by Toni Pike
Letitia screwed up her face. “You killed them?”
“Yes.”
“What happened after that?”
“Joshua helped me to bury them and looked after me. It was his idea to tell the police that my parents had run out of petrol and gone in search of help. The police in Quarry came to the conclusion that the stranger who came to the campsite had killed them. Jane and Kevin took me to the last day of the trial. I was afraid of being sent to jail if they knew the truth, so I yelled out that he was a murderer.”
“So he was convicted and you never said anything?”
“No, and my new life in Quarry was so wonderful, I didn’t want it to end.”
“All those years neither of you said anything.”
“No, but when he was released he moved to Queanbeyan and has been trying to contact me. That day in Quarry, we arranged to meet in the desert and he told me what he wanted.”
“So why have you kept this to yourself? Why did you deny his allegations in that interview?”
My excuse was feeble. “I was frightened,” I said.
Letitia slowly paced the floor with tears streaming down her face. A drum was beating inside my head. Finally, she looked at me but her mouth was set in a stern line. “I need some time to think,” she said.
“Please tell me you forgive me, darling.”
She dismissed my request with her raised hand as she turned her back on me and walked out of the room.
For the next hour I sat alone in the living room, feeling as if I was in the darkest corner of Hell. Then I walked upstairs and found her sitting on the end of our bed, staring into space.
“Are you all right, Letitia?” I asked.
She didn’t look at me. “I know you were only a child, but I can’t believe that you murdered two people.”
“Nor can I.”
“You’re not the man I thought I knew. But the worst thing is that you let Joshua Byrnes go to jail for a crime he didn’t commit. I can understand that happening when you were young, but to let it go on all these years? And then you announce to the world that his claims in that interview were a lie.”
This was even worse than I expected. “I’m so sorry,” I said.
She looked at me with revulsion as if she was seeing a hideous beast.
“There’s no way for me to stay with you at the moment. I need time to think. I’ll take Charlie and go back to our own townhouse.”
All I could do was beg. “Please don’t leave me, darling,” I said.
“I won’t say anything for the time being, but you need to sort your own life out and make some decisions. Please don’t try to contact me. I’ll pack a couple of bags now and take my own car. Would you please have the rest of our things sent over tomorrow?”
“Yes, of course, first thing in the morning.”
I hugged my little boy before they left, though he was fast asleep. Letitia looked on as if she was a statue. “You and Charlie are everything to me,” I said but she didn’t reply.
I helped them into the car. Charlie woke up and smiled at me, his face filled with innocent joy as Letitia adjusted the straps on his car seat. She didn’t look at me as she turned the key and drove off. Our townhouse was only three kilometres away, but it felt like they were moving to the other side of the world and I would never see them again.
It was nine o’clock at night and The Lodge seemed so quiet without her. I walked to my bedroom and saw the bed where we made love the previous night, her porcelain skin pressed against me and her tangle of auburn hair spread across the pillow. I couldn’t bear to walk towards the nursery and see the empty cot.
When the phone rang my mood lifted slightly to see that it was Ranjit. “Hello, boss, is everything okay?” he asked, detecting the gloomy note in my voice.
“Can you come over tonight?” I asked.
“Yes, I sure can. We should discuss the security meeting tomorrow.”
“There’s something else we need to talk about.”
***
A few minutes later, Ranjit looked surprised to see my despairing face when I greeted him at the door. “Thank you for coming, I’m in desperate need of a friend,” I said, leading him to the living room.
He plonked down on the sofa. “Not a problem, you better tell me all about it.”
“Letitia has moved out temporarily, back to our own house in Kingston.”
His jaw dropped when he heard my abbreviated version of events. “Oh, no, what happened?” he asked. “And why tonight, after you were nearly killed today? She seemed so upset before.”
I squeezed my hands into a tight fist, not willing to tell him the full murder and betrayal saga. “We had a disagreement. It’s tough being the wife of the Prime Minister, especially when you have a baby to care for. I don’t want to talk about our argument, it’s very private. Letitia said she wanted time to think things through.”
“You weren’t violent, were you?”
I stood up in shock at that suggestion. “No! No way,” I said.
“Good, just wanted to check. Well, in that case, I’m sure she’ll be back soon. She loves you.”
“Love is very close to hate, Ranjit. That’s the only thing I know for sure about love.”
“Don’t get depressed. We should keep your separation secret for now, don’t mention it to anyone except the security and household staff – we’ll think of something to tell them.”
“If you think that’s for the best.”
“It will take the press a while to realise she isn’t around. By then she’ll be back, trust me. Letitia will come to her senses.”
“I sure hope so,” I said. Ranjit always imparted a sense of control, a feeling that the world was not an endless interplay of random events. But he didn’t know that my life was being swamped by a tsunami. He stayed for a while, discussed the security meeting then chatted about his girlfriend, Katie. Finally he had to leave because she was preparing a late night supper for him.
I worked at my desk until midnight, trying to forget everything else for an hour or two. There was a framed photograph of Kevin and Jane in pride of place, and their voices whispered to me as if they were still alive. “We love you, Tyler, you’re such a wonderful boy.”
