Fatal Impact (7 page)

10

A
nya glanced around at the boats and snapped some pictures to show Ben. He loved all things water and everything nautical.

She turned and saw her father. Instantly recognisable in sunglasses, striped polo shirt and knee-length shorts, he was more tanned and leaner than when she’d last seen him, a couple of months ago. It made his silver hair more distinguished.

He stood, removed his glasses and smiled, creating the long dimple creases she had adored as a child. As they hugged, he held her tightly and kissed her head. Bob Reynolds had always been the most affectionate in the family, and through his work he had been known to embrace victims and sometimes even violent offenders.

‘Hey, kiddo, you looked as if you had the weight of the world on those shoulders, just then.’ He stepped back. ‘Everything okay back home?’

‘Just tired. Long day. Ben sends his love and a big hug.’

Bob grinned. ‘I’m sending a giant one back at him.’

Anya was thinking about Ben’s life compared to Emily and Mia’s. How lucky he was to have two loving parents, even if they didn’t live together.

Bob looked out towards the eclectic collection of boats in dock. Sloops, schooners and maxi yachts bobbed amongst fishing trawlers and traditional wooden boats.

‘Remember all the times we sat here watching the finish of the Sydney to Hobart?’

The sounds of seagulls and metal clunking on masts always took her back to those times. The yacht race that began on Boxing Day was one of the world’s top ocean races and a highlight of childhood summers. It had been a welcome break from her grandmother’s farm.

‘Seeing them sail through the harbour was always special.’

‘And there I thought I had to bribe you to come, with the world’s best fish and chips.’

Anya smiled. ‘There was that too.’ Her stomach gurgled at the mention of food.

‘I know just the place where we can sit, enjoy some unusual decor and indulge again.’

It sounded perfect, although the decor had her intrigued. ‘Is Evelyn coming?’

Her father usually stayed with his favourite cousin when he visited.

‘She’s sorry but she’s come down with some sort of virus. Hopefully it’s just a twenty-four-hour thing.’

They walked in the breeze around to Hunter Street, to the old wharf. Anya savoured the salty air and turned to admire the view across to Mount Wellington.

‘Here we are,’ Bob announced, directing her attention to a wooden sign hanging above them, adorned with a skull and crossbones and reading
The Drunken Admiral
. ‘Sorry, they don’t have outside tables, but Evie says this place is her top pick.’

As they entered, the smell of cooking oil and deep-fried fish filled Anya’s nostrils. The place was full with families and conversation. She glanced around at the wooden tables and nautical decor. A skeleton was propped up against a ship’s wheel. Barrels hung from the ceiling and a fake hand protruded from the mouth of a shark’s head. Doubloon-style coins were scattered between iron candlesticks and burning white candles on a display table.

Her father nodded. ‘It’s exactly how she described. Even though you half expect Captain Jack Sparrow to pop out, they tell me the food is incredible.’

‘Ben would have a conniption if he saw this place.’

A friendly waitress greeted them.

Bob said, ‘I have a booking under Reynolds. Do you have anywhere a little quieter?’

‘I’ve put you at a table in the quietest room.’

They followed her to a room with a small window, filled mostly with tables for two. Anya’s father held the chair out for his daughter. ‘Neither of us has to drive, so what would you like to drink?’

‘Pina colada, thanks,’ Anya said to the waitress.

‘I’ll have a scotch on the rocks. And I hear your tempura olives are a specialty.’

‘They are good, I’ll bring you some with your drinks.’ The waitress handed them menus.

Anya’s work at the conference had finished, and she was keen to know how Bob’s workshop had gone. ‘Did you have a good turnout today?’

‘Full room, definitely got some people thinking outside the square.’ He unfolded the napkin. ‘Yours was a cracker talk this morning, apart from the protester coming in. You handled it with great aplomb, I must say.’

‘She wasn’t a protester, Dad. She was desperate for help to prevent what she thought was child abuse. It’s complicated.’

‘Anything I can help with, legal or otherwise?’

Anya shook her head. ‘At the moment it’s a missing persons case.’

The waitress returned with their drinks and placed a tray of tempura olives on top of a treasure map paper placemat.

‘Not that case that’s been on the radio – a child’s body and two others missing?’

