Evidence of Love

by Elisabeth Rose

  ‘No.’

  How dare she? He clenched his teeth hard to prevent himself from blurting out something about her relatives and their loose relationship with the law and how those types were all the same. If someone broke into their house they were the first to jump up and down demanding justice and calling the police lazy, worthless so and so’s.

  Lara stood up and swung Petey onto her hip. ‘Look at that big boat.’

  She pointed forward at a massive, slow-moving container ship making its ponderous way out to sea and ports unknown. The faster ferry gained ground and surged past. Idle crew members leaned on the railings and waved to the passengers lining the sides of the ferry. Petey clapped his hands and bounced in his mother’s arms, oblivious to the tension radiating from her in waves as big as those created by the ship they were passing.

  She moved forward to the bow. The wind was stronger up front and spray splashed into their faces when the ferry smacked down into the troughs. Petey loved it, laughing and squealing with delight. Nick stayed where he was, sitting guard over Lara’s bag and the stroller. They hadn’t reached the Heads yet. That’s where the big rollers came in from the ocean and hit the ferries side on as they crossed open water to Manly. At the moment they were still making their way up the harbour but soon the pilot would veer left and a whole other motion would begin. Anyone prone to seasickness would feel it there.

  Lara put Petey down and followed him along the narrow deck between the railing and the benches packed with passengers, helping negotiate his way between feet, knees and bags. He was having the time of his life. She had Nick to thank for that. She never would have thought to ride the ferry to Manly, or anywhere else. Also, she grudgingly had to admit, going anywhere with Petey in his stroller was awkward and often tedious. An extended outing became hard work — apart from running in the morning which was easy because the waterfront park was only a couple of blocks from home. Two people halved the effort. Nick queued for tickets, helped lift the stroller on board, minded the gear while she walked with Petey.

  She made a grab for her little adventurer as he attempted to climb onto a bollard. ‘Let’s go inside.’

  A pang of guilt struck her. She’d walked off and left Nick sitting there stuck with her bag and the stroller. He wouldn’t get up and leave her things unattended. She knew that, just as she knew he wouldn’t fabricate evidence against someone to get a conviction. How did she know? She couldn’t say, she just did.

  Inside the rows of seats were just as full as the outside benches but the closed interior was hot and stuffy with a pervasive smell of diesel. She led Petey straight across and out the far side door then swung him right to rejoin Nick at the front.

  He was sitting, arms folded loosely, staring out at nothing. The woman next to him had spread herself, nudging Nick along into Lara’s seat and refuelling with the bizarre combination of diet soft drink and fried chicken and chips. He straightened when Petey ran up and clutched his knees as the ferry plunged into a trough.

  ‘Did you explore the boat?’ He smiled that gentle smile he used on Brooke as he looked down at her boy.

  ‘I saw a big, big boat. It was this big.’ Little arms stretched wide. ‘Bigger than the world. Bigger than ever.’

  ‘My goodness me.’ Nick glanced at Lara but the expression was wary, questioning.

  She squeezed past Petey and sat down on the remaining strip of bench. ‘I’m sorry,’ she murmured.

  He leaned against her so their arms and shoulders rubbed and she felt the warmth of his body on her bare skin, but the heat he generated wasn’t just from the contact. His lips brushed her cheek, lingered an intoxicating moment, his hand covered hers briefly with gentle pressure.

  The ferry rolled sideways, the railing dipped towards the shiny blue water. Lara grabbed Petey as he fell away from her. ‘Gosh.’

  ‘We’re crossing the Heads. Further back the harbour’s sheltered but here the big waves come in all the way from South America.’

  She gave him a startled look. ‘Really? What about New Zealand? Doesn’t it get in the way?’

  Nick laughed. ‘Better hang on to Petey. It can be quite rough for a while.’

  ‘You didn’t tell me that!’ She dragged Petey onto her lap and clung on as the ferry rolled and pitched its way to the distant bay.

  ‘Do you get seasick?’

  ‘I don’t know.’

  ‘I think you’d be feeling off by now if you were going to be sick.’

