And then in a whisper ‘my cunt misses you too.’
Arthur looked around and saw that no one had heard that last sentence. What had earlier began as a stirring has transformed itself into a full blown, painful erection.
He blurted out. ‘Tracey, I’ve missed you too. You’ve no idea how much. Tracey, I love you. So please, don’t say anything to me that you don’t mean.’
‘I mean it Arthur. I’ve missed you. I was so swept up in the work and the fame, I think I forgot what was really important to me. I don’t know how it happened and to be honest, you are nothing at all like the man I ever pictured myself being with. But Arthur, I love you too.’
She leaned across the table to him and they kissed. The drinks had just been sat down in front of them. Arthur pulled out a $50 note from his wallet, put it on the table. He stood up and said to Tracey, ‘come on, let’s go. I’m not hungry anymore, at least not for bistro food.’
Half an hour later they were both naked in Arthur’s bed. Tracey was on top of him, her torso gyrating and her animal like sounds filling the room. It went on for forty minutes after which they both fell into a deep sleep. As he was drifting off to sleep, Arthur vaguely recalled that the house was dark when they arrived. Martin and Natalie were still not home.
At 5.15 the next morning, Arthur went into the kitchen and made himself a coffee.
‘Good morning, Arthur,’ said Martin who was sitting at the kitchen table sipping his coffee.
‘A bit noisy last night, Arthur. Was that Tracey, by any chance?’
Arthur blushed. ‘Yes, it was Martin. Let me explain.’
But Martin interrupted. ‘No explanation necessary, Arthur. It’s actually quite opportune. I need to talk to Tracey.’
‘Yes I know,’ Arthur said. ‘That’s why she came. She got your message.’
‘Arthur, do me a favour. Will you do the run this morning? I really need to talk to Tracey as soon as she wakes up.’
‘No problem Martin. I’ll be off in a couple of minutes.’
Arthur had his coffee standing up. He was about to leave. ‘Martin, by the way, is Natalie okay? I haven’t seen her for a couple of days.’
‘She’s fine. I forgot to tell you. Her aunt is sick. Natalie has gone to Melbourne for a few days to be with her. She will be back tomorrow or the next day at the latest.’
‘Okay. See you later. I’m sure Tracey will be up soon. She is a bit intrigued by your request. Anything you want to tell me?’
‘Later Arthur. Hurry up. You’ll be late. I’ll talk to you when you come back.’ And with that Arthur left.
They were in studio three. As before, Tracey and Martin were sitting opposite each other. The segment had to be broadcast live, so Martin drove to Melbourne to the TV station earlier that day.
He would have preferred to have it taped in Eden, as he done previously, but the man that Martin knew only as Trevor insisted that it had to be done live. Martin was not in a position to refuse. Trevor was holding Natalie somewhere. One week earlier, a photograph of Natalie was left in his van. She was sitting, mouth taped, and eyes wild with fear. Her hands were tied together in front of her, leaning on her chest was a current edition of The Age newspaper, proof that Trevor had her that day.
Trevor had reassured Martin that Natalie would be released unharmed one hour after the show finished. There were only two conditions. The segment had to be live and Martin was to say exactly what he had been instructed to say. Accompanying the photograph was a typed A4 sheet of paper containing all the relevant points he had to cover.
Trevor did not say what would happen to Natalie if Martin did not heed those two conditions, but Martin did not want to find out.
He contacted Tracey immediately, but even with his best efforts and influence she now exerted, it still took a week to set it all up.
Martin was sick with worry. He was instructed to tell no one and hence concocted the story of Natalie visiting a sick aunt to Arthur. It was obvious to Arthur that something was troubling Martin, but when he asked, Martin dismissed him, claiming to have a sore throat and a mild cold, nothing else.
It was time. Tracey was given the signal and looking into the camera, smiled and said, ‘good evening, tonight I again have the pleasure of introducing Martin Brophy. Those of you who watch us regularly have no doubt seen Martin’s two previous interviews. This will not be so much an interview. Martin has requested to make a statement of clarification. There will no questions from me. Martin, all yours.’
To the people who knew him, it was obvious that Martin was not his normal self. The word had quickly got out that he would be on Today, Now again, and almost every TV set in Eden was tuned in as Martin began to speak.
‘Thank you Tracey for giving me the opportunity to speak to your audience again. I’ve done a great deal of soul searching and what I’m about to say, I say with a heavy heart, but it needs to be said, nevertheless. Most of you by now know the results of the so called ‘Social Experiment’ that was conducted in Eden. The Eden Effect as it has become known. Tonight, I have to confess to you, the people of Eden and to people everywhere that I was not completely honest with you last time I was on this show promoting the results. You will recall, the results were positive as far as the people’s reaction were concerned, but negative from a scientific basis because they did not reach statistical significance. I chose to emphasise the positive and dismiss the negative, as if it did not matter. Well, tonight I want to tell you that it does matter. The whole point of the exercise was to demonstrate scientifically that the Eden Effect existed and in that we failed. And it is the science that matters above all and if we ignore that, then we are no better than snake oil salesmen and the other charlatans that try to market useless treatments.’
