Cold Deception

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Cold Deception Page 5

by D. B. Tait


  “You’re depressed, Jules. You want to escape in dream land. You’ve got two choices. I can give you some medication or you can start moving. Get those endorphins going.”

  That’s when she’d taken up walking. In her cell, around and around the compound, then when she hit minimum security at Emu Plains, down to the dairy to milk the cows.

  Dr. Devlin was right. It did help. She spent most of her sentence walking.

  But now she couldn’t face another intense experience. Seeing her parole officer wouldn’t be a picnic. Her appointment was at eleven a.m. and it was only ten fifteen, which astonished her. She felt she’d lived through a whole day. Maybe she could nick over to Zuppa’s and get some coffee.

  Her mind made up, she crossed the highway and walked through the railway underpass, now painted with colorful murals as a way of discouraging graffiti. When she reached the top of the steps, she found the wind had dropped and the sun was out. A classic mountains winter’s day. Clear and crisp. Full of sudden optimism, she entered Cafe Zuppa and hoped the coffee was as good as ten years ago.

  Sally sat at a table in earnest conversation with an older man who looked vaguely familiar.

  Another first. It seemed the day was full of them.

  She walked slowly out of the sunny day into the darkness of the cafe. Wood paneling topped with mirrors lined the walls in classic Art Deco style. As she made her way to Sally’s table she caught sight of herself and stopped. She looked haunted and wraith-like. Dark circles under her eyes and a look of desperation on her face. Her plan to not look like a victim didn’t seem to be working.

  As soon as Sally saw her, she leapt from the table and threw her arms around her.

  “Jules! It’s so good to see you.”

  Julia stood stiffly and let herself be hugged, then slowly relaxed into her old friend’s embrace. Sally visited her sporadically but consistently throughout the ten years, always making it clear she would not forget or abandon her. Sometimes Julia wished she wouldn’t come, not certain Sally didn’t visit her out of a sense of guilt.

  Guilt. Someday they had to resolve what was between them.

  “If I’d kept quiet about Father Pat, you wouldn’t be in this horrible place,” she’d tearfully said to Julia the first time she visited her.

  “That’s not true, Sal,” she replied, knowing Sally wouldn’t believe her. It was the truth, no matter what Sally thought. “What I did was my responsibility and no one else’s.”

  Sally shook her head then dried her tears. They never mentioned it again.

  Now, Sally broke her embrace and held Julia away from her, peering into her face.

  “You’re pale. Sit with us and let me buy you a big, gooey cake with lots of cream. And a double shot café latte. Make you fat and speedy at the same time.”

  Julia laughed. Sally always had the ability make her laugh. She felt relaxed for the first time in a long time. Sally would ignore the last ten years and just pick up where they left off. Which usually involved sitting in this cafe, drinking coffee and giggling. What she wouldn’t give to do exactly that right now. But the other occupant of the table didn’t look like the giggling type.

  “Jules, this is Douglas Sinclair. He’s a psychiatrist up here and does some work at the Health Center. This is my old friend Julia Taylor.”

  “Good to meet you, Julia,” he said, standing and holding out his hand. “How’s it going?”

  She let him take her hand and studied him. Tall, maybe in his forties, with salt and pepper shaggy hair and kind eyes that regarded her with friendly sympathy. She made herself smile wondering if Eleanor saw him as a client. She’d mentioned she’d been seeing a psychiatrist over the years. If she did see him, he probably knew a lot about the notorious Julia Taylor. Most people knew a lot about her. That realisation hit her with sudden force. She thought she could become anonymous and disappear into the ether after she got out, but that wouldn’t happen for a while, if ever.

  “Sit,” said Sally. “I’ll order something for you.”

  She hailed the waitress and ordered coffees and cake.

  “Nothing for me,” said Douglas.

  She scoffed. “Don’t tell me you’re on a health kick again?”

  He laughed and patted his stomach. “It’s never a good idea to put on the pounds. Not at my age.”

  “You’re not too old.”