Tears moistened my eyes. “I wanted to make you proud of me, but you would be so ashamed,” I said aloud.
It was poor form for a Prime Minister to show any signs of personal weakness or appear to be drowning in self-pity. Ranjit reinforced that message a dozen times the next day. “It’s our secret, no one else needs to know,” he said. “Keep smiling and act as if everything’s normal.” He had a talent for spinning everything to our advantage and giving hope where there was very little room for optimism.
My elegant suit hid the cuts and abrasions on my body and my relentless charm convinced the world that everything was under control. At least my gravel rash was healing, but my internal misery was growing like a mushroom cloud.
We drove to Cooma, one hour south of Canberra, to open a new hospital wing for mothers and babies. Letitia was meant to be by my side, but instead Ranjit was in the back seat with me. “You know what to say,” he said me in a futile effort to make me feel better.
I fabricated an excuse that earned me some sympathy votes at Cooma Hospital. After pulling aside the curtain over the brass plaque at the entrance, I declared that the new wing was ready for business. The hospital staff looked on with smiling faces as I recited my speech. “Today, I’m afraid that our little Charlie has a bad cold and so Letitia can’t be here,” I said. “She sends her apologies. That’s just one small example of how unpredictable life can be when you have a small child, and why we need centres like this one.”
There was a little round of applause.
Afternoon tea was set up in the emergency waiting room, which gave me a chance to meet as many staff members as possible. The nurse manager, Betty Greenwood, chatted to me while balancing a cup of tea and a cookie. “I hope your son feels better soon,” she said. �
�Some steam in his bedroom overnight can work wonders.”
“Thanks, I’ll try that tonight,” I replied. “I’m sure he’ll be fine, just a mild fever.”
It took determination and dedication to weave a tissue of lies that could sustain itself with the strength and flexibility of a spider’s web, able to trap any victim it encountered. I’d been an expert for more than twenty-five years.
That night, there was a dinner at The Lodge for the most senior military leaders and their partners, and the same excuse for Letitia’s absence came in very handy. I wove an elaborate tapestry, a tale about Letitia taking Charlie to the doctor, and then moved on to more relevant topics such as the need to retain military personnel and problems with traumatic stress after combat postings.
In bed that night, I felt more alone and afraid than in my childhood. I turned on the television and my visit to Cooma Hospital was on the local news. I wondered if perhaps Letitia was watching the same channel and there might be tears in her eyes when she saw me. She might come back to me when she remembered that we loved each other and realised that Charlie needed us both.
I waited two weeks then sent her an email. Please Letitia, could I speak to you? I miss you and Charlie so much. We should have a talk.
I checked my inbox a hundred times a day but there was no answer. Two days later I sent a text message using the same words. She never replied, despite my obsessive phone checking all day. Letitia was shunning me and that was the perfect punishment for my crimes.
I somehow survived for seventeen days following her departure. The clock in the hallway chimed at eighty-thirty that night and snapped me out of a trance. Her silence was driving me crazy and I wondered if I should walk over to the townhouse and knock on the door. She might agree to speak when she saw me, or even burst into tears and fall into my arms.
A ray of hope sparked to life in my brain, and I couldn’t wait a second longer.
***
When you’re the Prime Minister it isn’t easy to sneak out of The Lodge without being followed by your security detail. But when you’re as devious as me it’s not impossible. The back gate, hidden by shrubs, was always padlocked but the keys were never guarded so I was able to find them in the security cabinet. Under cover of darkness, I slipped out and walked three kilometres along the deserted suburbans streets, past houses concealed behind leafy gardens.
Telopea Park was a narrow stretch of grass and trees running the length of our street. I hid behind a massive fir tree directly across the road from the townhouse and kept it under observation for more than half an hour. My mind churned with feelings of guilt for spying on my own family.
There was one light above the front door and all the blinds were drawn. Downstairs, the lights were on in the living areas, so I presumed that Letitia was at home. Upstairs, the master bedroom looked over the back garden so it couldn’t be seen from the street. The window on the left was Charlie’s nursery, and that was in darkness because he would probably be sound asleep. The most puzzling sight was a light on in the guest bedroom, the window on the right hand side.
I guessed that Letitia might be using that room as a study, or perhaps she was sleeping there. She wanted to avoid using the room we had shared because she still cared about me. Alternatively, her parents might be visiting, but I doubted that because they never wanted to travel.
I approached the front door and tapped gently three times.
Two seconds later there were footsteps. My heart stood still as the door opened just enough for Letitia to see who was there. It was quite reasonable at that time of night for her to be cautious. After all, she was by herself and I hoped that I hadn’t scared her.
Letitia frowned and made no attempt to open the door wider.
“Can I talk to you, Letitia?” I asked softly.
“You can’t come in,” she replied. “I told you to give me some time to think.”
“Is Charlie all right?”
“He’s very well. There’s no need for you to worry.”
“Please let me come in.”
“I can’t talk to you yet. I need some more time.”
“Can’t we work this out together?”
