Medea's Curse (40 page)

Natalie hadn’t. It was Amber Long, looking contained. Nervous perhaps, but she held
herself very differently from the Amber Hardy whom Natalie had met two years ago.
It was hard to believe they were the same person.

‘He deserved to be locked up.’ Her tone wasn’t accusatory or angry, merely a statement
of fact. ‘I told him I’ll tell the real story about Bella-Kaye if he doesn’t plead
guilty. He won’t risk two murder charges.’

‘He won’t enjoy being in prison,’ said Natalie. ‘He’ll get a lot longer than you
did.’

Amber nodded. ‘He thinks the cops framed him. He’ll just try to get the best deal.’

‘You could have all got into serious trouble,’ said Natalie. ‘Your family still could.’

‘We’d all do it again,’ said Amber, arms folded.

‘I don’t doubt it,’ said Natalie. ‘To satisfy my curiosity, just when did this scheme
get dreamed up and by whom?’

‘After the shock—you know, hearing he’d got Tiph pregnant—I started to worry for
her. I talked to Mum and she said I should write to her. I sent the letter to Kiara.

‘Tiph didn’t do anything then. But later, Travis was doing the same stuff…he did
with me. Chloe was less than a month old when Tiph called me.’

‘Why did your mum come to see me?’

Amber stared hard, as if trying to make certain Natalie wasn’t trying to trap her.
Not as street smart as Tiphanie, but she’d learned. ‘When?’

‘As far as I can tell, as soon as she heard I was going to be involved.’

Amber nodded. ‘Yeah, she might have panicked. Always thought you could see through
people. Mum was right behind our plan from the start—well, Tiph’s plan really. I
think she wished it had been me that had done it. I guess we both wished that.’

‘So it was Tiphanie’s idea?’

‘No way was she going to stay with him,’ said Amber. ‘She hadn’t ever wanted him,
just Chloe.’ Amber’s voice caught. Whatever the plan had achieved, it still hadn’t
given her Bella-Kaye back. ‘Tiph thought, you know, that he’d stay with me. But when
I went to prison…well she couldn’t live with her mother, I mean her mother’s a shocker,
and she had no money and no car. And later, she knew she couldn’t ever leave Travis
alone with Chloe.’

‘So you decided to frame him?’

‘He did it!’ said Amber angrily. ‘He killed Bella-Kaye.’ She took a breath. ‘One
time, he pulled Chloe off Tiph and threw her. She hit her head. She was okay, maybe
because she was older than…’

‘Why Rick’s car?’ This was what had made Natalie suspicious initially.

‘We wanted the proof to be good enough without a body. Tiph thought if the blood
was in Travis’s car, they could say that it could have happened any time.’ Amber
paused. ‘So it had to be another car. Tiph knew Allison wouldn’t let Rick drive drunk,
and they always drink. So Tiph said she was tired and wouldn’t drop Travis off. After
he’d left, Mum picked up Chloe and took her home.’

The neighbours had been spot on. They
had
seen Tiphanie with the bundled up child,
and
it had been later.

‘My brother, Cam, disconnected the battery lead. He used the spare car key Tiph gave
him; went back after and put the lead back on. So it’d look like Travis was just
drunk and stupid. Tiph was sure Travis’d be too smashed to bother checking, but Cam
took the light globe out in the garage as well.’

‘How did the blood get on the blanket?’

‘Tiph waited until Travis was asleep. Got the keys to Rick’s car and…yeah. On the
seat too, but there wasn’t a lot of it.’

‘So the first part of the plan went as hoped but then things went wrong.’

Amber shifted uncomfortably. ‘We always thought Tiph should take the rap at first,
then once the blood was found they’d know it was Travis. When Tiph was charged with
murder instead of infanticide we freaked. It took them forever to work out he’d used
Rick’s car; Tiph didn’t want
to say anything. She thought it was important things
were dragged out of her gradually. Then they didn’t find the blood. I guess there
wasn’t enough. And someone had taken the blanket.’

Hence Tiphanie using Natalie as the messenger.

‘I never asked,’ said Natalie, ‘about how Tiphanie plans to get Chloe to Japan. I
get she has a job—but she needs a passport for Chloe.’

‘She’s using…’ Her voice caught. ‘Bella-Kaye had one for New Zealand,’ she said softly.
‘Same surname. Birth date was bit over a year apart but as long as she leaves before
she’s five she can have the same passport. Two, three years old. No one will notice.’

‘Amber, they’ll never let her travel with a different mother. Not a child of that
age.’

‘They won’t have to,’ said Amber. ‘I’ll go too. I just won’t return with…I’ll be
alone.’

And after that? Maybe Tiphanie would have found some Japanese connections to change
their nationalities. Maybe she wouldn’t ever come home, as she had said.

‘What about Georgia?’ asked Natalie. ‘Did you help her too?’

Amber frowned. ‘What do you mean?’

‘Ever talk about pink bunny rabbits?’

‘I never understood why she kept on about it. Celeste must have hit some sort of
nerve. Is it important?’

‘Not anymore. Good luck, Amber,’ said Natalie.

Amber looked at her sadly. ‘It doesn’t make up for everything, but it helps.’

Natalie went home via the pub and picked a bottle of the best champagne they had.
She would have liked to share it
with Liam but instead she headed her bike east.

Drinking Laurent Perrier straight from the bottle felt suitably anti-establishment.
Eoin would have approved.

‘I had to do it Eoin,’ she said, sitting as she always did with her back resting
on the gravestone. ‘Because it was the right thing to do.’

