The Naked Room (27 page)

CHAPTER 46

Recriminations

Ally

One week later.

The nightmares are drowning me. Scarpia dances around Wild Pony Rock, my father and mother are urging him on. Stevie lies smashed on the ground. The waves close over him and wash him out to sea. Georgie is urging Brie to throw me off Wild Pony Rock. I’m left standing helpless on the beach, paralysed by fear. Brie is standing smirking at Scarpia

He turns on me, savagely. ‘Well, you wanted to fuck him, didn’t you?’

I wake up, screaming, bringing Pam stumbling into my room to comfort, a nursemaid’s duty, a sister’s caring. And the shock of finding out my father’s name … of all the men in the world, why should he turn out to be my father? My gut crawls with shame as I recall how his good looks affected me when we first met. I knew it was mutual, but thank God I met Brie before either of us made a move.

My almost-intimacy with Angelo makes a relationship now with Brie churn my stomach. Mum keeps trying to talk to me, but I can’t face her yet. She came to my hospital room in a wheelchair, looking pale and drawn, her leg wrapped in bandages from the knee down. Apparently, she was injured when she threw herself at me in that horrible room.

My father was with her. I took one look at him and felt as though the top of my head was coming off. His shoulder and arm were supported in a sling. Their hopeful smiles vanished as they saw my expression. I can still hear myself screeching, spewing shock and betrayal like a river of acid.

‘You? You’re my
father?
How could you do this to me? You were supposed to be my friend. Why didn’t you tell me who you were?

The instant I paused for breath was not long enough for either of them to get a word in.

‘So after all these years you want me to be glad you’re here? Well,
woop-de-doo!’
I shouted, tears pouring down my face and into my mouth, almost choking me. ‘And where were you when I needed you? Did you even care that you abandoned me?’

The kind policewoman stood open-mouthed by the door. Mum came out of her shocked trance. ‘Ally, darling, I can explain—’

‘Explain? What is there to explain, for God’s sake?’ I shrieked. ‘Where were you when I was a little girl? When I watched all the other kids’ fathers at sports days and being there on Parent and Teacher night? And were you in the front row at my first concert being p-p-proud of me?
Of course not.’

I turned on him so viciously that he actually stepped back. ‘And where were you when I made my first recording? Cheering me on? I think not! Too busy making millions!’

Mum finally managed to interrupt. ‘Ally, Ally, James didn’t know about you.
I never told him.’

She wheeled herself over to the bed, stood up and tried to put her arms around me, but I pushed her away. She stumbled and would have fallen if he hadn’t caught her up with his good arm and helped her back into the chair. He attempted to intervene, but my venom stopped him in his tracks.

‘What do you mean,
you didn’t tell him?
There was no such person as Robert Parker, was there?’

Her stricken expression told the story.

‘So, you didn’t tell him I even existed?’ I had to get it right.

Her face whitened. ‘No, I didn’t tell him about you, Ally. It’s not James’s fault. He only found out when you went missing a week ago. And yes, I lied. I couldn’t tell you about my past. I just—
couldn’t.’

She reached out to me with shaking hands, but I shrank away. The policewoman started to leave, but when mum shot her a desperate look she remained, standing against the wall. Mum wheeled herself forward and put her hand on my shoulder. ‘James was furious with me when he found out. It’s a long story Ally, and you have every right to know it.’

I shook her hand off and flicked him a glance out of the corner of my eye. When he opened his mouth to speak, I cut him off again. ‘I’m twenty-five. You had plenty of time to let him know I existed and to tell me the truth. I can’t deal with this now. You want absolution from me for all the years I had no father? Well, it’s not going to happen. You knew where he was all along, but even when I joined the Pacific you didn’t tell me. And you must have known he was involved with the orchestra.’

I burst into tears, hiding from the flurry of appalled activity around me. The detective must have sent them away, because next moment she enfolded me in her arms and rocked me like a child. I roared even louder. Then I felt a prick in my arm and realised the nurse had given me a sedative.

‘Do you feel a little better now?’ Detective Senior Sergeant Prescott asked a few minutes later, as she dried my eyes with a damp face cloth.

‘Yes, thank you. I don’t want to speak to mum yet. I can’t get my head around him being my father. She said he was an accountant. She even had a photo of a man she said was my father. My whole life is a lie.’

She handed me a glass of water. ‘It’s been a shock, but you’ll eventually remember the good times, that your mum loved you and was trying to protect you,’ she said firmly, possibly feeling that a little less melodrama from me would be an excellent thing.

Then she told me about the week they’d spent while the police had been searching for me.

’ Your parents have had a terrible time believing you might be returned to them in pieces, if at all. Your father worked out the plan to reconnoitre the premises with Briece Mochrie. If no one was being held there, they would leave quietly. If they discovered someone imprisoned, he planned to call us. But when Briece heard you scream, he jumped through the manhole and tackled Angelo. Your father fought off the other two men with a tyre lever.’

