by Renee Kira
‘Iz, are you all right?’ I realised the line between us had been silent for more than a minute.
‘Yeah. Just thinking.’
‘Are you at home?’
‘I’m parked in my driveway but I’m about to go talk to my parents. I found some more stuff out.’ I take a breath. I don’t want to relay it all now. ‘You know, it’s probably not so bad. Compared to what Maya would have been through today.’
‘You want to talk later? I’ll finish up here around ten.’
What I really wanted to do was talk to Maya and make sure she was okay. She hadn’t returned my messages, I guess she didn’t want to talk. It would be better to talk to her tomorrow. My anger at my parents was still there, simmering deep in my guts.
‘Maybe. I’ve got to sort some stuff out first.’
I go to reverse out of my driveway, but something else catches my eye. There’s someone standing at my front door.
32
Isobel
‘You’ve got some nerve.’
The voice in the darkness startles me. I’ve left my car in the driveway and walked to my front door. The neighbours' windows are dark, none of them are likely to be at home.
‘Heather?’ I call out to Veronica’s mother.
She’s short, shorter than me and slim. Every other time I’ve seen her, she’s been wearing a cardigan with a dress. Today she’s in pants and a rain jacket.
‘Of course it is,’ she scolds.
I reach inside by handbag for my phone, pulling it out and unlocking it.
‘I’ll call the police if I need to,’ I say. ‘What do you want?’
The sensor lights I had installed haven’t switched on and we’re both standing in the darkness. I have no idea what to do. Maybe I should run away. Heather isn’t young, I’m guessing she’s around sixty, much like my own mother. I could get away from her in a heartbeat if I needed to.
‘What do you want?’ I repeat.
She laughs and her eyes move away from mine. ‘I want Veronica back.’
‘Of course you do. Everyone does.’ I don’t really know what to say.
She laughs again and this time she shakes her head. ‘No, they don’t. Someone doesn’t. They strangled her then pushed her over a cliff. You don’t want her back, Isobel. She was getting in your way.’
Now I have even less of an idea what to say.
‘You have no idea what the real world’s like, do you, Isobel?’
I take a step backwards. It feels like maybe I should have followed my first instinct and got out of here. My car is not far and running on foot could be even faster.
‘Do you want me to call someone to come get you?’ I ask.
‘You’ve got an education, don’t you? I hear you’ve got a law degree and a career to go with it. This monstrosity of a house. And now I hear you’ve got a boyfriend too.’
A boyfriend. Is she talking about Liam?
‘You know he was Veronica’s boyfriend? And then you took him. And Maya. You took her friend.’
Her voice is laced with crazy. No moon, no stars, just me and a woman on the psychotic side of grief. ‘Would you like me to call your husband? I’m sure he can come and get you.’
She rolls her eyes. ‘That useless lump? I doubt it. Anyhow, I’d much rather stay here and talk to you. Why don’t you invite me inside and show me your lovely house?’
‘No.’ I dial 000 on the phone and wait for the line to connect.
‘No? You don’t like sharing things. You enjoy taking them, though. Things that are Veronica’s.’
‘I didn’t know Veronica. I never met her.’
‘But you found her. You found her down there, all alone on the beach. Don’t you think that’s a little strange? You were there one to call the police. Now you’re seeing her boyfriend. Spending time with her friends.’
‘Heather, I’m calling the police, it’s ringing. They will be here soon.’ I actively step away from her as I talk, putting as much space as I can between us.
‘You can do that. I’ll just tell them you killed my daughter.’
There is something so much stronger than sadness I can see in her eyes. Her grief has morphed into anger. Her mind is full of terrible emotions all come to the surface, ready to make her do something crazy. I am about to be the target.
‘That’s not true.’ My voice is quiet and I’m almost back on the street out the front of my house. It’s probably not the right thing to say. I don’t think there is a right thing to say. Nothing can calm her down. Heather hasn’t moved from my front door. She doesn’t have a weapon that I can see. She’s getting closer to me.
