Times of Trouble

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Times of Trouble Page 30

by Victoria Rollison


  The larger man acted first, slamming the throttle down so that the boat lurched away from the pier. The smaller man lost his footing, his arms flailing, but failing to find something to hold onto. He flew backwards, slamming onto his side, and sliding towards the back of the boat. We all stared as the cruiser zig zagged towards the entrance of the marina. The larger man must still have been blinded by the light, as he seemed to be heading straight for the police launch. I thought they were going to collide, but the water police swerved out of the way just in time. The large man swerved too, in the opposite direction. Then as his boat careered forward, a huge crunching sound filled the air. The boat had hit the rocks on the point of the marina, just where it met the sea. At the moment of impact, a ball of fire exploded from the back deck, and within seconds the whole boat was engulfed in flames.

  I ran towards the jetty, desperately searching for a sign of Sophie. Andy was by my side in seconds, holding my shoulders as if scared I was about to jump into the water myself. The boat had left white foam washing against the jetty, and the water was so dark it seemed to have swallowed Sophie beneath the blackness. Every part of my body was frozen, my unblinking eyes staring into the water. Never before had I wanted something to appear like I did now.

  Andy suddenly cried out: ‘There!’

  He was pointing to the water but there was nothing ... what had he seen? And then I saw it too... it was her white head bobbing in the foam. She was doggy paddling towards the jetty. She was ok!

  Chapter 36

  ‘There’s something I need to talk to you guys about. Probably best to do it before Andy gets here,’ Sophie said, looking uncharacteristically serious. Mum and I sat down at the table.

  Sophie had spent the first week she was home telling both of us how sorry she had been to put us through all the stress and worry. How sorry she was about the money. How sorry she was that I had been attacked. And how sorry she was that she had disappeared from our lives. Mum had managed to be gracious in her acceptance of the apologies, exclaiming that everything was ok now she was home with us. But, as much as I would have liked to do the same thing, I couldn't totally forgive what Sophie had done. As she started talking, she looked down at Charlie in her lap, avoiding eye contact with me and mum.

  ‘So, I got a letter from a lawyer yesterday. It came here. It’s to do with Danny’s estate.’ She had barely mentioned Danny since we had been reunited. ‘When they opened a safe deposit box listed in his assets, they found he had quite a bit of jewellery in there. Some of it was in my name…’

  Mum put her arm around Sophie’s shoulder, quietly comforting her.

  ‘That’s lovely, dear. He must have really cared for you…’

  Sophie looked cynical, and said, ‘I think it was for tax purposes. But for whatever reason, it seems it now belongs to me. The box also had my original passport. That’s how they found out I lived here. Danny must have been converting his cash into assets. Not that he ever really told me much about anything like that.’

  ‘So where is this jewellery now?’ I asked.

  ‘I’m going to get the lawyers to sell it on my behalf. The various bits have been valued at around $120,000. That’s enough to pay off the mortgage. And pay back Allen.’

  Mum and I looked at each, trying to decide if the mood was right for celebration, or if Sophie just wanted us to play it low key. We chose the latter.

  ‘Thank you Sophie,’ mum said. ‘That is a weight off my mind.’

  ‘Oh, and I forgot’ Sophie added. ‘There will be enough left to buy you a new piano, Ellen.’

  She squeezed Charlie tight, comforting herself as much as comforting him. The tears she had tried to stop from coming finally started flowing down her cheeks. Mum got up from her chair and hugged Sophie, her arms wrapping around Charlie as well. I sat smiling at Sophie, selfishly dreaming of a new piano. I was also glad to hear Sophie would be getting back in contact with Allen. He seemed so lovely, but when I asked her about him a couple of weeks ago she said she didn’t know if she would ever see him again. We sat quietly for a while, until there was a knock at the door.

  Andy had a huge grin on his face as he came in. He awkwardly put his arm round my shoulders, saying: ‘Ellen! It’s great to see you.’ Mum appeared behind me, and when he spotted her, his grin widened and he said: ‘Hi ya Sandy!’

