by Sara Foster
When she had finished talking, they both said little. The atmosphere in the cramped flat was dense.
After a while, he whispered to her:
‘It wasn’t easy for me, Amy. I was miserable for a long, long time. I even went back, you know – to Perth – a couple of years later. I thought I could play detective somehow, that if I found the men who attacked you, I might somehow karmically bring you back to me. But it was a waste of time, of course. There were no unsolved precedents to your attack; nothing new to uncover, however long I wandered around for. I didn’t really know what I was looking for anyway, and the police didn’t have time for me. I gave up after a few weeks and came home. Then I drank for a while… but pulled myself through that eventually when I realised how much I was upsetting my folks. And I tried to support your mum, until she cut me off. I checked in with missing persons regularly. I saw you everywhere, on the street, waiting for buses. I thought about you all the time, every minute…’ His voice trailed off. Silence reigned again.
After an age, Alex lifted his head and said softly: ‘I haven’t changed my mind, Amy. I’ll come with you… to Australia.’
‘Alex, you really don’t have to… there’s no point,’ she replied, hardened against his emotion.
‘Yes, I do,’ he answered, reaching across to tilt her chin up so she could look him in the eye. ‘And there is a point, of course there is. I’m sorry, it’s just that Chloe…’ His voice cracked on her name and he shook his head as he added, ‘God knows what she’s thinking, I can’t even find her to talk to right now. It’s not an easy situation all round,’ he finished.
Spite ran through her like an electric current. ‘I’m not asking you to risk your perfect marriage,’ she spat at him. ‘I haven’t asked you for anything.’
‘I know,’ he said, studying her face. ‘But if you want to go back, then I will go with you,’ he added, and there was fire in his eyes.
The bitterness ebbed in her as fast as it flowed. She looked down. ‘Thank you.’
Alex reached across and stroked her cheek with the back of his hand. She had to stop herself from leaning into the pressure of his fingers. ‘It will be okay, Amy. You can do this. I think maybe you should do this. I think perhaps I’ve come back into your life for this.’
She nodded, looking down at his chest. ‘I know,’ she said as he pulled her close. She wanted so much to believe in his words. She was praying that now he was back with her, Alex could make it all right.
An avalanche of decisions and deliberations came crashing over her, and she realised she couldn’t do it. She wasn’t strong enough. What was she thinking? But she had no choice now. She had to go to Australia. If she backed out, then Alex would disappear from her life again.
Alex began to tell her that he was trying to reshuffle his client commitments for the next few weeks, and some were being more cooperative than others. He spoke anecdotally, but she felt guilty. It hadn’t really registered or concerned her at all that he was risking his marriage for her, as a large part of her thought that he shouldn’t be married in the first place. But causing his business to go on the slide suddenly felt like too much to ask.
‘Alex, you don’t have to -’ she began.
‘Amy, stop it. I’m coming.’ His voice was firm. Then he paused, and she could tell he had something more he wanted to say to her by the stiffness of his shoulders and the set of his jaw. He took a deep breath. ‘Amy… your dad…’
‘Is dead,’ she said in a monotone. She put down a biscuit she had been nibbling on, which seemed suddenly dry and stale.
Alex nodded. ‘I went to his funeral,’ he murmured. ‘I was hoping you would be there.’
‘I couldn’t…’ she said, staring at the wall behind his head.
‘I know. I spoke to your mum. She was very upset.’
Her gaze moved to meet his. ‘Al, what is this? Are you trying to give me a guilt trip? You don’t need to, okay? I already feel responsible. If it hadn’t happened, if I hadn’t run away, caused him so much stress…’
Alex looked alarmed, and she saw the knife edge he was on, trying to talk to her yet worried she might snap at any second.
‘No, no, that wasn’t what I meant. I just -’
She held her hand up. ‘I just couldn’t, okay? I hope perhaps Mum understands now – now it was so long ago. At the time it was too… difficult for me.’
