Selling the Drama (43 page)

Once the plane touched down, he disembarked
first and was able to leave the terminal immediately, having
carried his luggage on board with him. After locating his car in
the secured car park, Toby sank down into the driver's seat and
just sat there, staring out the front windscreen, wondering what
the hell he was supposed to do now.

All of the children were asleep by eight, as
they often were when Toby was not home in the evening. His presence
hyped them up and they were always so much harder to get to bed
when he was around. Charlotte potted about in the quiet kitchen,
tidying up, wiping down benches, packing lunch boxes for the next
day, all with a close watch on the clock, silently counting down
the minutes until Toby was expected to arrive home. She had missed
him while he was away; he did not go out of town often enough for
her to be used to his absence. Also, living alone as a family meant
he was her only adult company now. There was no wandering into her
mother's room for a chat or passing the time at the table with
Jenna, chatting over cups of tea and biscuits. Sometimes she missed
that, but for the most part, all the benefits of having their own
place more than made up for that loss.

She heard the garage door open, closing
again moments later, feeling like a love-struck teenager at the way
her heart accelerated with the knowledge Toby was now home. She
raced to the hall, meeting him in the entryway. He looked
completely washed out and deflated, his limp more pronounced than
usual.

"Hi. Are you alright?" she greeted him
cautiously, worried by his appearance.

He nodded, his face creasing in pain as he
took a step towards her. "My leg just hurts. I need to get it off."
Still, despite his discomfort, he pulled her against him, hugging
her hard.

Charlotte returned the embrace, putting her
arm around him as they walked through to the lounge, forcing him to
lean on her. She steered him to the couch, watching wordlessly as
he dropped down, pulling up his pants leg immediately so he could
release the prosthetic limb from his own leg. He sighed with relief
as he removed it, collapsing back into the couch with his eyes
closed. He rarely took it off like this, preferring to keep it on
until bed, never letting anyone, even her, see him without it. His
removal of it now was clear testimony to just how greatly it must
have been bothering him.

"Can I get you anything? Are you
hungry?"

He opened his eyes and looked at her with a
weary expression. "A bit. But I'll get something after. Just sit
with me for a while." He patted the couch beside him, smiling as
she fell into it. "They're all asleep?"

Charlotte nodded, sitting sideways so she
could face him. "Sure are. How was the trip?"

Toby's faced distorted for a moment and he
shook his head. "I'd rather not talk about that right now," he
muttered.

"Okay. I have something we can talk about,"
she offered with a smile.

His eyes lit up with interest. "Does this
conversation include being naked?"

She pretended to think for a moment, teasing
him. "Well, I suppose, if you really think about it, yes. There was
nakedness involved at some point."

"Keep talking. Although, I did just note you
used 'was', as opposed to the much more preferable, 'is'."

"I'm pregnant." She watched him, unsure on
what his reaction might be. He was supposed to have had a vasectomy
by now, but the accident, and his usual busy schedule, had
prevented it. He said nothing, just stared at her for a couple of
long moments before tipping his head back and laughing. She smiled
at that, knowing instinctively where he was coming from. "I know. I
kind of had the same reaction."

He leaned over, pulling her into his arms,
still laughing as he hugged her. "Of course you are," he said. "How
is that possible?"

"I was very sketchy with feeding Danielle
for a while back there." She shrugged then. "You know me and how
fertile I am."

"It could be me," he countered.

"It's not a competition," she replied,
giving him a light shove.

He kissed her once more. "It's totally a
competition."

"Whatever." She sat back, looking at him
carefully. "Are you upset?"

"Do I look upset?"

"You could be hiding it well."

He shook his head at that. "No, I'm not
upset. It's fine. I am having a vasectomy next week mind, but it's
fine. I'm happy; we've got this."

Charlotte laughed then, reaching over to run
her hand through his hair. "Yes, we have."

"Are you happy about another baby? It'll be
different, just us, not having your mother to fall back on. You
have the gym now too; a lot has changed since Danielle was
born."

