As she’d been preparing for tonight she’d berated herself for starting a book club. It was just a distraction from her grief over Abigail moving out. Was grief too dramatic a word? Probably. But that’s how it felt. It felt like she’d suffered a loss, but no one was bringing her flowers, so she’d busied herself with a book club, of all things. (Why didn’t she just go shopping?) She’d ostentatiously invited all the kindergarten parents, and ten parents had said yes. Then she’d chosen a juicy, rollicking book she knew she’d enjoy, and given everyone heaps of time to read it, before realizing that everyone would have a turn choosing a book, and so she’d probably end up having to wade through some awful, worthy tomes. Oh well. She had plenty of experience not doing her homework. She’d wing it on those nights. Or she’d cheat and ask Celeste for a summary.
“Stop calling it the Erotic Fiction Club,” said her first guest, Samantha as she handed over a plate of brownies. “People are starting to talk. Carol is obsessed.”
Samantha was small and wiry, a pocket-size version of an athlete. She ran marathons, but Madeline forgave her for this flaw because Samantha seemed to say exactly what she thought and she was also one of those people who were completely at the mercy of her own sense of humor. She could frequently be seen around the playground, clutching somebody’s arm to help her stay upright while she laughed helplessly.
Madeline was also fond of Samantha because during the first week of school Chloe had fallen passionately in love with Samantha’s daughter, Lily (a fellow feisty princess). Madeline’s fear that Chloe would befriend Skye had therefore proven unfounded. Thank God. With Abigail’s desertion, it would have been just too much to bear right now if Madeline had to then have her ex-husband’s kid over for playdates.
“Am I the first to arrive?” asked Samantha. “I left home early because I was desperate to get away from my children. I said to Stu, ‘I’ll leave you to it, mate.’”
“You are.” Madeline led her into the living room. “Come and have a drink.”
“Jane is coming, right?” said Samantha.
“Yes, why?” Madeline stopped.
“I just wondered if she knew about this petition that’s circulating.”
“What petition?” Madeline’s teeth began to grind. Jane had told her about the new accusations being made against Ziggy.
Apparently Amabella refused to confirm or deny that it was Ziggy who had been hurting her, and according to Jane, Ziggy behaved oddly when she confronted him about it. Jane didn’t know if that was evidence of his guilt or something else. Yesterday she’d been to the doctor to get a referral to a psychologist, which was probably going to cost her the earth. “I just need to be sure,” she’d told Madeline. “You know, because of his . . . because of his background.”
Madeline had wondered if those three girls, Ziggy’s half sisters, were bullies. Then she’d blushed, ashamed of her ill-begotten knowledge.
“It’s a petition to have Ziggy suspended from the school,” said Samantha with an apologetic grimace, as if she’d stepped on Madeline’s toe.
“What? That’s ridiculous! Renata can’t possibly think people would be so small-minded as to sign it!”
“It wasn’t Renata. I think it was Harper who started it,” said Samantha. “I think they’re quite good friends, right? I’m still getting my head around all the politics of the place.”
“Harper is very good friends with Renata, as she’s quite keen to let you know,” said Madeline. “They bonded over their gifted children.” She picked up her champagne glass and drained it.
“I mean, Amabella seems like a lovely little girl,” said Samantha. “I hate to think of her being secretly bullied, but a petition? To get rid of a five-year-old? It’s outrageous.” She shook her head. “I suppose I don’t know what I’d do if it were Lily in the same situation, but Ziggy seems so adorable with those big green eyes, and Lily says he’s always nice to her. He helped her find her favorite marble or something. Are you going to give me a drink?”
“Sorry,” said Madeline. She poured Samantha a drink. “That explains the strange phone call I just got from Thea. She said she was pulling out of the book club. It seemed a bit odd, because she’d been going on about how she wanted to join a book club, how she needed to ‘do something for herself.’ She was even making some nudge-nudge-wink-wink comments about the raunchy sex scenes in the book, which was, you know, unsettling. But then just ten minutes ago, she called and said she had ‘too many commitments.’”
“She has four children, you know,” said Samantha.
“Oh, yes, it’s a logistical nightmare,” said Madeline.
They laughed wickedly together.
“I’m thirsting to death!” called out Fred from his bedroom.
“Daddy will bring you a glass of water!” called back Madeline.
Samantha stopped laughing. “You know what Lily said to me today? She said, ‘Am I allowed to play with Ziggy?’ and I said, ‘Of course you are,’ and she said—” Samantha stopped. Her voice changed. “Hello, Chloe.”
Chloe stood at the door, clutching her teddy bear.
“I thought you were asleep,” said Madeline sternly, even as her heart melted as it always did at the sight of her children in their pajamas. Ed was meant to be on kid duty while she hosted book club. He’d read the book, but he didn’t want to join the club. He said the idea of book clubs brought back horrible memories of pretentious classmates in English Lit. “If anyone uses the words ‘marvelous imagery’ or ‘narrative arc,’ slap them for me,” he’d told her.
“I was, but Daddy’s snoring woke me up,” said Chloe.
Due to the recent monster infestation of her room, Chloe had developed a new habit where Mummy or Daddy had to lie down with her “just for a few minutes” before she fell asleep. The only problem was that Madeline or Ed inevitably fell asleep too, emerging from Chloe’s room an hour or so later, dazed and blinking.
“Lily’s daddy snores too,” said Samantha to Chloe. “It sounds like a train pulling in.”
“Were you talking about Ziggy?” said Chloe chattily to Samantha. “He was crying today because Oliver’s dad said he had to stay far, far away from Ziggy because Ziggy is a bully.”