by Anne Buist
‘Can we talk?’
This case seemed to be full of unpaid overtime with interviews crammed into spaces that didn’t exist. ‘Come in. I don’t have long.’
Natalie sent her in to her room and stuck her head into the office. ‘Your favourite patient is here,’ she said to Beverley. ‘Any chance of two coffees?’
Beverley didn’t just smile. She beamed. ‘Not a problem. Mark La Brooy’s been sacked, by the way. The paper has apologised too, for what it’s worth.’ Beverley handed her a sheet of paper. ‘Here’s the list of songs we want at the wedding.’ Natalie glanced at it—the first two were ‘Ave Maria’ and ‘Amazing Grace’.
‘Beverley, no way.’
‘You’ll be great,’ said Beverley, ignoring her as she went off to the kitchen. Natalie shook her head.
Jenna was sitting in the chair, bolt upright. She started when Natalie came in.
‘I want to start by saying I’m sorry.’ Jenna sounded more stressed than sorry, as if she’d rehearsed her lines. Probably had. With Li Yang coaching.
‘Sorry for what, Jenna?’
‘Not telling you about Luke.’
Natalie sat down; she wondered if she looked any better than Jenna, who appeared to have aged several years. Her red trousers were almost hanging off her. The eating disorder may well have flared up.
‘He’s an okay guy. Really.’
‘I’m not the one you need to tell this to, Jenna.’
‘Yes, you are.’ Jenna’s words came fast, and too intense. ‘I want you to understand.’ She took a breath. ‘I met him at work.’ Jenna saw Natalie’s look. ‘I only started dating him after I broke off with Malik.’
Maybe.
‘He’s got way more in common with me than Malik. We both did science degrees, he likes the same television shows, bushwalking. He doesn’t…he doesn’t drink, do drugs. And he doesn’t…’ Jenna fought to find the words. ‘He doesn’t make me feel like I’m less than him, you know? Malik always needed to feel…superior. A little comment, a snide remark. It wore me down, and I never really saw it until I was out of it.’
‘Jenna, no one is here to judge your choice of men. If you want to go into therapy to make sense of those choices, fine, but not now and not with me. This is about keeping your daughter safe. About providing her and Chris with a stable environment.’
‘You think I don’t know that?’ Jenna’s—lizar82’s—anger fired up, and she instantly looked less tired. ‘I didn’t want Malik to know about Luke. I told you about him checking up on me, right?’
Natalie nodded.
‘Well I really didn’t know how he’d react. He is unpredictable. And very…old world. Male honour, that kind of thing. I was worried. I’m still worried. Someone threw paint over Luke’s car—we couldn’t prove it was Malik, but it had to have been.’
I’ll kill him, he’d said.
‘When I had the feeling that something was really wrong with Chelsea I wasn’t stupid, okay?’ said Jenna. ‘But Luke has never been with the kids without me there. Usually they are with my mum, or before, with Ama. When I said I knew it couldn’t be him, I really did know. He’s good with Chris too, helps me be firm like you showed me that time.’
It was hard not to believe her; she certainly seemed to believe what she was saying.
Natalie thought back to Chelsea not liking the man who usurped her father. To the monster with the large phallic symbol.
‘Could Chelsea have seen you two…together?’
Jenna frowned. ‘You mean…like having sex?’
Natalie nodded.
‘No.’ The answer was too quick, not thought through. Jenna’s expression was all teenage sulk. ‘You aren’t listening to me. I’ve seen…I’ve seen how Malik looks at her, right? I know this isn’t going to stand up in court but I know he doesn’t think about her as a kid. Or at least, he has this, this…sense of ownership. It’s creepy.’
Maybe this was what Wadhwa had picked up. Had she missed it? She thought about how dismissive Malik had been of Chelsea needing her mother, his usual reflective capacity obliterated by his own anger and needs. But the same was happening with Jenna.
‘She was missing him, Jenna.’
‘She’s frickin’ eight. What the hell would she know?’ Jenna banged the table. ‘I tell you this started before Luke ever met her. It isn’t him. And I don’t trust Malik not to get on a frickin’ plane with them. His business, his uncle? They’re fricking criminals, okay? If anyone can get false passports, they could. My father thinks we should do it first—disappear, I mean. He’s always been against me seeing you but I was stupid enough to trust you.’