  As he moved away from the front door, I saw two men standing on the veranda, staring into the house. Before I had time to be scared or wonder why they might be there, Andy turned to them and said, ‘Go and get it off the truck. I’ll show you where to put it.’ Go get what from a truck? I turned to mum as if to ask what they were talking about, but the look on her face showed she had no idea either. I stepped onto the veranda and saw the huge truck in the driveway. It had a piano painted on the side. Andy stood nervously next to me.

  ‘I hope you like it. The man at the shop said it was a good one.’ The awkwardness between us disappeared as I wrapped him in a huge hug.

  ‘It’s to make up for all the missed birthdays...and...you know...to show you how impressed I am with your stunt at the marina,’ he said as I finally let him go, and rushed onto the lawn to see my new piano. It was beautiful, just like Picasso.

  As the men brought the piano inside, Mum showed Andy into the living room, where we were joined by Sophie and Charlie. Andy fussed over Charlie for a few minutes as I made sure the piano was put exactly where I liked it. It looked so brand new and shiny, it was almost too perfect to play.

  After the men left, Sophie waited until Mum and Andy were in conversation so they couldn’t over hear, and said: ‘I’d really hoped to be able to replace your piano, I know you sold it to save this house. I never meant for all that money to be spent on me...’

  ‘It’s ok. I know you would have done the same thing for me.’

  ‘I would have, I promise. And I’m not going to let you down again...’ Her eyes welled with tears once more, as she looked at the new piano.

  ‘It’s ok. It was just a piano. Not like having you back with us…’

  Mum interrupted our conversation by proclaiming: ‘Ellen, you must play something for us... I’ve missed hearing you so much.’

  ‘What should I play?’ I asked, mentally flicking through the hundreds of books I hadn’t touched in weeks.

  It was Sophie who responded quickest. ‘Can you play Chopin’s Nocturne, Opus 9 No 2? That was always my favourite.’ Mum and I stared at her, open mouthed, surprised she remembered the details of any piece I used to play.

  ‘What?’ she asked, looking bemused. ‘I put it on my I-pod. I’d play it whenever I felt homesick. Never as good as hearing it for real though.’

  ‘What’s an I-pod?’ mum asked, as I found the piece and started to play.

  I was excited to have my own piano again, and also proud to show it off. Not wanting the concert to be over too quickly, I quickly started another piece. It was one I chose especially for Sophie: The Beatles ‘Let it Be’. As I finished, I heard Sophie bounce Charlie on her lap, and say to him: ‘Isn’t your Aunty a star! She might teach you to play one day if you’re lucky’.

  Had I heard that comment two months ago, I would have been deeply offended. Both because I wasn’t a star, and didn’t feel like one, and also because I didn’t feel any pride in teaching. But something had changed since my time in Sydney, and the realisation filled me with a joyful relief. It was the first time I had played in as long as I could remember when I wasn’t critical about my performance. I wasn’t practising to get better. I wasn’t imagining myself in front of judges at a competition. I was just playing and enjoying it. And Sophie’s comment wasn’t aimed at hurting my feelings; she truly was proud of me.

  ‘This has convinced me,’ I said. ‘I’m not going to give up playing – in public, I mean.’ I could never give up playing, but performing was another matter. ‘I’m going to accept the offer I’ve had from a violinist and a cellist I knew when we were students to join them in a piano trio. There’s heaps of
beautiful music for piano trio, and if we’re good enough, who knows?’ It wouldn’t be a career, but it would be fun. Beaming, I sat down next to Andy on the sofa.

  He turned to Sophie and asked: ‘So how have you been Sophie?’

  ‘We’ve settled right in, haven’t we Charlie,’ she said. She put Charlie on his rug on the floor, and smiled at Andy. You had to know her well to see the grimace behind the smile. She wasn’t close enough to Andy to explain how hard things had been for her since she got back.

  ‘So do you see much of our dad?’ she asked. I was taken aback by her sudden frankness. I had forgotten how openly she could talk about him. Mum looked away, as if afraid of the answer Andy might give. His stammer gave away how he felt about the question:

  ‘Ah... no... not really. I haven’t spoken to him in years. He moved up to Darwin about five years ago...’

