Gemma wished Murray would make the boys go to bed. Since they’d come home, Trent and Max had not let up for a minute about what happened under the shed. But Murray had barely said a word. Most of all, she wanted to hear the tape, but Murray refused to let the boys listen to it on account of all the swearing.
Finally nine o’clock rolled around and he sent them off to bed.
“Want to tell me what really happened?”
Murray glanced over at her and she noticed tiny red veins creeping across the whites of his eyes. He looked like he’d been crying.
“It was horrible, Gemma. So scary with the boys there. At one point this guy came downstairs, they called him Pete. You should see him. He’s covered in tattoos. And I mean covered. His arms, chest, neck. He was built too, like he does body building or something. Anyway he came downstairs and peed in the gap in the wall we crawled through. All it would’ve taken was for him to glance up and I swear to God he would have seen us. It was stupid. I should never have gone there. Especially not with the boys.” He twisted the empty wine glass in his hand.
She wished she’d been there, but she couldn’t get out of work today, not after she’d charged the wedding party triple her normal fee to be open on a Sunday. The whole time she was waxing, plucking and spray tanning the giggling girls, her mind was on Murray taking those photos. “So how many photos did you get?”
He turned to her with a vacant expression on his face.
“What?” She shrugged.
He blinked several times, then sighed. “I only took one photo, but I don’t think it’ll be any good. It was dark under there.”
“Where’s the camera? I’ll take it to the camera shop tomorrow and get the film developed.”
“On the sideboard at the front door.”
Gemma fetched the camera, put it in her handbag so she wouldn’t forget it in the morning and walked back. “So did they say anything about how much money was going to be in the bank?”
“No.”
“Let’s listen to the tape.”
“You can. I’ve heard enough for one day.”
“Are you sure?” But one look at his face was enough of an answer. “Oh, okay then.” Leaving him on the lounge, she grabbed her wine glass, topped it up at the fridge and then sat down at the kitchen table. She couldn’t understand what was wrong with him. For the first time in, well, ever, something exciting was happening.
She listened to the tape, refilling her glass several more times. It was everything she expected and more. Swearing, violence, threats, secrecy, mistrust, and the most intriguing of all was the woman. By the sound of her she seemed more like a high tea guest than a bank robber. The tape finally ended, and while it rewound to the beginning she finished off her wine. When it clicked to a stop she stood up and walked back to Murray who was still sitting in the same position. She straddled him on the lounge.
“What’s wrong, baby?” She kissed his forehead and then tasted the saltiness on her lips.
He looked up at her. There was something in his eyes that she couldn’t quite read. Was it fear? Resignation? It definitely wasn’t excitement. He sighed. “As I said before, Gemma, this is real. It’s not a movie we’re somehow starring in.”
“I know that, babe. But don’t you think it’s just a little bit fun and exciting?”
“No. I think it’s scary.”
She cupped his cheeks and pouted her lips at him. “Not that scary. You guys are okay.”
“But we nearly got caught.”
“But you didn’t, babe. So it just proves the hiding space is perfect.”
He rubbed his eyes. They were even more bloodshot now. “Are you going to take the tape to the police this time? Or shall I?”
“I will. But I’ll get the photo developed first so I can take it to them too.”
Murray studied her, maybe looking for confirmation that she meant it.
For the first time she noticed a couple of grey streaks in his moustache. Maybe it’s time to shave it off. She wondered what he’d look like without it. Younger maybe. He could also use an update of clothes. She hadn’t seen him in anything new since she met him. Actually, they could both use a wardrobe overhaul. But that was unlikely given they pretty much lived from pay cheque to pay cheque. Some weeks Gemma couldn’t even afford to draw a wage.
She chewed on her inside lip. “So how much money do you think the bank will have on Melbourne Cup day?”
He shrugged. “Probably more than we’ll earn in our lifetimes.”
“It’s not fair,” she said. “We work all our lives and never see that much money. These guys do a couple of weeks planning and get millions of dollars.”
“I doubt it’ll be millions, and look at what they’re risking to get it… Their lives, their freedom.”
“Imagine what we could do with all that money. You and I could both get new cars and we could buy the boys one of those Sony Discman thingies.” She kissed his forehead again, then cupped his cheek. “I’d be able to sell my business. Oh…imagine the holidays we could have with the boys.”
“We don’t have that kind of money and we never will. I wish you’d stop thinking about it.”
“I can’t, it’s millions of dollars.”
“You don’t know that!”
“I know, but I can dream a little, can’t I?” She squeezed his cheeks, forcing his lips to pout, and then leant in to kiss him.