‘Chelsea’s being abused, Jenna. Putting your head in the sand won’t make it go away.’ Could it be someone other than Luke? Jenna was convincing. ‘Have you considered… Youssef? Teachers at school? Has she been over to stay at friends’ places?’
Jenna’s response was again too quick. ‘It has to be Malik, okay?’ There was an almost pleading edge to her tone; like she was desperate for Natalie to believe her. But why?
‘The police took her. Forcibly. Do you know how it makes me feel knowing she’s there, that I let them take her?’ Jenna looked at Natalie. ‘You got kids? Would you let a paedophile even live next door to your fricking kids?’
Jenna shook her head and got up to go. ‘If Malik thinks this is the end, he’s mistaken. I’ll never give up.’ She turned back at the door. Her green eyes stared coolly back. ‘I’ll kill him rather than let him have my daughter. I’m not taking a chance she ends up in the Middle East. I’d rather spend the rest of my life in prison knowing I saved her than leave her with that bastard.’
51
When Natalie got home, after leaving several messages at Malik’s, at his mother’s and on his mobile, Liam was waiting for her. He’d been leaving messages too, explaining why he’d taken off from the pub and not gone home with her. Something about James refusing to do a school debate unless he turned up. Really, it hadn’t mattered what the reason was—just something that helped her make up her mind.
‘Can we talk?’ he said.
‘I’ve got a meeting at the College in an hour.’ Natalie left the door open behind her as she and Bob went upstairs. Liam closed it softly behind him and followed.
‘You know I’m sorry, right?’
‘Yes, Liam, I know that.’ Natalie wished she didn’t feel so tired, physically and mentally. The pregnancy? Her bipolar? She was probably just tired of her life being out of control. And she so didn’t need this just before meeting with Rankin. ‘And I know you have to put your children first. I wouldn’t expect or want anything different.’
‘I sense a “but”.’
He looked tired, and sad. She saw the corner of his eye twitching under the unruly black curl, as it did when he got stressed; the tightness in his shoulders. He’d pulled his tie off, left his suit jacket in the car. She couldn’t think about his mouth and how it tasted and how he made her feel, because it would weaken her. Involuntarily her hand went to the bean—and Liam took the movement and all its significance in. She was sure he had reached the same decision as her if he was honest with himself—it was just hard.
‘I was wrong,’ said Liam softly. ‘I let Lauren manipulate me; she knows my buttons and pushed them.’
‘Did James do his debate?’
‘It was over before I got there, which she well knew.’ He stepped closer, put his hands on her shoulders. ‘I’m meeting for mediation, in an hour, just around the corner from here. I won’t let it happen again.’
But he wouldn’t risk losing his kids. ‘What does Lauren want?’
‘Revenge. To see me suffer. You too, I dare say.’
‘Let’s go a little deeper, shall we? What does she want for your kids?’ Natalie looked at him, steeled herself.
Liam shrugged. ‘To be high achievers. We argued on this. I want them to follow their dreams, she wants them to go to university. Doctors, lawyers, CEOs…Not what she said, but I know she’d feel like she
’d failed if they weren’t.’
‘And how about from you, when you were together, what did she want?’
‘A trophy. A smart ambitious man who would look good on her arm. But then she also needed a house-husband who would put her needs first.’
‘Love? Adoration? Respect?’
‘Respect.’ Liam answered automatically. ‘To prove to her father she’s better than her brother.’
Natalie nodded. Now she had all the pieces to make sense of Lauren’s narcissistic traits; under stress anything that wasn’t perfect would be cut off and denigrated.
She looked at him. This was the moment she had to step in and take the reins. This wasn’t just about her. Being torn between her and his children was ripping Liam in two, and aggravating Lauren. He looked haggard and lost, and she felt like she had done it to him. And she knew how much not having a father could mess you up.
So she wasn’t going to do that to her child—or Liam’s. For James, Megan and the bean—for the adolescent she once was, the person she wanted to be—the mother she wanted to be, she would do this, no matter how much pain it caused her.
‘You’re meeting with her, right?’
Liam nodded.
