It was the perfect prelude to a magic show, but it turned out to be far less interesting. Charli dutifully pulled a purple pendant from the bag, dangling it in the air by its silver chain.
“Ahh, amethyst,” crowed Floss. “The beautiful purple flame with the power to transmute negativity into light.”
She’d lost me already. Transmute sounded like a word Wade would make up, and no part of the crystal was flaming.
“Amethyst has been known to cure many things including insomnia and nightmares,” Floss continued. “And they’re on sale today for the bargain price of thirty-five dollars.”
My mother piped up. “I’ll take two for the twins,” she said, charging her glass. “Cheynie likes purple, and Lincoln likes flames.”
“Sold!” beamed Floss.
The strong start to proceedings set the pace, and within twenty minutes, the velvet bag was empty. Floss’ schoolmarm crystal lecture had nothing to do with the quick sell out. Everyone just wanted to get the hell out of there.
Jasmine’s crew escaped first. They grabbed their purchases, a few half bottles of champagne and made a run for the door. The older women moved slower but were just as determined to leave.
Valerie Daintree led the pack. “I’ll pick my necklace up next week, Floss,” she called, already half way across the lawn.
“No worries, lovie,” she replied, waving her off from the front porch. “Thanks for coming.”
I was next out the door but didn’t make it as far as the front steps before Floss collared me. “You need to drive your mum home, Lily love,” she insisted. “She’s had a bit much to drink.”
I turned, looking back through the open front door. Mum had Charli bailed up in the kitchen. She still had a glass of wine in her hand, but she was steady on her feet, and the conversation looked calm.
“Are you sure?” I asked. “She looks okay to me.”
It was hardly a responsible attitude, but I wasn’t sure I’d survive the twenty-minute drive to the vineyard with my mother.
“She’s been on the sauce for hours.” Her voice was stern. “She’s not driving anywhere.”
“Whatever,” I grumbled, heading back inside. “But you can tell her.”
***
Nobody tells my mother what to do, but Floss Davis had an amazing way with words. By the time we finally got her out of the house, Mum thought that getting a lift home was her idea. Floss also has a way of roping people in against their will, and for this task, Charli became the patsy when she made her the designated driver.
As my mother gathered her belongings, Charli pulled me aside. “If I have to drive her home, you’re coming too,” she hissed.
“But I have my own car here.” It was a weak argument that didn’t fly for a second.
“I mean it, Lil,” she growled. “I’m not spending a minute alone with her. She hates me.”
“Fine.” I picked up my purse. “But for the record, I’m pretty sure she hates me too.”
Like my sister, my mum is hugely impressed by the finer things in life. As I climbed into the back seat of the Décaries’ luxury white SUV, I knew she’d pass comment – and it took less than three seconds.
“My, my, my,” she purred. “What a lovely vehicle, Charli. You’re a fortunate girl.”
Charli glanced up, frowning at me through the rear vision mirror. “Thank you,” she uttered. “It’s just a car.”
“It’s always nice to see a hard-knock girl land a good man and build a decent life.” Mum ran her finger along the woodgrain trim on the dash. “You really got lucky. Good for you.”
Charli wasn’t stupid. Arcing up at the monumental insult my mother had just paid her would’ve lowered the tone of the conversation even further, and she knew it. I saw her knuckles whiten as she tightened her grip on the steering wheel, but her reply was polite. “I count my blessings every day, Meredith.”
“At least you have blessings to count,” Mum ruefully replied. “I wish poor Lily could be so lucky.”
Shutting down was a defence that kicked in whenever she went on the attack. It wasn’t a new concept; I’d been putting up with it my whole life. I turned to the window, focusing on the outside view as I tried to ignore her.
Daylight had almost gone. The sea beyond the sweeping cliffs was inky and dark. It was an eerie setting, but nothing compared to the sinister feeling of being trapped within earshot of a hateful conversation.
