about it,” he said.
40.
Samantha: Have you heard about the petition? That’s when I knew things were getting out of hand.
Harper: I’m not ashamed to say that I started the petition. For heaven’s sake, the school was doing nothing! Poor Renata was at her wit’s end. You need to be able to send your child to school and know that she’s in a safe environment.
Mrs. Lipmann: I most emphatically disagree. The school was not “doing nothing.” We had an extremely comprehensive plan of action. And let me be clear: We actually had no evidence that Ziggy was the one doing the bullying.
Thea: I signed it. That poor little girl.
Jonathan: Of course I didn’t sign it. That poor little boy.
Gabrielle: Don’t tell anyone, but I think I accidentally signed it. I thought it was the petition about getting the council to put in a pedestrian crossing on Park Street.
One Week Before the Trivia Night
Welcome to the inaugural meeting of the Pirriwee Peninsula Erotic Book Club!” said Madeline as she opened her front door with a flourish. She’d already treated herself to half a glass of champagne.
As she’d been preparing for tonight she’d berated herself for starting a book club. It was just a distraction from her grief over Abigail moving out. Was grief too dramatic a word? Probably. But that’s how it felt. It felt like she’d suffered a loss, but no one was bringing her flowers, so she’d busied herself with a book club, of all things. (Why didn’t she just go shopping?) She’d ostentatiously invited all the kindergarten parents, and ten parents had said yes. Then she’d chosen a juicy, rollicking book she knew she’d enjoy, and given everyone heaps of time to read it, before realizing that everyone would have a turn choosing a book, and so she’d probably end up having to wade through some awful, worthy tomes. Oh well. She had plenty of experience not doing her homework. She’d wing it on those nights. Or she’d cheat and ask Celeste for a summary.
“Stop calling it the Erotic Fiction Club,” said her first guest, Samantha as she handed over a plate of brownies. “People are starting to talk. Carol is obsessed.”
Samantha was small and wiry, a pocket-size version of an athlete. She ran marathons, but Madeline forgave her for this flaw because Samantha seemed to say exactly what she thought and she was also one of those people who were completely at the mercy of her own sense of humor. She could frequently be seen around the playground, clutching somebody’s arm to help her stay upright while she laughed helplessly.
Madeline was also fond of Samantha because during the first week of school Chloe had fallen passionately in love with Samantha’s daughter, Lily (a fellow feisty princess). Madeline’s fear that Chloe would befriend Skye had therefore proven unfounded. Thank God. With Abigail’s desertion, it would have been just too much to bear right now if Madeline had to then have her ex-husband’s kid over for playdates.
“Am I the first to arrive?” asked Samantha. “I left home early because I was desperate to get away from my children. I said to Stu, ‘I’ll leave you to it, mate.’”
“You are.” Madeline led her into the living room. “Come and have a drink.”
“Jane is coming, right?” said Samantha.
“Yes, why?” Madeline stopped.
“I just wondered if she knew about this petition that’s circulating.”
“What petition?” Madeline’s teeth began to grind. Jane had told her about the new accusations being made against Ziggy.
Apparently Amabella refused to confirm or deny that it was Ziggy who had been hurting her, and according to Jane, Ziggy behaved oddly when she confronted him about it. Jane didn’t know if that was evidence of his guilt or something else. Yesterday she’d been to the doctor to get a referral to a psychologist, which was probably going to cost her the earth. “I just need to be sure,” she’d told Madeline. “You know, because of his . . . because of his background.”
Madeline had wondered if those three girls, Ziggy’s half sisters, were bullies. Then she’d blushed, ashamed of her ill-begotten knowledge.
“It’s a petition to have Ziggy suspended from the school,” said Samantha with an apologetic grimace, as if she’d stepped on Madeline’s toe.
“What? That’s ridiculous! Renata can’t possibly think people would be so small-minded as to sign it!”
“It wasn’t Renata. I think it was Harper who started it,” said Samantha. “I think they’re quite good friends, right? I’m still getting my head around all the politics of the place.”
“Harper is very