I looked at the empty space on the table and contemplated my next move. Now Paul had taken Gaby’s computer into custody, and mine had been commandeered by the police, I was going to have to sweettalk Maggie into letting me use hers for a bit more research. I could have used my smartphone, but peering into that little screen wasn’t going to do my eyes or my headache any favours.
The landline phone started to ring. Maggie was busy concocting a stir-fry in the kitchen. It sure as hell smelled good. Not counting the chocolate biscuits, I’d hardly eaten all day. I picked up on the fifth ring.
‘Hello,’ I said in my usual I’m-expecting-a-friend manner. What I got was silence, then a deafening click, followed by beep, beep, beep, beep.
‘God, that’s annoying’ I hung up and tossed the phone back where I’d found it on the sofa.
‘What’s your problem?’ was the call from the kitchen.
I wandered on through. ‘Second frigging one of those today. You’d think if people dialled a wrong number they’d just say sorry, instead of hanging up in your ear. Either that or someone thinks it’s a real grown-up way of expressing their delight at my television appearance.’
‘Give them a piece of your mind,’ Maggie said, and emphasised her point with an animated wave of the implement in her hand. ‘Knowing the mentality around here, it will be someone’s sick idea of a joke. You could probably trace the call to the pub. There’ll be a group of guys rolling around on the floor laughing, thinking they’re oh so clever after seeing you on the news. In fact, I find it odd you haven’t wanted to watch it.’
Maggie got my yeah-yeah-yeah look in reply. First off, I hadn’t wanted any distractions while I explored Gaby’s computer; then Paul had called by. And despite being curious about the report on the rest of Gaby’s case, I didn’t feel like being witness to my own moment of glory.
‘Yeah, well, my day has sucked enough without putting myself through the extra torment. It would only put me in a worse mood.’
‘That’s possible, is it?’
I shrugged. ‘I don’t really want to find out. I think—’ My words were cut off by the telephone again.
‘I’ll take care of this one,’ I said as I strode over, grabbed it off the sofa and hit the talk button. ‘Now piss off, you fucking bastards. This is not bloody funny. Just grow up.’
There was a brief, stunned silence before my heart hit my boots. I recognised who was on the other end purely by the sharp intake of breath. Oh, shit.
‘Well I never. What sort of a way is that to greet anyone?’
My eyes scrunched closed and my free hand did an immediate face-palm.
‘I’ve never heard anything so rude in all my life. Now what is going on with you? First I get to see you sprawled all over the news, then I get this kind of reception when I call to see if you’re alright.’
‘God, Mum, I’m sorry, I didn’t realise it was—’
‘Well that much is obvious. What is going on? And why is it that the first I hear of this is through the telly? When were you going to bother to tell us?’
Oh Lordy, she had her hurt voice on. I knew from bitter experience this conversation wasn’t salvageable. I may as well resign myself to fate and take the blows.
‘I’m sorry, so much has been going on, I just haven’t had the chance—’
‘Well it’s good to know where we rate on your list of priorities. For heaven’s sake, they’re saying that you had something to do with the death of this woman, Lockie’s wife. Is that true? They wouldn’t say things like that unless there was something to it. I hope you didn’t have anything to do with this.’
I could not believe my ears – from my own mother.
‘Mum, how can you even think that? Of course I didn’t have anything to—’
‘Well, I don’t know what to think, Sam. It’s obvious you’ve been keeping things from us. They were saying you’ve been suspended. Everyone’s been ringing to see what’s going on, and what have I been able to tell them? Nothing, not a thing, because my daughter hasn’t even seen fit to give me a call.’
She was on a roll, and I knew there was no point trying to insert my side of the story now. The direction of the conversation was inevitable.
‘And your father. You know he’s not well. This could kill him, you know. He was back at the hospital for tests again this morning, so we found out from everyone else that you were on the news, and in your pyjamas. Sam, what were you thinking? What will other people think? We had to wait till tonight to see it because you didn’t have the decency to call, and you weren’t answering your phone.’
Too right there. This was precisely what I’d been trying to avoid. Look how well that move had paid off. My head was aching on too many different levels.
‘So when are you coming home? You can’t stay there. You can help out on the farm. Thank heavens Stephen is here – he and Sheryl are basically running the place for us now. We couldn’t do without them.’
And there it was. Saint Steve had married their perfect daughter-in-law – the one who stayed at home to raise their perfect grandchildren. A point that I was reminded of in every conversation. How could I possibly compete?
‘I know your dad would love to have you back. We said you should never have gone into the police. Look where it’s got you. You should have married that man when you had the chance; you were a fool to let him get away. Things could have been so different. If you’d married him, that girl would never have died.’
Oh bloody hell, now it was my fault that Gaby had been murdered, instead of her being tucked away safe in some civil-service job in Auckland. God only knows how Mum had come to that conclusion – although, in the addled state my mind was in, there was some morbid kind of logic to it.
‘Mum, Mum, look, I had nothing to do with Gaby’s death. I’m only off duties because of my former association with Lockie, that’s all.’ That wasn’t all, but there was no point in explaining further. That thought was proven as when I finally got to put an end to the torturous conversation and get off the phone, ten minutes later, she still didn’t know anything, because she hadn’t given me a chance to get a further word in.
‘Could today get any worse?’ I still had my hands wrapped around the mug of tea Maggie had shoved into them after she’d prised the telephone off me and extinguished my burning ear. She was parked next to me on the sofa.
‘The way it’s going, I don’t dare answer that question. Have you never heard of tempting fate?’
‘Fate, karma, whatever, I must have done something dreadfully bad in a previous life to deserve this.’
‘Was this when you were Cleopatra or Helen of Troy?’
‘Catherine the Great.’ She’d managed to wheedle a smile out of me. ‘Do you think it would be too rude if I rang up and cancelled on Cole. I don’t think I can face going out now. I just want to curl up somewhere and quietly die.’
‘Well you could, but he’s probably already on his way. And if you were counting on my company, I’ve already promised the work girls we’d go over to Gore for a night out. I’m the wheels, so I can’t bail out, sorry.’ She reached over and patted my knee. ‘A night out might take your mind off things.’
Maggie was right. I had kind of been counting on her company. ‘Everyone’s going to have seen me. They’ll be talking, staring. I’ll never be able to live it down. What if someone decides to have a go?’
‘I don’t think you have to worry there. Cole doesn’t strike me as the type of guy to let anyone have a go at a lady, much less you.’
‘Thanks for the compliment,’ I said as I clipped her one on the arm.
‘Oh, don’t be stupid, you know what I mean. He’ll look after you. Anyway, you can’t sulk for ever. If you get out there and show your face, people will give you credit for it and think you’ve got nothing to hide.’
‘You really think so?’ I wasn’t so sure.
‘Yes. Best thing you can do.’
I put the mug down and slouched back into the chair.
‘God, I suppose I should. It will be an early night, though. I feel like crap.’
‘Look a bit like crap, and I hate to tell you, still smell a bit like it too. But I suppose you have had a bit of a shit day.’ If I’d had more energy I’d have thumped her properly. ‘So, what are you wearing out on your date?’
Argghhh. She kept calling it a date. It was nothing of the sort.
‘It’s not a flaming date, we’re just going out for a drink. I think it’s the least I can do, considering. In fact, I probably owe him more than one. I’m just being polite.’
‘Whatever you say, sunshine.’ Maggie could be a cow when she wanted to be. ‘But if you want to look the part on your being-polite non-date, your red V-neck top makes quite an impression.’