  There was a tone to Sally’s voice that made Julia look at her sharply. Sally smiled at him, a flirtatious gleam in her eye. When Julia glanced at him to see his reaction, he smiled widely but remained silent.

  As if suddenly remembering Julia was present, Sally patted her hand.

  “How’s Blossom? I ran into Dee earlier and she told me what happened.”

  Julia grimaced. “She’s in a bad way. She needs rehab, but I don’t think she’ll go. Have you met this boyfriend of hers?”

  “Rez?” She shook her head. “Just heard about him. Nothing good, I’m afraid. He’s heavily involved in the Western Sydney drug scene. Every time the two of them have visited your mom over the past few months, he’s been seen doing the rounds, selling and scoring. He’s seriously bad news.”

  “When does Blossom get out of detox?” Douglas asked. “If she won’t go to rehab, would she do some out-patient counseling? I do a clinic at the Community Health Center. I’d be happy to see her.”

  Julia regarded him with interest. This must be the Doc Sinclair Dylan mentioned.

  “I’ve met you before, haven’t I?”

  He nodded. “I moved up to the mountains a couple of years before…” He looked embarrassed as if he couldn’t find the right words. There weren’t any right words for what she’d done.

  “Before my fall from grace,” Julia said, with a sigh. “It’s okay. I won’t fall to pieces if you mention it.”

  He smiled awkwardly. “I met you one day at Dee’s nursery. I’m a gardener and Dee fuels my addiction.”

  Julia laughed. “I haven’t heard gardening referred to like that. It’s a good addiction to have.”

  Their coffees arrived, which gave Julia some space to watch the two of them watching each other.

  Well, well. Big age difference, but what did that matter? He seemed nice and friendly and God knew, Sally deserved someone nice and friendly in her life. Half her luck.

  “Some out-patient counseling might be possible,” Julia said. “Have you met Blossom?”

  He nodded again. “A few times. At the shop or with your mother.”

  “Did you treat Eleanor?”

  He shifted in his seat and took a sip of water out of the glass in front of him, avoiding her gaze.

  “That’s not something I can talk about. You need to ask her.”

  Julia shrugged. “I only ask because Eleanor seems well. Whatever treatment she’s had over the years seems to have helped.”

  He raised his eyes and regarded her impassively.

  Sally laughed. “Give it up, Julia. You won’t get anything out of him. I’ve never come across a health professional who keeps everything so close to his chest. The soul of absolute discretion.”

  “It’s a small town. No one would see me if I got a reputation for breaching professional ethics. Nor should they.”

  Defensive with a hint of pomposity. Ah, well. Each to his own.

  “And on that note, I must go.” He looked at his watch. “Damn it. I’m running late for my next appointment. I have to go down to Nepean Hospital later. Would you like me to look in at Blossom, Julia? See if she’s willing to see me professionally?”

  Julia smiled at him with gratitude, a little shamefaced at her uncharitable thoughts. “That would be great, Douglas. We’re all at a bit of a loss about what to do with her.”

  He patted her shoulder as he passed her on the way out.

  “I’ll see what I can do.”

  *

  Julia picked up her coffee cup and eyed Sally speculatively. “He seems nice.”

  “Douglas? Yes, of course. Someone like that who
works for next to nothing seeing people who can’t afford a psychiatrist has to be a decent human being.”

  Julia said nothing but raised her eyebrows questioningly.

  “What?”

  “Did I detect a little frisson of something going on between the two of you?”

  Sally turned pale and stammered. “No! Not at all. God, Jules he was my therapist. I saw him for a couple of years after the court case. I don’t know what I would’ve done without his support.”

  Julia almost dropped her cup onto the table, sloshing coffee over the rim.

  “I’m so sorry, Sal. Just ignore me.” Her throat tightened with shame-filled tears. “I don’t know anything about men or relationships or anything,” she blurted. ‘I don’t know how to read them. I’m an idiot.”

  She felt Sally’s concerned gaze on her while she avoided looking at her friend. If the earth could just swallow her up…

  “Jules, it’s okay. Don’t worry about it. You’re bound to find it difficult for a while. Make mistakes. I’m your friend. I want to support you.”

