Selling the Drama (48 page)

"What do you want to talk to me about?"

"Us. You and me."

"Ah," Jenna replied. "Our mutual favourite
topic. This could go on for a while, we are pretty
spectacular."

Charlotte stared at Jenna, examining her,
cataloguing their similarities within a new light, seeing Toby in
their differences. Taking a deep breath, she let it out in a rush
before launching into it, blurting with no further thought, "We are
sisters."

Jenna's gaze met her own, no look of
surprise crossing her face, no outraged cry of injustice at being
the last to know; just a smile that told Charlotte she had already
known this for quite some time.

"You already know?"

Jenna nodded. "I've known since I was a
teenager. Grandma told me. She thought I needed to know, just in
case there was ever, I don't know, some kind of family emergency
where someone needed a kidney or something, whatever. Anyway, she
told me. And that was that. I got on with the rest of my life."

Charlotte was the one shocked now, funnily
enough, more shocked at hearing about this than she had been at
finding out the initial family secret. "Does Mum know you know?"
Toby had been adamant that Iris had not wanted him to tell
Jenna.

Jenna sighed wearily at that. "She pretends
she doesn't, but Grandma told her that she'd told me. So she knows.
We just perpetuate the farce. It makes her feel better to keep
regarding me as her sister and to be honest, I don't really care. I
had a happy upbringing Charlotte. I didn't miss out on not being
raised by my own mother. She was just fifteen when she had me. I
was better off with Grandma and Grandpa. It's never bothered
me."

"She treats you like shit," Charlotte
couldn't help but point out.

"She kind of treats everyone like that,"
Jenna countered, a wry grin playing about her mouth.

Charlotte nodded at that, the truth of it
hard to argue against.

"But when the chips are down, she loves
fiercely. And I feel that too. She's never excluded me from that.
It may not appear so to you, but me and her, we're good." Jenna
looked down at Bailey, her hand trailing softly along his arm.
"Chad and I couldn't do this without her."

"I know what you mean. Toby and I couldn't
have done it all ourselves either. She carried me for years."
Charlotte paused, biting her lip, considering the fallout of
telling her mother she and Toby had eloped in secret. "She's going
to be so pissed about the wedding."

"She'll get over it. Just don't tell her if
Bailey is asleep," Jenna replied, casting Charlotte a knowing look
that set them both off to giggling.

A few moments later, Charlotte felt brave
enough to broach the other half of the secret that hung between
them. "Do you know who your father is?"

Jenna shook her head. "No. Grandma never
said. I've never asked Iris. It doesn't really matter. I figured
that with Iris getting pregnant at such a young age, it was hardly
a relationship that had developed into anything that would result
in my father wanting an attachment with me. And he's never come
looking," she pointed out.

"Do you want to know?"

Jenna looked at Charlotte, her eyes
narrowing. "You know?"

"I do," she admitted.

Jenna made no response. When it became clear
to Charlotte that she was not going to, she decided to just spit it
out. "It was Toby's father."

This time Jenna's face did register shock,
her eyes widening, her mouth dropping open slightly. "Holy shit. I
have totally checked Toby out heaps of times!"

Charlotte burst into laughter, the
ridiculousness of their situation suddenly hilarious.

Laughing herself, Jenna continued, "With me
in the middle, you and Toby are like an incest sandwich."

Charlotte snorted in between her giggles.
"That is so wrong. Don't ever say that to Toby," she warned.

"When we all go out together and I see
someone I haven't seen for ages, I can be all, 'This is my brother
and my sister. They're married!'" Jenna's giggles were reaching a
higher pitch now, a tinge of hysteria within them.

They laughed for ages, Bailey sleeping on
throughout, tears streaming down both of their faces. Eventually,
they were able to compose themselves, wiping their tears away on
the backs of their hands, their movements so alike that to any
casual observer, there would never have been any doubt that they
were sisters, rather than aunt and niece.

