Selling the Drama (45 page)

What a fucking mess.

The chime of a text message sent to Toby's
phone just after midnight woke both of them with a panicked start.
It had been a long day and exhaustion had nothing on either of
them. Charlotte looked at Toby through a sleepy gaze as he read the
text. After switching off the phone, he turned to her, his own face
creased with exhaustion.

"That was Chad. Jenna had to have an
emergency caesarean. The baby was delivered just before midnight.
They're both well." He slumped back down onto his pillow, closing
his eyes immediately.

"Is it a girl or a boy?" Charlotte asked,
considering this the most important point past Jenna and the baby
being well.

"Chad didn't say. He probably forgot," Toby
mumbled.

"Forgot to tell you or forgot what he
had?"

"Charlotte," Toby cautioned. "Don't be mean.
As if he would forget what he had."

She made no reply, unable to really agree
with Toby. Chad forgot the most significant things at times. "What
if Jenna had died? Chad would never be able to look after their
child alone." She did not know why she was saying this, if it was a
reaction to Ellie's death, or a genuine concern. But as time
passed, and they all got to know Chad so much more since they were
living so close now, the realities of his existence were hard to
ignore. Chad could not be relied upon. Charlotte had tried, giving
him the responsibility of picking up Ashley from his school on
occasion when she got stuck, but his remembering was hit and miss,
so too was his remembering the way home, or which bus to catch in
order to get there and back. Secretly, Charlotte had asked these
things of him as a test, because she was not as convinced as Jenna
of Chad's reliability and had been driven by a need to prove it.
Even if it was just to herself.

"Then I guess your mum would have had to
step in and help him."

"She's going to be nearly raising that baby
anyway."

"Does that bother you?"

Charlotte thought for a moment on that. Did
it bother her? Maybe bother was not necessarily the correct term.
Concern seemed more apt. "It doesn't bother me at all that she'll
be helping them. I just worry about the entire situation."

"Let them worry about it. You need to go to
sleep." Toby rolled onto his side, his arm curling around her body
as he dragged her up against him. "I need to go to sleep and you're
talking too much."

Charlotte said nothing more, but despite her
exhaustion, sleep was now hard to come by. She lay awake for an
unending period of time, staring into the darkness, thoughts of
Ellie intermingling with those of the new baby their family had
just welcomed. Life and death; states of being that were never all
that far apart.

Iris was clearly uncomfortable, a condition
Toby was drawing a macabre sense of comfort from. He did not want
to be that person, the one that enjoyed other people's misery; nor
did he want to be the person who kept others hanging on a hook,
starving for insight into their own secrets. Yet, here he was,
being both at once.

Not only looking like his father, but now
acting like him too. Could this week get any worse?

Charlotte was cradling the new baby, a boy,
cooing and smiling. She really did love babies, and was so
perfectly suited to motherhood. Iris was sitting away from the rest
of them, trying in vain to catch his gaze, which he was keeping
right away from her. He really should not have tipped his hand last
night; he was simply too weary right now to deal with all of
this.

"So, what's his name?" Charlotte asked,
looking up at Jenna first, before moving her gaze over to Chad,
both of whom were shrugging in response to Charlotte's
question.

"Not sure yet," Jenna replied.

"We can't agree," Chad clarified.

"Oh." Charlotte nodded, a smirk playing
around her lips as she gazed back down to the baby. "Well, think
carefully. But, you need to avoid names starting with 'E'."

Toby looked at Charlotte carefully; he had
not been expecting her to divulge their news yet.

"Why can't I use 'E'?" Jenna asked
absently.

Toby almost groaned at her inability to read
between the lines, yet he found it curious that he felt affection,
rather than frustration, at the thought of how scattered she could
be. He had barely had time to register the impact of her being his
sister, but as he watched her from the corner of his eye, he
recognised within him a fierce sense of protection towards her that
he normally reserved only for his immediate family. He was unsure
how this news would affect Charlotte, she already had a deep
familial connection to Jenna; but for him, these feelings were all
new.

