‘You want to talk about it?’ Charlie asked.
‘Not really.’
Charlie settled back even further in his chair, put his drink down and comfortably crossed his legs and arms. ‘I think you’d better,’ he said.
‘I don’t quite know where to begin,’ I said, after a long silence.
‘You could begin with the problem that’s developing between Iona and you,’ he suggested.
‘But something else just happened—’
‘Let’s take them one at a time? First, what do you think the problem is?’
I cast about, trying to find a concise definition. ‘Iona thinks that I’m on the run from her—that I avoid time with her by working too hard,’ I blurted out eventually. ‘She says I keep taking on responsibilities that aren’t really mine.’
‘And is it a fair comment?’
I considered. ‘Maybe that’s what it looks like to someone else,’ I said finally. ‘The way I see it is different. I’d never thought about it until you mentioned it and she started complaining about it. It was just what I did. But now, I’ve had to examine why it is, and it’s because I feel deeply obligated to do whatever is in my power to help the dead. This might sound peculiar but that’s the feeling—that I have a duty, that I owe it to these victims.’
Charlie nodded. ‘At least you’ve got an idea of what’s driving you.’
‘Motivating me,’ I corrected.
‘You prefer that word?’ Charlie asked, raising one of his dark eyebrows.
‘“Driving” makes it sound like I’m not in control of the process,’ I said.
‘That’s right,’ said Charlie. ‘That’s why I used it.’
‘What do you mean?’ I asked, irritated.
‘And this behaviour of yours is hurting Iona,’ said Charlie, ignoring my question.
I stood up and walked around the room, restless and angry. ‘What am I supposed to do, Charlie?’
‘What is it you want, Jack?’
‘You know that. I want Iona. I want to live with her and make a good life together.’
‘And how exactly are you going to do that? What action are you going to take? What plans are in place for that to happen?’
‘Well, I asked her to come and live here,’ I said.
‘And?’ Charlie prompted.
‘And what? She got a job in the first month. She said she was happy living here. She goes to Sydney once or twice a month to catch up with friends and an old uncle.’
‘So Iona’s obviously made plans to live here with you but I was asking what you’re doing,’ said Charlie.
‘It shits me when you go sphinx-like,’ I said. ‘Going on with questions like this. I’m asking you for your help, not a bloody interrogation!’
‘Jack, you’ve got to know what you want and how to get it before you can achieve anything.’
‘I know that,’ I said.
‘I don’t think you do—not when it comes to relationships. You know it in your work life very well.’
‘What am I supposed to do?’ I said, capitulating. ‘Give me a hand.’
‘Think about it for a while,’ said Charlie. ‘But not for too long. I’ve got a feeling Iona has had enough of you—or rather, she’s had enough of not having enough of you, if you get my drift.’
‘She says I shut her out,’ I said.
‘And do you?’
I poked the fire and found a good-sized log to put on for the night, then raked the coals around it, watching the flickering tongues of flame emerge underneath and wrap around the wood.
‘I suppose I do. I never seem to have the sort of unhurried time for pottering around that Iona wants.’
‘That would be too dangerous,’ said Charlie.
‘What do you mean?’ I asked, irritated by his remark and knowing exactly what he was doing.
‘Just what I’m saying. You don’t want to open up to her so you keep busy. That way, the moment never comes. You should ask yourself one day why it is you’re so scared of opening up to a woman.’
I’d had enough of this conversation. ‘Something happened. Just a while ago,’ I began.
We both turned as we heard the front door being unlocked and Jacinta’s footsteps coming down the hall. She threw herself on the old lounge, pulling a knitted scarf from around her shoulders and flinging it wildly behind her. ‘Shaz is crazy! I did everything I could to persuade her but she said she had to get back. That means to him. It’s like she’s under some evil spell.’
‘Jazza, she’s not ready to leave him,’ Charlie repeated. ‘It’ll take time. But let’s hope this evening we’ve started a process with that discussion—even though she found it so confronting. There could be a very good outcome a little further down the track.’
