In Jeopardy Read online

  Richard steps closer. His face becomes blurred and distorted. Christine feels rank heat burst from his skin. His boozy breath becomes a cloying miasma. He shouts, ‘I’ll break your f—king worthless face!’

  ‘You’re playing a dangerous game…’

  ‘And – you – are trespassing. You have three seconds to get out or I’ll smash your face.’

  ‘This is my house. I like it here, especially with the changes you’ve made.’

  ‘Do you?’

  ‘So much so I will be spending the night here – I might even stay longer.’

  Richard grabs her by both shoulders and shakes her before she yanks herself from his grip. He lunges forward and this time holds her in his grip, shoving her against the wall beside the mantel piece.

  Unable to wrestle away from his grip, she is paralysed into a state of shock. She becomes a helpless ragdoll, unable to escape. ‘Got anything else to say before I smash your f—ken face?’

  ‘You’re a real hero, Banks.’

  Richard releases his grip and turns to where the voice comes from. His shoulders drop and his arms swing impotently by his sides as he watches Thornton applauds and walks towards them. ‘That was quite a show Banks.’

  Christine steps away from the wall. Heaven retreats from the corner. Seemingly recovered, possibly curious, she shoots Christine a venomous glare then shifts her gaze to Thornton.

  Richard finds his voice. ‘Who are you? What are you doing here?’

  Christine walks away from Richard. She stands next to Thornton, watches and waits for Richard’s next attack. Heaven moves up close to Richard who places an arm into the small of her back.

  ‘Nice trick Christine,’ Richard sneers. ‘He’s your fancy man is he? I see you’ve wasted no time.’

  Thornton looks at Christine, smiles and picks up her left hand. ‘Good guess Banks. Only regret is that I haven’t been able to put a ring on this finger – yet.’

  ‘Christine – you’re a filthy, lying rat. What sort of a game do you think you’re playing?’ He forms his hand in the shape of a gun. ‘You – fancy man – might like to know – she was a street slut when I rescued her from – a scummer’s life.’

  ‘Banks – it’s time you shut your mouth.’

  ‘Who is this idiot?’

  Christine ignores the question. She waits for Richard to press her further, make some demand or issue another threat.

  Strangely he remains silent. He glowers impotently at the couple facing him.

  Christine looks at Heaven and nods in her direction. ‘You, Fairy Floss – think you’ve struck gold. Wasn’t it a miracle that you encountered this heart-broken and fortuitously wealthy man? You’ve wasted no time giving my home a flash makeover and parking your car in my garage. Was the car a gift from lover boy? Did you think I would vanish – never to resurface again?’

  ‘Shut up Christine! Who is this man? Why are you here? Answer me Christine! Answer me you dumb whore.’

  What a laugh. How easy was this? Richard reduced to a raving idiot and Fairy Floss to a snivelling scrag. Yet she knows that without Thornton, Richard’s violent outburst could easily have resulted in a nasty assault.

  At the hospital Christine has often seen another side to mild-mannered middle-class men when the mask that displays polite public behaviour is pulled away. She has seen too many frightened women flee from these monsters who turn wild and dangerous behind closed doors. The aggressor often half admits to his violence by claiming provocation. Too often the victim, an abused wife, partner or girlfriend is barely conscious from being battered. Christine has seen enough tearful, hysterical brutes carry an injured partner into Emergency.

  Thornton’s presence renders Richard impotent. He resists lunging at the intruder and striking him. Surprisingly he doesn’t issue threats, but slams a fist into the back of an expensive new couch.

  Thornton walks up to Richard until he is an arm’s length away from him. ‘Tell me Banks – is this woman you seem to have taken up with a permanent fixture in this house?’

  Richard slams his right fist into his left hand. ‘Just you wait slut – you’re going to cop this in your face. Some time when your prince isn’t around to protect you.’ I know where you work and I’ll find out where you live.

  A worried expression works its way over Christine’s face.

