Looking Out, page 28
‘I’m really sorry, Natasha,’ Monica said.
‘So am I,’ Mitchell said quietly.
‘And you think he targeted me? You reckon he was following me – possibly for weeks – before approaching me at the shop?’
Monica nodded.
‘I feel sick that he was at the girls’ netball back then,’ Natasha said quietly. Everything seemed to catch up as dizziness joined the nausea. Natasha felt like she was on a boat in rough seas – her insides twisted and turned, her whole being sick and shaky.
‘Yep, that’s the bit that really gets me riled,’ Monica said.
‘And me,’ Mitchell said, in barely more than a whisper.
‘That’s definitely him in the photos, isn’t it? Don’t you think?’ Monica said.
Natasha yearned for it not to be true, so badly wanted to be able to say, No, you’ve got the wrong person. But she couldn’t.
She nodded. ‘Unfortunately, yes. I’ve seen him wear that jacket with the red bits on the shoulders. But he said he loves me. Why would he …?’
‘I guess it’s a love-rat scam and something else too, Natasha. He’s targeted you. It’s not your fault.’
‘But what does he want?’
‘Your money, the house.’
‘But …’ Natasha had fallen hard for Jesse. How could he have put on such an act – the affection, the wonderful sex? Had she really been manipulated? Oh, god.
‘He’s even blackmailed Mitchell.’
Natasha noticed Mitchell take a quick breath in. He seemed a little pale.
‘What? How?’
‘I’ll tell you the ins and outs later,’ he said, ‘but he made me leave and take Angel.’
Natasha watched as Monica put her hand on Mitchell’s arm. ‘Natasha, I think we really need to discuss what we’re going to do first.’
‘Do? About what?’
‘Jesse.’
But Natasha’s brain was stuck on the tumbling realisation closing in: the fact that Mitchell – her safe, trustworthy Mitchell – had lied to her. And not just a white lie like protecting the surprise around a Christmas gift or something, but had actually lied to her about going to a conference.
‘Natasha, we need to get Jesse out of the house,’ Mitchell said. ‘This is urgent.’
‘Is it really, or are you just realising I might be serious about someone else, and …’
‘Honestly, Natasha, if he was a good guy – if he was all he portrayed himself as to you – and I thought you’d be safe and happy with him, and the girls were fine, believe me, I wouldn’t be here trying to muck things up for you. Please know that. I’d be sad, of course – devastated, even, maybe – but I wouldn’t stand in the way. But he’s clearly as dodgy as fuck. And Christ only knows what he’s got planned. You’ve just read all Monica’s stuff.’
‘And I’m not clever enough to fabricate that, believe me,’ Monica said and pursed her lips again. ‘Unfortunately, that’s all evidence. Circumstantial mostly, yes, but I’ve spoken to the police. David, Anastasia’s friend, has mates in the force …’
‘Anastasia knows?’ Mortification began to take Natasha over. The one friend who had been supportive of her and Jesse, yet hadn’t said anything about any of this?
‘Yes. Sorry. But, please, Natasha, let’s not get off track. I know how it might look, but I promise you we’ve not been sitting around gossiping about you. Well, certainly not in the way that I imagine you’re thinking. Please believe me. We’re worried about you! Anastasia thought Jesse was vaguely familiar, too, from online, and then was sure when she saw him at the party. She contacted me afterwards, mainly because we’re both single and she knew I’d dabbled with dating apps before. She was worried about the fact Jesse had clearly lied to you about being online and was concerned that if he’d lied about that then he might have lied to you about other stuff. She didn’t know how to tell you. I absolutely appreciate how it might seem, but, honestly, Natasha, we only have your best interests in mind.’
Natasha nodded and swallowed. She’d been a fool. Had no right to get off scot-free. There had been a couple of red flags she’d tried to dismiss, write off as teething problems, hadn’t there? If they couldn’t spend more than twenty-four hours together without issues arising that had her walking on eggshells … And the girls … Oh, god. A bolt of anxiety hit Natasha, pulling her up short. Yes, she had to swallow her pride and move on. Dump Jesse, get over him.