  She reached out and squeezed Julia’s hand. “You haven’t had any of this divine lemon meringue pie. Do I have to feed it to you? I will if you don’t start on it.”

  Julia tasted the tangy pie and almost swooned.

  “This is fantastic. Mmm…”

  Sally exploded into laughter. “You look like a teenager again. I need to see more of that look on your face.”

  “I feel like a teenager. Gormless and awkward.”

  “It’ll pass. Most people won’t notice.” She took a sip of her coffee. “Tell me more about Blossom.”

  Julia filled her in about Dylan’s delivery of Blossom to the Taylor doorstep.

  “Mmm. The dishy and mysterious Dylan Andrews. A man that’s set the female hearts of the upper mountains community a-flutter.”

  “Mysterious? Why mysterious?”

  Sally shrugged. “No one knows much about him. He’s friendly enough and has a reputation of being fair and compassionate, which is a nice change in a cop. Transferred here about two years ago. There’s been some speculation he had some trauma in his past that made him want to get out of Sydney. He’s on the Domestic Violence Steering Committee and gets on well with the Coordinator, Jenny, which is a miracle since she doesn’t have much time for men and even less for cops. Which reminds me…”

  Sally paused and narrowed her eyes at Julia. “I want you to come onto the Management Committee of the Women’s Health Center. We’ve all discussed it and we think your experience would be invaluable.”

  Julia almost fell off her chair. “Me? What experience? I went into jail when I was twenty. I’d hardly done anything in my life before that. What could I possibly have to offer your management committee?”

  “Ten years of doing time in New South Wales prisons. That’s a lifetime of experience worth a lot.”

  Julia couldn’t believe her ears. “But I don’t know anything. No. No. I can’t…” She stammered. “I can’t… I don’t know them…”

  “Shh. It’s okay Julia. Don’t worry. They’re a great bunch of women. Think about it. Maybe in a few weeks after you’ve settled in.”

  Julia fought to keep the panic reined in. This was silly. Why couldn’t she be on a committee? But the thought of facing people she didn’t know, who knew all about her, was too hard.

  “Shit! What time is it? I have to go and see my parole officer. I can’t be late.”

  “It’s just before eleven. Come on, I’ll walk you over.”

  Chapter 4

  Julia sat in the chilly foyer and contemplated the notice board in front of her. If she used drugs, had unprotected sex, or was homeless the information would be relevant. She couldn’t see anything about crazy sisters, guilt-stricken mothers or sexy cops. Sighing, she glanced down at the card in her hand. David Warren.

  As instructed by her case worker before she left custody, she’d rung him late in the afternoon on her third day out and endured his irritable snarl that she should’ve contacted him as soon as she arrived home. Not wanting to get him off side, she’d apologized, trying to sound suitably servile. This man could recommend she go back to jail if she didn’t toe the line. Not that she had any intention of being rebellious. Quite the opposite. A quiet life was all she wanted.

  A weak wall heater was attempting to heat the bare space unsuccessfully. She glanced at the receptionist behind the perspex barrier, certain her heating was keeping her toasty warm. As if she’d spoken, the receptionist looked up and frowned at her. ‘Doreen’, said her name tag. Blonde hair with just a hint of black roots, talons for nails that clicked on her keyboard as she typed, and a deep vertical frown line on her forehead. She looked like life constantly disappointed her. Not so surprising in this office.

  Julia pulled her coat more closely around her as the door slammed open and just as quickly slammed closed. Her heart sank as she realized who’d arrived.

  Rez. It couldn’t be anyone else. His resemblance to Blossom was both horrifying and fascinating.

  “Fuckin’ cold out there, isn’t it?”

  They were about the same height and build, had the same ratty dyed black hair, facial piercings and bizarrely the same dark eyeliner. If anything, he looked even more skeletal than Blossom. She wondered if he modeled himself on Captain Jack Sparrow. Unfortunately he had all of the trash but none of the whimsy of the Johnny Depp character. The smell of stale sweat and cigarettes filled the small area.

