Chapter 30
The Grand Hotel was an imposing two-storey building with wrought-iron verandas at the top of Manning Street.
The gritty sound of Cold Chisel greeted Nel as she pushed open the heavy door and did a quick check for Ryan.
There was no sign of him. She chose a high table by the window and sat down with her back to the wall.
The crowd was mainly tradies with weathered faces, still in work boots, their energy revived by the cold beer.
A group of men in hi-vis shirts leaned on the bar, schooners in hand, congratulating themselves on making it through Monday.
Three young women with smoky eyes and glossy lips sat at a table by the fireplace.
Nel looked out the window, cupping her hands to see past the reflection of the room into the darkness of the street. Was Ryan out there, watching her?
The heavy door swung open and Jimmy entered wearing a navy duffel coat over a white t-shirt. Off duty. He caught her eye and gestured to ask if she wanted a drink.
Beer, she mouthed.
Nel watched the barmaid as she laughed at something Jimmy said and reached for two glasses. Where did Nel know her from? Then she realised it was the woman who had greeted her at The Larder a few days before.
‘Do I know the barmaid?’ Nel asked when Jimmy reached the table and placed a schooner in front of her.
‘Yeah, that’s Harry,’ he said, taking off his coat. He kissed Nel’s cheek and sat down on the stool next to her, facing the room.
Nel tried to remember a Harry. ‘Who?’
‘Maddie’s friend. Harriet.’
It took a moment for Nel to make the connection. She widened her eyes, dumbfounded. ‘That’s Harriet? The emo from the ice creamery?’
Jimmy laughed. ‘Her emo days are long gone. She’s the licensee of this place, runs it with her wife.’
Nel looked back at Harriet, trying to reconcile this tall confident woman with the pale listless girl she remembered.
*
A bass beat pumped like a pulse beneath giddy voices as Nel stumbled over the uneven sand. Where was Maddie? She scanned the skull-like faces, the glow of the bonfire making black holes where eyes should be, and spotted Harriet.
‘Harriet!’ she called, walking over. Maddie was bound to be close by. Harriet’s parents owned the ice-cream parlour and Maddie and Harriet had become fast friends in the month or so since Maddie started working there.
‘Nel, hey,’ Harriet said in her usual bored tone, pushing her long dark fringe out of her eyes. The orange glow of the fire reflected off her piercings.
‘Have you seen Maddie?’ Nel asked.
‘She’s here somewhere.’
Harriet looked around as Maddie emerged from the crowd. She put an arm around them both, stumbling.
‘Shit, Maddie,’ Nel said, pulling her back onto her feet. ‘How much have you had to drink?’
‘Sorry, Mum.’ Maddie rolled her eyes and looked at Harriet. They both laughed.
Nel managed a forced smile, trying to ignore the sting of jealousy she felt whenever Harriet was around. She’d never been the odd one out before and she didn’t like it.
There was a cheer from a group of boys, hooting and clapping as Ryan Warner sculled a beer. Maddie watched him, her eyes glassy in the firelight. Was she about to cry, Nel wondered? But then her face hardened into something else.
‘Hey, guys!’ Maddie yelled, defiant.
Ryan and his mates swung around. When Maddie saw that she had their attention, she pulled Harriet towards her and kissed her deeply on the mouth. More hooting and clapping. Nel felt jealousy ripple up again.
Ryan stood among his cheering mates, glaring, stoney-faced, then threw his empty beer bottle into the fire and walked into the darkness.
When Maddie pulled away, she looked in the direction Ryan had gone, her mouth turned up ever so slightly into a smile. Harriet’s eyes were still on Maddie.
*
The memory lingered as Nel watched Harriet, who was using a remote control to change the channel on the TV above the bar. A woman with long hair said something as she passed her. Harriet laughed. Was that her wife?
‘So what’s going on?’ Jimmy asked.
‘What?’
‘You said you wanted to tell me something?’
‘Oh! Yes.’ Nel refocused her attention on Jimmy. She reached into her bag for her phone. ‘Poppy’s been receiving anonymous emails.’
‘Saying what?’
She showed him the first screenshot. ‘This was the first one, last Tuesday.’
He read the single line of text and shrugged. ‘Teenagers send each other all sorts of shit like this.’
‘Swipe to see the next one.’
He did so. ‘Yeah, probably just a stupid kid.’
‘I thought so too, but then she got another one.’ Nel reached across and swiped to reveal the most recent email. He read it, frowning, then slowly raised his eyes to meet hers.
She glanced around the bar and lowered her voice. ‘I think it’s Ryan.’
He listened with raised eyebrows as she told him about Ryan’s surprise visit to the clinic.
‘I checked his record,’ he said. ‘He has an assault conviction.’
‘He does? Was Sophie the victim?’
Jimmy shook his head. ‘He was charged after a fight right here in this fine establishment five years ago. I asked one of the guys up at Mount Clare what he knew about it. Story is, Ryan thought the other bloke was coming on to Sophie so he beat the crap out of him. He was the father of one of their kids’ schoolfriends.
Nel’s chest tightened. Another red flag. ‘Did he get jail time?’
Jimmy scoffed. ‘He got off on a good behaviour bond due to strong character references.’
She looked back at the screenshots on her phone. ‘Is it possible to trace this sort of thing?’
He tilted his head to one side. ‘Yes and no. Gmail doesn’t include the sender’s IP address.
’ She had no idea what he was talking about.
Her face must have conveyed this, because he explained.
‘That means the best we can do is trace the server the email was sent from, rather than the specific computer. Gmail’s different from other web-based email in that regard.
Even if we got a court order to force Google and the sender’s internet provider to give us any additional user information they have, it’s not likely to help us much. ’
‘Why not?’
‘Because the sender would have provided bogus personal info when they set up the account. And the internet service provider, Telstra or Optus or whoever, is legally required to provide the name and address linked to the IP address of the server where Gmail was accessed. Unless the sender’s a total moron, it’ll be a public wi-fi network, like at a library or a cafe.
’ He took a sip of his beer and wiped his top lip.
‘At this stage, we wouldn’t have enough to get a court order anyway. ’
‘But she’s a fifteen-year-old girl, Jimmy! Are we just meant to ignore this?’
‘I know it seems crazy. This is the problem with the internet. People can get away with all sorts of shit because they’re anonymous.’
She shook her head.
‘We can trace it anyway,’ he said. ‘But best not to get your hopes up.’
She sighed and took a sip of her beer. ‘Did you get a chance to speak to Frisk yet?’
‘I spoke to him this morning. He gave me the go-ahead, but there was a crash on the Mount Clare Road this afternoon so I didn’t get up there today. Hopefully I’ll have time tomorrow.’
They sat in silence.
After a moment, Jimmy put his hand on Nel’s. ‘Do you want me to do anything about Ryan?’ he asked. ‘I could have a chat to him, tell him to keep his distance so it’s on file if he does anything else.’
‘No. I don’t want him to think I’m scared of him.’ She drank the last of her beer. ‘Because I’m not,’ she added, striving for a confident tone despite the ache of doubt in her stomach.
She looked back at Harriet, who was behind the bar again.
‘Do you think she was in love with Maddie?’ Nel wondered aloud, thinking about that night at the bonfire party.
For Maddie, the kissing was performative, designed for the male gaze—Ryan’s gaze—but perhaps it meant more for Harriet.
‘I wonder …’ She let her thoughts trail off.
Jimmy raised an eyebrow, waiting for Nel to say more.
‘I was just thinking … they were very close in those last few months. Do you think Maddie confided in her about the pregnancy?’