Heller's Girlfriend (26 page)

“Hey, why don’t you guys just
settle down,” said the eye-roller. He was obviously the peacekeeper
in the group.

“Why don’t you just stop
inviting your dickhead brother, who even you admit is a dickhead,
along to our after-match drinks?”

The jerk forgot about me,
dropping my wrist and marching over to Blond-man, poking him in the
chest, rekindling what was clearly an old and festering argument. I
wasn’t sure that was a wise move – Blond-man had height and weight
over him.

But I wasn’t waiting to discover
the outcome. Freed from the jerk, I sprinted around the car,
snatched the tyre lever off the road and flung myself into the
front seat, locking the doors behind me. My hands were shaking so
badly, I couldn’t insert the key. It was so slippery with my sweat
that it fumbled to the floor.

I scrabbled desperately at my
feet to find the key, relieved when my fingers closed over it. I
managed to insert it properly this time, despite quaking
uncontrollably. I revved the engine and sped off, leaving those men
in my dust. In my rear view mirror I witnessed Blond-man throwing
the first punch.

I hoped he pummelled the jerk
into a mound of bloodied mush. It was nothing more than he
deserved.

I cried all the way home in
nervous reaction, the tears blurring my vision. Thankfully there
wasn’t much traffic at that time of the night and I made it home
safely, the remote on the dashboard of the car automatically
opening the Warehouse’s garage door. I skidded to a halt near
Heller’s Mercedes, parking crookedly.

The garage was full of men
mobilising for major action. Before I even opened the door there
were a dozen of them surrounding me, helping me out of the vehicle.
I pushed everyone away violently, simultaneously terrified and
pissed off. They wisely let me go, noting my tears and grease
stains.

Heller pressed through the
crowd. He attempted to put his arms around me, but I shoved him
aggressively.

“Get away from me!” I screamed
at him, looking around me wildly. I’d moved beyond upset to
hysterical, and nobody was sure what to do with me. I didn’t even
know what to do with me. “Where the
fuck
were you all? I
rang everyone! Doesn’t anyone answer their fucking phones in this
place? None of you came to help me.
No one!
As far as I’m
concerned, you can all just fuck off and die, you . . . you . . .
fuckheads!”

And on that classy parting
comment, I tried to stalk off to the stairs, but my legs crumpled
and I had to stop to lean against the nearest vehicle, afraid I was
going to collapse in front of them all. Heller grasped me around
the waist and lifted me up to sit on the bonnet. I wanted to kick
him and slide off, but I honestly didn’t believe that my legs would
cooperate. So I sat there, controlling my breathing until I felt
calmer. Someone handed me a handkerchief. I wiped my eyes and
nose.

Heller ordered all the men to
leave, thanking them for their time. Most of them trooped off
obediently, but plainly curious. I was sure they’d all know the
details by tomorrow morning anyway. This place was worse than an
all-girls school for gossip and rumours.

Heller turned back to me, but
didn’t touch me, although I think he wanted to. “What happened,
Matilda?”

I took a deep, shuddery breath.
“I had a flat tyre. I changed it and a group of men started
grabbing me and hassling me, well, just one did, but the others
watched on and I didn’t know what to do and I thought about what
Farrell would advise and I tried to protect myself but all I had
was my car key and I tried to reason with them but I was so afraid
and it was six against one and the tyre lever was on the other side
of the car and my capsicum spray was in my bag but it was in the
car and I didn’t want to stab him in the neck but I would have and
I was going to punch him but then they started fighting and I ran
to the car and drove away . . .”

I drew in a desperate breath.
Hysteria was rapidly building again, and the tears poured down my
face. Heller gently rubbed his hands up and down my upper arms
until I calmed again.

I looked at Heller
reproachfully, eyes swimming with tears. “I rang you for twenty
minutes! I rang everyone. Nobody answered their phone. I was so
scared, and there was nobody to help me. Where was everyone?”

His face was a study in
uncomfortable anguish. “The others were on the rooftop. None of
them had their phones with them. And I was talking to . . .
someone.”

“For twenty whole minutes? When
you knew I was driving by myself at night?” I couldn’t hide my
hurt. “When did you stop caring about me?”

