Chapter 15
Chapter Fifteen
I walked out of the hospital like I was walking on air. The truly rotten moments in my life were forever going to be behind me. Finally, I had a purpose.
I strode to a waiting taxi and jumped in. “Take me to the nearest police station please.”
The driver glanced at me in the mirror, then said, “You got it,” and shot out of the parking bay like his life depended on it.
Fifteen minutes later, I was greeted at the police counter by a young man in uniform who actually looked like he was pleased to see me.
“How may I help you?”
“I think I have some information about a robbery that happened a long time ago.”
“Righty-ho.” The police officer picked up the phone on his desk, and a short while later I was seated in a tiny room across from Sergeant Donovan—a middle-aged police officer who either forgot to shave that morning or was going for the rugged look but was yet to master it. “What have you got?”
“Do you want the short story or the long story? ”
He cocked his head. “I’ll take the short story any day.”
“Okay. May I get some things out of my pack first?”
He nodded.
I leaned over to my side, plucked out the photo of Rob and placed it on the table. “This man’s name is Robert Mathieson.” I unfolded the newspaper and pointed at the article in the corner. “He robbed this jewelry store in Toowoomba twenty-five years ago.” I opened the velvet pouch and spilled the necklace onto the table. “This is one of the items he stole.”
Sergeant Donovan looked at the items and then at me. “Okay. Now I need to hear the long story.”
I smiled at him. “I thought you might say that.”
“Just start at the beginning.”
“Well, there’s actually two beginnings. My birth, and my recent reunion with my mother. I’ll start with my mother.”
Over the course of the next hour, I summarized the key points for Sergeant Donovan. He was an excellent listener and jotted down several pages of notes. He asked a lot of questions about where we’d lived in my childhood, and fortunately for him, my photographic memory came in handy.
“When I found that necklace, it all slotted into place. I confronted Mother with my assumptions, and she surprised me by admitting it was true. Trust me. She’s very good at lying. So now, here I am.”
He held up a finger. “Let me just check on something first.” He reached for the newspaper. “May I?”
“Yes, of course.”
Plucking the newspaper off the desk, he left me alone in the room with my clanging thoughts. But it wasn’t my rotten couple of days with Mother and her fucked-up idea of what being a family meant that burgeoned in my brain. Nor was it what I had to do once I left here .
It was Roman.
In particular, it was how he spoke about his family. He loved them. And although I’d never met them, I already knew that they all loved him from the way he spoke of them, and how they looked after each other. I wanted to see that.
No, I needed to see that.
But most of all, I needed to see him.
My thoughts drifted to that one perfect night when he’d said he loved me. The way he’d said it, loaded with deep sincerity, suggested it was true.
It had to be. He would never say that if he didn’t mean it.
I needed to know why he’d acted like he did when he found me in his bed. His rotten rejection had hurt my feelings, but it didn’t diminish my love.
For my own sanity, I had to tell him I loved him—one thousand percent, crazy, head-over-heals loved him. No matter what the outcome.
And as soon as I sorted all this shit out with Mother, that was exactly what I was going to do. I still had ten weeks left on my visa. First chance I got, I was getting on a plane to London.
The door cracked open, and Sergeant Donovan entered the room along with a middle-aged woman. She leaned forward, offering her hand. “Hello. I’m Detective Pauline Flanagan. Sergeant Donovan tells me you have quite a story.”
Detective Flanagan was a woman who looked wise beyond her years. Her eyes were bright and inquisitive, confirming she was the right person to talk to. She sat and whistled at the necklace. “That’s a beauty. Any idea why your mother never sold it?”
“No. Lord knows she could have used the money. My guess is she was too scared.”
“And so she should be. Did you know the jewelry store owner never recovered from that coma? He died three months later.”
I clutched my hand over my mouth. “Oh no. That poor man.”
“This case went cold a long time ago. Thanks to you, we may be able to give some closure to his family.”
“I hope so. If anything good comes from this, I hope it’s that.”
“Right. Well, let’s start with this guy.” She shoved the photo forward. “He’s your father?”
“Yes. No. Well, maybe.” I shrugged and huffed. Deciding there was no point hiding the truth, I said, “I was conceived in an orgy. Apparently, he was one of the four men.”
Both Donovan and Flanagan reacted, him with bulging eyes, her with a dropped jaw. Flanagan looked at Donovan. “That’s a first for me. How about you?”
He cocked his head. “Yep.”
I couldn’t help but smile. My list of firsts kept on giving. “I’d like for him not to be my father. But I guess that’s something I’ll never know.”
“Any idea who the other men were?” Donovan asked.
I shook my head. “They were coal miners. Fly in, fly out. Mother doesn’t even remember their names or what town she was in when . . . when it happened. At least, that’s what she said. She’s notorious for lying, and very good at it. I went through her whole trailer looking for stuff I could ask her about. Oh, will you need to do that? Search her trailer?”
They looked at each other again. Flanagan fiddled with the necklace. “I think this is going to be all the evidence we need. We will have to talk to her though.”
“Right. Well, you’ll need to be quick. She’s terminal with breast cancer, and the doctors can’t give any indication of how long she’ll live.” I relayed which hospital she was in and the room number. And as much as I’d have loved to be there when they visited, I intend to never see Mother again.
It was another three hours before they wrapped up interviewing me. But I still had a question of my own. “May I ask a favor?”
Flanagan nodded. “You can ask.”
I smiled. “Okay. My mother ran away from home when she was fifteen and she said she hasn’t seen her parents since then. I never knew they existed until yesterday. Anyway, I think they should know their daughter is dying. Would you mind passing that message on to them? Just in case they are still alive and they want to see her.”
She cocked her head, her eyes capturing me with a look of curiosity. “You don’t want to talk to them yourself?”
“No. After what they did to Mother, they are nothing to me.”
“Is that another story we should discuss with your mom?”
I thought about Mother’s genuine sadness when she talked about Lily. As much as it was hurtful to dredge up that horrific moment in her life, I sensed she also wanted to talk about her sister. Mother did like to be center stage. I nodded. “I think she’d be happy to talk about it.”
“I will do that for you. Are you right to get home?” Flanagan asked. “We can have one of our officers drive you.”
“No. No. I’ll get something to eat first, then get an uber.”
We all stood, and Flanagan placed her hand on my shoulder. “You did the right thing bringing this to us.”
“Thank you.”
“I will contact you when I have some information. You’re not planning on going anywhere, are you?”
My heart stopped. “Well, yes. Actually, I was. I’m heading back to Europe as soon as I can.”
“Can you delay your departure? Just in case we need to get in contact. ”
A wave of anguish washed through me, rendering me numb as I nodded.
It was after nine o’clock when I finally left the police station. Detective Flanagan assured me once again that I’d done the right thing, and after she directed me toward a decent restaurant, I walked away.
Before long, I was seated at an Indian restaurant. The music emanating from hidden speakers was the typical twangy tune that suited the setting, but it also took my mind right back to Stinky Skunk House—the marijuana tea shop in Amsterdam where Roman had taken me.
Nearly everything I did reminded me of him.
Of us.
My heart wept all over again.