by Diane Wood
Samantha was still shy with her when she arrived on Sunday morning, but Jeremy wrapped his warm, soft arms around her neck and gave her a huge cuddle that made her want to hold him forever. Mother glared silently for a moment before dismissing the children to their area.
“Hard work chasing criminals is it, my dear?” Mother said sarcastically as Nathalie bent to kiss her on the cheek. “You’re really looking your age.”
“Thank you, Mother,” she replied. “I’ll try to take better care of myself.”
“Good, because we’re going to a party tonight, and I want you looking your best. I have a couple of women friends who want to try something different—an all-girl party. They want someone with experience.”
“I’m not one of your prostitutes anymore,” she retaliated quickly. “You’ll have to use one of George’s girls.”
Standing up and moving toward her, Charlotte growled, “You need this family, Nathalie Duncan, but to be part of it you need to contribute to it. So you’ll do what’s expected and you’ll do it well.”
“And if I don’t?”
“Then you’ll disappoint me,” she said, straightening to full height and reaching to touch Nat’s face. “And I’ll have to start worrying all over again about exactly what you and that Martin bitch were concocting behind my back.”
Pulling her face away, Nathalie said, “Are you threatening me, Mother?”
“Oh no, my child,” she said, moving even closer. “But it would be a shame if the woman you were fucking so lovingly should find out that you’re Charlotte Silver’s daughter…the same one who seduced her sister.”
“You really do hate me, don’t you?” she asked quietly, feeling small and helpless.
“Oh, I don’t hate you, Nathalie,” she said softly, leaning in again, grabbing her face and kissing her on the lips. “I don’t know why you’d think that.”
The rest of the day was spent with the children building sandcastles in the huge sandpit George had established in the back garden and having make-believe afternoon tea with Samantha at a tiny table she barely fitted into. Nathalie loved how patient Jeremy was with his little sister, who endlessly bossed him around. They were affectionate, open and happy children, and once again it occurred to Nathalie that despite everything, George was obviously a good father.
It wasn’t until dinner that Nathalie saw George, and then it was noticeable that there was an underlying tension between him and Mother. That night, before going out, she tucked Samantha into her bed.
“You smell nice, like my mummy,” she said innocently when Nathalie gave her a kiss goodnight. “But Mummy doesn’t come home anymore,” she finished sadly.
“She will one day, darling,” replied Nat, holding her tiny hand in her own. “And I bet she’s thinking of you every single day.”
“I might draw Mummy another picture,” she mumbled sleepily. “Daddy takes my pictures to Mummy, but he said I couldn’t tell anyone.” Then she was asleep and Nathalie was staring blankly at her. So George was either lying to the child or he did have contact with her mother in prison. Turning to leave the room, she saw George watching from the doorway.
“So you visit her mother in prison,” she whispered as she pulled the door over. “I assume Mother doesn’t know?”
Looking over his shoulder, he whispered back, “Susan’s a good woman and Samantha’s her life. I told her to refuse Mother’s visit request, and I pretended I didn’t have access either. That way I had an excuse not to take the children to America.”
“How long is she in prison for?”
“She’s got another three months to do.”
“Is she a junkie?”
“No. That’s what I told Mother. Sue was involved in embezzlement at the bank where she worked. She didn’t do it, but she covered it up.”
“You sound like you’re very fond of her?”
“It didn’t work out between us, because of what I do I guess. She’s twenty-six and intelligent and kind, and she’s never been involved with the business. When I wouldn’t give it up, she finished with me.”
“So it’s not the grandmother who lets you have Samantha, it’s her mother?”
“Yes. She won’t give me custody while I run Mother’s businesses, but she wants Sam to know Jeremy and she really doesn’t restrict my access to Samantha at all.”
“These children had better be safe while Mother’s here,” Nathalie murmured. “And you’d better sort out how you’re going to tell her that they won’t be going with you to America.”
“I’m already doing that, Nat,” he said tiredly. “I’ve told Susan to apply to the court to cut my access and I won’t fight it. I’m providing her with a lawyer who will tell the court that Sam is in danger of being taken out of the country on false documentation.”
“Then you won’t be able to see her at all.”
“Maybe that’s best…at least while Mother’s here.”
“And Jeremy—how will you stop Mother’s claim on him?”
“Claire’s going to do the same. They should lodge their applications next week. It won’t matter what false documentation Mother comes up with, the custody orders will take precedence, the children’s photos will be on the system, and Customs and Immigration will be notified.”
“God, George, I’m so sorry.”
“It’s not forever. Mother will have to go home soon, her business is over there now, and then there’s her dogs, she’s always talking about how much she misses them. When she’s gone I can get you to help me reverse the custody orders.”
Reaching up, she kissed him gently on the cheek. “Thank you, George,” she said quietly. “Thank you for taking a stand.”
The party was in a discreet and luxurious apartment, and the women were beautifully turned-out society hostesses in their forties. Both were married to prominent businessmen and looking for something to spice up their lives. There was alcohol and drugs, flirting and dancing and eventually bed, but not together. Strangely enough, when it came time to go beyond the kissing and petting, they wanted individual attention. Afterward they appeared ill at ease and desperate to get Nathalie out of the apartment. This suited her well.
