Wreck

by Fleur Ferris

  The two lions signify the Chisel brothers, Dad and Uncle Oliver, the power hub of our family. One lion has legs, the other a fishtail – rule on land, rule on sea. I run my finger over the embossed gold lions at the top of the page. It’s on all of the Chisel stationery, the Chisel cars, even the front door of Dad’s building.

  ‘He wants it removed,’ Mum says, ‘from everything. He’s already got Carrington onto it.’

  That’s huge. It will cost millions to change the company’s logo.

  ‘He needs sleep,’ Mum says. ‘He’s in no state to be making any business decisions.’

  I’m sure Dad needs more than sleep.

  I make toast but I can’t bring myself to eat it. The sick feeling inside doesn’t allow room for food. Horrible thoughts about Christian come thick and fast and I can’t make them stop. Not knowing is the worst.

  Dad returns to the kitchen. ‘Oliver is going to be all right. He has broken ribs. Selena is at the hospital, which is probably why she’s not getting back to you.’

  ‘I hope so,’ Mum says. ‘She was so angry. So hateful …’

  ‘Don’t say things like that. She has every right to be angry. Christ, her son is still missing. Her only son.’

  ‘Having only one son would not increase or decrease the pain of losing him.’ Mum is standing up now. ‘The two matters are unrelated. As is Christian going missing and Knox being drunk on the boat. It is not your son’s fault that Christian gave him the life jacket and Selena was out of line to blame him.’ Mum doesn’t hide her irritation.

  ‘Jacki, for Christ’s sake … Ignore everything Selena said on the island. She was in shock.’

  ‘She still meant it, Damien. Every word. She’s always put Christian on a pedestal – Christian is this, Christian is that, I have to listen to it all the time. She’s relentless. Everyone is. No wonder Knox has hang-ups.’

  ‘We’re not going to fight about this now. I told them we were coming to the hospital.’

  ‘I’m not fighting! I’m just being honest. I’m serious, if she starts again, I’ll be telling her what I think. Knox can’t wear the blame for this. He loves Christian as much as everyone else.’

  Hearing Mum stand up for Knox makes me sick. Even though I know she’s more concerned with Selena’s behaviour, she wouldn’t be so quick to defend him if she knew what he was like when she’s not around. If she knew that he’s not just a prick when he’s been drinking.

  Mum says she’s going to shower and dress and tells me to do the same. The cuts on my back and feet have scabbed over and feel itchy. They were nowhere near as deep or as serious as I thought on the island. When I’m ready I wait downstairs for Mum. She’s taking ages.

  A chime sounds, which tells me there is someone at our security gate. I walk to the hallway, touch the screen and Portia’s face appears. I release the gate and she enters. The door is already open for her.

  ‘Hi, Portia.’

  Portia flinches when she looks at me. ‘Your poor face still looks so sore,’ she says.

  ‘Mmm,’ I say. Knox is such a bastard.

  ‘Is there any news?’

  ‘Nothing. We’re about to go to the hospital to see Uncle Oliver.’

  ‘I’ve just come from there. I only stayed a few minutes. Is Knox going too?’

  ‘No. He’s upstairs. He got home sometime early this morning. He’s gone to bed, I think.’

  ‘I need to ask him about the search. I’m desperate to know what’s going on.’

  Portia walks past me and up the stairs. She knows her way around the house because she’s always here with Christian.

  Mum comes down the stairs and Portia isn’t too far behind.

  ‘He’s asleep,’ Portia says. ‘Didn’t have the heart to wake him. Do you mind if I wait down here for him? I … I can’t stand waiting at home.’

  ‘Of course.’ Mum walks over and hugs Portia. ‘You are always welcome here, you know that.’

  ‘Thanks, Jacki. Have you spoken to Selena?’

  ‘Not yet,’ Mum says. ‘Did you see her?’

  Portia nods. ‘She’s not doing so well.’

  ‘C’mon,’ Dad says to Mum.

  I follow them out the door.