“That’s not fair, Matilda. I’ve
never stopped caring about you.”

“Yes, you have,” I stated
matter-of-factly and slid off the bonnet, testing my legs. “I’m
going to my flat.” I needed a shower and a huge glass of wine.

“I’ll come up with you.”

“I don’t want you to.”

“At least let me know that
you’re okay.”

“I’m okay,” I confirmed
coldly.

“Don’t look at me like that,
Matilda,” he demanded.

“Like what?”

“Like you don’t trust me any
more.”

His phone rang and he checked
the identity of the caller, sighing heavily before answering.

“Hello again,” he snapped
impatiently. “Is it important, because I’m very busy at the
moment?”

He turned away to talk. I took
that opportunity to carefully take myself upstairs where I had a
very long and hot shower. Afterwards, I poured myself a large glass
of wine and sat on the lounge to watch some mindless and
forgettable TV. I wasn’t sure I would be able to sleep, but hoped I
would hit that post-adrenaline slump and drop off instantly.

I hadn’t locked my door, and
there was a brief rap before the door opened and Heller stepped
inside. I stayed seated on the lounge, my feet propped up on the
coffee table.

“Are you really okay, my sweet?
You’ve been through so much lately.”

“I’m fine,” I insisted, not
wanting to talk to him.

He hesitated, appearing
uncharacteristically uncertain. “Would you like me to stay with you
tonight?”

I hesitated too, because there
was nothing more I wanted than to sleep in his arms all night, safe
and protected. I almost softened, but then I thought of him with
Vanessa and how he’d been talking to her when I couldn’t get
through to him on the phone. I hardened up again.

“Thanks, but I’ll be okay by
myself.” My voice was cool.

He didn’t argue, but after a
final regretful glance, turned and left. I locked the door behind
him and went to bed where I tossed and turned for ages before
drifting into a troubled, dream-filled sleep.

Chapter 19

The next day Will finally rang
me back and although I agreed to see him later that evening, I
couldn’t deny that I was frosty with him. He sounded a touch
distant himself and I worried that he was still upset that I hadn’t
gone home with him after I found out about Patricia. That thought
only served to remind me that Patricia was due in court today to
plead, and I wanted to be there to offer my support for her.

At the desk I checked the
court’s schedule on my computer and saw that she was scheduled for
a late morning hearing. Heller walked in and asked me what I was
doing and when I told him, he offered to drive me there. I accepted
because my newfound confidence in driving had been shattered once
more after the previous evening’s ‘adventure’.

We didn’t speak much on the
journey downtown. Heller’s phone rang and he threw it to me, asking
me to answer it for him.

“Hello, Heller’s phone. Heller’s
little helper speaking,” I said. He smiled at me.

“I want to speak to Heller.” A
woman’s voice, not very polite.

I, on the other hand, was the
very model of polite professionalism. “I’m sorry, he’s not
available at the moment. May I take a message?”

“Tell him to call me back
immediately.”

“And you are?” I asked, even
though I knew perfectly well who she was.

“He knows.” Then I was listening
to the ringtone. She didn’t even say goodbye.

“Who was it?” he asked.

“A very rude woman. Apparently
you know who she is. You have to ring her back immediately. Or
preferably even sooner.” He nodded without much enthusiasm.

The phone rang again, so I
answered. “Hello, Heller’s phone. This is –”

A hang up. A minute later it
rang again. I answered and received another hang up. A further
minute and it rang again. I looked over at Heller.

“Leave it,” he said with a
sigh.

His phone continued to ring
every minute.

“Does this happen often?”

“Sometimes,” he admitted glumly.
“When she’s not happy.”

I couldn’t stop my laugh. “Wow!
She’s intense.”

“Drop it,” he warned.

But the constant ringing started
to annoy me so I turned his phone off.

“That’s how I miss important
calls, you know,” he said wryly. I rolled my eyes and turned it
back on. It rang immediately and I answered.

“Heller’s phone. Heller’s love
bunny speaking. I’m sorry he can’t come to the phone right now
because he’s been a very naughty boy and I have him tied to my bed
for a jolly good spanking,” I said sweetly.

