Catch (19 page)

"Thank you, Catherine.
 
Now I know why we hired you."

"Yes, well, I don't know how she slipped through my net. I must have been having a bad day."
 
She shrugged.
 
"Never mind, onward and upward and all that.
 
Oh, and Matt..."
 

When he looked up Catherine had a strange, knowing look on her face. She said, "I don't usually comment on personal matters..."

"But - " he smiled " - in my case you'll make an exception."
 
He thought he saw a slight chink in her office armor.

"Yes, in this case I'll make an exception.
 
I suspect your lady knows exactly the beast she's living with and you won't have to worry about any poisonous remarks coming out of young Gina's mouth."

He laughed.
 
"It's unlikely she'll be my number one fan now, is it?"

"Precisely."

When Catherine left his office Matt felt suddenly drained and very alone.
 
He peered out the window, the view of the ocean calming his jangled nerves.
 
Gina was probably heading home, boiling with rage, to tell Tamsen what had happened.

The dilemma.
 
Should he call her first and warn her?
 
She was involved.
 
Well, sort of.
 
Wasn't she?
 
Why was he never able to have anything that resembled an uncomplicated relationship?
 
Was he some sort of freak who attracted drama?

His gut ached.
 
It was always the way.
 
Where the hell was that antacid?
 
He rummaged around in his drawer, certain there was a half-open packet lying around.
 
Nothing like tension to bring on another atrocious acid attack.
 

Locating the desired tablets, he popped a couple and tried hard to think about what he should do next.
 
Gina was a loose cannon and he'd just given her a hundred and one reasons to explode shit all over him.
 
No matter which way he looked at the situation, anything he did could be construed as wrong.
 
He was fucked.
 

His door burst open and Danni shattered his thoughts.
 
"Whoa, she took that well.
Not.
"

Matt sighed.
 
"I thought I asked you to stay on reception."

"Catherine sent me on my way, so I thought you could take me out for the sticky bun you owe me - you know, for covering for the wicked witch from the west."

"Danni, don't be so frivolous."
 
He was feeling lousy and the post-execution reports weren't helping.

"What did you do to her? She left with a hiss and a roar - positively toxic."

"
Danni
."

"Come on.
 
You can debrief me down the road.
 
We're better off without her, you know that."

He did know that.
 
He was just worried about Tamsen.

"He's a fucking creep.
 
You should be ditching him."
 

Gina's bellowing was so out of order.
 
Tamsen had been late for an installation and knew her customer wouldn’t be happy.
 

"He's nothing of the sort and I won't be ditching him."

"But you don't understand.
 
He sacked me."

"You quit."

"Only before he had the chance to sack me."

"Gina, hasn’t it ever occurred to you this is what happens with every job you ever get?
 
Matt and I have nothing to do with it."

"If you weren't shagging my boss this wouldn't have eventuated."
 
Gina guzzled a glass of wine, then hastily refilled her glass from the cardboard cask on the kitchen bench. The ruby liquid formed a tiny whirlpool in her goblet.

Tamsen watched her with a mounting feeling of dread.
 
Why didn't Gina simply stick her mouth under the cask tap and save on the washing up?
 
The amount she drank was phenomenal and must be adding to the chaos in her life.

She told Gina, "Your problem is not the job, nor my boyfriend."

"Boyfriend, now.
 
We're past the casual fucking stage already, are we?"

"I'll treat that with the contempt it deserves."
 
Tamsen could have quite happily clobbered her, but pressed on.
 
"Your mother's right, your problems come out of that cask and from those druggie girlfriends you spend all your time with."

"Great. So now you're going out with a fucking lawyer you think you're a cut above me, do you?" She added as an afterthought, "And you can leave my slag of a mother out of this as well.
 

Tamsen sighed.
 
"Gina, you must be able to see how out of control your life's getting.
 
If you're not drunk you're hung over, or out looking for something to take the edge off. It's not surprising Matt put two and two together.
 
How many days have you had off sick in the last six months?"

"You would spring to his defense, and after all the years we've been friends.
 
If you were any sort of a friend you'd get rid of him. He's a bastard."

"Gina, he's not a bastard."
 
Tamsen was getting tired of the argument and began to think Gina would never see sense.

"Well, if you're not going to dump him you can forget all about our trip to Wellington."

"What!"

"You heard me.
 
It's him or me."

"Gina, don't be ridiculous."

"I'm not being ridiculous.
 
If you want me to come away with you, you'd better kick him into touch."

"I won't be blackmailed."

"Fine, then."
 
She had a look of utter disgust on her face, one Tamsen hadn't seen in a very long time.
 
"You've made your choice.
 
You'd better see if Mr Wonderful will accompany you, 'cos I certainly won't be."
 
Gina stormed out of the kitchen, but not before snatching up the cask of wine Tamsen noted with dismay.

The kitchen looked like a bomb-site with half-eaten scraps thrown over the bench and red wine dribbled down the cupboard doors and over the floor.
 
No shock there, Gina got nearly as much over the floor and herself as she got down her throat these days.
 
When had it all started going so horribly wrong?
 
They'd been friends for years.
 
Was it something that she'd done, Tamsen wondered.
 
Did it really matter?

Anger burning in her gut, she set to work cleaning up the mess Gina had left.

How many of these messes - actual and metaphorical - had she cleaned up?
 
Her own life was beginning to look up, yet here was the same pattern kicking in again - Gina having a crisis, and Tamsen putting her own life on hold to bail her out.
 
