‘I know,’ she said, smiling.
‘This will all be over soon,’ he assured her.
She arched a brow, unconvinced.
‘Well, okay, it will take years, of course, for everything to go through the courts, but I think the hardest parts are behind me now. There were interesting developments yesterday and I just have a couple more people of interest to see. Once I’ve got their testimonies, if it all goes the way I think it will, I’ll have enough to lay charges against—’ He stopped himself before he could say the name. Even though he knew Hilda had already put the pieces together herself, legally he wasn’t supposed to talk about it with her, and that was a good thing, because she was a committed Catholic and this sort of conversation was hard for her.
Tully was the archbishop of her church too. If it was all true, if the archbishop was to be charged, if her faith’s structure was to be undone, he knew she’d deal with it then. But it was a lot to process, even for someone as spirited and strong as her.
Even though he had Father Bryce’s blessing and encouragement of his work, George couldn’t help but feel guilty for being the one to destroy so many people’s illusions.
Illusions? Was that really what they were?
And then there was the burden of bringing this huge elephant into the room of their marriage. Perhaps he should have refused early on, asked for a transfer to another department, or even quit. But the time for that had long since passed. He was committed now and he had to see it through.
‘Is this feeling better?’ Hilda asked, her movements slowing.
‘Much, thank you.’ He reached out and touched her hair. ‘I don’t know what I’d do without you.’
She leaned her face into his hands. ‘You’re my everything,’ she said, closing her eyes and soaking up his tenderness.
His heart lurched. ‘You’re my everything too.’ And she was. This whole investigation had been hard on him, but it had been almost as hard on his beautiful wife, who’d put up with his moods and migraines and absences—physical and mental. They needed some time together, to reconnect and rekindle.
She turned her head and kissed his palm perfunctorily, but not unkindly, then resumed her massaging.
‘Soon, very soon, let’s go on a cruise,’ he said, the idea just flying into his head, seemingly from nowhere.
‘A cruise? Where’s this coming from? You get seasick.’
‘I keep hearing about them around the office. Everyone’s saying they’re good. And affordable. For people prone to seasickness there are berths placed for less movement, there’s a doctor on board . . . most people are fine. And we’ll leave the kids with . . .’ he waved a hand, ‘I don’t know . . . someone.’
She laughed.
‘I’m willing to risk it if you are,’ he said, smiling.
‘Well, you know me,’ she said, visibly cheered. ‘I’m up for anything.’
‘Then let’s do it. How about you go see the travel agent down the road and get some brochures and we’ll get it booked in? It’s been years since we’ve been away, just the two of us. We can sleep in late, eat all day long, laze by the pool, drink a few cocktails?’
Hilda stopped massaging, climbed into his lap and kissed him for a long time. Then she nuzzled into his neck and took a long breath. ‘I’d love that.’
He squeezed her tight. Everything would be okay. It wasn’t long to go now.
The juicer growled and shrieked as Tansy forced ice-cold carrots down its throat, watching the bright orange liquid gush into the jug below. Leo came into the kitchen wearing a ripped t-shirt and long cotton pants, his hair askew, rubbing his eyes. He was studying today, preparing for his last two end-of-semester exams.
‘Juice?’ she asked over her shoulder, forcing deep red beetroot into the juicer, the motor straining.
He pulled out a stool and sat. ‘Yes, please.’
Celery sticks in too, liquefied in seconds, no challenge for the mighty machine.
‘You jogging?’ Leo asked, taking in her black leggings, fluorescent green shirt and joggers.
‘Yep.’ She turned off the roar of the juicer with some relief and poured out two glasses of deep purple liquid.
‘Can I come too?’ he asked, taking his glass. ‘Thanks.’ He spoke cautiously, aware that she was still angry with him.
Tansy sipped her drink and eyed him over the rim. She wasn’t sure she wanted him with her today.
‘Or not,’ he said, offended, his stubble catching the glow of the downlights in the ceiling.
‘You need to tell Dougal about uni—I can’t keep this secret whenever I talk to him. It’s not fair.’
