Heller's Regret (28 page)

I didn’t think Agatha would be able to finish
her three scoops, not used to sugary treats two days in a row, but
she did me proud, licking out the tub when every scrap of ice-cream
had been consumed.

I checked my watch and hustled her back to
the hotel for the afternoon session. Agatha tackled her music with
such enormous passion, seemingly too big for her body. I couldn’t
imagine how a young child could express such depth of emotion
without having lived a life full of great happiness and searing
pain. Just from my short time with her, I’d seen that while she
played some pieces mechanically, others transported her. Those were
usually the ones she’d memorised, not needing the sheet music. If I
was smarter, perhaps I might have been able to discern some pattern
to the pieces she loved.

Mrs Namoy had nothing to complain about when
she hunted us down later that afternoon. Watching Agatha play, I
somehow felt that by providing her with a little fun downtime
during the day, I’d contributed in a small way to her enthusiasm.
She obviously loved playing the piano, exalting in her own natural
skill, but I suspected her mother’s almost rabid obsession with
this academy had drained Agatha of some of her passion.

Later, at the hospital, Brian kept vigil for
Dad, holding his hand and gazing into his face, lost in deep
thought.

“Brian,” I said, startling him. “Why is there
now a DNR on Dad’s information board? Did you tell the doctors not
to resuscitate him? Because I don’t agree with that.”

“Tilly, it was Mum’s decision, and she made
it very reluctantly, trust me. They’d discussed their last wishes
with each other several times and it was Dad’s desire that if he
ever reached a certain medical stage, he didn’t want to be
resuscitated.” Had he been crying or were his eyes red from
tiredness? I couldn’t tell. “You better have a seat.”

I sank into the chair on the other side of
Dad’s bed, taking his hand. It felt smaller, as though he was
shrinking in front of us.

Brian sighed shakily. “The doctor told Mum
and me that Dad has permanent damage to his heart after this heart
attack. His previous one also contributed to the damage.”

“But what does that mean?”

“If he has another heart attack while in his
current condition, then the chances of him surviving are extremely
low.”

“No,” I denied, fighting back tears. “Not
Dad. He’s supposed to live forever. He’s
Dad
!”

“Tilly, you’re still looking at him with a
child’s eyes. You need to look at him lying here in this hospital
bed with adult eyes. He’s no longer a young man. It’s harder for
his body to fight things like this.”

I brought Dad’s non-responsive hand up to my
wet cheek. “He’s always been there for us. I don’t want him to not
be there. I can’t even imagine him not being there.”

In an unusual gesture of sibling kindness, he
reached over to grasp my other hand. His eyes misted up, sending
tremors of fear deep inside me. My brother, the hardarsed homicide
cop who rarely showed any emotion, was
crying
.

“Nobody can live forever,” he said, his voice
breaking. “None of us.”

I hung my head, watching fat tears plop onto
my cargo pants. “How’s Mum? She hasn’t been here the last couple of
nights.”

“No. She’s exhausted herself and she’s not
eating properly. Gayle is making her come home to our place earlier
each day. Mum pitches in to help her make dinner for the girls and
do some other chores for Gayle, which is helping both of them cope.
Gayle’s finding this pregnancy difficult. The baby won’t settle
down at night, so she’s not getting much sleep.”

“My job will be over in a couple of days, so
I’ll ask my supervisor not to give me any more for a while. I can
look after Mum until Dad comes home.”

“Tilly –” Brian started saying, pity in his
eyes.

Not wanting to see it, I stood abruptly,
scraping the chair on the floor and fishing out my car keys from my
pocket. “It’s nearly eight and I haven’t eaten yet. Maybe I’ll see
you tomorrow night. I’ll come straight from work again.”

“Not sure if I’ll be here. It all depends on
work.” He stood too, bending down to kiss Dad’s grey forehead. I
did the same.

He accompanied me out to the carpark, where
our cars were parked in close proximity to each other. “What’s your
current assignment?”

