The Aftermath by Gail Schimmel (free ebook reader for ipad .TXT) 📕

my phone and call Daniel, but it goes straight to voicemail.

‘Daniel,’ I say, ‘I’m sorry if I didn’t make you feel loved yesterday. Please come home now.’ I laugh. ‘And anyway,’ I say, ‘you need a jersey.’

I put the phone down, wondering where Daniel slept last night. Or did he sleep with me, and then wake up drunk and leave? As I’m trying to figure it out, my phone beeps.

I’m surprised – it’s a message from Daniel – even though his phone was off a moment ago.

I’m sorry, Julia. This is what I need to do.

I immediately dial his number, but it goes straight to voicemail again.

I look at his WhatsApp profile: he’s offline.

I sit down slowly on my bed.

Daniel has left me.

The realisation comes slowly, but I know that it’s true.

But where would he go?

Like a punch, I know. He’s gone back to Claire. Without even thinking much about what I’m doing, I dial Claire’s number. Her phone goes straight to voicemail too.

That’s all I need. I feel sick, and only just make it to the toilet before I vomit. Daniel has left me. They must be together, laughing about foolish Julia.

I don’t know what to do next, so I lie down in my bed. My bed, I think, that was never really our bed. I expect to lie there tormented, but I fall asleep.

When I wake up a few hours later, I know what I need to do.

I need to go to my mother.

Claire

I wake up with the sun streaming through a gap in the curtains onto my bed. Mackenzie is curled up in the bed next to me, fast asleep, her mouth slightly open, with a small patch of drool pooling on the pillow. We went to sleep late, and the sun already seems to be high in the sky. I watch her sleep for a while – wondering when I last took the time to just breathe her in. I’ve been so focused on survival since Daniel left that I’ve barely been present in my life. I lean down and inhale the smell of little girl and shampoo and a slightly sour morning breath.

‘What are you doing, Mummy?’ Mackenzie says without opening her eyes.

‘Smelling you,’ I say.

‘You are very weird, Mummy,’ says Mackenzie, still lying with her eyes closed. ‘Are we still in Maurish?’

‘We are. I’m thinking we should get up and have some breakfast and go exploring. What do you think?’

‘What do Maurishes have for breakfast?’

‘I’m not sure, but I think you can pretty much have anything you want.’

Mackenzie opens her eyes. ‘Anything?’

‘Well, not chocolate. Or Coke.’

‘A whole plate of bacon?’

‘Sure.’

‘And messed eggs?’

‘Definitely.’

‘And choccy milk?’

‘Pretty sure we can get that.’

Mackenzie smiles. ‘Let’s go, Mummy. What are we waiting for?’

‘Maybe we should put on some clothes instead of pyjamas,’ I suggest.

‘That’s a bad thing about hotels, eh?’ says Mackenzie, making me laugh.

We get dressed and go to the hotel dining room, where we opt for an outside table overlooking the pool and the sea. I take Mackenzie into the restaurant and show her how the buffet works, and what all the different choices are. We debate which fruit juice looks nicer, and whether we should start or end our breakfast with pancakes. Eventually, after Mackenzie decides to start with pancakes and I opt for a bowl of fresh fruit, we go back to the table. The waitress brings me some tea, and Mackenzie a chocolate milk. I feel completely relaxed as I take my first sip of tea.

‘Mummy,’ says Mackenzie, ‘can I have juice and milk?’

‘Sure, baby,’ I say. ‘Can you get it yourself, do you think?’

‘Yes!’ yells Mackenzie, excited by this high level of responsibility. I smile as she runs into the restaurant, her hair swinging behind her, catching the sun.

I close my eyes for a moment. This was totally, absolutely the very best thing I could have done for Mackenzie and me. It’s almost that being in a different country from Julia and Daniel has liberated me. Freed me to be myself; and to finally see clearly that I’m happy on my own. I have a good life. Daniel is charming and funny and charismatic, but life with him was always all about him and his needs. It’s taken him leaving me to see that, but now I realise that I’m actually happier without Daniel.

I stretch, eyes still closed, making a promise to myself that this is the beginning of everything.

A shadow falls over the table and I open my eyes, squinting as I readjust to the light.

‘Morning, babe.’

Daniel is looking down at me.

Helen

Julia was two when The Accident happened. Mike had won an incentive week in a private game reserve that we would never have been able to afford ourselves, and it was a great opportunity, but Julia was just a bit too young. She was furious when we decided to leave her with my parents, even though it meant that she would have them all to herself for once. Mike and I argued about whether leaving Julia out of the trip was the right thing to do. We’d been arguing, in our gentle way, ever since we’d made the decision to go ahead and book it. I was adamant that Julia was too young for hours of looking at animals. A four-year-old could be entertained and would like the animals, but it was too much for a two-year-old, I said. And malaria, I argued, although Mike very reasonably pointed out that we were not going to a malaria area.

Fighting was never our way, and Mike was never happy about the decision.

We dropped Julia in the afternoon. It took longer to settle her than we’d expected, and we were worried about the time when we left. Before we went, I phoned the game lodge from my mum’s phone. They said not to worry, we could check in any time, the reception was open twenty-four hours a day.

‘It’s probably better,’ Mike said. ‘It’s more