77.
If Perry had been just a few inches shorter.
If the balcony railing had been just a few inches higher.
If the bar stool had been at a slightly different angle.
If it hadn’t been raining.
If he hadn’t been drinking.
Afterward Madeline could not stop thinking of all the ways it could have happened differently.
But it happened the way that it happened.
Celeste saw the expression on Perry’s face when Bonnie screamed at him. It was the same mildly amused face as when Celeste lost her temper with him. He liked it when women got angry with him. He liked getting a reaction. He thought it was cute.
She saw his hand grab for the railing and slip.
She saw him flip back, his legs high, like he was romping on the bed with the boys.
And then he was gone without making a sound.
An empty space where he’d been.
It all happened too fast. Jane’s mind was dull with shock. As she groped for comprehension she became aware that there was a commotion going on inside the hall: yells, bangs, thuds.
“Jesus Christ Almighty!” said Ed. He leaned over the balcony railing, both hands gripping the edge as he peered over, his gold Elvis cape stretched out behind him like foolish little wings.
Bonnie had sunk down on to her haunches, her body curved into a ball, her hands clasped tightly over the back of her head as though she were waiting for a bomb to explode.
“No, no, no, no.” Nathan took little agitated steps, dancing around his wife, bending to touch her back and then straightening up and pressing his hands to his temples.
Ed spun around. “I’ll go see if he’s—”
“Ed!” said Renata. She’d dropped the hand holding her mobile phone to her side. The balcony light reflected off her glasses.
“Call an ambulance!” barked Ed.
“Yes,” said Renata. “I am. I will. But um . . . I didn’t see what happened. I didn’t see him fall.”
“What?” said Ed.
Madeline was still on her knees next to Celeste. Jane saw Madeline look straight past Ed at her ex-husband. Nathan’s hair was all sweaty from the wig and stuck to his forehead. He looked at Madeline with distraught, pleading eyes. Madeline looked back at Celeste, who was staring catatonically at the place where Perry had been sitting.
“I don’t think I saw either,” said Madeline.
“Madeline,” said Ed. He pulled angrily at his costume, as if he longed to tear it off. The glitter was coming off onto his hands, turning his palms gold. “Do not—”
“I was looking the other way,” said Madeline. Her voice was stronger. She got to her feet, holding her tiny clutch bag in front of her, her back straight and her chin high, as if she were about to walk into a ballroom. “I was looking inside. I didn’t see.”
Jane cleared her throat.
She thought of the way Saxon—Perry—had said, “It didn’t mean anything.” She looked at Bonnie, cowering near an upturned bar stool. She felt hot liquid anger suddenly cool and harden into something powerful and immovable.
“So was I,” she said. “I didn’t see anything either.”
“Stop this.” Ed glanced at her and back at Madeline. “All of you stop it.”
Celeste reached for Madeline’s hand and pulled herself gracefully to her feet. She straightened her dress and pressed one hand to her face, where Perry had hit her. She looked for a moment at the curled-up form of Bonnie.
“I didn’t see a thing,” she said, and her voice sounded almost conversational.
“Celeste.” Ed’s face crumpled as though in terror. He pressed his hands hard against his temples, and then dropped them. His forehead sparkled gold.
Celeste walked to the edge of the balcony and put her hands on the railing. She looked back at Renata and said, “Call the ambulance now.”
Then she began to scream.
It was easy after all those years of pretending. Celeste was a fine actress.
But then she thought of her children and she didn’t need to pretend anymore.
Stu: All hell had broken loose by this stage. Two blokes were fighting over some French chick, and next thing this four-foot weasel is laying into me because I’d said his wife couldn’t organize a root in a brothel and I’d offended her honor or something. I mean, jeez Louise, it’s just an expression.
Thea: It’s true the argument over standardized testing got a little heated. I have four children, so I do lay claim to some expertise in the matter.
Harper: Thea was shouting like a fishwife.
Jonathan: I was with some Year 4 parents and we got into an argument over the legality and morality of that damned petition. There were some raised voices. Maybe some shoving. Look, I’m not proud of any of this.
Jackie: Give me a vicious corporate takeover any day.
Gabrielle: I was considering cannibalism by this time. Carol looked delicious.
Carol: I was cleaning the kitchen when I heard the most terrible bloodcurdling scream.
Samantha: Ed came running for the stairs and he was shouting something about Perry White falling off the balcony and would someone for the love of God call an ambulance. I looked over at the balcony and saw two Year 5 dads go crashing out through the open door.
“There’s been an accident,” Renata was saying into her mobile phone. She had one finger plugged into her ear so she could hear the person on the other end over the sound of Celeste’s screams. “A man has fallen. From a balcony.”
“It was him?” Madeline took Jane’s arm and pulled her close. “It was Perry who—”
Jane stared at the perfect pink cupid’s bow of Madeline’s lipstick. Two perfect peaks. “Do you think he’s—”
She never got to finish her sentence because that’s when the two grappling white-satin Elvises, their arms wrapped tightly around each other’s backs as if in a passionate embrace, slammed violently into Jane and Madeline, sending them flying in opposite directions.
As Jane fell, she put one hand to save herself and felt something snap with sickening wrongness near her shoulder as she landed hard on her side.
The tiles of the balcony were wet against Jane’s cheek. Celeste’s screams mingled with the far-off sounds of ambulances and the soft sound of Bonnie sobbing. Jane could taste blood in her mouth. She closed her eyes.
Oh, calamity.
Bonnie: The fighting spilled out onto the balcony, and that’s when poor Madeline and Jane got so badly injured. I didn’t see Perry White fall. I . . . Would you excuse me for just a moment, Sarah? Wait, it is Sarah, isn’t it? Not Susan. My mind went blank. Sorry, Sarah. Sarah. A lovely name. It means “princess,” I think. Listen, Sarah, I need to pick up my daughter now.