Jane was silent. She was probably thinking that Celeste was a spoiled trophy wife.

“I’m lucky,” said Celeste. “I don’t have to work. Perry is . . . well, he’s a hedge fund manager.”

Now she sounded show-offy, when she’d meant to sound grateful. Conversations with women about work could be so fraught. If Madeline had been there, she would have said, “Perry earns a shitload, so Celeste can live a life of leisure.” And then she would have done a typical Madeline about-face and said something about how bringing up twin boys wasn’t exactly a life of leisure and that Celeste probably worked harder than Perry.

Perry liked Madeline. “Feisty,” he called her.

“I have to start doing some sort of exercise routine while Ziggy is at school,” said Jane. “I’m so unfit. I get breathless going up a tiny slope. It’s terrible. Everyone around here is so fit and healthy.”

“I’m not,” said Celeste. “I do no exercise at all. Madeline is always after me to go to the gym with her. She’s crazy for those classes, but I hate gyms.”

“Me too,” said Jane with a grimace. “Big sweaty men.”

“We should go walking together when the kids are at school,” said Celeste. “Around the headland.”

Jane gave her a quick, shy, surprised grin. “I’d love that.”

Harper: You know how Jane and Celeste were supposedly great friends? Well, obviously it wasn’t all roses, because I did overhear something at the trivia night, quite by accident. It must have been only minutes before it happened. I was going out on the balcony to get some fresh air—well, to have a cigarette, if you must know, because I had a number of things on my mind—anyway, Jane and Celeste were out there, and Celeste was saying, “I’m sorry. I’m just so, so sorry.”

It was about an hour before school pickup when Samira, Madeline’s boss at the Pirriwee Theatre, called to discuss marketing for the new production of King Lear. Just before she hung up (finally! Madeline didn’t get paid for the time she spent on these phone calls, and if her boss offered to pay, she’d have said no, but still, it would have been nice to have had the opportunity to graciously refuse), Samira mentioned that she had a “whole stack” of complimentary front-row Disney On Ice tickets if Madeline wanted them.

“When for?” asked Madeline, looking at her wall calendar.

“Um, let’s see. Saturday, February twenty-eighth, two p.m.”

The box on the calendar was empty, but there was something familiar about the date. Madeline reached for her handbag and pulled out the pink envelope that Chloe had given her that morning.

Amabella’s A party was at two p.m., Saturday, February 28.

Madeline smiled. “I’d love them.”

Thea: The invitations for Amabella’s party went out first. And then next thing, that very same afternoon, Madeline is handing out free tickets for Disney On Ice, like she’s Lady Muck.

Samantha: Those tickets cost a fortune, and Lily was so desperate to go. I didn’t realize it was the same day as Amabella’s party, but then again, Lily didn’t know Amabella from a bar of soap, so I felt bad, but not that bad.

Jonathan: I always said the best part of being a stay-at-home dad was leaving behind all the office politics. Then first day of school I get caught up in some war between these two women!

Bonnie: We went to Amabella’s party. I think Madeline forgot to offer us one of the Disney tickets. I’m sure it was just an oversight.

Detective-Sergeant Adrian Quinlan: We’re talking to parents about everything that went on at that school. I can assure you it wouldn’t be the first time that a dispute over a seemingly inconsequential matter led to violence.

22.

Three Months Before the Trivia Night

Celeste and Perry sat on the couch, drinking red wine, eating Lindt chocolate balls and watching their third episode in a row of The Walking Dead. The boys were sound asleep. The house was quiet, except for the crunch of footsteps coming from the television. The main character was creeping through the forest, his knife drawn. A zombie appeared from behind a tree, her face black and rotting, her teeth snapping, making that guttural sound that zombies apparently make. Celeste and Perry both jumped and screamed. Perry spilled some of his red wine.

He dabbed at the splash of wine on his T-shirt. “That scared the life out of me.”

The man on the screen drove his knife through the zombie’s skull.

“Gotcha!” said Celeste.

“Pause it while I get us a refill,” said Perry.

Celeste picked up the remote and paused the DVD. “This is even better than last season.”

“I know,” said Perry. “Although I think it gives me bad dreams.”

He brought over the bottle of wine from the sideboard.

“Are we going to some kid’s birthday party tomorrow?” he asked as he refilled her glass. “I ran into Mark Whittaker at Catalinas today and he seemed to think we were going. He said the mother mentioned we were invited. Renata somebody. Actually, did I meet a Renata that day when I went to the school with you?”

“You did,” said Celeste. “We were invited to Amabella’s party. But we’re not going.”

She wasn’t concentrating. That was the problem. She didn’t have time to prepare. She was enjoying the wine, chocolate and zombies. Perry had only gotten back less than a week ago. He was always so loving and chipper after a trip, especially if he’d left the country. It somehow cleansed him. His face always seemed smoother, his eyes brighter. The layers of frustration would take weeks to build up again. The children had been in feral little moods tonight. “Mummy gets a rest tonight,” Perry told the boys earlier, and he’d done the whole bath, teeth, story routine on his own, while she sat on the couch, reading her book and drinking a Perry Surprise. It was a cocktail he’d invented years ago. It tasted of chocolate and cream and strawberries and cinnamon, and every woman he ever prepared it for went crazy over it. “I’ll give you my children in return for that recipe,” Madeline had once told Perry.

Perry filled his own glass. “Why aren’t we going?”

“I’m taking the boys to Disney On Ice. Madeline got free tickets, and a group of us are going.” Celeste broke off another piece of chocolate. She’d texted her apologies to Renata and hadn’t heard back. As the nanny did most of the school pickups and drop-offs, Celeste hadn’t run into her since the first day of school. She knew she was aligning herself with Madeline and Jane by saying no, but, well, she was aligned with Madeline and Jane. And this was a fifth-birthday party. This was not a matter of life or death.