‘How am I supposed to do that?’
‘Evan says you’re going to have to work that out with Krystal,’ Melba said. ‘It’s the only way.’
‘Nothing she said was true,’ Pippa said, sliding into the passenger seat and tugging on the seatbelt. ‘She didn’t give you anything valuable, she just put it all back on you because she was clearly out of her depth. Total fraud.’
‘What are you talking about? She knew his name!’
‘Lucky guess.’
‘There are about a billion names in the world. How lucky do you think she is?’ Gabby all but squealed, pulling out into the suburban street. ‘How could she possibly know that?’
‘I have no idea, but it’s like magicians – all smoke and mirrors. I’m telling you, she’s a fake and you shouldn’t listen to anything she had to say.’
Gabby sneaked a glance at her sister and saw Pippa’s blue eyes were set, uncompromising. Perhaps Pippa was right and Miss Melba was a fraud. It was a crushing thought, quickly followed by an even worse one. What if none of what she’d been experiencing was real and she was simply hallucinating all of this?
‘Maybe I should get my meds checked,’ she muttered, rubbing her temple.
‘Best idea you’ve had all day,’ Pippa concurred.
But then, she couldn’t have imagined all of this. Krystal had validated so much of what she’d seen.
‘No, wait!’ Gabby thumped the steering wheel in excitement, remembering something the psychic had said. ‘I do know what to do! Melba did give me the answer after all.’
22
‘Why did you send me this?’ Krystal held out the law journal, then took a seat in a heavy chair near the tropical fish.
Trentino Cossa folded his hands together and rested them on his belly. He scratched at his tight steel-grey curls a moment. ‘Your visit the other day …’ He paused, searching for the right words. ‘… Moved me.’
Krystal swallowed the lump that had been lodged in her throat ever since Gabby had told her about the vision of Evan in another woman’s house. A lump formed by emotion so strong she didn’t dare let it out lest it destroy her. How could she reconcile her need to get justice for Evan with her overwhelming desire to throttle him? Did the fact that he’d been having an affair change what they’d had together? Well, yes, because she’d always thought she was different, special enough for him to turn away from his stiff, chilly family and choose a life of colour with her. But she hadn’t been enough after all. He’d still wanted something else, something more.
‘When that journal arrived, it seemed like a sign of some sort,’ Trentino said, shaking his head a little at the absurd notion.
‘A sign?’
‘I still don’t think there’s any way we can help you right now, let me be clear on that. But it irked me to read Ms Arthur expounding about how the family had decided to donate his organs, conveniently ignoring your existence at the same time. I don’t like it when lawyers go rogue,’ he said, distaste dripping from his words.
Despite herself, Krystal smiled.
‘Gives us all a bad name,’ Trentino said, frowning behind his thick-rimmed glasses. ‘In general, people think badly of lawyers.’ He sniffed. ‘But some of us do what we do because we are driven to serve. I admired your husband. I’d like to help you, if I can.’
Krystal held his gaze, waiting, considering that she had also harboured disparaging thoughts about lawyers and the only reason she’d come to see him was because she thought she needed someone just as tough and brassbound as the Arthurs. Trentino gave off a stern but fair, fatherly vibe, and she couldn’t help but like him.
‘So.’ Trentino sat up straight and folded his hands together once more, this time twirling his thumbs around each other in a thinking gesture. ‘Where does this leave us?’
‘I have no idea,’ she admitted, and smiled, because oddly she felt a tiny bit better.
‘Time,’ Trentino said. ‘I usually find that people give up all their secrets, given enough time. Ms Arthur abused her power with you that night. One day, that will come back to haunt her. When it does, come see me.’ He stood and held out his hand for Krystal to shake. ‘Stay in touch, okay?’
‘I will. Thanks.’
He nodded at her confidently and Krystal turned to leave, tucking the law journal back into her bag. She had no real idea what had just happened, but nonetheless she felt better knowing there was one more person in the world who was on her side.
