Bright Air - Barry Maitland [111]
‘Mary asked me to keep an eye on things. I really think this business …’ He hesitated, then seemed to think better of what he’d been about to say. ‘Mary tells me you’re considering your career options.’
‘Well, um, yes,’ I said, and then, since he seemed to expect something more, I added, ‘I enjoyed my experience in London, but I’m not sure that I want to continue in that path.’
‘The Venezuelan business, eh?’
I gawped at him.
‘Banker friend of mine at the club,’ he said. ‘He was one of the people your bank tried to cheat. He was interested when I mentioned your name, told me the story.’ And he proceeded to relate it exactly as it had happened.
I was shocked, though it all seemed rather trivial now, compared with everything else that had happened since. ‘They told me nothing would be said.’
He chuckled. ‘No use having an anonymous scapegoat. Wouldn’t be believed. You’re quite famous, apparently, in a select circle.’
I groaned.
‘Sometimes these experiences can be the most valuable. And not necessarily a liability—shows you were in the thick of it. Best to move boldly forward now. Put the past behind you.’
He’d been discussing it with Mary, of course, and this was now the official line. They were really talking about Luce, and my unhealthy obsession with her death. This had to mark the end of it.
‘My friend has an interest in a boutique investment company. They specialise in ecological investments—carbon trading, stuff like that? I don’t pretend to understand it. But he thinks your background and experience might be just what they need. You might like to give this chap a ring.’
He handed me a card, just as Damien had once done. It had very discreet small lettering. I thanked him and promised that I would.
I assumed that was the heavy agenda business over, but then he came out with the big surprise.
‘Er, Mary and I have decided to get married, Josh. Mary wanted to tell you, of course, but I asked her to allow me …’
It was almost as if he was asking me for her hand or something, and I couldn’t suppress a big grin. He seemed discomfited by this response. ‘No, no,’ I said. ‘I’m just so pleased, Rory. For both of you.’ I didn’t go so far as to say I’d love to have him as an uncle.
‘I’m afraid it’ll mean letting the hotel go. Mary’s very reluctant, understandably, but you know about her heart, don’t you? The specialist’s told her she must take it easy, and I intend to make sure she does. I, too, will be retiring, from the bench.’
‘I see. Anyway, congratulations.’ I raised my glass.
‘Yes, well … it’s been a long time for both of us, but it’s never too late, Josh, that’s the thing.’
It’d be nice to think so, although Marcus wouldn’t have agreed. Several weeks later I got a call from Suzi. She asked how Damien was, and I told her that he was now at home. I pictured him in his wheelchair on his ledge on the twenty-eighth floor. His brain had been severely damaged by his heart stoppages, and he had not spoken a word since. He was not expected to improve.
Suzi explained that she hadn’t been in touch with anyone since she’d read about Marcus. She confessed that she’d never felt very comfortable with him. Then she asked if I’d like to call in for a cup of tea or a drink. I must have hesitated, wondering what this was all about, and she added hurriedly that she had a little problem she needed someone’s advice on, and she thought I might be the one.
I called in the next morning and she made coffee. Young Thomas was playing contentedly, a far cry from the screaming child Luce and I had babysat. We exchanged news without Suzi getting to the point of the visit. Then, when we’d finished our coffees, she asked me to come with her to the backyard, which apparently was where the problem lay. Beyond a sandpit and a small rectangle of grass, Owen had converted most of the backyard into an immaculate vegetable garden. Raised beds were lush with beans and tomatoes, lettuce and silverbeet, and though weeds had begun to invade since Owen’s death, it didn’t look too problematic to me.
Suzi led me down a central brick path towards