‘Nothing will work if revenge is all she’s after, but here’s a suggestion.’ They had to, surely, be better at putting their children first than Jenna and Malik? ‘Rule One: don’t be cocky. That will remind her of the revenge motive. Think dignified.’
Liam frowned, but he was taking onboard what she was saying. He knew the importance of the performance. In court, he was the master. But he was too close to this matter to brief himself.
‘You basically want to show yourself as the perfect father and perfect ex-husband, the intellectual equal who will be accommodating’—she saw him starting to shake his head and raised her hand—‘insofar as it involves the children.’
Liam looked sceptical.
‘Rule Two, go out of your way to show respect for her job. I know grovelling isn’t your thing’—Natalie grinned at his expression—‘but this is the time. You know, those serious respectful looks you flash at the jury after you’ve delivered a statement that expects them to disregard everything the defence has told them?’
Liam had the grace to smile.
‘And Rule Three?’ Natalie paused. She couldn’t look at him, was afraid she might tear up. ‘Find a way of telling her she’s right.’
‘Right about what?’
‘Whatever you like. She knows you pride yourself on being totally ethical; doesn’t mean you don’t get it wrong sometimes. You need to be sincere—I mean she really, really needs to believe you, but on this, she will want to. Narcissists hate to be criticised and seen to be wrong—they get defensive quickly and then you’ve lost the argument. Smart people get around them by getting them onside.’
Liam stared at her. If it was for her insight into Lauren, or her take on him, she wasn’t sure.
‘I suggest you say it about me,’ Natalie said, her voice hard. ‘Tell her she was right about me. That I’ve fucked your life up.’
Liam frowned.
‘This isn’t going to work Liam, you and me. I can’t do this. You said you couldn’t look at yourself in the mirror if you weren’t true to yourself? Well as it happens—’ Her voice started to crack. She stopped and hardened her expression against the vulnerability she saw in Liam’s, the flash of pain as he saw what she intended. ‘Neither can I. This is too hard. I thought we could get through it but we can’t. Go back to your children, Liam.’
‘Fuck that, Natalie. That isn’t your choice to make. Lauren and I aren’t ever getting back together. They’re my children, my decision. You know I love you. And I know you love me. Stop thinking you can be fucking noble or something.’
Maybe he hadn’t decided it was over, but he’d see the sense in it.
‘I’m not being noble,’ she said. She certainly didn’t feel it, she just felt wretched and empty, the loneliness that would engulf her the moment he walked out the door punching her in the stomach. ‘I want my child to have a father. The biological one I never got to have. A simple life like the one my mother chose. A life that won’t stress me and will keep me well.’
Liam looked like she’d slapped him. ‘McBride? He… you…you’re saying you don’t love me?’
Natalie closed her eyes. Thought of his children. Thought of the bean. Thought of how much she did love him, how much he was the only man she could ever see herself with. Thought about Jenna and Chelsea and Malik. And couldn’t lie. Or at least not about that. ‘You chose your children, Liam. I’m choosing mine.’
Liam stared at her. Without saying a word, he walked out. Bob helpfully added, ‘Let him go!’
52
Natalie’s mobile went as soon as the door slammed. A private number.
‘Is this Doctor King?’ A man’s voice she didn’t recognise. A slight accent.
‘Yes.’
‘This is Youssef Essa. You left a message.’
‘For your brother—Malik. I’m trying to get in touch with him. Have you seen him?’ And by the way, are you planning on doing a runner with your niece and nephew?
‘He was at my mother’s,’ said Youssef.
‘I rang there and no one answered.’
‘That is because they were at the school.’ Youssef sounded agitated.
‘Did something happen?’
‘Yes,’ said Youssef. ‘My brother wanted me to tell you thank you and that he will take care of Chelsea.’
Natalie’s stomach dropped. ‘What happened, Youssef?’
‘I do not know what happened. But my mother called Malik and he went to the school. He was upset.’
Natalie had her bike halfway out the door when she saw Liam had left his Lotus parked there. He must have been planning to see her after his mediation session. She pushed the bike back and found the spare keys. She could get to the school and still make it in time to the College. Four-thirty. Would anyone still be there?