“Dog clothes,” Mum hissed. “Can you believe it, Charli? She’s prepared to throw away a good job at the salon to make dog clothes. Where’s the security in that?”
“Plenty of small businesses are successful,” Charli defended. “Everyone has to start somewhere.”
“Some girls can’t afford to take chances like that,” she snapped. “Lily hasn’t got a brain in her head. Her options are limited.”
Humiliation bubbled in my gut, but it wasn’t painful enough for me to speak up. I nudged the back of my mother’s seat with my knee, hoping that would remind her that I was present and listening to every word.
It didn’t, and the torture continued.
“Back in my day, simple girls married young,” she rambled. “It was the only hope they had of making something of themselves. I’m not even sure that’s an option for Lily anymore.”
“Mrs Tate!” Charli snapped. “You’re speaking about your daughter.”
“I’m just telling it how it is,” she replied nonchalantly. “Lily and I have spoken about this many times, haven’t we love?” Her gentle tone belied her cruel words, but for some reason, I played along.
“Yes,” I agreed.
“Of course we have. That ship sailed long ago.”
Charli glanced at me through the mirror again, a look of sheer pity in her eyes. “Outrageous,” she sarcastically muttered. “Left on the shelf at twenty-five.”
Mum let out a long sigh. “I know, but what can I do?”
I’d never felt so relieved to see the front gates of the vineyard come into view. As soon as the car rolled to a stop, I leapt out to open them.
The air felt even thicker when I got back to the car, and the three hundred metre drive to the house played out in absolute silence.
Mum said nothing to Charli as she exited, but leaned her head through the open back window to deliver a parting shot to me. “Call your sister, Lilian,” she demanded. “Apologise and tell her you’ll be back at work on Monday.”
It had been a long time since I’d seen Charli Blake in action, but marriage and motherhood had dulled none of her chutzpah. Without saying a word, she pressed a button on the armrest of her door and wound the window up. Mum straightened up in the nick of time, which was a relief. As furious as I was, crushing her head wasn’t on my agenda.
Charli didn’t hang around, leaving her choking in a cloud of dust as she sped down the gravel driveway. Neither of us said a word until we reached the front gates, but as soon as the car pulled to a stop, Charli let loose. “That woman is freaking evil, Lily!”
“She can be,” I dully replied.
Charli twisted in her seat, pinning me in place with a concerned frown. “Are you okay?”
I shrugged. “Why wouldn’t I be? It’s nothing I haven’t heard before.”
I got out of the car and wandered over to close the gates, feeling Charli’s eyes boring a hole through the back of my head the whole time. I could only imagine what she was thinking.
At twenty-five, I was supposed to have it all together. I wasn’t meant to be trying to prove my worth to the world. By now, it should’ve been obvious, but when I turned around and glimpsed at Charli through the windscreen, her woeful expression proved that it wasn’t.
To everyone who knew me, I was poor, simple Lily Tate and my family never did anything to dispel that perception.
I turned around, focusing on the large metal sign to the left of the gate. “Tate Estate Vineyard,” I read out loud in the sourest tone I could muster.
My father was immensely proud of the b
usiness he’d built over the years. My mother was prouder of the sign. It was bold, ostentatious and self-indulgent – just like her.
In a moment of pure madness, utter contempt boiled to the surface. I picked up a piece of gravel, drew back my arm and pegged it as hard as I could. It pinged off the tin sign like a bullet but did no damage. Undeterred, I tried harder, this time using a larger rock.
Charli tumbled out of the car looking absolutely appalled. “Lily, what the hell are you doing?”
“What do you care?” My voice shook, unfairly alerting her to the fact that I was close to tears. “I don’t even know how you ended up in the middle of this. You shouldn’t even be here.”
“I do care,” she insisted. “Are you okay?”
I furiously shook my head and couldn’t seem to stop. “We’re not friends, Charli,” I reminded her. “You don’t need to pretend to be nice to me.”
