‘Good.’
‘What did you do all day?’
‘We had hot chocolate at Swiss Chalet, and looked at clothes and makeup in the shopping centre. Then I read a magazine while Alex did her homework. Now we’re watching a movie.’
‘You sound a little down, darling. Is everything alright?’
‘Yes,’ Maddi said, picturing her mother and father breaking down the front door and charging in to rescue her. Realising that she really was having a good time as long as Greg stayed in his den.
‘Well, I won’t keep you, darling. Have you had dinner?’
‘Yes,’ Maddi said, rolling her eyes at Alex.
‘What did you have?’
‘Mum! Do I have to give you every detail of everything I’ve done?’
‘No, Madeline. But I am interested in making certain you are OK.’
‘I’m fine, Mum,’ Maddi said, rolling her eyes again, this time at no one in particular. ‘Oh, and by the way, just like I said would happen, they arrested Alex’s attacker today. He’s in jail. Noah Tamblyn rang and told Alex and her mum all about it.’
Jayne gasped on the other end of the line. ‘Nooo . . . Who was it, Maddi?’
‘Noah said I’m not allowed to tell. But it’ll be on the news.’
‘But you can tell me, darling, surely.’
‘I can’t, Mum. You don’t know him anyway. Just watch the news . . . I have to go,’ Maddi said.
‘Very well. Your dad and I are going out for dinner. Wish you were with us. Miss you,’ Jayne said, blowing a kiss.
‘OK, Mum. I’m going now. I’ll see you tomorrow,’ Maddi said, pausing when she caught sight of Alex waving her arms wildly in the air.
‘Ask if you can come home late,’ Alex mouthed.
‘Um, is it OK if you pick me up just before dinner tomorrow? Maddi said.
‘Of course, darling. One of us will collect you once we close our opens.’
Fish and chips, and a sizeable stash of chocolate bars, crisps, cola, and ice cream, left Maddi bloated, nauseous and ready for sleep only minutes into the second movie. ‘This one isn’t very good,’ she said to Alex.
‘No, it’s crap. Shall we skip it and watch the next one?’ Alex muttered.
‘Are you tired?’ Maddi said.
‘A bit. But I’m not going to bed. It’s only just gone midnight.’
‘I’m really tired,’ Maddi moaned.
Alex pointed the remote and stopped the film. ‘OK. I guess we can get up early and watch the rest in the morning.’
‘Alex?’ Maddi said later as they lay under their doonas.
‘Yeah,’ Alex droned softly.
‘Do you mind that Greg gets so angry?’ Maddi glanced in the darkness towards the bedroom door to the thin strip of light glowing beneath, assuring her it was closed.
‘Not really. He does good stuff as well,’ Alex said.
‘Like what?’
There was a beat of silence. ‘He pays all the bills. Mum and I could never afford to live here otherwise. And sometimes he helps me with my homework. He drives me places. And most of the time he is really kind. He only gets angry when he’s stressed from work.’
Later, when she looked back on that conversation, Maddi recalled it had been on her mind then to ask Alex how she tolerated Greg’s sudden outbursts, his moods. But she must have fallen to sleep because she was eventually woken by muffled sounds floating from the lounge room. She glanced over at Alex’s empty moonlit bed, resolving that she must have decided to watch the movie after all, and wandering in bare feet towards the lounge room to watch it with her.
The sounds grew louder – still muffled, still indiscernible, but louder. Maddi reached the open doorway of the lounge room, realising what she could hear was not a movie soundtrack. Her sights adjusting to the dim light, one hand against the doorframe, it hit her like a wrecking ball that she was caught up in a hideous reality. This was not a grotesque nightmare, not vivid imagination. She forced herself to watch. And had to force herself to believe what she saw.
Alex lay prostrate on the beige carpet. Greg kneeled above her, his face moving between her splayed legs. His old man’s arse stuck up in the air. Poised to jump to Alex’s defence, Maddi held back. Watched for signs of her friend’s fear and horror. And saw only pleasure. Maddi grasped the doorframe tighter, and then without a word, turned from the room, the contents of her stomach fighting for release. As lightly as she could manage, she tip-toed along the passage, past the open door of Greg and Cynthia’s empty bedroom.