  When we arrive home from the hospital, Knox and Portia are sitting at the edge of the pool. Mum makes lunch and calls them to the patio. Portia and Knox slowly make their way to the table. Dad places a jug of chilled water with slices of lime on the table. We all sit down and wait for Mum to come back from the kitchen. Lunch is a smorgasbord of rolls and sandwich fillings. We each make our own, but my stomach still doesn’t want food. I put my plate down in front of me, sit back, take a deep breath and stare at the Sydney Harbour Bridge. Christian loved this view. You can see the harbour from his house as well, but it’s from a different angle.

  ‘I can’t stand this waiting,’ I say, trying to start a conversation. I need to be distracted from my thoughts.

  ‘I know,’ Portia says. Her eyes gloss over with tears.

  ‘We should be doing more. We should be out there searching too.’ I look at Dad. He has helicopters and pilots. ‘Surely the more people out looking the more chance we have of finding him.’

  ‘They’ve already extended the search team and the area,’ Dad says. ‘They are searching by air and on the ground.’

  ‘It doesn’t seem enough,’ I say. ‘What about the boat? Do we leave it there or get it lifted out?’

  ‘Carrington’s taking care of everything,’ Dad says.

  ‘What about work?’ I say. ‘Who’s running the business?’

  ‘Carrington.’

  ‘I can go in to work,’ Knox says.

  Everyone turns towards him.

  ‘I can do it. I want to. I was being a total arse before and I’m sorry. I can help Carrington.’

  I can tell Dad’s thinking about it.

  ‘I can’t stand waiting either. I feel so useless sitting around here for the phone to ring,’ Knox says.

  Dad nods.

  ‘The phone may never ring,’ I say, watching Knox.

  Mum gasps.

  ‘Well, it’s true,’ I say. ‘Christian may never be found.’

  Silence falls over the table. Knox meets my gaze.

  Portia places down her napkin. ‘Excuse me,’ she says and walks inside.

  Knox glares at me. ‘Good one.’

  ‘Don’t start,’ Dad snaps. He’s been so short-fused since the accident.

  Knox gets up and goes after Portia.

  ‘William’s right,’ Mum says through fresh tears. ‘Christian may never be found. We may never know where he is.’

  Dad holds the table with both hands and closes his eyes, breathing deeply. Suddenly he pounds the table with his fist. Mum and I both jump. The air catches in my throat and I can’t breathe. Dad gets up from the table and storms inside.

  When Dad’s out of sight, I place my head in my hands. I shouldn’t have said it.

  ‘He’s not angry at you, Will,’ Mum says. ‘He feels responsible for what happened. He’s angry at himself.’

  ‘He is responsible for what happened,’ I say.

  Mum stares at me.

  ‘Please, never say that again,’ she says, flatly.

  Mum leaves the table and walks inside without saying another word. I’m left alone with a table full of food I don’t want.

  I pack up some plates and take them into the kitchen.

  Portia is sniffling and Knox is comforting her.

  ‘We’ll never give up hope,’ Knox says to Portia. ‘Christian is freaking amazing. Like Superman.’

  Portia laughs through her tears.

  He narrows his eyes when he sees me and gives me a look I have no problem deciphering. Fuck off or else.

  I am moved from Interview Room One and seated at a cluster of tables in a large room. Sergeant Wheldon, Kate and the detectives gather around. As Senior Detective Lim leaves to find Knox, Constable Belling pulls up a chair, his eyes as wide as his smile. I clasp my han
ds together and wait.

  To say Knox Chisel has a presence is an under-statement. Maybe if you are brought up to be someone, you naturally fill those shoes. Maybe when people notice you because of who you are, because of your wealth and power, you behave in some kind of god-like way and give off a god-like aura, because Knox Chisel is god-like. My jaw drops. He looks exactly like Zel, only well-groomed and unbruised. He has the calmness of a flat, glassy lake and the class of royalty. He’s wearing a navy suit, white shirt and an ice-blue tie. His hands are suntanned, long and elegant and he wears a gold band on his wedding finger. He thanks Senior Detective Lim, only he calls him Ryan.

  ‘You must be Tamara.’ His voice is rich and smooth and he reaches out to shake my hand. When I offer mine he takes it in both of his, like he is thanking me from the bottom of his heart. ‘You have been through such an ordeal. Are you okay?’ He lets go of my hand and looks me up and down as if he needs to examine me with his own eyes to believe I am okay.

