Ecstasy Lake (24 page)

‘The doctor said you had to take it easy.'

‘I'll take it any way you want to give it.'

‘You're a dope.'

‘You're beautiful.'

Later, I was still on my back and she was cuddled up to me with one of her legs over both of mine.

‘Tell me about her.'

‘Who?'

‘The woman you were heartbroken about when we first met. You said there was someone.'

‘There was.'

‘Tell me about her.'

‘I met her years ago, in somewhat difficult circumstances.'

‘What's her name?'

‘Kara.'

‘Kara. Alright. Go on.'

‘When I was younger I usually tried to avoid getting involved with women. I guess I failed with her.'

‘You fell in love?'

‘If you want to put it that way.'

‘What happened?'

‘She was—she is—an activist. She has causes. She campaigned for years about asylum seekers. That's how we met, near Roxby Downs. Then she went overseas.'

‘So you broke up?'

‘Nope, I followed her. I tried to get work close by. It wasn't easy. She went to some of the toughest places in the world—Sierra Leone, Afghanistan, Haiti. Hotspots of misery.'

‘But you went.'

‘I wanted her to do what she wanted to do. When she was in Sierra Leone I got a job at a goldmine in Ghana. When she was in Afghanistan I worked in the oil fields in Turkmenistan. Last year I was in Louisiana, not far from Haiti. Then I came home.'

‘You busted up?'

‘If you want to put it that way.'

‘Why?'

‘No real reason, I guess. For a long time I enjoyed the life. We had fun. But she is so driven by her work. I realised I would forever just be following her around. Kind of like a dog.'

‘You were too proud for that? Plenty of women follow their men around.'

‘Yeah.'

‘I didn't mean to be harsh.'

‘I was sick of following her around. I'd been doing it for ten years. Then I got a call from Tasso. It was good timing. I was ready to leave.'

‘Just like that?'

‘It had been coming for a while, I guess. I think we both realised we'd reached the end. She'll move on. It's what she does.'

‘I wouldn't be so sure about that.'

My mind wandered back to the moment when our relationship had ended. Kara was on leave from her job with
Médecins Sans Frontières
and visited me Stateside. The visit didn't go well. One evening, just before she returned to Haiti, we argued. It was a hot, muggy, Louisiana night, with rolling black clouds on a purple horizon and too many glasses of rum. The argument was about the evils of uranium mining, but it could have been about anything. And it led to where it always led. ‘What is it you
do
believe in, Steve? You've got to believe in something.'

‘Why do I got to?'

‘Because otherwise what's the point of your existence? What is your purpose? Do you believe in anything?'

‘Sure I do.'

‘What?'

‘If I have to tell you that, sweetheart, we've been wasting each other's time for the last ten years.'

‘Don't call me sweetheart. It's patronising.'

‘It's a term of endearment.'

‘I don't like it. You call me sweetheart but you never tell me how you really feel. In all this time, I still don't
really
know how you feel about me or about anything. You've always got a funny line, but it's not enough anymore. I've spent the last ten years trying to get you to be honest, at least with yourself. I've decided you're incapable of it.'

Some time in the middle of the night she had turned to me, and her fingertips began stroking my body. She moved slowly above me in the darkness, kissing my hair and face and then arching her back so I could kiss her breasts. I wanted it to last forever, that moment, and as she moved faster I tried to slow her down. But you might as well try slowing a planet. There was ecstasy, and then there was nothing.

‘You know I love you, don't you?'

Perhaps I had dozed, but her breathy voice woke me, lips touching my ear.

‘Yeah.'

As I said it, though, I knew the bubble that was love had already burst. Now her head was on my chest, my heart. I stroked her hair. I put my hands on either side of her face and drew it towards me; I could perceive it only dimly, like a fading memory.

‘Will you come back?'

For a long time she didn't answer. She dismounted, and we lay together in the sticky black ink of the night, the sticky black ink of despair, our hands loosely together.

‘No.'

I didn't sleep again that night, although I pretended to. Before dawn she rose, and I listened to her take a shower and finish packing. I thought she would come to me but I heard the front door quietly open and close. All I could hear then was the scream of blood in my head.