  A wave of pleasure sweeps over Richard and his confidence returns. ‘Go on and worry Christine – I know where you live.’ I don’t, but I will find out.

  Her eyes flash fear and Richard smirks. Gotcha – you can spend the next six months looking over your shoulder. When I find you I’ll rearrange your face.

  Thornton produces a micro recorder from his jacket pocket. ‘Thanks Banks – that was one stupid move. All the information we need.’ It will be a pleasure to nail you to the wall arsehole.

  Richard rushes forward. Satisfaction switches to outrage and is now directed at Thornton who catches Richard’s clenched fist in his own hand. Richard strikes with the other fist and again is disarmed.

  ‘Get your stinking mitts off me – I’ll have you up for assault.’

  ‘You make me laugh Banks. I’m Christine’s solicitor. You’re legal representative will be hearing from me.’

  Under the night sky and street lamps outside of Christine’s house, an armoured knight on horseback canters past. He holds a white flag up high, embossed with a fire-breathing red dragon. The knight rides Victory’s horse.

  The words, Do you see that? almost escape Christine’s mouth. The figure dissolves into a cloud before breaking up and disappearing completely.

  Thornton touches Christine’s elbow. ‘Are you with me?’

  ‘Did you say something?’

  ‘Yes – and more than once. You were in another world.’

  ‘What did you say?’

  ‘Tonight you won the battle. You claimed victory.’

  ‘It doesn’t feel like one.’

  Although Thornton affirms that Christine handled the situation admirably and Richard is likely to be worried by her next move, she is shaken by Richard’s threats and can’t return to the hospital. Thornton tries to assure her that Richard will not be bothering her and that his words were those of a paper tiger.

  Unable to convince her, he jokes, ‘The hospital is probably the safest place to be.’

  ‘I don’t share your humour.’

  ‘On another note, I’ve worked up an appetite after tonight’s saga. Would you like to join me for dinner? Actually – I insist. You look worried again.’

  Silence fills the space.

  ‘Just say yes. I’m not going to bill you – just as I said I wouldn’t bill you for attending the drama at your house. Tonight we are going to celebrate our coup.’

  ‘Thanks for your offer.’

  ‘I take that as your yes?’

  Christine nods.

  ‘Let’s set the score straight. I owe you Christine. Tonight was fraught with risks. What we achieved tonight could have been a disaster. Instead we’re celebrating.’

  ‘Enough – don’t you think you’re exaggerating?’

  ‘You’re in a better position for taking this chance. We have likely shaved months off litigation. I bet we’ll nail Banks and gain you a greater financial share.’

  ‘Thanks.’

  Much of what unfolded that evening is a blur to Christine. She reasons that tonight Thornton, or indeed any man acting as her representative, could have persuaded her to sign her life away. She is beginning to realise that she is too dependent on a man to underwrite her life and make major decisions for her.

  ‘Now put on a cheerful face. I’m going to treat us to a meal at my favourite steakhouse. How does that sound?’

  She feigns enthusiasm. ‘Great, I think I can muster up an appetite to match yours.’

  ‘That’s the style.’

  She listens, laughs and engages in conversation with Thornton. He sums up Richard’s threats as no more than a foot stamping tantrum, posing no
real danger to her.

  As the evening in pleasant company draws to a close, Christine begins to dread returning home alone, expecting that Richard has hatched some menacing plan. It is unlikely he even knows where she lives, but she is not prepared to take any chances tonight. Returning to the house she once shared with Richard and confronting him has brought on a wave of nausea. She is tired and a nasty email from Richard would be enough to send her mind reeling and make it impossible to sleep.

  Thornton’s attempts to persuade Christine to return to the hospital fail. When he realises she is resolute he asks if she can arrange to stay with a friend or family. She explains that her brother is visiting Melbourne and staying at an inner-city hotel. Although it isn’t late she is reluctant to descend on her brother unannounced.

  Thornton proposes a solution then insists Christine take up his offer. ‘I will call the hotel your brother is staying in and book you a room there. You can meet up with him in the morning.’

