Читать книгу Direct Action - J D Svenson - Страница 12

Following the sector’s recent privatisation, the newly-minted owners of the destroyed power stations were Chinese, and currently sat at Michael Roland’s glass-topped patio table looking decidedly anxious. Two pedestal fans and a portable air conditioner hummed beside them, and a spread of yum cha delicacies was mouldering untouched on the table. Around it sat a roll call of Sydney Partners relevant to energy law in the firm; with surprise Cressida noticed Pip was there, the only other Senior Associate. She sat on a seat between Brian and the air-conditioning unit, wearing her serious face. Cressida raised her hand in greeting, but her friend was engrossed in the conversation. She watched through the sliding doors from the kitchen for a moment, trying to assess the vibe. Butterflies flip-flopped in her stomach – the prospect of talking directly to a client when you weren’t a Partner, especially in front of those who were, was pretty intimidating. Still, she reassured herself, Michael seemed to think her China experience would mean something, so maybe that was her authority. Just don’t say anything stupid, she told herself. Her practice group’s supervising Partner, Richard, saw her through the glass and rose.

‘How’s it going?’ he said, entering the sliding door and joining her looking out at the meeting. He held a bottle of craft beer, its sides slick with condensation.

‘Chaos,’ she said. ‘You? Hey – how did you score that?’

He grinned. ‘Aha!’ He turned and opened the fridge behind them, revealing row on row of dew-sheened beverages. ‘Take your pick. Apparently Michael’s had an in-home Tesla for ages. Said AGL gave it to him as a bonus on their float in ’06.’

‘Michael’s got a powerwall?’ said Cressida, standing to enjoy the gust of cold air from the fridge for a moment. ‘How fortunate.’ She selected a bottle of mineral water and cracked its top with relish. ‘What about the spread? Looks like they got it catered by the local takeaway.’

‘Michael’s deep freeze.’

‘Hah!’ Cressida laughed. ‘Oh to be a Managing Partner. So – how’s it going out there?’

‘Enough kittens to open a pet shop.’ Richard shrugged. ‘Mainly because they’re sure their other plants are next.’

‘Seems reasonable. At least until someone’s in custody. Or, rather a lot of people, probably.’

Richard sipped his drink.

‘Yeah well. The client’s convinced it’s environmental.’

‘It fits,’ Cressida shrugged. ‘I mean, why would you bother otherwise? If it was just general bloodshed and disorder you wanted, wouldn’t you do something straightforward, like, I don’t know, a train station or something?’

‘Yeah maybe,’ he said. ‘Although apparently ISIL have claimed responsibility.’

‘ISIL,’ said Cressida. Her voice was flat.

‘I heard it on the radio this morning. Four people turned themselves in to Wyong copshop. They’re calling them the Climate Four. Didn’t say they were ISIL, but who knows?’

‘Yeah, great,’ she said, rolling her eyes. ‘I just figured with how nuts the greenies have been going on that big coal mine in Queensland, it made sense that it was environmental. Not that the greenies weren’t nuts already. Look at my brother.’

Richard laughed and rolled his eyes.

‘God.’ He shook his head with a laugh. ‘Is he still on that boat?’

‘It’s whale hunt season. He’s out there,’ she shrugged, feeling the same sense of annoyance she always felt when the topic of Jerome came up. There came an outburst in Mandarin from the terrace and they looked up; the man sitting next to the speaker echoed the other just as rapidly in English.

‘Hey I got your missed call, by the way,’ said Cressida, turning. ‘Was it urgent? I was going to call you back, but then there was this blackout thingie, and I didn’t get a chance.’