In response, I received a stream
of obscenities. I held the phone away from my ear in
mock-amazement. Then she hung up again.

“Goodness me!” I exclaimed.
“Your lady friend has a colourful vocabulary.”

“You’re not improving her mood
by doing that,” he pointed out bluntly, but there was a suggestion
of a smile on his shapely lips.

I sat through another half-dozen
rings without answering, when I decided that I’d really had enough.
The next time it rang I answered.

“Look, he’ll ring you back when
he stops driving, you crazy bitch. Okay?” I yelled into the phone
and this time, I hung up.

Heller’s sideways glance was
loaded with admonition, but I didn’t care. What I said did the
trick, because she stopped ringing.

I studied him while he drove,
surprised that he’d put up with such harassment from a woman. That
concerned me.

“Do you love her?” I blurted
out. It may have been the bravest question I’d ever asked anyone in
my life.

He glanced at me quickly. “No!
Of course I don’t,” he replied with a sincerity that called to be
believed. “I don’t
do
love, Matilda. You know that.” Silence
for a while. “I’ve only ever met one woman in my life who might
change my mind about that. And it’s definitely not Vanessa. She’s
merely a . . . pastime.”

His eyes slid my way and that
funny feeling invaded my stomach again. I wished I hadn’t asked
that question, because now I swirled with emotions I didn’t
understand. Maybe I was merely one of his pastimes too? And maybe I
wasn’t. How would I ever know?

I should have realised that he
wouldn’t let it go. “Why do you ask? Are you jealous?”

I heaved a weary sigh. “No
Heller, I didn’t ask out of jealousy.” And wasn’t that quite the
falsehood? “I was just wondering why you put up with a woman who’s
so obviously obsessed with you. It’s not healthy or normal. And I’m
sure even you realise that.”

“Maybe I enjoy the attention.
I’m not receiving much of that lately from . . . others. It’s a
nice change to have a woman chasing after me, instead of trying to
avoid me all the time.”

It was my turn to glance at him,
pondering his words, but his eyes remained firmly fixed on the road
ahead.

“She sounds like a potential
bunny boiler.”

He stared at me, bemused. “What
on earth’s a bunny boiler?”

I laughed. “Heller, you really
need to bone up on pop culture. Watch the movie
Fatal
Attraction
and all will be revealed.”

“You know I don’t have time to
watch movies. I have a business to run. A business that keeps you
housed and fed. So just tell me what a bunny boiler is.”

“She might end up becoming a
scary stalker when you dump her.” Interestingly, he didn’t dispute
that he would split up with Vanessa one day. That made me feel a
little more cheerful.

We approached the court complex.
In his inimitable way, he managed to score a parking spot on a
street nearby. I was about to say goodbye to him when he unclipped
his seatbelt and opened his door.

He noticed my surprise. “I’m
coming too. She was my client,” he explained.

We sat together in the public
gallery. I spied Corella on the other side of the gallery and gave
her a small wave. Patricia’s committal hearing was over in less
than thirty minutes. She appeared in prison garb, under escort. As
it was a full hand up committal, there was no cross-examination.
The charge was read out and she pleaded not guilty to murdering her
husband. Consequently, the magistrate committed her to trial at a
future sitting of the Supreme Court. Her lawyer argued for bail,
which was denied. And then she was escorted back to the remand
centre.

“I guess I’ll be called up as a
witness at her trial,” I said glumly.

“Most certainly. Are you
worried?”

“No. I want a jury to know what
a violent man her husband was. But I’ll be nervous.”

He took my hand and squeezed it.
“You’ll do fine. The trial won’t be for ages anyway. I’ll go with
you if you want me to. Although now that I think about it, I’ll
probably be called up as a witness too.”

I let him hold my hand back to
the Mercedes, enjoying the physical contact with him. He had turned
off his phone while we were in the courtroom and he switched it
back on again. It rang immediately. He sighed with impatience when
he checked the screen.

“That’s not normal behaviour,
Heller. You know that, don’t you?”

“She’s angry because I didn’t
see her last night when I said I would,” he admitted. “I was too
busy worrying about a certain volatile, but much cherished,
employee who seemed to have completely vanished.”