"My father was not a very good man, was he?"
Jenna ventured after a period of silence between them.

"No," Charlotte replied. "But as it turns
out, neither was mine."

Toby pulled up behind Jake's car, cursing
under his breath. What the fuck? Looking around, he took in the
neighbourhood, knowing instinctively what he was doing here, but
hoping like hell he was wrong. His mind wandered to the photo
Charlotte had shown him, of Jake's wall, and as his eyes roamed the
street, they fell onto a familiar house. Gritting his teeth, he got
out of his car, making sure to check the lock activated, before
getting into passenger seat of Jake's car.

"Do you ever wear anything other than a suit
anymore?"

Toby looked at him wearily. "I've come
straight from work. What the fuck are we doing here?"

Jake inhaled his cigarette, his window open
just a crack so he could flick the ash out. Staring out of the
front windscreen, he spoke to Toby without looking at him. "In that
house over there, number nineteen, is the arsehole who murdered my
wife. Probably inside cooking up his meth, risking the lives of his
neighbours as he goes about his daily fucking business. I was going
to walk in there, put a bullet into his fucking head, and then set
fire to the place. But then, this little girl walked out about a
half hour ago, played in the front yard for a while before going
back inside." Jake turned to face Toby then, his face sombre. "You
see my problem?"

Toby felt the deep sadness emanating from
his best friend, so thick it resembled misery, like nothing he had
ever had the misfortune of having to endure. He could only in this
moment be grateful for that little girl. That she existed. That
Jake had seen her.

"I don't believe in justice like you do,"
Jake continued, smoking all the while. "I see it all the time,
people getting away with shit they shouldn't, getting off on
technicalities, all the hard work we do, wasted, for nothing. We
arrest them all over again and go through the same cycle, over and
over, same people, same crimes. There is no justice, only luck and
chance for the arseholes." He looked out of the front windscreen
again, finishing his cigarette in silence.

Toby did not believe in Jake's view, but he
understood it. Being a cop was a tough gig; Jake saw things he did
not, working at a different stage of the justice system. Generally,
Toby did not deal with the petty shit, it never got as far as him,
and the legal aid cases he did take were always of a particular
nature, crimes associated with domestic violence. He passed all the
other cases on, preferring to stick to what he was comfortable
with, his time limited enough as it was.

"What am I doing here, Jake?" He posed the
question carefully.

"I want you to go over to that house, knock
on the door, pick up the girl, and walk away with her. Put her in
your car and take her to the police station."

"That would be kidnapping."

"No," Jake countered. "That would be
rescuing."

"No." Toby watched as Jake crumpled right in
front of him, his head hitting the steering wheel, his fists
thumping his thighs. His crying was uncontrolled, the sort of
sobbing that leaves a person gasping for breath, unhinged for a
long time after. Witnessing it was no less devastating. Toby pulled
out his phone and dialled the direct number for the main police
station, preferring to speak to somebody he knew, somebody who knew
Jake and what had happened. Getting out of the car, he shut the
door and leaned against it, listening to the dial tone.

"Dart," he said, as soon as the phone was
answered and he knew who was on the line. "I need you to send some
cars around to where I am right now." He rattled off the address.
"I have Jake with me and we're sitting outside of the house where
the guy who stabbed Ellie lives. I can confirm there is a child
inside and I believe it may contain a meth lab." Toby listened for
a few moments before ending the call and getting back into the
car.

Jake was no longer sobbing, but he still had
his head resting against the steering wheel, his hands fisted at
his side. Toby reached over so he could rest his hand on Jake's
shoulder, the only comfort he could think to offer.

"Her life was worth so much more than this,"
Jake said, his voice thick with tears.

"I know," Toby replied, not without empathy
towards Jake for this injustice he had suffered. "But so is yours.
And I'm not going to stand up in court trying to get you out of
something that is impossible to get out of."