As it was Friday, her day off, and she still had a couple of hours before she had to pick up the kids, Krystal walked a short distance from Trentino’s office to hop on a tram to take herself for a fancy tea at the Hopetoun Tea Rooms in the lavish Block Arcade in Collins Street. The tearoom had a permanent line outside behind a rope barricade, which gave Krystal plenty of time to soak in the atmosphere.
Both the arcade and the tearooms dated back to the late 1800s, and were designed in a French Renaissance style. Tall pillars, arches, skylights, stained-glass windows, and that floor! The full width of the arcade floor was made up of intricate floral mosaics, so precious that they were covered with carpet during the Second World War so that soldiers’ boots didn’t damage them. All around her were the warm colours of burnt orange, chocolate brown, charcoal and cream. Just standing here was therapy in itself.
To her right the shop’s exterior, dark stained wood with black signs and gold lettering, framed a sensuously lit window display of the most gorgeous cakes and pastries on crystal platters. A pyramid of coloured macarons. Strawberry tarts dusted with icing sugar. Fluffy cream-filled sponges covered in edible pink petals. Hummingbird cake. Coffee rolls. Thick, creamy cheesecakes. Her eyes took them all in, and she had no idea which one to treat herself with because they all looked so enticing. On the other side of the display she could see patrons sitting in plush chairs, with gilded mirrors on the walls, silver high tea stands and delicate teacups in front of them.
The line moved steadily but still her mouth was watering by the time she was seated at a table next to the heritage green and gold wallpaper on the back wall. She ordered the now famous lemon and elderflower sponge cake – inspired by Harry and Meghan’s royal wedding – and a pot of English breakfast tea. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d taken time out like this on her own, to enjoy something so special and delicate.
Her cake arrived, four layers of sponge with cream, topped with a spray of yellow and white flowers, and she’d just poured her tea and picked up her fork to have her first mouthful when her phone rang. Her dreamy, pleasure-filled state vanished immediately. She couldn’t ignore it – knowing it could be the school or day care centre to tell her one of her kids was sick or injured – so she braced herself and fished around in her bag to find it.
It was Gabby.
She momentarily considered letting it go to voicemail, aching to hold onto the peace she’d just found here in the tearoom, but at the last moment she answered it.
‘Hello?’
‘Hi, Krystal, it’s Gabby.’
‘Hi.’
‘Do you have a moment to talk?’ Gabby sounded as though she was at The Tin Man. Krystal could hear a man calling out orders to go and music in the background.
‘Yeah, okay,’ she said, her appetite for this gorgeous cake already fading as she wondered what devastating new piece of information Gabby might have for her.
‘Great. Look, I know this will sound a bit out there …’ Gabby said, then snorted. ‘But then again, I think we’ve already passed “out there”, haven’t we?’
‘Yes, probably.’
‘Right, well, I wanted to try to get more information for you.’
Krystal’s insides swirled. Here it came …
‘So, I went to see a psychic.’
‘Oh.’ She wasn’t expecting that.
‘And she knew Evan’s name.’ Gabby spoke quickly, either nervous or excited. ‘Which was pretty amazing, and makes me think she knew what she was doing and, anyway, she said somet
hing that made me think.’
‘What did she say?’
‘Well, she couldn’t get much out of Evan, but she said that he said that you and I needed to “take this journey together”.’
‘What does that mean?’ Krystal looked sadly at her cake, wishing she’d had the time to enjoy it before this conversation.
‘That’s why I’m calling.’ Gabby took a deep breath. ‘I think we need to go to Sydney, together, to see if we can unlock some more of Evan’s memories to get the answers you need.’
Krystal’s mouth fell open. She hadn’t been to Sydney since Evan died. There was a long silence, which Gabby eventually broke. ‘Krystal? What do you think?’
‘Um … let me think about it. I’ll get back to you.’
Krystal disconnected the call and sat perfectly still, staring at the swirly wallpaper beside her. Someone had taken a gold marker and written across a gilt-framed mirror: Where there’s Tea there’s Hope.
Was it a sign, like Trentino had said?
