Justine

'So how long have you lived here?'

'A couple of years.'

'Do you like it?'

'Not really. I'd like to move to a nicer neighbourhood but -' she broke off, glancing briefly at me, 'but you don't want to hear all of that.'

'Yes, I do. I'm a good listener and I'm interested.'

'I think you are,' she said, 'but it's another sad story and one a night is enough. If you pull up here it will be close enough.'

'Are you sure? I'm happy to drop you at your door.'

'No, that's fine. I just go through the little laneway to the left and my house is two minutes away.' She watched as I drew up beside the kerb before turning to me. 'You've been very kind Mr. Andrews -'

'Paul. If you are looking after our daughter you are part of our family.'

'Paul, then. Well, thank you -'

'I'll wait here. If you have any trouble come straight back. Are you sure I can't walk with you?'

She smiled at me, her teeth very white in the dim light. 'I'll be fine. Thank you again.'

I watched as she opened the door and got out, a slim figure under the street lamps walking briskly down the road before she turned and was lost to sight.

***

Over the next few weeks we settled into a routine. Nikky and I are both busy and sometimes we were out three or four times a week and Justine was there, as reliable as a rock, knocking on our door in a faded dress and old shoes, smiling at each of us as she came in over the step. She'd lost a lot of that early shyness - with me anyway - and we would always exchange a few words and a laugh whilst Nikky was getting ready to go out; and afterwards I'd take her home. I didn't realise until later what was happening.

We had a cold snap in September and Justine arrived in a thin coat that didn't match anything until I took pity on her and gave her one of our fleeces, but she never complained and Emma adored her. Now that she was more comfortable with me she'd speak freely in the car, with stories of her early years and her hopes for the future; but she never mentioned her life in that shabby little street, and she never let me stop at her door.

'It's silly,' she would say in that quiet way she had. 'I can get there in two minutes and you'd have to drive right round the one-way system.' I knew there wasn't a one-way system, but I let it go.

One night I was driving her home and we talked, as we always did.

'So tell me what you are doing now, Justine,' I asked.

'I'm with you in this car.' There was laughter in her voice.

'Really? But what are you doing tomorrow, and the next day, and the one after that? Are you working? Are you at school? What do you do all day long?'

'I do things,' she said defensively. 'Why do you want to know?'

'Because you're a mystery. You're young, attractive and on the brink of the rest of your life - but you never talk about it. Not ever, and I've never met a teenager who doesn't talk about her friends, her social life, and what dances she goes to.'

'Perhaps because I don't want to.'

'And I get that. But you know us well now Justine, and friends tell each other stuff.' I glanced at her, trying to read her expression but her face was turned away from me. 'Look - I don't mean to pry and you can tell me to get lost, but I get the feeling that your whole life is on hold, ticking away with no purpose, and if I'm right that's a tragedy.'

She didn't answer and we drove in silence, turning left into Addison Street and stopping at the lamp post just short of her laneway. She didn't get out of the car though - she just sat there, staring through windscreen without a sound.

'Justine -'

'You're right.' Her voice was utterly expressionless. 'My life is on hold, and I don't like it much at all, but one day it will be over and I can start again. Right now I need you to just let me be.'

My voice was harsh. 'Are you doing anything illegal? Anything that could harm our daughter?'

'Is that what you think?' She turned and stared at me silently for a moment, her lips slightly apart and the gleam of her little white teeth behind them, and an expression in her eyes I'd not seen before. 'Don't friends trust each other?'

'But you're more than a friend.' The words came out of my mouth before I could stop them. 'I...uh, we - have grown very fond of you over the past months, Justine. We can help, if you let us.'

She smiled then, a little twitch of the lips. 'I don't think Nikky is that fond of me, Paul -' she held up her hand to silence my protest. 'No, wait - hear me out. I'm not your average teenager. I've had to grow up quickly and I live on my wits, and I can read people pretty well. I've seen the way she looks at me.'

'You're imagining things. She thinks the world of you.'

Justine shook her head. 'I don't think so. She's happy with my work but she doesn't like me.'

'And what about me? Do you think the same about me?'

'You?' Her voice softened. 'No. I think you like me a little too much.'