‘Of course,’ Alex nodded, and his hand moved to cover hers. She let it, but her eyes slid away from his, down to her lap. Because she couldn’t deny it any longer – she was still lying to him. He thought he knew everything now but he had barely scratched the surface. And what would he think of her when he did?
66
‘Sit down, Mark,’ Neil said from behind the desk as Mark appeared at his office door. He waved a hand in the direction of a vacant chair.
Mark sat.
‘Now then,’ Neil began, leaning forward. ‘You two give me a rundown of exactly how far you’ve got with the Abbott research.’
Mark stared at his yellow legal pad uncomfortably, waiting to see if Chloe would speak first, but she appeared to be deferring to him.
‘Anytime now would be good,’ Neil said, leaning back and steepling his fingers.
Mark looked up. ‘I’ve been going over everything,’ he said. ‘And I’ve found a few interesting and relevant precedents. When I’ve finished I’ll draw up a memo -’
Neil held up a hand. ‘The time for memos has long passed, Mark.’ He leaned forward again, and this time there was menace in it. ‘Do you realise,’ he growled, looking between the two of them, ‘that we begin in two weeks? It is undoubtedly the biggest case we have ever had in this office and we are woefully – WOEFULLY – under-prepared.’
Mark surreptitiously looked at Chloe, wishing she would join in. She glanced at both of them, then back to the files on her lap. Mark was alarmed to see her eyes were moist. Oh god, Chloe, don’t cry. Not in the office.
Mark’s gaze moved back to Neil, unsure of what to do next, but to his surprise found that Neil was distracted, staring over Mark’s head, his face alarmed. Mark barely had time to turn around before he registered, with dismay, a booming voice.
‘Not disturbing anything, am I?’ it said, and then there was a showy and rather irrelevant rat-a-tat on the office door.
There stood Henry, last seen semicomatose on Mark’s bed, where he’d left him an hour earlier.
At first glance, Mark thought it might have been worse. Henry was decked out in what appeared to be one of Mark’s pinstriped suits, with a navy tie neatly tucked in. But his father hadn’t shaved. And the waft of alcohol hit Mark and disturbed his recently breakfast-lined stomach at the same time that he registered Henry hadn’t done up the button of his trousers, which were straining badly at the extra bulk of him, plus he was only wearing one shoe.
Mark had a horrible flashback to the only time his father had come to school sports day, when he had run second in the egg-and-spoon race and caused a huge fuss afterwards, saying that the winner had made a false start and demanding a rematch. That had been excruciating, and it was about one hundred times less embarrassing than this.
He turned briefly back to the others, as if looking for help, but Neil appeared dumbstruck, and Chloe’s mouth was slightly open, though her face showed both concern and surprise.
There was nothing else for it. Mark sprang into action, jumping out of his chair and heading towards the door. ‘Dad…’
‘Not now, Mark,’ Henry said grumpily, and sidestepped him. ‘What are you fellows discussing?’ He glanced at the contents of Neil’s desk. ‘Ah, Abbott. Tricky one. Maybe I can help?’ And he sat down with a thump in the chair Mark had just vacated.
Mark looked at Neil, who was slowly recovering himself. ‘Henry,’ Neil said. ‘Would you like some water?’
‘I’ll get it,’ Chloe interjected, and rushed out before anyone could say anything.
Henry looked between Mark and Neil. ‘Good god, what’s
wrong with you two? You look like a pair of imbeciles.’ He guffawed, with no apparent awareness that the other two men remained stony-faced.
‘Excuse me a second, Henry,’ Neil said. He gave Mark a studied look as he walked past him, and Mark watched through the open door as Neil bent and murmured into his secretary’s ear, her glance behind confirming the topic of their discussion.
Mark looked at his father. ‘Dad, where’s your shoe?’
Henry peered down at his feet. ‘It’s…’ He lifted up his leg and wiggled his toes beneath his sock. ‘I thought it was…’ he mumbled, and looked around the floor and under the desk as though it had just jumped off his foot and hidden itself nearby.
Neil spoke from the doorway. ‘Mark. A word?’
