Authors: Lynette McClenaghan
Richard became an only child when his younger sister Sylvia tragically died. It was a sultry spring afternoon and the mercury was unseasonably high. After school Sylvia went to a friend’s house. She phoned to let their mother know she was invited over for a swim. The friend lived a few blocks away. Rather than return home first they wanted to enjoy as much of the warm weather as they could before it became dark.
Sylvia was also invited to stay for tea but Richard’s mother insisted she return home; made it clear she didn’t approve of an arrangement initially made without her permission.
Sunlight drained from the sky bringing with it a stirring wind and storm clouds. Sylvia wanted to leave when rain spilled from the sky. She wanted to escape the heavy downpour that would follow. Her friend’s mother reasoned the storm would blow over in minutes. The rain abated, the sky darkened and threatened more rain. Fearing a stern reprimand Sylvia was determined to make a dash for home. Partially blinded by the surrounding activity she raced along streets, darting across them. She reached the high street and was only a block away from home. She crossed the road thinking it was clear and was struck by a car.
She died instantly from wounds to the head. The elderly man didn’t see her and initially believed he struck a dog. He stopped, stepped out of the car not fully aware of the horror that confronted him. In a distressed state he waved down other drivers.
Richard was bitter towards his parents, believing his sister had been the favourite and despite her death decades ago, he still holds this grudge against them. Their loss resulted in them doting on Richard. They excuse unacceptable behaviour and acquiesce to almost all demands he makes of them, except handing over large wads of money. According to them he can do no wrong. They have protected and pampered him, turning him into a spoilt person who has high expectations of others but is not inclined to reciprocate.
Although they are not badly intended their propensity to comply with their son’s demands has resulted in them creating a monster. She imagines that Richard may well have salted away large sums of cash. He could have just as easily blown away a fortune on the secret sordid life that she knows existed throughout their marriage. Instead of confronting him she always pushed this matter from her mind. His assets are a wild card containing many possibilities.
‘Are settlement and divorce proceedings likely to drag out?’
‘Possibly, I cannot give you a finite time.’
Christine wants litigation to end. She wants her divorce finalised expediently if there truly is no chance of reconciliation. She is married to Richard in name only and this has been the case for the larger part of her marriage. The memories of her life with him have become a millstone she can do without. At this moment she wants to sever all ties with him – take her cut and run. ‘What’s the next step?’
‘We need a court application to grant permission to obtain details of transactions and to track cash withdrawals; it called a forensic audit.’
Thornton presents Christine with another possibility and warns her in advance that this option is unorthodox and comes with risks. He verifies with her whether she still has keys to the house and she confirms that she has. He says, ‘I’m surprised Banks’ legal representative has not requested you return these.’
‘That would be a bit cheeky given that I haven’t officially left and am still part owner of the house.’
‘Do you think your estranged husband has changed the locks?’
She hadn’t thought of this complication as she hadn’t until now considered the possibility of returning to the house.
With razor sharpness she counters, ‘A simple obstacle – I will call a locksmith.’
Although Christine has no idea where Thornton’s questions are leading it becomes clear to her that she has rights.
Richard has no right to change locks or to execute works to a property that is just as much mine.
Thornton clears his throat. ‘This is what I propose. You will return to the house to establish if cash has been spent refurbishing it. This could partly explain emptied bank accounts.’
‘Are you suggesting I sneak into the house alone, make a list of anything new, anything that’s changed?’
‘You read my mind. That’s exactly what I’m suggesting. I believe you will find more surprises than you expect.’
‘What do you have in mind?’
‘I don’t know. What I do know is that he has thrown you out of his life for another woman. It is likely that she is living in your home.’
‘I know exactly who it will be,
Doll-Face.
’
Well this could be juicier than anticipated.
‘This could be to your advantage.’
How does this improve my chances of getting my husband back?