Richard laughed. ‘Well, God,’ he said, passing his hand over his face. ‘Now that you mention it, that might have hit the skids as well. How does the biggest transport project the state’s ever seen sound? I’m serious,’ he added, at Cressida’s come on look. ‘Bigger spend than the M one, two and four put together.’ He put his beer down. ‘InterConnex. They’re doing the extension into Victoria at last, and adding Queensland to it for good measure. Two fifteen billion dollars in value, big enough to make Coffs to Yamba look like a wallaby track. You as lead legal counsel on it, by the way. WestConnex loved you so much they told all their friends about you. Jesus girl, you look like I just said you’d won the lottery,’ he said, grinning. ‘Launch in eight weeks, PM’s invited, black tie, the usual. They want to officially issue the call for detailed proposals there – which means a draft T and C ready for review by the client in four.’

Cressida frowned. ‘And they’re not worried about, you know, this?’

Richard picked up his beer again. ‘They’re assuming the power will get sorted out in time.’ He shrugged. ‘And that it’s important to – or should I say, be seen to – get on with business as usual as much as possible, blah blah blah. Anyway – Brian’s set up an office in his basement, said you can work there. It’s either that or fly down to Melbourne with Tax, I’m afraid.’ He laughed, as they shared a look of mock horror. ‘At least until the power’s back on.’

‘But … I’m not a Partner yet,’ Cressida said, her mind yet devouring the possibilities. It wouldn’t matter that she was only an SA though, she knew. Pulling off a project like this would make her a serious acquisition – maybe even directly at Partner level – for any law firm in the country.

‘Oh yes, that,’ Richard said. ‘The vote.’ He paused, and looked at her with sympathy. ‘Look I did manage to have a quick chat to Michael, and he thinks we can get the Partners together again in—’

The sliding door opened and the Managing Partner stuck his head in. ‘Ah, Cressida,’ he said. ‘Can you two join us in here? Cressida – I was hoping you could run Mr Zhou through the planning issues for a potential rebuild. Best case scenario of course …’

‘Of course,’ said Cressida, finishing her drink. But she grabbed Richard’s elbow as he pushed himself away from the bench.

‘So,’ she whispered. ‘When?’

‘When what?’

‘The partnership vote.’

‘Oh,’ Richard said. ‘Cressida, you understand, it’s tricky right now … That’s really Brian’s decision. Okay, okay … I’ll ask him – we can try for, maybe, three weeks?’

She smiled.

‘Fabulous,’ she said, and stepped out into the patio. ‘Mr Zhou. Hi everyone,’ she acknowledged, shaking the CEO’s hand. A chair was brought and she sat down on it, giving the client her most winning smile.

‘Cressida,’ Michael began. ‘It was our Szechuan office in China you were in, is that right?’

She nodded. ‘Chengdu. Beautiful.’ The CEO laughed and said something to his translator. It sounded to Cressida like ‘that monkey prostitute’s asshole’. Oh yes. She had missed the richness of Chinese vernacular.

‘Cressida,’ Michael continued, ‘how can we fast track the red tape on your environment side of things for SinoGen? What’s the situation now that Part 6A has commenced? Would you mind running Terry through it?’

‘Certainly,’ she said, turning to the CEO. A fresh drink appeared at her shoulder and she took it, sipping delicately then placing it carefully on the glass. The man adjacent looked at her, ready to translate. ‘It’s okay,’ she said to him in Mandarin. ‘I speak Mandarin.’

At that, Mr Zhou’s eyes flew open and the two men shared a disbelieving glance, then the CEO fell back in his chair with a bark of laughter.

‘Oh thank God,’ said Mr Zhou in Mandarin. ‘Call me Terry.’ He sighed and shook his head, then slapped both thighs and laughed. ‘You would have heard me call Chengdu a whore’s asshole then. And you are not so stupid an egg as the rest of these chrysanthemum faces.’ The translator reddened and Cressida tried not to laugh. It meant having a face like an anus. ‘Anus vagina, someone said it takes two years to get approval?’ he said. ‘That’s fucking mad.’

‘Sorry,’ she said with a sympathetic smile. ‘There’s a lot of regulation in this country.’

‘But I don’t have that kind of time,’ he said, rolling his eyes in exasperation. ‘Fucking shareholders, you know, breathing down my neck.’ He glanced over at Michael and mimed a cut-throat motion with one finger.