‘But he was so convincing,’ she said quietly, her face flaming again.
‘He’s clearly good at what he does, so I don’t think you can be too hard on yourself,’ Mitchell said.
Monica nodded.
Natasha looked at her husband. The kindness in his eyes and the gentleness in his features wrenched at her heart. She really wanted him to be angry with her, to at least not let her off the hook so easily. She needed to suffer. But she also longed to take hold of him and have his bulk wrap itself around her and never let go, to tell her everything would be okay. Of course, it would be in time. Mitchell was reliable, sensible, pragmatic, didn’t hold grudges that she was aware of. And this was a case of bruised hearts and a close financial call. This could be repaired, if not fully, then at least they’d still be connected in some form, no matter how flimsily, through the girls. And even just the two of them, because the fact he was there told her that. Yes, it was all a mess, but not fatally so. They had to move forward if they had any hope of repairing the damage and not letting the cracks get any bigger.
And then something else crept in from the edges of her mind and became clear. Yes, Jesse had visited the house that day and met Mitchell while pretending to hand out business cards, which she knew about. But now she’d been to where Jesse had been living, she knew he didn’t live anywhere near her. Her heart seemed to slow. He must have actually followed her home that night after dinner. How come she hadn’t realised that until now? Her stomach turned. Because she’d not looked at a map – had just programmed the address into the car’s satnav and followed the directions. Bloody technology. If only she’d had to consult a proper map – even one on her phone – she might have realised.
Oh! Another realisation dawned. There’d been no sign of a garden at the house either. The box of vegetables was most likely purchased as a prop for ingratiating her to him. God, how stupid could she have been? Just how many red flags had she missed? Or pushed out of her mind, more like? God, just how long had he targeted her? And how many other women, families, had he tried to destroy – had succeeded in damaging?
Natasha’s thoughts went to her daughters – lovely, supportive, accepting Willow and Lara – and she became angry. He had to be stopped. She’d do whatever it took.
She was aware Mitchell and Monica were watching her intently and was glad they’d remained silent and given her time to process all she’d learnt. She’d tell them the rest of what she’d remembered later. Right now, she could see Monica was fidgeting and keen to move things along. Natasha fought the sudden exhaustion dragging her down.
‘Right. So, what do we do? How do we stop him? And can we?’ she said, looking at Monica and then Mitchell again.
‘We can try. It’s really up to the police, but as far as I know, they’re mobilising. Now, I’m warning you, this isn’t going to be easy. And it has to happen before Jesse figures out anything is up. And, remember, he’s got away plenty of times before.’
‘Well, not on our watch,’ Michell said.
‘Exactly. So, what’s it going to take?’
‘Here’s what I think,’ Monica said. ‘You take Jesse out to dinner tonight and while you’re gone, we’ll get a locksmith in – a real one – to change the locks. Just to be sure. I found one who will be able to do it and, in a minute, when we’re done here, I’ll go back to the police and see if I can get an update. I’m hoping they’re coordinating with their interstate colleagues and someone will be ready to throw his arse in jail.’
‘Do you reckon he’ll get violent when he realises we’ve discovered the truth?’ Natasha had seen glimpses of his intensity, which she’d dismissed, but now recognised as quite possibly the tip of a very large iceberg of physical aggression.
‘I’ll be there. If you want me to be,’ Mitchell said.
Natasha nodded. ‘What about the girls? I don’t want them caught up in anything. I mean, not trying to be melodramatic or anything, but if shit gets real, Jesse could take them hostage or something, couldn’t he?’
Nausea raced through Natasha again at the thought. She didn’t want to consider it – any of it – but now her eyes had been opened, she wasn’t sure what Jesse could be capable of. And trapped people who pretty much had nothing to lose could come out swinging – whatever form that might take. As Monica had shown, Natasha didn’t know him at all and had absolutely no way of knowing what he might do in that situation.
‘And you say I watch too much crime drama,’ Monica said, rolling her eyes. ‘But, seriously, I don’t think we can take any chances. The girls can be here, with me or on their own. Or we can organise for them to go and stay over at one of their friends.’
