Those Other Women Read online

  Sometimes I think that’s what my body needs.

  To be shaken so intensely that eventually, all I can do is let go.

  Poppy snapped the notebook shut. She’d read too much. Way more than she’d intended. She was breathing hard and a tear slipped down her cheek. Poppy had taken a look behind a curtain that wasn’t hers to lift. She shouldn’t have opened it. She should have given it straight back. She needed to talk to Annalise, ask her directly for the truth about her past, not find out about it this way. But at least she knew now that she was right about Annalise lying. She replayed the words in her mind: Even if, technically speaking, I’m betraying her – every day I betray her. But I don’t mean to.

  She put the book under her pillow and decided to find a way to slip it back into Annalise’s bag without her ever knowing it had been missing.

  Kellie – How’s everyone going with the whole NOP/MOP battle? Any more fall-out from private posts being spilled to the public? Or do we think the mole has slunk off now? I’ve noticed people don’t seem to be sharing so much personal goss on here lately. Hope we can get back to normal soon. I’m kind of missing my daily NOP fix.

  Nicole – I get the feeling that whoever she is, she’s still here. Don’t ask me why, maybe my Spidey Sense is tingling!

  Viv – I miss the way it used to be too. Did you guys notice that Catriona is gone? When this all first blew up, she posted to say she was screwed cause her sister saw one of her posts. She must have decided to quit the group. Such a shame this is happening.

  CHAPTER 18

  The following morning, Poppy waited by her car for Paul to come and meet her. They were supposed to be heading out to the shops to take a look at fidget spinners – the latest craze that had swept across the country in such a sudden wave that even Poppy hadn’t seen it coming. Sometimes that happened; sometimes the most unexpected thing took off and there was no rhyme or reason to it and no way you could have predicted its instant popularity. They wanted to see how many different places were stocking them, have a chat to a few vendors about how well they were selling, and figure out whether it was too late to jump on the bandwagon and ride the final waves.

  While she waited, a text came through from her mother.

  It’s almost the end of May and we haven’t done our FAMILY DINNER yet this month. What night is good for you, darling?

  Poppy typed back a short reply: I’m going to have to skip this month. Too much on at work. Sorry.

  The truth was, she didn’t want to see Therese now that she knew Annalise was hiding things from her; she didn’t like the idea that her mother might have been right all along. Earlier, Poppy had slipped down to the warehouse and shoved the notebook in Annalise’s bag while she was distracted with a delivery. The desire to read more when she’d woken that morning had almost overpowered her. But to read those pages was a violation and she couldn’t do it. She would find a way to get Annalise to talk instead. She’d figure out what had happened to her friend to cause her so much pain and she would help her through it. And at the same time, she would find out how exactly it was that Annalise was betraying her. She just didn’t know how she was going to do any of that yet.

  Now, as Poppy began to think Paul had forgotten all about her and she was considering heading inside to knock on his office door, she looked up to see Frankie walking towards her. Poppy frowned. ‘Where’s Paul?’ she asked.

  ‘He told me to tell you he can’t make it. Last-minute conference call with some overseas manufacturers.’

  ‘Which overseas manufacturers?’

  ‘Not sure,’ Frankie said. ‘But he’s asked me to come with you in his place.’

  ‘It’s fine,’ said Poppy. ‘I can check it out on my own.’

  ‘Yeah, well, he wants me to come with you. I might actually be useful, you know? I’ve seen the fidget spinner craze go absolutely mental at my kids’ school. Both my kids have one.’

  Poppy headed round to the driver’s side while Frankie hopped into the passenger seat. They were both silent on the drive. Every now and then Poppy sensed that Frankie was about to strike up a conversation – she kept hearing the intake of breath, as though she was steeling herself to speak, seeing her shoulders lift out of the corner of her eye. But each time nothing would follow. After a while Poppy started to wonder if it was actually some sort of nervous tic.

  At the shops they strode through the centre, stopping at different outlets and temporary stands. They took it in turns quizzing the shop owners or attendants, passing their questions off as those of interested customers.