  His dirty black jeans hung from his thin hips while his sheep wool lined jacket was grubby and torn. This was the wonderful Rez, the man her sister was willing to throw her life away over? A black tide of fury slammed into her. She fought to keep her mouth shut and her gaze averted from him. Closing her eyes, she again remembered to breathe and let go of her anger. After Blossom had been admitted to detox, she’d given herself a good talking to, determined not to take responsibility for Blossom’s life. She’d done that once but wouldn’t again. She would support Blossom in whatever way she could, but in the end she had to make her own decisions.

  He sauntered over to Doreen and muttered his name. She snarled at him and directed him to a seat. Good old Doreen. An equal opportunity grouch. He shuffled back to a seat and threw himself into it.

  “Fuckin’ bitch,” he muttered.

  Julia glanced at Doreen wondering if she heard, but her head was bent over her typing.

  “Thinks she’s better than everyone else. All these parole people are the same.” He turned to her. “How long you been waiting?”

  She debated ignoring him but saw he was jittery in his seat. Probably had a shot of something before he came. He was dumb as well as aggressive. Any parole officer could see he was under the influence. He’d be lucky not to be breached.

  “Not long,” she said.

  He snorted then stared around him. Too jumpy to sit still, he stood and peered at the notice board.

  “What crap,” he muttered.

  He shoved his hands in his pockets and did a slow perusal of the foyer as if looking for something that could entertain him. His eyes rested on Julia. She could see his over-cooked brain trying to compute something.

  No, no, no. Just ignore me.

  “Hey. You’re Julia, aren’t you?” He smiled widely revealing a chipped front tooth. “I’m Rez. Blossom’s boyfriend. We came up to see you.”

  He bounded over to her and threw himself into the seat next to her.

  “I saw her this morning. She’s okay. Just a few pills, nothing serious. She didn’t need an ambulance, you know.”

  Julia turned to him and saw the look of calculation in his eyes. As if weighing up whether to go on the attack or get her on side.

  “You don’t think? The fact she was almost unconscious didn’t warrant medical attention? Is that what the two of you normally do?”

  She kept her voice low, trying to give him the message any conversation was unwelcome.

  He sneered at her. “What we do doesn’t co
ncern you. Unless you want some stuff? Just out of jail and all. Most chicks are gagging for a little taste. And not just of gear.”

  He leered at her while doing a quick perusal of her body.

  “You’ve got more flesh than Blossom. I like that.”

  The rage continued to pulse at the back of her eyes.

  “What you like doesn’t concern me, you repulsive piece of dirt. Stay away from my sister.”

  He leapt out of his seat and backed away from her, then tottered back to stand over her.

  “Who the fuck do you think you are, bitch,” he yelled. “Blossom and I can do what we like without getting permission from you, cunt. You can’t control everyone, especially me.”

  Julia glanced at Doreen who was on the phone speaking animatedly to someone, a look of panic in her eyes. Maybe if he went right over the top, they’d call the cops and breach him right away.

  “But I can make life very difficult for you, asshole. Although you’re well on the way to doing that yourself. You don’t think this David Warren guy won’t notice you’re stoned? He’ll know you’re facing further charges so when I tell him what’s happened to Blossom, he’s going to breach you, probably right now. You’re a complete fuck up.”

  “Don’t you speak to me like that.” He grabbed her by her coat and threw her against the wall. “No one speaks to me like that.”

  Her head hit the wooden paneling with a thump. It hurt but wasn’t as bad as the rank smell of Rez up close. His crazy bloodshot eyes bored into her. They better get their act together and either call the police or do something. He was on the verge of hitting her.

  “Why not? Because you slap it out of them? Is that what you do to Blossom? Big man. Tough man. Not so tough when they throw you inside.”

  “Stop it!” yelled Doreen. “I’ve called the police.”

  That seemed to penetrate his drug-hazed mind. He let go of her and made for the door. Julia grabbed his arm just as the inner door to the parole office opened.

  “I meant what I said. Leave her alone or you’ll answer to me.”

  He shook her off and stumbled out the door, then ran across the square and down the street.

 

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