Evidence of Love

by Elisabeth Rose

‘I didn’t mind.’ She took the phone to her room, stacked her pillows as a backrest and climbed onto her bed.

  ‘You are the most extraordinary woman I’ve ever met.’

  ‘Is that good or bad?’

  ‘Good, definitely good. When can I see you?’

  ‘I’m not sure.’

  ‘Now? I can be there in fifteen minutes.’

  ‘Now? No…I don’t think…’ In her pyjamas? Did he expect to come into her bedroom? Into her bed? ‘No!’

  ‘Sorry. Too fast. Sorry. It’s just that I’ve wanted to kiss you since I first laid eyes on you and now that I have I want to do it again…but it wasn’t right. Probably still isn’t.’

  ‘No.’

  ‘You agree?’ Dismay filled her ear. ‘I was hoping you’d say it’s fine.’

  ‘You know my family history.’ What was he thinking? That it didn’t matter he was a cop and she came from a family who made an art form out of breaking the law.

  ‘Yes, but you’re not a criminal, are you?’ She heard the smile in his voice.

  ‘No but that’s not the point, is it? I was married to a crime boss.’

  ‘Who is dead and who beat you up.’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘So?’

  ‘It’s more complicated than that.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘You don’t trust one brother already and the other two are in and out of gaol. Plus my mother’s an alcoholic and that’s her best feature.’

  ‘So we don’t go there for Christmas.’

  ‘Nick…’

  ‘Too fast?’

  ‘Way too fast. I need to think this through.’

  ‘Trust me, you don’t.’

  Lara drew her knees up and wrapped her free arm around them. ‘I was brought up never to trust the police. Keep your mouth shut was the basic rule in our house.’

  ‘Don’t you trust me?’ The tone had changed. ‘Can’t you see me as a man apart from my job?’ He was serious now. So was she.

  ‘It’s hard to outgrow things from your childhood,’ she said slowly.

  ‘Even if you can see how wrong they are?’

  ‘I’m not sure I can.’

  ‘Why?’ Hurt flooded his voice. ‘I’d never harm you.’

  ‘I know you wouldn’t, not intentionally, not physically, it’s not that. It’s…hard, that’s all. I’m not ready.’ Not for Nick the policeman, not for any man in her life. She may never be.

  ‘Well, let me know when you are, Lara, because I’m not giving up on you. It’s taken me all my life to find you.’

  ‘Nick, I don’t think I’m ready for anything yet.’

  ‘Not even a friend? No-one has too many friends. Do you?’

  ‘No.’ She could count those on one hand.

  ‘Well? Friends?’

  ‘I suppose.’ He made it seem so simple.

  ‘Good. Tell me one thing before I go. Did you enjoy kissing me, Lara? It felt like it to me and I sure enjoyed kissing you.’

  Heat rushed to her throat and up into her cheeks. Thank goodness she was alone — her face must resemble a stoplight. She swallowed and pressed her palm against the hot skin of her face.

  ‘Admit it, sweetheart,’ he murmured. Smooth as honey.

  ‘Yes,’ she whispered and quickly disconnected. She did enjoy it, she’d even speculated about how his lips would feel but through the exhilaration and surprise a tiny part of her had held back. A voice sounding in her head saying ‘this is wrong. This can’t be.’

  At his end Nick disconnected with a smile stretching his mouth and creasing his cheeks into patterns he hadn’t felt for years. Delight, that’s what it was. Love, that’s what it was. He was in love with this flighty, beautiful, puzzling woman who was Lara Moore — or Maja Djokovic, he didn’t care which. The kiss had sealed his fate. She insisted it wasn’t a good idea but she was wrong. All he had to do was convince her this could work and he’d do that by being patient. He was good at that. Patience was stock in trade for a detective. Collecting information, waiting till things came together for a solution then pouncing.

  Lara had at long last been kissed, Keith the predator had been nabbed. All in all it had been a good day.

  Chapter 11

  By the end of the first week with Brooke in the house Lara’s doubts about the girl had faded right away. She helped with cleaning and cooking, Petey adored her and vice versa, she wasn’t intrusive and Lara discovered she filled a gap she hadn’t fully realised was there. She was becoming the girlfriend Lara had never had.

