I Do, page 21
“Still. You did well. I’ve talked with Phyll and others—they’re all very happy with how you handled things.”
“Now they are. Would they have taken a chance before?”
“I don’t know,” Tarryn admitted. She tugged her hand from Allie’s grasp and cupped her mug. “It’s not right, Allison. You did a great job, but we were paying for an experienced person.”
“Sophie took all my calls and gave advice. She directly worked on everything else—except she wasn’t here in person.”
“Still. Imagine if you call an ambulance and the person who attends isn’t a paramedic but it’s okay, their sister is and she’s on the phone. It’s not the same, of course, but things can go wrong quickly—”
“But they didn’t. Issues that came up—like the portaloos—were sorted.”
“They were,” Tarryn admitted. She folded her arms. “But the fact remains we were paying for an experienced person and got you. And you did a great job, but you—Sophie—should have levelled with us in the start.”
“I know that—now,” she whispered. “I didn’t do it to deceive Quandong—or you. I did it because I love my sister, and she’s in so much pain and struggling to even walk. And this was something I could do to make her situation a little better.” Allie stared at her hand, resting on the table between them. It was all going west. Tarryn’s expression was closed, her voice clipped. Oh, Sophie, I’m so sorry. But she had to go on. There was probably no more damage she could do, and she needed to finish. “There’s more.”
“More?” Tarryn huffed a laugh. “I suppose you’re married with a couple of kids.”
“No! I wouldn’t cheat on anyone. But another reason why I couldn’t say who I was is because Sophie said one reason she was hired was because she was a lesbian. That’s true. She is.” How hard was it to say the next words. “But I’m not. I identified as straight. Now I know I’m not, and I’m very happy accepting that. But Sophie thought Quandong wouldn’t allow her straight twin sister in her place instead of someone who’s part of the community. I’ve always been around queer people, I spend a lot of time in queer spaces, but as an ally, not…” She couldn’t continue. The blank expression on Tarryn’s face surely reflected her anger.
“So you’re gay for pay.” Her words were cold. “And you led all of us on, talking about your girlfriends, identifying as something you’re not. And me…what was I? Some sort of no-strings experimental sex? You’d just had an immersion course in being gay, and now you wanted to try sapphic sex for yourself? Well, fuck you, Allison, I won’t be used like that.”
“No! Please, Tarryn, that’s mostly wrong.”
“Mostly? It sounds all wrong to me. You were straight. And while it’s not for me to tell you how to identify, it’s not looking good.”
“I understand how you’re feeling. But although I identified as straight, while you’re the first woman I’ve slept with, you’re not the first woman I’ve kissed. I kissed a girl once, and I liked it. A lot.”
“You sound like a Katy Perry song. I suppose she wore cherry Chapstick, and you’re about to tell me your boyfriend didn’t mind.” If her voice was anymore biting, it would shred Allie’s skin.
“No. I liked it, but I didn’t seek out more of the same. Maybe I just needed the right person. Maybe I just needed you.” Could her voice be any quieter? She wasn’t even sure if Tarryn had heard the last part.
“So I’m the predatory lesbian who’s led you from the straight and narrow, and you expect me to be proud? Chuffed? Another notch on the bedpost? I’ve had other ‘straight’ women, and they’ve been wonderful. I’m sure at least a couple of them realised some truths about themselves too. But none of them were as much of a liar as you.” She smashed the mug down on the counter and stood. “I’m going, Allison. I’m so very sorry it ended like this, but I’m not sorry I found out exactly what your game was—yours and Sophie’s—before I made a fool of myself. For what it’s worth, I liked you a lot. And here’s your notch on the bedpost—I was going to ask you again to reconsider a long-distance relationship. See if we could have anything together.”
“We can still—”
“No!” Tarryn clenched her fist. “You played me for a fool. Worse, you and your sister played my town for idiots. It’s going to take a bit to get past all of that. I’m going home.”