  Ok, that was all I could take. I interrupted for mum’s and my sake. ‘So did you have a good flight?’

  He sat back, much more at ease with my question. ‘Yeah, yeah, it was fine.’

  ‘And can I get you a cup of tea?’ Mum asked, falling back to the comfortable role of hostess to smooth the tension in the air.

  The conversation started to flow more freely as we sat and ate morning tea. Even when obviously unhappy, Sophie was still able to be sociable and chatty. She seemed content to avoid any mention of her life in London, preferring to laugh about things we got up to as children.

  When she paused to play with Charlie, Andy turned to me and said: ‘I spoke to Detective Williamson yesterday. He said there’s no real rush to call him, but that he still had a few questions for you.’

  I nodded, aware I still had more of that to deal with. Over the last couple of weeks, I had slowly retold the whole story of my time in Sydney to the detective. Andy had managed to keep the use of the government software at his flat a secret. He had talked to someone he knew high up in one of the national security organisations, and he had had a word with Detective Williams’s boss. Need to know basis, and all that. I had been relieved to hear Andy hadn’t got in trouble over it.

  ‘How are you going Sophie? With the detectives in London?’ he asked. Sophie shrugged. She had not shown any stress over her dealings with them. She had been far more upset talking about her lost friend Katie than the prospect of facing fraud charges. However it seemed unlikely that she would be charged with anything.

  ‘The detective over there, Wolcott, he’s pretty cool. He’s willing to agree that I was caught up with Danny’s plans, but that I didn’t do anything illegal. There’s no actual evidence against me. The MP is still putting a bit of pressure on, but I don’t think it’s going to be a problem. I’m going to have to go over there at some stage, but I was planning to go back anyway, because I have to sort out the adoption.’

  ‘So you are adopting Charlie?’ Andy asked.

  ‘I’m looking into getting custody, fingers crossed. Not sure what I’m going to do work wise. Not acting, that’s for sure.’ There was an uncomfortable silence and no one disagreed with her.

  I admired Sophie for her candour. She spoke about the whole blackmail scandal with regret and honesty, freely admitting what a dumb idea it was, and how it was the beginning of all the misery that followed. The stupid thing about the whole business was that she and the others didn’t even have the information that Holland and his uncle thought they did. After some long and confusing conversations with her about it, it became clear to me that she and Danny knew nothing about the snuff movies. She and Katie had met Bill through being in one of his porn movies. Sophie only shot a few scenes because she hated it so much. When Danny had threatened Bill that he would tell all he knew, Bill assumed that Danny had found out they were killing people at the end of some scenes. But Danny had only actually meant to threaten him about using under-age girls in the films. Danny had no idea that Bill’s uncle was a gangster who killed anyone who got in his way. It had been a deadly misunderstanding.

  I had been so relieved to find out Sophie hadn’t known people were being killed. If she had known, how could she not have gone to the police? Using underage girls was pretty bad, but nothing like murder. It was hard to imagine how it had been for Sophie, to watch her friends being killed and to expect that the same thing would happen to her. But she always had been a strong person, and having Charlie to look after seemed to just make her stronger. Watching the way she was coping with what had happened was having an impact on my life as well, making me realise that all the moping around I had been doing was just wasting time. There were worse things in life than giving up a dream career.

  ‘Well, it seems like you guys are really getting things sorted,’ Andy said awkwardly. ‘How is the case going against the movie ring? Have any charges been laid yet?’

  I seemed to be the likely one to respond, since I knew more about the people chasing Sophie than she had herself.

  ‘The London police finally tracked down Bill Holland in hospital. He had been trying to take over his uncle’s drug business in London, and one of the competition shot him. But not dead, unfortunately.’

  Andy smirked. ‘Couldn’t happen to a nicer bloke.’

  ‘Yeah, there’s enough evidence of his involvement with the movies that he will be charged with murder. He’s also implicated a few other people who were involved. It’s a relief to hear he’s not out there anymore.’

