Exiles (Aaron Falk #3)(27)

Gemma was watching his face closely as she took a mouthful and chewed.

“Is it a move you wanted?” she asked.

“Yeah. I’d been trying to get on that team for a while.”

“Well, congratulations.” She tipped her glass to him. “That’s great.”

“Yes. Thank you.” He meant it, but she caught the undertone.

“Not what you expected?”

“Well…”

It was a good question. By and large, the job was what he’d thought it would be, he supposed. He’d known it would be a lot of work, and it was. But he’d wanted it. He’d pushed to be part of it. So yes, in that sense, it was both what he’d wanted and expected.

“It is. But it’s also quite—” Falk felt his phone buzz again. He placed both hands on the table to stop himself reaching for it. “—demanding.”

“Yeah. I can understand that,” she said in a way that made him think she actually could. “Be careful what you wish for?”

He smiled back. “Something like that.”

She topped up their glasses and seemed to decide something. “It was like that in California.”

“Yeah?”

“A bit. I’d really wanted to be part of it and the work was challenging and it pushed me in a good way, but—I don’t know—there were things I hadn’t really expected as well. The culture, for example. It was all a bit cutthroat because the tech bubble had been—” She shrugged. “Well, a bubble, with all the layoffs and job insecurity and losses and everything else that brings, so the whole industry was raw for a long time. I stuck with it for most of my twenties, so I had the full experience, but eventually I wanted a change, I suppose.”

“So you came back?”

She took a bite and swallowed. “Not at first. I did the traveling thing for a while, burned through some savings, let off some steam, trying to work out what to do next. I ended up in London and was at one of those Aussie backpacker parties. You know, where you go along with some random person from your hostel and end up seeing both your cousin and your high school nemesis?”

Falk smiled. She was playing it lightly, but it had been a happy memory, he could tell.

“Anyway, I went along to this thing and—surprise, surprise—I ran into this man I’d grown up with back in Marralee but hadn’t seen for a while. Dean Tozer. We reconnected, I guess.” She bought a moment by taking a sip of wine. Falk waited.

“Dean worked for an accountancy firm and had been seconded to London for six months, but he had a son—Joel—from a previous relationship. Joel was—” She counted back lightly on her fingertips with her thumb. “He was seven then. Living with his mum back here in Australia. But she was a dancer professionally and had been offered a steady role with a cruise ship line, so when I met Dean, he was about to head back to Marralee so she could take that up and Joel would live with him for a while. He left London, I hung back long enough to make it clear to myself and him that I wasn’t following him back”—she laughed—“and then obviously I followed him back. I wanted to, though. I was ready to be somewhere that felt more like home.”

The waiter swept by, and Gemma paused and fiddled with her glass on the table. Falk could feel a cloud gathering.

“So yeah, Dean and I were together, with Joel, of course, and then Dean died. And that was nearly five years ago now.”

Falk looked at her. “I’m sorry.”

“Thank you. It’s okay. I mean, it wasn’t, obviously, but it was a little while ago now.”

“Unexpected?” Falk asked, although he could guess the answer. This had been no gentle hospice goodbye, there had clearly been a cleaving in two. Before and after.

“It was an accident. So, yes. He was hit by a car. It was—” Gemma searched for the word. “Horrible, honestly. The police were involved. It was a really bad time.” She closed her eyes for half a beat longer than usual, almost like a tiny reset, then opened them and gave Falk a small smile. “I’m sorry, I’ve never found a good way to tell that story.”

“No. Well, some stories aren’t good ones.” They looked at each other over their unlit candle. Falk could see her sadness, tired and old, surfacing like it needed a glimpse of light and air before submerging again. “I’m really sorry to hear that, Gemma.”

“Thank you.”

He could tell she wanted to change the subject, and felt around for a natural link.

“So that’s when you started working with the festival? When you moved back?”

“Yes.” Gemma sounded relieved to be on firmer ground. “It was different from the tech stuff, but…” She shrugged.

“Kind of the point, I’m guessing?” Falk said.

“Exactly. I volunteered at first with the festival committee, and I was quite good at all the organization and planning so I got a paid job pretty fast. Took on some more senior roles within the team, and when the director role opened up, I got it.”

“That’s great. And you’re happy there? Not tempted to head back overseas?”

“No.” Gemma shook her head. “I suppose you can never rule anything out, but no. Joel and I did talk about leaving after, you know, Dean’s accident. Fresh start or whatever. But in the end neither of us really wanted to. Joel’s at school, he has friends, support. We both do. And Marralee’s a beautiful town, great community. I mean, Greg would tell you.”