Zach gets there before Melissa. His house is considerably closer, just a few suburbs away, whereas Melissa needs to cross the bridge. He parks a few houses down and turns off the engine. Why has he allowed her to talk him into this? Why is it imperative that it happens now, at 8.30 in the morning? He is due at the surgery in forty minutes. It seems inevitable that he’s going to be late.
No doubt Melissa is reacting to the same emotions he had when he heard the news about Jarrod. His medical knowledge didn’t ease either the shock or the sadness. Poor Annabel. He should call to the house, see how she’s holding up and check on Daniel, too. Izzy managed to have a chat with Daniel before he was discharged from the hospital. A long honest conversation while Zach waited outside in the corridor. At certain points he could hear his wife’s soft laughter as well as sniggering from the teen, although he couldn’t imagine what was funny about the situation.
Izzy came out about a half-hour later.
‘How was it?’ Zach wanted to be able to give Annabel a full account and some degree of hope.
‘You know teenagers ... they simply can’t imagine what it’s like in their parents’ shoes, can’t understand what all the fuss and worry are about. So I focused on his friend, Liam, and the upset he caused him. It was easier for him to understand that ... I also asked Daniel to pop in to see me every now and then at the centre. The good news is he didn’t say no.’
This is the miracle of Izzy. Teenagers rarely say no to her. They may be obstinate, belligerent and defiant with their parents, but become oddly malleable around his wife.
Zach kissed her on the lips. ‘You are extraordinary.’
Now everything has turned on its head. Daniel is without a father. The grief could drive him in one direction or the other. Izzy’s magic might not be enough to save him.
Melissa is here, her blue Mercedes coupé hard to miss as it turns into the street. She gets out of the car and smooths down her skirt. Zach jumps out to join her.
‘Can you explain again what we’re doing here?’
She nods. ‘Like you, I keep coming back to Robbie. He’s the only one who had a legitimate reason to hate us all.’
‘Robbie has an alibi for the afternoon Jarrod was assaulted,’ Zach supplies. He heard this from Katy, who called him after the detective came to the school. Nobody has complied with the directive not to talk about the case. Zach’s guilty too: he has told Izzy every last detail.
Melissa purses her lips. ‘Robbie may have an alibi ... But let’s see if his sister does.’
Zach forgot about Melissa’s intellect, her ability to see things from an entirely different angle. Of course, Celia would feel aggrieved about what happened to Robbie. She watched her brother go through hell at school, and then had to cope with him disappearing from her life, not knowing where he was, if he was safe or even alive. Celia would hate them as much as Robbie does.
Great theory. Surely deserving of at least a phone call to the person in charge of the investigation?
‘Shouldn’t you be relaying your suspicions to the detective?’ he asks once again.
She tucks a strand of jet-black hair behind her ear. ‘I will ... once I’ve convinced myself there’s something worth relaying.’
As though by mutual agreement, they turn to walk towards the front door. Melissa lifts the knocker and clangs it down twice. The door swings open remarkably fast. Celia is right in front of them, bag and car keys in hand, obviously on the verge of leaving for work.
She stares at Zach. ‘Oh, for God’s sake, I thought I asked you to leave him alone? Anyway, he’s not here, he’s walking my son and daughter to school—’
Melissa quickly introduces herself. ‘Actually, we were hoping to chat to you.’
‘Me?’ Celia holds up her keys and jangles them. ‘I’m in a rush, okay? This is not a good time. Actually, no time is a good time, I don’t want to talk to any of you.’
‘We’re sorry,’ Melissa cuts in. ‘We’re sorry about how Robbie was treated. We’re sorry that our actions drove him away from his family, from you ...’
Celia is visibly unimpressed with the apology. She steps out of the house and forcefully shuts the door.
‘Are your parents still alive?’ Melissa falls into step next to her as she walks towards her car, a hatchback that looks like it’ll have trouble passing its next roadworthiness check.
Celia’s profile is set in a frown. ‘My parents are frail and elderly. Please don’t go bothering them.’
‘Was it just you and Robbie growing up?’ Melissa is persistent, Zach has to give her that.
‘And Nick. He lives in Melbourne with his wife and children.’
‘I’m often in Melbourne with work. Which suburb?’
Celia frowns again. Zach can tell she’s conflicted. She doesn’t want to continue the conversation but finds it difficult not to answer such a simple question. ‘Bentleigh.’
‘Do you see him often?’
‘Every few months.’
Celia unlocks her car door, goes to get inside and then changes her mind. Her expression changes, becomes beseeching. ‘Please ... I’m begging you, please leave my brother alone. He’s feeling hounded, and when he gets like this he runs away ... If you’re really genuinely sorry, you would do the decent thing and leave him be.’
She slips into the car, clicks on her seatbelt, and looks over her shoulder as she reverses out of the driveway. Where does she work? Going by her clothes – department-store trousers and blouse – probably an office. Going by the battered state of her car and the slightly rundown air of the house, it’s not a particularly well-paid job. Would a woman like this – with two young children, a full-time job and struggling to make ends meet – have the time and energy to orchestrate revenge on behalf of her brother? Zach recognises her demeanour from patients he sees at his surgery. People who hobble from day to day, doing the best they can in difficult circumstances. People who take each day as it comes, who rarely have the luxury of looking too far forward or too far back.
‘Still think it’s her?’ he asks quietly.
Melissa shakes her head, obviously coming to the same conclusion. ‘No ... But I’d like to find out more about the parents and the brother.’