Chad smiled widely, a little sharper in this
moment than Jenna. "Well, what do you know. Number five, hey?" He
looked across to Toby with a wink.

"What?!" Jenna shrieked.

Iris rose to her feet, approaching
Charlotte, a look of joy on her face. "That's wonderful! I'm so
happy for you!" She glanced at Toby before adding, "Both of
you."

Charlotte beamed happily. "Thanks. It's
exciting, even though it's almost standard for us," she kidded.

Toby pushed off of the wall he had been
leaning on, crossing the room to Charlotte, surprising both her,
and himself, by lifting the baby from her arms. Looking down into
the tiny face, he smiled, studying the features, not seeing any
similarities to anyone yet. "Hey, little fella," he said softly.
"I'm your Uncle Toby." No one questioned his use of the title; his
own children called Chad and Jenna aunty and uncle, so it was
natural their child would address him in the same manner. He raised
his eyes in the direction of Iris, levelling his gaze at her,
holding it until she looked away, an expression of resignation upon
her face that spoke volumes.

"Do you want to speak at Ellie's
funeral?"

Charlotte felt her stomach contract at
Jake's question. She looked across the kitchen bench at him, sorrow
filling her. "Not really," she replied honestly, then instantly
regretting it. "I just don't think I could handle it," she
clarified, not wanting him to get the wrong idea.

He nodded though, understanding in his eyes.
"I know what you mean. I don't think I can speak either."

They faced each other silently, each lost in
the depth of their own heartbreak.

"I'm going to play that song by James Blunt,
'Goodbye My Lover'," Jake offered. "She loves James Blunt."

Charlotte noted his use of the present
tense. She swallowed deeply, wondering at which point he would
eventually start using the past tense with regard to Ellie. It
would happen, one day, out of the blue. He would open his mouth to
say something about her, a mere reflection, and that would be it.
Delivered in the past tense, heralding her departure once more. He
might, over time, even move on, meet someone new, and start all
over again. Charlotte stared at him, sorrow sweeping through her
anew at the thought of all that lay before them.

"That's a sad song," she eventually
replied.

"It's going to be a sad day."

There was an overcast atmosphere to the
morning of Ellie's funeral which progressed to torrential rain by
the time they were all standing in the cemetery watching her casket
get lowered into the ground. Soaked through, mud clinging to their
shoes and legs, their misery was magnified by the elements.

For Charlotte, it seemed entirely fitting,
and she could not help but wonder if the sun was in mourning too,
shrouding itself in a heavy grey to signify the loss of such a
bright and perfect soul.

From the research Toby had conducted, it
appeared that Royce was well and truly screwed if his second
marriage were to come to light. Given that he had acted knowingly,
that Iris was neither missing nor dead, nor hard to find in the
event he had been seeking a divorce, he would most certainly be
charged with bigamy and could face up to twelve months
imprisonment.

Toby felt no overwhelming urge to report
him. In the scheme of things, it was an insignificant crime and he
was not that zealous that he was unable turn a blind eye and just
get on with the rest of his life. The issue for him, was Charlotte
and Iris. They deserved better than this. They deserved closure. He
did not want to see Royce go to jail. But he also did not want to
look Charlotte and Iris in the eyes for the rest of his days with
this knowledge buried within him.

With a weary sigh escaping him, he picked
his phone up and dialled Iris's number.

"Hello?"

"We need to talk."

Jake was lifting grocery bags out of his car
as Charlotte pulled into his drive, parking behind him. She
unclipped both Danielle and Courtney from their car seats,
depositing them both near the front door with a gentle nudge in the
direction of inside. Then she returned to Jake's car, grabbing up
the remaining grocery bags, shutting the car boot, and heading
inside herself. She dumped them onto the kitchen bench alongside
the ones he had brought in and began to unpack them. Pulling
groceries out and folding the bags for storage, it took her a few
moments to register what she was unpacking. She stared at the
groceries laid out before her, an incomprehensible feeling of
sadness overwhelming her. Jake stood beside her, his shoulder
touching hers. Charlotte turned to face him, but he refused to meet
her gaze.

