Medea's Curse

by Anne Buist

  ‘I’m getting to the gym daily. And I checked out the new shopping centre in the city and got—’

  She could have been visiting a girlfriend. Natalie cut in.

  ‘I was thinking, after last week,’ she said. ‘Something you said didn’t quite make sense.’

  Georgia waited for Natalie to go on.

  ‘You implied Paul was your first sexual partner.’

  Georgia frowned. ‘Did I?’

  Natalie waited.

  Georgia shrugged and said, ‘I don’t really like to think about before him. It’s not like any of that…well I left it all behind. I was…naive.’

  ‘I’d like you to tell me about it.’

  A tight smile. ‘If I must.’ After a pause she continued. ‘I met Gary at a party. What can I say? I was naive, stupid. He took advantage of me.’

  ‘How often did you see him?’

  ‘See? You mean have sex with? Just the once,’ Georgia said, laughing mirthlessly. ‘More than enough, I assure you.’

  ‘When did you know you were pregnant?’

  ‘As soon as I missed my period.’

  So not a case of pregnancy denial. ‘Did you let him know?’

  There was the briefest of pauses before Georgia said, ‘No point. He wasn’t going to play happy families.’

  ‘Did you tell your aunt and uncle?’

  ‘Virginia?’ Georgia’s face made a brief grimace; in response to Natalie’s look of curiosity she added, ‘My uncle told me once we were both named after states of America but I’m sure it was chosen as a good Catholic name in her case. She was as pious as the Virgin Mary so I wasn’t about to go to her.’

  ‘What about your uncle?’

  ‘We didn’t have that sort of relationship,’ said Georgia, smoothing out the crease in her dress. ‘I was about to start nursing and had organised a share house. So I just moved out.’

  ‘What was going to happen with the baby?’

  ‘I suppose I’d have put it in childcare. Maybe adopted it out. To be honest I didn’t think all that much, I just… assumed it would work out.’

  Which it had. By accident or design?

  ‘It must have been difficult.’

  ‘I hardly put on any weight. If people thought I was pregnant they never said. I didn’t feel much different. It was a very rapid labour and I panicked. I realised it was dead straight away.’

  ‘Did you call for help?’

  Georgia shook her head. ‘I told you, I panicked. I know now it was a precipitous labour, not like my later ones; it happened very quickly. Suddenly there was…a lot of mess and…a baby. Only it wasn’t moving or crying.’

  ‘So what did you do?’

  ‘Delivered the placenta. Cleaned up. Called an ambulance.’

  Natalie found her clinical account chilling. The autopsy had been inconclusive and there was no follow-up at the time. Only in the light of subsequent events had Georgia’s behaviour come under suspicion.

  ‘I had never bonded, you see,’ said Georgia. It was a reasonable explanation for her lack of feeling; also a motivation for murder. ‘Not like the pregnancy with Genevieve.’

  ‘How did you feel when Genevieve died?’

  ‘I knew immediately she was dead. She was blue and cold.’

  ‘How did you feel?’

  ‘I watched her; I’ve no idea for how long. Then I called Paul. He was out at the shops. I wasn’t sure if I should call an ambulance or not, given she was dead.’

  ‘Georgia, I’m wondering how you felt?’ Natalie repeated.

  ‘I…I don’t know. Stunned I think. It really didn’t sink in.’

  ‘And Paul?’

  ‘Devastated. Kind, supportive. Though…’

  ‘Though…?’

  ‘Though…?’ Georgia looked blank. ‘I, well I can’t really recall that period very well.’ She looked down, rubbing her hands on her legs. ‘I just remember feeling afraid.’

  ‘Afraid of what?’

  Georgia looked up, eyes widened. ‘Of…nothing in particular.’ Natalie was sure the smile was staged; but why? It broadened when Natalie said her time was up. Georgia almost skipped out of the office.

  Natalie reflected on statements she had read from Georgia’s friends. When her children died, Georgia had seemed disconnected, emotionless. Dissociation? Because she didn’t have any emotions? Or because it was her lifelong pattern, learned at the hands of abusive or unavailable caregivers, where it was safer to hide your emotions rather than be vulnerable?

  Neither quite fitted with Georgia’s departing words. Her mention of feeling afraid didn’t ring true for someone getting in touch with their inner demons; it was too easy. Was she afraid of Paul?

  ‘Your weekly present has arrived.’

  Natalie took the red envelope from Beverley’s hand and realised her own hand was shaking.

  This time it said, I’m watching you. Taking your mood stabilisers are you? She felt nauseous.

  No one knew about her illness except a handful of health professionals, Tom and her family. She didn’t talk about it, didn’t like to think about it. She hated being reduced to a diagnosis and hated, too, the powerless rage that it caused to sweep through her. Now someone else knew. Who? And how?