‘I think here,’ Natasha said. ‘The less people involved, the better.’
‘Fair enough,’ Monica said.
‘Right. So, they’ll be okay to be picked up as usual after school, right? We don’t need to warn them or the school, or anyone else, do we?’ Natasha said.
‘No, I don’t think so. As long as Jesse doesn’t know we’re onto him, we’re fine. And everyone’s safe.’
Natasha nodded again. She felt as if she’d lost all her blood – that it had drained down to her feet and out onto the floor. ‘God, how am I going to have dinner with him now, after all this, and not give the game away?’
‘You’re just going to pretend you’re an award-winning actress and put on the performance of a lifetime,’ Monica said.
‘But what if I can’t?’
‘Well, hopefully everything will be in place soon after you leave. See if you can take your car; that way you can bring him back,’ Monica said.
‘Is that wise?’ Mitchell cut in.
Oh, god. Natasha’s knees jiggled. Thank goodness she was sitting down, otherwise she might have fainted.
‘Hang on. Better yet – yes, take your car, but suggest he drives. I’m sure he’d love that!’ Mitchell said.
‘Oh, yes, I agree with that,’ Monica said. ‘Okay, so we’re all clear on everything at this point?’
Natasha and Mitchell nodded. Natasha thought Mitchell looked as pale and decidedly uncomfortable, queasy even, as she felt. Crikey, who would have thought their simple little lives would turn out like this?
‘So, I’m going to head off,’ Monica said. ‘You tee up dinner with Jesse, Natasha. And other than that, you two need to talk. Right, Mitchell?’
Natasha looked from Monica to Mitchell. There was clearly something going on with them. Before she had time to say anything, Monica was up and hugging Natasha where she sat. Natasha wrapped her arms around her friend, but a little absently – she was still trying to figure out what was up with Mitchell and if it was part of what they’d just discussed or something else.
Oh, fuck. He must have started seeing someone, too. Again, Natasha felt her whole being shift on its axis. Oh, god. No. She couldn’t bear that.
Selfish. That was her next thought. She couldn’t cast aspersions, had no leg to stand on.
‘Are you seeing someone?’ she said, unable to keep the words from spilling out.
‘What?’ Mitchell’s head snapped up. ‘God, no. Never. I’d never …’
‘Okay.’ A tiny river of relief trickled through Natasha, but underneath it she remained taut with fear and anxiety. She watched Mitchell’s fingers fiddle with his mug handle. He was clearly trying to put his thoughts together. So, whatever was to come was going to be big. She found herself holding her breath in anticipation – and then as the silence stretched on, releasing it and gulping in another. She wanted Mitchell to remain silent forever, but also wanted to know what it was he needed to talk about.
‘Just tell me, Mitchell,’ she said quietly. She wanted to add, Whatever it is, we’ll get through it together, but the words were stuck in her suddenly dry throat. She wasn’t sure of anything to do with them anymore.
‘I’ve fucked up big time, Natasha,’ Mitchell said quietly, before fixing his gaze on her.
‘How?’ She wanted to get up and run, burn off her nervous energy. But she couldn’t even have removed her hands from the empty mug if she wanted to.
Mitchell rubbed his face with his hands. ‘I sold the investment property around three months ago without you knowing. I’ve remortgaged the house. I’ve lost two hundred grand, give or take. I’m most likely depressed, probably technically an alcoholic, I’ve become addicted to online gambling – poker, to be precise.’
He fell silent and then seemed to be waiting for her response.
But Natasha was still waiting for the last thing he must surely have to tell her: And I want a divorce. That had to be what this was about. Not all the other.
‘And you want a divorce, right?’ she said.
‘What? No. Do you?’
‘No. But I wouldn’t blame you, after all I’ve done.’
‘I actually think, Natasha, your transgressions are a world away from mine. Didn’t you hear me? I’ve …’ He ran through the list again.
She nodded at each point and this time the clarity of what he was saying was there. A part of her wanted to ask how he’d got himself – them – into this situation. But a bigger part didn’t want to know or perhaps didn’t need to know.