  ‘My daughter wants one of the rainbow ones. Do you get those in often? Do they sell out quickly?’

  ‘Do you find the light-up ones are very popular? I’m trying to decide which one is best for a gift.’

  One stallholder proudly told them that he ordered in five hundred a day and was sold out by 4 pm every afternoon. The things were everywhere: tobacconists, newsagents, supermarkets, gadget shops and department stores.

  Between shops, Poppy and Frankie only spoke briefly to exchange thoughts on where they should head next or how they were faring on their mission. Often Frankie would try to extend the conversation, but Poppy always shut her down with a one-word response. She wasn’t interested in friendly chit-chat with someone who was having an affair. Hopefully it had ended. There had never been any reply from Linda so Poppy didn’t know for sure.

  After a good hour of research, Poppy concluded they were too late – the market was already flooded. Even with their quickest business set-up they’d be coming to the party at the tail end. She doubted it would be worth their while. Better to try to predict the next toy craze for when this one burned out.

  Her feet were hurting and she noticed Frankie waning next to her as they walked through the centre. ‘Ready to call it?’ Poppy asked.

  ‘Probably a good idea,’ said Frankie.

  Poppy felt her phone buzz in her pocket and she slowed down to pull it out. The message was from a number she didn’t recognise.

  So . . . on for dinner Saturday? was all it said.

  She felt an instant warmth wash over her. She hadn’t meant to play hard to get with Jack when she’d told him she’d think about dinner, she just wasn’t sure if it was what she wanted. There was definitely chemistry between them. He was attractive, he was friendly and he was easy to talk to. But her heartbreak at Garret’s betrayal still felt fresh. It was coming up to six months now. At what point would it stop hurting? She looked back up, considering what she would reply, and the air seemed to vanish from her lungs.

  Garret and Karleen. They were walking through the centre directly towards her, pushing a pram in front of them. Poppy froze. Frankie took one or two paces before realising she was no longer beside her and turned back to see why she’d stopped.

  Poppy’s face must have given her away because Frankie’s voice was slightly alarmed as she asked, ‘What’s up?’

  ‘No-nothing,’ Poppy stammered. She shoved her phone in her pocket and looked around, frantically searching for somewhere she could escape. They hadn’t spotted her yet and she wanted to keep it that way. ‘We haven’t checked in here,’ she said, waving her hand at the shop to their left.

  ‘It’s a shoe store,’ Frankie said. ‘They won’t sell fidget spinners.’

  Poppy ignored her and pushed past another shopper to make a dash inside. But then she heard a voice: ‘Poppy!’

  Frankie caught her arm. ‘Hang on,’ she said. ‘Someone’s calling you.’

  How dare they? How fucking dare they call out to me like we’re still good friends? Surely they’d want to pass her by and pretend she didn’t exist just the same as she did? Not Karleen. She obviously still thought they could reconcile. She was steamrolling towards Poppy while Garret trailed behind. At least he had the decency to look uncomfortable.

  ‘Oh, Poppy, I’m so glad to run into you,’ said Karleen as she reached them. ‘I almost didn’t recognise you – your hair is just so . . . different! But l
isten, I really feel like this is fate.’

  Fate? Fate! Was she insane? This wasn’t fate! This was a nightmare. So far, Poppy’s mouth had remained snapped shut. She couldn’t trust herself not to explode in a string of expletives. But it was getting weird – Frankie looking curiously between the two of them; Karleen waiting for her to respond; Garret shuffling his feet like a schoolboy who’d been caught chewing gum.

  Poppy opened her mouth to say . . . something . . . anything, but Frankie spoke over the top of her.

  ‘Cute boy,’ she said. ‘What’s his name?’

  Karleen did a double-take. The baby in the pram was covered in a pink blanket. She had one of those flower headbands on her bald head. She was wearing a pink cardigan. No one could have mistaken her for a boy.

  ‘She’s a girl,’ Karleen said, a look of pure annoyance on her face.