  She hesitates; doesn’t want to become a burden where her brother feels obliged to her because she’s falling apart. She declines Thornton’s offer to drive her to the hospital to pack an overnight bag.

  At the hotel’s reception Thornton gains the attention of the distracted receptionist. ‘I trust you can arrange a room for my friend.’

  His optimistic demeanour and the triumph he won over Richard has rubbed off on Christine. He is refreshing company. His departure leaves her feeling empty; the party over and guests gone. Flat, faded decorations, stale food and half-drunk wine are the remnants of the night’s celebration and the coup.

  The hotel where Julian is staying is modern and exudes understated charm without seeming obscenely expensive. Alone in the pretty room, Christine misses Thornton’s company. Anxious and impatient to meet up with her brother, she can’t sleep.

  Chapter Twelve

  Julian doesn’t answer Christine’s calls. It crosses her mind that he has left without saying goodbye, even though she spoke to him the day before last. She didn’t tell her brother about Thornton’s plan, didn’t want to be talked out of his bizarre proposal. And there was her pride. If the plan failed she didn’t want her brother to think her foolish, gullible and easily manipulated by an attractive, smooth-talking lawyer.

  As Christine eats alone she is hit with a sense of isolation she wasn’t aware of until now. Richard’s final betrayal cuts deep. The raw wound has given way to numbness followed by an insidious discomfort. She feels betrayed by time itself that has crept away with small silent steps; a silent thief that has taken away chunks of her life without her even realising.

  She asks the twenty-something girl at the reception desk if Julian Francis is staying in the hotel.

  ‘We don’t give out information about other guests without their consent.’

  ‘I’m his sister.’

  The receptionist punches the computer keys. ‘Mr Francis is staying with us. This is the only information I can give you.’

  ‘He hasn’t returned the messages I left him.’

  ‘I can’t help you. I’m afraid it’s hotel policy.’

  She is overwhelmed by that same wave of abandonment and raw sting that Richard inflicted on her when he cut her from his life. She asks herself: is this a trick or some malicious and malevolent agent messing with my life? Was Julian charming the way Richard was once? Instead of insulting her as Richard did, has he left without a word?

  Worries about abandonment give way to panic. Has something awful happened to Julian? Has she been so engrossed in her own affairs that she hasn’t noticed anything beyond the minutiae of her own world? She cannot remember how long it’s been since she really read a newspaper. Perhaps her brother has met with some grisly fate and is about to become front page news or worse a small obscure item on page nine.

  Christine doesn’t notice that the receptionist is watching her and starts when the girl inquires, ‘Is there anything else I can assist you with, Ms Francis?’

  ‘I’d like a password to access my emails.’

  Julian’s message reads:

  I hired a car and will be out of town overnight.

  He leaves the name and number of the place he is staying at.

  When he returns from his out of town trip Christine fills him in with the drama that Thornton orchestrated.

  He listens without interruption then asks, ‘Didn’t you think I’d care enough for you to at least tell me about your plans?’

  ‘I don’t want to involve you in the saga of my broken life. As this awful process unravels it’s becoming uglier and nastier than I imagined it would.’

  ‘I’m concerned about your situation. To put it bluntly – I’m worried about your state of mind.’

  ‘There’s no need to worry. I’m able to look after my own affairs. I have a solicitor to handle the grisly stuff.’

  ‘And that worries me.’

  ‘What exactly worries you?’

  ‘Thornton’s plan was rash and foolish. If you continue to act on this kind of advice you are on a hiding to nothing. You could end up in serious trouble. This lawyer of yours is a real wide boy.’ This whole episode was just an ego trip for this Thornton. Either way he can’t lose; he’s going to be paid no matter what. Julian hasn’t met the man, but has an image of him as a dubious character.

  ‘I need a legal representative like Thornton. Without one, God help me. You don’t know Richard.’

