by Jaye Ford
‘Well, I was going to talk to you about it over the phone but Bess had homework problems and it got late and I couldn’t think straight anymore.’ She made a face. It was apologetic but it seemed a little blasé.
It was their accountant’s report, the one they needed to work out how to dig themselves out of their financial hole. There was nothing to be blasé about. ‘You’re sure it was okay?’
‘We’ve got options. They’re all laid out in the report.’
Liv dragged teeth over her bottom lip, not sure what to think.
‘Why don’t you go home now? You look exhausted,’ Kelly said.
She’d taken painkillers and attempted to trawl through emails and invoices without much forward progress. ‘I should make some calls first.’
‘Not in the state you’re in. Anyone you talk to will think you’re dying.’
Liv leaned on the doorjamb and let out a sigh. ‘I feel like I should be doing something. Not going home.’
‘You should be resting, not worrying.’
‘But . . .’
‘Liv, go home,’ Kelly said as she rounded her desk. She looked as if she was ready to walk her out the door if she didn’t do it herself. ‘You’ll be able to do more tomorrow if you take a break now.’
Kelly was right, Liv knew she was. It didn’t stop her feeling guilty about all the time away from the office this week. ‘Okay. I’ll go.’
‘Do you want to come around later? For dinner? I could pick you up on the way home.’
That would require conversation and decent table manners instead of pyjamas in front of the telly. And with any luck, she’d have new locks by then and could fall asleep on the lounge without the fear of home invasion. ‘Thanks, but I’ll pass. I need sleep more than a decent meal.’
Park Street was quieter when she left. She walked on the inside of the footpath, close to the shopfronts, feeling more secure with solid buildings on one side of her. But as she passed the bakery and a menswear store and a chemist, she started to wonder about their plate glass windows. Maybe the man who attacked her worked behind one. Or maybe he could push her hard up against one, thrust a knife in her gut and be gone before anyone saw a thing. The thought made her move to the centre of the footpath and hold her handbag across her chest.
Her father was asleep when she got to his room. She pulled a chair up to the bed, eased quietly into it and watched him. The deep lines in his well-worn face were as familiar and comforting as ever. Today there seemed to be a softness to them that she hadn’t seen in a while, as though the cancer had loosened its hold on him in his sleep, letting him regain enough strength for another round. She ran a finger across his forehead, gently so as not to wake him, feeling the warmth of his skin, wanting to gather him in her arms and hold him close.
It had been going on so long now. He’d been admitted six weeks after Thomas left, held on months longer than expected. She didn’t know anymore whether to wish him strength or pray for surrender.
No, that wasn’t true. Liv wanted him to hold on. It was selfish, she knew. He was in constant pain and his body had withered more than she believed possible for a man of his size. But she didn’t want him to go. Didn’t want to lose anyone else. Didn’t want to be alone.
Daniel was sitting in a four-wheel drive at the kerb when Liv arrived at the townhouse. The big, dark vehicle followed her up the driveway and by the time she’d parked in the garage and walked back to it, he had a clipboard in his hand and was surveying the property like a real estate agent – except for the clothes. The suit was gone and he was in dark, heavy-duty work trousers and shirt with huge, thick-soled boots. He looked more comfortable than he did in a tie and a whole lot more like a door-busting firefighter than any consultant she’d ever seen. It reminded her why so many women swooned over firemen.
‘I didn’t expect you.’ Liv glanced into the rear compartment of his car, saw it was loaded with boxes like the ones stacked in his office.
He looked along the pathway that led around the back of the townhouse. ‘I couldn’t get anyone else so I found some extra time.’
She felt a quick pulse of guilt. He’d already done enough. She wanted to tell him she could find someone else – but she wasn’t an idiot. ‘Thank you. Again.’
‘I heard about the notes,’ he said as he walked back to her.
‘Teagan must have sent out a newsletter to all occupants.’
‘No, I heard it from Rachel Quest.’
Liv frowned. ‘Did she call you about them?’
‘No, she wanted to check some of the details in my statement.’
She watched as he made a note on his clipboard. ‘How well do you know her?’ she asked.
‘We worked on a couple of fire investigations together.’
‘Is she any good? Some of her questions are a little . . . off base.’
‘She’s been around, she knows how to handle a case.’
‘She seems really busy.’
He shrugged. ‘All cops are busy.’
Too busy to fit Liv’s stalker into her schedule? ‘Okay, well, where do you want to start?’
She took him all the way around the townhouse, the dog in the yard behind barking as they crossed the courtyard. Daniel made no comments, just followed and looked, up and down, back and forth. She guessed she was getting the full security treatment.
At the front door, he stood beside the removalists’ boxes and gave the room the once-over. ‘When did you move in?’
‘A month ago.’
‘Tough month to get beaten up.’
‘You got that right.’
She pointed out the loose fit on the front door, the dodgy latch on the back sliding door, the lack of any lock on the kitchen window. Then she led the way upstairs, gave him a brief tour of her room and the bathroom. He paused in the doorway of Cameron’s bedroom. It was the only room she’d paid any attention to. She’d painted it deep green, hung curtains, found matching sheets and bedcovers, organised shelves and his sports gear.
