There was a soft knock, and Paul Guthrie put his head around the door.
‘Is everything all right in here?’
She gave him one of the generous smiles; Guthrie seemed to soak it up. I wouldn’t have minded one myself. He smiled back.
‘Just give us a few minutes more, love’, she said.
‘Right.’ He nodded at me and withdrew.
‘I’d better be quick. Peter didn’t keep his word. He played around all over the place. I’ve never understood why he got married in the first place, except that he was obsessive about children.’ She shook her head as if to throw a thought away. ‘He actually wanted a daughter! When all this shit was going on-it was unbelievable! I left him and took the boys. I went to Brisbane for a while, but the only place I wanted to live was Sydney, so I came back. I never saw Peter again. That sounds bad I know, but I haven’t given you all the details. None of his businesses were legal; he had a conviction for assault and one for carnal knowledge. I felt I didn’t know him. He’d told me thousands of lies. I didn’t want the boys to have anything to do with him. He went overseas when he said he was just interstate. I thought he might take them away. I couldn’t trust him at all. I didn’t ask for anything; I just took the boys and hid. Do you understand?’
‘I think so.’
I was thinking how, after a relationship ends, you come to feel that you never really knew the person at all. It must be a shock to get that feeling while the relationship’s still a going concern. I’d been so interested in the story I’d forgotten to take notes. I scribbled down a few points, added a few question marks.
‘How did you find out all about his criminal life?’
‘I hired a private detective. I used Peter’s money to spy on him. I got tougher as I went along, I can tell you.’
‘Who was the detective?’
‘I’ll never forget him. He was loathsome. His office was at 32 Mahoney Place in Surry Hills. These days I drive blocks out of my way to avoid that part of the world. His name was Phillips.’ She seemed to dislike even saying the name. ‘He knew his job, though. He wrote me a detailed report on Peter.’
‘Have you still got it?’
‘Somewhere. I don’t know…’
‘You say you never saw Keegan again.’
‘No, I didn’t see him, but he made contact with me. Very formal and correct. He sent me money for the boys. He didn’t press to see them and I wouldn’t have let him.’
‘When was the last you heard of him?’
‘About five years ago.’
She had the answer ready for the next question before I’d even formulated it.
‘Yes, he kept sending money after I was married to Paul. Paul’s businesses didn’t really start to do well until five or six years ago. He’s a very good businessman, but he’s very cautious. He built them up slowly. The money from Peter was useful.’
‘Paul didn’t know about it?’
‘No.’
I chewed on that for a minute, thinking what a savage animal pride could be. She knew what I was thinking. I forced a smile.
‘Well, we’ll worry about that when we have to. What did Ray have to say about his father? That’s what’s on his mind, isn’t it?’
She drew a deep breath and straightened her shoulders; the tanned skin was drawn tight over the frame of her bones and in the half-light the hollows below and to both sides of her neck looked like smears and daubs of dark war-paint.
‘Ray was always more interested in his real father than Chris. That’s funny, because Chris is the reflective, scholarly one. I remember I once said something to Chris about it; like, did he mind not knowing his real father. He said, “Mum, that’s the least of my worries.” It was true, too. Ray would ask about him sometimes; I’d try to fob him off. I don’t suppose I did it very well. I just wanted to forget, blot it all out. But you can’t blot things out for other people, can you?’
I shook my head.
‘Chris thought of Paul as his father, Ray didn’t. It comes down to that. Perhaps it was just the extra year or so that made the difference. A few more meetings, games… I don’t know.’
‘You didn’t talk about this with Paul?’
‘No, never.’
‘So, what happened three months ago? What happened today?’
‘Much the same thing really. Ray accusing me of concealing things about his father from him. Of preventing him from meeting him. Calling me a liar. It’s true, I am. I did conceal things, I’d hate them to meet. I’m sure it would wreck everything. But I wasn’t lying when I said I don’t know where Peter was. I don’t, and I haven’t had any contact with him for years. Ray seems determined to find him. He’s going to Brisbane to get help from Chris.’
‘I can’t quite see why you didn’t talk any of this over with Paul.’
‘I wish I had now. But I couldn’t. I had a very bad time after leaving Peter. Some bad experiences. I couldn’t believe that anyone so wonderful as Paul could exist, let alone want me and the boys. I didn’t want there to be any problems. None.’
‘Are you saying what I think you’re saying?’
‘Yes, Mr Hardy. There was no divorce. As far as I know, I’m still married to Peter Keegan.’
I had to think up a story for Paul Guthrie, fast. A version of the truth is what I came out with-Ray’s troubles were still unclear to us but he had talked about his brother.
‘He told your wife he was going to Brisbane to see Chris’, I told him after Pat Guthrie had made some reassuring noises and told her husband that she had a lot of confidence in Mr Hardy, and that she was going to have a sleep.
‘Why, for Christ sake?’ We were in the kitchen and Guthrie was making tea. I hoped to avoid that.
‘I don’t know for sure, but it could be a good sign. The other boy’s steady, you say.’
Guthrie nodded and went on with his preparations. I don’t mind the rituals, which look comforting as such rituals should; it’s the taste of the stuff I can’t stand. Guthrie had mentioned a drink when I arrived, but maybe he’d meant tea all along.
‘Could you ring him up? Tell him Ray’s on the way? Maybe he could get him to stay with him for a while, something like that.’
The kitchen door opened and Pat Guthrie came in. ‘I thought I’d like some tea. What are you two doing?’
Guthrie touched her arm as if it was a privilege. ‘I’m making tea, and Hardy has just asked if we can ring Chris.’
She shook her head. ‘No, he lives in some sort of student house where they don’t have a phone.’
‘I could send him a telegram asking him to ring’, Guthrie said. ‘Or get a message to him at the university.’
‘That’d take days.’ Pat Guthrie looked at me appraisingly and seemed to find in my favour. ‘Perhaps Mr Hardy could go up there and see if he can help bring Ray to his senses. I’m worried about him ranting around, especially in strange places. I think Mr Hardy and Chris would get along all right.’
Did that make me the reflective type, I thought, scholarly, even? Flattering.
‘Good idea’, Guthrie said. He went across the kitchen and put his strong, oarsman’s arm around his wife’s slim waist. ‘Hardy?’
I said I’d go, got the address and details on Chris Guthrie’s university courses from them, and left. I didn’t have to drink the tea.
10
I got some money from the autobank at Railway Square and a surprised look at home from Hilde when I phone-booked a seat to Brisbane. She followed me as I ran around the house gathering things.
‘Now?’ she said. ‘It’s night time.’
‘We never sleep.’
‘That could be true’, she said. ‘You certainly didn’t sleep here last night.’ I made a face at her and she went on. ‘And from the look of you, maybe you didn’t sleep much anywhere. Mmmm?’
She was wearing a tracksuit and sneakers, prepared for one of her long, late night runs. I grinned at her and mimed running on the spot.