It was an extraordinary thing to say and opened my mouth to respond but nothing came out. I guess up to that point I'd seen her as a just a teenage kid with little life experience, but I suddenly understood that this young woman sitting beside me had a depth I hadn't even begun to fathom. And the thing was, she was right: I did think about her a lot - more than a married man should, and I couldn't help it.

'I don't know what you mean.' I said at last.

'Yes, you do,' she said gently. 'You look at me sometimes, when you think I'm not paying attention, and I can read every thought in your mind - and I think its lovely.' She glanced at her watch. 'Now - you'd better get home or Nikky will think I've seduced you.'

'That's not likely to happen - I'm nearly twice your age.'

Justine laughed softly. 'You're not twice my age so don't exaggerate.' She opened the door and stepped out before leaning in through the open window, her eyes on mine. 'You're twenty-eight next November Paul, which makes you less than ten years older than me,' she said, 'and there's a lot to be said for older men. I think Nikky is right to be worried, don't you?' And before I could answer she was gone.

I drove home that night in a turmoil, thinking of her - of those beautiful eyes set in a face of such perfect symmetry you could hardly take your eyes off it; of that long and graceful neck and the way her hair curled around it, and the way she spoke - each word wrapped in velvet; and I thought of what she had said: There's a lot to be said for older men. What did she mean? Was it just a throw-away line, or was it more than that? The words had been picked carefully, I was sure, and they had been underlined by the final look she had given me before turning away. A glance full of meaning; eyes shining, like mirrors into her soul - not hard in rejection, but soft with complicity. If I chose to, it was a glance that could be interpreted that she was ready to move forward. Nikky will think I've seduced you...she is right to be worried.

I trudged up to the bedroom and Nikky was there again, lying naked on the bed waiting for me. There was a kind of desperation in her lovemaking I'd never detected before, and she talked about Justine all the way through it.

***

Up to that point I had no idea that things were about to get difficult, but the following morning it happened.

'You were a long time last night,' Nikky said. There were shadows under her eyes and her face was pale.

'I was back by eleven.'

'So what did Little Miss Muffet have to say in the car?'

'Who?

'Justine - you know, the one who'd you'd like to sit on your Tuffet.'

'I hardly think so. She's got her own problems. The last thing she wants is an affair with a married man.'

'So you've talked about it!'

I almost laughed out loud. It was so unlike Nikky to be jealous, and yet it seemed she was.

'If you mean did we discuss getting it on, the answer is no. I did try and find out a little about her life, though, but she didn't say much.'

'So why do you think she's got problems?' There was a brittle tone to her voice.

'She said her life is on hold and she doesn't like it. And she's the first teenager I've met who never talks about her friends or what she's doing. It's almost as if she's being held hostage over something.' I sat on the edge of the bed and regarded my wife. 'She also thinks you don't like her much.'

'Maybe she's right.'

'Why the hell not? She's done nothing to you.'

Nikky shrugged. 'You wanting to fuck her brains out doesn't help.'

'That's ridiculous. I haven't laid a finger on her.'

'But you'd like to - admit it. I can see it in your eyes every time she's here.'

'I see a lot of attractive women I'd like to fuck, but that doesn't mean I will.'

'That's different. This one comes into our house and she fancies you, too. I can almost hear her pussy squelching every time she's near you.'

I burst out laughing. 'Jesus, Nikky! Listen to yourself! She's flat broke and needs the work and I'm a married man with a kid. And its you that likes to talk about her, not me.'

'That's not true!'

'Sure it is. Since Emma was born our sex life dwindled almost to nothing, but suddenly you're at me like a nympho. Hey, don't get me wrong - I love it, but it seems a bit odd. And when we do it you talk about her all the way though: how you and she could get it on while I fuck you doggie, how her little snatch would taste; how she'd bend down and take it in the -'

'That's just pillow talk!' There was a flush of high colour in her cheeks. 'You and I have always talked about other people when we fuck. What about you and Charlize -'

'Sure. But I don't go on about her - not like you and Justine. Ever since she walked into this house you've fantasized about her. It's almost like you want her, not me.'

'That's ridiculous! She's nothing but a two-bit tramp. Why would I want her?'