On Monday she and George took the children to the movies and then to the kids’ gymnasium. George didn’t mention the previous night or ask Nathalie where Mother had sent her, but it was obvious he was aware of what she’d been ordered to do. While they both knew the situation couldn’t remain as it was, neither seemed to have the power to change it.
“I want to know what’s in the journal,” Nathalie demanded as they sat watching the children play.
“It’s about things she did years ago—people she hurt. It’s hideous. It’s almost as if she’s bragging about them.”
“What sort of things? Give me an example.”
“No, Nat. I told you, I don’t want to do that. You were only about four or five at the time. She’s changed since then. I should have destroyed it, but—”
“But you thought you might need it one day. And now you do.”
“I can’t use it against her, Nat. She’s my mother.”
The children arrived back then, puffing and loud and full of laughter. It took Samantha only two minutes strapped into her car seat to fall asleep, a cloth doll she’d won at the gymnasium clutched in her hand.
* * *
Mother insisted Nat stay for tea. Nathalie desperately wanted to ask her when she was returning to America, but she knew Mother would take it as an insult and didn’t have the energy to enter into another battle with her.
By the time she got home, Nathalie was exhausted.
Later, after a hot shower, she was surprised by the doorbell and stunned to find Ari on her doorstep.
“What do you want, Ari…” she began, “we really don’t—”
But he barged past her and was in the lounge. “Shut the door, Nathalie,” he demanded, making no move to leave. “And my name’s Michael. Ari hasn’t existed since I was sixteen.”
&nb
sp; His presence was imposing.
Closing the door, she said, “You’re wasting your time. I don’t have anything to say.”
“Oh yes, you do,” he responded coldly. “I told you I’d come after you if you hurt Alex and right now she’s hurting very badly.”
“I’m sorry,” she mumbled. “I never wanted to hurt her, but it has nothing to do with you.”
“Sit down,” he instructed. “You actually look worse than Alex.” Then, noticing the blanket and cushion left on the lounge from Friday night, he said, “Still having the nightmares, Nathalie?”
“What do you mean I look worse than Alex?” she asked, ignoring his last comment. “What’s wrong with Alex?”
“You mean apart from having her heart ripped out?”
No answer was expected, so he continued. “Someone trashed her house on Friday,” he stated frostily, watching her reaction. “And I think they were looking for something specific.”
What little color she had in her face drained away and burning anger flooded her eyes. “Are you suggesting it was me?” she asked.
“I don’t know, Nathalie. You tell me?”
“Get out,” she spat, standing up. “I wouldn’t do anything to harm Alex. You know nothing about me.”
“Sit down,” he commanded. “I know everything about you, and I’m not going anywhere until I get some answers. I couldn’t care less about you, but James and I love Alex, and I know that there’s more to this than you’re telling her. Somehow your family is involved.”
“Really?” she said angrily, dropping slowly into a chair. “You think you know a lot, don’t you? But did you know that Alex Messner is Christine Martin’s sister?”
“What…no…don’t be ridiculous,” he stuttered in shock, sitting on the edge of the seat opposite. Then, seeing the look on Nathalie’s face, “God, you’re serious.” Then when she said nothing, “I had no idea. We met her and Lou at the HIV/AIDS Clinic when they were volunteering there. I’ve never spoken about my past. I knew she had a sister who overdosed, but she never talks about it.”
“Did you meet Christine Martin?”
“Yes, she and George lived at the flat. I remember she had a pretty heavy heroin habit, but I only knew her for a few months before she died.”
“Who seduced you into the family?” Nat asked dully.
“Why?”
“Who was it?” she demanded.
“George, Christine…your mother.”
“Well, it was me who brought Christine Martin into Mother’s web. We met at school and I seduced her and handed her over to Mother and George. Four years later she was dead. Do you still think I should continue seeing Alex?”
Shaking his head, as if trying to wake from a dream, he got up to pace the room. “Did you know who Alex was when you started seeing her?”
“Sure. I just thought it would be fun to fall in love with someone who would end up hating the sight of me.” Her eyes were hard and her face full of pain.
“So, how did you find out?”
“When we had afternoon tea at her mother’s—I saw the photo of Alex’s sister and found out the stepfather’s name was Martin.”
“Jesus,” he gasped. “What a fucking mess. I need a drink.”
They both had one.
His heart went out to this woman now. Nothing in his life could match the pain of what her youth was going to cost her. He’d been able to put his past behind him and move on, and it had only been a few years out of his life. But knowing Charlotte Silver and having listened to George speak of their past, he knew that Nathalie’s horror had begun when she was a small child. It would have been all she’d known. Yet she’d managed to leave it behind, only to find it irrevocably interwoven with the present.
“How did you get involved with my family?” she asked finally.
“I met George at a youth center when I was thirteen. I was confused about my sexuality and I wasn’t getting on with my father. I hated the world. George took me home to the flat, and from there he introduced me to a lifestyle beyond my imagination. Then I met Charlotte. She took a fancy to me and basically bought me anything I wanted. Of course there was a price, but even then it seemed like fun.”