Maybe it was time to take a stand.

"Stuff it." Tamsen addressed the black ball of fluff who was busy licking a hardening blob of peanut butter off the tiled floor. "It's time to look after me."
 

The cat looked at her with his huge yellow eyes. "And you, of course."
 

Azzie twined himself around her legs, making her think of a quote she'd heard somewhere, something about carrying a cat by the tail and the lesson learned. It all became clear: she would do nothing about Gina.
 
Gina would have to sort out her own problems.

She took another look at the shambles that was their shared kitchen and decided she hadn't made this mess either and set out for her room with a new lightness of spirit.

"Come on, Azzie. You and I have got plans to make for the rest of our lives."

The drive home hadn't eased Matt’s guilt.
 
All reason and logic assured him he'd done the right thing but his insides still howled at him.
 
The afternoon had dragged. Part of him wanted to the day to end so he could see Tamsen and explain; the other part never wanted it to end so he wouldn't have to.

"Matt, is that you, darling?"
 

Shit, Mother.
 
He'd almost forgotten she was still here.
 
If she’d dared to have Angie here again he really would just throw himself off the nearest retaining wall – if he could find one.
 
Why were the gardeners taking so long to finish the job?
 
He made another mental note to get on their case tomorrow.
 
Tamsen had walked into his well-ordered life and everything seemed to be falling apart.

"Yes, Mother, it's me."
 

He walked through the open door to be assaulted by the tantalizing scent of cooking bacon.
 
His mother appeared in full kitchen regalia, complete with his barbecue apron.
 

He couldn't help laughing. "Smells as if you're cooking my favorite."

"Well, darling, that is if Beef Wellington is still it."
 
She smoothed her hands over the rough surface of the apron.
 
"Things seem to have changed so much it appears I hardly know my son anymore, and he's not willing to share with me what's going on in his life."

Matt set his features, resolving not to react to anything she had to say.
 
He'd learned the best way to keep her out was to never allow her to see what had got through his defenses.
 

Thwarted by his silence, Marguerite said, "So can I assume that you'll be staying home tonight and your dear old mother can have the pleasure of your company?
 
Or are you likely to run off again?"

Matt could almost taste the blood in the back of his mouth from biting his tongue.
 
"That's fine as long as it's only us, Mother."

"There's no need to use that tone, Matty.
 
Angie's a lovely woman and I still can't see why you've decided that you'd rather spend time with a fish breeder than with her."

"Who told you about Tamsen?"

"It doesn't matter who told me.
 
The point is I'm just trying to prevent you from running your life."

"More like stop me bringing the family name into disrepute."

"Well, I'd be lying if that wasn't a factor."

"Mother, do you realize how shallow you sound?"

"Quite frankly, Matthew, somebody's got to keep an eye out. You seem hell bent on destroying yourself and everything that this family's worked for all these years."

He could have kicked himself; he'd been sucked in again and now he wasn't able to let it go.
 
"I. Am. Not. Destroying. Myself."
 

The knot of tension in his stomach was crippling and the gorgeous cooking smells coming from the kitchen weren't helping.
 
He had a ludicrous desire to laugh.
 
His mother was accusing him of destroying his life and all he could think about was that he hadn't had lunch.

"I'm not discussing this with you any more, Matty.
 
I don't intend tarnishing our evening.
 
And I'll certainly not be responsible for driving you back into that unsuitable woman's arms two nights in a row."

Despite the goading he held his tongue, and secretly had some pride in himself for doing so. "I'm assuming we've got at least an hour before dinner so I'll be going downstairs for a quick workout."

He pecked her unceremoniously on the cheek and shot through to change.

Matt lay in bed, aware he was grinding another layer of enamel from his molars. His stomach was full, but so was his head and the dual combination was giving him trouble.
 
Tamsen hadn't called all night and he was paralyzed with fear, torn between an urge to ring her and fear of making their situation worse.
 
Though how much worse could it be?

He had no idea what Gina might have said. He was a lawyer who supposedly dealt with facts, concisely thought things through, and here he was behaving like a lovesick schoolboy.
 
Unable to work out where the land lay with Tamsen because he was too scared to gather the simple facts.

It was far too late to phone now anyway.
 
He'd just have to continue to stew about it.
 
His specialty.
 
Years of practice.
 

He sighed, rolled over onto his stomach and vowed to call her first thing in the morning.
 
Now, if only his head would just shut up and his stomach would settle down he might have a chance of a semi-decent night's sleep.

Goddess, I'm lost.
 

Tamsen closed her journal, sighing heavily.
 
She had a feeling of grief about her today, no doubt aggravated by Gina's noisy all-night drinking binge.
 
The kitchen still looked like a bomb had hit it – well, it had, in the form of Gina.
 
Tamsen had held firm on her decision not to enable Gina by picking up after her.
 

But it truly was a difficult thing, only looking after yourself when you were used to mothering another human being.

Two sharp beeps from his cellphone alerted Matt to the incoming text message.
 
Please let it be Tamsen, he thought.
 
He'd been pretending he was coping with her not returning his call but he wasn't fooling anyone, especially himself.
 
He'd learned recently that if he couldn't be honest with himself then he really didn't have a chance.

He could have kissed his phone, - she'd agreed to meet him for coffee in just under an hour.
 

Thank God he didn’t have to wait any longer; his stomach wouldn't hold out. He'd been through half a packet of antacids already this morning.