  ‘Oh my God! Sorry!’ said Frankie. ‘I didn’t realise! Boy, you really have to pink this one up to stop people getting confused, don’t you? Don’t worry, I’m sure it will get easier when she grows some hair.’

  Karleen was clearly lost for words. She turned to Garret as though expecting him to step in and say something, stand up for their daughter, but he was still refusing to look up.

  ‘Well,’ said Frankie, ‘so nice to meet you but we have to get back to work. Big cocktail function this evening at Darling Harbour, special guest, can’t say who but . . .’ She leaned in and whispered, ‘Adele’s in town, you know?’ She winked at Karleen. ‘No rest for the wicked!’

  She sidestepped around the pram and Poppy followed her, starkly aware of the fact she hadn’t said a single word throughout the entire exchange. As they passed, Garret finally lifted his head. I’m sorry. He mouthed at her, then he added in a whisper, ‘Your hair looks fantastic.’

  They were almost back to the car when Poppy finally spoke up. ‘Frankie,’ she said, ‘what was that?’

  Frankie grimaced. ‘Did I take it too far?’ she said.

  ‘Are you kidding me? That was amazing. How did you know?’

  ‘It’s probably not what you want to hear, but you know how people gossip in the office. I heard about what happened with your ex and, well . . . the way you reacted when you saw them, I figured that had to be them.’ She paused. ‘That was them, right? Your ex and his new partner . . . your old friend?’

  ‘Yes, that was them. Her office is near here. They must have come into the city to show off the baby to her work mates. Ugh, I can’t believe how good she looked.’

  ‘You thought she looked good? You’re kidding, right? Her makeup was caked on a mile thick to try and hide the massive bags under her eyes. She looked awful.’

  ‘Really? I can’t believe you came up with the whole Adele cocktail-party thing!’

  ‘I know what it’s like when you have a new baby. You’re all wrapped up in yourself and you think you’re so special, but I thought they needed to be reminded that other people are still out in the world having an awesome time. You think they bought it?’

  ‘Karleen is a massive Adele fan and I saw the jealousy on her face. They totally bought it.’

  ‘Good!’ Frankie sighed with relief. ‘I know we don’t know each other well. But I really hate cheaters and I kind of thought they deserved everything I gave them and more.’

  At the mention of the word cheater Poppy was snapped back to reality. She stopped grinning at Frankie and hopped into the car. But as they drove back to the office a thought occurred to her. What if Annalise had been wrong about Paul and Frankie from the beginning? Would someone who was having an affair really have the gall to come right out and say they hated cheaters? She wished she could talk to Annalise about it. In fact, she’d love to tell her the whole story of how Frankie had handled Karleen and Garret. But first she needed to sort out everything else with Annalise. And that was going to take time.

  Later that afternoon, an invitation came through to the admin account of NOP from a local women’s shelter. The shelter was running out of funds and as NOP was a group of local women, they thought they might be interested in booking a few tables at a fundraising event they were holding on a cruise in the harbour in June. Poppy wasn’t sure that the members of NOP would really be up for a big night out, considering recent events. She’d stayed off NOP for the last several days. Since the horrible incident with Wendy, NOP wasn’t giving her the same comfort it once had. Notifications were piling up: messages from members wanting to know if the mole had been found, and stories about continued altercations with MOP members. But Poppy hadn’t been able to bring herself to deal with any of it. Besides, the members of NOP were all grown women; they could handle themselves. But she thought she should at least pass the invitation on – after all, it was a good cause.

  The response surprised her. Members put their hands up for spots right away that evening and Poppy realised she was going to have to attend herself. It would be odd if the founder of the group didn’t show up. She hoped she and Annalise would have everything sorted by then; it would be nice if they could attend together.

  She forgot all about the message from Jack until much later that night as she was climbing into bed. And when she did remember, she saw an image in her mind. An image of Jack walking towards her through a shopping centre one day, pushing a stroller in front of him. A different woman by his side.