'Jesus, Nikky!' I could feel irritation rising in me like a hot tide. 'She's just a kid, and she's done nothing to deserve that label. If you ask me she needs help and understanding rather than scorn.'

Nikky leaned towards me, her face screwed up in anger. 'Well, I'm not asking you! Why would I? You're so wrapped up in her you can't even see her for what she is. Well, I'm telling you - she's not all she seems to be.'

'Do you have anything to prove it, or is this just something you think because you don't like her?'

'Why don't you ask her who she was out with at lunch last Thursday, and then tell me she's not on the game!'

'What do you mean?'

She sat at the dresser and began brushing her hair, long strokes teasing out the tangles of sleep but I could see her watching me in the mirror. 'I saw her in that restaurant next to Myers last week, your little miss perfect,' she said maliciously. 'She was made up to the nines and was with a guy who was remarkable because his tongue was hanging out on the table. And she wasn't being coy with him either.'

'You're sure it was her?'

'As large as life,' Nikky said. 'I was on the mezzanine level, looking down on the main restaurant floor and I spotted her sitting in the far corner with him. She wouldn't have noticed me, but I could sure as hell see her, wearing a little black dress you'd pay two or three hundred bucks for in a good shop. She had her hair up, too, and enough jewelry to sink a ship. It doesn't sound like a girl on the bones of her bum, does it?'

'So who was he?'

Nikky shrugged. 'Stuffed if I know. Old and fat. You'd think with her looks she could do better.'

'You're being judgmental. It could have been her Dad, for all you know.'

'If he was her Dad he sure liked touching her, and had the look of a guy who's about to get laid. Trust me, as a woman I know that look.'

I sat and thought for a moment. Nikky had had a very active sex life before I met her and I wasn't going to question her judgement on that score. Besides, this wasn't a story that she would make up, despite her obvious dislike of the girl, and so I had to accept it at face value. It didn't mean that Justine was up to no good though - there could be any number of explanations as to who the guy was and what they were doing. Besides, it was really none of our business. She was nothing more than a baby sitter and provided she did that well and without risk to Emma then her private life was her own affair.

'So what are you going to do about it?' Nikky demanded. She had stopped brushing her hair and had turned towards me.

'Nothing. She's a good baby sitter and Emma likes her. What she does in her time is her own business.'

'That's just what I thought you'd say,' she said, 'but I'll be watching her - don't you worry about that.'

***

Over the next month we only saw Justine once, and Nikky took her home - I guess because she didn't trust me. I don't know what time she got back because I was asleep, and up and gone before she woke. Our sex life dropped off again after that, but frankly I was too busy to worry about it much, and I guess the seeds of doubt that Nikky had sowed was moving me towards finding someone else to look after Emma, much as I liked the girl. That might have been the end of it all, but a week or two later fate was to take us on a different path.

It was a Monday, and I got the call just after four to say that Nikky had been involved in a car accident and was in hospital. I'd just picked up Emma from day care and I rang Justine right away to see if she could help us. She was there within twenty minutes so she must have been close by.

'How is Nikky?' she said as I opened the door. She'd had drawn her hair back with a rubber band and I could see the soft skin of her shoulder and neck as she stood on the step, her face creased in concern.

'I'm not sure. They are operating now. Early indication is that the injuries are not life threatening, but I need to be with her as soon as she comes out of theatre.'

She put her bag on the table and slipped off her coat. 'Go', she said, 'and don't worry about Emma.'

'I'm not sure how long I'll be, Justine. Can you stay over if I'm very late?'

'Sure. I'm free tomorrow too. Now go.'

As I sat in the hospital waiting room my thoughts were with Nikky, of course. We'd only been married four years and, as you do in times of crisis, I wondered what I would do if I lost her. I remembered how we'd met, and the wedding; and the early days of setting up home and planning a family. The day she'd told me she was pregnant was the best of my life, and we'd watched the birth together. Since then the gloss had come off the marriage a bit, but I'd just assumed it was the stress of bringing up child when we were both working at our separate careers.

An image of the girl popped into my mind. I thought she'd looked tired as she stood on my step that morning, with dark bruises of exhaustion under her eyes and perhaps a tinge of desperation in them. It seemed there were things happening in her life that shouldn't, and I'd been too busy to try and help - or even to talk to her about them. Nikky's accident was a complication but that shouldn't stop me.