And it was. Travis would get some approximation of justice, Amber and her family
would have some closure, and, most importantly, Chloe would be safe.

She took another slug. ‘This isn’t bad but I’ll go back to bourbon. More me. I just
wanted to say goodbye to Liam with it even if he isn’t here. So.’ She took a drink.
‘Farewell, Liam. And thank you.’ Another. ‘And sorry.’

The gig was in Brunswick, at a pub they’d played often in the past, and Natalie was
grateful for the distraction. Music always helped. There was a song for every emotion
and experience, any number for lost loves and love that was never meant to be.

She was singing a Pink song when she caught him watching her: saw the pain in his
eyes. Damian had said something, then. She’d figured he would eventually. Damian
was the one who had found Bella-Kaye and it had gnawed at him. When she had asked
for the file, he wanted to know why; and if she could work out what happened, she
guessed he could too. Damian was too straight not to tell Liam they’d messed up with
the first child’s death and conviction. More to the point, to tell Liam that she
knew.

Liam was smart. He would have wondered why she hadn’t told him. Would have wondered
about patient confidentiality and what she was keeping back. He knew she had been
the one asking about Rick’s car—as did Damian—
and one or both would have gone over
and over it until they worked it out.

She couldn’t see his eyes as she sang, but she could feel his pain across the room.
Soon it would be anger.

He came backstage, no Vince to stop him, no Benny to protect her, and she was glad.
Not that the band wouldn’t have rushed to her aid but she knew the danger wasn’t
physical. He stood in the doorway looking at her. She met his eyes.

‘I just want to ask one question,’ he said.

She didn’t break from his gaze. She knew what the question would be. When she had
decided on what she was going to do—decided to put herself outside the law and her
profession—she’d had to ask herself how far she would go. Would she do something
that, unlike allowing Travis to be framed, compromised a central personal value?
And force Liam to do the same?

‘You were happy to trash my integrity,’ he said now. ‘The one thing that you knew
mattered to me, that kept me going in my job. After the fuck-up with Tim Hadden.
You
knew
what it means to me to only ever put someone away if they’re guilty of the
crime for which they’re charged. No exceptions.’

Natalie nodded.

‘Amber shouldn’t have gone down for the first charge; we could appeal her conviction
if she wanted. But ultimately that was her choice—she pleaded guilty. And it doesn’t
mean Travis should go down now. I could still get the whole thing thrown out. Withdraw
the charges. You know that.’

Natalie nodded again. ‘But you won’t.’

He paused. ‘You’d do it then? You’d hold our affair over my head?’

Worse. Over his children’s heads. Natalie knew how much he wanted his kids to have
the security he hadn’t.

She had said she would never tell Lauren, not even if her life depended on it, and
she had meant it. But it wasn’t her life that was at risk.

He stepped closer and she saw he had something in his hand. A thick post-pack envelope.
‘Your case notes. Your
own
case notes. I could have played hardball too.’

So Jay had sent him the hospital records from her psychiatric admission after all.
She wondered how long Liam had had them, whether he would have ever told her if the
circumstances had been different.

He looked at her for one long last moment, before placing the envelope on the table
in front of her. He turned and left without saying a word.

She couldn’t sleep. Damian had left a message on her phone but she wasn’t up to listening
to it. She felt the pain of her loss and Liam’s hatred; for a while it would outweigh
her conviction that sacrificing Liam’s and her own integrity had been the right thing
to do.

Outside her door she heard the mournful sound of ‘How do you
feel
!’ Wiping a tear,
she let Bob back in.

EPILOGUE

Travis took a deal for manslaughter and received an eight-year minimum sentence.
Natalie would have missed it if Damian hadn’t texted her to say it was on page five
of the paper. A week later she got a postcard:

We both love it here. Thank you for letting my child have a future.

No signature. Postmark Tokyo.

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

This book would not have been possible without the thousands of women whose stories
I have been privileged to hear over a quarter of a century working in perinatal mental
health. Every one of them has had a unique struggle that has helped me understand
depression, personality disorder and an array of other conditions, and how the past
impacts on the present.

I am indebted to the team at Text, in particular Michael Heyward, my editor Mandy
Brett, Lea Antigny, Jane Novak and Kirsty Wilson.

Special thanks to my first editor, Ruth Wykes, and first readers: Dominique Simsion
who encouraged me, saying
Medea’s Curse
was up there with the thrillers she read;
Sue Hughes—without her Bob would have been black, but apparently black cockatoos
don’t talk. Tania Chandler helped with structure; Karin Whitehead who also helped
with Bob and encouraged me to believe this book could be put alongside some of my
well-read heroes; Eamonn Cooke to whom I go for all things Declan and psychotherapy
related; Sergeant Michael Brayley who helped with police
procedure (any errors are
mine not his!); Adrian McKinty who was of the right age and Irish background to help
me with Liam’s chat-up line (in a class, not delivered personally). Thanks also to
Antoni Jach and his master class of dedicated writers whose feedback helped get the
manuscript to a new level: Josh Lefers (I borrowed his outfit for Shaun), Erina Reddan,
Emilie Collyer, Lisa Jacobson, Clive Wansbrough, Tasha Haines, Anna Dusk and Rocco
Russo.

Final thanks, which can never be enough, to my husband Graeme. When we first got
together he took it up to me: don’t just talk about writing a book one day—do it!
Life for us both has been a whirlwind since his novel became a bestseller. But he
has made time to support me and be ruthless while trying to make my book better—despite
my sometimes less than calm response to his suggestions (which are almost always
right!)…he is my muse, sounding board and soul-mate, and I am indebted.