Misty lied.
I should’ve known. Closing my eyes briefly, I stood up and looked straight at Callie. ‘Well?’
She blinked in surprise. ‘Is that all you have to say to me?’
‘What d’you want me to say?’
What the hell was she waiting for? Like the earth orbiting the sun, what Callie was about to do next was inevitable. I was about to get shot down – and all I could do was stand before her and wait for the bullets to fly.
forty-six. Callie
* * *
Tobey had straightened up to his full height, and, though he tried to hide it, he was hurting. Badly. And, because he was hurting, so was I.
‘I’m here because I thought you might need a friend.’
Tobey’s eyes narrowed. His lips twisted into a sneer. ‘And that would be you, would it?’
‘Yes, it would,’ I replied. Why was he being so bloody? ‘I just wanted to say that if you need someone to talk to, or if there’s anything else you need, I’m here for you.’
‘That’s it? That’s all you have to say?’
‘What would you like me to say, Tobey?’ I asked, exasperated. ‘I’m trying here, OK? Misty is pregnant with your child and … and I’m trying to be supportive, but you’re not the only one hurting. You’ve taken what you and I had and stomped it into dust. And for what? For Misty. You and her – that just has “fuckery” written all over it. Was she worth it?’
Silence.
‘No.’ Tobey’s voice was barely audible, but I heard him.
‘Then why did you do it, Tobey? Why did you sleep with the one person you knew would hurt me the most?’ I asked.
Misty had been trying to get with Tobey for years. Even when he and I became an item, I could feel her breathing down my neck, just waiting for an opportunity to take my place. Once Tobey had even tried to use Misty to make me jealous. Tried and succeeded. I clenched my fists, the resentment, the bitterness I’d tried to bank down rising up like lava in an erupting volcano.
‘It wasn’t like that—’
‘Yes, it was,’ I interrupted. ‘You deliberately tried to hurt me, and you know what? You succeeded. I want to be your friend, but part of me hopes you and Misty are miserable together. I hope you’re both as miserable as you’ve made me. I hope your child dies.’
Tobey and I stared at each other, my poisonous words echoing between us. Oh God!
‘I’m sorry, Tobey,’ I said, appalled. ‘I didn’t mean it.’
‘Yes, you did,’ he said quietly.
‘Tobey, I—’
‘Don’t say any more, Callie. I think you’ve said enough. You took aim and your aim was true. You can go now.’
It was only when I felt salt water run over my top lip and into the corner of my mouth that I realized I was crying. I dashed my hand across my cheeks, but the tears didn’t stop. I looked at Tobey, waiting for him to crow at my tears, but, to my shock, he too had tears shimmering in his eyes. Unlike me, however, he wasn’t even trying to hide them.
We stood less than a metre apart. All I wanted at that moment was for Tobey to open his arms and hold me. I wanted to wrap my arms around him and never let him go. The two of us against the world.
Neither of us moved.
‘Just go, Callie,’ Tobey sighed, turning to sit down on the piano stool, his back to me. ‘There’s nothing left for us to talk about.’
Our moment had come – and gone. Regret tore at my flesh. I turned to leave.
‘Callie, wait.’
My hand froze on the door handle. Slowly, I looked over my shoulder at Tobey.
‘For what it’s worth, I’m sorry.’
I replied, ‘For what it’s worth, so am I.’
Sorry. One of the most inadequate words on the planet. A small word that stood between us like a giant sentinel from hell. If Misty had her baby, Tobey would be a father whether he decided to hook up with her or not. If she wanted an abortion, Tobey will still have slept with her as a way of hurting me. That left us precisely nowhere.
I left the room, quietly closing the door behind me.
forty-seven. Tobey
* * *
When Callie left the room, I buried my head in my hands. I knew what she was thinking. That we were irrevocably broken. If she gave me half a chance, I’d spend the rest of my life trying to put us back together. I knew I could, given time. She just needed to give me a second chance.
But that was never going to happen.
How could it, with Misty in our way? If she insisted on keeping her child, then, with each day that passed, Callie would see my mistake getting bigger and bigger. How would I ever persuade Callie to trust me again?
The hatred I felt for Misty in that moment scared me. Actually scared me. Even though on some level I knew that I shared responsibility, it didn’t make any difference. If she had been standing in front of me at that precise moment …
This was what I got for caring. Caring about people made you soft and stupid. Caring made you weak. I closed my eyes, giving in to the coldness creeping over me. Rejoicing, revelling in it. My heart was freezing, like water turning to ice. I straightened up and took a deep breath. A dark quiet descended upon me, calming my mind.
It was time to change and rearrange my life. No more soft and stupid for me. No more weakness.
It didn’t work.
It didn’t pay.
NOW
* * *
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Journey from loving son and dutiful husband to mastermind behind the Leopold Day Centre outrage
Marcus Dupont, 34, has been remanded in custody for the deaths of nine Noughts at the Leopold Day Centre yesterday. Described by those who knew him as a loving son and dutiful husband, he published his three-page manifesto on his social-media channels before leaving home with two automatic handguns, intent on causing misery and destruction.
Dupont, a member of the TVA (Traditional Values Alliance), stated in his rambling, three-page manifesto document that he was ‘working for the good of Crosses everywhere. Noughts breed like flies and within a generation if we’re not vigalent [sic] we Crosses will be outnumbered and overrun. We Crosses need to protect our own and send a message to Noughts everywhere that they are not wanted and should go back to whatever Arctic circle godforsaken country they came from.’
Marcus attended Ocampo High School, where he was described by a teacher as a straight-A student. ‘I can’t understand how Marcus could get involved in something like this. He was always popular with both teachers and other students. I hope he gets the mental-health care he so obviously needs.’
forty-eight. Libby
* * *
‘Your dad is Tobias Durbridge?’ Troy says, stunned.
‘Yes,’ I admit. ‘The one and only.’
‘But your surname is Jackman.’ Troy states the blooming obvious.