‘It’s not a secret.’
‘Then why haven’t you done it?’ She disliked how she sounded right now, like some kind of mother figure, which she wasn’t. Or, she didn’t want to be, or mean to be. Actually, come to think of it, what was his mother thinking or doing about this? Had he even told Rebecca? Maybe she should give her a call.
But she couldn’t meddle. Leo was an adult. Well, kind of, if you considered that the male brain wasn’t fully developed until twenty-five years of age. So maybe she should be meddling. Parents never stopped parenting. And maybe they were needed more now at Leo’s age than ever before. He didn’t know what he was doing. He didn’t even have a whole brain.
But she wasn’t a parent.
Leo glared at her, drained his juice and stood. ‘I’ll text him now.’ He stalked down the hall and into his room.
And now Dougal was saying he wanted a baby, just as she’d talked herself out of it. She was all askew. Ideally, she would call Rose for advice, but her sister probably wasn’t in the best state of mind for such marital-themed discussions. Belle would be a better choice. It was only just past seven but she’d be up. She was always up, the poor thing.
So Tansy finished her juice and left the house, shivering as she hit the chilly morning air, walking down the driveway of the unit complex and then up the boardwalk towards the entrance to the national park, warming up her muscles. The sun bounced off the water and sand and made her squint. It was promising to be a lovely day. She put her earbuds in and dialled Belle’s number.
Belle’s voice was shaky.
‘What’s happened?’ Tansy asked, pushing up her pace to a brisk walk as she joined the coastal track, nodding at other walkers and joggers as each one passed.
‘I spent the night in hospital with Hamish.’
‘Is he okay?’
‘Nothing critical. It’s his ref lux. It got so bad that he was refusing to eat and crying all the time because he was hungry but he still wouldn’t take the bottle, smacking it away and throwing himself backwards.’ Her voice cracked. ‘He’s so light. I can feel how much weight he’s lost. I was worried he was dehydrated, so I packed him in the car and drove all the way to Nambour’s children’s section yesterday afternoon. Took more than two hours to get here. Then I waited so long in emergency, into the night, and they didn’t know what to do so they asked if I wanted to stay in with him overnight and see the paediatrician in the morning. So now I’m waiting again.’
‘Oh, Belle, that’s horrible. How are you coping?’
‘Well, they put me on a foldout chair—not a foldout couch, a foldout chair—that was so narrow I couldn’t roll over and so loud and squeaky that I woke Hamish if I so much as scratched my nose. I’m still in the clothes I had on yesterday and I’m eating from a vending machine. The doctors don’t take it seriously. I don’t think I’ll get any help here.’
She paused, clucking at Hamish, who was making some noise in the background. ‘Although, the nurses have been fantastic and one of them said to me straight away last night that we had to get him eating or he’d end up on a drip and that would be awful. She said I needed to ask for a referral to a gastric specialist, which no one’s suggested before. So that was probably worth it in itself.’
Tansy began to jog lightly, just enough to elevate her heart rate but not so much that she wouldn’t be able to kee
p talking. ‘That sounds like some sort of progress.’
‘The same nurse told me they have another little one, about the same age as Hamish, that also has reflux and also refuses to eat and they have to hold him down and force-feed him with a syringe while he screams and screams. Isn’t that horrendous?’
Tansy reeled at the thought. ‘Sounds like child abuse.’
Belle began to cry.
‘How long will you be in Nambour? I can come and see you,’ Tansy said. ‘I’m not taking on any new work right now, not with everything so up in the air about going to Canada, so I can drive down.’
‘I’d love to see you, but you know what the public system is like. I have no idea how long I’ll have to wait for the paediatrician, and once I’ve seen them I just want to get out of here. It’s such a long drive home again.’
‘Do you want to come and stay with me?’
‘I don’t have enough supplies and I need to go back home to my GP and get some sort of action. Besides, Hamish’ll start screaming again soon and continue until he passes out from exhaustion.’ Her voice broke again. ‘He’s so tired from the lack of food. He’ll barely even smile.’