“So why did you leave?”
For a moment she thought he wasn’t going to answer.
“I wanted George, but I didn’t want the rest of it. I guess maybe I was starting to grow up.”
“And she just let you go?”
“I left when she was in America on business. I went home and my father sent me out of the state to a boarding school in Victoria. Then I went on to university.”
For an age they sat staring into their drinks.
Finally, Michael said, “Alex is convinced there’s more to you dumping her, and she’s talking about trying to find out what.”
“Then you have to stop her…discourage her. She can’t ever know.”
Shaking his head, he said, “I doubt she’d ever simply stumble onto your connection with her sister. My concern is that while she doesn’t let go, she doesn’t move on.”
“Then you have to make her.”
Again the silence until Nathalie finally asked, “What happened at her house? What was stolen?”
“Only jewelry, the DVD player and laptop, but the place was ransacked as if they were looking for something particular. Her top-of-the-range entertainment system was left, as was the iPad, desktop computer and an expensive leather jacket. It didn’t make sense.”
The anger was building, but she couldn’t let Michael know that she thought her family might have been involved. That would only compound the harm and make Michael angrier.
“You know, you do look awful, Nathalie,” he said finally, rising to leave. “You really do love her, don’t you?”
The pain in her eyes answered his question, but she nodded. “She has to believe that I don’t care. Please help her to find someone else.”
“You know, it’s been two years since Lou died, and it’s taken her all that time to even date again. When Alex loves, she doesn’t do it lightly.”
“She was with Lou ten years, she was with me a matter of weeks,” Nathalie said sadly. “It’s not the same.”
Pulling a business card from his jacket pocket and handing it to her, he said, “Use that if you need it. It’s got my mobile number on it. James doesn’t know I’m here, but I’ll tell him I came to confront you about dumping Alex. I’ll tell him that you’ve got someone else. Eventually, if Alex insists on continuing to try and find out what went wrong, that’s what I’ll tell her.” He saw her wince, but she covered it quickly and nodded her agreement.
“How did you get my address?” she asked as he exited the flat.
“I went through Alex’s handbag when I was at her house. She’s old-fashioned enough to carry an address book,” he said with a shrug.
After he left, Nathalie took a sleeping pill and, leaving all the lights on, headed straight to bed. Without doubt, George or Mother knew something about the break-in at Alex’s flat, but she couldn’t do anything about that now. Without sleep there wasn’t any chance she could survive another week at work. Even without people telling her she looked awful, Nathalie knew she was on the brink of collapse and there were things to be done before she could give in to that.
* * *
Thanks in part to the effort put in by Michael and James, Alex’s house was back to normal by Sunday morning. That afternoon her mother had come over and cooked her favorite meal—the smell of cooking and her mother’s pottering beginning to make the home feel like her own again.
It had been easy to tell Michael and James that she wasn’t going to give in to her misery, but after they left, the emptiness had overwhelmed her. The feelings of loss and devastation she’d experienced when Lou died were rekindled, only this time it wasn’t caused by an act of God and therefore seemed somehow even more difficult to accept.
Something specific had caused Nathalie to pull away, of that she was certain, but no matte
r how often she went over that day, Alex couldn’t come up with anything except the phone call Nathalie had got from her mother. Yet, even though Nat had seemed upset after that call, she’d still been warm and loving. Whatever happened came after that—at her mother’s house.
Over dinner on Sunday, Alex had again asked her mother if she could think of anything unusual that might have happened during afternoon tea. Something she’d missed.
“I honestly can’t think of anything,” she’d answered patiently. “You were there for virtually all of it, except when you went to the bathroom before you left, and then Nathalie and I didn’t really get the chance to talk because I was looking for something for you.”
“The magazines,” Alex reminded her.
“Yes, the magazines.”
“So what was Nat doing during that time? Did she make a call on her mobile or anything like that?”
“Not unless it was very quick. She was just looking around…looking at the photos, that sort of thing.” Sighing, Norma said, “Don’t you think that perhaps you’re clutching at straws, darling. Maybe she just wasn’t the person you thought she was?”
“You’re probably right,” Alex replied with a shake of her head. “But I can’t help feeling that something happened that neither of us is aware of.” Then, embarrassed, “Well, it’s a better explanation than that she just didn’t like your house or my driving or the plans we had for the afternoon…I don’t know…”
“You know, perhaps you have to ask her,” Norma suggested reluctantly. “But if you do confront her, then you’re going to have to be prepared to accept that it might go badly and perhaps Nathalie really just doesn’t want to be with you.”
Chapter Ten
Confessions
Josh looked considerably better when they started back at work, although the bruise on his face was now a mixture of blue and yellow.
The first thing they did was ring the personnel manager at the hotel where the mystery suspect may have been seeking work. Over the past three weeks thirty-five people had filled out job applications. Eighteen were men, leaving a list of seventeen women, only ten of whom were within the age range of the mystery woman from the club. The manager faxed copies of those applications.