‘Maybe you didn’t push her off a cliff, but you forced her there. If it wasn’t for you, she wouldn’t have been there. Your existence pushed her there. Your luck. It should have been hers. She was more deserving.’
There’s no sense to anything that she’s saying.
‘Don’t walk away from me. Face up to what you have done.’
What I have done? At that moment, the street fills with light. Car headlights are winding up the cliff road and turn into my driveway. It’s a good thing I wasn’t standing there.
Heather Hayes blinks into the light for a few seconds and then shields her eyes.
There’s a clunk of a car door opening and then Liam steps out. He pauses, looking from Heather to me. ‘Is everything okay?’
‘No,’ I say.
He turns and looks me up and down, standing on the curb of the road. ‘Are you hurt?’
‘No. I’m calling the police.’ I am, but the call’s not connecting.
Her scowl turns into a frown and she tucks her hands into the pockets of her jacket. ‘Forget it, I’m leaving.’
Walking straight past me, she walks two doors down and gets into a white four-wheel-drive. The same car that followed me recently. I’m still standing in the same spot when I notice Liam has walked over to me, his arm is around me.
‘Seriously, are you all right?’ he asks. ‘What the hell was that?’
Heather starts her car, does an abrupt U-turn and screeches away down the cliff road. As the sound of the engine fades into the night, I wait out the front of the house. I don’t turn to meet his eyes; I keep watching the car until I can’t see it anymore.
‘She’s crazy. She thinks I killed Veronica.’
‘I’m sorry I didn’t get here sooner. Come on, where are your keys? Let’s get you inside. We can call the police.’ He places a soft hand on the small of my back and pushes me towards the front door.
‘I don’t want the police here,’ I say.
‘What do you want then? Whoever you need, whatever. I’ll make it happen.’
‘Thai food. Thai food and Netflix.’
33
Isobel
Each time I pass a room, I stop and turn the light on. Damn the electricity bill, I’m keeping this place lit up like it’s Christmas from now on.
Liam is a few steps behind me. He gives the heavy front door a push and it closes with a thump. He follows me upstairs without saying a word.
I hurry, almost in a jog as I take the stairs two at a time. When I reach the kitchen, I open up a high cupboard and pull down a bottle of whisky. Briskly, I grab two glass tumblers and pour an inch in each.
‘I thought you were a wine drinker?’ he asks, his eyes on the bottle of whisky.
‘Wine is for good days, whisky for bad ones.’
Liam stands on the other side of the granite bench top, his eyebrows raise as he watches me. ‘Are you sure you don’t want the police involved? I can call them.’
‘Why?’ I ask. ‘They did nothing last time.’
‘Yeah, but Heather was trespassing. And threatening you.’
‘Maybe we can order some food instead. That Thai place near the beach delivers, right?’
I avoid his eyes. Picking up both glasses, I walk over to the couch and place the drinks down on the coffee table. I sit in a huff on the couch.
‘Sure. I can order o
n my phone.’ He sits down beside me and picks up the glass. After a small sip, he places it back on the table. ‘What do you like to eat?’
‘Whatever. Not a whisky drinker?’ I look at his glass.
He shakes his head.
‘I should have asked. Want a beer?’ I feel a flash of guilt. I’ve always been a bad host.
‘No, I’m fine.’
I take a long sip of my drink.
Liam tilts his head towards me. ‘I know you’re shaken up, but make a report. If nothing else, at least it’s on the record.’
‘On the record?’
He turns his legs towards me, moving slightly on the couch. ‘Well, if it wasn’t Maya… there’s still an open murder case.’
‘You think I need to defend myself?’
‘No. Not at all. What if Heather’s threatening other people? What if she hurts someone?’
‘You think Heather did it?’ I ask.
‘No. I think she’s a mess because her daughter is dead. Maybe she will do something.’
