Jack Irish 2 - Black Tide by Peter Temple

Author:Peter Temple
Language: eng
Format: azw3
Published: 2011-01-28T18:30:00+00:00

The end of the day was in the wind, a cold end. I looked out over the city. Designed by Americans, the city and its citadel. Built from scratch. Our Brasília.

‘When Dean rang from Melbourne, did he give you any idea of what he was doing?

Anything at all?’

She made a helpless shoulder movement, looked away. ‘I shouted at him, started crying. I’d had it, it was all too bloody much. Birthday party, no-one to help me. Then Lorna, the little one, they’re all rushing around, she fell and hit her head against one of Dean’s bloody garden boulders, I never wanted the ugly things. He wanted these rocks, I couldn’t see the point. Little girl lying there, not making a sound, blood pouring out of her head. I thought she was dead…’

She let go of my hand.

‘Anyway, when he rang, it was after eleven that night, the girls were asleep, I wasn’t going to wake them, just went ballistic, how can bloody work be so important that a father can’t be at home for his little girl’s birthday? Said that sort of thing. I mean, can you blame me?’

This was possibly therapeutic for Meryl but it wasn’t helping me. The view was palling, too.

She fired up another cigarette. ‘So, he said, Dean said, listen, pull yourself together, I’m not having a holiday here. He was cross. Really cross. Shouting. Never like that. Never.’

Tossed her head.

Silence. I could feel her shivering.

‘Christ, it gets cold. Then it’s hot. Never felt well since the day I came here. Never. Hate the place.’

She shook her head, scratched her face. Chemical relief was needed. She turned to me, tears down her face, put out a hand, put it on my chest, on my heart, leaned her head.

‘Love him so much,’ she said. ‘I just couldn’t cope. Stupid, weak person.’

I put my right hand over hers, pressed it. ‘No,’ I said. ‘You’re a strong, brave person.

What was he shouting?’

‘He said, he’d been drinking, I can always tell, he said, “Two more days with this bastard Connors and I’m home and fucking Black Tide’s over.’’’

‘The name. Connors. You sure?’

‘Yes.’ Sniff. She sat back. ‘Connors. That’s what he said. This bastard Connors.’

127

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