Anya took a sip and scanned the menu. ‘Unfortunately, she has been affected by that. And it’s part of my job to be involved.’

Reading the menu, she considered the source of Emily’s fatal infection. E. coli, a bacteria rampant in humans and animals, mostly came from contaminated food. Cooking should kill the bacteria if it were on meat, but raw and undercooked foods and salads were another possible source. And Heyes had had Emily on a raw foods diet.

‘Few people appreciate what goes on behind the scenes when death occurs. I just know how busy you’ve been since you came back from overseas.’ He raised his glass. ‘I have Diana, but who’s looking after you?’

Her father still worked for legal aid part-time, but spent the majority of his days working in prisons and with victims of violent crime. Anya clinked her glass with his and took a long, cool sip. ‘I’m glad you remarried, honestly. Trust me, I’m fine. I love what I do. And Ben is the most wonderful thing to have ever happened to me.’

Bob wiped his lips. ‘Any chance I’ll see my wonderful grandson for his birthday?’

‘We’re not sure where he’ll be on the day.’ He was with his father and – Anya still found it difficult to know what to call Nita. Martin had been about to break up with the woman, or so he said, when she’d called with the news that she had malignant melanoma.

‘Martin and Ben are at Westmead Hospital. They’ll be in Sydney until the end of next week.’ She took another drink and felt her face flush with the alcohol. ‘Nita’s still on the melanoma vaccine trial. It looks like some of the brain tumours are shrinking, but she’s developed pneumonia.’

Her father popped an olive into his mouth. ‘That’s great news about the tumours .
. .
for her.’

Anya knew where this was heading. ‘Please don’t.’

‘Something happened on that cruise between you and Martin. Ben thought you were a family again. How confusing do you think this is for him?’

It was confusing enough for the adults involved. Nita had been about to leave for England, and Martin wanted to separate. Then she’d received the news about having metastatic melanoma, with a very poor prognosis. Everything had changed.

The waitress reappeared. Anya decided on hot rock salmon with wasabi for a main.

‘I’ll have the Yachties Seafood mixed grill,’ Bob said, ‘with a giant bowl of chips. We can share starters, bloody mary oysters and the chorizo entrees would be great. And some bread, too, thanks.’ The waitress cheerily retrieved the menus.

‘It’s a long way from the newspaper-wrapped fish and chips we used to have.’ Keen to change the subject, Anya glanced around and noticed a replica musket on the wall, complete with barnacles along the barrel and handle.

Bob lowered his gaze to meet Anya’s. ‘What are you doing about Martin?’

Reluctantly, she admitted, ‘Nita needs him now. More than–’

‘I get it. More than you do, because you’re healthy. But when are your needs going to be considered? It’s sad about Nita. Tragic, in fact, but do you think she wants to be in a pity relationship right now?’

A waiter delivered a piping hot loaf of bread, on a tray with balsamic vinegar, sea salt and olive oil.

Anya grasped the hot loaf. As she sliced through the crust, steam escaped from the soft centre. ‘It isn’t like that.’

She cut a second piece for herself.

‘Let’s consider the options.’ Bob was used to negotiating and confronting violent offenders with the consequences of their crimes, with the hope of them taking responsibility for their actions. He dipped his bread in the oil, then vinegar, and sprinkled sea salt on top.

‘Even if he’s trying to be honourable, if Martin is waiting until she gets better before he leaves, then he’s living a lie. If he’s waiting until she dies, then he’s depriving her of the chance to find real love. If he doesn’t have the courage to leave her and never really wanted to, then he’s lying to you.’ He took a large bite.

Anya felt a slight draught on her legs. ‘You never liked Martin. No matter how much he grows up, changes or how responsible he’s become, he’ll never be good enough in your and Mum’s eyes.’

Bob finished chewing and swallowed. ‘I’ll concede that in the beginning, and through the divorce, I had my concerns about Martin. He was emotionally immature and when he threatened to take Ben away and deny you any access .
. .
Let’s just say that was unforgivable, even if it was cooked up by his lawyer.’

Anya had to admit that was the lowest point in the relationship and the most hurtful thing Martin had done or said. But things had changed. Neither of them was the same person.

‘People do thoughtless things when they’re hurt. Remember you and Mum?’

