The Soulmate, page 18
‘If what is on the USB is so valuable, it will be in your interests to keep quiet. I’m sorry, Max, but it’s the only way I can protect my family.’
I watch Max’s hand curl into a fist. ‘I’d urge you to reconsider, Gabe.’
‘I won’t,’ Gabe says, though he looks less confident now. There’s no mistaking the menace in Max’s voice. And yet what can he do? He dropped the USB into a crevice between the rocks – he has nothing to give Max. He could confess that, but it would mean losing his one bit of leverage.
‘Funny,’ Max says, ‘I thought you knew who you were dealing with.’
‘Is that a threat?’ Gabe asks.
Silly boys. They’re both so scared. Both talking such big talk.
‘Unfortunately,’ Max says, ‘it’s a promise.’
Max ends the call and bangs his head against the headrest of the armchair. I can practically see the thoughts swirling in his head as he considers how to proceed, weighs up various options. Max is good at assessing risk. Excellent at devising contingency plans. It is a passion of his. But even I can see this situation has him stumped.
When he mulled over business decisions in the past, even tricky ones, he always seemed so alive. He practically buzzed with energy. It has occurred to me that this is what happens when genetics combine to hit the sweet spot. He had just enough magic to make him brilliant, but not so much that it sent him mad – unlike his brother.
But today, Max looks as close to mad as I’ve ever seen him.
Part of what is holding him back is that he still feels affection for Gabe, even now. He understands that Gabe is trying to protect himself and his family. He understands that Gabe, despite his brilliance, can make very bad decisions. His empathy for Gabe is what makes this so hard.
After several minutes, he picks up his phone. He doesn’t want to do it. He knows it’s the wrong thing to do. But he does it anyway.
‘Baz,’ he says, ‘I have a job for you.’
58
PIPPA
NOW
‘What happened?’ I ask, the moment Gabe hangs up the phone.
I am on the couch, clutching a cushion to my chest as if it is a giant stress ball. I heard Gabe’s half of the conversation obviously, but I need to know what Max said. The idea that this is not my burden to carry is so preposterous to me now I almost laugh. How could I not share it with Gabe? He is my husband. For God’s sake, Gabe is me.
Gabe is standing at the back door, looking out over the ocean.
‘Gabe?’
Still, he doesn’t respond. He ponders. Breathes. I have a sudden impulse to punch him in the face if he doesn’t answer me immediately.
‘Gabe!’
This snaps him out of it. He looks at me blankly, as if he’d forgotten I was here. ‘What?’
‘What happened?’
‘Sorry,’ he says. ‘Max didn’t believe me when I told him Amanda jumped. He said if I didn’t tell him the truth, he was going to the police.’ He turns back to the view. ‘But then he started asking questions about the USB, and he seemed to forget about the police.’
I squeeze the edges of the cushion. ‘And?’
‘And it occurred to me that I could use it as insurance. To stop him going to the cops.’
‘But you don’t have it.’
‘No. But he doesn’t know that. The important thing is that he thinks I have it.’
He moves away from the back door and sinks onto the couch beside me. He still looks troubled.
‘But he must have been upset when you said you wouldn’t give it to him,’ I say. ‘Surely he’s not just going to accept that?’
‘He wasn’t happy. But he’s a pragmatist. He’ll understand that we have to protect ourselves.’
I’m not so sure. Would Max just let it go? I think of what Gabe said to me the other day. Max isn’t the nice guy everyone thinks he is. I think of what Mei said. Max Cameron is not the kind of enemy you want. He knows some dangerous people.
‘He’s worried the USB will fall into the wrong hands, Pip. But it won’t. It’s gone. Which means Max is safe from whatever is on it . . . and we’re safe from Max.’
‘But are we really safe? If Max is the guy you said he is, surely he’s going to try to get it back?’
Gabe tucks a strand of hair behind my ear and smiles at me. It is supposed to be reassuring, but it misses somehow. I get the feeling that he’s as concerned as I am.
The next question that slips out of me takes me by surprise. Yet I must realise the weight of it, because it comes out so softly even I can barely hear it.