‘Sorry,’ said Cressida to Michael. ‘Do you want me to translate?’

‘What? No, no,’ Michael said. ‘You just do your thing and let us know the upshot.’

She turned back to Mr Zhou. ‘Best guess for a switch-on date, assuming you get funding? Um … five years?’

His eyes flew open.

‘It takes at least two years before they’ll even pass the paperwork,’ she said. ‘You’ll have to wait for the Director General’s environmental criteria, do the environmental assessments, put the thing out for public comment, wait for submissions, respond to them, probably do more environmental assessments, wait for the approval panel to be convened, and then it could take another six months to a year before you get a decision.’

‘Fuck a cat,’ said Terry. ‘That’s it. I’m going to Texas. They know how to get things done over there. Five years? What am I supposed to tell the fucking bank? The board will have my balls.’ He wiped a hand across his face and pulled at his shirt collar where a ring of sweat had formed. ‘Why is it so fucking hot here? I thought Australia was meant to be paradise. This is worse than Chengdu.’ He looked at her. ‘You look alright though. You single?’

Cress snorted. ‘Um, no. Sorry, yes, it’s usually cooler in March. Anyway, look, you can ask for consideration to be expedited,’ she said, sitting back and sipping her drink. ‘But even then, that’s about how long it will take. Till the first clod can be turned, anyway.’

‘Anus,’ said Terry. He looked around. ‘Does anyone have any pilsener? I hate your country’s horsepiss beer.’ He threw the contents of his glass on the lawn behind him. ‘Has that pretentious wanker got any Asahi in his fridge?’ He pointed his chin at Michael.

‘Um … Mr Zhou wants to know if you have any Asahi.’

‘Oh. Um, no. Crown?’

‘I think anything other than beer at this point.’

‘Richard,’ Michael said, still smiling at the CEO. Richard hauled himself up and went into the kitchen, returning with a can of Canadian Club and handing it to Mr Zhou, who tasted it, burst into a grin and sank half, waving the empty can in thanks when he was done. He turned back to Cressida.

‘Much better. Arrgh. What choice do I have?’ he shrugged. ‘Your coal is the cheapest. Cunt-struck fuck. Five years?’

‘Yep.’ Cressida sighed. ‘Though the good news is,’ she said, ‘the government here have snuffed the National Energy Guarantee, so no Paris targets. And despite what the rest of the world is doing they’re still committed to coal, so’ – she shrugged – ‘you’re good.’

Terry shook his head.

‘National Energy Guarantee,’ he said, and rolled his eyes. ‘I will never understand you Australians. Why would you want to make fucking solar panels when you can just dig up cash. Anyway.’ He crushed the can and held it up in cheers. ‘Thanks.’

When the client and Partners had gone, Cressida subsided into a patio chair beside Pip and watched her demolish the remaining duck pancakes. Her workmate’s curves were resplendent that day in a turquoise velveteen dress atop black platform sandals. Where Cressida was rail thin, Pip was more Monica Lewinsky, but she really worked it, Cressida thought. She was the only Senior Associate Cressida knew who could get away with fishnet stockings and five-inch heels as workwear. With her dark hair and blue-grey eyes that were like coins falling through water, Cressida knew she never lacked for right-swipes on Tinder.

‘Pip,’ Cressida said. She leaned across to kiss her colleague’s cheek, catching a whiff of her heavy perfume as she touched the moist skin, and inspected the table. ‘It’s been ages.’ Nothing on it she could eat, she thought. Wall to wall fat and carbs. Although there was a plate of melon on the end. She’d read somewhere it took more energy to digest melon than it contained, so she settled on that, delicately arresting a slice from the bone china.

‘You really nailed it there, Cressida,’ Pip said, munching and mopping up sweet sauce with a pancake. ‘I wish I had your brain.’

