Chapter 1
In the middle of the night Lizzie woke. Her eyes half opening, trying unsuccessfully to adjust to the dark. She moved her hand marginally – just enough to feel if he was still in the bed. He was. She expected he would be asleep after last nights drinking, but she listened hard to hear if his breathing was steady.
When she was sure he was asleep, she quietly slid out of the bed, padded round and felt for the familiar door handle.
She didn't go into the en-suite, instead walking soundlessly down the hall and downstairs to use that bathroom. Where she could turn the light on without fear of waking him. Her husband.
Looking in the mirror she felt slight relief – the damage wasn't as bad as she had thought it might be. A blue tinge on her left jaw line – easily disguised by make up. As she leaned over the bathroom basin she realized the pain was more in the ribs and on her right forearm.
With a deep sigh she stared hard at herself in the mirror again. Not really seeing, not really feeling, or even thinking. Just blank. Nothing. Over the past years of marriage she had conditioned herself to switch off. Not feel sorry for herself – she was beyond that. Not thinking to seek help. If she felt anything it was more self hatred. She was ugly, she was not worthy, she was dumb, she was stupid, she never did anything right. She got what she deserved. And what she'd got last night was a hiding.
She had mastered the art of soundlessness. She quietly went to one of the spare downstairs bedrooms and crawled into that bed to at least try to get a little bit of sleep.
Waking the next morning she glanced at the clock beside the bed. Nine o'clock. Oh please God let him have woken up and gone to work. Her ribs hurt like hell but she didn't think there was anything broken. Just suck it up. She pulled on a sweatshirt (she had spare clothes in this bedroom for times like this), and padded up the stairs again. Thank you God. He wasn't there. He must have gone. At last she could relax. It was Monday. Morning tea with Ginnie and Sarah at 10.30. An hour and a half to get ready. She turned the shower on – as hot as she could bear, and started her day.
She noticed the homeless man on the corner before she got out of her late model SRV. Rummaged round in her handbag and pulled out a $5 note that she dropped into his box as she walked past, barely glancing down, grimacing slightly at the unpleasant aroma that wafted up. And immediately forgot about him – more pleasant things on her mind.
Coffee with old friends. A chance to forget about life for an hour. A few laughs with people who care. But don't care too much. No one really knew what was going on in her life. That was how she liked it.
She walked tall, years of on-line yoga, and a ketogenic diet enhanced an already elegant posture, a complexion younger than her years. And she dressed fashionably, but neutrally – a pair of fitting black jeans, a ink blue/black top, low heels. She had long ago learned how to dress without drawing attention to herself.
Ginnie and Sarah were already there. Non stop talking. They both laughed and waved as she entered the café.
“Hi there stranger,” Sarah came round to give her a hug, followed by Ginnie.
“Hey, enough of the stranger – you were the one who missed our last date,” Lizzie protested.
“Ha ha – I'll have to catch you up on that,” Sarah laughed “I had a man date that day.”
“I heard it didn't go so well?” laughed Lizzie.
Sarah rolled her eyes. “He was about the opposite of everything he had said about himself on Tinder. Sense of humour – if that was humour I didn't get it at all – and he laughed like a donkey – it was embarrassing”. She let out a long donkey like laugh which started Ginnie and Lizzie laughing. Lizzie clutching her side as the pain spasmed through.
“And then I couldn't get rid of him,” Sarah continued. “He kept texting and messaging – trying to set up another date. In the end I just had to be blunt. I told him that I'd gone back to my boyfriend.”
“And what boyfriend would that be?” Ginnie asked.
“Good question. Hmm the one I dream about at night – the sexy, tanned, strong yet tender, rich, good in bed one of course.” Sarah laughed “We aren't all so lucky as you Lizzie having your sexy man.”
Lizzie laughed, “Keep your hands off Sarah Hendricks – why do you think I never invite you guys round? The two people I'm supposed to be able to trust, but can't let them anywhere near my husband!” Oh she was good, she thought to herself. If only they knew...
“But seriously,” Sarah shrugged, “I have no idea how you're supposed to find a man these days. Like who wants to go on Tinder – it feels so false. It's like every date is a blind date and it just feels too hard sometimes.”
“Why don't you try sports clubs or something?” Ginnie suggested, “There's bound to be spare guys out at places like that – golf, rugby, I don't know – cars?”
