The Soulmate(48)

He laughs, and once again I find myself admiring his face.

‘Put that in my letter,’ he says.

‘What?’

‘“Stayin’ Alive”. I like it. Ironic.’

‘I know, right?’

My chamomile tea arrives as he laughs again.

He’s done the unthinkable, I realise. I am relaxed. For several minutes I haven’t thought about Gabe, about Amanda or Max Cameron. I haven’t worried about the police, or the future. He really is good at this.

I sit back in my booth and lift the tea to my lips. I’ve just taken a sip when Max Cameron walks in.





46


AMANDA

AFTER



It’s satisfying to watch the moment Pippa notices Max enter the cafe. It’s as if she’s seen a ghost. She seems the type who’d be good at concealing her emotions – heaven knows, with a husband like hers you’d have to be – but at the sight of Max, her face drains of all colour.

Max hasn’t seen her yet. He’s come in to order a coffee. There’s a Nespresso machine at our Portsea house – not that Max would even try to use it. He’d already come to The Pantry last night to collect some dinner. Classic Max; once he is on to a good thing, he sticks to it.

What’s your plan, Max? I ask him silently.

He’s dressed in his version of casual – a pair of chinos, a white shirt, a navy V-neck jumper – but instead of wearing boat shoes he’s wearing his sneakers. He must be planning to do some walking. He’s been to the Gerards’ street last night and then again this morning, but he failed to persuade the neighbours to reveal Gabe’s address. Perhaps he’s headed to the trail behind the Gerards’ house, the one that leads to The Drop? That’s how I located them too. Any local person can tell you where The Drop is. Once you’re there, only two, maybe three houses have a direct view of it. I’d planned to try each of them, but I hadn’t had to. Gabe came to me! I suspect that he wouldn’t do that for Max, however.

‘Just a large flat white to go,’ Max says to the young man who greets him at the counter. ‘Also, I’m wondering if you could help me.’

The helpful man at the counter gives Max all the info he needs about The Drop, including a travel brochure with a map on which he draws a circle. Max is most grateful and when he pays for the coffee he adds a generous tip. He has no idea that Pippa Gerard is sitting just metres away from him. While he waits for his coffee, she gathers up her laptop and slips out the side door.





47


AMANDA

BEFORE



The funny thing was, in a way the Arthur Spriggs situation brought Max and I closer. We had survived an ordeal together. Faced a battle and won. We each knew the other cared and could be trusted. And it was then, after fifteen years of marriage, that our story began in earnest. More than just money. More than fidelity. More than just a transaction. It terrified me as much as it exhilarated me.

After that, Max came home for dinner on time. On the weekends, we went out, just the two of us – to movies and dinners and art galleries. We went on holidays – a resort in Bora Bora, a hike through Tasmania. For Max’s fiftieth birthday, we took the trip of a lifetime to Africa. We went on safari in Tanzania in an open-top bus, we ‘glamped’ in luxurious tents under the stars. We sat by the pool in Zanzibar. We picked out a tanzanite stone from a jeweller, and Max had it made into a necklace for me. I took photographs that would later win awards.

It felt like a honeymoon. It was the longest I’d spent with Max since we’d been married. The longest I’d spent with him ever.

‘Amanda,’ he said one night. We were lying on our plush camping mattress, talking in the early evening. ‘I was wondering. Do you still worry about me finding another woman? I know that early on in our marriage it was a concern of yours. I hope you don’t worry about that still.’

‘No,’ I said, realising it had been a long time since I’d thought about this. ‘I don’t.’

The day was fading, and the tent was bathed in a gorgeous soft light. It occurred to me that it was, perhaps, the perfect moment to tell him I loved him. I was fairly sure, after all this time, that my feelings were reciprocated. And yet, even as I opened my mouth, something kept me from projecting the words.

Love had never served Max or me. Max had lost his mother and his brother – the ones he loved most. And I’d watched love slowly destroy my mother. Maybe the key to our marriage was that we didn’t make loud proclamations? Maybe, for us, love was something to be whispered. Or, perhaps, never spoken of at all.





48


PIPPA

NOW



‘Sorry!’ I say to the car that screeches to a halt, narrowly missing me as I dart across the street without looking. Then, like a fool, I offer a wave.

The driver throws me a murderous glare as she drives away. I don’t blame her. I’d do the same thing if a pedestrian ran out in front of my car. But getting hit by a car was preferable to running into Max Cameron.

I’m shaking as I jog home through the back streets. I don’t think Max saw me, but I certainly didn’t look back once I got out of there. I didn’t tell Dev I was leaving either. He’ll probably think I’m nuts. I’ll have to tell him something came up. We were almost done anyway.