traffic and pound on Emily’s window. Mercifully, the lights
changed seconds later and Charlotte sped off. Lost for words, she threw
repeated glances towards her sister, who was hunched forward, clutching her
stomach and rocking slightly.
Emily’s mobile
began to ring. She dug it out of her handbag and turned it off. A minute later,
Charlotte’s began to ring, and Emily did the same again.
‘Oh my God,
Charlotte,’ she groaned. ‘Did I really just see that?’
Charlotte said
nothing, still searching for the right thing to say.
‘Can we go to your
place?’ Emily murmured.
‘We are, honey. Are
you okay?' It was a ridiculous question; born of futility.
‘No. It fucking
hurts,’ Emily growled.
Charlotte parked
Ben’s car down a side street near her building.
Once inside the
sanctum of her sister’s flat, Emily’s tears began to flow. Charlotte led her to
the couch.
‘Oh God, oh God,
oh God,’ Emily despaired as she rocked in Charlotte’s arms. ‘I can’t believe
how much this hurts. How could he do this to me?’
‘I have absolutely
no fucking idea, Em.’
How could this
happen? Emily and Geoff were high school sweethearts who only had eyes for each
other from the age of sixteen. Geoff adored Emily. Sure, when they were younger
Charlotte had wondered if his corporate career would clash with Emily’s
slightly bohemian lifestyle. But after nearly ten years together they'd withstood
the test of time, and she'd long since given up doubting. She might have
thought their differences had finally driven them apart, but the woman they’d
caught in his arms was Cassette, who was even more bohemian than Emily. What
the hell was going on? On the surface, it seemed Cassette’s maliciousness had
reached new, unforeseen, and unbelievable lows.
After some time
smoothing down her hair and shushing her, Charlotte let Emily go in order to make
some chicken noodle soup, a family staple for all kinds of crises.
She brought it
back to Emily and waved it under her sniffling nose. ‘Here honey, you need to
eat.’
‘I’m not hungry.’
‘Of course you’re
not, but you have to eat okay? We were on our way to lunch, remember?’
Emily took the
soup and looked into the bowl as though it was a crystal ball.
‘Eat,’ Charlotte
commanded, standing over her.
Before she could,
the front door was assaulted. Emily jumped, scalding her legs as the soup
sloshed out of the bowl.
‘Charlotte!’ Geoff
bellowed. ‘I know you’re in there! I want to see my wife!' And then changing
his tone dramatically, ‘Emily honey, Emily? I can explain. Please talk to me,
babe. She means nothing to me,’ he pleaded.
Charlotte groaned.
‘Is that some kind of script they’re all given at fourteen? Can he be any more
of a cliché?’
‘Can you make him
go away?' Emily’s voice was small.
‘Of course I can. You
go into the bedroom and lock the door. Take the soup with you.’
Once Emily was
safely out of sight, Charlotte opened the door but kept the chain on. Geoff
looked hysterical, sweating and dishevelled, like he’d run all the way there. ‘Let
me in, Charlotte!’ he demanded. ‘Where is she?’
‘I will let you in,
Geoffrey, but only to stop you making a scene on my doorstep. But I will not
let you in until you lower your voice and change your tone. Need I remind you
that you're the one who has fucked up here? If you will kindly stop yelling at
me and demonstrate a little remorse, you might find yourself on the other side
of this door.’
Geoff was shaking
as he stepped back to pull himself together. ‘Okay,’ he said. ‘I really need to
talk to her, Charlotte.' He exhaled heavily.
Without further
comment, Charlotte closed the door again and unhooked the chain. When she re-opened
it, she expected him to push her aside and barge into the flat, but he
surprised her with his slightly shaky composure. Clocking her closed bedroom
door, Geoff went to plead through it.
‘Emily, please let
me in,’ he
changed seconds later and Charlotte sped off. Lost for words, she threw
repeated glances towards her sister, who was hunched forward, clutching her
stomach and rocking slightly.
Emily’s mobile
began to ring. She dug it out of her handbag and turned it off. A minute later,
Charlotte’s began to ring, and Emily did the same again.
‘Oh my God,
Charlotte,’ she groaned. ‘Did I really just see that?’
Charlotte said
nothing, still searching for the right thing to say.
‘Can we go to your
place?’ Emily murmured.
‘We are, honey. Are
you okay?' It was a ridiculous question; born of futility.
‘No. It fucking
hurts,’ Emily growled.
Charlotte parked
Ben’s car down a side street near her building.
Once inside the
sanctum of her sister’s flat, Emily’s tears began to flow. Charlotte led her to
the couch.
‘Oh God, oh God,
oh God,’ Emily despaired as she rocked in Charlotte’s arms. ‘I can’t believe
how much this hurts. How could he do this to me?’
‘I have absolutely
no fucking idea, Em.’
How could this
happen? Emily and Geoff were high school sweethearts who only had eyes for each
other from the age of sixteen. Geoff adored Emily. Sure, when they were younger
Charlotte had wondered if his corporate career would clash with Emily’s
slightly bohemian lifestyle. But after nearly ten years together they'd withstood
the test of time, and she'd long since given up doubting. She might have
thought their differences had finally driven them apart, but the woman they’d
caught in his arms was Cassette, who was even more bohemian than Emily. What
the hell was going on? On the surface, it seemed Cassette’s maliciousness had
reached new, unforeseen, and unbelievable lows.
After some time
smoothing down her hair and shushing her, Charlotte let Emily go in order to make
some chicken noodle soup, a family staple for all kinds of crises.
She brought it
back to Emily and waved it under her sniffling nose. ‘Here honey, you need to
eat.’
‘I’m not hungry.’
‘Of course you’re
not, but you have to eat okay? We were on our way to lunch, remember?’
Emily took the
soup and looked into the bowl as though it was a crystal ball.
‘Eat,’ Charlotte
commanded, standing over her.
Before she could,
the front door was assaulted. Emily jumped, scalding her legs as the soup
sloshed out of the bowl.
‘Charlotte!’ Geoff
bellowed. ‘I know you’re in there! I want to see my wife!' And then changing
his tone dramatically, ‘Emily honey, Emily? I can explain. Please talk to me,
babe. She means nothing to me,’ he pleaded.
Charlotte groaned.
‘Is that some kind of script they’re all given at fourteen? Can he be any more
of a cliché?’
‘Can you make him
go away?' Emily’s voice was small.
‘Of course I can. You
go into the bedroom and lock the door. Take the soup with you.’
Once Emily was
safely out of sight, Charlotte opened the door but kept the chain on. Geoff
looked hysterical, sweating and dishevelled, like he’d run all the way there. ‘Let
me in, Charlotte!’ he demanded. ‘Where is she?’
‘I will let you in,
Geoffrey, but only to stop you making a scene on my doorstep. But I will not
let you in until you lower your voice and change your tone. Need I remind you
that you're the one who has fucked up here? If you will kindly stop yelling at
me and demonstrate a little remorse, you might find yourself on the other side
of this door.’
Geoff was shaking
as he stepped back to pull himself together. ‘Okay,’ he said. ‘I really need to
talk to her, Charlotte.' He exhaled heavily.
Without further
comment, Charlotte closed the door again and unhooked the chain. When she re-opened
it, she expected him to push her aside and barge into the flat, but he
surprised her with his slightly shaky composure. Clocking her closed bedroom
door, Geoff went to plead through it.
‘Emily, please let
me in,’ he
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