‘Hah!’ laughed Cressida, holding the slice of melon between two fingers and sucking off the juice. ‘How do you know that? I was speaking Chinese.’

‘Yeah, and that. The whole thing. You’re the real thing,’ Pip said.

‘Yeah well,’ she said, wiping her fingers on a napkin, ‘at one point he was calling everyone anus faces, so be glad you missed it. Anyway’ – she took in Pip’s outfit with an appreciative glance again – ‘I wish I had your dress sense. Dressing down, I see.’

‘Oh this old thing,’ Pip laughed. ‘Collette Dinnigan on sale, three years ago. I love this muted palette thing you’re doing today, though,’ she said. ‘Silk on a weekend. You can talk about dress sense.’

‘Alessa’s in town.’ Cressida sighed, knowing that to Pip, at least, that would explain it. The mention of her name brought back the burn of her sister’s words. All through their childhood Alessa had been the cool one, the popular one, the one who always knew what the uber-on-trend colour and style was for hair, shoes, year twelve formal dresses, all the things that had mattered to her as a too-skinny fifteen-year-old – and now, it seemed, wedding invitations. Tahitian foam. Sounded like something they’d use to fluoride your teeth at the dentist.

‘Ah. How’s she coping with no power?’ said Pip. ‘Not well, I imagine.’

‘Oh darling, this sort of thing happens all the time in Singapore, don’t you know?’ said Cress, reaching for another slice of melon. ‘I’m not sure what all the fuss is about. Meanwhile she’s complaining about absolutely everything. “The toilet’s blocked. My laptop doesn’t work. Isn’t there anything other than canned food? I want a shower.”’ It was good to vent about it with Pip. At least Pip knew her sister well enough to understand, and she was on her side. ‘I agree with the last one though. I hate not being able to have a hot shower,’ she said, mopping her face with a serviette. ‘Even a lukewarm one to wash off the bloody humidity. Can you believe this? What kind of idiots blow up a power station?’ She blew out air so it fluffed her fringe and rolled her eyes at Pip.

‘Very intense ones,’ Pip said, rolling her eyes in return. ‘Nobody I’ve ever met, anyway. I suppose it had to happen some time though. I mean, why should the UK and the US get all the fun? I feel like we’ve arrived now, you know, as a country – we’ve had our very own terrorist attack.’ She threw a grape into her mouth.

‘It’s hardly fun, Pip,’ chided Cressida, frowning. ‘I mean, there are a bunch of people out there who are finding this really difficult. There’s even, like, you know, emergency shelters. Helena said there’s one at Moore Park Stadium.’

‘Oh I know that, silly. But the main thing is, it’s not us, is it? Goodness, doesn’t this look like an entrail,’ she said, picking up the last rice paper roll from a plate. ‘I’m just taking the Oscar Wilde approach to life; that it’s far too important a thing to be taken seriously. Hey – on the note of things serious – how’s the wedding planning going?’

‘Oh God I don’t know,’ Cressida said, falling back against the wicker chair. ‘I can’t believe it’s only eighteen months away. There seems to be so much to do.’

‘Is Alessa helping? That’s her job, you know. As your only sister.’

‘Hmph. Yeah right. No. Not really. Other than to tell me my invitations look dated. “So two years ago” she said.’

‘You’re kidding. Charming. Best off without her then. Well like I said, tell me if there’s anything I can do. Bummer about the partnership vote, by the way. They’re crazy to treat you like that.’

‘Yeah, crazy. Some woman from Melbourne brought up Dad though, so what chance did I have?’ She looked out at the pool. ‘Fucked if I know how she even knew about him. On the other hand, of course, there was that three-week run in The Australian, I guess,’ she snorted. ‘Anyway I ended up threatening her with defamation, so it was pretty much doomed from the start. So let’s not go on too much about my brains,’ she laughed.

Pip’s mouth dropped open. She covered a laugh with her hand. ‘You threatened Debra Bollos with defamation?’