Allie’s heart fractured and splintered into big, hurting pieces. So this was it. Sophie was right all along; she should never have said anything. She should have said a fond farewell, walked away, driven back to Sydney and tried to forget all about Tarryn, about Quandong. Then she’d leave with good memories, happy times, the feeling she’d done something good for the town. Not this. Not this sour taste, this bitter finish to her time here. “Will you tell Phyll? About who I am and why Sophie couldn’t be here?”
“What do you think?” Tarryn snapped. “Should I just keep silent and let her think you fart rainbows? That you’re the great event planner?”
“I understand.” Her misery was complete. Three weeks here and she was leaving Sophie’s business in a more perilous state than before she came.
“Do you? I get the impression you’d be happy if I just shut up and didn’t say anything.” Tarryn’s fist clenched on the leather thong at her throat. “Listen, Allison. I’m angry, yes, and I’m angry you’ve duped Quandong. But you did do a good job, and the festival was a success. But the final straw for me is you duped me about yourself. You weren’t honest with me. And you haven’t been honest with yourself.” Her expression eased a fraction. “For what it’s worth, I’m so sorry things ended this way. I hope you’re able to be true to yourself going forward.”
Allie stared. What could she possibly say in response? She wouldn’t beg, wouldn’t apologise—again. She nodded once and watched, her heart in pieces around her feet, as Tarryn picked up her things and went to the top of the stairs.
“Goodbye, Allie. Be happy.” She turned and clattered down the stairs. Her truck door slammed, and the engine started.
Allie wrapped her arms around her middle as if she could hold in the hurt and turned away from the window. Her fledgling feelings lay rejected on the floor. She couldn’t watch Tarryn drive away. Instead, she turned back to the room and set about finishing her packing.
* * *
She had to call Sophie.
Three hours out of Quandong, Allie pulled into a service station beside the Pacific Highway and picked up her phone. There was a text message notification. Maybe it was Sophie.
Maybe it was Tarryn, asking her to return.
Allie pushed her phone into her bag and swung out the car. She needed coffee and something to eat if she was to get back to Sydney that night. Whatever the text was, it would read better with coffee.
She found a quiet spot in the food court and settled with a coffee and a sandwich. Her churning stomach wouldn’t allow her more. She weighed her phone in her hand. The text had to be from Sophie or from Tarryn, and she didn’t know which would be the best option. She took a deep breath and swiped her phone open.
The text was from Sophie.
Hey, I know you’ve been busy after the festival “debriefing” with your assistant ;) so I haven’t bothered you, but I’m dying to know how it all ended up. When will you be back home? Love you. Soph xo. PS You kissing Tarryn was on the news. That’s how I know you’re busy. That was NOT a duty kiss. PPS I love you.
She set down the phone and picked up the coffee, pushing aside the sandwich. The coffee was lukewarm, but it was still warmer than her. That explained Sophie’s silence. She should be glad to hear from her sister—and she was. But the knot of misery tightened her abdominal muscles until the coffee churned alarmingly in her stomach. She couldn’t help wishing it had been from Tarryn.
Allie picked up the phone again and shot off a quick text to Sophie saying she’d be back in Sydney in a few hours and she’d catch up with her tomorrow. She put the phone down again and forced herself to unwrap the sandwich and take a bite. Her phone pinged with an incoming text, and she snatched it up.
Looking forward to it. Come for brekky. Early as you can make it. Can’t wait to hear how things went.
She sent a thumbs up. Her stomach rebelled again, and she rewrapped the sandwich to take with her.
Her life was in Sydney. Her sister, her friends, hopefully a new job. Maybe someone new to date.
Maybe a woman.
Chapter 25
Returning to her poky apartment hadn’t helped. Allie had turned on the light and been struck by its dinginess. The low ceilings pressed in on her, and the air had a stale, musty smell. She’d climbed into bed, checked her phone for a final time, then turned it off.
