Page 15 of You Can't Hurt Me

“That’s not how a scientist views it. We prefer our language to be objective.”

“Okay,” I sigh. “How did you react?”

“That’s better. Really, I just wanted to help her.”

“Of course.” I nod. The air traffic controller in my head starts to scream directions.Keep him talking about Eva. Keep him on track a little longer. Bring him into land. “You know, Jade was telling me earlier that Kath is pushing to reopen the inquest over Eva’s death.”

He slowly looks up from the table.

“I’m curious, what are you both hoping to prove in a new inquest, if it happens? Are you worried you’ll be implicated again?”

“Implicated?” His voice is low, eyes flashing darkly as he points to the printed questions in front of him. “This wasn’t on your list, was it?”

“It was a follow-up question. You can’t expect it to be a straight Q and A,” I say, reasonably, but instantly regret my words as his features harden into contempt.

“No. You’re done here.”

I freeze. The atmosphere is charged, ugly. The way he turns on me is so unexpected that, for a moment, I wonder if it’s really happened. He looks as if he’s about to lash out, stands up too abruptly and knocks his glass of water off the table. It smashes to the floor and he curses again, rifles through his jacket to locate a crumpled pack of cigarettes and strides out. “You lot are all the fucking same, aren’t you?”

I sit for a moment in shock, now alone in the study.

How dare he? All he had to do was decline the question. My hands tremble as I bend down to pick up the broken glass.My default setting, I think bitterly, always forced to navigate the periphery of male volatility, sweeping away the evidence. Nothing to see here. I tut, impatiently pick up the shards, but as I do, one of their edges nicks me. Beads of blood ooze from the cut, small but deep, on the pad of my thumb.

Slipping into the kitchen, I spot him through the open door, his somber outline a mass of negative energy hunched over a lighter. Jade is with him too. She must have heard the commotion and run to his aid. As if he is the one in need of help. How familiar their body language seems from this distance, her slim arm looped around his shoulders.

Nate turns around and catches my eye, steps away from Jade and rushes in. He glances at my thumb, the steady drip of blood down my inner arm.

“Christ, what happened?”

“It’s nothing. I was trying to clear it all up and...” My voice wobbles imperceptibly. “Have you got a plaster?”

Jade disappears and Nate instructs me to hold my arm up to stem the blood, fetches a first-aid box, plasters, antiseptic. I study him as he carefully applies a dressing.

“You know,” he muses softly. “I remember Eva standing here in almost exactly the same spot once after cutting herself badly. A broken wineglass, her foot was bleeding but she didn’t even notice...” I nod, make a mental note of this for my piece, as he passes me a glass of water and some acetaminophen. “You won’t need stitches, a minor laceration, we can safely say.”

I nod, relieved. His phone vibrates.

“Excuse me, I need to take this,” he says, walking back outside. I wait a minute or two before I follow him, slipping my recorder into my pocket. The smell of burning embers drifts over from a neighbor’s garden. He’s finished his call and leans back against the glass door. He offers me a cigarette.

“No thanks,” I say reflexively but immediately change my mind. “Actually, go on.” I haven’t smoked for years but something in me is tempted by the illicitness of it, the spontaneity.

“Anna, I’m sorry I lost it back there, it was unprofessional. You’re probably thinking, does he always lose his temper so easily?”

I look at him levelly. “And do you?”

“Never. It was a mix of a lot of things. It’s been so long since I’ve gone over all that. I—”

I let him finish but he can’t seem to find the words.

“I would have walked out of the interview,” I say, shaking my head slowly, “but I didn’t, because I assume that’s what you would have wanted. An easy way out. I wasn’t going to let you off that easily.” I pause. “You know by answering some of these questions, it could put you in a better light? I think if you’re honest, our readers will respect you for it. I imagine you’re not just doing this interview to sell this book, but maybe there’s another in the pipeline. Makes sense. Try to engage with the public again, regain their sympathy?”

“Impressive, Anna.” He smiles ruefully, then continues before I can protest. “Okay, well, let’s start again. You asked earlier if I’m on Kath’s side. The answer is, yes, absolutely, although I’m not sure she’s on mine.” He holds up a hand. “Actually, scratch that.”

“Sure. But if she isn’t, why is Jade here and helping out in the lab?”

“It’s something she agreed to a while back before—” He pauses. “Before I decided to write a memoir. It sounds like you’ve already put two and two together.”

“I think I read something about it,” I say, vaguely.

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