The Lies We Tell (8 page)

“I know.”

Todd kissed her cheek again.

“Sia very pretty.”

“Yes, she is.”

“Good daughter.”

Todd laughed. “Don’t marry us off just yet, Mum.”

“Night, love.”

Todd settled his mother down, and went back to the office.

“Goodbye, Dad.” He turned off the light and went to bed.

Waking on Mary and Jim’s couch, it took a moment for Sia to realise why she was there and remember the events of the night before.

She sat and stared at the carpet, trying to make a decision on how to face the day. In the end, one step at a time seemed the best move and so she went into the kitchen for breakfast.

Everyone was already up. The four kids were sitting along one side of the table, chomping on fingers of toast and slurping chocolate milk. Jim was at one end, tucking into bacon and eggs while Mary was at the stove, cooking some more.

Sienna sat with her back to her sister. Sia took the seat next to her and frowned at the slight swelling around Sienna’s jaw.

“How is it?”

Sienna took a sip of coffee and winced. “Sore, but I’ll live.”

“Here you go.” Mary put a plate of scrambled eggs in front of Sienna. She smiled at Sia. “What can I get for you?”

“Just coffee will be fine.”

“Not just coffee. You need food in your stomach to face the day.”

“All right, bacon sandwich.”

“Done.” Mary turned back to her cooking.

“What are you going to do?” Sienna said.

“I need to go to the station and see what I can do about bailing Dad out.” Sia frowned. “Hope it won’t cost too much.”

“What about the exhibition?” Jim said. “You’ve got to take the paintings to Sydney today.”

The weight she’d felt lifted last night settled heavily back on Sia’s shoulders. “I can’t,” she said. “I’ll give the gallery owner a call and tell him they’ll be late.”

“I can’t see that he’ll be happy with that,” Jim said.

“It’s the only way.”

“No, it’s not,” Sienna said. “I’ll take care of Dad, you take the paintings to Sydney.”

“No.”

“Then you take care of Dad and I’ll take the paintings to Sydney.”

“No. You need to rest today.”

“I’ll take the paintings,” Jim said.

“No. What if Mary needs you?”

The phone rang. Jim answered and almost immediately was holding it out.

“It’s for you, Sia. Col Hamilton.”

Sia took the handset — it seemed someone else was going to decide her actions for the day.

“Hello?”

“Ms Collins, I need you to come down to the station this morning.” Col’s formal speech made it clear this was an official call.

“Sure,” Sia said. “Just let me shower and change and I’ll be right down.”

“Sia. I not only need to speak to you about the events of last night, but also about what happened ten years ago.”

Sia ignored his last words — she’d deal with it. “I’ll be there in less than an hour.” She disconnected, and looked at Mary and Sienna, watching her expectantly. “There, day decided. I’m going to the police station and the exhibition can wait.”

“No it can’t.” She swung around. Todd stood in the kitchen door, Jim hovering behind him. He looked ridiculously good — clean-shaven, wet hair pushed from his forehead. Sia was too aware she was still in last night’s dress, stained with wine.

“I’ll take the paintings to Sydney.”

“Oh Todd, that’s wonderful.” Mary clapped her hands.

Sia slowly stood and walked over to him. “You don’t need to do that,” she said softly.

“Yes, I do. Come out and tell me where I’m headed.” Todd took Sia’s arm and led her out onto the verandah.

The sun was well over the horizon and promising a warm, bright day. However, in her slip dress, Sia shivered.

“I’ll get you something.” Todd went inside and returned with the blanket from the couch. He wrapped it around Sia. “Better?”

“You really don’t need to do this.” Sia held the blanket tight to her breasts. Amazing the change that some people could undergo. Yesterday, she’d never have believed Todd could be so considerate.

“Yes, I do. How else will the paintings get there?”

“They can wait —”

“I bet the gallery owner can’t. I’ll take care of it, so you can focus on your Dad.” From his pocket, he pulled out one of the exhibition invitations. “This is the address, right?”

Sia nodded. “You have to deliver them to the back. There’s an alley, which runs down the back of the shops. The gallery’s door is well signed.”

“I want to buy my painting.”

