As they walked back up the hill, Felicity glanced back. It felt ominous, this pile of stuff left behind by other couples who had rented the house: the grubbiest parts of their lives, festering just out of sight.

  As they hiked back up the hill, Clementine seemed to fall behind, even though she was the fittest of the bunch. Taking the hint, Felicity fell back as well. Soon there was enough of a gap between them and the men that they wouldn’t be overheard.

  ‘Borrowing,’ Felicity prompted.

  Clementine took a deep breath. ‘Right,’ she said. ‘Let’s talk logistics.’

  ISLA

  ‘You were gone a long time.’ Isla tried not to sound suspicious, but wasn’t sure she’d pulled it off. She compensated by not looking up from her book, as though she couldn’t care less that her husband had gone into the bush with two women and come back in the door sweating, laughing and generally seeming happier than he had in years.

  Oscar would never cheat on her, because there was no way to do that passive aggressively. But taking pleasure from the company of other women was a kind of infidelity, wasn’t it?

  He waved off her remark. ‘We didn’t even make it halfway down the hill.’

  ‘Maybe it seemed like a long time because life’s so boring without us,’ Felicity put in.

  Isla turned a page without reading it. ‘Hmm. That must be it.’

  Her psychologist would have said she was projecting, because she’d enjoyed being alone with Cole. Other than the blond hair and the beard, he looked a lot like her husband, yet he was somehow much more attractive. Without being asked, he’d left a cup of tea by her side while she was reading. The tea was steeped to exactly the right strength and came with a little biscuit on an entirely unnecessary plate. She felt like the Queen. She’d read amusing passages aloud while he cleaned the kitchen, and delighted in that soft chuckle of his. She’d relaxed in a way she’d forgotten was possible. Glancing over at him now, watching the veins in his arms and the intent look on his face as he polished the kitchen bench, she found herself thinking, Why didn’t I marry you?

  She knew the answer: timing. In high school, she’d heard Cole had a thing for her, but she’d already been dating Dom. By the time that relationship fell apart—exploded, actually—Cole was with Clementine, Isla’s best friend.

  I’m so screwed up, she thought. She couldn’t just let herself enjoy a couple of hours with a gentle, gorgeous man; she had to ruin it by thinking about all the ways she wished her life were different. And then she had to find reasons to be suspicious of her husband to beat back the guilt.

  She missed Noah. Her relationship with him wasn’t complicated. Making him happy made her happy, and it was usually as straightforward as buying him a doughnut or a water pistol.

  She closed her book and rubbed her eyes.

  ‘Drink?’ Dom asked, already pouring her a glass of white wine.

  ‘It’s twelve-thirty,’ Isla said. She did want a drink—but not from him.

  For lunch they had wraps filled with roast chicken, rocket, cherry tomatoes and shaved parmesan. Cole had fried some haloumi to replace the chicken for Isla and whipped up a seeded mustard mayo to go with it. She found herself closing her eyes as she ate.

  ‘Cole, these wraps are better than sex,’ Oscar said.

  ‘Sounds like you’re doing sex wrong,’ Felicity replied.

  As the others laughed, Oscar glanced at Isla. Too late, she realised he expected her to defend him.

  ‘You’re fine at sex, honey,’ she said.

  Dom guffawed. ‘“Fine.”’

  Isla poured herself the glass of wine she’d refused earlier.

  ‘It must be different,’ Clementine said carefully, ‘since the baby?’

  ‘You got that right,’ Oscar grumbled.

  ‘Noah’s five years old,’ Isla said. ‘My body is in tip-top shape these days, thank you very much. It’s just hard to find the time.’

  Actually, her pelvic floor had never quite recovered from the birth. She could jog, but couldn’t sprint without leaking. Whenever she looked in the mirror on her way to the shower, her breasts seemed unwilling to meet her gaze, one hanging a little lower than the other. But she wasn’t about to say any of that in front of three men, or in front of Clementine, who was trying to get pregnant.

  ‘Nothing but time up here …’ Felicity said.

  ‘Yeah.’ Isla tried not to sound gloomy. She’d noticed that Oscar had packed condoms, but the thought of it was exhausting.

  Clementine didn’t seem reassured by any of this. She coughed, then sipped her water.

  ‘Don’t worry.’ Isla touched her wrist. ‘You and Cole will be fine. I’m sure you’ll find him as irresistible as he is now.’

