Ines said suddenly, ‘It’s really nice to see you.’
‘I know, I’ve been so busy with the clinic –’
Ines interrupted, ‘I meant it’s nice to see you without Grant.’
‘What do you mean? You liked Grant, didn’t you? Everyone liked Grant!’ Brooke looked at the bottle of champagne. ‘Wait, is this champagne celebratory?’
‘I didn’t dislike him,’ said Ines. ‘He’s one of those people you feel like you should like . . .’ She paused. ‘It just always felt like you were concentrating.’
‘Concentrating?’
‘Like you were very aware of him.’
‘Isn’t that just being a good partner? Being aware of the other person?’
‘Sure. But it seemed like it only went one way. I never felt like he was concentrating on you. It was like he was the CEO and you were his devoted assistant.’
‘No,’ said Brooke. She was a strong, smart, educated woman who had no problem with flat tyres, spiders, light globes, overcharging mechanics or tough-talking real estate agents. She was deeply offended. ‘That’s not true. That is absolutely not true.’
‘I’m sure it’s not,’ said Ines steadily. ‘What would I know?’
They silently drank their champagne.
‘I’m sorry,’ said Ines. ‘That was a stupid thing to say. Look, I’ll show you what I bought.’ She heaved up the grocery bag onto the counter. ‘I got mood-boosting foods. Salmon. Bananas. I seem to remember you were always eating bananas at school.’
‘I did love bananas,’ said Brooke. ‘But then one doctor told me to cut them out in case they were triggering my migraines so I stopped eating them.’
She took the bunch of bright yellow bananas from Ines. ‘Sugar bananas,’ she said vaguely as a memory from childhood materialised, the image becoming slowly clearer, like a developing photo.
She was in her winter school uniform, dropping her schoolbag on the back veranda and running to rescue a tennis ball from the mouth of their extremely naughty black labrador. When she came back to retrieve her bag, a strange kid was on the back veranda, which was nothing new. There were always strange kids in their backyard, stealing their parents’ attention, except this one was rifling through Brooke’s bag, helping herself to a banana: an unbruised sugar banana Brooke had run out of time to eat at school, but one she still had every intention of eating, and there were flashing lights in Brooke’s eyes that she didn’t yet understand, but every time she told her mother about them, she was too busy to listen, too busy with other kids like this one, and how dare this stupid strange kid go through Brooke’s bag and steal her banana? Brooke felt enraged, violated, sick to the stomach.
She’d yelled, ‘Hey! You! Put it down! That’s my bag! That’s my banana!’
Brooke had never been a yeller. She was more of a sulker. It had been almost exciting to know she had the ability to yell as loudly as that, with righteous fury. The little girl looked up. Hair pulled back so tightly off her forehead her eyes were pulled into cat’s eyes. Elfin ears. Resentful face. She’d dropped the banana. Run away.
That’s why Brooke had recognised that little girl’s face in the article. She’d met Savannah as a child. It was no coincidence that she’d turned up at her family home: she’d been there before.
chapter thirty-seven
Now
‘So the bananas sparked this memory,’ said Ines Lang to her mother as they waited at the menswear counter to buy her dad a new tie for his birthday. ‘It was just after she and Grant – sweet Jesus, speak of the actual devil.’ Ines couldn’t believe it. ‘Don’t turn around.’ She dropped her gaze, but it was too late. He was heading towards them, threading his way past the racks of clothes.
‘Ines! I thought it was you.’ Brooke’s ex-husband, Grant Willis, was an ordinary-looking guy with a receding hairline and large ears, yet he carried himself as if he were a sex symbol, and he almost became as good-looking as he believed himself to be. Women awarded extra points for self-confidence. Men weren’t as generous with their marking.
‘Hi, Grant,’ said Ines. Not rude, but frosty. ‘Mum, this is Brooke’s ex-husband.’
‘Hold your horses, we’re not divorced yet,’ said Grant.
‘But you will be,’ said Ines. She said to her mother, ‘They will be.’
‘We’re not focusing on that right now,’ said Grant. ‘With Brooke’s mother missing.’ He looked momentarily uncertain. ‘I’m really fond of Joy. We were close.’