“Of course.”

Todd smiled. “Just like that? No haggling over price?”

“Price is less important to me than the work being owned by someone with an emotional connection to it. You have that. I’ll call the gallery, tell them you’re coming, not me and that nine one seven five isn’t for sale.”

Todd traced a finger down one of the folds of the blanket and Sia felt the touch on her tingling skin. “Don’t do anything rash about your Dad,” he said. “Answer all the questions truthfully and find out what the story is, but don’t do anything. When I get back, we’ll talk through your options.”

“Todd, you’re already doing more than enough.”

He shook his head. “After all the years I’ve hated you, I want to do all I can to make things right.”

She wanted to kiss him — with a stronger need than last night. But she held back and followed him back into the house and silently watched as he got the keys from Jim.

Then he was gone, and one of her problems was solved. Now, to face the other.

Jim drove her, Sienna, and the kids home in Mary’s car. Sienna was spending the day looking after Brock and Ebonny, so Sia showered, changed and drove down to the police station.

“Good morning.” She sat at Col’s desk with a bright smile. “I want to say right off the bat that there’s no need to concern yourself with my robbery. Dad wasn’t thinking clearly last night.”

“I was going to leave that until second, but as you’ve brought it up…” Col pulled a file from the bottom of the paperwork he had on the middle of his desk. He flipped it open. “I’ve never looked at your file before and it made for some very interesting reading. I have to say that if I’d been the investigating officer, there’s no way I would have accepted your confession. I would have continued my investigation and I bet that when I did, I would have found that your father was the culprit. Right?”

Sia took a deep breath. “No. It was me. I confessed.”

“Not very well. You refused to answer any questions of the details of the robbery. And you weren’t able to give any satisfactory explanation for why you stole what you did. Papers, seals, files. Why not steal things you could actually sell?”

Sia’s hands fisted on her knees and she forced them to relax. “I can’t recall now why I did what I did. Just that I did it.”

“Once they arrested you, and had your confession, they didn’t do any forensic testing. But it was collected — fingerprints from the scene, from the items. We have both yours and your father’s fingerprints on file. If I sent them to the lab now, I bet they’d prove your father’s story and not yours. And before you answer, let me say that technically, I can charge you with giving a false statement for confessing to something you didn’t do. I’d rather not do that but continue to back up a story that we both know is untrue and I may just get angry enough to do so.”

Sia stared, stunned. It had never occurred to her that she’d gotten away with it all these years simply because the evidence that would convict her father hadn’t been tested.

Now it could be. Now everything could come out.

“If it turns out that it was in fact my father and not me that broke into the Lansing house and stole those items, what would it mean now?”

“For your father, nothing. The statute of limitations is past, he can’t be charged with the offence. For you — well, we can get your conviction quashed.”

“Why would I want to do that?”

Col frowned. “To clear your name?”

“As far as the people of Oberon are concerned, my name is clear. They don’t care about what I did ten years ago. I’ve been forgiven. Bringing it all up again won’t achieve anything.”

Col leant forward. “Tell me the truth, Sia.”

So she did. By the end, Col was shaking his head.

“That was an incredibly loyal, and incredibly stupid thing to do,” he said.

“I don’t want anyone to know.”

“There’s no reason for me to reopen the investigation, so this can stay between you and me. Except I think the Lansings deserve to know.”

“I’ll tell them,” Sia said, relief flooding her system. It was all going to be okay. “Now, about what Dad did last night.”

“Yes. I’d like your statement, Ms Collins.” Col put the old file away and grabbed a pen. He started writing on the form on top of the pile. “When did you first see your father last night?”

Sia did her best — she talked about how upset her father had been lately, told Col that she’d antagonised her father by being so prideful about her exhibition and that he’d been goaded into acting as he did by her.

Within a couple of questions, Col was shaking his head again.

“Sia, I’ll be questioning everyone,” he said. “Mary Coluchino, Charles Lee, Todd Lansing, Sienna. If they don’t back up your story, then I may just pull out that false statement charge to teach you a lesson.”

A hidden juvenile record was one thing — an adult charge was something that despite her desire to protect her father, Sia couldn’t bear to face.