‘Is that her name.’ It seemed odd that Pip knew it. But knowledge was power at Hannes Swartling, so maybe it wasn’t that surprising. Maybe they’d worked on a deal together or something. ‘Anyway. Overall I’m putting the whole thing down to misadventure. Trying not to take it personally. I’m sure they’ll reschedule it when they can.’

‘Hmm,’ said Pip, looking thoughtful. ‘Yeah. I guess so. Though something similar happened in Singapore last week, I’m told’ – she stretched forward for a dumpling – ‘and they did reschedule it – for forty-eight hours later.’ She bit into the soggy morsel. ‘Because of course we know from your sister that blackouts happen there all the time.’

Cressida paused with her glass halfway to the table.

‘What, you mean there was a partnership vote put off because of a blackout there as well?’

‘As it happens, yes. Esma told me. They re-did it two days later. The guy got in, too. But I’m sure they’ll get round to it. Why wouldn’t they? Unless that whole thing with your dad does turn out to be a problem …’

‘Oh for God’s sake,’ Cressida said, getting up and starting to stack the platters. She always tried to resist clearing up crockery at work functions – a dangerous habit for anyone female and remotely ambitious – but it helped hide her agitation. And besides, it was only Pip. ‘Yes, probably. And if that’s it I’ll … Well. I don’t know. Sue them for discrimination. Doesn’t the ICCPR say something about discrimination for that? I don’t know. Human rights law always bored me to tears.’

‘Oh Cressida.’ Pip laughed and poured herself a half glass of champagne from the bottle warming on the table. ‘I don’t think that will help. I’m sure the vote will be fine. Give it time.’

‘Yeah, because eleven years isn’t long enough,’ Cressida sighed, pushing open the sliding door with her shoulder. ‘Do you want a lift somewhere? Your place is on my way home.’

‘No that’s okay. I’ve got an engagement. Not a real one like yours, of course,’ she said with a laugh, ‘but one I’m hoping will be just as much fun.’ She smiled and drained her drink.

‘This mystery man again,’ said Cressida. ‘I don’t know why you’re being so secretive. I won’t tell anyone.’

‘Don’t ask, don’t tell, that’s my policy.’ Pip smirked and kissed Cressida on the cheek. ‘Besides, I seem more mysterious that way. See you at Brian’s.’

‘Oh yeah, Brian’s,’ said Cress, dumping the crockery on the marble island in the kitchen. ‘Richard mentioned it. What’s happening at Brian’s, exactly?’

Pip got up and aimed a toe into one of her wedges. ‘That’s where M and A are hanging out until the power’s back. He’s got battery-backed solar power and a great little Balinese cabana going on in his ground floor,’ she said, bending into her handbag and flipping open a compact to inspect her teeth for yum cha. ‘You should join us.’ Pip almost made working for Hannes Swartling sound like fun.

‘He’s got batteries too? Gosh, I’m feeling very late adopting. Sounds good. Oh by the way. I almost forgot. New project. Couple of tollways north and south. Bigger than all three Ms combined. You interested?’

Pip’s eyes snagged on her. ‘Do you mean InterConnex? I thought that was Richard’s baby.’

‘For some mystifying reason’ – Cress grinned – ‘he’s made me project manager.’

‘You?’ Pip exhaled, looking impressed. ‘Wow. Plum gig.’

‘Come on. You always wanted to do more infrastructure stuff.’

‘I’d love to!’ she said, leaning in to hug Cress. ‘Thanks for asking me.’

‘No problem,’ said Cress, feeling a flush of pleasure at her friend’s gratitude. ‘There’s a truckload to do. Draft Terms and Conditions on the first stage by mid next month, ready for the Call for Detailed Proposals at the launch in eight weeks. Nothing two brilliant chicks and half the Building and Construction group can’t accomplish together and at lightning speed,’ she said. ‘I’d like to get out to the sites for a few days once the power’s back, visit all of it, how does that sound? Let’s check in together at Brian’s first thing Monday.’

