Dirty Weekend (17 page)

‘I did, and it’s true!’

‘Then why do you continue to make choices that keep you so busy? So that you have no time for me? For us?’ The distress in her voice cut me.

‘Iona, please. Once these two cases have been wrapped—’

‘I don’t know what to say, Jack. I don’t know how else to put it so that you can
hear
it—hear what I’m saying. We continue to come to this place in our conversations. Over and over I hear myself saying the same things. You too.’

Even while she was talking, I was looking around, making sure I had everything necessary, money, keys, wallet.

‘You’re not even listening now, are you? You’ve already gone.’

‘Iona, I—’

‘I don’t want to hear it, Jack. Just go.’ She turned away from me and went to the window, staring out into the night, breathing hard as she contained her anger.

‘I’ll be back as soon as I can.’

She didn’t move. Nor did she speak as I left the room. I called a ‘goodbye’ to the group and hurried outside to the car.

Concentrating on the drive to Braddon was difficult. I felt torn in two and the knowledge that I’d left Iona hurt and disappointed was hard for me to live with. Yet it was essential that I honour my duty to the murdered scientist Claire Dimitriou. The sense that I owed her my time and my talents seemed overwhelming and, for a moment, I caught myself wondering why this was so. The things Iona had said to me, I’d heard from another woman, my ex-wife. I’d heard the same complaints from Annette Sommers about Peter Yu. As far as I knew, no one else on the staff, except perhaps the grim little palynologist, seemed to take on the sort of extra workload that I did. Why did I behave like this? Especially now, when I had so much to lose? Iona’s questions blazed in my mind and, somewhere, I knew they were legitimate and demanded answers. The thought of Iona changing her mind about me and going back to Sydney filled me with anguish and yet here I was, walking out on a festive dinner she’d been looking forward to so much, one that I’d
promised
her. What was going on here?
In
here, I thought. In me?

There were plenty of car spaces in the gracious grounds of Olims but I parked my wagon across the road from it, just in case. I glanced at my watch. It was just past nine-thirty.

Blood pounded in my ears and again I had to remind myself that I was attending to business, gathering essential intelligence and not meeting a woman for an illicit assignation. For a second, I wondered what the hell I was doing, visiting a stranger in a hotel instead of being with Iona, but after sussing out that Suite 12 was on the second floor, I nodded to the receptionist as if I owned the place and hurried upstairs.

I had to walk the length of the hall before I came to the room. I knocked and waited, heart pumping hard. Nothing. Maybe, after all this, I’d been stood up. This was a double blind date after all. But, faintly, I could hear music coming from behind the door and with it a subtle fragrance, the sort that Jacinta sometimes liked around her—floral essences in an oil-burner. I knocked again and this time I heard a woman’s voice. ‘It’s not locked. Come in.’

Maybe she was in bed already. This thought gave me a shock because I’d assumed there’d be a getting-to-know-you chat first. And in that chat, I’d hoped to gain further knowledge of the workings of the group. If she was in bed, there were two ways I could go. Either risk humiliating her and getting her badly offside by saying I had a bad cold—true enough—and suggesting she get dressed so we could talk. Or climb in with her and hope we could talk before. That way, I could claim a headache. Yeah, right, Jack, I heard myself say. Who was I kidding? But that would mean crossing a boundary. It was the sort of dangerous engagement that could throw a future prosecution right out the window.

‘Don’t be shy. It’s okay,’ she repeated through the closed door. ‘Come in. ’

I should have walked away right then. But I didn’t. Instead, I opened the door and went in. Then I stood still. Staring.

If only she
had
been in bed.

What I saw shot straight to my brain, activating nerve paths long hidden under civilised niceties, flash-flooding circuitry with energy. I stood transfixed, unable to move, to speak. Immobilised by the sight of her magnificent, naked arse raised high in the air, exposing her Brazilian; the rosy slit and, above it, the cute brown button of her anus. It was all I could do to stand my ground. My body was powered by an almost unbearable urge to leap on top of the crouching woman on the bed and screw the arse off her.

Then came her low laugh as she twisted her head round to see me, peering past her raised haunches. Our eyes locked and I recognised her. As I did, the sexual energy stiffening my cock, increasing my heart rate, started to drop away. Reason screamed: this is impossible. Get out. Now.

I backed away and felt for the door behind me, watching her as she slowly lowered her body, rolling over to face me, fair hair draping her naked shoulders, pink nipples jiggling on her breasts, the smile on her lips fading.

‘Not staying to play, Dr Jack?’ she whispered, her voice mocking.