I take another long sip. I’m usually slow with alcohol. ‘Do you think she could hurt someone?’
‘Possibly.’
I nod. ‘I’ll go down the station in the morning.’
‘Call them now. Don’t change your mind later.’
‘Okay.’ I lean forward to pull my phone out of the side pocket of my jacket.
I don’t call the emergency 000 line or even the station. Stacey Collins gave me her mobile number the first time I met her. It goes to voicemail, like I was hoping it would. I leave a message. Liam leans back into the couch, looking relieved.
‘You know what, I will have a beer,’ he says.
‘Good.’ I stand and go over to the fridge, grabbing a cold amber bottle by its neck. ‘I’ll drink your whisky.’
I sit back down and pass him the beer; he pushes his own whisky glass in front of me. For a little while we drink in silence.
‘You used to do this before. Back in the old days,’ he says, breaking the silence.
‘The old days?’ I look over at him, but he’s staring at the black screen of the television.
‘The old days of you and me.’
I ignore his nostalgia. ’What exactly did I do?’
‘You stonewall. Your face goes blank and you won’t look at anyone. You avoid talking.’
‘I talk all day at work.’
‘You know what I mean. You never talk about yourself. Not about what’s going on inside your head.’
I sigh. ‘Yeah, you’re not the first to complain.’
‘It made it hard when we were together. I never really knew what was going on with you.’
‘You weren’t the greatest communicator either,’ I say.
‘There were things I needed to talk about,’ he says.
‘Like what?’ I ask.
He shakes his head. ‘I’m sorry. It was a long time ago.’
‘Yeah, it was.’
‘You know there’s another way to work through things. One that’s really helpful and constructive, not only for you but for the people around you who are trying to work out what the hell is wrong.’ He tilts his head, waiting for me to respond.
‘Therapy? I’m not a fan.’
‘It’s way cheaper than a shrink. All you have to do is tell the other person what’s going on.’
‘Going on?’
‘Yeah, what’s going on. In your life or in your head. And they might not have any answers. In fact, they probably won’t. But you’ll feel a lot better just for saying the words.’
I’ve had conversations like this before. ‘I’m sorry. There wasn’t a lot of talking in my house when I was growing up. Not about feelings.’
He nods, listening.
‘My Dad… a lot of stuff happened to him when he was younger. He was political. He ended up imprisoned for a few months. But by imprisoned I mean locked in a basement where he was tortured.’
‘That’s terrible. Is he okay now?’
‘He’s… Dad. He deals with it in his own way. He never speaks a word of it to me. I’ve just put all the pieces of it together over the years. I think that’s his way of dealing with it. Not sharing it.’
‘Maybe he doesn’t want to talk about it because he doesn’t want to burden you. If someone tortured me, I’d never want my children to bare that.’
I nod. I think about Max Hayes. I’d seen plenty of photos of him over the last week or so, and I don’t doubt that Liam is his father. He’ll likely be dealing with Heather if he wants a part of Max’s life.
I take a deep breath and turn around, facing Liam. Maybe it is time I talk a little more.
‘What happened before… it scared me when Heather was here. I didn’t know what she wanted or what she would do. For all I knew, she had a gun or something. As well as being scared, I’m angry and pissed off.’
‘Pissed off? Because she came here?’
I nod. ‘Yeah, but because of what she said. I know you didn’t hear it. She said I stole things. That I don’t deserve the things I have because I haven’t earned them.’
‘She’s a madwoman.’
‘Some of it is true. Not in how she said… it’s like what they say, the people who get to you the most are the ones who hit your weak spots.’ I take a breath. Now I had started, I might not stop. ‘You know, I only got into law because my grandfather paid the fees up front. He knew someone at the university. My final score on its own was too low.’
He shrugs. ‘You had a good score, I remember. You could have done a semester of something else and gotten a transfer. If you wanted it, you could have gotten it on your own.’