‘Excellent, Cressida. Thanks. See you.’

☼

Back at Helena’s Alessa was reclining, nymph-like, by the pool under the shade of the striped umbrella. Her nose was in a fat paperback and she wore one of Helena’s white kaftans and a sarong tied elaborately as a bandanna around her head. Felipe was next to her, glasses perched on his nose, naked to the waist and flipping through a stapled wad of paper.

‘Darling,’ he said, getting up. ‘Join us?’ He sat down and circled her with his arms. ‘The water’s perfect.’

‘I will. I just got the most amazing news though,’ she exclaimed, sitting carefully on the end of the banana lounge between his feet. ‘Richard’s put me on a massive new road project! As lead counsel,’ she said. ‘It’s going to be a tonne of work.’ She rolled her eyes and rested her chin in her hands, then looked at Alessa. ‘Is my laptop still charged? I need to start getting together the precedents …’

‘Flat as a tack I’m afraid,’ Alessa said, still in her book.

‘Oh,’ said Cressida. ‘Great.’

‘It’s a Saturday, darling,’ Felipe said, leaning forward to massage her shoulders. ‘Forget about work. Relax, come for a swim. I did forty-seven laps before lunch, didn’t I, Alessa? Have to keep our condition up,’ he said, squeezing Cressida’s bicep between two meaty fingers.

Cressida lifted her arm out of his grasp and peered into the water. ‘Are you sure it’s alright? Without the filter? Anyway my bathers are at the flat. Hang on a minute, isn’t that …’ She picked up the document next to Felipe on the coffee table. ‘I thought so – Orthopaedia Today. What are you talking about? You’re working.’

‘That’s different,’ he said, taking the article back.

‘I wonder if … what about your laptop, Felipe? I can just log on remotely with my phone …’ Except it was nearly out of battery. Maybe she could do it sitting in the car with the car charger in – but then, petrol wasn’t unlimited either …

‘My laptop’s at home as well, I’m afraid.’ Felipe shrugged. ‘I can get it for you later though, when I go back for my bag. Assuming they’re letting us in the building now of course.’ He sighed. ‘Look,’ he said, regarding her over the top of his glasses, ‘Why don’t you do a quick workout and then we can go out for dinner at that new French place in Crow’s Nest?’

‘That would be great,’ said Cressida. ‘Except there’s a blackout.’

‘Oh. Damn. Keep forgetting. Alessa – don’t suppose you have any other ideas?’

‘I’ve been pondering it all afternoon,’ Alessa said, putting down her book and looking pained. ‘I reckon we’re going to find that everything’s closed. Appalling. Right when I arrive wanting modern Australian three hat.’

‘Michael’s house has solar power. I was just there. We had yum cha,’ Cressida said, and was rewarded by Alessa’s mouth drop. She looked into the house through the open bi-fold doors. ‘Where’s Helena?’

‘She went out, she wouldn’t tell me where,’ said Alessa. ‘She had a conspiratorial glint in her eye though.’

‘Oh no,’ said Cressida.

‘I know.’

‘Yes well I’m hoping it doesn’t involve any large furry animals this time,’ Alessa said. ‘I did get an email from Jerome before your laptop went flat, incidentally.’

‘Oh really? That’s a first. He’s alive then. What did it say?’

‘You wouldn’t believe it,’ Alessa said. ‘He said we should be going out in protest in support of the terrorists.’ She cocked her head to one side, remembering. ‘That “at last someone is taking direct action on this crime against future generations AKA climate change, and you should both be burning your practising certificates in front of the Supreme Court in protest at their arrests”. Quote unquote.’

‘Does anyone even do that anymore?’ asked Cressida, leaning back on Felipe’s chest. ‘Richard said there’d been four arrests. Are these the same ones? The Eraring Four or something?’

Alessa shrugged. ‘Don’t know. We can ask though. Next time you email. He’s probably got better access to news than we do.’

