Page 19 of Where She Is
I’m not as surprised as I pretend to be when I reply with “Oh?” I have a good idea who he’s talking about.
“Come for a drink and I’ll fill you in.”
I am knackered, but I feel I owe him a drink at least. “All right, but just one. I have to be here early tomorrow.”
We head to a bar in George Street. It can get pretty lively here as the rush of office workers pop in for a quick drink on their way home, but at the moment, it’s early enough to get a table. We order a bottle of red between us, but I don’t want to make a night of this. I’ve already decided to finish the wine then skedaddle. I’m exhausted and I don’t need a hangover to contend with in the morning. I have a heavy workload. However, I am curious to find out exactly what Daniel said to him over the weekend, but before I draw breath, Matthew spills the beans and relishes every word.
“So, let me tell you about a fascinating conversation I had with Daniel Grant.” I notice his tongue lick the inside of his smirked cheek. I haven’t forgotten the way Daniel spoke to him that night and although he promised to apologise, I’m not sure he did. Right now, I understand why. Matthew can be a little… irritating. I try to see the good in everyone, but his abrupt manner and the way he talks over my unfinished sentences is nothing short of rude. His arrogance and current sense of gloating are also testing my patience. If I didn’t know better, I’d say he’s going to enjoy this conversation.
“He told me to leave you alone, except he wasn’t as polite asthat.” I can just imagine how that went as I momentarily feel awful for Matthew; but that’s all it is; momentary. He doesn’t give me the opportunity to apologise properly and is in too much of a hurry to tell his side of the story.
“I’m sorry he said that to you. He was wrong and—”
“Oh God, Hannah, it’s fine, don’t worry. You can’t really talk back to Daniel Grant. It was easier to go with it. By the way, where did you disappear to? Don’t tell me you left with him!”
Well, this is awkward. How do I answer? I can see Matthew’s eyes light up with the prospect of some prime gossip. “Oh, I wasn’t well. I had to go back to my room and then—”
“Shame, you missed a brilliant night.”
He believes me, thank God. I don’t care that he interrupts this time. The sooner we get off this subject, the better.
“So why didn’t you make it for breakfast on Sunday and you missed the tour. What happened?”
God, he’s nosey and I bet he’s waiting for me to trip myself up. “Richard and I had work to do, so we left early.” Obviously, I don’t mention how I had to beg Richard to get us back to the city because I’d forgotten about a faked previous engagement. It seems I’m telling little while lies left, right and centre at the moment.
“We took a fantastic trip to the Jenolan Caves and then onto the Blue Mountains. It was incredible. Are you familiar with the story of the three sisters, Hannah?”
My thoughts are interrupted. Damn it. I should take more notice. With his lips pursed, he then says, “The three sisters who were turned to stone? No?”
God, he can be condescending. “No. I don’t think I know it, Matthew. Please enlighten me.”
He does when he air-quotes, “It’s a ‘must see’ landmark. Perhaps we could go together sometime?” His blue eyes test me. We both know it won’t happen, but I still say, “I’d love to thank you.”
Matthew continues his lecture about the trip and I realise how much of a pompous twat he is. As I lose interest, my thoughts are elsewhere until he rapidly changes the subject from the tour to the man.
“So, what is going on with you and Grant?”
I shake my head. “Sorry, what?”
“Daniel. I thought he was going to flex his muscles when he warned me not to talk to you. I wondered if you two were together before last weekend, you know, if he already had a claim on you.”
My voice shakes. “We’re not together and I’m not sure why Daniel felt he had to do that. I’m so sorry he was rude. Did he apologise to you? I asked him to after the way he spoke to you before dinner.”
“Oh yeah, he apologised, if you can call it that.” He necks a whole glass of red like a depressed cowboy throwing whisky down his neck in a crap spaghetti western.
“I’m so sorry Matthew, I—”
“Stop apologising. Nothing happened between you two, right? Not that it’s any of my business if you did, but I care about you, and I wouldn’t want you to get involved with a druggie.” Bombshell successfully dropped, and my stomach plummets.
“Sorry, what did you say?”
His eyes never leave mine while he pours the wine. It’s impressive because somehow, he knows when to stop pouring. The table shudders as he slams the bottle down, causing his wine to overflow slightly across the rim. A look of pure satisfaction darts across his mouth while he imparts his sordid information.
“Didn’t you know? Oh God, it was the talk of the city, apparently. He got in deep with some top society dealers and was in real trouble. His family bailed him out in the end—got him on the straight and narrow, but his wife? Well, she was the biggest druggie of all. A total smack head and completely beyond help.”
An icy shiver runs all over my body and I’m slightly dazed, but he won’t shut up.
“The rumour is, she committed suicide. An overdose by all accounts, but there was never an official statement. No one really knows for sure. Terrible business really, and he’s still not right. You might have noticed his absence from the office? It’s all drug related. He doesn’t trust himself not to go on the hunt for his old Sydney acquaintances. I’m surprised you don’t know this, Hannah.”