‘Luck plays a part. I wouldn’t have my career if someone hadn’t paved the way. Or this house. I inherited it unencumbered; not even a mortgage. I feel… I feel like a fraud sometimes. Especially when I compare myself to someone like Veronica. She worked hard and built a business. She raised a child. I can’t even do that.’ My voice cracks and I can feel hot tears on my cheeks. I try to wipe them with the sleeve of my jacket.
‘Stop giving yourself a hard time.’ His voice is quiet. He leans over and tucks of lock of hair behind my ear, then wipes my eyes with the back of his hand. ‘You didn’t ask for any of it. You worked hard and got that degree. You’ve had a good career. People give you their work because you’re good at what you do. And this house? You’re the person who renovated it. And, it looks a million times better than when we were kids. Maybe you got a little lucky, but you’ve worked with it. You’ve made yourself a life.’
I nod and take a deep breath. I want to believe him.
‘What did I do to make her so angry?’ I ask. ‘Does she think I killed Veronica?’
He looks surprised at my question. ‘Heather? No. She’s in a bad place. And you’re the closest thing to her. You’re standing in the way of a volcano about to erupt.’
‘Do you think it was because I found the body?’
‘Maybe you remind her of Veronica. You have the same hair colour.’
‘There’s plenty of other redheaded women in town she could have fixated on.’
‘Grief does strange things to people. Neither of us can understand what she’s going through.’
Liam takes the last swig of beer. He makes a good point. I’m at the bottom of my second glass. ‘Refill?’ he offers.
‘Sure.’
He helps himself to another beer from the fridge and brings the whisky bottle over to the couch, topping up my glass before he sits down.
There’s a buzz, letting us know someone is at the front door. Liam’s phone makes a noise at the same time.
‘Thai food’s here, should I go down?’ he asks.
‘Yeah.’
While he is downstairs, I grab some plates and cutlery and take them to the coffee table. It feels like the kind of night to eat on the couch. Liam comes back with a plastic bag full of food containers.
‘That’s a lot,’ I say.
‘Sure is.’
Without
asking, I serve us both, putting some of everything on one plate and handing it to him, and then doing the same for myself. We both sit on the couch, food on our laps.
’So you were in therapy?’ I ask.
He grins, ‘What gave it away.’
‘Everything. You never used to speak like that.’
‘I guess not,’ he answers. ‘I’m much happier now. And yes, I was in therapy. A lot of it.’
‘Wow,’ I try not to smirk as I bring a forkful of flat noodles to my mouth.
‘There’s nothing wrong with that,’ he says.
‘No. It’s kind of surprising. You were driven. I can’t imagine you needing help.’
He laughs out loud. ‘Not at all. Think of me as a duck. It looks calm on the surface but there’s a lot going on underneath… And that took its toll. I never learned how to deal with stress. When things got hard, I fell on bad habits. You see, I have this weakness.’
‘I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make fun of you,’ I say.
He shrugs. ‘It’s okay.’
‘So, what were the bad habits then?’
‘Mostly gambling,’ he looks away from me.
‘When we were together?’ I cast my mind back and try to remember. All I can think of is a couple of bets on horse racing. Did I not notice?
‘It started then. It wasn’t a lot. The more hours I worked, the worse it got. And then I lost my son because of it.’
‘How?’ I ask.
‘Now and then I’d get an investment tip from work. Usually a biotech company positioned to do well. I made a bit of cash. Veronica caught wind and wanted in. I told her there was a startup, and that I could invest for her. She gave me twenty thousand dollars.’
‘Wow. So, it didn’t pan out?’
‘No. It was real. I planned to. But… I didn’t invest her money. I lost it. Gambling.’
‘So, she ended things over that?’
‘Yeah. Things hadn’t been great. But then she stopped me seeing Max. I’d lost all her savings and that she needed the money for him. For his future. She said that when I paid her back, I could see him. That I didn’t deserve to until then. I kind of agreed with her.’