  Cole’s ears went pink.

  Clementine looked amused. ‘Cole is “irresistible”?’

  Panic squeezed Isla’s chest. ‘I said you’d find him irresistible! I didn’t say I—’ She looked at Cole. ‘I mean, not that you’re not, I just—’

  ‘Oh, God.’ Felicity rolled her eyes. ‘Would you all just fuck each other already?’

  Awkward laughter around the table. To Isla’s horror, Felicity kept talking: ‘Just get it out of your systems! Isla and Oscar clearly need to mix things up a bit. Clementine needs to find out what she’s missing—or maybe prove to herself she’s not missing anything. Cole, no one puts this much effort into cooking unless they’re trying to get laid. And as for us—’

  ‘That’s enough, babe,’ Dom said, and she fell silent. Everyone seemed to reach for their drinks at the same time, sipping instead of speaking.

  Isla had always thought alcohol’s main function was as a smokescreen. People only pretended to like the taste. What they really wanted was the freedom to do crazy things and then blame it on the booze: to pretend they hadn’t always secretly fantasised about dancing like that, kissing that guy, voicing that dangerous opinion. It wasn’t me—it was the shots. Deniability, paid for by a failing liver.

  Clementine broke the silence. ‘What are we going to do this afternoon?’

  Felicity opened her mouth, probably to make a crude suggestion, but Oscar got in first. ‘I brought Settlers of Catan,’ he offered.

  Everyone groaned.

  ‘Charades?’ Dom said.

  Even louder groans.

  Felicity’s smile turned impish. ‘How about truth or dare?’

  ‘We went to high school together,’ Dom objected. ‘We all know one another’s secrets.’

  ‘Mutually assured destruction,’ Clementine agreed.

  ‘I wasn’t there,’ Felicity said. ‘Nor was Oscar.’

  While the others discussed this, Isla glanced at Cole. She knew Felicity had been kidding. But just for a moment, she allowed herself to imagine it.

  He looked at her, and she wondered if he was imagining it, too.

  CLEMENTINE

  ‘Dare,’ Oscar said.

  They were all sprawled on the couches, the windows darkening. A mixture of full and empty glasses covered the coffee table, along with cheese, crackers and grapes. Dom’s Bluetooth speaker crooned in the corner. Oscar had chopped some wood, and now the fire was crackling. The scrunched-up newspapers under the logs looked like black roses. The flickering light felt faintly magical. Anything could happen.

  Clementine sat between Oscar and Dom, nibbling on a dry cracker, wondering if the whole weekend would pass like this—everyone gorging themselves on food she shouldn’t have and alcohol she couldn’t drink, just in case there had been a miracle and she was pregnant. Being the only sober person at a party was tiresome. She supposed she’d have to get used to it.

  Felicity looked thoughtful for a moment, then said, ‘I dare you to give Clementine a foot massage.’

  Oscar looked at her for permission. She laughed despite herself and rested her feet on his lap. He got to it, working his thumbs deep into her arches. She let out a hum of pleasure. ‘Good dare,’ she murmured.

  Cole’s eyebrows went up. ‘Sounds like you got skills, bro.’

  Oscar wasn’t bad looking, in this light. Clementine supposed most men would be more attractive while rubbing her feet. But tonight his deep-set eyes, which normally seemed haunted, instead looked soulful. Between that and the five o’clock shadow, he had the aura of a poet—though Isla claimed he didn’t even read, much less write.

  Yes, Clementine thought. If I don’t get Dom tonight, Oscar wouldn’t be too bad.

  ‘My turn to ask someone now, right?’ Oscar said, compressing Clementine’s heels.

  Dom leaned back on the couch, taking up far too much of it with his spread arms and legs. ‘That’s the rule.’

  ‘Cole,’ Oscar said. ‘Truth or dare?’

  Cole smiled warily. ‘Truth.’

  Oscar’s face was grave. ‘Do you … pee in the shower?’

  Everyone laughed, especially Clementine, who knew he absolutely did.

  ‘It’s more efficient,’ Cole said defensively, which only made them laugh harder.

  ‘I’m with you, buddy,’ Felicity said. ‘Why waste a flush? Save the planet.’ She let Cole think she was on his side for a moment, then added, ‘Where do you do number twos? The sink?’