‘I do, and it’s something I’ll always regret. Sometimes people are broken and you just can’t fix them. I tried with your mother. God knows I did.’ He paused and looked at a couple being seated across the room. ‘This isn’t about us, it’s about you. Anyone can see Martin is a great father to Ben. Realistically, when has he ever put your needs first?’

The divorce occurred when Martin decided to leave his job nursing. They were living in England at the time, and Anya had to work full-time to pay the bills. When they separated, Martin was the stay-at-home parent, and the judge awarded him custody on that basis, to minimise disruption to Ben.

‘He wanted full custody to hurt you, and he got it.’

‘Dad, I’m always on call, my job doesn’t exactly lend itself to a stable home life.’ Between her locum pathology work with the department of forensic services, and part-time work at the sexual assault unit, her work hours were unpredictable enough. Rapes and murders didn’t conveniently occur during weekdays from 9 am to 5 pm. Something that had always frustrated Martin about their family life was the fact that she could be called out at any time, day or night. Outings and functions were often interrupted by her work. She had attempted to decrease her on-call hours by giving freelance expert opinions in trials, but it had only increased her need to travel and be away from home. Now she needed to work the hours to pay maintenance and child support, while paying off her own mortgage and business costs.

‘Plenty of parents go through that. They hire nannies, or arrange after-school care, without being denied access to the children.’

‘Dad, Ben is happy, and that’s what’s most important.’

He reached across and touched her hand. ‘You deserve to be happy. Never forget that.’

She was beginning to wonder if the reconnection she and Martin had experienced on the cruise was merely a holiday fling. Except that instead of disembarking and never seeing each other again, they shared a child together.

The entrees arrived and Anya was glad of the distraction. She started with an oyster. The Russian vodka had a surprising kick.

Bob stabbed another olive with his fork. ‘Got a call from Damien last week.’

Her father had an unnerving knack of provoking thought, then moving on. She was grateful the conversation now turned to her brother. At thirty, he worked as a forensic lab technician in London, but was adolescent in his refusal to settle down in the one place for very long.

‘How is he?’

‘Skiing with the new girlfriend in Europe. He says hello, and asked about Ben, of course.’ He picked up some capsicum and chorizo with his fork. ‘You know he never forgets birthdays .
. .
anniversaries.’

Anya’s brother was eight years younger and had been born after three-year-old Miriam had been abducted. Mimi’s birthday had been on the seventeenth of January, a week ago. There was only one date worse than the seventeenth, and that was the date of her disappearance. In July it would be thirty-three years since she’d vanished. With the disappearance of a mother and child, Anya braced herself for the comparisons to other missing persons cases, like that of Mimi Reynolds, which would be peppered through the media.

‘He’s worried about your mother.’

Anya collected another oyster. ‘Why?’

Bob put down his cutlery. ‘He rang yesterday, in the middle of the night, his time.’

As the baby of the family, Damien had always been closest to their mother. He constantly complained that she worked too hard, didn’t take holidays, didn’t see her kids or her grandson often enough. He couldn’t seem to fathom that this was their mother’s choice, or that she had changed irrevocably the day Miriam disappeared. Anya dipped some bread in the vinegar.

‘Dad, he’ll never understand completely and can’t be expected to. This time every year Mum becomes withdrawn.
I called her that day too, and she didn’t ring back until yesterday. I emailed her saying I’d be down here. She gets busy with work.’

The waitress delivered the mains. Anya’s salmon with Japanese spices sizzled on its hot rock base. The other dish contained scallops, garlic prawns and fish cooking on its own barbecue plate, alongside chips, salads and sauces. The food was mouth-watering.

‘This looks and smells sensational. Dig in,’ Bob encouraged, and tasted a prawn.

The first bite of salmon melted in Anya’s mouth.

‘Damien’s concerned about her state of mind and may have good reason.’

‘She’s always on call,’ Anya defended. ‘Did she forget to call him back?’

‘Kiddo, she’d forgotten what day it was.’ He cut into a scallop. ‘Thirty-two years of buying Mimi a present for that day. This year she suddenly forgets?’

Jocelyn was sixty-four years old now, and had a strong family history of dementia. Her mother, grandmother, aunts and uncles all had it.