  The first couple of evenings, after Petey was in bed, they sat polite and awkward but quickly started a routine of eating ice-cream and fruit, with the occasional dip into chocolate, in front of the television. Brooke had gone right off the crime shows now too, so they watched movies and comedies and reality talent shows.

  ‘I’m going back to work on Monday,’ Brooke said when they settled in on Saturday night to watch a rerun of You’ve Got Mail.

  ‘Are you sure?’

  ‘I can’t afford not to.’

  Lara nodded. ‘How will you get there?’

  ‘Bus.’

  ‘Will you be okay?’ So far Brooke hadn’t ventured out in public on her own. Crowds of people made her nervous. Groups of men worried her, particularly young men. She’d seen the counsellor again since she’d left hospital, accompanied to the appointment by Ellie, but the woman assured her time would make all the difference. ‘Petey and I can come with you, if you like.’

  ‘I think I should do it by myself, Lara.’

  ‘All right, but call me if you need to.’

  ‘I will.’

  An excursion to the shops for a new phone had been successful, with Brooke skittish as a baby deer by her side. Fortunately, keeping hold of Petey, who had insisted on walking instead of taking the stroller, had distracted her. His constant chatter and need for attention was the perfect way to take her mind off lurking danger, imaginary or otherwise. But her workplace was small and familiar and her co-workers sympathetic, as far as Lara could judge. The boss had certainly been flexible with the time off.

  ‘I’m just doing the lunchtime shifts at first, Paul said, to see how I go. I’m glad because it means I don’t have to travel at night. I couldn’t do that, go out at night. Not yet.’ Her body gave an involuntary shudder.

  ‘I understand.’ Lara broke off a piece of chocolate and handed Brooke the slab. Dark chocolate with crunchy mint chips, their mutual favourite, they’d discovered. ‘When my husband hit me I was hurt and I was scared but deep down I was always determined not to let him destroy me — the me inside, I mean. He couldn’t take that no matter how much he punched me.’

  Would Brooke get the subtle message she was trying to send? Don’t let the bastard steal your life away? Don’t let anyone. That realisation had come only recently.

  Brooke nodded. ‘I feel the same. Especially now I know he’s been caught. Other girls came forward, did you know?’

  Lara shook her head.

  ‘He seemed so nice at first.’

  ‘They always do.’ Tony could be charming when he chose.

  Brooke’s mouth set in a firm line. ‘I won’t let him stop me living my life the way I want, even if I have to force myself to go on the bus on Monday.’

  ‘Good for you. Don’t push yourself too hard too soon, though.’ Lara held out her hand. ‘And don’t hog the chocolate.’

  Brooke handed it over and curled her legs under her as the ads finished and the movie began.

  ‘Enjoy your date tomorrow.’ Brooke didn’t turn her head, intent on the opening scene.

  ‘It’s not a date. It’s a friends outing. I said you could come too.’ Thank heavens only the standing lamp was on and her strawberry-red face wouldn’t be visible in the dim light. Nick’s call had been swift yesterday. A quick suggestion on his part, acceptance on hers and an arrangement to meet at Circular Quay, eleven am.

  ‘I’m more than happy to stay here and lounge in the garden. You can
leave Petey with me if you want.’ Brooke stole a quick peek at Lara, barely concealing the not so innocent smile.

  ‘It’s not a date and Petey’s coming.’ Lara almost growled. ‘I couldn’t not take him. He’s so excited about going on the ferry.’

  ‘Does Nick know he’s not getting you to himself?’

  ‘Of course he does and he doesn’t mind because it’s not a date. I’m not interested in men — not like that. I’ve had more than enough of them.’

  ‘If you say so. Sshh! Stop talking and pass the chocolate.’ A little snicker emerged from the intent watcher. Lara threw a cushion at her instead.

  ***

  Nick searched the dawdling crowds at Circular Quay with penetrating eyes. He glanced at his watch for the twentieth time in…two and a half minutes, folded his arms, unfolded them and walked a pace or two to the left and then a pace or two to the right. Had she changed her mind? Been held up? He pulled out his phone and checked. Switched on? Yes. Message? No. Had her misgivings got the better of her? Was she waiting in a different spot? They’d agreed to meet at the pier for the Manly ferry. He was in the right place at the right time. Early, in fact. She was now technically late. Should he call her?

