‘Okay, Ron. I’ll pick you up at nine.’ Ellie hung up the phone, trying to ease the tension from her shoulders. Last night’s disaster had kept her awake until the clouds on the horizon turned silver. Then she’d had a couple of hours’ deep sleep that left her feeling hung-over and exhausted. She was an idiot.
She tied the sarong more firmly around her, savagely pulling on the knot. How ridiculous to read anything more into Nick’s charming words than a sexy man out for a good time. And now she’d blown her chance at extracting any more information.
She stopped by one of the bookcases that lined the cottage walls. The wooden framed photo of two laughing young women triumphantly holding a trophy aloft had pride of place. The inscription on the silver sculpture said Georgina and Eleanor Wilding. Their first award for a story they did on the Australian Federal Police in East Timor. Their lives were ahead of them then, their futures bright.
‘What would you have done last night, Nina?’ she whispered.
Confrontation had never been Ellie’s style. She was too emotional for a good argument. She sighed, placing the photo back on the shelf, her fingers lingering on the frame.
‘I guess that’s why I’m the photographer and you were the wordsmith. And I blew it.’
The ring of the home phone cut through her thoughts. She grabbed for it. Maybe Alex was finally ready to explain his message.
‘Ellie Wilding.’
‘Good morning, Ellie.’ Nick’s voice trickled down the receiver, like molten lava. She froze, with a furnace-like blast of embarrassment searing through her. ‘We need to talk.’
She cut him off. ‘You said all you needed to last night. So just back off and I’ll see you in court, Mr Lawson.’ She hesitated, not wanting to hang up, willing him to somehow convince her she was wrong, talk her around.
‘Things aren’t always as they appear, Ellie. Give me a chance to explain.’ His tone was persuasive. ‘I have to leave tomorrow and I’m in meetings all afternoon and tonight. Meet me for a coffee this morning. You choose where. Anywhere.’
‘Are you bringing your gun to coffee?’ There was silence at the end of the line. Damn it, she groaned to herself. Where the hell had that come from?
‘Well, only if you want me to.’
Was that amusement in his voice? ‘No, I don’t want you waving a gun around in Half Moon Bay. And this morning’s no good. I’m taking Ron out, so . . .’ She sounded shrewish, but she couldn’t help it.
‘Bring Ron as well if you like. A chaperone, if you’ll feel safer.’
She paused. ‘Okay, there’s a coffee shop called Lillipilly Nook in the main street. We’ll be there at . . .’ She looked at her watch. ‘Give me an hour. Say ten o’clock.’
‘Great, I’ll be there.’ His voice was warm again. ‘See you then, Ellie.’
She hung up. Well, Ron would stop her raging emotions from their erratic swinging. But what could Nick possibly say that would make up for the embarrassment, the secrets of last night? She peered at her reflection in the window and saw dark circles around her eyes. Should have got more sleep instead of obsessing over mistakes.
Well, if you’re going to get to the bottom of this and work out exactly what’s going on, you’d better let Ron in on it
, she said to herself.
Her phone chirped with an incoming message from Felicity.
So????
it said.
‘So? I’m a fool, hankering after things I have no business wanting,’ Ellie muttered as she typed back a reply before hitting the send button.
I’ll tell you tonight and maybe by then I’ll know a bit more.
She dialled Ron’s number. He didn’t offer judgement about the wisdom of inviting Nick Lawson to dinner even though she could sense his lips had tightened into a disapproving line. ‘Three heads are better than one,’ he said as he hung up.
Ellie could picture him sitting at his kitchen table with a wide-eyed Mavis listening in. ‘Ooh, she never!’ An image of the older lady, with rollers in her hair and clutching her floral dressing-gown, brought a glimmer of a smile to Ellie’s face.
It was a team effort, she acknowledged. They’d need all their combined skills to stop O’Sullivan by legal means. And Nick Lawson? The truth about his connection to O’Sullivan must be there, perhaps hidden in plain sight. It galled her to think she may have misread him. She’d always prided herself on accurately reading people’s characters. Everything in her life came down to distilling the truth through the photo. She was seldom wrong. Her first impression of Nicholas Lawson had been one of arrogance and power. He didn’t fit the crime.