‘Keep me up to date. and please let me know if there’s anything I can do. If you need to come back to see specialists or whatever, of course you and Raj and Hamish can all come and stay here.’
Tansy ended the call and upped her jogging pace. She felt so helpless for her friend. What a nightmare. She wished she could do something constructive to help, but it seemed that they’d all have to wait to get more information. In the meantime, though, she could help Maria.
She finished her jog and returned home to shower and change just as the cleaner arrived for the week, dragging her vacuum cleaner and bucket of products behind her. Tansy locked herself in her office and went online to look for a lawyer. She narrowed her search down to a couple, called them both to ask a few questions, then made an appointment for that afternoon with Zoe Smart because, well, she sounded smart.
Then she phoned Maria and told her she was coming to pick her up and drive her to the appointment and wouldn’t hear any argument.
32
Maria’s protests to Tansy were short-lived, both because her niece had turned out to be fiercely stubborn when she wanted to be and also because she couldn’t reasonably argue with what she was suggesting. As she’d expected to be in jail right now, she’d already organised for Petrice to be at the Haven (though hadn’t given her much by way of explanation so as not to alarm her) to take care of the drummers, who were so laid-back that they were pretty much self-sufficient anyway. And as she’d put Tansy’s name into the mix when talking to George Harvey, she couldn’t very well ignore the fact that Tansy might now need some legal advice too. So she bundled herself into Tansy’s car and down the mountain they went, Maria feeling unusually free of responsibilities after her unexpected reprieve.
On the journey down, she told Tansy all about George’s visit.
‘I wish you’d called me straight away,’ Tansy said, clearly angry. ‘You should have had a lawyer there when you spoke to him. Shit.’ She rubbed her forehead. ‘Sorry,’ she said. ‘I shouldn’t have sworn.’
Maria shrugged her shoulders. She’d heard worse in her life. Heavens, she’d done worse in her life.
‘I just want to protect you,’ Tansy said. ‘I don’t want you to go to jail.’
‘You’re incredibly sweet,’ Maria said. ‘I’m very lucky you found me.’
Tansy reached across and squeezed Maria’s arm.
The lawyer’s office was in the heart of Noosa, on the top floor of a menagerie of professional suites. Lots of glass and chrome. A big airy waiting room. A shiny receptionist. Perfect temperature. Quiet.
After a short wait, the receptionist ushered them into a boardroom with a long oval table, a whiteboard, and windows overlooking the street below, tastefully hung with wooden blinds for privacy. A few minutes later, Zoe Smart arrived. She was around Tansy’s age, wearing a black corporate suit and black-framed glasses. Her black hair was slicked back into a bun, and she wore neutral lipstick. Maria liked her immediately. She seemed capable and warm—despite being dressed like an undertaker.
They all shook hands and water was poured from a carafe into glasses. Zoe led with some small talk and then lit up with wonder to hear that Maria kept bees. ‘I’ve just installed a native beehive in my courtyard,’ she said. ‘I researched bees for a long time and the honeybees seemed like too much work for me, but the natives take care of themselves. It’s so fascinating to watch them and I love seeing them out there pollinating flowers. I have a cocker spaniel who just loves them too,’ she laughed. ‘People aren’t taking this bee crisis seriously enough. Everyone needs to be keeping bees.’
Maria liked her even more.
Zoe shook herself as if remembering where she was, and opened her notebook. ‘Now, how can I help you?’
‘Maria is involved with an investigation into the Catholic church,’ Tansy began.
‘I’m an ex-nun,’ Maria said, to clarify.
‘And she met with the investigating officer yesterday.’
‘George Harvey,’ Maria added.
Zoe took notes, nodding.
‘I wanted her to wait until we’d seen a lawyer.’ Tansy glanced at Maria, sounding more defeated now than angry. ‘I’m not sure what harm’s been done, if anything.’
‘Well, let’s see,’ Zoe said. ‘Maria, why don’t you tell me what’s happened and everything you told George Harvey?’