  She thought of the car outside her house, the noise on the roof. Of Travis and his two dead babies and what he stood to lose. Of some of the psychopaths she had interviewed over the years and how little regard they had for the lives of others. Just who was watching her do what? She wondered what the cops would make of this, imagined them looking at her, asking about her mental illness, forming their judgments. She was going to file this message away too. Just as the stalker probably thought she would. What else did he know about her and what did he intend to do with that knowledge?

  ‘How’s everyone?’ Natalie asked as she came into the office.

  Kirsty raised an eyebrow. ‘I have two nurses off sick and no one wants an extra shift. I have a hangover, Wadhwa thinks the hospital should fund his research and Corinne has gone ballistic over the KPIs. Next question?’

  Normal day at the office. ‘The patients?’

  Kirsty grinned. ‘Pretty good, thank God. It’s a lot quieter here now Georgia Latimer has gone.’

  ‘Georgia? She created unrest?’ Natalie asked. ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘We had more acting out over the two weeks she was here; three patients slashed up and Corinne gave us a serve about how much sedation we were using. Place was a madhouse.’

  Natalie groaned at the quip. ‘And you think Georgia was behind it?’

  ‘Hard to say.’ Kirsty shrugged. ‘She was always nice as pie to us, and I never saw her be anything else to patients either. But there’s something off-centre about her. I think they sensed it.’

  Natalie nodded. Maybe that was it, the same unease she felt. The patients were fragile enough for that kind of feeling to throw them.

  Celeste was much brighter than last week. Her brother, Joe, heavily tattooed and
sporting a large septum ring, was visiting her.

  ‘She’s okay today, Doc,’ he said with a grin that showed missing teeth.

  ‘That’s great to hear,’ said Natalie. ‘Look ahead, not back?’

  ‘I reckon,’ Celeste said. ‘Would be nice to have a future without the bastard about.’

  ‘We don’t have to talk about him; future, remember?’

  ‘Suits me fine. I just want to forget.’

  Her brother nodded and his eyes followed Natalie all the way to the door. Natalie met them as she turned and she saw a knowing quality that unsettled her. Was there some meaning there? Or was she being oversensitive?

  ‘I have no doubt Georgia is damaged,’ Natalie said, sipping her glass of wine. ‘I feel there’s something I’m missing from her story. I’m trying very hard not to be judgmental but if I hear about her shopping trips again I swear I’ll gag her with her Gucci scarf.’

  ‘Is it possible you’re a snob?’ asked Declan.

  ‘That’s a new one. Not something many people would call me.’

  Declan laughed, measured and contained. She was pretty sure he timed things for effect; longer smiles and more nods if he wanted to reel her in, opening a space for her to feel safe, to reveal things about herself. Shorter, abrupt looks and words, threatening the withdrawal of approval if she didn’t think about the point he was making. ‘Snobbery works in both directions. I’m not suggesting Georgia hasn’t done it hard but she sounds like she wears her middle-class status like a badge.’

  ‘Like my mother?’

  Declan’s expression didn’t reveal anything; it didn’t have to. Here was something else to consider in the countertransference.

  ‘It’s not just Georgia,’ Natalie continued. ‘I have this bad vibe about Paul. I mean, if she is so damaged, what was he doing married to her for all that time? Why didn’t he suspect something? I’ve seen hundreds of shitty marriages and mutual psychopathology, but in this relationship children kept dying. Wouldn’t that be enough to shake an innocent man into wondering what was going on?’

  ‘Perhaps it did, when she was pregnant with the last child. Could you ask him?’

  ‘It had occurred to me. I’d have to get Georgia’s permission…’

  ‘You could try. It seems to have quite a hold on you. What about your other case?’

  Natalie shifted uncomfortably, allowing herself to be distracted by the front door opening and the sounds of someone walking down the corridor, then the thud of shopping bags being dropped on the bench. His wife presumably.

  She filled him in on the interview with Tiphanie. ‘My gut feeling is that she’s covering up.’

  Declan frowned. ‘You’ve told me nothing about her partner.’

  ‘I didn’t interview him.’

  Declan didn’t respond.

  ‘The O.P.P. and the police thinks he did it. Angry, immature. He didn’t have much to do with Chloe; Tiphanie was the stay-at-home mother.’

  ‘Will you be interviewing her partner?’

  ‘The police already have, there isn’t a need for me to.’

  Declan paused. ‘If you want to understand Tiphanie, you’ll need to look at her family. Including her partner.’

  Liam was waiting outside in the shadows of the Collingwood lane, takeaway food containers in hand, when she arrived. Better than a stalker. Maybe next time she’d find someone who could cook; this much junk food couldn’t be good for her. She had thought about getting Liam to meet her at one of the restaurants near Declan’s rooms, but only for a second. Her warehouse offered the best after-dinner options. Which meant, she acknowledged, that she wanted to keep fucking him, and so what? It didn’t have to mean a capital-R relationship, just mutual convenience.