‘There’s nothing else is there, Gabe? Nothing you’re not telling me?’
‘No,’ he says. I can see the sense of betrayal in his eyes. ‘There’s nothing.’
He puts his arms around me, and we drift into silence – Gabe in his world, me in mine. I try not to focus on the fact that I’m not sure I believe him.
59
AMANDA
BEFORE
Max and I both reared back as we heard the gunshot.
‘Baz, Jesus. No!’ Max cried. ‘I didn’t give instructions to shoot. I said not to harm him! What are you doing?’
I put a hand on Max’s arm. ‘What is it? What happened?’
But he didn’t meet my eye, and he shook his head to silence me.
‘Baz,’ he repeated. ‘Are you there? What just happened?’
Max listened. His eyes closed. ‘Shit. Shit.’ He walked over to the wall and rested his forehead against it. Then, again: ‘Shit!’
Baz must have continued talking because Max was silent for a while, just nodding. Finally he said: ‘All right. Yes. Call me when it’s done.’
He ended the call, walked around his desk and collapsed into his chair. It took me several minutes of pleading to get him to say anything at all.
‘What happened?’ I asked, kneeling by his side. ‘Tell me, Max. Please.’
‘It was an accident,’ he said at last. ‘A miscommunication.’ He had a faraway look in his eyes. I suspected he was in shock.
‘But I don’t understand. What kind of miscommunication? Baz is a professional. How did this happen?’
Max didn’t meet my eye for the longest time. When he did, there was something in his gaze. It looked a little like responsibility. Or guilt.
‘Baz didn’t shoot him,’ Max said. ‘It was Gabe.’
60
PIPPA
NOW
‘What are you looking for, Daddy?’ Freya asks that afternoon at the beach. It’s cold but sunny and the girls are playing on the sand in their tracksuits, with buckets and spades. I sit beside them on a towel, pretending to be interested in their banter, while utterly consumed by my own thoughts.
‘Daddy!’ Freya repeats. ‘What are you looking for?’
Gabe is on his hands and knees on the rocks, peering into the nooks and crannies. Since his phone call with Max, he’s become obsessed with finding the USB. He has fishing wire with magnets attached which he intermittently drops into holes and then pulls out again. So far, he’s pulled out two bottle tops, a five-cent coin and a foil chocolate wrapper. He’s so focused on his search that he still doesn’t hear Freya’s question.
‘Daddy just dropped some money,’ I say. ‘He’s trying to find it.’
The girls look appalled. They recently discovered the value of money when Dad gave them two dollars each to buy treats at the corner store. An important lesson in fiscal management, Dad said, as they considered the price of gummy bears versus Kinder Surprises. Also a royal pain in the arse, given that they now ask the price of every item on the shelf at the supermarket, and whether that is more or less than two dollars.
‘I’ll help,’ Asha says, picking up her bucket and moving to the foot of the rocks. I watch as she starts jamming her chubby little hands into the crevices between the rocks.
‘Keep looking, Daddy,’ Freya says supportively. ‘You’ll find it!’
I don’t share Freya’s confidence. These rocks would take a crane to move, and they are stacked at least six high. Something as small as a USB would likely have slid down a crevice to the bottom, particularly given all the rain we’ve had. It would be like finding the proverbial needle in a haystack. I have to say, I won’t be upset if it doesn’t turn up. Perhaps it’s the fact that I feature on that USB, but I take great comfort in knowing it’s buried under the rocks. That is, I think, the perfect place for it.
But Gabe appears to feel differently.
After nearly an hour, I get up off my towel and go sit beside Gabe on the rocks. ‘It’s not the end of the world if we don’t find it, is it?’ I ask.
It’s not, as far as I can tell. Yet since Gabe’s phone call with Max, and despite his assertions to the contrary, I can’t help but feel that I’m still missing a piece of the puzzle.
‘No,’ Gabe says. ‘It’s not the end of the world. The important thing is that Max thinks we have it.’
‘So why are you even looking?’