‘So impulsive,’ Cressida said. ‘If he’s so passionate about them why isn’t he back here protesting?’ Her brother. She loved him to pieces, but sometimes he was so … well, so twenty-seven.

There must be some way she could get onto a charged laptop though, she thought, regarding the world over Felipe’s forearms. She looked at the pool. It did look inviting. Her shift was sticking to her in the heat.

‘Alright,’ she said. ‘Alessa, where are those bathers?’

‘Helena’s room, third drawer down,’ she said, and glanced up at her sister. ‘Try not to mess anything up in there. Helena likes to keep it neat.’

Cressida gritted her teeth. ‘Of course.’ When her sister said something like that it made her feel like going in and doing exactly what she’d said not to, while also dropping a couple of her earrings in the nearest tray of cat litter for good measure. She wouldn’t, of course. But it felt good to think it.

There was the heavy slam of a car door and Helena appeared at the back gate wearing a trilby with her leopard-skin scarf tied over it and down under her chin. She was carrying a long black case that looked like a violin, along with a plastic bag of shopping. She murmured hello and kept going. Cressida followed and found her standing on the other side of her bed, looking flustered.

‘What’s that?’ Cressida said, standing in the doorway.

Helena looked down at the plastic bag on the bed.

‘That? Nothing. Just a few bits and pieces. Alessa and Felipe said they were going for a jog. I thought all of you would be out.’

‘In this heat?’ she said, noticing something long and thin in the plastic bag. ‘Wait, is that … since when did you play baseball, Helena?’

‘It’s not for that,’ Helena said, grabbing the bat. ‘It’s just, well, you know … Cressida, there are looters out there. Police everywhere. The alarm system’s not working. We need to be safe.’

‘Oh Helena,’ Cressida said, walking round to her side of the bed and taking it from her. ‘You’re completely safe. We’re all here, for goodness sake. What else have you got in there?’ She opened the plastic bag. Inside were two small black and white canisters, some D-bolts, something that looked like a torch, and a kilo of chops.

‘But what if they have guns?’ Helena said. ‘Marjorie down the road told me that number 52 got broken into. They cleaned the place out. No-one was home, thank goodness. But it … it worries me.’

Cressida pulled out the torch.

‘Where did you get all this stuff?’ she asked, digging through the bag. ‘Helena, that’s what the door locks are for.’

‘Wellington Surplus on Carrington Street. They took cash. Don’t touch that,’ Helena said. ‘It’s a flashlight with 2.5 million volt stun gun. They smashed their sliding door, Cressida. With a tyre iron they found in the back shed. I have a right to take precautions.’

Cressida squatted down beside the bed. The long black case was under it.

‘And what is this?’

‘Nothing. Oh, don’t look. It’s better if you don’t. Please,’ Helena said, putting her face in her hands. Cressida pulled out the case and opened it. Inside was a rifle.

‘Helena. How did you get this? You have to take it back.’

‘No,’ Helena said. ‘I used Leo’s … Leo’s clay target licence. It’s the only one they would give me. I wanted a handgun, but you need a different permit for that.’

‘A handgun. Helena, are you out of your mind? The few people that get killed in home invasions are the ones that have the guns. Everyone knows that. And if the other guy has one, you have three times the chance. Or something.’

‘Really?’

‘Why did they let you have this? You didn’t …’

Helena grimaced and nodded. ‘Well he did make me power of attorney.’

‘You’re telling me they let you buy a gun as someone’s attorney,’ Cressida said. ‘That is the nuttiest thing I’ve ever heard. Helena. I mean it. You need to take it back.’

‘Cressida? Did you find the bathers?’ came Alessa’s voice from the hallway. At the look on Helena’s face Cressida shut the case quickly and slid it back under the bed. ‘Just about to,’ she called out, standing up. ‘Take it back, Helena. Or else I will,’ she said quietly. More loudly, she said, ‘What a good idea, Helena. We’ll fire up the barbie. Give me those chops and I’ll put them in the esky.’