The image it conjured up felt preposterous. That self-contained, sophisticated man whacking someone with a tyre lever?

‘You’ve been through an ordeal which would send most people off their heads and make no mistake about it, you won’t have an overnight recovery,’ she finished.

‘Post-traumatic stress? I asked drowsily, leaning forward as she took some pillows away and encouraged me to lie down.

‘And survivor’s guilt, but if you work with it rather than against it and let yourself be helped, then you’ll recover. You’re a strong girl and you’ve got an advantage that many don’t.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘You have a loving family, friends and you’re well-liked by your colleagues—’

She reached for the card on a gaily wrapped package sitting on the table nearby and read it to me.
“Hang in there! Splash some of this around! Love from Jacq xx”

‘For me?’

‘Yes, your friend wants to make you feel better and let you know she’s going to be there for you.’

‘I only have mum though, there’s no other family.’ I was feeling very sorry for myself.

She hesitated. ‘Your mum doesn’t even know this yet. In the course of our investigations we discovered that your mum is my husband’s half-sister. I’m your Aunt Susan.’

My eyes flew open. ‘But mum doesn’t have any brothers or sisters.’

‘Her mother, your grandmother, had my husband Harry, by her second husband. Eloise was her daughter from her
first
marriage. My twin daughters, Marli and Brittany, are your cousins.’

CHAPTER 47

Closure

Detective Senior Sergeant Susan Prescott

They buried Angelo Esposito in the far corner of the cemetery, surrounded by hosts of wing-spanned angels, fading plastic flowers and weathered photos of the departed. A line of majestic gum trees stood sentinel, protecting the resting place of his tortured soul. A gentle breeze wafted from the paddocks beyond, where newborn lambs would frolic in the spring. In the distance, a backhoe lay in wait, ready to trundle over to bury the young life forever.

His distraught mother was helped to the graveside by stony-faced sisters. Their father stood a couple of metres away between two detectives, an unyielding, handcuffed figure. Elderly relatives, traditionally black-garbed and wearing head scarves, gathered behind the immediate family and hesitantly recited the Lord’s Prayer, lagging two words behind the priest. A ragged “Amen” finalised the proceedings and the coffin was slowly lowered into the green-draped hole. The mourners each sprinkled a handful of soil into the grave before they turned to leave.

I lingered after the group departed, watching as two brawny, overall-clad council workers piled the floral tributes a short distance away and then moved the backhoe into position to fill the cavity. I felt a morbid fascination in watching the emotionless performance of their duties. Did they give a care to the person they would be burying under the earth? They stopped to light cigarettes, inhale deeply and flick the matches on top of the casket. One of them made a joke and my question was answered.

A cold wind blew across the cemetery. Drawing my coat tightly around me, I looked one last time upon the lonely site. How many victims bore the smudge marks of that young man’s passing through their lives? We would probably never know. Great sadness swept through me when I had looked on his beautiful, dead face. He could have done anything, achieved any goals he set himself. So why and how had his life gone so wrong? But when I remembered the cruel mouth and venom of Tommy Esposito, it all made sense.

CHAPTER 48

Promises

Ally

Brie made a rapid recovery and returned to his flat just a few days after I was rescued. He couldn’t drive because his throat, arm and shoulder were still bandaged, so Pam brought him to my house and told him to phone her when he was ready to return home.

‘Come in, Brie and sit down. You look terrible,’ I said, trying to keep my voice light and airy. He followed me to the lounge room where, white with pain and exhaustion, he eased himself onto the settee. I hastened to make coffee while I gathered my thoughts. ‘Would you like something to eat? Pam made some scones and there’s jam and cream somewhere—’ I babbled, as I opened the refrigerator door.

‘No thank you, Ally. We need to talk. Please come and sit down,’ he requested.

‘I haven’t thanked you for rescuing me. I want you to know I’m very grateful,’ I said, setting the steaming cups on the coffee table. My appreciation for him saving my life sounded trite and shallow; I felt dirty, full of sorrow and terribly guilty because I couldn’t respond as he wanted.

‘Ally, I’d protect you with my life.’

‘You already did, ‘I replied, taking the chair opposite him. He looked at me silently, gorgeous blue eyes showing his hurt at my aloof demeanour. I realised something about him was different, but couldn’t think what it was.

‘What is it, Ally? I realise you don’t want me to tell you how I feel, but last week was the worst fucking time of my life, thinking you might be dea—’ words appeared to fail him. He put his coffee mug down and leaned back on the settee. ‘What happened? Did that bastard actually rape you?’

‘No, he didn’t. He assaulted me.’

‘It wouldn’t matter to me if he did, because—no, I didn’t mean that how it sounded, Ally. I meant I love you no matter what happened. I didn’t mean—’

I rescued him from his stumbling sincerity. ‘I know what you intended to say, Brie, but no, he did not rape me. He didn’t get the chance, thanks to you.’