"I know. But I think that after four babies,
we'll be right with a fifth. I'm pretty certain both of us have it
covered by now." She grinned at him. "Could be a boy."

Toby raised his eyebrows at that suggestion.
"Could be. I did it once; it is possible." He curled his hand
around her neck, stroking the skin at the base of her skull before
threading his fingers up into her hair. "You didn't answer me
though. Are you happy?"

Charlotte nodded. "I am happy. I hadn't
thought about having another baby, once we made that decision, but
now that it's happened, yeah, I'm happy. I would always be happy to
have another baby with you." And that was the truth of it.
Charlotte loved being pregnant; she had never suffered overly much
during any of her pregnancies. But what gave her the most
satisfaction was that the life inside of her, developing into
another child, was a product of them. Their love and commitment to
each other. It was a bond like no other.

Nodding, Toby shifted in his seat, wincing
as he moved, his leg still clearly giving him grief.

"Your leg is still causing you pain?"

"Don't worry about it," was his reply, which
Charlotte now knew as code for, 'yes, but what can you do?' And the
answer to that was, not much. She decided the best course of action
for taking his mind off the pain was distraction; it worked a treat
every time, and given that he had been away for five days, she was
not anticipating any hesitation on his part.

Toby woke at two in the morning, but not
from the pain in his leg. Although, now that consciousness had
surfaced, so had an awareness of the discomfort that came from
overdoing it, wearing the prosthesis in cramped conditions well
past the time his own leg had begun it's protest against it. No,
what woke him, was the crushing weight of knowledge. Lying beside
Charlotte, who was sleeping deeply; he knew where her father was
but he did not have the balls to tell her. If he could live with
himself, he would like nothing more than to forget he had even seen
Royce. But he knew that was not possible. For so many reasons.
After lying awake for nearly an hour, Toby eased himself out of the
bed, using his crutch to navigate his way out of the bedroom and
through to the kitchen. It was so much easier living in a house
with no stairs. He could get around in the dark, hobbling along
with one crutch wedged under his left arm, no obstacles to contend
with, and no extra people to run into. Jenna was a great one for
night stalking, wandering around at all hours, wanting to chat if
you put so much as a toe into the kitchen, no matter what the
hour.

Jenna was the one giving him the most grief
right now. There was no hearts and rainbow daddy for her in this
story. She was better off thinking her grandparents had been her
parents; far better off. Who would ever be happy to learn that
their real father was a murderer; a wife beater before that? Talk
about a come down. And she was pregnant too. She really did not
need this shit, she had enough to worry about with a baby on the
way, less than a month from being born, not to mention having Chad
to always watch out for. A bombshell was definitely not what she
needed in her life right now.

Yet, she was his sister.

And Charlotte's.

Which was a whole different scenario
again.

Standing at the sink, drinking down a glass
of water, Toby pressed his forehead with his fingertips. Every time
he thought about any of this, his head would start to ache, further
compounding his anxiety over the entire situation.

Placing the glass quietly into the sink,
Toby grabbed the cordless handset and took it with him over to the
sliding doors, slipping out to the patio and sinking down into one
of the loungers. He hit Jake's number on speed dial, listening to
the rings, counting them down, knowing if it got to fifteen…Jake
picked up just before it was set to go to the message service.

"Hey! What's wrong?" he greeted Toby through
the phone.

"Why does something have to be wrong?" Toby
replied, grinning even though he knew Jake was unable to see
him.

"It's quarter past three in the morning.
Just called me for a chat, did you?"

"Yeah. I've been away and I missed you. So
much," Toby drawled. "The minutes are like hours when you and I are
apart."

"Yeah, yeah. Fuck off. I'm busy. I'm at
work."

"I know that arsehole. I wouldn't have rung
you now if I thought you were asleep at home. What took you so long
to answer? Long line at McDonalds?"

"No. I was booking someone. Now I'm heading
to McDonalds." Jake laughed down the phone line. "Want me to bring
you something around?"

"No. I hate that shit."

"I love it. So what's up?"

"I found Royce."