The next morning, she dragged herself out bed to shower and wash her hair and then picked up some pastries from the local coffee shop. But there was nothing she could do about her emotions. Her mind swirled in a grey mist; her heart hung as a deadweight in her chest.
She used her key to let herself into Sophie’s place. “Hi,” she called.
A head popped out Sophie’s bedroom. “Hi, Allie.” Bree entered the hallway. “It’s been a while.”
Of course. Sophie had said Bree was staying for a couple of weeks. She stretched her mouth into the semblance of a smile. “It has. How have you been?”
“I’m doing better now. Things weren’t good for a while.” She pushed her hair from her black-skinned face. “Maybe we can talk later? Right now, Soph is dying to see you. Now you’re here, I’ll go and sort out breakfast. You’re probably starving—I bet there was hardly anything in your apartment.”
“You’re right.” She held out the bag of pastries. “My contribution.”
Bree peeped into the bag. “Ooh, you’ve been to The Pink Bean. Fantastic. Thanks.” She carried on down the hallway to the kitchen.
Allie took a deep breath and went into Sophie’s room. Time to face the music.
Sophie was in bed, propped up on pillows, her injured leg resting on top of the covers. Her face had gained some colour since Allie had last seen her, and the shadow of pain around her eyes seemed less.
“Allie! Oh my God, it feels like forever. Give me a proper hug.” Sophie held out her arms, and Allie bent to hug her around the shoulders. Sophie’s hair smelled fresh, floral, as it always used to before the accident, and she clung tightly for a few long moments before releasing her. “Bree’s giving us some time alone, so I want to hear everything: the festival, the people, how it all ended up. And I particularly want to hear about you and Tarryn. I saw you on the news, and, of course, so did a lot of my friends. They’ve been calling, asking how come I was up in Quandong, because, of course, the news gave my name, not yours.”
Allie pulled the bedside chair around so she could face Sophie. “I’ve a lot to tell you. Not all is good.” She pressed her lips together but couldn’t entirely stop their tremble. “I hope you’re still talking to me when I’ve finished.”
Sophie reached for Allie’s hand and linked their fingers together. “You’re my sister. My shared heart. Nothing you tell me could change my love for you. Nothing. And nothing can be so bad we can’t face it together.”
Allie dropped her head, unable to look Sophie in the face. She blinked fiercely, willing the tears not to fall, but one tracked its way down her nose to drop on their joined hands. “I hope you still think that when I’ve finished talking.”
“Talk. I love you.”
Allie heaved a deep breath and filled her in on the festival and the fake wedding. She looked up at Sophie, blurry through her tears. “I told her who I was, that I was pretending to be you so as to save your business. And I told her I’d always thought I was straight.” She stared back down at her hand again, linked with Sophie’s. “I admitted I was wrong.”
“What happened?”
“She was furious. Angry we’d duped Quandong—they’d paid for an experienced event planner—they paid for you. And they got me, who was winging it more than a fried chicken shop. But even more, she accused me of faking being gay. And she was right.”
“Not entirely. You thought you were straight; you realised you weren’t. She can’t blame you for that.”
“But still. I was pretending to be you, talking as if I was you. As if I were a lesbian. Gay for pay, she called it.”
“You care for her,” Sophie said softly. “I can see it in your face.”
“I do.” Those words again. They seemed to be coming up in her life a lot.
“And it’s not just because she’s a woman? A new and exciting experience?”
“No!” The knot of unhappiness that was her heart twisted tighter. If only that was all it had been. If it had been novelty, a simple one-night stand, she wouldn’t feel like this now. Like she was covered in a grey net of misery.
Sophie nodded slowly. “I’m so sorry, Allie. I wish I’d never sent you there in my place.”
Allie shook her head. “Then I wouldn’t have discovered this about myself. I wouldn’t have—” Wouldn’t have met Tarryn. And that would have been worse. She closed her eyes, and Tarryn’s face flashed into her mind. Not as she last saw it, twisted with hurt and anger, but open and alight with pleasure in her bed. The softness of her skin, the steel of her convictions. Her loyalty to Quandong and the people she cared about. “She’s the whole package, Sophie. For me, at least.”