‘I’d just like to know that it really is gone. That it won’t show up unexpectedly in a year’s time.’
‘If it does, it’s Max’s problem, not ours.’
Gabe shrugs, but a flicker of something crosses his face. It looks a little like fear.
61
AMANDA
AFTER
It’s a sweet little beach excursion the Gerard family is on. Such a handsome family, out at the beach with their buckets and spades. They look like they wouldn’t have a care in the world.
But I’m starting to realise that it’s a rare family which doesn’t have a few problems. The Gerard family certainly have their fair share of troubles. Mental illness, infidelity, an illegitimate child and, now, criminal behaviour – packaged up as a happy family day at the beach. It’s just so interesting.
Perhaps the most interesting thing is that, as Gabe and Pippa sit on the rocks, agonising over their future, they fail to notice that their darling little girl has found herself a shiny silver piece of treasure. One with my name engraved on the side. She decides not to tell her parents what she’s found lest they make her return it. Instead, she pops it into her bucket and sprinkles sand over it, quick as a flash.
She’s her father’s daughter, that one.
62
AMANDA
BEFORE
‘Gabe Gerard shot Arthur?’
Max sighed. ‘Yes.’
‘But why was he even there?’
A look of shame crossed Max’s face. ‘He wanted to be there. He said it was his mistake that got us into this mess and he wanted to ensure that we got out of it.’
‘And you let him?’
Max didn’t respond, but his face said he understood his error.
‘Your judgement of him is skewed, Max,’ I said.
Max looked weary. ‘It’s a little too late for this, Amanda.’
I let out a breath I didn’t realise I was holding. ‘So what happened?’
‘Apparently, he meant to shoot near Arthur, to scare him. He grabbed Baz’s firearm as if it were an episode of Law and Order. I don’t know what came over him.’ Max rested his head in his hands. ‘This whole thing is a nightmare.’
*
Baz dumped Arthur Spriggs’s body in the scrub by the beach. He did a good job; it took the cops nearly a week to find. When they did, Arthur’s underworld connections meant the investigation went off in the wrong direction. The case was mentioned briefly in the papers and that seemed to be that. But Max was haunted by it.
Gabe lost his job, obviously. For a moment I’d worried Max wouldn’t let him go, but thankfully he did what was necessary. Apparently, Gabe didn’t take the news especially well. He begged Max to reconsider, which I thought was rich of him. He got off easy, compared to us. Now, not only did we have a shady organisation investing in the company, its boss had just been murdered! This made extricating ourselves from the investment that much harder.
‘We’ll get out of it,’ Max said. ‘It’s just a little more complicated now. And it will take a little longer.’
‘And Gabe?’
Max threw up his hands. ‘He moves on with his life, I guess.’
‘Hopefully far away from us,’ I said.
For a while, it looked like that was exactly what he did. But our involvement with the Gerard family didn’t end there. Sometimes I wonder if that’s exactly what Max wanted all along.
63
PIPPA
NOW
I‘ve been in the supermarket for nearly an hour. Usually, I find the supermarket soothing. The rows of goods lined up and labelled and in their proper places, adjacent to similar and complementary items. The oranges and apples and bananas arranged in pleasing colour-coded piles. The little baskets for weighing produce. The music playing through the speakers – Smooth FM – which almost always features a Lionel Ritchie song.
Today, though, I am not soothed. I attribute that to the fluttery, nauseated feeling in my belly I’ve become accustomed to this past week. Today, it’s worse than ever. And I have the bizarre sensation that someone is watching me.
I glance up from my shopping list suddenly. The faces around me are all familiar. Preschool mums, neighbours, people I’ve met at the surf club. But the sensation remains. As I stand at the deli counter ordering ham, as I reach for the yoghurt, as I squeeze an avocado – I feel it. It’s unnerving. I watch a young mother hand her baby a peeled banana. The baby throws it on the floor. Nothing at all out of the ordinary. Everything is exactly as it should be.
I mean, it isn’t ridiculous to think someone could be following me, is it? Max, for instance. Isn’t it probable that he is keeping an eye on us? Or, if not him, one of his ‘people’? Someone like Max is bound to have people.