‘I have come to realise that I did just that. I ignored the science because it did not fit with my preconceived ideas, and chose to believe what I wanted to believe. And worst still, I made you all believe that too.’
‘I’m a fraud. I’m ashamed of myself and unreservedly apologise to all of you. There is no Eden Effect, there never really was.’
The camera swung to Tracey who was staring at Martin, mouth open in a most undignified and non-celebrity way. She realised the camera was on her, tried to smile a little.
‘Thank you, Martin. I don’t know what to say. It would be fair to say that have taken all of us by surprise. We have a lot to think about. Thank you for you honesty, and candour. This could not have been easy for you.’
Martin took off his microphone, stood up and without a word to Tracey or anyone left the studio. Five minutes later he was sitting in his car reading the note that had been left for him in the front passenger seat. The note had an address written on it, nothing else.
Martin entered the address into the car’s GPS and was relieved to see that it was nearby. Five minutes later he pulled up in front a Victorian terrace house in a small street in South Melbourne. He raced out of his car, climbed the three steps up to the porch and was about to knock on the door when he realised it was open. He went in, walked briskly down the long corridor calling out for Natalie. He could hear muffled sounds coming from straight ahead. In the kitchen he found Natalie sitting on a kitchen chair, her legs tied to the chair, her hands tied in front of her and her mouth taped. When she saw him, tears welled up in her eyes. He went over to her, untied her hands and legs, and carefully as he could pulled the tape off her mouth.
‘Ouch! Careful.’
Martin helped her up, hugged her.
‘Are you okay, Natalie?’ he asked, his voice breaking.
‘I’m okay, Martin. Thank God you’re here. What took so long? What the hell is going on?’
‘Let’s get out of here and go home. I’ll tell you everything on the way.’
It was 10pm when Martin’s car pulled into the Eden dairy. On the drive to Eden he filled Natalie in on the events of the last week, culminating in his TV appearance that evening. Natalie said little, from time to time gasping, ‘o
h my God,’ as Martin told the story.
All the lights are were on. Arthur was in the lounge room pacing, glass of whisky in his hands.
‘Martin, what the.’ He stopped when he saw Natalie.
‘Natalie, you’re back. How’s your aunt? Sorry to hear that she is not well.’
‘My aunt, Arthur? What are you talking about? I don’t have an aunt.’ And to Martin. ‘Haven’t you told him?’
‘Told me what?’ Arthur asked before Martin could answer.
‘I couldn’t tell him, Natalie. I couldn’t tell anyone. Trevor was adamant about that.’
‘Who’s Trevor? What the hell is going on, Martin? And where has Natalie been?’ Arthur was sounding frantic.
‘Let’s sit down, Arthur, and I will tell you. You should go to bed Natalie. You must be exhausted.’
‘I will, Martin. I don’t think I’ll sleep though. Come to bed as soon as you finish telling Arthur. Good night, Arthur.’
‘Good night, Natalie.’ And to Martin. ‘Okay Martin, let’s hear it. It better be good, especially after your performance on TV tonight.’
Arthur took a long gulp of whisky and waited. Martin spoke for the next half hour telling Arthur everything.
‘We won’t let him get away with that, Martin,’ was Arthur’s response once Martin had finished speaking.
‘Who is behind all this? Who is this Trevor?’
‘I’ve got no idea, Arthur. He did not say. But whoever they are, they’re serious people. I was in no doubt that Natalie would be harmed if I did not cooperate. And I don’t want to go through that again, Arthur. And I definitely don’t want to put Natalie through anything like that again. So, I guess whoever this is will get away with it. Even if I wanted to, I can’t take back what I said. It’s all over. The Eden Effect. I’m done.’
‘Don’t be so sure, Martin. It kept going even with all the negative publicity. What makes you think it won’t continue? And anyway, outside of Eden, how many people watch this show? Don’t be so negative, Martin.’
‘I don’t care anymore, Arthur. As far as I am concerned, anyone can watch, read or listen to anything they want to. None of my business. Not anymore. You’re welcome to do what you want, leave me out it.’
‘You are upset, Martin. Understandable. I bet you’ll feel differently in the morning.’
‘Good night, Arthur. I’m going to bed. Natalie is waiting.’
‘Good night, Martin. Tomorrow, I’ll do the round on my own. You stay in bed, spend the morning with Natalie.’
‘Thanks, Arthur. Good idea. Thanks for that.’