“I’m looking after a lovely little girl
during the day. She’s here for an audition for a spot in an
overseas music academy. She’s a genius on the piano. Really, really
good. Unbelievable, in fact.”

“Sounds like an easy job.”

“Her mother’s very pushy. I suspect she’s one
of those kinds of mothers who fulfil their ambitions through their
children.”

“Poor kid.”

“I know. I feel sorry for her. She doesn’t
have much fun in her life.”

“Sounds familiar,” he said drily, beeping his
car open.

I beeped mine and waved him goodbye. I ate a
light dinner and gladly climbed into bed, lying awake only long
enough to think about Heller. Was what Daniel and Niq thought going
to happen? What would I do if Heller ever decided to leave us?
Would I be able to dust myself off, forget about him and continue
through life, a wiser woman but with a heart more bruised than it
had been? Or would I carry a pain with me forever that niggled
sometimes, like an old injury?

Waking early and because I had a couple of
hours to get ready, I did a light workout, not straining my healing
arms too much, concentrating more on my lying-in-bed-too-long legs.
I had a lazy breakfast, thinking about Heller again. I wondered, as
I had on many occasions, whether Clive was in contact with him. I
believed he was and that he knew, even if he was the only person in
the Warehouse who did, exactly where Heller was at any given
time.

Though depressing myself even more with those
thoughts, I drove off to the hotel, thinking about where I could
take Agatha on our last day alone together. Tomorrow was the big
audition and I imagined that Mrs Namoy would stick close to her
daughter all day. I’d been hired to cover that day as well, which
pleased me, giving me the opportunity to find out if Agatha was
successful, assuming the academy made its decisions on the day of
the auditions.

I was barely in the suite for a minute before
Mrs Namoy rushed off. She’d never volunteered any information about
what she did all day, but it must have been important to her,
judging by the speed in which she departed every time I turned
up.

I’ll admit I wasn’t as attentive to Agatha’s
practising that morning as I should have been, my mind continually
wandering back to Dad. It was nearly impossible to maintain a
cheery facade when it felt as though the earth was moving beneath
me, changing my world and my life forever. But being on a job, I
didn’t have the luxury of thinking time. Agatha finished her work,
eagerly waiting to discover what adventure I’d planned for her
today.

I needed somewhere that would entertain her
without too much input from me. Our destination took a bit longer
to reach, located a couple of long blocks away. But Agatha’s
thrilled, “Oh!” when she saw the Natural History Museum made me
happy I’d made the choice, even though I hadn’t been sure it was a
place she’d be interested in.

She dashed from exhibit to exhibit, playing
on every interactive activity set up for children, goggling at the
dinosaur bones, loving all the dioramas. The museum’s science
centre, with its array of hands-on experiments, kept her engaged
for ages.

I managed to drag her away so we could have a
late lunch at the museum cafe. I bought her a little packet of
plastic dinosaurs from the gift shop, a memento of this day
forever.

At the hospital that night, Sean and Elise
were visiting when I turned up. I took my place on the other side
of Dad and held his hand. He looked a little more ill, a little
more shrunken. He remained completely unresponsive, and a sudden
need to hear him speak, see him smile again or even have him pat my
hand a little ripped through me. I’d have even been happy to hear
The Lecture again. Would I ever be able to share these simple
things with him once more?

“Did Brian tell you what the doctors said?”
Sean asked me hesitantly after we greeted each other.

“Yes.”

He lapsed into silence. None of us spoke
until it was time to leave, though it wasn’t an uncomfortable
quietude.

I walked down to the carpark with them, but
I’d parked on a higher level so we parted ways at the stairs. I
didn’t immediately drive away. I sat in my car, doors locked for
safety, bowing my head until it touched the steering wheel, drawing
in deep ragged breaths. To experience such worry and fear about a
parent was new territory for me, and I wasn’t really sure how to
cope with it. I felt so useless, wanting to help Dad, but not able
to do anything practical, my presence the only thing I could offer
him. It hurt to see nurses and doctors discuss him in
incomprehensible detached medical terms, as if he were just another
patient, not someone so terribly important to my family and me.