"This is not healthy," she said quietly,
gesturing to the groceries, items Ellie would have used, things
Jake had no need for at all.

"I don't care. It helps me."

"How?"

"Don't ask me that. I just need to do
it."

"She would hate this."

Jake hit his hands down onto the bench, a
hard slap that had Charlotte flinching at its force. "She would
hate not being here! She would hate that she got stabbed at work!
What the fuck does it matter what she would hate, anyway? She's
gone, and all that's left is for me to cope without her as best I
can. So don't fucking judge me, Charlotte. Just leave me alone." He
turned and left the kitchen, heading up the hall towards his
bedroom, the door slamming moments later.

Charlotte began to put the groceries into
the cupboard and the fridge, saving the toiletries until the end,
where she scooped them all up and headed to the bathroom so she
could put them all away. She paused on the way back up the hall,
looking through the doorway of Jake's study. Tentatively entering
the room, she stared at the wall in front of her, feeling as though
she was standing in a police investigation office. Fumbling in her
pocket for her phone, she pulled it out with a shaking hand,
holding it up in front her so she could take a picture for Toby. He
needed to know about this.

His chambers were the only place he could
have this conversation in complete privacy. Iris looked around the
space as she entered, taking it all in wordlessly. Toby gestured to
one of the chairs on the other side of his desk, sitting himself
down beside her instead of placing the desk between them. As much
as she infuriated him, he loved her, and he did not want to make
this any harder than it needed to be.

She assessed him curiously. "What's this all
about? Does it have anything to do with your little bombshell over
the phone a couple of weeks ago?"

They had barely seen each other since then,
an entirely deliberate move on his part. "Sort of," he replied,
evasively, taking a deep breath as he attempted to sort his
scrambled thoughts. How to go about this? Toby put his hand to his
forehead, squeezing gently, the tension building. He could hear his
clock ticking on the wall behind him, a menacing countdown to this
pivotal moment.

"What's wrong?" Iris's voice was gentler
now, as was her hand as she rested it onto his shoulder.

He looked at her, releasing the breath he
had been holding. "I found Royce."

Her face changed, rapidly, running a gamut
of emotions. Her hand fell away from his shoulder to land
listlessly onto her lap. She paled significantly. "When?" A whisper
only, as though any more volume would be just too much of an
effort.

"Not very long ago. When I went to Mount Isa
for work. That's where he is. I saw him, while I was out having
dinner."

Iris looked stunned. "Did you speak to
him?"

Toby nodded.

"What did he say?"

"Not much. I met up with him in private the
next day."

Iris stared at him, seeming to want so much
more. She wanted tales of regret, pleas for forgiveness; Toby knew
this by the eager look on her face, but she was going to be greatly
disappointed. He wished more than anything else that he could give
that to her, she deserved it, she really did. "Iris," he began, his
voice shaking with the force of his emotion. "He has married
another woman. He has two small children; twin boys."

Iris stared at him, her eyes wide, her head
now shaking from side to side. She opened her mouth, but no sound
came out. Toby waited for her to say something, anything, but she
never did. She simply fell out of her seat in a dead faint,
slipping to the floor with a thud.

Charlotte knocked on the bedroom door
softly, waiting for a reply that never came. Speaking through the
door, she addressed Jake. "I'm going now. I put that chicken you
bought into the oven for your dinner and made you a salad."

He opened the door, his face a ravaged mess
of tears and pain. Charlotte wrapped her arms around him as he
collapsed against her, sobs exploding out of him. She stroked his
hair and let him cry, squeezing her eyes shut against her own
threatening tears.

Iris opened her eyes, her gaze connecting
with Toby's. Cradling her head with one hand, he guided her upright
with the other. He watched her carefully. "How do you feel? You
want some water?"