I grabbed the door and wrenched it open, stepping outside, blinded with shock and lust, almost tripping on the stairs. I walked back to my car as fast as I could while trying to maintain some dignity. I scrambled in, heart racing, slammed the door, sat in the dark, getting my breath and my balance. Realigning myself.

Not till then did I realise I was shaking all over.

In a few moments, I was steady enough to drive. I somehow managed to get back to the cottage on autopilot. I didn’t see the road; my mind was filled with the primal vision I’d just witnessed.

When I pulled up outside the cottage, I sat there a moment. I couldn’t go inside like this so I got out of the car and walked around a bit, recalling now the fight with Iona, looking up at the icy stars, shivering.

It was after ten thirty when I quietly opened the front door and crept past the closed door of our bedroom, going through to the lounge room where warm firelight flickered and Charlie sat, listening to some orchestral piece on the radio and working on his laptop.

I went straight through to the bathroom, calling out something vague to Charlie’s enquiries, and had a shower. Eventually, the shaking in my legs subsided and I got out.

Charlie looked up from closing the lid of his laptop.

‘You came in fast, bro. On the run?’

I muttered something. ‘Is Iona in bed?’

‘Yes,’ he said.

‘Where are the kids?’

Charlie looked at his watch. ‘Jacinta should be back any time now.’

‘She’s got to get away from that guy,’ I said, relieved to be talking about Shaz and not myself. ‘He sounds like a real mongrel. Maybe the dinner conversation will give her a different perspective. Even though Jacinta was pissed off with me. Shaz must get out of that scene.’

‘She’s not ready to leave him yet,’ said Charlie. ‘Like the poet said, human beings can only bear so much reality.’

I removed the cuddling lemurs from the chair and sat opposite him, waiting for my brain and body to resume their normal settings.

‘I gave Shaz my card when she was leaving,’ said Charlie. ‘Told her I’d be happy to see her on discount rates if she wanted to sort something out. It helps to talk about it with an objective stranger.’

‘The girl’s in big trouble,’ I said.

‘So are you, bro.’

I was suddenly exhausted with it all, the shock of Olims, the way things were between Iona and me.

‘Yes, I am,’ I admitted.

‘I’m having a drink. Want some fruit juice?’ Charlie asked.

I shook my head and Charlie poured himself a brandy. Lurching into the kitchen, still feeling shocked and shaken, I tried to remember how to make coffee.

‘You better tell me what’s going on,’ Charlie called.

‘Hell, Charlie, I wish I knew,’ I said as I came back into the living room with my hot drink.

‘You look a little better than when you first arrived,’ he said, leaning back in the old armchair. Outside, a forlorn calf wailed in the distance, emphasising my silence in the face of my brother’s intense scrutiny.

‘You want to talk about it?’ Charlie asked.

‘Not really.’

Charlie settled back even further in his chair, put his drink down and comfortably crossed his legs and arms. ‘I think you’d better,’ he said.

‘I don’t quite know where to begin,’ I said, after a long silence.

‘You could begin with the problem that’s developing between Iona and you,’ he suggested.

‘But something else just happened—’

‘Let’s take them one at a time? First, what do
you
think the problem is?’

I cast about, trying to find a concise definition. ‘Iona thinks that I’m on the run from her—that I avoid time with her by working too hard,’ I blurted out eventually. ‘She says I keep taking on responsibilities that aren’t really mine.’

‘And is it a fair comment?’

I considered. ‘Maybe that’s what it looks like to someone else,’ I said finally. ‘The way I see it is different. I’d never thought about it until you mentioned it and she started complaining about it. It was just what I
did.
But now, I’ve had to examine why it is, and it’s because I feel deeply
obligated
to do whatever is in my power to help the dead. This might sound peculiar but that’s the feeling—that I have a duty, that I owe it to these victims.’

Charlie nodded. ‘At least you’ve got an idea of what’s driving you.’

‘
Motivating
me,’ I corrected.

‘You prefer that word?’ Charlie asked, raising one of his dark eyebrows.

‘“Driving” makes it sound like I’m not in control of the process,’ I said.

‘That’s right,’ said Charlie. ‘That’s why I used it.’

‘What do you mean?’ I asked, irritated.

‘And this behaviour of yours is hurting Iona,’ said Charlie, ignoring my question.

I stood up and walked around the room, restless and angry. ‘What am I supposed to do, Charlie?’

‘What is it you want, Jack?’

‘You know that. I want Iona. I want to live with her and make a good life together.’