Within ten minutes, three police cars drove
into the street, lights flashing but sirens silenced. They circled
the house, getting into position before two of them knocked on the
door. The little girl answered, and one of the police officers
picked her up, hurrying away from the house with her, while the
other one entered. Seconds later a guy ran out the front door,
stumbling on the porch steps before regaining his feet, standing up
to look wildly around, his eyes passing over the sight of the
little girl over by the police car, still in the officer's arms,
crying loudly, her legs kicking furiously for release. There were
too many police officers surrounding him for the guy to do anything
other than stand right where he was.

Toby believed after that if it had been any
other criminal, they would have waited a few seconds longer, just
to be sure. But the sound of gunshots coming from the back of the
house, an indication of more than one occupant, threw everyone into
a panic. And what was believed to be a gun that the perpetrator was
reaching for up under his shirt, wedged into the band of his jeans,
turned out to be nothing more than a toy, perhaps a favourite one
that would have calmed his daughter down some. Toby wondered as he
watched it all unfold, did the guy think he was being arrested for
drugs, or did he know it was for the nurse he had stabbed? Did he
even remember her, with her bright blond hair and pretty smile,
always ready to help anyone who stumbled into the emergency room?
Did he know, as that bullet hit him in the leg, taking him down,
that he was unlikely to ever see his little girl again? And did he
wonder if it had all been worth it?

Charlotte and Toby sat in the public gallery
of court on the day Royce appeared before the judge to answer to
the charge of bigamy. It had been almost ten years since Charlotte
had last laid eyes on her father. He had aged some, but not
significantly. He had lost weight, and looked a bit fitter than he
used to. She knew which one was the new wife without needing Toby
to point her out. She found herself feeling curiously sorry for
her, as she sat there, the object of unwanted scrutiny, so far
removed from Iris, who was of course the very definition of poise.
Charlotte understood why her mother had felt the need to pursue
this, but she could not find it within herself to agree with her.
There was really nothing to be gained here, nothing but more pain,
and there would come a time, Charlotte was certain of this, that
her mother would regret taking this action.

Royce pleaded guilty and was sentenced to
twelve months prison with immediate release. His new wife wept with
relief, Iris did not, and Charlotte simply got up and walked
away.

Toby shook hands with the barrister who had
acted for Royce.

"Good outcome," the barrister said.

"Thanks. I appreciate you taking the case
on."

The barrister shrugged. "I owed you." He
looked down at Toby's leg with a brief and pointed glance before
turning away. "I think I still do."

Toby made no response. He watched as Iris
stalked past, a look of fury set upon her face.

The barrister shook his head. "Hell hath no
fury," he muttered.

"Yeah. Didn't work out quite like she'd
planned."

"Enjoy that then, for the next ten years at
family barbecues."

Toby snorted. "She's not going to let it go
that soon," he replied, chuckling, despite the gravity of the
situation.

Charlotte watched from the court steps as
her father emerged with his wife. They were met down on the path by
another woman, his wife's mother, by the looks of her. She held the
hands of two identical boys, their little faces lighting up as they
set eyes upon their father.

Their father.

Her father.

He turned then, his eyes seeking her out. He
raised his hand and gave her a small wave. She stared at him for a
long moment before turning away. Maybe one day she would seek him
out, meet his new family, introduce him to hers, but for today, she
did not want to see him again.

Toby held the screaming baby boy up against
him, kissing his angry little face before looking up at Charlotte
with a smile that hurt, he was grinning so widely. "Ashley is going
to be so pleased," he announced. "A boy!"

"At long last," Charlotte added, smiling
tiredly. "He will indeed. Until he realises it will be a few years
until he can do anything boyish with him and that when it comes to
a baby, having a brother is really no different to having a
sister."

"What are you naming him?" the midwife
asked, fussing around Charlotte as another nurse began to clean up.
"He's a big one; will grow up to be a strapping young lad, no
doubt."

Toby looked at Charlotte, who nodded at him,
a sad smile flitting across her face. He turned back, addressing
the midwife. "His name is Eli."