CHAPTER 18

‘Oo-hoo,’ came a familiar sing-song voice from Sue’s back door which, because her front door was the shop, operated as her front door.

Sue put her hands on the chair’s arms, but couldn’t muster the effort. ‘Come in, Barb,’ she called.

The door creaked and Barb appeared from the kitchen. ‘Cuppa?’

‘Thanks.’

Barb disappeared, the kettle whined, then she reappeared with a cup of Earl Grey, milk and sugar, just the way Sue liked it.

‘I had an odd day,’ Barb said as she sat, which was unlike her. She usually asked how Sue was before sharing her own news. ‘I met some drug dealers. Tanya and her son, Morgan. Morgan wasn’t all that pleasant, but it must have been hard for him growing up in that environment.’

Sue looked at her closely, her heartbeat quickening.

‘What did you think of Morgan?’ asked Barb.

Sue said nothing.

‘Tanya wasn’t keen to share details of customers, of course, but arms were twisted – metaphorically, I mean – and eventually she told me that you bought heroin from her about a week and a half ago. They were a bit vague about the date, as they don’t keep records, but definitely before Joe died.’

Sue looked at her hands.

‘You might tell me you bought the heroin for Leanne, as you knew she was coming up, or she was already here and begged you for just one hit. That she was too sick to go herself. But I don’t think I’d believe you. I don’t think, with all the damage you’ve seen it do to her over the years, you’d buy it for her. Plus, Morgan said you bought four or five doses.’ Barb looked at her, friendly and open, inviting her to respond.

Sue couldn’t meet her eye. They sat, frozen, as Sue tried to work out what to say.

‘You have one child and they wreck their lives as thoroughly as Leanne has,’ she tried eventually. ‘I’m just sick of being sad. And for her to do everything she does to keep buying it, it must be pretty amazing. So I thought I’d give it a try.’

‘It was for you? Heroin?’

Sue nodded.

‘How was it?’

‘Excellent. But don’t worry. I won’t do it again.’

Barb studied her, and then pulled a piece of paper from her shirt pocket, unfolded it and placed it on the table between them.

YOU ARSEHOLE JUNKIE. WE DON’T WANT YOU HERE. YOU’VE DONE ENOUGH DAMAGE. GO SOMEWHERE ELSE.

‘I found it when I cleaned out Joe’s room. I suspect it was written with one of those felt-tipped pens you use in the shop to write on the coffee cups, but I suppose the police lab could tell for sure.’

Sue looked at the note, felt Barb staring at her.

‘You wouldn’t try heroin,’ said Barb. ‘Not after seeing what it’s done to Leanne.’

Sue took a long slow sip of tea, then let out a sigh. ‘After Joe got them both hooked seven years ago, Leanne would call and ask me for money. The first time she said her fridge had broken, then a week later that a flatmate had left without paying the rent, then that they were robbed. All lies, I assume. After the third time, I told her, “no more”. She pleaded and begged and sobbed and eventually screamed and abused me.

‘Then I started getting these apologetic emails from her. “You’ve helped me so much and I was so ungrateful.” “I’ve been feeling so down lately.” She didn’t ask for money until the third or fourth, but by then I’d worked out that they didn’t quite sound like Leanne. I realised I wasn’t reading my daughter’s attempts to rebuild our relationship. I was reading Joe’s attempts to manipulate me into giving them more money.’

‘He wrote them?’

‘Yep. Then the following year, he dumped Leanne again. Broke her heart again. I hoped she might come home and get clean then, but … well, it was probably unrealistic to expect her to be able to give up her two great loves at the same time.

‘When he got out of rehab and came back here, everyone, including you, was so “ra-ra!” for him. “Go, Joe!” Rallying round him like he was a returning war hero, not a criminal who destroyed my daughter’s life.’ She shook her head. ‘Why should he get a happily-ever-after while Leanne is still in the pit? I left the note on his doorstep because I wanted him to know that someone remembered what he’d done.’

‘And with the note, the heroin?’

‘That was later. When Leanne came up here two weeks ago she was in good spirits. She spent a couple of days moaning in her room, which was good because it meant she was detoxing. Then I filled her up with healthy food, and we went for walks along the beach. Then she went off to do the interview for that prick’s podcast, returned in a foul mood, obviously upset, and asked me to drive her into Woy Woy. I knew she was going to score, so I refused. She got an Uber. She was gone for two days. Using because of Joe. Again. I guess that was the last straw for me.

‘Gary gave me the idea. Accidentally. He came into the shop, said he was worried that the pressure the cops were putting on Joe might push him to relapse. So, I thought, why not make it easy for him? I’d got the dealer’s number from Leanne’s phone ages ago when I had this stupid idea to pay them not to sell to her. I realised it wouldn’t work because they’d probably take my money and sell to her as well. Anyway, I bought a few doses of heroin from them, enough to get him going again, added a syringe I bought online to make it easy for him, and left it in a bag at his front door.’ Sue realised how callous she must sound. ‘But I just wanted him to relapse, not die.’

‘He obviously didn’t take it straight away,’ said Barb.

She wore the same placid expression she’d had since she’d arrived, but the friendliness had gone from her eyes. It was as if Sue was looking at a sculpture of her face, technically accurate, but lifeless.

‘But he didn’t throw it out either,’ continued Barb. ‘Then he became a suspect in Karen’s death. All that stress. And there it was.’

The enormity of it sat between them on the coffee table.

‘Are you going to tell the police?’ Sue asked.

‘You didn’t murder him. You just handed him the weapon. Buying heroin is a crime, but apparently quite a minor one these days as long as you’re not in Bali. Is leaving heroin on his doorstep a crime? I don’t know.’ Barb stood. ‘I do know that Joe was doing well. It might have been his fault Leanne started using heroin, but it’s not his fault she’s still taking it now. It’s up to Leanne if she wants a second chance, isn’t it? Just like it was up to Joe.’

*

After Barb left, Sue stared at nothing, feeling heavy, empty, worthless. She had killed someone. She hadn’t meant to, but deep inside she must have known it was a possibility. At the very least, she had known that if the heroin she left for him restarted his habit, he would have a vastly increased chance of an early death. Her eyes found the photo she had avoided before. Her holding the hand of six-year-old Leanne as they waded at the jetty. Where had that girl gone? There was no becoming hardened to it when she looked at that picture.

She slapped the sofa cushion. She had been so stupid. Joe’s death had just made everything worse.