There was a pot of tea in front of her. Gabby had phoned with an opportunity. Although it made her feel sick and shaky, not having a clue what, if anything, they would find in Sydney, she knew she had to do it. She messaged Gabby.
Okay, we can go. When?
How about Monday afternoon? We can visit the street where Evan was hit by the car that night. Sorry, I know it’s probably not something you want to do. But I really want to help you and I think this is the best way.
Gabby was right: the thought of walking that street filled Krystal with dread. But she needed to be strong. She needed to know what he was doing there that night. For better or worse, she had to know.
Okay.
‘Want a piece?’ Gabby asked, settling herself in the aisle seat next to Krystal while the flight attendants checked that everyone had their belts buckled and their bags stowed.
Krystal looked at the packet of chewing gum Gabby held between her thumb and forefinger. ‘Is that … is this some sort of Evan thing?’ she asked tentatively.
‘What?’ Gabby looked at the chewing gum, confused.
‘That’s my favourite brand, that’s all,’ Krystal said, and reached up to direct the air vent onto her face to cool herself.
‘Oh.’ Gabby frowned. ‘No, it’s just a post-lunch thing. I carry it with me all the time. Dental hygiene’s really important after you’ve had a transplant – all that bacteria in your mouth is apparently quite dangerous.’
‘Sorry. I’m a bit wired, heading to Sydney, leaving the boys with Roxy overnight, having to call in sick tomorrow.’
Gabby put the gum in her mouth and began to chew. ‘I hear you,’ she said. ‘My kids are a bit vulnerable right now too.’
They paused in their discussion to watch the safety demonstration as the plane rolled across the tarmac, heading for the runway. When the demonstration had finished, Krystal spoke again, turning her body away from the man in the window seat on her other side. ‘What do you mean, vulnerable?’
Gabby pulled the hairband from the nape of her neck and used her fingers to untangle her curls, draping them over her left shoulder. ‘My ex-husband has decided he wants a break from them,’ she said, clearly disgusted.
‘What does that mean?’
‘I have no idea. They’ve been a bit mopey and reactive, understandably. I’m most worried about my eldest, Charlie. He just turned sixteen and seems to have taken Cam’s rejection particularly personally.’
Krystal clucked sympathetically. ‘Boys need their dads,’ she said, thinking of her own kids.
‘He has a mobile phone now, and I sneaked a look at his call list and found several calls in a row to Cam’s mobile. Cam didn’t even answer them.’ Gabby shook her head sadly. ‘Almost broke my heart,’ she said, then winced. ‘Sorry, that’s such a clichéd statement, and one that’s especially awkward when you’ve had a heart transplant. Even more so when you’re sitting next to the woman who gave you that heart.’
Krystal manoeuvred her legs in the tight space to cross one over the other, further distancing herself from the man at the window. ‘It’s okay, really. I’m sure I’m as freaked out about this as you are.’
The plane manoeuvred itself to point straight down the runway.
‘We’d make a great headline for a trashy magazine,’ Gabby said. ‘The Women Who Shared One Man’s Heart!’
‘The Other Woman: Life After Death.’ Krystal shuddered at her attempt at a joke. It was the first thing out of her mouth but it cut a bit close to the bone. Thankfully, Gabby didn’t seem to notice.
The plane began to rattle, accelerating along the runway, forcing them back in their seats.
‘Saved by a Married Man!’ Gabby said, waving her hand in an arc through the air as though conjuring up the title.
Krystal smiled and nodded but said no more, taking advantage of the natural moment to cease conversation as the plane roared and ascended into the air. Instead she racked up the facts silently in her mind.
My husband speaks from beyond the grave. My husband’s sister forced me to cut out my husband’s heart.
Didn’t she?
My final betrayal.
They landed in Sydney at three o’clock in the afternoon, the sky blue with genteel puffs of cotton-ball clouds lazing about. Sydney was a few degrees warmer than Melbourne, and the brightness of the day shimmered around them as their cab whizzed them into the city, easing Krystal’s nerves. They hailed one of the special black cabs, just like the ones in London, and directed the driver to take them over the Harbour Bridge. They gazed out at the magnificent blue of the harbour, white sails of boats bobbing about and the view of the Opera House extending out over the water. A huge cruise liner was stationed under the bridge, glittering and festive, a small nation on the water.