  The Lotus was in the cul-de-sac off the lane. Liam was still in a suit, although he had pocketed the tie. He followed her and her bike into the basement entrance.

  ‘This place is something else,’ he said, looking around.

  ‘Could have been the star,’ Bob called from upstairs.

  Liam raised an eyebrow. ‘What the hell was that?’

  ‘Bob reciting a parody of “Hurricane” I believe.’

  Liam laughed. ‘Bob as in Dylan? Parrot’s got the better voice.’

  Upstairs Natalie grabbed two beers, shoved all the paperwork off the table onto the floor and started dipping naan into the beef vindaloo.

  ‘Bring me up to date with Chloe’s case,’ she said.

  Liam shook his head, mouth full, and made her wait until he had finished his curry and beer.

  ‘Okay. You were right.’ He wiped his fingers on the tea towel she’d thrown him. She wasn’t sure that this was something she wanted to be right about. ‘We’ve got a statement from Tiphanie’s GP.’

  ‘And?’ Who had told him? Not Damian, she was sure. His boss, who Liam liaised with, maybe.

  ‘Seems that despite Travis’s claims that she wasn’t a nutter like Amber’—Natalie cringed—‘she’s been on antidepressants for several months. Pops the odd Valium too.’

  ‘So do many new mothers. Particularly if they have to live with a deadshit like Travis.’

  But why had she lied when Natalie had asked her about mood and medication? Because she didn’t want Travis to know? Or the cops?

  ‘Maybe, but more to the point, how does it fit in with the case?’

  ‘I guess it adds weight to the she-did-it theory,’ said Natalie. Like Amber.

  ‘Forget it, Natalie. Travis ties this and Amber’s case together. He’s just good at getting women to cover up for him. Use your psychiatry skills to help explain how he does that.’

  ‘You think that if Chloe is dead, I don’t want to see Travis go down for it? But wishing for it to be him doesn’t mean it is.’

  ‘No, but if it quacks like a duck…’

  Natalie ignored him. ‘The medication increases the chance she could have dropped the kid accidentally. But dropping her wouldn’t kill her unless it was down a flight of stairs onto concrete. She was nearly one.’

  ‘Travis wouldn’t cover for her.’

  ‘No, I agree. You might like this more. If she was sedated, she might not have heard Chloe wake up in the night; Travis kills her when she won’t settle. She wouldn’t have heard anyone in the morning either.’

  They spent a few moments thinking in silence.

  ‘Fancy another visit to see her?’ asked Liam.

  ‘I’ve already organised one on Thursday. With Damian.’ She thought of Declan. Wondered how long before he found out about this case’s connection to Amber, and what it would cost her.

  Their eyes met over the remnants of dinner. Natalie drained the rest of her beer, stood up and wordlessly started to undress. Liam’s eyes never wavered, drinking every bit of her in. Despite being slight with a narrow waist and muscles taut from the workouts that were essential for her sanity, she had retained the fullness of breasts and hips. It was the first time Liam had seen her naked in the light, and he seemed to be enjoying the view. He moved closer, his hands tracing over the scars across her lower abdomen and pelvis, eyes me
eting hers with concern.

  ‘Don’t worry,’ said Natalie. ‘I was a passenger. I’ve never caused an accident.’

  ‘God, you are….’ Liam laughed. But it was the knowing amusement in his eyes that made her want him. ‘I can’t get enough of you,’ he said. He stood, still fully clothed, and pulled her towards him. She felt his belt buckle cold and hard against her stomach as his hands came over her butt and their lips met. Natalie pulled at his shirt, flesh on flesh sending tingles through her. She started to undo his belt but Liam stopped her, pulled it off himself, then grabbed her hands.

  ‘Perhaps I’ll try to tame you a bit,’ he said. ‘I still owe you for that debacle on the courtroom steps.’ Natalie saw that he meant to use the belt to tie her up and laughed.

  ‘You and who else?’ She was more than twenty kilos lighter, but she twisted effortlessly out of his grip. Liam wasn’t about to be deterred. Grabbing an arm he pulled her roughly and spun her into the wall behind, almost knocking the breath out of her. He was kissing her before she had a chance to move, using his weight to keep her from shifting.

  Natalie kissed him hard in return. For a moment he eased his body back, decreasing the pressure as his hands moved over her breasts. Natalie used the moment to push him off balance. A second push sent him over the back of the sofa. Natalie laughed and grabbed his trousers, which were now around his knees.

  Once they were both naked, he lay watching her as she arched her back and lowered herself over him, staring into his eyes. If he felt the flash of connection as strongly as she did, he reacted against it just as quickly, almost immediately flipping her over. It was an hour before they were sated. They fell back on the sofa, a mess of scattered fast-food containers and paperwork around them. Bob’s stand was horizontal; he’d moved to the banister.