  ‘Okay, give me a break.’ Cole cracked his knuckles in an ominous way. ‘Truth or dare, Isla?’

  She tucked her dark hair behind her ears and leaned forward. ‘Truth.’

  ‘Who was your first celebrity crush?’

  Looking relieved, she cleared her throat. ‘Tristan Bancks, from Home and Away.’

  ‘He was cute,’ Clementine agreed.

  ‘Before my time,’ Felicity said mildly.

  The reminder of Felicity’s youth was grating. Clementine found herself touching the edges of her eyes, feeling for crows’ feet. Her mother had gone grey at thirty-five. If she didn’t get pregnant soon, she’d look like a grandma when she took the child to the playground.

  ‘My turn,’ Isla said. ‘Dom—truth or dare?’

  The corner of Dom’s mouth twitched. ‘Dare.’

  ‘Give Oscar a lap dance.’

  Oscar’s hands stiffened around Clementine’s feet. Dom looked so taken aback that Clementine couldn’t help but laugh.

  ‘Well, I’m giving a foot massage right now …’ Oscar began.

  Clementine snatched her feet away. ‘Oh, don’t let me stand in the way.’

  Cole was guffawing, but Clementine noticed that Felicity, usually the wildest of the bunch, looked tense.

  ‘Relax,’ Isla said. ‘If either of you is too chickenshit, you just have to take a drink instead. That’s the rules, right?’

  Cole looked down at his mostly empty glass. ‘Wait, am I only supposed to be drinking when I refuse a dare?’

  ‘I’m not chickenshit.’ Dom sounded uncomfortable, but as usual he covered it with braggadocio. ‘I’m just not sure Oscar can handle me.’

  ‘I’ve never had a lap dance,’ Oscar said. ‘But it’s my understanding that all I have to do is sit there.’

  ‘That’s all you’re allowed to do,’ Cole said.

  Clementine raised an eyebrow at him.

  ‘At least in the movies,’ he added hurriedly, and everyone else laughed.

  Isla had been Clementine’s maid of honour and had organised a stripper for her hen’s night. The guy had been older, thinner and grosser than she’d expected—definitely more of a McConaughey than a Tatum. Clementine couldn’t remember whether she’d been instructed not to touch him, but it was a moot point, because she hadn’t wanted to. His bronzed skin had left orange stains on the table. Clementine and Isla had giggled at his sparkly little thong, but afterwards Clementine had felt a twinge of disappointment that her last night out as a single woman hadn’t been sexier.

  The laughter had broken the tension and seemed to give Dom confidence. He stood up. ‘All right, Oscar. Brace yourself for all this.’ He shimmied, rubbing his hands down the sides of his body.

  Isla scooped up Dom’s phone and started swiping through songs he’d downloaded. She stopped at ‘Need You Tonight’ by INXS. Clementine and Cole chortled, while Felicity watched on, still looking wary.

  Dom strutted slowly over to Oscar, catwalk-style, taking the long way around the coffee table.

  ‘Quit stalling,’ Isla said.

  When Dom reached Oscar he turned his back on him, put his hands in the air and lowered himself into a crouch, hips rolling the whole way down. Though he was hamming it up, he was clearly a better dancer now than he’d been in school. Clementine found she couldn’t look away.

  Placing his palms on the floor, Dom straightened his legs and waggled his arse in Oscar’s face. ‘How long do I have to dance for?’ he asked.

  ‘The whole song, I reckon,’ Isla said.

  ‘I’ll get you for this.’

  She smirked.

  Oscar tried hard to cover his discomfort. ‘Has anyone got five dollars? To tuck into Dom’s belt.’

  ‘On the house for you, big boy,’ Dom purred. He turned and straddled Oscar, pushing his chest forward into Oscar’s face.

  Isla screamed with laughter. It seemed funny to Clementine, too, but other emotions started to creep in. Beneath the mock-seductiveness, Dom’s moves felt aggressive and predatory. He wasn’t just giving Oscar a lap dance—Dom was threatening. The way one male dog might hump another, showing the pack who’s boss.

  This unsettled Clementine but also fascinated her. A dormant seed, finally watered, sprouted inside her brain. She’d never been with a Dom.

  Soon the song was over. ‘You can stop thrusting now, mate,’ Cole said.

  Dom climbed off, wiping his forehead with his sleeve. ‘Strippers must be in pretty good shape,’ he puffed, as though this had never occurred to him before.