At 10.30 the next morning when Arthur had returned from the delivery round he found Martin and Natalie waiting for him.
‘Arthur, we’ve made a decision,’ Martin announced once Arthur had joined them at the kitchen table.
Martin continued. ‘Natalie and I are leaving Eden. We have plans to travel. We’re going to take an extended holiday and see the world. And when we come back it won’t be to Eden. Don’t know where yet, just not here.’
Arthur waited. There was obviously more.
‘I’m putting the dairy up for sale. I’ll give it three months, but I doubt there will be a buyer. I’ll close it. The people of Eden will manage with the supermarket. What we discussed before still applies. I will make arrangements to transfer the 10 million to your account in the next few days. I presume you’ll also be leaving Eden. Back to leafy suburbs of Melbourne where you really belong, Arthur. I hope we can still keep in touch. Be friends.’
‘Always, Martin, always. I’m going to change now. Three months you say. I’ll leave the same time as you do. I guess I’ve got plans to make too.’
The marquee that had been used for the town meeting all those months ago was again set up on the football oval. The artificial grass was down, the seats were in and a small stage with a single microphone, no table, no chairs, was set up at the front.
At 3.45pm people began to file in. It was unusually quiet. None of the chatter that is usually associated with large numbers of people congregating together. Many of the men wore jackets and ties, all the woman wore either dresses or skirts, no slacks. The children appeared to be in their Sunday best. By 4.10pm all the seats were taken and there were two or three dozen people standing up at the back of the tent.
At 4.20pm, Mayor Gibson and all the Councillors took their seats in the second row, which had been reserved for them. They were joined by Owen and Glen and the two policemen, Gill and Roger. Also taking their places in the third row were Robert Mackie and Fiona Malcolm, who arrived and sat together.
At 4.25pm Natalie and Tracey took their seats in the front row. They were the only occupants. Both were dressed in black suits. Natalie’s eyes looked puffy. It was obvious she had been crying. Tracey looked solemn. Her beautiful smile was absent.
At precisely 4.30pm, Arthur took his place at the microphone. He was wearing a black Armani suit, white shirt and black tie. The little noise that was present ceased and there was total silence.
‘Today is a sad day for the town of Eden,’ Arthur began. ‘For those of you who may not know me, my name is Arthur Fromm. Martin was my friend and colleague. I’ve been nominated to speak at this solemn occasion, and I do so with great pride.’
‘It is only two weeks since we lost Martin Brophy, but it feels much longer than that. His passing has profoundly affected many lives and it is obvious by today’s attendance that Martin was held in high esteem by the people of Eden.’
‘He was far too young to leave us. Life can be so cruel. Martin and his wife, Natalie were about to embark on trip of a lifetime. To see the world. Martin had never been outside of Australia before. He was so excited. But it was not to be. We can take some solace in the fact that he died peacefully in his sleep. He did not suffer. There has been most speculation about the cause of Martin’s death. We’ll still do not know. There is still more test results to come, but the best assessment by the medical profession is that he suffered a fatal heart attack in his sleep.’
‘All of you know what Martin Brophy has done for this town. The Eden Foundation is now firmly a part of the fabric of Eden and Martin, through his selflessness and foresight has ensured that it would continue for many years to come. It will be there to ensure the future of Eden.’
‘You’re all aware that the project that Martin instigated, the project that all of you were a part of did not achieve what Martin and all us had hoped for. And this affected Martin very badly. And it is sad, that what turned out to be the last few weeks of Martin’s life were not happy ones for him. He had taken it very badly and while the doctors say he probably died of a heart attack, I would say it was more likely a broken heart.’
Arthur stopped. He looked down at Natalie who was crying. He could see tears welling up in Tracey’s eyes too. All around them there were handkerchiefs wiping moist eyes, some men too, not just the women.
Arthur continued. ‘Martin was not a religious man. I don’t know whether he believed in God. We never discussed this. He believed in people and firmly believed that you could bring out the good in anyone with the right type of encouragement.’
‘Again, thank you all for coming this afternoon. Natalie has asked me to convey to you her thanks for the all good wishes, flowers and cards that she has received from so many of you. That’s given her much comfort in this difficult time. If you could all please stand and let’s together observe one minute of silence for Martin Brophy.’
At the end of the minute everyone remained standing. Arthur climbed down from the stage and joined Natalie and Tracey, and the three of them walked out together. Everyone else remained standing for a few more minutes and then people began to slowly file out, and within twenty minutes the marquee was empty.
The people of Eden returned to their homes. The wives prepared dinner and after dinner most people watched the news on TV.
A suicide bomber had blown himself up killing twenty four police recruits in Kabul. In Delhi, India, two teenage girl
s were brutally raped. A church was set on fire in Northern Nigeria and forty seven congregants were burnt to death. A five year old boy…
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The Eden Effect Page 15