  ‘I feel fine.’ She did. Her stomach wasn’t complaining at all and neither was Petey’s, going by the cheerful, excited face. ‘We must be good sailors.’

  ‘Looks like it. I’d love to go on a long sea voyage. Always wanted to.’

  ‘I’ve never thought about it but I’m really enjoying this. I love the salty smell of the water and standing up the front there is so much fun. Thank you for suggesting we do this today.’

  ‘I’m enjoying it too. I rarely get a day off.’

  ‘And you chose to spend it with us?’

  ‘It’s more fun with two people,’ he said easily. ‘I wouldn’t do it by myself. I’d stay at home and put off cleaning the bathroom or potter in the garden. End up doing bugger all.’

  She nodded. ‘You get used to doing things alone.’

  ‘But you were married. You must have done things together.’

  Nick didn’t think she’d answer but the conversation had swung naturally along this path and maybe she hadn’t noticed how personal it had become.

  ‘Tony preferred groups. He liked lots of people around him. He liked an audience. I wasn’t enough for him by myself.’

  ‘Why did he marry you, Lara?’ Softly so the fat woman guzzling deep-fried garbage and encroaching even further on his space wouldn’t hear.

  She hesitated for an in breath and he thought it was a question too far, but for whatever reason she said in a low voice heavy with bitterness, ‘I was part of a deal my father made with him. Tony liked the look of me and…’

  ‘Tony always got what he wanted,’ Nick finished. ‘But marriage?’

  She leaned closer, passing the words to him like poisonous secrets she’d always wanted to share but couldn’t. Words which had eaten away in her heart and mind until now. ‘He wanted a wife. Children. He also wanted somewhere legal to stash property.’

  ‘In his wife’s name. A wife who wouldn’t stand up for herself and would do what he said.’

  ‘And whose father owed him.’

  ‘What sort of man does that to his daughter?’

  She turned her head to stare at the shore, closer now, with small figures flying a kite on an open patch of parkland. ‘My father.’

  She might have been talking about a complete stranger and who could blame her? A father’s duty is to care for and protect his children, not use them as commodities and bargaining chips.

  But the father was dead. He’d read that in the information they’d dug up on the family. Fairly recent. A hit and run. Unsolved. It seemed from the reports that the investigating police didn’t waste too much time on the case, wrote it off as part of the fallout from the death of Tony Petrovic. A clearing of the ground for a new regime, as it were.

  Nick’s gaze landed on Petey. He stroked the dark curls. ‘For all his faults your husband gave you one good thing.’

  Lara’s throat tightened at the gentleness in his voice.

  ‘I have thought of it like that.’

  The words barely emerged. She squeezed Petey and kissed his cheek but another question burned to be asked, one that used to keep her awake at night in a sweaty panic even before her baby was born, a fear she’d never shared with anyone, for who could she ask? ‘Nick, do you think Petey will inherit his father’s… Is being a criminal a genetic inheritance?’

  He looked her in the eye, holding her gaze firmly. ‘No. I don’t think anyone is born bad, Lara. There’s no such thing as bad blood. Not unless they have something medically wrong with their brain and that does happen, but it’s an
aberration like any other illness or disease. Petey is a loving and loved little boy. Why would he turn to crime? You didn’t and he’s half you, remember.’

  She nodded, biting at her lip. Was he right? She wanted to believe him.

  ‘Children learn their moral code from their parents and the people who influence them, like teachers and friends. A million and one factors come into play. Anyone can go off the rails for a bit when they’re teenagers, we see that all the time; but if they come from stable homes with parents who care, they straighten up and never look back. It’s when the parents aren’t doing the right thing trouble really starts.’

  ‘I’m trying to be a good mother.’

  ‘You are a good mother. I saw that as soon as I stepped into your house and saw Petey playing with his blocks.’

  ‘Did you? How did you know that? You didn’t know me at all.’ Was he spinning her a line? How could she possibly tell? An instinctive distrust of the word of a man made her doubtful. None of them had done her any favours so far in her life.

  ‘I’m a detective.’