  ‘It is,’ Andy agreed. ‘What happened to the girlfriend - Melissa?’

  ‘I asked that myself. I didn’t like the idea of her getting off completely scot-free. She must have been a bit complicit in what went on. But apparently she’s agreed to testify against quite a few of their associates, and she probably won’t spend any time in jail. Saving Charlie counts in her favour.’

  ‘I would have thought so. Is there any more information about what happened to Veronica, that girl that was missing?’

  Sophie and mum looked at me, obviously wanting me to tell Andy the bad news.

  ‘Yeah, they found out what happened to her. She was used in one of the movies. She was one of the under-age girls Sophie met…turns out she was only 14.’

  ‘Oh, I’m sorry to hear that.’ Andy looked genuinely sad at the news.

  We all sat contemplating how close I had been to sharing the same fate as Veronica, when mum broke the silence, asking Andy a question that I wasn’t expecting.

  ‘You said you were going to visit Liam. How is he?’

  What? No one had told me that Andy was going to see Liam. I tried to keep the look of disgust from my face. Mum had been mortified to find out what Liam had done to Sophie, but she spoke of him with sympathy now. He had given Sophie his phone, but I still didn’t feel he had redeemed himself. I wouldn’t say he deserved what happened to him, but I also didn’t feel any sympathy for him whatsoever.

  ‘Yeah, I dropped past the hospital. When I explained who I was he looked pretty alarmed, and rightly so. He’s doing ok. The burns are healing, but he’s still going to be there for a while longer.’ Andy took a piece of paper out of his pocket and handed it to me. ‘He asked me to wait while he wrote something for you, Ellen. I brought it with me.’

  I opened it, and skim read it, aware that everyone was staring at me. His writing was messy, but I could make out what it said:

  ‘Dear Ellen. I can’t imagine how you feel about me, you must think I’m the devil. But I just wanted to try to explain. I am sorrier than you will ever know for agreeing to hand Sophie over to those people. I regretted it as soon as I got to their house. I know I can never justify why I did it. And you probably think I deserve to be in the state I am in now. I wasn’t thinking of Sophie and your family when I chose to do what I did. I wanted the money to help with Abi’s appeal. I assume you know about my relationship with her. She is rotting away in prison and I want to help her get out. They threatened her to. I couldn’t let anything worse happen to her because of me. I know it is selfish to only think of her and myself, but that’s the only justification I can
try to give. I’m sorry I sent that email pretending to be Sophie. I just wanted to warn you off so you wouldn’t get too involved. Please pass my apologies on to Sophie and your mum. I will never forget the pain I put you all through and you can’t imagine the relief I felt when I found out Sophie was safe. You sure saved the day. Liam’

  I passed it to mum, who read it with a look of sadness on her face, and then passed it to Sophie.

  She scoffed at it and said, ‘I don’t want to see anything that little prick wrote. He can go to hell!’

  Wasn’t that a bit rich coming from her? Mum folded the letter, and put it in her pocket. She would file it away somewhere safe, for Sophie to read when she was ready.

  I’d already had many discussions with Detective Williamson about what would happen to Liam. Without him admitting that he had agreed to sell Sophie to people who were going to kill her, there wasn’t really the evidence for a case against him. Since he had changed his mind, and tried to help us, I was having trouble deciding what I wanted to happen to him. I would never forget how betrayed I felt when I found out what he had done. But he’d been the one that found Sophie in the first place, not me. His note made my dilemma worse. I knew at once that I would have done anything to save Sophie, and I had to think about that when I thought about Liam and Abi. I would have felt much differently about Liam if we hadn’t managed to get Sophie back safely. I knew Liam had done the wrong thing, and I hated him for it, but I wasn’t exactly helping the detective to build a case against him. Liam’s note could be used as evidence of what he did, but would I use it? Or would I pretend I never got it? Could I forgive Sophie but not Liam? It didn't help that I still felt stupid for letting Liam con me into believing in him. I hated to think of the clues I missed in his erratic behaviour. But would I be less naive in the future?

 

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