‘Here, I want to show you my kids,’ Gabby said, pulling out her phone and tapping at the screen. ‘I want you to see them, because your choice to give me Evan’s heart didn’t just save me, it saved all of them too.’
Krystal closed her eyes for a moment, steadying herself, feeling deeply ashamed of the secret between her and Gabby.
‘I took these on the weekend,’ Gabby said happily. ‘This is Celia, she’s my youngest, only ten.’
A pretty girl sat on the grass, her arms around her knees, and smiled into the camera, all teeth and shining eyes in the sunlight.
‘She’s gorgeous,’ Krystal said.
Gabby swiped the screen. ‘And this is Charlie, he’s sixteen.’ A tall boy with bright red hair and striking freckles pulled an embarrassed photo face, reclining in a wooden outdoor chair, a coffee cup in his hand. ‘He’s got a real thing for coffee.’ Krystal could hear the pride in her voice.
‘And who’s that? Is that …’ She trailed off, remembering the first time they’d met.
‘Luciano. Yes, you met him the day you tried to talk to me at the cafe. He’s my coffee roaster.’ Gabby’s tone betrayed her affection for him.
‘Are you two – together?’
‘No,’ Gabby said, a bit too quickly. ‘Just … I don’t know. Maybe one day?’ She lifted a shoulder and let it drop.
‘Look at you,’ Krystal teased, glad to have sidestepped past the fact that he’d escorted her out of the cafe. ‘You’ve gone all red.’
Gabby blushed further and put a hand to her cheek. ‘It’s very early days. I’m trying not to get my hopes up.’
Krystal wanted to ask her why not, but then remembered that they weren’t really friends and probably never would be. She’d always find it difficult to be in Gabby’s presence, knowing that if she’d got what she wanted back there in the ICU, Gabby most likely wouldn’t even be alive today.
‘And this is Summer, my middle child. She’s thirteen and still lovely and happy, though I’m expecting that to change at any moment.’
Krystal smiled. Seeing those kids, knowing that they wouldn’t have their mother right now if Krystal hadn’t done what she did, despite not wanting to, shifted something in her. Sh
e felt real happiness for them. Relief. Maybe one day all the horror inside her would transform and grow into something peaceful.
Gabby kept swiping, looking for more good photos. ‘Oh, and that’s our dog, Sally. You met her, of course.’
‘And are they your kids too?’ Krystal asked, pointing to two other girls and a young boy.
‘No, they’re Luciano’s kids. Cooper is desperate for a dog. That’s why they came over, so he could meet Sally.’ Gabby swiped again to show Krystal a photo of the cherubic child with blond hair and blue eyes, with his arms wrapped around Sally as she sat beside him.
‘Adorable.’ Krystal wondered again if she should move her boys out of the city. Maybe they could have a dog too.
Gabby’s phone sprang to life in her hand and she took the call. Krystal turned to look out at the view, wishing the cab would slow just a touch so she could take it in properly, and tried not to listen, though it was impossible not to overhear with Gabby sitting an arm’s length away.
‘Hi,’ Gabby said warmly. ‘What’s Grandpa making you for dinner?’
It must have been one of her kids.
‘Oh, isn’t he feeling well?’ Gabby’s tone changed to one of concern. ‘Oh! That’s no good … Okay, give Grandpa a kiss for me. Have fun. Ask Summer to call me when she’s home. And Charlie too! Okay, bye, baby.’
‘Everything okay?’ Krystal asked.
‘That was Celia. She likes to chat and tell me about her day. My father’s looking after them tonight but apparently he was at work today – he does some shifts at the local RSL behind the bar – and dropped a glass and cut his hand.’
‘Did he need stitches?’ The traffic had slowed now and looming office buildings shadowed their passage through the northern suburbs.
‘No, apparently not, but he’s not cooking tonight so they’re having a frozen lasagne.’
The Gift of Life Page 21