‘Do you still love her, Steve?' said Melody, bringing me back to the present.

‘Tasso says love is just a bunch of hormones.'

‘Why doesn't it surprise me that Tasso says that?' I shrugged. ‘So Tasso doesn't believe in love?'

‘He may be a little cynical about it.'

‘You didn't answer my question.'

‘I said he may be a little cynical.'

‘Not that question.' She jabbed me in the ribs.

‘Careful, that's sore.'

‘Do you still love her?'

‘I guess I do, in a way.'

‘What way?'

‘I don't know. I don't know what it means. Do I miss her? Of course I do. Do I want her back? I don't think so. Can we talk about something else? Absolutely. Tell me about your loves. No, don't.'

‘Why not?'

‘Some things are better not to know.'

‘Would she want you back?'

‘No. As I say, she moves on. Can we?'

‘And you come home.'

‘Yeah.' I was starting to wish I had a bottle handy.

‘So this is home?'

‘I guess it is.'

‘You have family here?'

‘Just a brother. Luke. I recently found out he's gay. Melody, can we go to sleep now?'

‘Really? Your brother is gay?'

‘He says he is. Bisexual. He has a partner. Who I haven't met yet.'

‘How do you feel about that?'

‘About Luke being gay? I don't suppose I've quite processed it.'

Melody was quiet for a while, maybe while she processed some things.

‘Alright, so you have a brother. What about your mother?'

‘Dead.'

‘Father?'

‘Dick.'

‘Is that his name?'

‘No.'

‘You want to explain it, then?'

‘Not really.' She was eyeballing me. I took a deep breath. ‘I was an only child. By the time I was six or seven I could tell dad was abusing mum.'

‘Hitting her? Like Harlin?'

‘No, I don't think he was ever violent. He just didn't respect her. Treated her like a slave. She tried to pretend everything was alright, but it wasn't. She loved him completely, you see, so every nasty thing he did was like a punch in the guts. I found out later he had at least two affairs. Luke was the result of one of them, towards the end. Then, one day, Dad just walked out. I was twelve. It was pretty much the end of Mum. I've hated the guy ever since.'

‘Where is he now?'

‘He's got a place down south, I think. Him and his new wife.'

‘Luke's mum?'

‘No, Luke's mum got over him and moved on. Consequently, Luke doesn't hate Dad the way I do. But Luke and I have always been pretty close. Since we became aware of each other's existence.'

‘Have you been to see him since you got back? Your dad, I mean.'

‘No. I haven't seen him since I was eighteen.'

‘How do you know he's still a dick? He might have changed.'

‘I hope he has. But I wouldn't want to see him, even if he had.'

‘Alright.'

‘I'm sure not all families are dysfunctional. Harlin's, for example. He seems well adjusted.'

She gave a little laugh. ‘Did he ever give you his speech about every suburb, every street?'

‘Yeah.'

‘I heard it a few times. Harlin doesn't come from a particularly functional family.'

36

By Sunday I was moving around the house and the pain in my shoulder was easing. My right arm was in a sling. Bert arrived. He asked me how I was feeling and I told him I wasn't too bad.

‘Are you up to a short drive?'

‘Of course. Why?'

‘Tasso wants to see you. In his suite.' Even though he was good at keeping a straight face, there was something about Bert's manner that worried me.

‘Is there a problem?'

‘You could say that.'

Melody stayed with Chris and Paul, and Bert and I made the short trip to the city in silence. Appleyard took me up in the lift, a grim look on his face. The door to Tasso's suite was open and I nodded to Appleyard and went in, closing the door behind me.

Tasso wasn't in the living room but there was a hole in the big window and a trail of what looked like severed clothing on the floor leading to the bedroom. That was where I found Tasso. He was lying on the bed with his eyes closed, bare-chested and bare-footed. The place was in disarray. The doors and drawers of the wardrobe were open and the wardrobe was empty. Clothing was strewn on the floor. At my feet was half a suit jacket—it had been cut down the middle and had only one arm and one lapel. It seemed that every item of clothing had been cut in half. Even shoes. I cleared my throat and Tasso opened his eyes.