People died every day. I
knew
that,
saw it on the news frequently, had even personally witnessed it.
But the tenuous fragility of life had never been so much to the
forefront of my mind before. I thought about nothing else on the
drive home.

Freshly showered and with my growling stomach
appeased by some food I couldn’t later recall, I checked my emails
before going to bed. I’d received little that couldn’t wait for the
next day, except for one – an email from Farrell containing an
attachment.

As far as I remembered, he’d never emailed me
before. He’d sent it from his
Heller’s
email account, so it
must be work related and therefore perfectly safe. I couldn’t
rationalise exactly why I hesitated to open it, apart from a
general wariness about anything involving him that might set off
Heller.
Heller’s not here
, I reminded myself, as if I needed
reminding. And it wasn’t as if Farrell was crazy enough to send me
anything that would get his arse busted again by Heller, or that
I’d ever encourage him to.

Just open the damn email, woman
, I
ordered myself.

He’d forwarded on an email from Mrs Burwood.
In turn she’d forwarded on an email addressed to her. She’d not
added any subject heading, adding to her email one simple word,
Devastated
. I opened the attachment, my eyebrows shooting
up. A topless torso shot of a very self-satisfied Francine gazed
back at me, smiling and wearing nothing except the stolen necklace.
She’d written an email to accompany her photo.

Mrs B. Thanks for all your hard work
introducing me to this gorgeous little set of baubles. It was love
at first sight for me, and now this beauty will fund the rest of my
(soon-to-be extravagant) life, allowing me to be the person I’ve
always wanted to be.

Your faith in me was touching, though rather
misplaced. While you were openly excited by the loan of the
collection, I was quietly excited, having plenty of time to
thoroughly research every aspect of the display cabinets and
security cameras and to make connections with some rather dodgy
people who’d sell you your own grandmother for the right price.
Thanks for being so informative, sharing so many details about the
collection’s safety with me. I really appreciate it! Made my life
easier, though you should probably learn to be more guarded about
security matters in the future. Trusted staff sometimes aren’t what
they seem ;-)

You can share this email with the cops if
you want. I’m long gone. It might just convince them that
soft-hearted fool, Jaegar, was my patsy. Everything he said was
true – it was all my plan and I set him up. Everything I said about
him wasn’t true – apart from the great sex part. He has a heart
like a marshmallow, but a cock that won’t stop! I’ll honestly miss
that, but otherwise the poor sap had no idea what was going on. He
was never part of my plan, so it was no surprise the cops didn’t
find the necklace at his place! And it was me who encouraged him to
make a run for it when he was so worried about his past being
discovered. You have no idea how nervous a man becomes if he thinks
his nice new life is threatened by his past misdeeds. A stupid
thing for him to do, but you must have realised by now he isn’t the
sharpest knife in the block.

Anyway, it’s been fun (not). I can now look
forward to a life much more exciting than being your dogsbody!

Francine (though not for much longer!)
:-)

Arrogant bitch
, I thought, reaching
for my phone after reading the email a second time. He answered
after the third ring.

“Farrell, I just read that email you sent
me.”

“Interesting, wasn’t it?”

“That’s the understatement of the year! Will
they ever catch her?”

“Who knows? She’s definitely skipped the
country. There are some places on this planet where you can enjoy a
wonderful life unbothered by petty nuisances like the police.”

“That necklace. How could she do that? She
loved jewellery and now nobody will ever be able to see it
again.”

“Chalmers, I guess that people love jewellery
in different ways. You like to look at it, appreciating its beauty.
She likes to own it or use it to her advantage.”

I remembered my brief moment of covetousness
when I first set eyes on the necklace, so what he said made sense
to me.

“Everything seems really depressing at the
moment. Bad people getting away with major crimes.” Good people
lying unconscious in hospital, forsaken by their own organs.

“She’ll get her just desserts eventually.
Nobody wins forever.”

Nobody lives forever.

I said a quiet goodnight and hung up.