The traffic was light and if it stayed that way Jill would be home in time to have a quick shower before she met up with Bea and Harry for dinner. Bea had made the booking at Mojo’s over two weeks ago and even though she didn’t feel like going out tonight, dinner with Bea and Harry was exactly what she needed to help take her mind off Robbie.
She was hoping it wouldn’t be a late night, because Rimis had told her before she’d left the station that Scott Carver wanted to see her at Parramatta at 8 am tomorrow morning. He hadn’t said what it was about.
Jill managed to score a park right outside her apartment block. The apartment didn’t come with a car space and given the popularity of New South Head Road, she rarely got a park in front of the building.
She stopped by the bank of letterboxes to collect her mail before she took the stairs to the second floor and let herself into her apartment. After she closed the door, she turned the dead bolt, pressed the button lock, and fastened the security chain. Before Kevin Taggart, her personal safety wasn’t something she’d thought much about. Now, she was compelled to surround herself with it, a natural response to being violated in her own home.
Once she’d put her mail on the sideboard next to the framed photo of her parents on their wedding day, she headed for the bathroom. She locked the door, undressed, stepped into the shower and turned the taps on full. The hot water assaulted her body but it didn’t help ease the numbness she felt.
Forty minutes later, Jill entered Mojo’s Tapas Bar on Campbell Parade. She spotted Bea and Harry at a corner table. At the table next to them, a group of four couples was making a commotion over the seating arrangements.
Jill loved everything Spanish — the food, the language, the culture, and the music. Her mother was Spanish and Jill had often thought it strange she’d given her an Irish name rather than a Spanish one. Something like Juanita or Josefina appealed to Jill far more than Jillian. Then again, despite her Spanish heritage, with her blonde hair and peaches-and-cream complexion, she was pure Irish.
The Spanish lessons she’d taken after she left university were part of her plan to travel to Spain. She hoped to track down her mother’s family. Make some connection. She knew her mother had a sister but her father had never spoken about her. Jill had a feeling there’d been a family falling out when her mother left for Australia.
Jill waved to Harry and Bea. At the table, Bea stood and hugged her and then Harry pulled out a chair and kissed her on both cheeks.
‘Rough day?’ he asked.
‘Yeah.’ She didn’t have to say anything more, her face told the story.
‘Harry and I were so upset when we heard about Robbie.’ Bea grabbed Jill’s hands in hers. ‘And every time I call you, your phone goes to voicemail.’
‘I’m sorry, Bea. It’s been crazy lately, and it’s hard to find the time to answer personal calls.’
Bea squeezed Jill’s hands. ‘I’m just glad you remembered dinner tonight.
So we could talk.’
Harry filled Jill’s glass with Sangria.
‘We saw that documentary on Post Traumatic Stress Disorder on SBS last night.’ Bea leaned in closer to Jill. ‘You’d tell us if you were having problems coping with the job, wouldn’t you?’
‘Of course. And I’m fine. Seriously.’
‘When did you last see Robbie?’ Harry asked.
Strange you should ask, Harry. I saw him this morning at the morgue. Jill swallowed hard. ‘We caught up on New Year’s Day. He seemed okay, great even. He’d been promoted. He seemed happy enough with his life.’ Jill sipped her sangria. ‘He was drunk of course. Showing off, you know what he was like. But he didn’t give me any reason to think anything was wrong.’ Jill shook her head. ‘I guess a lot can happen in six months.’ She drained her glass.
‘Was he in some sort of trouble?’ Harry asked. ‘People don’t usually take their own life unless something’s worrying them. Was he gambling again?’
‘I think so.’
‘Maybe he got in over his head,’ Harry said. ‘And he couldn’t see a way out of it.’
‘And sometimes people kill themselves for no apparent reason,’ Bea added. ‘A daughter of one of my clients took an overdose — she’d just got a place at university. The poor girl had her whole life ahead of her.’
Jill watched Harry’s steady hand refill her glass. If she drank too much tonight, she knew he’d drive her home and she could pick her car up in the morning. She was rostered on for an eight-hour shift and she didn’t have to start until nine. Although first up was that meeting with Scott Carver, and she certainly couldn’t turn up to that with a hangover. Normally, she worked twelve-hour shifts, 6 am to 6 pm, plus two day shifts and two nights a week but because of the increase in their caseload she’d volunteered to work extra shifts.
‘Last week Robbie left a message on my voicemail. I forgot to call him back. Forgot,’ she whispered. ‘I can’t stop thinking I could have done something. I wish I knew what he’d wanted to talk to me about.’
‘It’s not your fault, Jill. You can’t blame yourself. It was Robbie’s decision to take his life,’ Harry said.
Jill paused. ‘That’s the thing, Harry. I don’t think it was suicide.’ Harry and Bea looked at her. ‘What do you mean?’ Bea asked.
‘I can’t see Robbie taking his own life. Can you? He’d moved from Collaroy to Callan Park two weeks ago. Why would he do that? And why Rozelle of all places, and across the road from Callan Park?’
The next table was in full swing. Bea moved her chair closer to Jill and put her arm around her shoulders. Jill propped her elbows on the table, rubbed her hands over her face. ‘I know, what you’re thinking Bea. It’s written all over your face. You think I’m in denial, don’t you?’
‘I think you haven’t allowed yourself to grieve.’ Bea took Jill’s hand. ‘You know you can always talk to me, anytime, day or night.’
‘I know, Bea. Thanks.’ Jill could always count on Bea, their friendship was something they both took seriously. She picked up her glass and sipped the sangria again. ‘I’m just a bit raw at the moment.’
She had to find out what had been going on in Robbie’s life since she saw him last. She was sure he would have told her if there was something bothering him. Was that why he’d called? Even Fin had realised something was up with Robbie.
Jill pulled back on her ponytail and picked up her menu.
‘I played golf with Scott Carver last weekend,’ Harry said. He looked over the top of his menu. ‘He was asking after you.’
‘Was he now.’ Scott Carver. As if she didn’t have enough on her mind. She took a deep breath to compose herself. ‘Now, let’s order.’ For the first time in days Jill had an appetite. ‘I don’t know what you’re having, but I think the calamari with citrus sauce looks good.’