“What about bowls?” laughed Sarah, “The bowling club next to work is having an opening night next week. Want to come?”
“Perfect.” Ginnie replied. “Just go there.”
“I'm not going by myself,” Sarah screeched, and half the cafe turned to look at her, causing the three to burst into more laughter.
“So you'd go if we went with you?” Ginnie suggested.
“Well Ginnie, you don't have a man either so you never know – we might both get lucky.”
“At a bowling club though?” Lizzie was doubtful. “Aren't they all about 100 years old there?”
“Apparently not these days,” said Sarah. “Seems to be quite popular with work groups and all kinds of people who just go for the social thing. You know, have a few drinks, bowl a few bowls. It's meant to be quite fun I've heard.”
Ginnie twirled her coffee. She was actually seriously thinking about it.
“OK.” she said. “I'll go if you go.”
“NOOOO I don't want to go really” Sarah laughed again. “I just imagine it's the kind of place my donkey man would go to.”
“Will you come too Lizzie?” Ginnie glanced up at Lizzie.
“I don't even want a man!” Lizzie exclaimed.
“No but you can be our moral support,” said Ginnie
“And you can all attract them all in,” laughed Sarah. “They'll take one look at you and start circling and then Ginnie and I can pick from the bunch.”
“Don't be ridiculous,” but again even Lizzie was laughing as she imagined how it would pan out. “OK I'll come – just to see you two in action.”
“Oh My God! Does that mean we are actually going?” Sarah screeched again.
“Why not?” said Ginnie. “It' might be fun. Even if there aren't any guys. You are really sporty Sarah, you might even like bowls. And you both have to come! Not piking out on me now!”
“Aaagghhh – what just happened here?” Sarah laughed, “I was just kidding about actually going. But OK I'll email you the details and we'll go fishing!”
Sarah and Lizzie glanced at each other. Wondering how they had actually agreed to this.
And Ginnie of all people. She seemed quite happy with her life as a single. She certainly didn't seem as if she wanted to meet new people. And she had a busy job as an accountant in town, and ran marathons in the weekends. Ginnie had actually only ran one full and two half marathons in the last two years, but Sarah and Lizzie seemed to think that she was out running every second.
Ginnie looked at Lizzie thoughtfully. “Anyway Lizzie, now that's sorted, what have you done to yourself? Have you hurt yourself?”
Lizzie laughed casually, “Yes I have actually. Thanks for noticing.” She smiled at Ginnie and glared at Sarah. “I actually managed to go riding on Saturday. My horse decided he didn't want me to jump this particular jump and dumped me on it. Landed on the pole right here.” She put her hand over her ribs where her husband had punched her last night.
“Ooowww, that would hurt,” Sarah replied. “Did you go to have it Xrayed?”
“No of course not – its not that bad,” Lizzie shrugged it off. “It'll be fine in a couple of days.”
“You always seem to be getting bumps and bruises,” Sarah observed.
“It's because she's always out doing adventurous stuff,” Ginnie replied, “Not like us boring old farts.”
Lizzie just gave a lame smile. “Yeah, but I shouldn't be so careless. I'm so un-coordinated.” Like most people can fall off a horse without hurting themselves. She effortlessly switched back to the lie... “The horse managed to give me a kick for good measure before he trotted back to the yard,” and she touched her bruised jaw. “You might not see it – I've plastered make up over it but its a bit blue.”
“Arnica for bruises,” suggested Ginnie, “its good stuff.”
“Yeah I'll try some when I got home.” Lizzie smiled. “Anyway what are you up to Ginnie? All OK in your world?”
“Well it's budget time at work and I'm busy as hell. But apart from that just work, home, work, home. You know how it is.”
“So you're not running at the moment?”
“Yes I had a couple of runs in the weekend, but not as often as I should.” Lizzie replied “But really need to do a bit more training. I want to go to the Queenstown Marathon in November. She gave a sly smile, “I'm into the next age group this year – the 50 to 59 group. I'll be the youngest one in my group so I want to give it heaps and see how well I can do.”
“We should go down to watch.” Sarah looked at Lizzie. “Could be a fun weekend.”
Lizzie smiled, “I'll have to check with Michael. See what he's doing. But yes, I'll be up for it if it all works out that we go,” she said noncommittally.