  ‘I’m very shaken and tired, but I’m not hurt.’

  His lips purse together sympathetically. ‘I’m so sorry you were dragged into this mess.’ Sadness fills Knox’s eyes. ‘My little brother is unwell … I’m just relieved he didn’t hurt you.’ He places his hands on the desk in front of him while he pauses. ‘William hasn’t been well for a while now. A long while. There was a family tragedy that affected us all terribly.’

  ‘I know. Zel told me about Christian.’

  ‘Yes. William idolised him. We all did. We all needed help after that accident. It tore us apart, but William never really recovered. Now I fear he is paranoid and delusional and as a result has become dangerous.’

  I’m floored. Knox seems so genuine. His confident words and sincere concern make my story about Zel seem far-fetched. They must think I have a flimsy mind to have believed him. But at the time, I did believe Zel … Everything he said was so plausible, so genuine. It made sense.

  ‘You don’t believe Zel killed my colleagues, do you?’

  ‘I wish from the bottom of my heart I could say I didn’t.’

  ‘But there was another guy there,’ I say, my eyes brimming with tears. Sure, Zel was highly strung, but he was protective, not crazy.

  Knox pauses. ‘Again, I’m so glad he didn’t hurt you, Tamara. I’m terribly sorry this has happened.’ He’s dismissing my story, trying not to patronise me. I look at the senior detectives, at Sergeant Wheldon. They don’t meet my eyes. I feel so stupid.

  Tears spill over. ‘What about the notes?’

  Knox looks to Senior Detective Lim.

  ‘We don’t have proof,’ Senior Detective Lim says, ‘but we suspect William is fabricating and planting them.’

  Knox is looking at me so earnestly that I start to question myself. Question Zel. Question my thoughts about Zel. Everything Knox is saying sounds so reasonable.

  Then I remember my last words to his brother.

  No matter what happens, remember, I believe you.

  That’s what I said to him. I remember the release of tension in his shoulders, his eyes closing, and the breath he took before saying, thank you.

  My stomach turns at the memory and I fight back more tears.

  No words come, just confusion. I was certain there were two guys.

  Then I remember Zel knowing my name and the location of the Coastal Daily. Had he been watching me surf? Had he seen me pick up the bottle with the note inside? Did he follow me to work that day and know I opened it with Darryl and Simon?

  A chill moves up my arms and into my chest and makes me shiver.

  ‘Are you cold?’ Knox asks.

  I shake my head and my eyes lock with his. Genuine concern radiates through them, sadness too.

  ‘Tamara, I would like to offer compensation for the psychological trauma you have suffered.’ Knox sits quietly for a moment, letting me collect my thoughts.

  When the police were interviewing me I answered everything as accurately as I could, thinking I was helping Zel, trying to support his case. Now I realise all I have done is convince them I am gullible. They all feel sorry for me. I can see it in their eyes. Knox feels responsible because he’s Zel’s brother.

  I clear my throat. ‘Sergeant Wheldon, you contacted my friend, do you know if she’s here yet?’

  ‘I’ll check,’ Sergeant Wheldon says as he stands and leaves the room.

  I want Relle so much. I want to be in her bedroom with the door closed and the blinds down, in clean pyjamas telling her this story. She won’t think I’m stupid.

  I look at Senior Detective Lim. ‘What happens now? Am I allowed to go?’

  ‘Yes,’ he says. ‘You are no longer a suspect, nor under arrest. You’re free to go anytime you wish.’

  Sergeant Wheldon appears at the door. ‘Tamara, your friend has just arrived.’

  My chest caves at the thought of hugging Relle. I’m ready to stand when Knox stops me.

  ‘I hope you will accept a lift home from my driver. Your friend can go with you.’

  ‘Thank you, but Relle and I can find our own way home.’

  Knox pulls a card from the inside of his jacket and hands it to me. ‘This has my number. Please, call me if there is anything you need. Anything.’ He pauses. ‘It’s really important to me and my family that William is brought in peacefully and unharmed so we can get him the medical help he needs. If you remember anything that would help us find him, please call me.’

  I shake my head. ‘He didn’t tell me where he was going.’

