Page 84 of Guilty Mothers

‘Cut all ties. That may have worked for her, but not me. How was I going to get my mom’s approval if I had nothing to do with her?’

Carly had a good point.

‘How are they, the girls?’ she asked with concern.

Obviously the same old Carly, looking out for her friends.

‘Shocked, distraught, grieving. As you would expect. Regardless of the issues, they’ve all lost their mothers.’

Carly nodded. ‘I hear you.’

Kim had to remind herself that this young woman had only recently lost her own mother and although not in the same circumstances, she was grieving all the same.

Kim thanked her for her time and left her to finalise the end of her business.

As she headed back to the car, Kim had to wonder if there was anyone who had come out of the pageant world unscathed.

FIFTY-FOUR

Olivia tried to hear past the sound of blood rushing through her ears.

It had taken every ounce of energy she possessed to pretend that everything was normal when Logan was nearby. Well, what passed as her version of normal now. Different parts of her body seemed determined to foil her plan before she’d even had the chance to try and execute it.

Her heart was beating so hard she felt it might break out of her chest. Her legs were trembling beneath her plain black trousers, and she was keeping her hands busy washing the same two plates over and over again.

She had to try and listen for the tell-tale sound of the front door closing. She’d only noticed a couple of weeks ago that Logan didn’t lock the front door behind him when he went to collect the wheelie bin from the kerb.

The bins lived around the side of the house, so for just a few seconds, he was out of sight of the unlocked front door. Was it enough for her to get to the end of the path and away without Logan seeing her, giving her an extra few seconds before he realised the house was empty?

Her footwear wasn’t ideal. She only ever wore flip-flops now. Her outside shoes had been locked away a long time ago.

She briefly wondered if she should remove them altogether before she started running. But that wouldn’t work. The gravel from the borders that had been blown onto the path would have her crying out in pain and slow her down. No, she just had to go as fast as she could with them on. She couldn’t risk him hearing her before she even got out the gate.

Who was she kidding? She probably wouldn’t even make it to the gate. She shook the doubts away. She had to make it.

She dared not think of the consequences if he caught her. Her life had become much worse after the last attempt. She was sure if it happened again, he’d likely beat her to death. But the end of her life wasn’t even the worst thing that could happen. At least in death there would be an escape.

The worst thing was the fear. Every living minute was spent in fear of angering him or doing something to set him off. The worst thing was her life continuing exactly as it was now.

Her body tensed as she heard the front door open. She held her breath as the door closed behind him.

Closed but not locked.

She headed for the front door and stood to the side, sneaking a glance through the plain glass panel.

He walked up the path to retrieve the bin. She shot back behind the solid door. If he saw her standing there, he’d know she was up to something.

She heard voices so she snuck another glance. It was Martin, a widower in his early sixties from across the road. Although she couldn’t hear the words being exchanged, she guessed from the body language and his occasional glance to the front door that Martin was enquiring after her.

Please, Martin, not today, she pleaded silently. Her courage was in danger of deserting her at any second. Any delay was increasing her fear of failure. Her fear of being caught. The courage to actually execute her plan was fading.

The voices raised in farewells, followed by the unmistakeable sound of the wheelie bin being pulled down the path.

She pressed herself against the wall as her trembling hand reached for the door handle.

His shadow passed the front window. He had reached the edge of the house. Just another couple of seconds until he was at the farthest point away from the gate and out of sight.

I can’t do it, she thought as nausea rose inside her. Beads of sweat broke out on her forehead. She couldn’t go back now.