  So how was she going to respond to his message? With a yes or with a no?

  THE IMPOSTER

  She knew she should cancel her account and get out. They were on the warpath looking for fake members. Any day they might check out her account, sift through the posts, realise her timeline didn’t actually go back that far, that it was pretty bare. Notice she didn’t have many people on her friends list. All the red flags that would tell them it was a fake account under a fake name.

  But then again, with several hundred members, what were the chances they’d choose to look into her? Plus, things were careering out of control and she was sort of loving it. She was revelling in the chaos she’d created. It felt good, after so long hiding her true self from the world, after so long playing the part of the perfect mum, to instead simply cause destruction and mayhem. She was stealing private posts from NOP and secretly passing them on to other MOP members. She even contributed fabricated stories about altercations between the women of NOP and MOP, to make it appear as though the situation was way worse than it was. Screw them, screw the lot of them. They’d brought it all on themselves.

  PART FOUR

  Annalise

  CHAPTER 19

  Yet another Tuesday night was ruined. And this time she didn’t even make it out of her apartment door with the soccer ball. She was about to step into the hall when the door opposite hers was flung open and her neighbour – what was that woman’s name again? Sydney? Cynthia? Something along those lines – practically launched herself at Annalise. She was dressed in some sort of uniform – white shirt with pinstripes and a leaf-shaped logo on the front that Annalise didn’t recognise.

  ‘Oh thank God,’ she said, ‘I was hoping you’d be home. Listen, I know we don’t know each other well but I need to ask you a favour. A huge favour. Hugest. It’s asking a lot and you’re probably going to think I’m a terrible mother but I have no other choice.’

  Annalise stared back at her. Is she going to get to the point any time soon?

  ‘I’ll owe you,’ she continued, ‘big time. And I’ll pay you, of course.’

  ‘Cynthia,’ Annalise said, taking a stab at her name, ‘what are you on about?’

  ‘Oh sorry,’ she said, ‘I haven’t asked yet, have I? Can you babysit for me?’

  She must have seen the look of horror on Annalise’s face.

  ‘I know!’ she said, ‘I know, I know, and I would never ask but my sitter cancelled on me last minute, and I’ve tried everyone else I can possibly think of and no one’s answering my SOS messages or returning my calls, and the problem is, my boss told me if I call in sick one more time that’s it, I’m done. Annali
se,’ she pleaded, ‘I need this job.’

  Annalise had to admit she felt bad for her, she honestly did, but a close friend would have trouble convincing her to babysit for them, let alone a virtual stranger. Although at least she knew her name.

  She was starting to shake her head, ready to throw her hands up and tell her it wasn’t her problem, and besides, she had plans for the night. She needed this time to herself out in the crisp night air, pounding the ball as hard as she could, processing everything that was going on at the moment – her argument with Poppy, the online war that was showing no signs of waning. But then a tiny figure appeared behind the neighbour’s legs and peered around at Annalise. Big oval eyes looked up at her from under a too-long fringe.

  Annalise was picking up on something in her expression. What was it? Was it hope? Was she hoping she was going to say yes? Or was Annalise imagining it? It could be she was hoping she’d say no. Could be she just wanted her mama to stay home with her.

  Either way, Annalise didn’t get the chance to answer. Because next thing, her neighbour was grabbing her handbag off a shelf inside the doorway and slinging it across her body, all the while babbling about how thankful she was and how she would make it up to her, and she was leaving!

  ‘Wait, Cynthia! I haven’t even —’

  ‘It’s Beth, by the way,’ she said, ‘not Cynthia. And this little cutie patootie here is Harmony. I’ll be back by eleven and everything you need is on the kitchen counter. Thank you, thank you so much. You’re a lifesaver.’

  And with that she kissed Harmony on the top of her head, whispered, ‘Mummy loves you,’ jabbed at the lift button, stepped inside the elevator and was gone.

  Annalise stood still, sort of shell-shocked. But, she thought, but I can’t do this for you. And it’s not just because I don’t know what I’m doing with kids.