‘You sound like a clinical psych,’ she said. Charlie shrugged and I could see Jacinta’s feathers settling down again.
Finally, she stood up and kissed Charlie then me goodnight. ‘Dad, I think I overreacted earlier. Shaz should hear other people’s experience and ideas.’
‘How else do we learn to change?’ I said.
‘You tell him, Jass,’ said Charlie. ‘I’ve been trying to influence your father and getting nowhere.’
Jacinta rolled her eyes in a way reminiscent of Genevieve’s mad-horse look. ‘It’s an impossible job,’ she said. ‘I’ve been trying for years.’
‘Hey,’ I protested. ‘What is this? Get Jack week?’
‘Dad. I know it’s none of my business and you two have to sort things out, but I really like Iona. She’s a terrific woman. I was really sad at what happened tonight.’
‘I’m sorry, Jass. I’m not so good at some things.’
‘You look sick or something,’ she said, staring closer. ‘You okay?’
‘Sure I am. Go to bed.’
She gave me another concerned look, picked up the lemurs, draping them over her shoulders, and went to her room.
‘Okay,’ said Charlie, when he heard the sound of the spare bedroom door closing. ‘Where were we?’
I took another deep breath and told him about the partner-swapping sex group, the colour and numerical codes favoured by the group and, finally, my own trip to Olim’s to meet Blue as I tried to gather intelligence on the group. I stopped for a moment at the point where I’d opened the door of Suite 12, my mind filled again with the overwhelming vision of complete sexual availability.
‘Go on,’ Charlie prompted.
I cleared my throat, then continued, describing exactly what I’d encountered there, right down to the golden stubble surrounding Sofia Verstoek’s Brazilian.
‘That sure would break the ice!’ Charlie leaned forward. ‘Great way to meet. So?’
‘So, what?’ I asked.
‘So what did you do?’
‘What do you think I did? I backed right out of there, fast as I could.’
There was a silence.
‘Spoilsport,’ Charlie said after a long silence.
‘For Christ’s sake, Charlie, she’s a colleague! And a subordinate.’
‘So? From what you’ve just told me, no one else seems to have worried about that sort of nicety. I didn’t think that sort of thing mattered any more.’
‘Bloody oath it does,’ I said. ‘To me, anyway. Not to mention the fact that I’m deeply involved with a woman—’
‘Deeply involved?’
‘You heard me. I’m deeply involved with a woman I love very much,’ I repeated. ‘I’m not interested in playing up. Plus I’m acting chief and the woman at Olims is someone I might pass in the corridors a couple of times a week. She’s also someone I don’t consider to be particularly stable emotionally.’
Charlie chuckled. ‘Could make for some interesting moments in the lunch room
.’
He was right. I sat and considered the possible consequences of my visit to Suite 12.
Now that Sofia Verstoek had recognised me, I realised, unless I made sure I was seen as a genuine member, the group would close ranks. If I wanted to get in, I’d have to leave my investigator’s hat right out of it.
I recalled other, classic unsolved cases concerning suspicious deaths where scientists and doctors had been involved: of lovers poisoned on a riverside bank celebrating New Year’s Eve, a doctor bashed to death by an unknown intruder while garaging his car late one night.
‘You missed your chance, bro,’ said Charlie. ‘You could have got laid and gathered intelligence.’ He stood up and went to the small bar I kept, pouring himself another brandy.
‘I can’t seem to get her image out of my head, Charlie. Every time I close my eyes, it’s all I can see.’
‘I’m not surprised,’ he said. ‘My guess is that it’s hardwired in the male brain. Earlier even than Australopithecus.’
‘Australo-what-icus?’
‘Early hominids,’ said Charlie. ‘Our primitive forebears back millions of years. Female squats and presents, male pounces and penetrates. Simple, beastly copulation. Easy.’ He sat down with his brandy, grinning like a chimpanzee. ‘And somewhere, hidden under layers of repression and civilisation, it’s still to be found in the modern male consciousness.’
