It was late by the time Jason arrived, his Audi S5 pulling into the drive with a squeal of tyres. He held me wordlessly and I clung to his warmth, taken by an inner cold that I couldn’t dispel.
He didn’t ask questions as I explained what had happened, my voice raw and shaky.
‘I’m so sorry,’ he said, when I’d finished. ‘So, so sorry.’ He took me in his arms again, stroked my hair. He knew what my grandparents had meant to me, had eaten at their table countless times while we were in university, helped plan the surprise party for their fiftieth wedding anniversary. His arms held me tight. Solid, alive.
‘Are you all right?’ he asked.
‘I’m fine.’ If you could define ‘fine’ as wanting to crawl into a hole, curl into a ball and hibernate until the nightmare went away. If it meant shivering with a cold that permeated far beyond the surface, one that no amount of blankets could cure. If it meant turning images over and over in my mind until I felt I would go crazy, then yeah, I was fine.
‘Can I get you anything? Have you eaten?’
‘I just want to sleep,’ I said.
‘Of course.’
I lay down on the bed next to him, Bronte curled at my feet, and stared at the ceiling, listening to Jason’s measured breaths as the night wore on. Despite the physical exhaustion, my brain wouldn’t stop, replaying the events of the day, imagining what might have occurred in my grandparents’ house, the terror they must have felt and the helplessness as they realised their fate. Wondering if they had died quickly or been left to suffer a lingering death, if one of them had experienced the horror of witnessing the attack on the other, if they’d tried to defend themselves or been murdered in cold blood. Wondering how they had died, and what was hidden under that sheet.
As the first rays of daylight filtered through the curtains, I slipped out of bed, donned a hoodie and track pants and headed for the beach, stumbling down the sandy path through the sea grass in my haste. I could hear the surf up ahead, saw the waves breaking onto the shore to bubble up the beach and recede again, and didn’t slow until my feet were making footprints in the wet sand below the tideline. Kicking off my thongs, I waded through the freezing surf, feeling the sand slip away beneath my feet with every step. The waves pummelled against my legs, drenching the bottom of my pants.
Oma had loved this beach. The first time she’d seen the sea was when she’d arrived in Bremerhaven prior to boarding the ship for Australia. She’d been awed by its vastness, and fascinated by the unique ecosystem below the surface. Along the journey they’d seen dozens of dolphins, hundreds of fish and seabirds, and whales. Giants of the deep, she’d said.
I remembered the first time we’d spotted whales off this coast. I was six and Lily had just turned thirteen, and we were staying at the beach house with Oma and Opa while Mum and Dad were away in Melbourne. Lily was in one of her moods, and Opa told her if she was going to sulk, she could stay at the house. Lily had slammed into the bedroom, refusing to come out, not even for whale-watching. So the three of us left her at the shack and took our picnic up on the rocks in the hopes of spotting a southern right or perhaps a humpback. We’d been there all afternoon and were packing to leave when I saw something breach barely a hundred metres off shore. There were three of them, two females and a calf, or at least that’s what Oma thought. They put on a show the likes of which I’ve never seen since, jumping and diving and showing off as if they knew they had an audience.
Today the seas were empty, grey and choppy, not even a fishing boat or a freighter in the distance.
I turned and looked back towards the beach house half-hidden by the dunes. It had been Oma’s idea that I move down here once I’d finished university.
‘It’s a waste, that place sitting empty,’ she’d said, ‘while you crowd my dining room with your computers and books and papers. It would be nice to have a meal without sharing it with your stories.’
I’d thought it was a good move. The peace and quiet of the beach was the perfect environment for writing, and I’d managed to write two novels in less time than it had taken me to write my first. Oma and Opa had regained their independence. Years had gone by that way and we’d all been happy with the arrangement. Until strangers had come and invaded my grandparents’ house. And I hadn’t been there to protect them.