But maybe she’d become harder, more immune to the subtleties around her as she struggled to keep her life on an even footing. Immersing herself in her work had been a necessary diversion after Nina’s death. The memory of that desperate medivac was still vivid. It was a photographer’s curse that she could see every detail of that frantic flight in brilliant colour. She closed her eyes and in an instant she was in the jet again, heading away from Kandahar.
Nina’s hand was cold now. Ellie rubbed it for the umpteenth time, trying to bring some colour back to the skin. Her sister’s face hadn’t changed – still serene, at peace, pale as sand in the moonlight. The nurse was hovering.
‘Ellie, you need to get some sleep too. Jacob can give you a sedative.’
‘No point in you collapsing also,’ he added, his accent clipped and European.
‘No. Thanks, but I’m staying put. I’ll move if I’m in your way.’
‘You’re all right.’ The nurse patted her shoulder and headed to the tiny galley in the rear of the jet. They’d been flying for two hours and Ellie could see the rising concern in the frown on the doctor’s face.
Tears spilled over her lids. She bent forwards and rested her damp cheek on Nina’s hand. ‘I’m sorry, Neens. I should have been there for you,’ she whispered. ‘You were always there for me. You never let me down. Not once.’
She felt a movement in the fingers she was clutching so tightly and her head shot up. Was Nina coming out of the coma? Was that a spark of something in her face? Was she trying to open her eyes?
‘Jacob!’
He hurried to her side just as one of the monitor’s alarms started beeping.
‘Damn,’ he muttered and the nurse strode down the aisle. ‘We’re losing her.’
Suddenly, Nina gripped Ellie’s hand with surprising force. Ellie returned the pressure, remembering Nina’s strength. She was strong enough to haul her little sister through the breaking surf. She was tough enough to wave a protest banner in one hand and cling ferociously to Ellie’s wrist with the other as the demonstration against the invasion of Iraq eddied around them, threatening to drag them apart. Yet for all that strength and determination, Nina could be tender enough to dry her sister’s tears with a touch that was gentle and soft.
And then the pressure vanished.
‘Nina? Nina!’ Ellie squeezed hard even as the nurse leant in beside her, fiddling with the tubes from the machines which were now both beeping constantly.
‘Ellie, you need to move.’
Reluctantly, so reluctantly, she unwound her fingers from her sister’s and placed Nina’s hand back on the sheets. It was unresponsive.
‘Nina!’
Ellie knew she was gone. With one last show of her courage, Nina’s spirit had flown.
‘May the angels guide you to Mum,’ Ellie whispered, as the medical staff tried frantically to revive her sister.
They were over the Arabian Sea, no longer in Afghanistan, but Ellie couldn’t see anything as the sobs robbed her of breath. After twenty-four hours of hell, her control snapped.
Ellie opened her eyes to find Shadow licking her hands. Tears were streaming down her face and she palmed them off. ‘Hey, buddy.’ She stroked the big head as he burrowed into her thigh. The memories weren’t quite finished with her.
It had taken another week to get Nina back to Australia and Ellie had, after her meltdown in the aircraft, functioned on autopilot. No tears, no grief until she finally touched down in Australia. And even then her father had needed her, needed her to be strong. Only Alex had seen her crumple, shatter under the strain.
It seemed surreal. Time really was a healer, but still there were moments when the grief forced those memories back to the surface.
Shadow followed Ellie from room to room, aware as only animals can be of the inner turmoil in his mistress, as she sought out the keepsakes of Nina’s life. She ran her finger along the back of a tiny Scotty dog statue on a bookend. Nina had given her the pair for her eighth birthday. Several years later a stray bouncing ball had clipped the edge of one, sending it crashing to the floor. Ellie ran her toe over the dent in the polished floorboards, remembering how Nina held her as she sobbed for her lost dog.
Next to the bookend rested a banksia cone holding a twisted beeswax candle. It was Nina’s one and only attempt at craft. The vanilla perfume lingered still.
In Nina’s bedroom she touched the imprint in the dust on the dressing table. Today she’d collect the film from Garrison. Would it contain more memories of Nina?
She and Ron had been waiting almost twenty minutes, coffees drunk and the small talk drying up when the waitress approached them. ‘Message from Nicholas Lawson, Ellie. He’s running late and will be here in half an hour.’ She smiled at Ellie. ‘He said to say he was really sorry, but something’s come up and he couldn’t get away. He sounded annoyed.’