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
Laura’s eyes were forced open by sunshine oozing through the narrow gaps either side of the bedroom blind. Staring up at the white weatherboard ceiling, the immobile raffia arms of the fan, she listened with a sleepy smile to children’s voices floating up from the beach and tried to convince herself that visiting Simon was a fine way to spend her day off. Callie jumped onto the bed then, with the look of someone who’d been waiting hours for this moment, and stared at her with soulful eyes. ‘I guess it’s a walk you’re after,’ Laura said, her voice still husky from sleep.
Flynn’s house stood empty, blinds drawn, seemingly deserted until Gorgeous screamed ‘Hello’, at once shattering the solitude and needlessly reminding Laura of her presence. And minutes later, Callie watched dutifully as, risking life and limb, Laura stepped into the aviary to fill the birdbath, leaving Gorgeous to whistle and wallow in the fresh pool of cool water.
An hour later Laura sipped tea and ate bacon and eggs under the shade of an umbrella at the Beachfront Cafe, with Callie curled at her feet and children still pale from winter gambolling and splashing in the shallows. Colourful kayaks moved along the water with surprising speed, reminding her that even though everything had changed, in reality nothing had. If she was to see the world through rose-coloured glasses or dreary grey, the choice was hers. In that moment she decided she would visit Simon in hospital after all. Not because she didn’t want to disappoint him, or the nurses or doctors, but because she didn’t want to disappoint herself.
Muffled voices of sports commentators floated from the television. Simon lay on a stack of pillows, eyes closed, a pall of melancholy filling the small space – along with the lingering fragrance of female perfume.
‘Hello,’ she said, prompting his eyes to flutter open.
She lowered herself onto the chair at the end of his bed. ‘How are you feeling?’
His face took on the ‘little boy lost’ expression she had come to despise, the expression that must have existed all along, but which she had never noticed before. ‘A bit headachy,’ he said. ‘But the nurses are managing that with painkillers. You?’ he added without smiling.
‘I’m good. It’s a glorious day out there, and Callie and I walked to the Beachfront Cafe for breakfast this morning.’
‘Really? His brows arched. ‘And why would Callie be going anywhere with you?’
‘Flynn’s father died suddenly. He had to fly west at a moment’s notice to attend the funeral.’
‘Wasn’t there anyone else to look after his dog? Why you? How close have you two become, for Chrissakes?’
Laura studied his expression – an odd combination of suppressed rage and forced humility. ‘It’s none of your business, Simon,’ she said.
Uncharacteristically chastened, Simon lay back on his pillows, slowly closed his eyes.
‘Do the doctors have any idea about when you will be leaving hospital?’ she asked, suddenly spotting the kiss signs under Patrice’s name on his plaster cast, now scattered with all manner of femininely colourful signatures and symbols.
He turned his head to the side as though speaking to the wall. ‘The nurses think I’ll be going to a residential rehab centre for a while before I go home. Cowlett seems less definite.’ He faced her then, studied her in a lapse of silence. ‘My memory is gradually coming back,’ he said.
‘That is interesting,’ she said, certain i
t made little difference to her.
‘I remember now . . . taking that woman out to breakfast, I mean. The photograph Tara showed me triggered something in my head.’ His eyes bore into hers.
Which head? Your big one or your little one? she thought, meeting his gaze with silence.
‘You have to believe me when I say it meant nothing,’ he continued.
‘I do not have to believe anything, Simon. And as a matter of fact, I don’t. You did it far too many times for it to have meant nothing.’
‘I mean, it meant nothing emotionally,’ he murmured, looking down at his outline under the white cotton blanket like a chastened child.
‘It’s all done and dusted, Simon. Finito. There can be no going back for us. I’m here as a friend – nothing more.’
‘Ah, right, I get it now,’ he said, lifting his chin and rolling his eyes. ‘You and Flynn have finally done the wild thing, haven’t you? Be honest,’ he sneered.