‘Well – you’ll have a stronger case if he’s been spending your money on his new squeeze.’ He pauses. ‘You recall the emails you provided me with?’
She nods.
‘Banks demanded that you leave the house – your home. These were threats.’
Thornton reads her quizzical look.
‘Your estranged husband made unreasonable demands on you. The threatening nature of these presents us with the plausible claim that you left the house under duress. I propose that we add further weight to these claims.’
‘I don’t see how. Richard has complied with your instructions to not contact me. He’s not exactly violent.’
‘Ms Francis, you amaze me.’
‘Call me Christine.’
‘Okay – Christine. This guy abuses you, subjects you to his emotional outbursts then threatens you. Do you have another definition for this behaviour?’
‘Granted – he’s unpleasant and aggressive but he hasn’t broken the law.’
‘This is where you are wrong. By virtue of abusing and threatening you he has, and I plan to prove it. Therefore, I urge you to seriously consider the plan I suggest.’
‘I’m curious.’
‘You are to return to your house when Banks is not home to firstly verify that he hasn’t changed the locks. I assume he hasn’t. Consider the best point that you can enter the house without being noticed.’
Almost spellbound by what Thornton suggests, she listens without interruption. His proposal unfolds like a scene from a detective story.
As he speaks, she hears numerous miniscule sounds that are normally inaudible. She hears his watch tick. Her attention shifts to the silver band wrapped around his slender and tanned wrist. His hands are square and athletic. Although the fingers are long and slender they appear to be equal length to the hands. The watch’s face is large with silver numerals embossed into it. The fine cogs tap and swirl infinitely with precision that is testimony that this is an exquisite and expensive object.
He wears a white shirt and a metallic blue tie that team well with cufflinks. In seconds that spin into minutes Christine becomes lost in the details of Thornton’s appearance. She forces herself to redirect her attention to his proposal to avoid later asking a stupid question that will betray her inattentiveness.
His suggestions strike her with fear – they are fraught with too many risks. She rejects his proposal, yet at the same time he has amused her. The thought of catching Richard out quickens her with malicious pleasure. She relishes the idea of watching his smugness dissolve and his unquestioning control over her evaporate. She smiles at the thought of calling Richard out.
He wouldn’t expect me to challenge him; to play dirty the way he does.
‘I’ve finally given you something to smile about.’
‘You’re amusing.’
Christine’s smile turns to a frown. Images in her mind of Richard’s humiliation fade as quickly as they emerged and are replaced by a sense of defeat. Too afraid of Richard and the brutal tactics he might inflict on her, she must decline Thornton’s proposal.
‘I take it you accept my plan?’
‘It’s brilliant, but I can’t.’
‘Of course you can. This will do your morale the world of good to put one over Banks. There’s too much to gain and too much to lose if you abandon this opportunity. At worst, even if we don’t pull this off as I expect, we will show him you have some fang.’
Thornton rejects reasons against her returning to the house. He convinces her that she has actually stood up to her estranged husband. ‘Remember we are talking about your house and you have the right to come and go as you please. You’ve already shown him that you won’t be pushed around and this is just another step in putting him where he belongs and forcing him to play fair.’
Christine partially accepts Thornton’s summary of how she has handled Richard. Six months ago she would never have managed to tamper with his plans and so effectively outmanoeuvre him.
Street lamps are switched on; the house and garden are in shadow and light from inside bleeds out from the edges of closed drapes. There are four points of entry; the garage being the most strategic to avoid notice. The roller door is operated by remote control and Christine cannot use this option without being detected. She enters the property from the side gate. She flicks on the mini torch attached to her car key ring and lights a path to the door allowing her access to the garage.
Inside she avoids switching on the light. In the darkness she notes the outline of two cars. She flashes torchlight on them and sees a newish Audi A3. The other car is an open-top Mercedes
Kompressor. She is unfamiliar with both cars and their addition to the garage confirms that Richard has company.
