‘Your wife mentioned it – when we heard about what was in the smoothies yesterday. She said she was an addict.’

‘Right,’ said Ben. ‘I forgot that.’

‘It must be hard,’ said Zoe. She flexed her toes.

‘It’s hard for Jessica,’ said Ben. ‘It’s like she has to keep hearing the same old story. She never knew Lucy before the drugs, so to her, she’s just a messed-up junkie.’

‘You never really get anyone else’s family,’ said Zoe. ‘I broke up with my boyfriend because he wanted to go to Bali this week, and I said I couldn’t go anywhere, I had to be with my parents for the anniversary of my brother’s death. He was, like, “So are you going to have to spend that week in January with your parents for the rest of your whole life?” And I said . . . “Uh, yeah.”’

‘He sounds like kind of a jerk,’ said Ben.

‘It’s hard to pick the jerks,’ said Zoe.

‘I bet your brother would have picked him for a jerk,’ said Ben, because it wasn’t hard for a guy to pick the jerks, but then he wanted to kick himself. Was that an insensitive thing to say on the anniversary? And maybe her brother wasn’t the type to be on the lookout for his sister.

But Zoe smiled. ‘Probably.’

‘What was your brother like?’ asked Ben.

‘He liked science fiction and conspiracy theories and politics and music that no-one had ever heard of,’ said Zoe. ‘He was never boring. We disagreed on basically everything there is to disagree on.’ For a horrible moment he thought she might cry, but she didn’t.

She said, ‘What was your sister like? Before the drugs? Or beneath the drugs?’

‘Beneath the drugs,’ repeated Ben. He thought about it: Lucy beneath the drugs. ‘She used to be the funniest person I knew. Sometimes she still is. She’s still a person. People treat addicts like they’re not real people anymore but she’s still . . . she’s still a person.’

Zoe nodded, just once, almost businesslike, as if she heard what he said and she got it.

‘My dad just wanted to cut her off,’ said Ben. ‘Have nothing more to do with her. Pretend like . . . she never existed. He said it was a matter of self-preservation.’

‘How did that work out for him?’ asked Zoe.

‘It worked out great for him,’ said Ben. ‘He left. Mum and Dad got a divorce. He doesn’t even ask about Lucy when I see him.’

‘I guess everyone has, like, different ways of coping with stuff,’ said Zoe. ‘After Zach died, my father wanted to talk about him all the time and my mother couldn’t bear to say his name, so . . .’

They sat in silence for a few moments.

‘What do you think is going on here?’ asked Zoe.

‘I don’t know,’ said Ben. ‘I really don’t know.’

He watched Jessica walk out of the bathroom. She looked across at Ben and smiled, a bit self-consciously. It would be because she wasn’t wearing make-up. These days he hardly ever saw her without that gunk plastered all over her face.

He looked at his wife and he knew that he loved her, but at the same time a thought occurred to him. All that kissing wasn’t reconnecting. It was saying goodbye.

chapter fifty

Frances

Nobody came. The hours passed as slowly as if they were passengers stuck on a plane not moving from the tarmac.

Everyone kept returning to the keypad and trying out random combinations of numbers over and over.

Frances tried the alphabet code with multiple words: LSD, Psychedelic (hard to spell). Unlock. Open. Key. Health.

That red light flashed again and again and it started to feel personal.

Moods began to fluctuate in odd and unexpected ways.

Tags: Liane Moriarty Mystery
Source: readsnovelonline.net