  ‘I wouldn’t know,’ Cole said quickly.

  Dom didn’t go back to his seat. He stared down at Oscar. ‘Truth or dare?’

  Oscar hesitated. The pause felt loaded, in a way Clementine didn’t quite understand.

  ‘Truth,’ Oscar said finally.

  ‘Have you ever cheated on anyone?’ Dom’s voice was flat, the playfulness gone.

  The firelight dimmed. The room seemed to grow colder.

  ‘No,’ Oscar said, without breaking eye contact.

  For a second, Clementine thought Dom was going to interrogate Oscar about his answer. The silence grew tense. But then Dom shrugged and sat down. ‘Well, that was a waste of a turn.’

  Clementine felt Oscar relax into the couch beside her. ‘My go again,’ he said. ‘Felicity—truth or dare?’

  No one had asked Clementine anything yet. She decided not to point this out.

  ‘Truth,’ Felicity said.

  Oscar hesitated. Maybe he’d expected her to pick dare. ‘What’s the worst break-up you’ve ever had?’

  ‘That would be with James,’ Felicity said.

  ‘What went wrong?’

  Dom squeezed his wife’s arm. ‘You don’t have to talk about this. It’s just a game.’

  ‘It’s okay.’ Felicity took a deep breath. ‘He died.’

  Clementine almost laughed—a reflex, since Felicity was usually kidding. The sombre look on the woman’s face stopped her.

  ‘Oh my God!’ Isla put her hands to her mouth. ‘What happened?’

  ‘Technically we were already kind of broken up,’ Felicity said. ‘I’d gotten sick of him. He was older than me and a bit clingy. He got into drugs and started hanging out with dodgy people. I went back to his flat for some clothes I’d left behind, and he … well, the point is, he was shot. By a police officer, pretty much right in front of me.’

  Cole’s jaw dropped. ‘Shit, really?’

  ‘Yep,’ Felicity said. ‘But the whole experience—maybe this is a horrible thing to say, and his family definitely wouldn’t approve, but it was a blessing in disguise. Someone I met at the funeral later offered me a job at a car yard, and years later, that was where I met Dom.’

  Dom smiled sadly. He’d clearly heard this story before.

  ‘I’m so sorry,’ Clementine said.

  ‘Because I’d had a shitty boyfriend,’ Felicity continued, ‘I could tell what a good catch Dom was. And because I’d seen someone die, I really, deeply understood how short life is. How if you want something, you shouldn’t wait. You should take it while the chance is there.’ She glanced at Clementine.

  ‘Rough way to learn that lesson,’ Oscar said.

  ‘No kidding. But I like who I am—who it turned me into. So, it’s hard to wish anything had been different.’ She took another sip of her wine. ‘Anyway. How’s that for truth?’

  Dom patted her knee. ‘I don’t think anyone will be able to top it.’

  ‘Let’s see,’ Felicity said. ‘My turn, right?’

  The others nodded.

  ‘Clementine,’ Felicity said, and Clementine’s breath caught in her throat. ‘Truth or dare?’

  She hesitated, picturing herself doing a lap dance, then panicked. ‘Truth.’

  Felicity smirked. ‘If you could have sex with anyone here other than your husband, who would it be?’

  Clementine felt the colour rising to her cheeks. This wasn’t what they’d discussed. She glanced at Cole, expecting him to tell her she didn’t have to answer, the way Dom had stuck up for Felicity.

  ‘It’s okay, Clem,’ Cole said instead. ‘I won’t be offended.’

  ‘It’s just … hard to picture myself with anyone but you,’ Clementine lied, glancing from Oscar to Dom like she didn’t already know the answer; like she hadn’t watched that video of Dom and Isla, over and over.

  Her husband had always been cautious, even timid. He would put on a seatbelt just to move the car from one parking spot to another. He would stay up late frowning worriedly at spreadsheets, even though it seemed to be raining money at the gym lately. During sex, he kept asking her if she was okay.

  Whereas she thought Dom would just take what he wanted.

  ‘I assume it doesn’t have to be a man,’ Isla put in.

  ‘Ooh, hello.’ Felicity raised an eyebrow.

  ‘I think it does,’ Clementine said quickly. She looked at Oscar and Dom again. ‘But, I mean, I don’t know what either of them is like in bed.’

 

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