  Lara smiled, but he still didn’t know her, not really. No-one did. How could they when she didn’t properly know herself? She must be on guard, stop herself revealing anything else so personal.

  The ferry’s headlong progress slowed suddenly. Nick’s super-sized neighbour clambered to her feet with much huffing and puffing, swung the backpack with near lethal force, missing his head by sheer good luck, and waddled towards the gap in the railing where the gang plank would be placed.

  Nick slid into the vast newly open space so Petey could stand between them again and watch the docking procedure. His face was alight with interest and he pointed with both hands because one wasn’t enough. Her darling boy, chattering beside her, excited and enthralled by everything he saw. Nick was right. Despite everything, despite himself, Tony had given her the best and most precious gift of all. And it took a policeman to drive that home.

  The passengers left the ferry and the wharf and streamed across the road like the incoming tide.

  ‘Perhaps we should find a place for lunch before it gets too crowded,’ said Nick. ‘Then we can walk around later. Or we can buy sandwiches and eat on the waterfront or the beach when we want.’

  ‘That sounds good.’ Lara was more than happy to let Nick take charge. She had no idea where they were in relation to the beach or what was worth looking at in Manly but he set off towards a wide pedestrian concourse already jam-packed with people.

  How different from any outing with Tony. He’d never have suggested eating a sandwich on the beach. He’d have headed for the nearest up-market restaurant, insisted on the best table and ordered the most expensive thing on the menu to prove he could. Lara would sit by his side but take no part in the conversation because Tony’s offsiders would always be with them. Guido, Frankie and Lucas. His bodyguards, in reality. Lara thought of them privately as the Three Stooges. Guido had been killed in the same fight as Tony. Frankie was in gaol and Lucas had disappeared. Left the country, was the word.

  ‘I can smell the ocean.’

  A band was playing halfway along the concourse on a raised, canvas covered stage. An infectious Latin rhythm pulsed out taking hold of people’s feet, insinuating itself into sun-warmed bodies making people linger and move to the beat. Petey clapped his hands and bounced in his seat.

  ‘If you wait here and listen to the music I’ll go and buy our lunch,’ said Nick. ‘Don’t go away.’

  ‘We won’t. Thanks Nick. Apple juice for Petey and water for me please.’ She handed him twenty dollars. He took it without hesitation but his expression didn’t fool her. He hated taking her money. ‘You can shout us an ice-cream later,’ she said and he smiled.

  ‘Don’t go away,’ he repeated and gave her a stern, searching look. She shook her head. He threaded his way through the dancing spectators and disappeared.

  Lara turned her attention to the band. A trumpeter took a brash solo and the crowd cheered, whistling and clapping. Petey clapped, too. She should take him to hear the bands in Darling Harbour at the weekends. Ellie and Brooke might like to come, although Ellie was heading overseas in a month for her annual lengthy visit to her son in Switzerland for Christmas.

  When Petey was older they’d travel. Maybe take a cruise. Or go to South America or Cuba where they played this type of music everywhere. She could go anywhere she liked. The concept was both overwhelming and exhilarating.

  The tune finished and a dark-haired singer strutted onstage in a flashy red satin dress. She had a sultry deep voice which conjured visions of hot Brazilian nights and bars crowded with handsome men and sexy women. Sinuous curves accentuated the beat as she danced and sang. Lara rummaged in her bag and pulled out her notebook and a pencil. A few quick strokes captured the image she wanted to retain, a couple more gave substance to the face and figure of the girl. So hard to depict movement on paper, impossible to depict sound. She frowned at the page. Not nearly good enough. Perhaps she should investigate classes. Maybe over summer there’d be something. But Ellie would be away and Brooke would be back at work and living in her own apartment… She shoved the drawing into her bag.

  A few minutes later Nick was by her side again with a carrier bag dangling from one hand.

  ‘Shall we move on?’

  ‘If you like.’

  So easy, so relaxed and casual. Lara turned the stroller and followed the path Nick opened for her until they reached the edge of the audience where people were moving in a steady flow.