There was nothing but silence on the other
end of the phone. Toby waited a few moments before checking to see
they were still connected. "You there?"

"Yeah."

"And?"

More silence. Along with a growing sense of
unease within Toby. When Jake made no reply, he knew, without
having to be told. He knew what he should have known all along.
Because Royce had not been all that far away, and because Jake was
far too good at his job to have missed what was essentially right
under his nose. "When did you find him?" Toby asked, an edge
creeping into his voice.

"After your accident. I looked again. I
looked harder, thinking you were done for."

"You speak to him?"

"No. Just located him."

"You find out anything about him?"

There was a long pause, and then,
"Some."

"What?"

"Basic details. Address, work."

Toby exhaled with frustration. "Jake, he's
gone and-"

"Toby, don't say anything more. I'm on
duty." Jake's voice was firm down the line.

"Okay. Sure." He left it at that, totally
understanding where Jake was coming from. And he only knew the half
of it. Anyway, now was not the time to get into it. "I'll let you
go get that McDonalds then," Toby said, an attempt at lightening
the mood that did nothing more than fall flat.

"Thanks. But I'm not all that hungry
anymore." Jake sighed wearily before speaking again. "You know,
sometimes, we need to separate our professional self from our
personal self."

"And sometimes, people just need to stop
breaking the fucking law, so that people like us don't need to sit
around in the middle of the night talking in code about shit they
don't want to know." He hung up then, tossing the phone onto the
seat beside him, laying back to close his eyes, the balmy early
morning twilight air washing over him, lulling him into a state of
near contentment, despite his inner turmoil. He was no closer now
to knowing what to do than he had been before talking to Jake. He
needed to do some research. Familiarise himself with the crime of
bigamy. Get everything straight in his own head before he even
considered making his next move.

The last time Jake had knocked on her front
door in uniform, Charlotte's world had tipped on its axis. This
time though, it was another police officer standing on the
threshold, which unbalanced Charlotte even more. Toby and all of
the children were at home with her, which left one other person:
her mother. As the panic set in, she listened to the young officer
introduce himself politely, explaining that he was here on behalf
of Jake.

"Why? Where is Jake?" The panic shifted.
What had happened to Jake? Ellie would be a wreck. Had he been
injured in the line of duty? Become one of those statistics they
read about and mourned, fallen officers, dying while on the job?
Charlotte felt her heart speed up. She needed to get to Ellie. Her
parents no longer lived close by; Charlotte was the only person she
would have to lean on. Maybe they could try and get her to move in
with them for a while. All of these thoughts tumbled through
Charlotte's head as she stared at the police officer before her,
watching his lips move, yet not really hearing him, until something
he said caught her attention.

"I'm sorry, but what did you just say?" She
gripped the door harder, a certain feeling of unreality taking her
over. She swayed on her feet and the police officer reached out,
taking hold of her elbow to steady her.

"I'm so sorry. His wife died this morning.
He's at the hospital and…I didn't know who else to come and get…he
really needs someone close to him right now…" his voice faded away,
his distress evident within his tone. "Is Toby here?"

Charlotte looked up into his face, yet she
was no longer seeing it. All she could see was Ellie, holding
Danielle, less than twenty four hours ago, talking to her, and
breathing in the same air as her, arguing with her, yet still
loving her more than any other friend she had ever known. Would you
not feel it when somebody so important to you left your life? Would
you not know, the very minute it happened? It seemed so wrong, that
you could be eating your breakfast and reading the paper while your
best friend died and her husband fell apart from the grief.
Charlotte pulled herself away from the police officer, backing up
into the entry foyer so she could slip down onto the floor, the
weight of her own body suddenly far too much for her to hold up.
She curled up into herself, burying her face into her hands, hiding
from the world, the truth, the emptiness that would surely be a
solid part of her from now on. All she could think of as she
started to weep, was that Jake, so funny and solid and always such
a rock for everyone around him; he was alone now, and for all the
pain she was feeling about this for herself, it would be infinitely
worse for him, and for that reason alone, she rose to her feet,
calling out to Toby.