‘You alright?' I said.

‘Yeah, I'm fine.' He sat up and swung his feet to the floor. ‘Want a beer?' He put on a shirt, which as far as I could tell was the only one still intact.

‘Sure.'

‘How's your shoulder?'

‘Getting better.'

I followed him to the kitchenette and he took two beers from the fridge.

‘Someone doesn't like you.' I gestured at the trail of emasculated clothing. ‘Know who it was?'

‘Oh yeah, I know alright.' He opened a beer and handed it to me. ‘It was Fern. She's not happy with me.' We sat on the couches in the living room.

‘Fern? Fern did this? She cut up your clothes?'

‘She did. She cut up my clothes, my credit cards, my toothbrush, my suitcases. Anything she could find that belonged to me, she cut in half.'

‘She must have had a good pair of scissors.'

‘She did. It's not easy to cut shoes in half.'

‘Still got two plums?'

‘Yeah, first thing I checked.'

‘What about that?' I gestured at the window. The hole in it was bigger than a fist, a spider web of fractures radiating outwards from it. ‘Did she do that?'

‘Yeah. You know that rock I had from Hiskey? She threw it at me. I ducked and it went through the window. She's got a good arm.'

‘What were you doing while she was cutting everything up?'

‘I wasn't here. I came home and found the place like this. We had a fight. She threw the rock at me and left. Stormed out, I think would be the term.' He laughed. ‘Mind you, it's hard to storm while you're waiting for a lift. She did her best.'

‘And did this all happen for any particular reason? Or is she just crazy?'

‘She's crazy. But, yeah, there was a reason.'

‘Which was?'

Tasso took a swig of his beer. ‘She found out I have a son.'

There was a knock at the door and I answered it. A couple of guys were standing there, looking like tradesmen.

‘We've come to measure the window,' said one of them. He had a moustache I wanted to step on. He held up a tape measure. ‘If it's convenient.'

‘Sure, good timing.' I let them in. Tasso and I finished our beers while the glaziers measured the window, and Tasso grabbed another couple from the fridge and opened mine for me again. I looked through the broken window at the promenade below.

‘Any idea where the rock landed?'

‘Appleyard told me it narrowly missed a child and it was just luck no one was killed. He's spent most of the afternoon fending off cops.'

‘We'll replace the window tomorrow,' said the glazier with the moustache. ‘If it's convenient.' He and his sidekick had stuck sheets of clear adhesive plastic onto the window and a strip of red tape diagonally across it.

‘Sure,' said Tasso.

‘We have to do it from the outside. In the meantime, don't lean on this.' He tapped the glass, very gently. ‘It's a long way down.'

‘We won't test it, don't worry,' said Tasso. ‘Appleyard wants me to move out until this thing is fixed,' he said to me, ‘but I couldn't be bothered.'

‘What do you mean you've got a son?' I said, when the glaziers had gone.

‘I've got a little boy. He's nearly two.'

‘And you just thought you'd keep that little bit of information to yourself? Not bother to tell your friends?'

Tasso rubbed his face with his hands. ‘I wanted to tell you. But I couldn't, could I?'

‘Why not?'

‘Because of Fern, obviously.'

‘How the hell did you think you could keep it secret?'

‘It's been done before. Not by me, I must say. And what else could I do? I knew she'd be upset if she found out.'

‘That was perceptive.'

‘Fuck you, Steve.'

‘That's not fair, Tasso.'

He rubbed his face again and looked at me. ‘No, it's not. Sorry. It's a mess.' He took another swig of his beer. ‘I suppose I should have just ended it with Fern, you know? But I just couldn't let her go. I don't know what it is.'

‘It's always puzzled me,' I said. I put the beer bottle to my face, which was hot. ‘She's a smart and beautiful woman, but you don't usually hang onto them, smart and beautiful or not. You should have left her behind years ago. For both your sakes.'

‘It's different with her.'

‘You've got a dirty great hormone imbalance. You should see a quack.'

‘Possibly.' We sat in silence for a while. The hot north wind was making a desolate howl through the fractured glass.