‘And how exactly are you going to do that? What action are you going to take? What plans are in place for that to happen?’

‘Well, I asked her to come and live here,’ I said.

‘And?’ Charlie prompted.

‘And what? She got a job in the first month. She said she was happy living here. She goes to Sydney once or twice a month to catch up with friends and an old uncle.’

‘So Iona’s obviously made plans to live here with you but I was asking what
you’re
doing,’ said Charlie.

‘It shits me when you go sphinx-like,’ I said. ‘Going on with questions like this. I’m asking you for your help, not a bloody interrogation!’

‘Jack, you’ve got to know what you want and how to get it before you can achieve anything.’

‘I know that,’ I said.

‘I don’t think you do—not when it comes to relationships. You know it in your work life very well.’

‘What am I supposed to do?’ I said, capitulating. ‘Give me a hand.’

‘Think about it for a while,’ said Charlie. ‘But not for too long. I’ve got a feeling Iona has had enough of you—or rather, she’s had enough of not having enough of you, if you get my drift.’

‘She says I shut her out,’ I said.

‘And do you?’

I poked the fire and found a good-sized log to put on for the night, then raked the coals around it, watching the flickering tongues of flame emerge underneath and wrap around the wood.

‘I suppose I do. I never seem to have the sort of unhurried time for pottering around that Iona wants.’

‘That would be too dangerous,’ said Charlie.

‘What do you mean?’ I asked, irritated by his remark and knowing exactly what he was doing.

‘Just what I’m saying. You don’t want to open up to her so you keep busy. That way, the moment never comes. You should ask yourself one day why it is you’re so scared of opening up to a woman.’

I’d had enough of this conversation. ‘Something happened. Just a while ago,’ I began.

We both turned as we heard the front door being unlocked and Jacinta’s footsteps coming down the hall. She threw herself on the old lounge, pulling a knitted scarf from around her shoulders and flinging it wildly behind her. ‘Shaz is crazy! I did everything I could to persuade her but she said she had to get back. That means to
him.
It’s like she’s under some evil spell.’

‘Jazza, she’s not ready to leave him,’ Charlie repeated. ‘It’ll take time. But let’s hope this evening we’ve started a process with that discussion—even though she found it so confronting. There could be a very good outcome a little further down the track.’

‘You sound like a clinical psych,’ she said. Charlie shrugged and I could see Jacinta’s feathers settling down again.

Finally, she stood up and kissed Charlie then me goodnight. ‘Dad, I think I overreacted earlier. Shaz
should
hear other people’s experience and ideas.’

‘How else do we learn to change?’ I said.

‘You tell him, Jass,’ said Charlie. ‘I’ve been trying to influence your father and getting nowhere.’

Jacinta rolled her eyes in a way reminiscent of Genevieve’s mad-horse look. ‘It’s an impossible job,’ she said. ‘I’ve been trying for years.’

‘Hey,’ I protested. ‘What is this? Get Jack week?’

‘Dad. I know it’s none of my business and you two have to sort things out, but I really like Iona. She’s a terrific woman. I was really sad at what happened tonight.’

‘I’m sorry, Jass. I’m not so good at some things.’

‘You look sick or something,’ she said, staring closer. ‘You okay?’

‘Sure I am. Go to bed.’

She gave me another concerned look, picked up the lemurs, draping them over her shoulders, and went to her room.

‘Okay,’ said Charlie, when he heard the sound of the spare bedroom door closing. ‘Where were we?’

I took another deep breath and told him about the partner-swapping sex group, the colour and numerical codes favoured by the group and, finally, my own trip to Olim’s to meet Blue as I tried to gather intelligence on the group. I stopped for a moment at the point where I’d opened the door of Suite 12, my mind filled again with the overwhelming vision of complete sexual availability.

‘Go on,’ Charlie prompted.

I cleared my throat, then continued, describing exactly what I’d encountered there, right down to the golden stubble surrounding Sofia Verstoek’s Brazilian.

‘That sure would break the ice!’ Charlie leaned forward. ‘Great way to meet. So?’

‘So, what?’ I asked.

‘So what did you do?’

‘What do you think I did? I backed right out of there, fast as I could.’

There was a silence.

‘Spoilsport,’ Charlie said after a long silence.

‘For Christ’s sake, Charlie, she’s a colleague!
And
a subordinate.’

‘So? From what you’ve just told me, no one else seems to have worried about that sort of nicety. I didn’t think that sort of thing mattered any more.’

‘Bloody oath it does,’ I said. ‘To me, anyway. Not to mention the fact that I’m deeply involved with a woman—’