“What are you talking about?” She threw her arms wide. “I’m not pretending anything, and for the record, you look like you could use a friend right now.”
Killing my manicure, I scraped up another rock. “Well, my first choice wouldn’t be you.”
“Why not?” she asked, daring to smile. “I’m freaking adorable.”
“Yeah,” I scoffed. “As adorable as a heart attack.” I threw the rock at the sign, and completely missed it. “You bullied me all through school and beyond and now you want to be friends?”
When I bent down to pick up another rock, Charli grabbed my arm. “I bullied you?” she asked incredulously. “You and your bitch sister tormented me for years.”
“That’s not the way I remember it.”
“Then you remember it wrong.”
“You used to staple me to the pinup board by my hair!” I yelled.
Her rigid posture softened as she dropped her hold on me. “I did do that,” she conceded. “But I only ever retaliated. I never started it. You did awful things to me first – and you were far more dangerous than Jasmine.”
There was a reason for that. My sister fought with words. She had no reason to get her hands dirty when I was there to do her bidding. The truly nasty pranks were usually committed by me. And years after the fact, it was still a hard truth to admit to.
“Face it,” I muttered. “We were both arseholes.”
Charli folded her arms and leaned back against the car. “For what it’s worth, I’m not that girl anymore.”
“How can you be so sure?”
She frowned. “Because I’ve worked hard to grow up and stop being an arsehole.”
“So you think people can change?”
“Yes,” she replied. “If they want to.”
“I’m trying really hard to change my ways too, Charli.” It was secret I never expected to share out loud - least of all with her. “I’m twenty-five years old, and I have no idea who I am. Pathetic, right?”
“No.” Her quiet voice was flat. “I don’t think it’s pathetic at all.”
Confiding in someone brought huge relief, even if the confidant was Charli.
“I’m better than the person people see,” I told her. “I play the dumb card because it works. Bimbo worked for a long while too, but I’m over that now.”
She dropped her head, laughing down at the ground. “Do you miss being a glittery airhead?”
“No,” I replied. “Do you miss being a juvenile delinquent?”
“Sometimes,” she admitted. “Seeing you chuck rocks at that sign makes me twitchy.”
I leaned down and picked up a rock. “Have at it,” I urged, holding it out to her. “You’re probably a better shot than me anyway.”
She shook her head, refusing to take it. “I can’t,” she replied. “I promised Adam I wouldn’t do anything illegal while I’m pregnant.”
My eyes widened. “You’re having a baby?”
“Yeah.” Even in the low light, her smile was bright. “Due at the end of June.”
“Congratulations, Charli.” I smiled. “I’m happy for you.”
“Thanks, Lil. I’m happy too.”
We were quiet for a moment, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. I used the time to gather more rocks. Charli was obviously still on the criminal track too. “If you really want to do some damage, aim for the light,” she suggested.
I looked up at the spotlight mounted on the top of the sign, weighing up my options. “Do you think I can hit it from here?”
“I could,” she boasted. “At least have a crack. If you can’t, I’ll come back in six months and do it for you.”
My technique was terrible, but by some miracle, the fourth rock I threw was a winner. The light smashed into a million pieces, raining shards of glass onto the ground. The light went out in an instant, and like the two cowardly, crooked school girls we used to be, Charli and I bolted for the car. There really wasn’t any need to flee the scene, but we did – much faster than we should’ve considering we were on a single lane gravel road.
I felt giddy with adrenalin. “That was amazing!”
Charli glanced across at me, grinning. “Welcome to the dark side, Lily Tate.”
2. New York Minute
Charli
Better than anyone, I know how deep hateful words can cut when they come from the mouth of your mother. I only endured a few months of it before cutting Olivia from my life, but I got the distinct impression that Lily had been putting up with Meredith’s abominable rants for years.
After the initial euphoria of smashing the light wore off, the drive back to the Davis’ was mostly silent, which was troubling. Lily seemed far too calm – almost unaffected by her mother’s poor treatment of her.
