see is her small round face. The vulnerability of it. I want to take her in my arms and block her ears, so she never has to try to understand any of this stuff.
‘With my mum?’
I take a breath in, hold it, then slowly let it go. And I do her the respect of looking her in the eye when I answer. ‘Yes, baby. With your mum.’
36
PIPPA
THEN
‘I have to tell you something,’ Gabe said.
I pulled two glasses out of the cabinet, set them on the kitchen counter and looked at him expectantly. It didn’t occur to me to be worried, even though, on reflection, the words ‘I have to tell you something’ rarely precede anything good. On hearing them, my heart rate didn’t speed up. I didn’t have the faintest idea what was coming.
It was just that things had been so damn good. Three weeks earlier we’d moved into our stunning new dream home – a four-bedroom renovated Edwardian house with a swimming pool and a rich green lawn. Freya was a delight: a busy but thriving almost two-year-old. We’d just put her to sleep in her big girl bed. We’d even been talking about trying for another baby.
‘I’m so sorry.’
I thought it must have something to do with money. The house had been so expensive. We’d taken out a mortgage that was a challenge to the risk-averse side of me, but Gabe was so confident that we could afford it. I remember feeling a flash of annoyance at myself. Why had I listened to him? Why hadn’t I suggested something smaller and cheaper? Perhaps it was because his boss, Max Cameron, seemed to believe that he could do no wrong? It was hard to imagine that he had anything other than complete job security.
But it wasn’t the house.
‘There’s a little girl,’ he said.