‘You disgust me. There is absolutely nothing happening between Flynn and me other than friendship. I have been completely faithful to you for the entire time we’ve known each other.’
‘It’s very easy to be faithful when you have no sex drive,’ he said through tight lips.
Her flush was like being smothered with hot lava. ‘What are you talking about?’
‘My short term memory may be lacking, Laura, but I remember with vivid clarity how your libido seemed to slip into further decline with every passing year we spent together.’
She glanced down at her hands in her lap, privately admitting that there was an element of truth in what he was saying. Menopause had played havoc with her libido, turned it latent. But after Simon had left, during her times alone with nothing to rely on but her imagination and the device she had purchased in secret, she discovered with a mixture of guilt and elation that, with the right stimulation, her libido was capable of flourishing to the point of rabidity.
‘Sex is a mutual responsibility, Simon. Perhaps you lost your mojo,’ she said.
‘You stopped being sexy, Laura – that’s what killed my mojo.’
‘What’s sexy, Simon? Crutchless knickers, massage oils, porn movies? If that’s what you see as sexy, then yes, I did grow out of sexy.’
He lay back on the pillow. ‘You let yourself go, Laura. Face it. You concentrated on being a cop and a grandmother. Forgot how to be an interesting, fun, sexy woman. And the result was that I became nothing more to you than the bloke who compensated for the mess he made as a guest in his own house, by being bloody handy behind a hammer and a lawnmower.’
Stunned into silence, Laura’s eyes dropped down to her denim thighs, one crossed over the other. Had she really let herself go by not spending as much time in front of the mirror as she once had? Had she really let Simon down as his partner?
She lifted her head to meet his steely gaze. ‘If that’s how you see me, Simon, then it just confirms there is no future for us together.’
‘You shouldn’t bother visiting at all if it’s just to antagonise me,’ he said, his eyes shifting back to the television, his hurt little boy expression returning with a vengeance.
‘I visit because you need my support,’ she said. ‘Just say you don’t – and really mean it – and I’ll stop visiting in an instant,’ she added.
With Simon’s chastisement echoing in her mind, Laura smiled and stepped aside for a woman in a walking frame to enter the hospital. She’d always prided herself on her appearance, but had taken it for granted that he found her attractive in ways that were not purely physical. She had grown accustomed to the reality that her years of turning heads had passed, had assumed Simon’s tacit agreement and comfortable acceptance of that fact. Suddenly overwhelmed by the realisation that tentative considerations of selling the house and dividing their assets had become a reality, she crossed the asphalt of the crowded car park, weaved her way to her sedan, numbers and sums tossing and tumbling in her head, when her phone rang.
‘Hi, Tara,’ she answered, pointing the remote at her car.
‘It’s not Tara, it’s me,’ Seth’s voice chimed. I’ve got a dad now. I saw him today.’
Previous thoughts gone in a flash, tears stung behind Laura’s eyes at the joy so evident in Seth’s sweet voice.
‘Awesome,’ Laura said, scrambling through her bag for a tissue. ‘What’s he like?’
‘He’s really cool. He gave me a fishing rod.’
‘Really?’
‘Yeah. He’s going to teach me how to catch really big fish. And Mum too, but I don’t think she’ll be very good at it.’
‘That’s great, Seth. How amazing is that? You know your dad now.’
‘It’s pretty cool. It means I’ll have someone to bring with me when we have father and son camps in Year 4 . . . Um, OK . . . Mum wants to talk to you. Bye, Lol.’
‘Hey, Mum. It went really well,’ Tara said when she came to the phone. ‘Anthony and Seth look so good together.’ Laura heard Tara sniff, heard the deep swallow. ‘Anthony is coming for dinner during the week. Seth is so excited. I think he figures Anthony will be the bearer of gifts every time they see each other – which is probably close to the truth. I could hardly hold back my tears when we were sitting by the duck pond in the park, and Seth stopped eating his ice cream, looked at Anthony in all seriousness and said, ‘If you’re my dad, does that mean I’m your son?’ Tara sniffed again. ‘It’s profound, isn’t it, Mum?’ she said, clearing her voice.