Henry was down on his hands and knees now, searching for his missing shoe. ‘Sounds like you’re in trouble,’ he growled from the floor. ‘What have you done now?’
Mark didn’t reply and moved over to the doorway, his eyes not daring to leave his father so he could intercede in whichever embarrassing move Henry decided upon next.
‘Della is ordering a taxi,’ Neil hissed. ‘What’s going on?’
‘I wish I knew,’ Mark replied, casting an uneasy glance in Neil’s direction. ‘He’s been like this all weekend.’
Neil grimaced. ‘You’re going to have to take him home.’ He turned to look at Mark. ‘Are you sure you’re up for this workload at the moment, all things considered?’
Mark’s heart sank. He wanted to be in on this case; and he didn’t want to be remembered for letting them down when they needed him. ‘Of course,’ he said. ‘It’s fine – I can do what you asked, honestly, I’ll work on it all night if I have to.’
‘Mark, I don’t think -’
‘Neil,’ Mark said, his voice so unintentionally aggressive he feared Neil might react and sack him on the spot. ‘I can do it – I’m a good way through already – further on than it looks. I’ll bring all my research in first thing tomorrow.’
Neil sighed. ‘Okay then. It looks like you’ve got a lot to deal with today, but if you’re going to do this then don’t let me down, okay? We’re out of time on this one.’
‘I won’t,’ said Mark, wondering why he couldn’t have just taken the easy way out.
Henry refused to leave the office, until Mark told him that he was taking him home to show him the Abbott research as he needed his advice. It was humiliating, addressing his father in such a condescending way while Neil and Chloe watched. Neil had wanted to help them outside, but Mark had assured him they were fine, and had managed to steer his father through to the entranceway fairly quickly, just grateful that Neil’s office was near the main doors so there wasn’t far to go or too many people to pass. With the one or two offices they couldn’t avoid, Mark had looked in and waved at his colleagues, trying to keep up the appearance of normality, though since there was a secretary in on this, the episode would be travelling through the office gossip lines faster than the speed of light once they’d left, he was sure of that.
He was bundling his dad into the taxi when he heard his name being called. He turned around to see Chloe running up to him.
She looked at Henry in the car. ‘Mark, I’m so…’
He held up his hand. ‘Don’t, Chloe.’
‘God, Mark, I’m only saying -’
‘Look, I’ve got to go.’
She put a hand on his arm. ‘Call me, if you can’t cope with the work. I’ll help you. I’ve got nothing better to do.’
He looked at her hand and then into her face. ‘I thought you had just as many problems as me at the moment.’
She stared back at him. ‘My problems seem to have walked out on me,’ she said, her mouth a tight line.
Mark’s brow furrowed as he looked at her, slowly comprehending, then he heard a groan from inside the taxi. A look inside told him his father was going a strange colour, and the driver had turned around, eyeing him suspiciously.
‘I’m sorry, I’ve got to go,’ he said, and Chloe nodded and stepped back, then turned away and walked inside.
In the taxi Mark dialled his mother’s number.
‘Mark, I’m very busy,’ she snapped as she picked up. ‘What is it?’
‘I’m with Dad,’ he said. ‘He’s not very well.’
At that point his father leaned into his shoulder. ‘Are you speaking to Emily?’ he asked.
‘He sounds drunk,’ came his mother’s waspish voice on the other end. How the hell she could tell that from just a few words overheard down a phone line, Mark had no idea. ‘Is he drunk?’
‘Mum, Dad isn’t well,’ Mark tried again.
She snorted down the line. ‘I could have told you that years ago,’ she said.
‘MUM!’ Mark’s gradually eroded patience finally crumbled. ‘Dad is sick. Something is very wrong. I am taking him back to my apartment, and I want you to come over and sort this out. RIGHT NOW! My boss is going to sack me if I don’t keep on top of my caseloads, it’s a critical time at the moment -’
‘Mark, I’m at work right now.’ His mother wasn’t one for backing out of an argument. ‘I can’t just drop everything because your father chooses to -’
‘Dad just walked into the office wearing my suit with the trousers undone, and with only one shoe on,’ Mark announced. ‘From the sopping wet sock, I think he came all the way into town like that. He’s been comatose in my bed for much of the week. I haven’t had a straight word out of him. This is not just my problem, so stop being so selfish.’