“And there’s no way back to her?”
“I can’t see one. I just have to move on. Rebuild my life in Sydney. Maybe I’ll sign up on a dating app.”
“To match with men?”
“Men, women, nonbinary. At least being in Quandong opened me to that.” Allie hesitated. “There’s more. Tarryn said she’d tell Phyll about our deception.”
“Were people unhappy about the job you did?”
“No, but all the same, it was misrepresentation. Fraud, maybe.”
Sophie nodded. “I should never have sent you alone. At the least, I should have explained I was sending you in my place.”
Allie took her hand away and clenched it in her lap. “Tarryn said they would have understood. And I think they would have.”
“But we didn’t know at the time.” Sophie sighed. “What a mess. I’m so sorry, Al, I got you into this. It’s up to me to try to fix it.”
“I don’t think you can. She was so furious. She doesn’t want anything to do with me. And once Phyll hears about what happened, I think she’ll be livid as well.”
“This is what we’ll do.” Sophie jutted her chin. “I’ll get out this damn bed. We’ll go and have breakfast because any minute Bree is going to yell it’s ready. And I still have to tell you about Bree. Over breakfast, you can tell me all about the festival: what went wrong, how you fixed it. The ideas you came up with, the extra work you did—and I know you put in way more than you had to. Then I’ll call Phyll, try to repair the damage. I’ll offer a thirty per cent reduction on my fee.”
“No!” Allie’s gasp strangled in her throat. “You’ll make a loss. I know you already cut the price to the bone. If you do it for a third less—”
“It’s the right thing to do. I should have done it at the start rather than asking you to go in blind.”
“But your business.” She spread her hands. “Your house. You won’t be able to keep up the mortgage payments. You said—”
“I know what I said.” Sophie’s lips twisted. “But things will be worse if I don’t do this. Worse for my business in the long term, and worse for you now.”
“It’s too late for me.”
“You don’t know that.” Sophie flung back the bedclothes and used her hands to lift her injured leg to the floor. “Now, find me some clothes. I’m going to get dressed.”
Allie lifted her chin. “I’ll call Phyll. Quandong came to mean a lot. Maybe she’ll listen to me.”
Sophie eyed her for a moment. “Are you sure? Because this is my mess to fix.”
“Yes. I need to do this.”
“Okay, then. But still offer the fee reduction.”
“Five minutes!” Bree called down the hall. “Come and get it.”
“What did I tell you?”
Allie went to the drawers and pulled out undies and a T-shirt. “These do?” She added the shorts that were hanging over a chair.
“Yeah, thanks.”
Allie waited as Sophie struggled to pull on undies and the shorts without knocking her leg. When she was ready, she handed her the crutches. “Are you back with Bree?”
“Sort of. As much as anyone can be when they’re restricted like this.” Her mouth turned down. “But, yes, we’ve made up, and she’s said she’s with me for the long haul. She’s being great, Allie. I couldn’t do without her.”
“She’s changed? The Bree I remember was a lot more”—she picked her words carefully—“self-absorbed.”
“I think so. And I want to try again. I still love her, Al. I tried to get past her, even before this.” She gestured to leg. “I’m just hoping not to get my heart broken—again.”
Ain’t that the truth. Allie sighed. That was all most people could do. For her, it was already too late. Hopefully, Sophie would find her happiness.
* * *
“She lied to me, Will. Straight-out lied about who she was. She’s Allison, not Sophie, and she’s straight.” Tarryn tipped the last of the red wine into her mouth.
Garrett refilled it and shot a glance at his partner.
“She doesn’t sound very straight to me. I can’t remember your exact words, but ‘great sex’ was in there, along with ‘amazing lover.’” Will rested a hand on hers where it lay on the counter.
“She said she’d kissed a woman before and liked it but didn’t do anything else.”