As it happened, yes. Ama, Gaylene, Ted Beahre and a man in his fifties that Natalie didn’t know—along with two police officers. Chris was a little distance off in the playground, watching them all. Natalie recognised the gaunt Senior Constable Hudson from when he had chased after her stalker a year or so earlier, and the red-haired PC from the encounter with Luke.
‘What happened?’
Gaylene looked to the man Natalie didn’t know. Ted Beahre just glared and mumbled something about not being responsible. Natalie looked at him sharply.
Tony Hudson frowned at Natalie. ‘What’s your interest in this?’ His South African accent made him sound like he had a cold.
‘I’m Chelsea’s psychiatrist,’ said Natalie, turning her attention away from Ted Beahre. ‘How is she? Where is she?’
‘This we do not know,’ said Ama. She looked unsure whether to be angry or frightened. ‘I came to get her and they say she has gone.’
‘Aftercare signed her out,’ the unidentified man said. ‘We hadn’t been advised that her mother was no longer authorised.’
Jenna. At least that meant Chelsea wasn’t going to be smuggled away to the Middle East. But she would be with Luke.
‘I always said Mr Essa was fine,’ said Ted with an I told you so look. Mainly to Natalie, whom he had edged closer to. ‘A wrongly accused father, plus a protective mother and with due respect, experts who don’t have the full picture. A pretty lethal cocktail.’
Lethal cocktail? Natalie remembered the tweet that used the very same words. Now she had no doubt—Ted Beahre was @ManUnderFire.
‘This isn’t about you,’ Natalie said, shaking her head. ‘And you should see someone professional rather than bleat your animosity all over Twitter.’
Ted Beahre looked like he had been struck. And then as if he might cry.
‘Have you tried her house?’ Natalie asked no one in particular. She looked at her watch. Shit, could she make it to the College in fifteen minutes?
SC Hudson looked
irritated. ‘We have a constable there now—no sign of anyone. It’s Doctor King, isn’t it?’
Natalie nodded.
‘I don’t suppose you know the full name of Ms Radford’s boyfriend?’
‘No,’ said Natalie pulling out her phone. ‘First name Luke. This is a photo of him.’ It wasn’t great quality, but Hudson had her send it to him anyway.
‘I suggest you take the little fella home,’ Hudson said to Ama. ‘We have your details. We’ll call as soon as we know something.’
Ama nodded and called to Chris, who joined her as she headed towards the gate. Natalie ran after her. ‘Where’s Malik?’ she asked.
‘Where do you think?’ Ama stopped abruptly and turned to Natalie. ‘The system here, it is a joke. In my country, children are protected by the law, by their families.’
Natalie didn’t bother arguing that Jenna was family. ‘So what is Malik doing?’
Ama’s eyes narrowed. ‘He is being a man. A father.’
Ama took Chris’s hand and left Natalie watching—and wondering. Could Malik know where Luke lived? She thought about how he had followed Jenna, watched her at work. Had he done more than that? Vandalised Luke’s car?
Natalie looked at her watch. She could easily work out Luke’s name—and maybe where he lived. 4.59 p.m. What chance Beverley was still at work? Natalie rang her mobile.
‘Are you still in the rooms?’
‘Just left,’ said Beverley.
‘Can I get you to do me a favour?’ In peak hour it would take Natalie an hour to get to the office. ‘Look in Jenna Radford’s file for her workplace—it’s a pathology lab, I just need to know the name.’
There was a long pause. ‘Both songs?’
‘Both songs.’
‘Diagnostic Laboratory Services in Richmond,’ Beverley told her cheerfully two minutes later.
‘Bev, another favour. Can you ring the College and my medical indemnity insurers and tell them…’ Tell them what? That she was on a mission to stop children being abused, whisked off to Egypt, and generally save the world? Yeah, that’d go down well. ‘Tell them I’m dealing with a psychiatric emergency.’ And that she had to put her patient first. Even if it meant they told her she wasn’t ever going to be able to see patients again. Even if she had to go through a full psychiatric examination and court hearing to be reinstated. She had to help Chelsea. And, just maybe, Jenna and Malik too. She had always known that this case was going to be about choices. She just didn’t know that in the end it might cause her to lose everything except her integrity.