My thoughts were interrupted by a policeman standing next to me. 'Mr. Andrews?'

'Yes?'

'I'm Sergeant Mills, sir. I'm sorry to bother you at such a difficult time but I thought you'd want to know what happened to your wife. I was the attending officer at the accident.' 'Yes, yes. I would. Is she OK?'

'She was when they brought her in, sir, although in a lot of pain. I understand they are operating now. I'm sure the doctors will bring you up to date as soon as they can.'

'Yes, I'm sure they will. What was wrong with her?'

'The main injury was a fracture of the ankle, and concussion.' I'm told she's not seriously injured.' He gave me a sympathetic glance. 'I'm sorry, Sir...I thought the hospital would have told you of her condition.'

'No, no, they didn't.' A feeling of immense relief washed over me. Nikky was hurt, but it didn't sound too bad, and of course Emma wasn't in the car at all. It could have been so much worse. 'Can you tell me what happened, Sergeant?'

He consulted his notebook. 'Her vehicle was involved in a collision with a Honda Civic in Westbury this afternoon just opposite number 15 Duke Street. The ambulance got the call at three-ten and arrived shortly before me. Your wife was one of two persons injured. The other was the driver of the Honda. Both were taken to Saint Luke's Hospital where she was admitted at four twenty.'

It didn't make sense. Nikky had told me she'd be in meetings all afternoon and I shouldn't phone her. Maybe something had come up to change that - but even if it had, what was she doing in Westbury? It was to the north of where we lived, and miles from her work. Perhaps -

'Is there anything more I can help you with sir?' the Sergeant was regarding me closely.

'No, thank you. I'm very grateful to you for letting me know.'

He'd no sooner left than the surgeon appeared to tell me that the operation had gone well. Apparently she'd suffered a fractured ankle with associated tissue damage. 'It's a common enough injury in low speed side impacts,' he ventured. 'The side air bags do a good job but they don't protect the lower limbs. I've pinned the bone and I expect both that and the tissue to heal without complication, although it will take a while.'

'Is that all?'

'Aside from mild concussion, yes. We'll keep her in for observation tonight.'

'Can I see her?'

'She's in the recovery room now. The ward sister will let you know when she's ready.' He regarded me briefly. 'I'm afraid I have other people waiting so I have to go - but if you have any questions please don't hesitate to contact me.'

A little while later one of the ward sisters called me. Nikky was in a private ward and was lying motionless, her head swathed in bandages. She was hooked up to a bank of monitors and what I could see of her face was very pale. 'It looks a lot worse than it is,' the nurse said. 'She's still groggy from the anesthetic and the Hydromorphine Infusion, but her vital signs are all good,' she smiled encouragingly. 'Just call me if you need anything.'

I sat for a while with her but she was sleeping, so I left her there and went home to Emma, and on the way I made a phone call, and it confirmed everything I'd feared.

***

It would never have happened if Nikky hadn't had the accident. She'd have been at home with me and Justine would have been in hers - or somewhere else, at least. I wouldn't have been emotionally shell shocked, and I wouldn't have seen what I did when I got home. At least that's what I told myself the next day, but maybe I was just making excuses.

I parked the car around the back of the house and entered quietly though the kitchen in case Justine had gone to bed. She was still up, though, standing in the lounge looking out of the window. I didn't want to startle her so I called her name softly and she turned towards me.

It was one of those moments of startling clarity when every tiny detail is instantly etched into your mind. The glossy curtain of her hair shining in the light as she turned; fear in her eyes at the unexpected intruder; the sudden intake of breath between those perfect, full lips; the set of her body poised for flight. And I saw that she was weeping, her eyes red and the tracks of her tears like silver threads upon her cheeks. For a second there was a look of wretchedness upon her face before shame and confusion replaced it; and then she wiped her eyes in a gesture of defiance, and she raised her face to meet my startled gaze.

For a long moment we stared at each other, and in her expression I saw vulnerability and helplessness and a silent cry for help; and in mine I suppose she saw utter misery, although she could not have known its source. And in that second each of us understood there was comfort to be found in the other and there was absolutely nothing to stop us from taking it.