‘Your son likes soccer, huh?’ Daniel was looking at the poster of David Beckham in full flight but the soccer boots and balls were the real giveaway.
‘He thinks he’s going to play in the English Premier League.’
‘What kid doesn’t?’ He grinned.
It sounded like experience. She considered the fine lines fanning out from the corners of his eyes and guessed he was in his mid-thirties. Possibly she had a year or two on him. Possibly she just felt old. But he was plenty old enough to have kids playing soccer. ‘Have you got children?’
‘Three nieces and four nephews.’ He said it like it was an accomplishment.
‘Almost a soccer team.’ She imagined seven unnaturally tall children running around a pitch and felt a sudden tap of longing for her only child to live in his room long enough to mess it up. She turned away and left Daniel to it.
‘Okay,’ he began when he was back in the lounge room, flipping through the pages on his clipboard. ‘I’ve got the locks you need in the car but you’ve got a couple of other security issues.’ He told her the packing boxes at the front door and in the hall upstairs reduced line of sight and would make it difficult to move around quickly in an emergency. The ones in the garage could provide cover for an intruder and should be stacked against the wall. She also needed better lighting outside, the hedge in the driveway cut back and full-length window coverings in the lounge room. ‘I’ll start with the locks downstairs and get the lower level secured then move up top.’
Secure was what she wanted. ‘Great.’
As he left to collect gear from his car, she took a look in the fridge at options for dinner. Cheese and tomato on crackers or cheese and gherkins on crackers. In the silence, she heard a faint trill from her bag on the counter. She dug her new phone out, checked the caller ID and swore u
nder her breath.
13
‘This is the third time I’ve called. How would you know if anything was wrong with your son if you don’t pick up your phone?’
Liv clenched her teeth. ‘Is there a reason you called, Thomas, because if you’re just trying to score points, I don’t have the time.’
She heard his irritated intake of breath. ‘I don’t appreciate you ringing Cameron at my house and telling him to ignore Michelle’s instructions for a bath. It shows a lack of respect for Michelle and undermines her authority.’
What planet was he on? She didn’t give a toss about respect for Michelle. ‘I rang to tell Cam about the story on the news. I told him to have a bath so he wouldn’t watch it.’
‘And that’s my next point. For God’s sake, what were you thinking going on TV looking like that? Was it your idea or did Sheridan talk you into it?’
Liv’s high heels clacked on the tiles as she paced out her frustration across the kitchen. ‘It’s got nothing to do with you.’
‘But how it affects my son does. I’ve told you before where I stand on encouraging your father’s pugilistic skills. And frankly, it’s inappropriate for you to discuss with him how you belted someone, let alone making a public spectacle of it. As I said, what were you thinking?’
Liv pressed herself to the sink and glared at the fence beyond the window. ‘I was attacked in the car park, Thomas. I thought people should be warned that the bastard who did it is still out there. And there is nothing inappropriate about telling Cameron I defended myself.’
‘Looking like a ghoul on TV isn’t an appropriate way to try to win your son’s favour. I know you’re upset with how things turned out but you should think before you pull a stunt like that.’
The same futile, impotent fury she’d been feeling for a year surged through her. There was no point defending herself. It wouldn’t make an iota of difference. Neither would swearing but it felt better than nothing. ‘Fuck off, Thomas.’ She hung up, swore again.
‘Everything okay?’
Liv’s head shot up. Daniel was standing in the middle of the lounge room. How much had he heard? ‘I didn’t realise you were there.’
He lifted the drill in his hand. ‘I was looking for a power point, didn’t want to disturb you.’
‘Might have been better if you had.’ She tried to make light of it, only managed a short, tight laugh.
‘Your ex?’
‘Yes.’
‘Does he have a key to your townhouse?’
‘No. Not unless Cameron gave him one.’
‘Make sure he doesn’t get the new one.’
She wanted to tell him Thomas wouldn’t come around and harass her but twelve months ago she wouldn’t have predicted they’d be exchanging nasty phone calls over their son. Physical aggression wasn’t Thomas’s thing, though. He specialised in emotional pain.
She took the cord from Daniel and flicked the power on.
‘Thanks,’ he said but stayed where he was as though he might be thinking about saying more.
‘Don’t let me hold you up,’ she told him. ‘I’m going to get changed and kick something.’
She caught the small lift to his eyebrow as she passed him. Yeah, well, who cares what he thought? He was nice – and tall, like Kelly said. And his shoulders were impressive. But she was too pissed off with the world to entertain the idea of any kind of . . . boyfriend or something casual. Either-or, it was beyond her capabilities right now. Still, she could do without him thinking she was a total wreck. She had a bit to go before she qualified for that title.
She swapped to sweatpants and a T-shirt, then shoved the boxes about in the hallway for a while, hoping it’d burn off some steam. It didn’t even break a sweat. Daniel was working on the sliding door when she reached the bottom of the stairs so she checked out the chunky security chain on the front door and tried the new deadlock, twisting it back and forth, rattling it about.