What if someone breaks into our house? I think suddenly. If Max is so desperate for the USB, it would be the obvious thing to do. He wouldn’t find the USB, of course, but who knew what would happen to the house . . . and anyone in it. I think of my family, the way they drop in without warning, sometimes letting themselves in the back door. Someone could be conducting surveillance on the front, think the coast is clear and then head inside only to find Mum in the kitchen making soup, or Kat and Mei popping by for a cup of tea. I must warn them, I realise. But what would I say?
‘Pippa!’
The voice comes from behind me. I spin around, gasping loudly enough that the woman with the baby turns to look.
It’s Dev from The Pantry. ‘Are you all right?’ he asks.
He’s carrying a woven shopping bag. Leeks and celery peek out the top. We’re in a supermarket at 3 pm. Never has there been a less threatening encounter. And yet my heart is racing. I put a hand to my chest, draw in two slow, deep breaths. What is wrong with me?
‘Fine,’ I say. ‘Just too much . . .’
‘Caffeine?’
I laugh. ‘Yes.’ If only that’s all it was.
‘I’m glad I ran into you. I wanted to apologise for keeping you the other day.’
‘Oh no,’ I say, realising that I never got in touch with Dev to explain my sudden departure. Was that only the other day? It feels like a lifetime ago. ‘I’m sorry for running off. I just saw the time and remembered I had somewhere to be. You were busy serving and so I slipped out. I meant to text you. I will get in touch when I’ve finalised your will, though.’ I haven’t even started on it yet. ‘It’s been a bit busy this week. There’ll be no charge.’
Dev raises a hand in protest, but I raise my own hand. ‘I insist. You can pay me in fries. And by spreading the word of my services among your customers, if you feel so inclined.’
‘Well, I can certainly do that.’
‘Then it’s a deal.’ I smile. ‘Anyway, I’d better get this shopping finished.’
‘Yes, me too.’ He steps out of the way of my shopping cart. ‘See you.’
I feel a little better after this exchange. I’d let myself get carried away, I understand now. There is no need for me to be jumpy. It’s just the events of the past week, I tell myself. It would put anyone on edge.
I finish my shop, go through the checkout then wheel my shopping trolley into the car park. It’s when I’m loading my groceries into the boot of my car that I glimpse him in my peripheral vision. A man so tall and wide that he must be some kind of bouncer or bodyguard. It would have been frightening even if he wasn’t walking directly towards me, which he is.
I grab three bags at once and an apple rolls from one onto the ground. I leave it. Because suddenly he’s beside me. He smiles, but it only makes him look even more menacing. I notice he has a tattoo of a snake on his neck.
‘Whoops,’ he says, picking up the apple. He hands it to me. ‘Dropped this.’
‘Thank you,’ I whisper.
He’s silent for a moment, as he assesses me. There’s something not right about his gaze. ‘You’re not nervous, are you? People are often nervous when they see me. But I’m an old softie really. Why don’t I help you with this?’
Before I can object he is reaching into my trolley. I stand there in silence while this huge, menacing man handles my groceries. There’s something about the fact that he can do this in broad daylight, with people all around us, that feels more terrifying than a midnight break-in.
When the groceries are in the car, he hands me my handbag. ‘Here you go. It’s important to return things to their rightful owner, don’t you think?’
I take the bag from his outstretched hand.
‘Hope you bought strawberries,’ he says, almost as an afterthought. ‘Asha’s favourite, right?’
He holds my gaze, his expression serious now. When he is satisfied that I’ve got the message, he nods, and walks away.
64
PIPPA
THEN
When Asha turned three, Gabe didn’t show up to her birthday party.
Things hadn’t been great between us. Gabe had been so preoccupied with work that I’d barely seen him – and when I did see him, he was buzzing with the frenetic energy of someone whose mind was elsewhere. I’d come to accept I was powerless in this; I couldn’t help him. But could I leave him? It felt impossible. He was the air I breathed. As difficult as life could be with him, it had to be better than life without him. Didn’t it?