When I pulled into the driveway, she finally spoke. “Thanks for the ride,” she said, unclicking her seat belt. “I guess I’ll see you later.”
“Lil, if you ever want to talk or – ”
She cut me off with a harsh reminder. “Not friends, Charli,” she said, pushing open the passenger door.
“What if I want to be friends?” It was a strange question considering our history, but strange was the theme of the day.
Lily rummaged around in her bag. “Why?” she asked, finally finding her keys. “Because you feel sorry for me?”
I wasn’t sure what my reasoning was, and taking too long to think about it didn’t help my cause. Lily took my silence as a yes.
“I have enough fake people in my life, Charli,” she said sourly. “I don’t need a new fake friend.”
***
Bridget had Adam wrapped around her little finger, which meant she could talk him into almost anything. I arrived home to find that she’d somehow conned him into lighting the living room fire.
January nights are notoriously cool in southern Tasmania, but I liked to make-believe that we enjoy balmy summer evenings along with the rest of the country. Cranking up the fireplace was a no-no.
“Hello, family.” I dropped my bag down on the couch. “What’s going on?”
The tone of my greeting should’ve let them both know they were in trouble, but when they turned to face me, neither of them looked the least bit contrite.
Adam grinned. “First fire of the year.”
“But it’s roasting in here,” I complained.
I slid open the front window before joining them at the fireplace.
“It’s not that warm.” Adam pulled me in close and chastely kissed my cheek. “We’re just having a New York minute. Mom said it’s snowing there today.”
“Are you feeling homesick?” I asked.
“Why would I be?” Shifting his focus from the hypnotic flames to me, he smiled. “I am home.”
Bridget picked up a small piece of kindling. “I can make all this wood burn up.”
The proud but maniacal edge to her voice was reason alone to snuff the fire out.
“I told you, baby,” Adam took the wood from her, “you’re not to touch it.”
Bridget put both hands behind her back as if she was about to be handcuffed. “I won’t,??
? she assured him. “I’ll just look nicely at it.”
Looking nicely at it lasted much longer than I expected. She parked her butt on the rug and refused to move, even for dinner. I’d had my fill of diva antics for the day so I didn’t fight her. After enjoying a fireside picnic dinner with her heinous best mate, Treasure, we managed to get her into bed without a fuss.
***
Now that we were alone together, Adam’s summer fire turned from a novel idea to a tactical move. After tucking Bridget into bed, he returned to the living room with a glass of wine and a suggestive smile.
“Not your best work, Adam,” I teased, settling further into the couch. “Wooing the pregnant lady with booze and heatstroke.”
“The wine is for me,” he replied, setting his glass down on the coffee table. “You can just look nicely at it.”
He flopped down beside me, and I took full advantage by resting my legs across his lap. It was a relaxing end to a hectic day, but my mind was still locked on drama. “Can I ask you something?”
“Of course.”
“Will you answer honestly?”
The dimple on his cheek deepened as his smile grew broader. “As long as it doesn’t get me killed.”
“Do you think I’m a likeable person, Adam?” I asked. “To other women, I mean.”
The look that flashed across his face was a strange mix of confusion and terror. “What happens if I answer wrong?”
“There is no wrong answer,” I replied with a laugh. “I just want your opinion.”
“I don’t think you have likeability issues, Charli.” In a genius move, he rubbed my feet. “I think you have trust issues. It makes it hard for people to get to know you.”
I couldn’t refute a single word he said. Since Nicole Lawson stomped our friendship into the ground, I’d never been willing to try again.
“Lily is going through a rough time at the moment.”
I purposefully kept details at a minimum. Adam had never had much time for Lily and giving him more information than he needed seemed like a disservice to both of them. “I reached out to her today and she shot me down. My ego is a little bruised.”
“You want to be friends with Lily Tate?” The glorious foot massage came to an abrupt halt. “I didn’t see that coming.”