He turned around to see Henry had fallen asleep, his head lolling back, his white-bristled jaw loose and his mouth hanging slackly open.
There was a long pause on the line, so long Mark thought his mother might have hung up. Then he heard her sigh. ‘I’m on my way,’ she said, her voice flat and defeated.
67
When Amy had first seen the reports, and Alex had explained that the police had linked this case to hers, she had seemed willing to confront the situation. But now, as Alex watched Amy, he began to worry. On one printout there had been a pixellated photo of one of the men, which had left her shaky and withdrawn. Perhaps that was playing on her mind, as Alex could tell she was having major doubts now, and he didn’t know how much heed to pay them.
Besides, he was having second thoughts as well. He felt very nervous. He didn’t know if he could trust either of them to act predictably or sensibly when they got there. How would Amy cope with seeing the men who had harmed her so terribly? And how would he handle it, come to that? But not going at all: that could be far worse, he knew, and he could not countenance it – that after all this time they would still be mired in the interminable decay of inaction.
Alex had the feeling that he was going to have to be the one to make plans. So once he had assured Amy he would be back later that afternoon, he headed outside.
As soon as he was in the fresh air he tried Chloe again: no answer on either her home phone or mobile. Where the hell was she? Desperate now, he rang the office again, and got Jana.
‘I need to find her straight away,’ he said tersely. ‘It’s urgent.’
‘I’m sorry, Alex.’ Jana sounded embarrassed. ‘She left half an hour ago with a bundle of work and said she’d be working at home this afternoon. Try her mobile.’
‘She never has it bloody switched on,’ he snapped, then added a quick ‘Sorry’ before they said their goodbyes.
Quickly, he made his way towards the station and home, dialling another number as he did so.
‘Lewis speaking,’ a voice cut in after a few rings.
‘Lewis, it’s Alex.’
‘Alex, don’t tell me you’ve finished our project already! Do you work at warp-speed?’
Alex laughed, trying not to dwell on the amount of work he had waiting for him.
‘No, Lewis, I’m ringing for a favour, actually; want to pick your legal brains. I’m following a trial that’s going on in Australia, and wondering how long it’s likely to last. I
need to know the procedure for this kind of thing.’
‘Well,’ came the reply, ‘it depends on all sorts of things – amount of witnesses and evidence – could be weeks, months… What’s it for?’
‘It’s a murder case – I’ll tell you what, I’ll forward you the web link, just give me a sec.’
‘All right, mate,’ Lewis replied. They hung up, Alex fired off the message, and his phone rang a few minutes later.
‘Won’t run for too much longer, I wouldn’t think…’ Lewis said without preamble.
Alex felt his sense of urgency increasing. ‘Okay, then; thanks, Lewis. I’ll make sure I get some design considerations to you asap.’
‘No problem, Alex, thanks. Although I thought you said your wife was a solicit-’
‘Thanks again, Lewis, much appreciated,’ Alex cut in, hanging up and praying he hadn’t sounded too discourteous.
The train, as always, took its time in getting him home. As he walked up the street, his heart sank when he saw that Chloe’s car wasn’t parked outside. His suspicions were confirmed once he opened the front door. The place was dark and empty. Upstairs, her toiletries had gone from the bathroom. She was staying somewhere else.
He left her a brief note saying he was looking for her, then headed out again. His mind was working frantically as he walked back towards the station. Chloe was doing a great job of avoiding him, and he and Amy were running out of time. By the time he reboarded the train he had made a decision.
When Alex got back to Amy’s ramshackle flat, he had news for her.
‘There’s a flight this evening, and I’ve reserved us seats,’ he told her.
‘What?’