Brie’s expression eased and then to my astonishment, his eyes filled with tears. He dashed them away with his good hand.

Yearning to respond but unable to commit myself verbally, I forced myself to move over beside him. He wrapped his arm around me and I rested my head against his chest. His heart beat strong and fast against my cheek and my aversion to being touched eased somewhat. ‘Calm down. This is Brie, your friend,’ said my inner voice. ‘He would never hurt you.’ ‘Brie, I know how you feel and if I hadn’t been, kidnapped and everything, I would have…slept with you. I really feel for you, but too much has happened all at once. I need space to get my head around everything. Can you understand that?’

‘Yes, I do, Ally. I think we all need to recover from it, none more so than yourself. But promise me we’ll get together when we’ve both had time to get over this? We’ll take it slowly and see how it goes.’ He gently kissed my mouth.

‘I promise.’ I was grateful for the reprieve.

He smiled briefly and we went on to talk of other things. I realised then that the boy who had romanced me had been replaced by a mature man who loved me enough to allow me to heal at my own pace. I didn’t see him again before his mother and sisters bore him off to recuperate on their family property.

Apart from an awkward hello at both Georgie’s and Jess’s funerals, I still hadn’t spoken to my mother. Two thoughts kept recurring: What if something had happened to her before she finally got around to telling me who he was? Would she have ever given me the information if I hadn’t been in such danger? We buried Georgie in the Masters Island cemetery on the hillside overlooking the ocean. Early winter-morning mist enveloped the island but by ten o’clock it dispersed, leaving a cold, sunny day.

The sun turned the whitecaps to tinsel; mica chips in the granite headstones sparkled like the diamonds Georgie loved. The smell of salt spray filled our nostrils as sea gulls screamed overhead and swooped across the headland. I carefully avoided looking at Wild Pony Rock rearing up against the horizon. The media gathered in the distance, ducking as the birds dive-bombed them. I gazed at the flower-laden casket, mum’s wreath uppermost. Guilt seared through me. Susan was adamant that Georgie was a victim of her own weakness, alcohol, and bore responsibility for her actions. If she hadn’t blurted mum’s secret, she would be still alive and I wouldn’t have been kidnapped. It works both ways, Ally. Intellectually I understood, but my capacity to cope with everything that had happened was diminished.

A couple of days later, we trooped into church in Brisbane and took our places for Jess’s funeral. Brie sat next to Pam. Her mother, Aunt Rosalind, horrified and unnecessarily ashamed when she discovered she had been dating Georgie’s boyfriend and murderer, sat on the other side of me at the far end of the pew. Susan and Harry, my mother’s previously unknown brother and sister-in-law, sat between Brie and mum. My parents tried to talk to me, but I could only shake my head. Friends from our school days and university mingled with our colleagues in the orchestra. Anxious to demonstrate their importance, the directors shuffled into the pew in front of the musicians. Jess’s sister and some geriatric relatives attended. Her parents did not come and no plans were made for a wake. After the service, the congregation made courteous noises and fled to their cars.

The orchestra management arranged for Pam and me to take six weeks leave of absence. Detective Sergeant Taylor and Susan jumped Pam through hoops, threatening to charge her for interfering with a crime scene. Brie was reluctantly let off the hook after he handed over the recorder which he planted under Jess’s kitchen table. Michael, convicted of concealing a crime, received a suspended sentence.

Just before I left the country, James persuaded me to lunch with him. To begin with I felt awkward, finding it hard to get my head around the fact that, for the first time in my life I was actually sitting opposite my dad. He waved my grateful thanks for his intervention away with enviable panache and then talked about the orchestra, my career plans and his life. We cautiously avoided the subject uppermost in both our minds, but eventually he took a deep breath, looked me in the eye and grinned sheepishly.

‘I fancied you for all of five minutes when you joined us.’

‘Ditto, also for all of five minutes! Perhaps we instinctively recognised the similarities between us, because now it’s obvious we’re father and daughter. I don’t know why it wasn’t spotted before,’ I replied, my reward the relief which passed over his face.

He reached across the table and took my hand. ‘Ally, I’m proud to be your dad.’ He hesitated a moment, then plunged into the controversial. ‘Eloise is not to blame entirely. She knows she handled it wrongly and I want to fill you in on our history. Will you let me do that?’

I toyed with the stem of my wine glass, glancing around at the crowded restaurant. ‘I need to know. I do love mum, but I just don’t understand what happened or why she lied to me all my life. Can we get out of here?’

‘Of course,’ he replied, signalling for the bill. As we walked through the Botanical Gardens, James told me about their romance in 1983 and its aftermath.

‘Are your parents still alive?’ I asked, shocked by the duplicity which had destroyed their relationship and left me fatherless.

‘No.’

I took his hand. ‘It’s a bit late to call you “dad” but if I ever get married will you march me down the aisle?’