‘So who's the mother? Of your boy? What's his name?'

‘Harry, his name's Harry. His mother is a woman I met. Melinda. I was only in Adelaide for a week.'

‘She lives here?'

‘Yeah. I bought her a nice place in the eastern suburbs. I give her a big fat allowance and I go see the boy every few days.'

‘Which is what you're doing when you disappear and no one knows where you are.'

‘Yeah.' The skin around his eyes crinkled for a moment. ‘Although sometimes I'm just screwing a chick somewhere.'

‘And are you still seeing Melinda as well?'

‘You mean are we still screwing?'

‘Yeah.'

‘No, that's done and dusted. As I said, it was only a fling, a couple of nights. But she got pregnant and decided to keep it without telling me. Then when the boy was about three months old she got in touch. The DNA test came back positive. Three times. I had three tests done, independently. The boy is mine.'

‘And the mother has an income for life.'

‘Yeah, it was a good fucken play by her.' He had finished his beer and was inspecting the bottle. He fetched two more from the fridge.

‘So you're a dad. Jesus, Tasso. Well … congratulations.'

‘Thanks.' We clinked our bottles. ‘You know, I never thought about being a father, I never had any intention of being a father. Melinda just wanted a payout and I could've walked away from it, a few million poorer. But I decided I wanted to be involved in the kid's life. Best decision I ever made. The lawyers stitched up a deal and I can see the boy twice a week. He's the reason I came back to Adelaide, Steve. Hiskey's find was part of it, sure, but I wanted to be near the boy.' He left the room and came back holding two bits of stiff paper, which he handed to me. They were two halves of a photograph. I pieced them together. It was a photo of Tasso, apparently taken through a window. There was a vague outline of furniture in the room beyond and the reflection of a large eucalypt. But Tasso was clearly visible. He was holding a curly-haired child in his outstretched arms. Tasso was looking at the child and the child was looking at him and they both looked happy.

‘So this is Harry.'

‘Yeah.'

‘Nice-looking boy.'

‘He is. Just like his dad.'

‘And why the hell would you keep a photo of him lying around? I assume Fern found it?'

Tasso shook his head, for longer than he needed to. ‘That's the thing, Steve. Until Fern tore it in half and threw it at me, I had never seen that photo. Someone's been spying on me.'

‘Do you know where it was taken?'

‘Yeah, that's the front room of Melinda's house. I'm pretty sure it was taken only a few days ago.'

‘Do you know how Fern got it?'

‘No. She wasn't in the mood to answer questions. She spat at me, you know.'

I looked again at the carnage of the suite. ‘I can tell she was upset.'

‘A little.'

‘Because of the deceit?'

The beer wasn't doing Tasso much good. He was starting to look depressed. ‘Yeah, partly. But she's been on at me for ages to have a baby and I've always said no. I guess she's at that age. Biological clock, tick tick tick, blah blah blah.'

‘I see.'

We sat in silence again for a while and listened to the wind howl.

‘The things that make women mad are not the same things that make men mad,' said Tasso. ‘You understand women?'

‘Motherhood is a strong instinct,' I said. ‘Possibly the strongest.'

‘Almost as strong as my instinct to have another beer.' He headed in the direction of the fridge.

‘That's not instinct, that's addiction. Where's Fern now?'

He handed me a fourth beer, although I hadn't finished my third. ‘I don't know. She stormed out and I haven't heard from her since. She's probably gone back to her parents' place. But the real question is who gave her the photo.'

‘Any ideas?'

Tasso shrugged. ‘I can think of a few candidates. Hardcastle, Sonia, Harlin. Although Harlin's grudge is mostly with you. Maybe she took it herself—you know, followed me out there one day. Maybe she hired a private detective to try to catch me out at something.'

‘And what about Harry? Someone knows where he lives. He could be in danger. And his mother, too, I suppose.'

‘I already thought of that. They're going to stay here for a while. I've booked a suite for them.'

‘Good idea. Maybe don't bring them up here until that window is fixed.'

‘I won't, don't worry.' Tasso looked at his watch and put down his beer. ‘Now I'm going shopping,' he said. ‘I need some new clothes.'