‘That’s much better, thanks.’ She wrapped an arm around one of the boxes and heaved it up.
‘Want a hand?’ Daniel called.
‘No. I want locks. I can handle this.’ Needed to, was what she meant.
She spent fifteen minutes hefting boxes and lugging them to the garage, stacking them against the wall, feeling the effort chew into her anger. Then she started on the ones that were already there.
They were filled with dinner sets and glassware and ornaments she’d collected over ten years of marriage – memories more than possessions. They were heavy and hard to lift and hurt her hand, the labels on the sides reminding her of what she’d packed away, making her heart ache, too. She probably should have taken a break but she just wanted the job done now so she didn’t have to come back and remember all over again later.
She lifted a case labelled Dinner Set – 5th Anniversary and lost her hold. The cardboard split as it hit the floor and lovely eggshell-blue crockery smashed on the concrete. Sudden fury exploded from her in a hoarse shout, rising up from inside her as though it’d been waiting just under the surface for a chance to escape. As the sound rebounded off the brick walls, she lashed out at the broken box with a running shoe. Heat stung her eyes. Don’t, Liv. Not over Thomas.
‘Livia?’
She jumped like a shot had gone off, saw Daniel at the access door witnessing yet another of her moments and embarrassment amplified her anger. ‘You should make some damn noise when you’re in someone’s house. And stop calling me Livia, for God’s sake. You’re sneaking around and watching me fall apart so just . . . call me Liv.’ She turned away and shoved her hands onto her hips, silently chastising herself. He didn’t say anything, didn’t make a sound. No prizes for guessing what he thought now. She attempted a dignified breath, looked back to where he still stood in the doorway.
‘You want a hand or does the yelling help?’ he asked.
‘No and no.’
She hoped that would make him go back to the locks but he stepped into the garage, taking in the cartons she’d transferred and the smashed crockery before he stopped in front of her. ‘Anger and tears are a normal reaction to what you’ve been through.’
She huffed a cynical laugh. He only knew about the latest episode. ‘So falling apart is normal?’
‘It doesn’t mean you’re falling apart.’
What did he know? She clasped her hands behind her head like she was out of breath and tried to rein in the emotional storm that had been living inside her and growing for months. As she pulled in fresh air, Daniel’s eyes wandered to her right bicep. He moved closer, took hold of her wrist and turned the pale inside of her arm towards the harsh garage light, exposing the bruising.
‘It looks like a handprint,’ he said.
‘It is.’
He ran the tips of rough fingers gently over the skin as though he could read the circles of discolouring like Braille. She wanted to pull away from the intimacy but as he reached for her other hand, she just watched as he traced another warm path across its matching pattern.
‘I was lucky,’ Liv said.
Dark eyes looked up at her. ‘No, you were smart. You followed your instincts.’
‘I could’ve run.’
‘Better to take out a knee first. Boxing doesn’t teach you that but nothing disables faster than a heel smashed into a knee. Knock ’em down then run like hell.’
She wasn’t sure whether to be appalled or grateful for the advice. Maybe both. ‘I just wish I knew whether he’d been watching the building or watching me.’ She looked up at the three high windows. It was dark outside now. It made her uneasy.
‘Are you cold?’ he asked.
‘No, I’m . . . scared.’
‘Fear is an instinct, Liv.’
‘Maybe but I don’t like it.’
‘You should listen to it.
It can help you.’
So far, all it’d done was make her feel vulnerable. ‘Oh yeah. How?’
He either missed the scepticism in her voice or chose to ignore it as he arranged his body against the side of her car, crossing one ankle over the other as though he was settling in for an extended session.
‘Fire Rescue puts you in places no one should go,’ he told her. ‘The natural reaction is fear. It’s your brain telling you to get the hell out of there. But if you can’t, if it’s your job to stay, you’ve got to bypass the emotion and start listening to it. The thing to know about fear is that it makes you overcautious and hyper alert, which are good things when your life is in danger. I’m guessing that since Monday night, your brain is registering every dark space as threatening.’
She glanced outside again, nodded.
‘It feels frightening but it’s actually your brain telling you to watch out so you don’t get surprised in the dark again. The notes are giving you another reason to be worried. So use your fear to be safe and to give yourself some reassurance. Let the hyper alertness do its job.’
Okay, he knew what he was talking about and it sounded productive, assertive, practical. Everything she wanted to be. ‘How do I do that?’
‘Some of it comes down to what you know about your environment, but you’ve only been here a few weeks and you’re probably not that familiar with it. So get to know it. What’s normal and what’s not. What’s there and what isn’t. What you can see from different vantage points, what you hear and smell.’ As he said it, a weak light from a neighbour’s yard cast a soft glow across the ceiling. Daniel cocked his head at it. ‘Learn what the neighbours do, what cars they drive, what their kids and pets look like, where they leave their bins. The details. And if something doesn’t look the way it should, you’ll know and you can make a call on it.’
Liv lifted her eyes to the windows once more, wondered what kind of call she’d have to make.
‘A cave-in starts with a crack, Liv. Believe me, I know. Pay attention and be ready to get the hell out.’