“He was upset,” she said. “But I’ll stick to the facts from now on.” And she did, giving an exact recounting of everything, including how Frank had accidently hit Sienna and how she’d talked Charles and Todd out of going after him.

“Maybe I shouldn’t have,” she said. “Maybe if I’d let them go, they’d have stopped Dad before he did anything really stupid.”

“Sia, it’s not your fault,” Col said. “Your father was drunk, but he’s a long-term drunk and the alcohol wouldn’t affect his faculties the way it would you and I. He knew what he was doing and he has to accept the responsibility for that.”

“Bail?”

“He’ll be facing the magistrate on Monday morning. He’s got Legal Aid, so you’ll need to talk to them about what it will cost.”

“Can I see him?”

“No. He’s still sobering up. When he’s ready, we’ll ship him to Bathurst. Monday morning, in court, you can see him then.”

Sia stepped out into the bright sunshine, wondering how the weather could be so happy when everything seemed so dark.

At home, she called the Legal Aid office. They hadn’t started looking at Frank’s case yet, being caught up with cases appearing before the magistrate that morning, but the girl she spoke to promised to have a look and call Sia before the day was done.

Then Brock and Ebonny took over and happily kept Sia’s mind off their father for several hours.

The Legal Aid lawyer called in the early afternoon.

“I’ve spoken to the prosecutor,” she said. “They’re going to be asking for remand, not bail. Apparently your father is known for disappearing.”

“He goes on drinking binges, but he always comes home,” Sia said.

“Well, that’s not going to play well for the magistrate. I’ll do what I can, but be prepared for the fact he won’t be coming home for a while.”

What would she do, Sia thought as she hung up. What the hell was she going to do?

Then the gallery owner called. It was good to know that Todd had arrived safely and that the paintings were now in the right place, ready to be hung for Friday’s opening. The owner was less happy that nine one seven five wasn’t for sale — he’d seen the work and spent ten minutes raving about it, which did Sia’s ego a lot of good.

But she wouldn’t budge and she hung up glad that at least one thing in her life was going well.

Dinner was done. Brock and Ebonny were asleep and Sienna had taken herself off to bed as well, feeling the effects of the night before more strongly than she’d anticipated.

Sia sat on the lounge, drinking a glass of wine and poring over various financial statements. A bit of research online seemed to suggest that she’d need about $10,000 to bail her father out on Monday and now she was trying to work out where to find the money.

A knock at the door interrupted her thoughts. Sia answered and instantly smiled at the sight of Todd.

“You’re back. So glad you’re safe.”

“Thought I’d let you know.”

“Come in.” She stepped aside.

Todd walked into the middle of the room and looked around, nodding. “Very nice.”

It was. It had been furnished on a budget, but she and Sienna had been crafty in their use of cushions, throw rugs and colours to brighten the room. Actually crafty as well — Sienna had made the two lamp stands and revarnished the end tables and coffee table, while Sia had painted portraits of the family to decorate the walls.

“Thank you. Can I offer you a drink?” She walked over to the coffee table and gestured at her wine.

“Better not. I believe police have a duty to be fully on the right side of the law.”

“Tea or coffee, then?”

“Tea would be great.”

When she came back in with a tray so he could make up the drink as he liked, Todd was sitting on the lounge and looking through the papers there. Her first instinct was to snatch the information from his hands.

“Trying to find bail money?”

Sia put the tray down slowly. “I can handle it myself.” She sat, forcing herself to act calmly.

“I don’t doubt it. But that doesn’t mean it’s not smart to accept help when it’s offered.” Todd put the papers down and fixed his tea. Sia tried to make her movement of the statements across to her side of the table, out of his reach, look casual.

Todd sipped the tea and sighed. “Nice.” Then he turned to her. “So, what’s the story with your dad?”

“He’s facing the magistrate on Monday. Legal aid say the prosecutor is talking remand in custody. They’re worried about Dad skipping bail.”

“You have to admit that he’s not a sound case.”

“But he’s needed here, at home. This is where he should be.”

“Is he? From what I’ve seen, the person the kids need is you.”