  Then they reached a road running parallel to the beach, waited for the pedestrian lights and surged across to a vast expanse of sea and sky. Two stately rows of Norfolk Island pines stretched right and left either side of the wide strip of grass between the footpath and the low sandstone wall separating the beachfront promenade from the sand. Nick led Lara to the wall and sat down. She stood gazing out at the never-ending blue.

  ‘It’s fabulous. What an amazing beach. It’s so long and wide.’ She shaded her eyes and stared north then south. The lifeguards’ red and yellow flags fluttered in the breeze, small figures bobbed in the foaming waves, further along in a different area surfboard riders careered in to the beach. Volleyball nets were set up a few hundred metres to the north, complete with bleachers for the spectators.

  And everywhere, people. Hundreds of tourists slung with cameras and bright T-shirts, dreadlocked backpackers lugging their massive packs, families lugging eskies and folding chairs, women in headscarfs with swimsuit-clad children, Chinese and Japanese tour groups staying tightly together like shoals of fish thinking safety in numbers, sun-browned teenagers clutching boogie boards, frazzled mums with crying babies, groups of loudmouthed young men in shorts and sporting beer guts.

  Nick sat beside Lara. So far so good and much better going than he expected. He loved to see her relax and enjoy what should be a normal outing for a family. Her family, he corrected himself hastily. He was just a friend. It was ages since he’d enjoyed a day out. If he had time off he mooched about at home or went grocery shopping.

  And she’d confided some very personal information on the ferry. The thought of her father and the way he treated his daughter made him grind his teeth in rage. Some people should never be allowed to produce children and that man was a case in point, yet he’d given the world four. Three boys who followed his own muddy footsteps down the slimy slope into a life of crime, and Lara. If ever she needed proof that crime wasn’t passed on genetically she had to look no further than herself. Petey was a fortunate little boy in more ways than one.

  ‘Let’s walk,’ she said.

  The volleyball games were in full swing with sweaty, sandy contestants hurling themselves about in the heat like maniacs. The crowds dwindled as the Manly shopping centre and the volleyball matches receded behind them. Rental apartments and hotels lined the road facing the beach, restaurants and bars became fewer.

  Petey insisted on walking. Lara dumped her bag in the stroller but her ga
ze rarely left her son running along in front of them.

  ‘Let’s sit on the sand for a bit so Petey can play,’ she said.

  Nick carried the stroller down the nearest steps. Shoes, socks and sandals came off and landed in the stroller. He rolled up his jeans, picked up the load and plodded after Lara and Petey to a patch of uninhabited sand.

  Petey squatted down and began scraping sand and tossing handfuls in the air, laughing as it landed on Lara’s bare legs.

  ‘Don’t do that, darling.’

  ‘Have a drink, Petey,’ said Nick to take his attention from the expanse of smooth, lightly tanned skin on display right next to him. He opened the carrier bag and pulled out the juice and water. Petey took his drink and wandered about kicking at the sand while he sucked up apple juice.

  Lara investigated the food. ‘This looks good.’

  ‘I probably got too much.’ He shrugged, but was ridiculously pleased by her enthusiastic approval.

  She unwrapped a roll and broke it in half. ‘Petey, sit down and have some lunch.’

  Nick started in on a beef and salad wrap. Lara tucked into another.

  A bouncy little tune started up from the laden stroller. She looked round in surprise. ‘That’s my phone.’

  ‘Better answer it,’ said Nick. He took a swig of chilled mineral water.

  ‘Hardly anyone has the number. I only turned it on today because Brooke…’ Her expression went from puzzled to anxious in a split second. She jumped up and rummaged in the striped bag emerging eventually with the singing phone.

  Nick straightened as she said, ‘Brooke? Calm down. I can’t…’ She flung a despairing glance at him and he held out his hand. She said, ‘Brooke, I’m putting Nick on.’

  Brooke was babbling something as he put the phone to his ear but he cut across the gasping, near hysterical voice. ‘It’s Nick. Take a deep breath and tell me what’s the matter.

  Chapter 12

  Lara bent her head close to Nick’s trying to listen in but couldn’t make sense of anything. He stood up, face a mask.