‘Yes,’ Laura said.
‘Did you see Simon today?’
‘Ah huh.’
‘You have every right not to see him at all if that’s how you’re feeling.’
‘I can’t abandon him altogether, Tara – not now. But he seems to be accepting we are over, albeit with a bit of a fight.’
‘Is he being nasty?’ Tara said.
‘He’s just telling me what he really thinks – about me, about our marriage . . . But who cares?’ She laughed.
‘That’s great. I’ve always thought he had a bit too much influence over the way you saw yourself,’ Tara said.
‘Why didn’t you say something? You’re not usually reticent in giving me advice.’ She chuckled.
‘Because I know you and Simon had a partnership that worked for you both. Besides, it was none of my business. But I must admit, it is a pity he was not capable of being honest about what was bothering him when it happened years ago. Having said all that, I think you seem more grown up since Simon left.’
During her drive home, Laura pondered Tara’s call, her spirits soaring over Seth’s joy at finally having the chance to build a relationship with his father, over Tara having a loving and supportive partner to come home to every night. Images of the four of them – Tara and Anthony, she and Simon – taking Seth for outings intruded on her thoughts, and with a mild and momentary stab of regret she pushed them away. ‘It is what it is,’ she said over the voice of the newsreader on the radio, feeling a surge of joy at the announcement, the third or fourth for the day, of Martin alias Malone’s arrest and incarceration.
Crumbing flathead fillets to go with the tossed salad she’d prepared for dinner, Laura peered down at Callie’s pleading eyes when her phone rang with an unlisted number. She wiped her hands and removed the pan from the heat, and picked up her phone. ‘Laura Nesci,’ she said, her fingers tightly crossed in the hope that this would be a simple matter.
‘Laura, this is Jayne Sterling, Maddi’s mother. I’m sorry to call on Sunday but the voicemail in your office said to ring this number if it was an emergency – and it is. Laura, something awful has happened while Maddi was at Alex’s house. Andrew and I have no idea what we should do next.’
‘OK. Start at the beginning and tell me what has happened,’ Laura said, making her way to the lounge room, pulling the drapes closed and planting herself on the sofa.
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
Laura checked her speedometer and eased her foot
off the accelerator. Ignored her nausea, the pain as the rising glare of the sun drilled through her sunshades into her brain. Stared at her phone lying idly on the passenger seat, willing with a vengeance that Noah would return her call. She shook her head, still reeling from shock. Experience dictated there was often more than one abuser in the lives of the people she worked with, but experience did not make it any easier for her to process the information Jayne Sterling had passed on about Alex last night.
‘At last,’ she said, pulling over to the shoulder of the road when her phone rang.
‘I’m not sure I understood your message. What’s up?’ Noah said casually.
‘Maddi had a sleepover at Alex Holt’s house Saturday and witnessed Greg Shepherd sexually abusing Alex. I don’t know how she did it, but Maddi held the information to herself all day until her parents picked her up just before dinner.’
‘So no one else in the house knows what she saw?’
‘No. Maddi and her parents are the only people who know and they are still numb with the horror of it.’
‘What are you thinking?’ Noah rasped.
‘I’m worried about Alex being further abused by Greg, but I want to get the facts from Maddi before I interview her. Jayne Sterling is keeping Maddi home from school today, so I’m on my way to visit her now. I wanted to give you a heads-up. There’s probably not enough for you to become involved at this stage. Oh, and I’ve notified Child Welfare. I’m expecting them to call back.’
Thirty minutes later Laura pulled up at Maddi’s address – a long house of natural stone and glass expanse, complemented by luxuriously lush gardens. She picked her way through ferns and palms along a marble pathway to a wide front door. Orchestral chimes echoed throughout the house before Jayne Sterling opened the door, her expression a mixture of agitation and disbelief.
‘Come in, Laura,’ she muttered, stepping aside for Laura to enter a wide marble entrance crammed with more lush plantings and surrounded by glass, a pool visible through a full-length window.
‘Come into the kitchen. Andrew and Madeline are in there.’
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