“Don’t you realise what you’ve done? Now please go away,” she said in a firm tone.
All I could do was beg. “Please talk to me, I’ll do anything.”
“I can’t be with you.”
“I’ll resign from Parliament.”
“I’m shutting the door now.”
There was a thud and scrape upstairs, and my heart jumped at the sound of another person in the house. She looked at me with fear in her eyes, like a poacher caught with a bloody carcass in their hands.
Then she closed the door in my face.
“Are you all right, Letitia?” I said, loud enough for the neighbours to hear. “Tell me that you’re safe.”
Fear gripped me about who the other person could be. Surely not another man.
She opened the door again, just wide enough to make her voice heard. “Of course I’m safe, I’m fine, stop yelling and go away or I’ll call the police.”
“I’m sorry, please forgive me,” I pleaded as she shut and bolted the door.
I ran back across the road to the park, overwhelmed with shame that I was one of those men who scares their wife so that she threatens to call the police. I kept on moving, heading back to The Lodge and telling myself that I never wanted to do anything like that again.
The policeman on sentry duty at the gate jumped to action when he saw me. “Where have you been, sir?” he asked as he opened it for me. “We’ve been looking around the grounds for you.”
“I just went for a walk,” I said, and ignored all the other questions on the way to my bedroom.
Staring at the ceiling while lying flat on my back, I wondered about the strange sound upstairs. Had there been anyone there or was it just something falling on the ground? Maybe it was a babysitter or one of Letitia’s girlfriends. She tried to hide it from me, so the alternatives took a wild ride in my head. Was there any chance that it could be a lover?
A dark thought came to me. I should continue to watch the house and spy on her. But I was the Prime Minister, with security guards watching me all the time and my job keeping me busy every waking moment. Besides, I loved and respected her far too much to behave like that.
The only decent thing to do was wait, give her the time she wanted and see what happened. I couldn’t believe her coldness to me. And there was also Joshua Byrnes to worry about.
After a while I tiptoed to the nursery as if Charlie was still there and gazed at the framed photos covering the walls. On the coffee table there was a ten-piece jigsaw puzzle made from our portrait, the three of us with happy smiles. I picked it up and for one second the pieces stayed together. Then they fell apart and scattered across the floor.
Sneaking into the garden, I strolled across the back lawn in the dark and down to the secluded waterlily pond. I picked up a handful of pebbles and hurled each one into the water. “Come back Letitia,” I cried over and over but no one could hear me.
After a while the night air made me shiver with cold and I wondered if the sound upstairs had bee a fantasy of mine, a noise inside my own head.
By the time I crawled into bed, I was convinced that she was by herself, living happily without me and looking after my little boy as if she was a single parent.
Letitia wanted to be left alone and my efforts to contact her by turning up at the door were rejected and effectively repulsed. She shut the door in my face and treated me like an enemy.
There was no alternative but to stay away, leave her alone and make no attempt to contact her. She wanted to be left in peace so that she had some time to think. I decided to focus on work and try to forget how my heart ached with love for them.
Chapter 18
The next eight days could only be described as torture. I followed my plan, kept my distance and avoided all forms of contact. Work filled every waking moment but
never stopped me missing them. Thoughts about Letitia and Charlie flooded my mind no matter how hard I tried to stop them.
Then I tried to contact her again.
That was one of the most important days of my career. As usual I had a very early breakfast and my normal six o’clock jog around Lake Burley Griffin. After a shower I was driven the short distance to work. The press enveloped my car when it stopped at the front entrance to Parliament House and as I walked inside with a smug smile they trailed behind me.
“Is today the big day?” asked Jason O’Brien, one of the oldest and most respected political journalists in Canberra, renowned for impressive food and alcohol consumption.
“Perhaps, Jason, I do hope so,” I replied.
Before the House of Representatives that day was the legislation to fund the construction of a superfast train from Sydney to Canberra. We had a clear majority in the House so were sure to win the vote, but the Opposition Leader, Doug Lapsley, was determined to oppose it, hellbent on having a fierce debate. If he convinced the general public and won the argument, then the nation might turn against the idea. The Freedom Party would drop in the opinion polls and the entire project might need to be shelved.
At sitting time, several of my colleagues expounded on the extraordinary benefits of a superfast train. Then the Opposition Leader erupted into a froth and bubble of furious assertions about the dangers, the environmental mayhem, the financial cost, and the negative impacts on the airline industry.
I was the last person to speak, and went straight for the jugular, attacking and destroying all his arguments. Lapsley had spent his early years as an environmental protestor, the favourite son of the radical tree hugging fraternity.
“I thank the honourable Leader of the Opposition for his insightful comments,” I said. “It’s worth noting that your first ten years after graduating were spent leading a wide range of environmental protests, and for three years you led the Anti-Development Party until it was disbanded in 1987. You have opposed every major infrastructure project in Australia because of a misguided but long held belief that all development is bad. And now you’re dragging the Workers Party down with you. I ask the Honourable Member to deny that he has not, throughout his career, systematically and deliberately opposed all major development projects.”