‘My parents are doing their best to make things work,’ he said. ‘You always told me that your sister liked attention and was as selfish as they come.’
‘She’s still my sister.’
‘I can’t believe you feel sorry for her now.’
And she couldn’t believe he was defending his father. He wasn’t wrong about Steph, or about her feelings towards her sister, but hearing him place all the blame at Steph’s feet hit her hard. ‘No matter Steph’s part in all of this, your dad is the one who’s married, older, and in the public eye.’
‘What’s that supposed to mean? Are you trying to imply he pressured her?’
‘No, I wasn’t saying that.’ She suspected Steph would’ve been in control all the way. She and her sister might look the same but their personalities couldn’t be more different. ‘All I’m saying is that she doesn’t have a voice with the press; your dad does.’
‘He’s not spinning the story. All he’s said publicly is that he regrets what he’s done to his family.’
She tried to land on something neutral for them both. ‘Do you know how they even got together?’
‘No, but I’m guessing she went after him.’
‘Because that’s always the answer, isn’t it,’ she snapped. ‘The woman’s fault. The low-cut dress, the short skirt, the?—’
‘Stop it, Faye.’ Irritated, he asked, ‘Have you seen her?’
‘No. And I don’t want to.’
‘My dad is sorry, you know. For what he’s done. He hates that he has hurt those he loves.’
Faye couldn’t bring herself to have any respect for the man. And with him saying his piece on the nightly news and current affairs programs and Steph staying quiet, Steph was just the other woman and the one in the wrong. She was condemned for her part and what was he? Lauded for standing together with his family? It was so wrong. No matter her clashes with Steph, her sister didn’t deserve for this man to not show any remorse at the repercussions for her. By the sounds of it, Brad’s father was only sorry for the effect his affair had on him and his life, and Faye had no doubt that a part of that was the regret at having been found out.
‘My sister was supposed to be our bridesmaid,’ she said in a small voice, her thoughts on her own life for a moment. Her dad would give her away. He’d said he’d fly back for the wedding. It was supposed to be their big day, the start of her life with Brad.
‘When are you coming back?’ she asked him when he said nothing in response to her comment about her sister.
He dragged a hand down his weary face and she knew there was something going on even before he confessed, ‘I’ve had a job offer. Here. In Tasmania.’
She sat upright and rather than her legs tucked beneath her they were fixed at a right angle. ‘What are you talking about?’
‘A week ago, I met with a recruiter. He mentioned a company who might be interested. I spoke to them, and it turns out they’re offering a really good package.’
‘Wait a minute,’ she stammered. Was she shaking? Could he tell? ‘You met with him a week ago?’ The truth set in like an enormous rock pinning her down. ‘You’ve been planning this?’
‘I can’t do it, Faye. I can’t be a part of the fucking nightmare over there.’
‘But you are a part of it! I’m a part of it. You can’t just run away.’ She shook her head, stood up, paced. ‘I don’t want to live in Tasmania.’
It took her a moment to realise that he didn’t respond to her plea and a moment more to deduce that with his lack of response he’d told her everything else she needed to know.
A tear spilled traitorously onto her cheek. ‘We’re not getting married, are we?’
She’d expected Brad to call her back the second she hung up, or at least send a message, but nothing. He’d sent a text a few hours later, assuring her that he would cancel the wedding arrangements. She hadn’t responded.
Who ended a relationship like that? Who ran away and left their fiancée to deal with an absolute shitstorm? What sort of man was he?
Not one she knew as well as she’d thought. That much was evident. And perhaps the truth had always been there, she’d just been swept up in the excitement of it all, a future, the family they might have.
That evening she’d removed the ring from the fourth finger of her left hand, the ring she’d watched catch the light the day he slid it on there and asked her to be his wife.
Now, with her laptop stowed in her rucksack, she left the ocean behind. She left the safe haven of the lookout point and the Midnight Book Club for another week, and with a baseball cap pulled down over her ponytail, she kept her head down with no desire to be recognised at all.
Her sister had fallen into bed with a married politician and along the way they’d used taxpayer money to fund their dalliance – flights, hotels, fancy dinners, a spa escape.