‘Give it a rest, Charlie.’
‘But my brother is unique,’ Charlie teased, going out to the kitchen. ‘He’s given this great chance to do the manly thing. The natural thing! Talk about an investigator’s dream.’
‘Nightmare,’ I corrected him. How was I going to manage this at work? Pretend it hadn’t happened? Take her aside and tell her that, as far as I was concerned, the incident was closed and no further communication would be entered into? Get her shifted to another laboratory like Florence and the others wanted? At least that way, my dignity could remain reasonably intact. The idea was very tempting.
‘What are you doing out there?’ I called. ‘Come back and help me.’
‘I’m getting you something to eat. There’s no chicken left.’
‘I don’t need food. I need some advice! Do the psychologist thing. Make a helpful suggestion, for Christ’s sake.’
But he kept fiddling out there and I could smell bread toasting. He returned some minutes later with buttered toast and still-warm baked potatoes.
‘I haven’t mentioned that the female involved in all this is completely obnoxious,’ I said, taking a piece of toast.
‘With a fantastic arse!’ laughed Charlie.
‘It’s no laughing matter. What am I going to do about this woman?’
‘Don’t you think there’s a much more urgent matter involving a woman that you should be considering?’ said Charlie, suddenly serious.
Charlie had this ability to switch from mirth to gravity and I’d always found it disconcerting.
‘If you don’t do something about your relationship with Iona, you will lose her,’ he continued.
That shocked me and I put my toast down. ‘Did she say something to you?’
‘She didn’t have to,’ said Charlie. ‘I saw how distressed she was. But yes, I did talk to her.’
‘And?’
Charlie raised his hands. ‘You know I don’t do that—tell tales. You need to talk to her about this. About what you’re going to do.’
He came back to the chair opposite, sipping his brandy. ‘The males in our family are a pretty sad lot when it comes to making good relationships with women,’ he said. ‘Take me, for starters. I seem unable to get properly serious about a woman. They call me the playboy in my supervision group and it’s not entirely a joke.’
‘But you’re only a youngster,’ I said, taking a potato. For me, Charlie always feels perennially young.
‘I’m only twelve years younger than you,’ said Charlie. ‘And it’s high time I found a possible woman and became a father. But I have difficulties with intimate relating which we won’t go into right now. So that’s me; our father had a dreadful marriage with an impossible woman; your first marriage was to a borderline personality disorder—’
Charlie and Genevieve had never seen eye to eye, to put it mildly.
‘Who had no capacity whatsoever to grasp that there are other points of view than hers. So what I’m saying is, you have to face the fact that now you’ve been fortunate enough to have found a possible woman—’
I interrupted him. ‘That’s the second time you’ve used that term. What do you mean “possible woman”?’
‘A woman who is not so emotionally and psychologically disfigured by the events of her childhood that she’s able to connect in a reasonable and mature way, with compassion and understanding. A woman who can be part of a shared experience—a couple—without trying to dominate the other. Iona Seymour is possible. So don’t bugger up this wonderful chance—the Great Experiment—because of your character defects.’
‘Exactly which character defects do you mean?’ I said, knowing I had quite a few, although I thought I was continuing to deal with them. ‘Tell me.’
‘There’s really only one to be concerned about. Your persistent inability to slow down—to stop and just be.’
‘Be what, for Christ’s sake? What am I supposed to be?’
‘That’s such a typical workaholic’s response!’ Charlie laughed. ‘You don’t have to be anything. Just be.’
I stared at my brother. At least the stunning incident of earlier in the evening had receded from my memory as I considered Charlie’s words and proceeded to defend myself.
‘I know how to do that. What about when I just lie on a blanket on the river bank and look up at the willow leaves and the sky? Isn’t that just being?’ I countered.
