Emily Wearing put her arm through her husband’s. ‘Shall we go?’
The city at five in the afternoon, bustled with pedestrians and traffic as they made slow progress through its streets.
Emily Wearing turned to James and smiled. ‘How’s Catherine, dear? I’ve telephoned her a few times, but haven’t managed to catch her.
‘She’s doing well, considering. Eve’s been a godsend, of course.’
‘I’m sure she has but, at a time like this, I think Catherine needs family around her. I’d like her to come back to Port Macquarie with us after the funeral and stay for a while, until this whole investigation is finished. It can’t be pleasant for her here at the moment.’
James thought about the letters Catherine had received from the bank and finance companies. He knew she could not get away until she had seen to the matter, but decided not to mention it to his mother. ‘Well, you can ask her tomorrow.’
‘Won’t we be seeing her tonight?’
James looked across at his father, noting his sunken eyes and pallid face. ‘No, Dad. I thought after your flight, it might be wise to have a quiet evening. I told Catherine we’d see her in the morning before the funeral.’
Emily Wearing caught James’s eye. ‘I think that’s best. Your father and I are both tired.’
The air felt cold and damp when they got out of the taxi in front of James’s house. James opened the front door and they stepped into the warmth. ‘Oh, that’s better,' sighed his mother. 'I’d forgotten how cold it can be in Sydney in July.’ James put the bags down and helped his mother with her coat.
‘Harold. You’re tired. Why don’t you go into the living room and I’ll make you a nice cup of tea.’
‘Stop fussing, Em. I’m not tired and I don’t want tea.’ Harold Wearing handed James his overcoat and walked into the living room.
Emily Wearing shook her head. ‘Oh, very well. Have it your way.’
James listened, thinking how familiar his parents sounded.
‘Perhaps you’d like a whisky, Dad,’ he said.
‘Sounds like a good idea.’
James looked around at his mother, who stood next to the desk. ‘Mother, what can I get for you?’
Emily Wearing turned, Louise’s photograph in her hand. ‘Oh, nothing for me, dear. I’m going upstairs to change while you and your father talk.’ She put the photograph back down, touched James’s arm and left the room.
Harold Wearing settled himself into an armchair. ‘She’s as bossy as ever, but having said that, she’s a wonderful woman. These past few weeks can’t have been easy for her, what with my heart attack and Alex’s death.’ James handed his father a drink and they sat in silence for the next few minutes.
‘It’ll be good to see Catherine again. The last time we saw her was about nine months ago when she and Alex drove up to see us. They were such a devoted couple.’ James knew his parents believed the happiness that Alex and Catherine had presented was real, and he decided to leave it that way.
Harold Wearing took a sip of his whisky before putting his glass down on the table next to his chair. ‘I want to ask you about the investigation while your mother’s out of the room. No point in upsetting her with all the details.’
‘I didn’t come all this way to be kept in the dark about what’s going on, Harold.’ At the sound of her voice, James and his father looked around to see Emily Wearing coming back into the room with the evening paper under her arm. She glanced at James, put the newspaper on the coffee table, and sat down on the sofa next to him.
‘I just don’t want you getting upset, Em.’
‘We’re all upset, Harold.’
‘Very well.’ Harold Wearing looked back at James. ‘Have the police recovered the weapon?’
‘Yes, they have.’ James hesitated. ‘It was found on my desk when I arrived back from Melbourne.’
Emily Wearing
The city at five in the afternoon, bustled with pedestrians and traffic as they made slow progress through its streets.
Emily Wearing turned to James and smiled. ‘How’s Catherine, dear? I’ve telephoned her a few times, but haven’t managed to catch her.
‘She’s doing well, considering. Eve’s been a godsend, of course.’
‘I’m sure she has but, at a time like this, I think Catherine needs family around her. I’d like her to come back to Port Macquarie with us after the funeral and stay for a while, until this whole investigation is finished. It can’t be pleasant for her here at the moment.’
James thought about the letters Catherine had received from the bank and finance companies. He knew she could not get away until she had seen to the matter, but decided not to mention it to his mother. ‘Well, you can ask her tomorrow.’
‘Won’t we be seeing her tonight?’
James looked across at his father, noting his sunken eyes and pallid face. ‘No, Dad. I thought after your flight, it might be wise to have a quiet evening. I told Catherine we’d see her in the morning before the funeral.’
Emily Wearing caught James’s eye. ‘I think that’s best. Your father and I are both tired.’
The air felt cold and damp when they got out of the taxi in front of James’s house. James opened the front door and they stepped into the warmth. ‘Oh, that’s better,' sighed his mother. 'I’d forgotten how cold it can be in Sydney in July.’ James put the bags down and helped his mother with her coat.
‘Harold. You’re tired. Why don’t you go into the living room and I’ll make you a nice cup of tea.’
‘Stop fussing, Em. I’m not tired and I don’t want tea.’ Harold Wearing handed James his overcoat and walked into the living room.
Emily Wearing shook her head. ‘Oh, very well. Have it your way.’
James listened, thinking how familiar his parents sounded.
‘Perhaps you’d like a whisky, Dad,’ he said.
‘Sounds like a good idea.’
James looked around at his mother, who stood next to the desk. ‘Mother, what can I get for you?’
Emily Wearing turned, Louise’s photograph in her hand. ‘Oh, nothing for me, dear. I’m going upstairs to change while you and your father talk.’ She put the photograph back down, touched James’s arm and left the room.
Harold Wearing settled himself into an armchair. ‘She’s as bossy as ever, but having said that, she’s a wonderful woman. These past few weeks can’t have been easy for her, what with my heart attack and Alex’s death.’ James handed his father a drink and they sat in silence for the next few minutes.
‘It’ll be good to see Catherine again. The last time we saw her was about nine months ago when she and Alex drove up to see us. They were such a devoted couple.’ James knew his parents believed the happiness that Alex and Catherine had presented was real, and he decided to leave it that way.
Harold Wearing took a sip of his whisky before putting his glass down on the table next to his chair. ‘I want to ask you about the investigation while your mother’s out of the room. No point in upsetting her with all the details.’
‘I didn’t come all this way to be kept in the dark about what’s going on, Harold.’ At the sound of her voice, James and his father looked around to see Emily Wearing coming back into the room with the evening paper under her arm. She glanced at James, put the newspaper on the coffee table, and sat down on the sofa next to him.
‘I just don’t want you getting upset, Em.’
‘We’re all upset, Harold.’
‘Very well.’ Harold Wearing looked back at James. ‘Have the police recovered the weapon?’
‘Yes, they have.’ James hesitated. ‘It was found on my desk when I arrived back from Melbourne.’
Emily Wearing
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