‘It’s not a competition, Mitchell,’ she said quietly, looking at him, her heart swelling slightly as he matched her gentle, open smile.
‘Thank you for saying that.’
‘Well, it’s true. We’re both at fault. End of story. Okay.’ Natasha took a moment to arrange his admissions into a prioritised list. First things first, his health. ‘I probably should give up alcohol too, actually,’ she said. ‘And that would save some money.’
‘Unfortunately, it’ll take a lot more than that to dig us out of the hole I’ve put us in.’
‘How bad is it, really?’
His face flamed again. ‘Honestly, I don’t know exactly or even the ballpark. I’ve avoided thinking about it. Sorry.’
Natasha nodded thoughtfully. ‘We can crunch the numbers together. Mitchell, we’re in this together. It’s partly my fault for not taking more of an interest. I didn’t want to be one of those wives who nagged and questioned everything.’
‘If only you had been,’ he said with his mouth twisted into a lopsided grin.
‘Careful what you wish for, mister. I can be, if you’d like.’
‘I think perhaps we’d better make it a pact going forward. Full transparency. I was the one who was supposed to be smart with money.’
‘I think we’ll have to agree to not blame each other – just find a way to sort things out, together – do our best to save the house, to start with. Deal with one thing at a time.’
‘That’s what Monica said. She made me a list.’
‘Of course she did.’
‘She really should be a life coach,’ Mitchell said.
‘Ha! You’ve always said that’s a job title for a wanker, and that they’re all scam artists, remember?’ Natasha said.
‘I know. I’m revising my harsh views on the subject.’
‘But seriously, she’s been awesome, hasn’t she?’ Natasha said. ‘I’m so glad I didn’t lose her friendship. It was a close call. I really thought I had.’ Tears filled her eyes. She felt Mitchell’s hand on hers. She looked at him, blinking away the tears. ‘Please tell me it’s going to be okay, Mitchell,’ she whispered. ‘I know we can’t know what the future holds, but I need some reassurance.’
‘It is going to be okay,’ Mitchell said, staring into her eyes. ‘I promise, to the best of my ability, to make it so.’
Natasha’s phone pinged with a message and she dragged it out. Jesse. Her heart began to pound hard.
‘Jesse’s asking if he needs to organise dinner. Oh, god. What do I say? It’s okay. I’ve got it,’ she said a moment later, flapping a hand, remembering Monica’s words from earlier about how to proceed regarding Jesse. She tapped out her reply, and then read it aloud: ‘“Forget dinner. I’m taking you out to celebrate. Just landed a big new client! Exciting times! Girls will be at friends’, so just us. Xx”.’ She cringed at the fact she’d included two kisses. She looked at Mitchell. He had his eyebrows raised. She knew that look. ‘Unfortunately, there is no big new client,’ she said, offering a quick pout.
‘There will be.’
‘Hopefully. But, meanwhile, two can play this game of lies,’ she said, and winked at him.
‘Good for you. There’s my strong, brave wife.’
‘Right, that’s that part done at least. I hope he …’ Another message silenced her. ‘It’s Jesse back again. He says: “Sounds perfect, beautiful.” And he’s included a love heart,’ she added, again offering Mitchell a repentant cringe. ‘So, it looks like we’re okay and in the clear. So far, so good.’
Natasha watched as Mitchell stood up, and frowned. She didn’t want him to leave – didn’t want to burst this tiny bubble they’d found themselves in.
But then he was holding out his arms. ‘Do you think it would be stretching things too far to have a hug?’
Natasha’s heart swelled with contentment. ‘A hug would be perfect,’ she said, pushing back her chair and getting up. She sank into his chest, muttering, ‘I love you, Mitchell Emerson,’ and experienced another shift, her equilibrium righting itself.
Chapter Thirty-seven
Natasha took care to look her best for her final dinner date with Jesse, in the hope he’d be distracted from her nervous and angry state. She’d struggled to apply her makeup and had to wipe off and redo her lipstick three times due to her hand shaking. Although she had relished the time alone in her bathroom; she’d had many silent conversations with herself in the mirror going over the plans and reminding herself to breathe and to stay calm because a lot was riding on this.