I kept walking. Scenarios played like silent films in my head. Was it Oma, with her sharp hearing, who had first sensed that something was wrong? Had Opa confronted the intruder, trying to protect her? Or had he surprised them on his way to the bathroom? Caught them in the act of burgling the house? Either way, why had the intruder killed them? They were in their eighties. What sort of threat could they be? Who could possibly hurt two elderly people asleep in their beds? What sort of monster did that?
Jason was in the kitchen when I returned, his hair wet from the shower. He’d made himself a coffee, using one of the good cups that Oma had insisted on giving me when I’d moved into the beach house. Seeing it on the table irritated me, although I didn’t know why. All the other cups were in the sink waiting to be washed.
‘There you are,’ he said. ‘I was worried.’
‘Sorry. Couldn’t sleep.’
He narrowed his eyes. ‘You all right?’
‘I’m fine.’ Those words. When would they start to have meaning again?
‘Do you want coffee? I can make you one.’
I shook my head. My wet track pants clung to my legs and I started to shiver.
‘I need to contact Lily,’ I said. ‘And Erin. There’s no way I’ll get those revisions done by Monday.’
‘She’ll understand,’ said Jason.
‘And I need to try to find Mum.’ I ran my hand through my hair. ‘God, I have no idea how to even start doing that.’
‘It’s okay. I can help you.’
‘I think Oma might have a number for her – I mean, she might have when she was . . . It would be in her address book.’ I bit my lip.
Jason rubbed my shoulders. ‘Relax. We’ll get it done.’
‘Relax?’ I pulled away from his hands. ‘How can I relax? My grandparents have been murdered.’
‘I didn’t mean it like that,’ he said. His voice was steady, conciliatory. ‘I just meant that you don’t need to do everything right this minute. It can wait.’
I let my shoulders drop, took a deep breath. My emotions seemed to be taking over, swinging from one extreme to the other, heedless of the consequences.
‘Look, why don’t you come stay at my place for a few days? I have some work to do this weekend, but I can work from home and help you sort all this out.’ He took my hands in his. ‘I don’t think it’s a good idea for you to be alone right now.’
I looked up and studied his features, the long straight nose, blue eyes set narrow on a broad face, his smile a little crooked. It was the smile that had drawn me to him in the first place, a smile that seemed conspiratorial and mocking at the same time, as if the two of us shared a secret joke unknown to anyone else in the room. I knew now that it was just an accident of birth, a genetic variation that had given him a dimple on one side and not the other.
‘I don’t know . . .’
‘Think about it,’ he said, cupping my cheek and stroking it with his thumb. ‘Jeez, you’re freezing. Go and have a shower. I’ll make you something to eat.’
I nodded, although I wasn’t hungry. Logic told me he was right. That I needed to get on with the business of life: eat, sleep, shower, brush my teeth. It seemed too much of an effort.
My phone vibrated in my pocket and I dug it out, glanced at the screen. An unknown number.
‘Juliet? It’s Detective Sophie Romanos from Major Crime.’
Sophie Romanos. I’d known it started with an ‘S’. I slotted that name into my memory bank alongside Henry Norton’s.
‘Of course, how are you, detective?’ What a stupid question. I didn’t care how she was. Unless someone had come knocking on her door to tell her a loved one had been murdered, I couldn’t sympathise with any complaints.
‘I’m well, thank you.’ She didn’t bother asking me how I was. ‘Detective Norton and I would like to pop down to ask you a few more questions, if you don’t mind. Some information has come up that we’d like to clarify with you.’
I hesitated, glanced up at Jason who was watching me with interest.
‘Don’t bother coming all the way down here,’ I said, making a decision. The first real decision since I’d heard the news. ‘I’ll be in the city later today. I’d be happy to meet with you then.’
Jason smiled.
‘Unless it’s urgent?’ Could they have apprehended a suspect already?
‘No, it’s not urgent,’ said Detective Romanos. ‘This afternoon will be fine.’
I disconnected the call and pocketed the phone. ‘I’ll pack some things.’