So Maria told her story, again. And she knew she’d have to retell it many more times yet before this was over. But it was getting easier. She was stumbling less over her words. In fact, it was almost as though she was retelling someone else’s story; so much of the suppressed emotion had gone, along with the sheer effort of keeping it to herself for decades.
Zoe adjusted her glasses in surprise, murmured at the right places, but never once seemed alarmed or horrified. Her expression remained calm throughout.
Finally, she leaned back in her chair and studied Maria. ‘Well, everything you’ve told me certainly makes me feel you could benefit from representation at this time, and I’d be happy to do that if you would like to proceed.’
‘Yes.’ Tansy jumped in without waiting for Maria. ‘We need help right now.’
Zoe nodded. ‘I’ll need you to sign your consent to engagement of services as well as an agreement to the fees.’
‘I’ll be taking care of that,’ Tansy said.
Maria felt sick then, thinking of all that money. Money that could be better used in Cambodia. ‘Surely it’s all too late?’ she said. ‘I’ve told George Harvey everything and he has it all on tape. There’s no going back now.’
‘That’s precisely why you need a lawyer right now,’ Tansy said firmly.
‘I agree,’ Zoe said. ‘Whether or not you choose me to represent you, you have confessed to a very serious crime. More action will follow. Honestly, I’m surprised it hasn’t yet. I’d be very keen to talk to Officer Harvey and find out where his motivations lie. It’s not the most usual way to proceed. But given your age—forgive me—as well as your voluntary confession and your obviously long track record of community service, combined with a clear record in all other respects, I can certainly appreciate why he would consider you to be a safe bet at this stage.’
‘He took my passport,’ Maria said.
Tansy gasped. ‘Did he?’
Zoe nodded. ‘That’s standard practice.’ She checked her watch. ‘As it’s now four o’clock on a Friday afternoon, I’m guessing you won’t be hearing from Officer Harvey again until Monday.’ She slid a business card across the desk to Maria. ‘But if you do hear from him, please contact me immediately. You shouldn’t be speaking to him again without a lawyer present. In the meantime, I’d like to run all this information past a colleague, just to make sure my thinking is on the right track. Everything remains confidential, of course, but it’s standard practice in
a matter as serious as this to involve a partner to ensure we’re providing the best possible service. Is that okay?’
‘Yes, absolutely,’ Tansy said.
‘Yes, thank you,’ Maria agreed, nodding.
Zoe smiled at her. ‘I know this is a daunting situation, Maria. But for what it’s worth, I’ll work hard to see you get the best possible outcome.’
On Saturday morning, Dougal texted: What the hell is wrong with Leo?
Tansy didn’t know what to say to that—she didn’t know what was wrong with him—so she simply replied that she was sure it would all work out, and that at least he was deferring and not quitting entirely, so that was something.
Then she texted her dad. I’m coming down this morning to visit. Should be there around ten. Can you please make sure Mum’s home? And can you not tell her I’m coming? I want it to be a surprise xx
Once again she picked Maria up in her car and drove her down the mountain. Maria was nervous—which was natural, Tansy supposed, given she hadn’t seen her sister in almost sixty years—tugging at her collar and shifting in her seat. She sat with her handbag on her lap, clutching it. She was muttering, almost talking to herself, fretting about Petrice alone at the Yandina markets, then reminding herself that it wasn’t the first time Petrice had manned the stall and in truth it wasn’t a particularly difficult job. Petrice wouldn’t actively sell the items to passers-by the way Maria did, but they should still do okay.
‘Does your mother know I’m coming?’ she asked finally, looking straight ahead at the winding road.
‘No,’ Tansy confessed. ‘It’s a bit risky, given how she reacted last time simply to the news that I’d been to see you. But I didn’t want to give her any opportunities to back out.’
Maria looked up at the roof of the car. ‘Well, this will be interesting.’
Tansy tittered uneasily and shook her wrist to adjust a bracelet that had wedged itself too far up her arm. ‘Interesting is one word for it. But it’s time, don’t you think?’
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