  The Chinese busker a few metres away picked up his long-necked stringed instrument and began playing a slow wailing tune, exotic and out of place on the bustling waterfront on a warm Sunday morning. No-one stopped to listen. Tourists in shorts and gaudy T-shirts wandered by in clusters, searching for the right ferry wharf or heading along the concourse for the majestic Opera House on Bennelong Point. Family groups headed for the ferries and perhaps a trip across the water to the zoo, or like them an outing to Manly on the far North shore near The Heads where Sydney Harbour opened onto the rolling blue Pacific Ocean.

  Nick turned and leaned on the railing facing the water, feigning casual waiting mode. A large passenger ship was moored near the Harbour Bridge, too big to fit underneath. Thousands of people would have come ashore from that. The thing was massive. As big as a ten or twelve storey building. Must cost a fortune to sail around the world on one of those. It’d be like a floating town.

  ‘Hello.’

  He spun about. Lara stood there fresh and lovely in a white shirt with loosely rolled sleeves, denim shorts and sandals. Petey sat in his stroller. Both had sunhats and smiles, hers tentative as though unsure of her welcome. A large striped pink and green canvas carryall hung from her shoulder.

  ‘Hello.’ He risked a quick friendly brush of lips on soft cheek, hand lightly resting on her upper arm. She didn’t recoil the way he half expected. ‘Hello, Petey.’

  Petey said, ‘We’re going on a boat. A big, big, big boat.’ A chubby finger pointed at a green and cream ferry bouncing on the swell, the hull creaking and grumbling against old tyres tied to the wharf.

  ‘We are.’

  ‘Sorry we’re a bit late.’

  He couldn’t hold that limpid dark brown look for long. If he did the friendship deal would be in tatters because he wouldn’t be able to resist kissing her long and hard. Whose stupid, torturous idea was that anyway? Friends. But beggars can’t be choosers.

  ‘No worries. The next ferry goes in ten minutes, we’ve plenty of time.’ He extended an arm and guided her and the stroller towards the ticket window. She began rummaging in her shoulder bag but he said, ‘My treat.’

  ‘No, I’d rather pay for myself. Thanks.’ A tiny smile flashed on and off. ‘Friends, remember? ’

  ‘Okay.’ Not worth arguing about if that’s how she felt. He took the money she handed him and stood in the queue.

  She wheeled Petey across to the railings where he could see the boats and the water and the seagulls wheeling overhead, screeching and calling. Nick watched her bending to talk to the boy. They were an indivisible unit, Lara and her son, and she operated in isolation, in her own world, moving through society but apart from people in general. She had a subtly detached remoteness about her. A select few had earned her trust and breached the walls — the woman next door, the old gardening bloke on the other side and now Brooke. Two women and an elderly man who offered no masculine threat.

  This woman could not be rushed. He must tread very, very carefully if he was to succeed in his quest to win her heart. Problem was would he survive the strain of keeping his hands off her?

  He bought the tickets and joined her by the railings.

  ‘Here’s your change.’

  She took the coins and the tickets. ‘Thanks.’

  ‘Big boat, Mummy. Can we go on the boat now?’

  ‘Come on, we can wait down on the wharf.’ Nick led her to the turnstiles where the ticket collector opened the gate for Lara and the stroller. Petey almost climbed out of his seat with excitement when they walked onto the floating part of the jetty.

  ‘I daren’t let him out in case he falls in the harbour,’ Lara said.

  ‘Have you been on a ferry before?’ He’d got the impression she hadn’t when he suggested the trip across the harbour to Manly, and he knew she’d grown up in Melbourne.

  ‘No. I haven’t been very adventurous.’

  He could understand that, her desire to stay at home, safe in her house, unexposed to the nasty world outside. Lying low.

  ‘We can go places together if you’d like. Petey should visit the zoo. And Bondi, you have to see Bondi Beach.’

  ‘Not Bondi,’ she said swiftly. ‘But the zoo sounds good,’ she added when he raised an eyebrow at her vehement rejection of a world-renowned beach.

  ‘Don’t like the beach?’

  ‘Not particularly.’