‘It certainly is,’ Charlie said. ‘So tell me, how often do you do that?’
‘Come on, Charlie. You know how busy I’ve been lately.’
‘How often do you do it, Jack? Honest answer now, please.’
I cast my mind back. I remembered a time last year when I’d waited for Jacinta and Iona to meet me for a picnic at the river bend and how the air had been filled with drifting white blossoms that turned out to be tiny butterflies. Then there’d been another occasion with just Iona and me, not long after she arrived here. I told Charlie about these.
‘So there you are, Jack. You can do it once a year. That’s about it, isn’t it?’ He stood up and stretched. ‘The rest of the time you’re racing around like a hairy-nosed wombat.’
‘Wombats don’t race,’ I reminded him.
‘You need to think very seriously about what your priorities are, Jack. Presumably, you want this woman in your life?’
‘Of course I do!’ I said, pissed off that he should question me.
‘Then you’ve got to make space and time for her. You’ve got to learn to open up to her, to let her in. Show her who you really are. You can’t wait until things quieten down at work. It’s that simple. When was the last time you had any quiet time at work?’
I tried to think of some quiet time in the last few years, but there’d been none. Every time we thought we were getting across the workload, another homicidal martyr, with his head full of hell, would detonate something somewhere and half my staff would vanish for weeks, only to return with more work and their backlog to catch up with as well.
Greg bumped into the lounge room lugging his overloaded backpack and a long batik carry bag. ‘I’m heading off tomorrow morning,’ he said. ‘I’ll get a lift with Jass.’
‘Is she going?’ I asked, disappointed. ‘What happened to the time we were going to have?’
Greg pulled his head back, looking at me. ‘Are you serious?’ he asked. ‘You’re never here. I’ll come back when you’ve got some time.’
‘Okay,’ I said, chastened. ‘Did you open any of those?’ I gestured to the books.
‘Who’s asking, old man?’ And Greg, grabbing me in a bear hug and lifting me out of the chair I was sitting in, would have taken me down straightaway except that I remembered a piece of fancy footwork designed to interfere with any plans a superior attacker might employ. Eventually, we tussled to the floor and this time, when Greg won, it wasn’t because I’d let him.
As he helped me up, I felt every year of my age.
When at last I slid in beside Iona’s warm body, I lay listening to her gentle breathing, pondering Charlie’s words. He was right. It was that simple and somewhere I knew it. Then why, I asked myself, did I constantly take on more and more work? Why did I feel so responsible?
I couldn’t find the answer and so I turned my mind to my other concern. The thought of Sofia Verstoek making herself sexually available to any man who walked through the door of Suite 12, then donning her scientific white spacesuit and frowning around a crime scene, would give me no peace. How could I ever look at the blonde down of her eyebrows again without thinking of her shaved mound? Then I tried to imagine her seeing something at venue sixteen, something that made her so angry she could murder a scientist at the Ag Station. Jealousy was a common human emotion. Claire could have let her in and Sofia would know how to leave no trace evidence. But although I could imagine Sofia as a murderer, I couldn’t see how she’d give a damn about anyone except herself.
Finally, at about 3 a.m., around the same time as a storm broke overhead and heavy rain suddenly started to pelt down, I slept.
Seventeen
When I woke up alone, I felt sad that Iona had already left for work, but somewhat relieved that I didn’t have to talk about last night. It would take time, I knew, for the previous night’s scene to settle down in my mind and I really needed to think about Charlie’s words.
I breakfasted alone—neither Charlie nor the kids had emerged yet—and, after I’d cleaned up, I sat at the desk Iona used near the window of the lounge room and wrote a note. Please forgive me for taking so long to learn a few simple truths. Let’s talk soon. I love you. I signed it, left it propped up in an envelope where she’d find it, locked up and climbed into my wagon, thinking of the busy day ahead of me. I’d decided to try and arrange a meeting at the Ag Station with Kevin Waites as well as everything else.
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