‘Thank you, young lady,’ said Ron.
‘Another coffee while you wait?’
Ellie declined. ‘No thanks, Amy. I didn’t really have time for him today anyway. I can’t wait any longer. Here’s ten for the bill.’ She turned back to Ron. ‘Come on, let’s get going to Garrison. I’ve got to be at Barry’s photo lab in an hour.’
Ron barely waited for her to start the car as he struggled to get the seatbelt fastened. ‘So, are you going to tell me what’s going on?’
She shot a quick glance at him. ‘You mean Lawson?’
‘Yep.’
‘Right. But don’t get cranky with me.’
‘Depends.’
Ron listened as she poured out the whole story. He shifted his big bulk in his seat and ran a finger around his collar when she spoke of having Nick over for dinner.
‘I said to Mavis that I couldn’t understand why you did that and all she could do was laugh. She reckoned she could understand why. For once I agree with your mate, Alex. You were only asking for trouble.’
‘Thanks, Ron. It’s great to have another dad in this world to save my soul from moral damnation. I’m a grown woman. It seemed like a good idea to get more information. The usual channels aren’t exactly providing truckloads of information, are they?’
‘You know, I always thought you were different to Nina. One little move and all the boys came running.’
‘Of course they did. She was so beautiful. Every photo of her, right from when she was little, shows this gorgeous girl with a brilliant smile.’
‘Sure, but you were always more caring, more trusting. I don’t want to see you hurt again, Ellie.’
‘Thanks, Ronnie. I love you guys for looking after me and for giving me a reason to come home, but I’m not little Ellie any more.’
His smile was sad. Ellie was reminded of a spaniel as Ron shook his head, the bags under his eyes and the swing of his jowls emphasising his age. He should have retired years ago. ‘You’ll always be our little Ellie.’
Her eyes misted as the road meandered up through lush dairy farms. Black-and-white cows watched them go by with soulful brown eyes.
Ellie shot a wry smile at Ron. ‘I’m just sorry I didn’t manage to get any useful information out of him. An underpass for echidnas is hardly earth-shattering. We need more.’
‘Bloody grandstanding to the greenies. That’s all that is.’ The conversation shifted to the legal documents they’d lodged with the courts. Ellie was amazed at some of the insider information Ron had gathered from the council. She wasn’t sure how he’d come by it, but the contents were gold. It meant their protest was more likely to have a positive result. The proof connecting Jase,
The White Bird
and O’Sullivan with the developers was still circumstantial, but she hadn’t given up on it.
They came around the final bend into the jacaranda-lined streets of Garrison where the fallen leaves laid a golden carpet beneath the graceful branches, the sunlight filtering through to warm the ground.
‘Drop you at the council chambers, Ron?’
‘Yeah, that’ll be great. Know where to find me when you get back?’
‘Of course, drinking tea and networking.’
‘You and your networking,’ he snorted, straightening his tie.
‘Sounds better than guys gossiping, doesn’t it?’ she replied.
‘Off you go and leave me to do some work. I’ve got councillors who are as worried as we are about what’s going on. Everything’s off the record, though.’ He waved at her as he shut the door.
She pulled back out into the traffic, pondering his words. How did councillors end up scared of O’Sullivan? A movement caught her eye. Was she imagining it or had a white Commodore been behind her since Half Moon Bay? She took the next turn to the left. The car stayed on her tail. She thought she could see two heads inside. She grinned.
Bring it on, boys. Don’t think you can follow me around to make me change my mind.
Patience was a necessary virtue in photography and Ellie had it in spades.
She slowed down as she approached a corner and watched as the Commodore’s indicator flicked on a moment after hers. She eased her Honda over the speed bumps, and the Commodore was forced up behind her. She slitted her eyes, trying to make out the features of the men in the front seat. Black sunglasses and nondescript hair.
She weaved her way through the vast undercover car park, slowing at each turning and peering up the lanes, ostensibly checking for parks. The Commodore had pulled into a lane further back and she wondered if they’d grown tired of her ramblings.
Time to give them something to whinge about
, she thought. She accelerated out of the car park, cutting across the traffic and turning right, heading for the photo lab. They didn’t follow.