  ‘Manly, where we’re going has a beach, a very good beach.’

  ‘Oh well, Petey can play on it.’

  A large ferry charged towards the wharf, surging through the waves and wash from a departing boat. Minutes later the gangplanks were down and people streamed off for their day in the city. Nick helped Lara lift the stroller on board.

  ‘Inside or out?’

  ‘Out.’

  They walked along the narrow deck and found space on the end of the wooden bench, towards the front on the far side from the wharf. Lara parked the stroller beside her as out of the way as possible.

  ‘Should I let Petey out?’

  ‘He won’t see much from in his stroller. We can hang onto him.’ Nick grinned at her. ‘If he falls overboard I’ll jump in and save him.’

  ‘If he falls overboard I’ll push you in after him!’ And she actually laughed. ‘And I’ll be right behind you.’

  She hoisted Petey up and stood him between them on the seat, holding him securely against her with both arms. A large woman crammed herself and her backpack into the space next to Nick, forcing him to move along closer to Petey and Lara.

  ‘I want to get down,’ said Petey, trying to prise apart her arms.

  ‘Not yet. Wait until the boat starts,’ said Lara.

  ‘I want to get down now!’

  ‘I’ll take him for a walk if you like,’ Nick said.

  ‘He can wait.’

  Nick sat back and got an inadvertent elbow like a hammer blow in the ribs from his neighbour. The engines gave a sudden shuddering roar and the ferry pulled away from the wharf in a swirl of greasy grey foam. Petey lurched forward and almost lost his footing but both Nick and Lara clutched at him. Little fingers grabbed a handful of Nick’s hair for support.

  ‘Ouch.’

  ‘Let go, Petey.’ Lara could barely speak for stifling the cackles of laughter but Petey, encouraged by the response, tightened his grip and added his other hand for good measure.

  Nick gritted his teeth. ‘Let go, matey,’ he gasped. ‘Please.’

  ‘Petey! Stop it!’ Lara snapped. Finally the little devil loosened his death grip.

  ‘I pulled Nick’s hair,’ he crowed.

  ‘Naughty boy,’ said Lara but didn’t sound at all upset.

  ‘Strong little chap,’ murmured Nick. He smoothed a hand over his tingling scalp, surreptitiously checking for bald patch
es.

  ‘At least now I know it’s all your own hair.’

  ‘Did you doubt it?’ He managed to look offended despite the disastrous effect her relaxed, happy face was having on his composure. If she kept smiling like that he’d be forced to kiss her and hang the consequences.

  ‘I don’t take anything for granted.’ Suddenly she was in that remote place again.

  Nick gazed across the water at the mansions lining the water’s edge in Kirribilli. Multi-million dollar properties alongside the Governor General’s residence and the Prime Minister’s Sydney base. Not much chance of the average citizen having an address like that unless it was in an apartment block or the family had got in very, very early, before prices became ludicrous.

  ‘How’s Brooke?’

  ‘Pretty good, considering. She’s going back to work on Monday. Day shifts.’

  ‘That’s good. Some women are so traumatised they won’t leave the house.’ He eased his knees back so some people could pass.

  ‘I think she’ll be okay eventually. Might take her a while to date again, though.’

  Like you, he wanted to say, but said instead, ‘There’s no hurry. It’s early days yet.’

  ‘Yes. She’s quite a strong person. She said she doesn’t want that guy to ruin her whole life.’

  Nick nodded. ‘Good attitude.’

  ‘What will happen to him?’

  ‘He’ll go to court.’

  ‘When?’

  ‘Hard to say. It could take months.’

  ‘Months? Does he stay locked up till then?’

  Nick shook his head. ‘He’s out on bail.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘That’s the way it works. The prosecution has to prove he bashed her.’

  ‘But she identified him.’

  ‘We don’t have any witnesses.’

  Lara snorted her disapproval, eyes fixed on the far shore.

  ‘We can’t manufacture evidence,’ he added with a touch of acid. What did she expect? Because her husband had ignored the law as a way of life the police could too? It was a different matter when the criminals wanted the police to act, when their own rights were violated.

  She turned her head then and gave him the full force of her disdain.

  ‘Can’t you?’ The implication was clear. Police did that all the time.