Bright Air - Barry Maitland [13]
‘Resolved? But—’
‘Oh, I know it has in a legal sense, but emotionally, you know? For us. We feel a kind of guilt.’
‘We all do.’
‘But you went through it all at first-hand. It must have been terrible for you, but at least you can feel you did what you could. We just weren’t there.’
‘So, what, you want me to tell you about it?’ He glanced pointedly at his watch.
‘We’d like to get hold of the police report to the coroner. The full report. That way we can understand exactly how it unfolded.’
He looked startled. ‘Really? Well, I suppose you could apply—’
‘We don’t have a direct interest,’ Anna broke in. ‘I mean as far as the coroner’s concerned. I understand the Coroners Act provides that an interested person can apply to the registrar of the local court for a copy of all or part of the coroner’s file, but they have to show sufficient cause.’
This sudden display of homework, delivered in a low rapid voice, was rather jarring, and undermined my attempt to sound casual. ‘I don’t think we’d be successful,’ she went on. ‘But you could get it. You’re a lawyer.’
‘Commercial lawyer,’ he murmured, frowning at a coaster on the table between us.
‘Still, you must know people who know people. Your father-in-law’s very highly regarded, I believe. I’m sure you could get a copy for us.’
He looked from one to the other of us. ‘Is that really necessary? I can show you newspaper cuttings I kept …’
‘We’ve seen the cuttings,’ Anna persisted. ‘We’d like more detail.’
He took a deep breath, thinking, raised his glass to his lips, placed it carefully back on the table, then said, ‘All right, I’ll see what I can do. I can’t promise, but I’ll do my best. Okay?’
‘Thanks, Damien,’ I beamed, surprised.
‘And now I really must get back. Great to talk to you both again. You look as if you’re working too hard, Anna. Maybe you should do a bit of climbing with Josh, now he’s back. I’ll be in touch.’
We watched him leave, and I took a deep breath. Anna gave me a tight, expressionless look and said, ‘Now I’d like a vodka tonic. You?’
‘Yeah, me too.’
I made to get up, but she waved me down. ‘I’ll get them.’
When she returned with the drinks I said, ‘Sounds like you’ve been doing research, about the Coroner’s Court.’
‘One of our residents worked there for thirty years. She filled me in.’
‘So, did he pass the test?’
‘What do you think?’
I shrugged. ‘He was reluctant, but that’s understandable. Yes, I think he passed. You?’
She sipped her drink, staring into the far corner of the bar, then said, ‘No. I didn’t think he passed at all. I bet he finds it’s impossible to get hold of that report.’
4
The hotel became busy again that week and into the next, and I put in a lot of time helping Mary with the daily routine, filling the hours in between with overdue maintenance work. I cleaned out the gutters and repaired a section of uneven paving in the small garden below the terrace at the back, and as the days passed and I heard nothing I began to think that the whole thing had fizzled out. But I still had Anna’s file of cuttings, with their photos of Luce and the others, and when I went up to my attic room at night it was impossible not to turn them over, again and again.
I first set eyes on her at a summer wedding on a beach. It takes a lot of organising to have a wedding on a Sydney beach, and friends and relatives had been out there since early morning, roping off the designated area, raking the sand, setting up flowers. I didn’t really know the couple, but had agreed to accompany my then girlfriend. Unfortunately our relationship had unravelled in the interval between the invitation and the event, so that things were a little tense by the time we arrived at what we both agreed would be our last outing together.
Everyone was dressed up for the occasion, the men of the wedding party in their fancy shirts and ties, the women in elegant gowns and hairdos, but everyone was barefoot on the sand, the celebrant included, and this gave everything