Five knives hover above Christine’s head. She closes her eyes then opens them again. The knives have dropped; appearing menacing and larger than they were. She covers her eyes with her hands to block the image. She feels the knives press against her skull; she runs her hands over her head before inspecting them for blood. There is none and the knives have gone. Alone in the garage where she used to park her car, she hears words echo in her head,
betrayal – you are defeated – Christine.
She braces herself, anticipating fireworks when she bursts in on Richard unannounced. It’s anyone’s guess what will happen. She knows she will be outnumbered and expects she will face severe attack from him and likely his lover who is probably a permanent fixture in her house. She removes her shoes before entering the study, steps around a partially assembled model train set, careful not to upset its components and avoid announcing her presence.
From a crack in the door she listens to muffled voices. In the kitchen the range-hood hums and this drowns out distant voices likely coming from the lounge or dining room. She hears a squeal of laughter erupt. Her pulse races as she calculates that this might be the time to strike. She fears that if she delays for one second she will be too spooked to carry out the plan, and flee, unable to return. It’s a guarantee that her presence will disrupt their entertainment.
She pauses in the kitchen to soak in the surrounds. She notes fine bone china crockery she hadn’t seen before stacked on the bench and immaculate brushed steel cutlery. He’s wasted no time replacing items he claimed were of great value with those of much greater value.
She sees two figures through obscured glass panels set in the door between the kitchen and dining room. She moves from the kitchen to the hallway then into the lounge room ready to confront Richard who is in the dining room. He has transformed the house with new drapes and lounge
furniture. Clusters of ugly ornaments are cramped together in a new cabinet while others compete for space along the mantelpiece. Porcelain figurines of angels, dancers, Victorian damsels dressed in ribbons and hats, and ungainly new age fantasy creatures make up a mismatched assortment. A new grate encloses a robust and lively fire.
In a split second the idyllic scene Christine watches will be destroyed. She pulls out her phone and takes some happy snaps of the charming and much changed room. Still unnoticed she watches the romantic couple with their backs turned to her. They open boxes and bags. A charcoal coat with tags attached hangs over a chair. A long baby blue gown is spread over the table.
Richard is forty three and still has a full head of hair that had been gradually greying. Now he sports a sharp haircut with blonde highlights. Heaven is dressed in bright colours, soft fabrics and drips with shiny accessories. She appears no more like an engineer now than she did when Christine first saw her.
Richard holds a gift bag. ‘Close your eyes, this little treasure is worth waiting for.’
‘I hate surprises. They’re for little kids. Santa, the Easter fool and the tooth fairy suck.’
‘Now child, don’t be impatient, no foot stamping temper tantrum. I so love it when you lose it.’
‘Ha – I’m not going to perform for you today.’
Great to see Richard in good humour, a side of his personality Christine was rarely treated to. He was charming in company, reserving his irritated and snappy manner only for her. Oddly and perversely, Christine prefers the old Richard. She snaps a photo of the happy couple.
‘Not interrupting anything – am I?’
Their exuberance falls flat, both their faces drop and each mouth forms into an inverted U. For the initial split second Richard absorbs Christine’s presence as a dreaded thought that has crept into his mind rather than a material reality. He is only fully aware of Christine’s presence when he turns to
Heaven and notes that the colour has drained from her face. Her ashen look of horror is followed by a piercing scream.
Although Christine is outnumbered her sudden appearance gives her power.
Richard and his bimbo are my hostages.
She believes for the first time that she is no longer Richard’s victim. She determines that she will not cower from Richard, submit to his demands, his explosive temper and the threats he will no doubt fire at her once he recovers from his initial shock.
Richard rushes at Christine and bellows into her face. ‘What do you think you’re doing?’
She refrains from firing a volley of angry words back at him. Instead she lowers her voice to above a whisper, ‘Have you forgotten that this is also my house?’
‘You abandoned me in Sydney. When I returned you were gone and you emptied the house.’