  ‘Maybe I’ve been a bit harsh, but it would give me some peace of mind if I met your lawyer. I want to know that he’s looking after you during what’s a traumatic experience.’

  ‘Have you been through some similar kind of mess?’

  ‘Not exactly, but I’ve had my share of relationships that have ended badly.’

  ‘I never knew. Did you only ever give me the edited highlights of your life?’

  ‘Isn’t that what you’ve done?’ She’s always given the impression that Richard was charming and her relationship idyllic. It was one impressive cover story. It was either a perfect myth because he was so awful or she was so dazzled by him that she failed to see the real man.

  ‘Is that what you think?’

  ‘Does it matter what I think?’

  ‘I’m interested in your opinion.’

  ‘I’ve been reluctant to give it.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘Years ago I warned Diana against making a foolish decision that I knew would end in tears. She ignored my warnings and there were more than tears.’

  ‘I’m surprised. She gives the impression that she is all too sensible to throw caution to the wind.’

  ‘She wasn’t always.’

  ‘Like what?’

  ‘I can’t betray a sworn secret. All I can say is that when the situation soured, she made me out to be the villain.’

  As a nurse working in an Emergency Ward she could guess at Diana’s plight. Christine treated scores of girls who arrived at the hospital drunk and drugged up; victims of misadventure and predatory brutes. Most of these girls aren’t from unfortunate backgrounds or slatternly girls who invite trouble. Such violent encounters become secrets that imprint these girls with haunting memories. She has often wondered that when a patient dies from unknown causes that the catalyst has been from an earlier traumatic experience. How often has someone tormented by their past masqueraded to the world that their life is normal, even enviable, when it’s falling apart?

  Was Diana the victim of sexual abuse? Had such a situation made her aloof and defensive?

  Christine hid the skeletons from her own troubled life. Richard became a protector, his friends and social group became substitutes for her own estranged family. They tolerated her because she was Richard’s attractive wife.

  The hospital, too, offers Christine a protective wall where friendship presents little risk. Colleagues like her, she’s easy company and they respect her commitment to her work and the patients. Over the past ten years Christine has lost contact with school and university friends. They would s
truggle to know her now. And this is how she prefers the situation to remain especially now.

  Before she met Richard she was living with and engaged to Roland. They booked a world trip before getting married; buying real estate and having children compromised their freedom. Christine fell pregnant and Roland accused her of deliberately orchestrating it. He shouted, swore and smashed crockery against walls when she refused to terminate the pregnancy.

  The trip went ahead without her. Before she left Roland repeatedly accused her of attempting to shackle him to a child he never wanted. Following her initial shock, she was relieved to discover that he was a beast of a man who hid behind a mask. The polite, university-educated man she was going to marry was an act, and a fraud.

  Although each accusation and cruel words were knifes that struck her, this pain soon subsided when she left. What mattered was that she left an untenable situation. She sacrificed her deposit on the trip and considered this the price she had to pay to amputate herself from Roland.

  One late afternoon, before he left for the trip they planned he waited at the hospital for her to finish work.

  His unexpected appearance startled her.

  ‘What are you doing here?’

  ‘I want to say goodbye before the trip – want to let you know there’s no hard feelings. How about I take you out for a meal? You look pale and hungry.’

  She declined, suspecting he wanted to talk about the pregnancy. When further pressured she accepted. His pleas for her to abort the child failed. After the meal he offered to drive her back to the hospital and her car. It was a long walk back to work, but still early evening. Although she wanted to stretch her legs and mull over all that happened over their meal, he persuaded her to accept his offer.

  Once in the car, he locked her in.

  A gloomy silence pervaded the car followed by him fastening a pitying look over her. She turned away. He slapped her hard across the face. The side of her face stung red hot. As her eye welled up with tears blurring her sight, he wrenched her from the passenger seat in the car pressing her to him in a vice like grip. He spat the words into her ear, his gravelly voice drunk and cruel, ‘I’ll shut you up for good. You’re gonna pay for ambushing me – bitch!’