  ‘One last thing,’ Knox says. ‘William is very dangerous right now, Tamara. If at any stage you would like security until William is brought in, I am happy to accommodate that. I don’t want to be invasive, but I do want you to be safe. I’m willing to arrange that for you immediately, and would recommend you do so.’

  ‘Security? Like bodyguards?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘But William never hurt me. He had lots of chances to kill me. If that was his intention, I would already be dead. He put my safety above his own.’

  ‘I am so relieved to hear that, Tamara,’ Knox says.

  I look down the hallway. ‘I think I’d like to go now,’ I say.

  Knox stands and everyone follows. Knox would be about the same height as Zel. He’s broad like him too. Fit and strong. His jaw is chiselled and when he clenches it the muscle pops out the side of his face, just like Zel’s. He moves fluidly, like fit, confident people do, but it’s his grace that sets him apart from others.

  He gestures with his hand for me to lead the way down the hallway. I open the door to reception and see Relle sitting there. She’s in black shorts and an orange tank top. Her arms are covered in fluorescent yellow and pink stripes and splodges and some of the colour is in her hair. On her feet are purple thongs with little diamantes.

  She springs up to hug me, but when Knox follows me out her mouth drops open. She doesn’t try to disguise it. She refocuses on me.

  ‘I’ve been so worried. Are you all right? I heard what happened, then you didn’t show up and I waited and you didn’t answer my calls or texts and, sweet Jesus, is that …?’

  Knox reaches out for Relle’s hand. ‘Hi, I’m Knox Chisel.’

  She shoves her paint-splattered hand forward and bats her eyelashes. ‘I know, I’ve seen you on TV.’ She laughs nervously. ‘I’m Narelle, but you can call me Relle.’ She blushes.

  ‘Very nice to meet you, Relle. It’s so kind of you to drop everything to be here for your friend.’

  Relle beams at him.

  ‘Let’s go home,’ I say.

  Relle’s eyes flick back to me.

  ‘Res home or home home?’ Relle asks.

  ‘Home home,’ I say.

  ‘Of course. Sorry, I’m not thinking. Are you okay? You haven’t said.’

  This time when she asks my tears come forward. She opens her arms and I walk into them. I’m so glad she is here.

  ‘We’ll talk on the way,’ I say.

  Kate Wint
er steps forward. ‘I’d like a brief moment in private, Tamara,’ she says.

  ‘I’ll go,’ says Knox. He says goodbye and leaves.

  When Relle starts to leave I grab her arm. ‘You can stay.’

  Kate keeps her voice low. ‘Are you happy with your treatment by police here today?’ she asks.

  ‘Yes,’ I say.

  ‘Are you happy with how your interview went?’

  ‘I … I’m not sure,’ I say. ‘At the time I was happy, but now I don’t know. I’m confused.’

  ‘With the procedure?’

  ‘No, with how my story is perceived. What actually happened, even though I was there … how can that be?’

  ‘You can only answer as honestly as possible. It’s up to the detectives and the courts to interpret what that means. Hopefully the truth will come out.’

  Truth.

  I roll the word around inside my head. It is such a strong word. Truth. It conjures such a defined and righteous image in my head. Truth. There is only one truth. The events that took place are the truth. Things happened, things were said. The perception of what the truth means is where it gets murky. Reporters are not supposed to determine what things mean. Reporters are supposed to report the facts and leave the perception up the public. Yet, it depends in what order we report facts. We can sway the public by the order of the sentences, by the things we leave out. We can lead someone to a thought, a conclusion. Darryl was so fixated on honest reporting. The public deserves the truth, not your personal opinion, he would say, or, News is only news if it’s true, anything else is gossip.

  I keep forgetting Darryl and Simon have … they are … someone …

  It’s hard to even form the thought. I’m going to miss them.

  ‘Thank you, Kate,’ I say. ‘I’ll be in touch.’

  ‘Can I drop you in the city?’ Kate asks.

  ‘Yes. Thank you. That would be great.’

  Kate drops us at Southern Cross Train Station. Relle doesn’t push me to talk at the crowded station, nor on the train. I lean my head against the window and I’m asleep before we get out of Melbourne.

  The moment we step inside the gate of my front yard, Relle grabs my arm.