The Problem with Perfect Read online

  Finn silently agreed.

  Peter leaned forward and narrowed his eyes. “There’s something I didn’t tell you, Finn. The morning after Julian died, before we even knew he’d passed, Marigold came into work. As usual. I saw her briefly in the morning and she didn’t say a word about Julian. I had no idea that anything was anything other than normal.”

  She saw her father but didn’t tell him that her husband had passed away? That was strange. “The morning after he died?” he clarified, in case he’d misheard.

  “The morning after. I had a couple of meetings here and was preparing to go to my Bendigo office when I received a call from the CEO of the company Marigold has been trying to acquire. He was furious. He’d just had a call from her, tearing up the agreement and low-balling him.”

  “That doesn’t sound like her.”

  Finn wasn’t exactly sure where this was going. Workings of corporate mergers were not his speciality, but it did seem like a dangerous approach to upset a key stakeholder in the arrangement.

  “I couldn’t believe it either. I walked to her office to see what had happened and she was working away. She told me that she was on top of the merger, and ‘by the way’, Julian passed away. She told me like she was telling me she went to the movies the night before.”

  “What?” Finn stared at Peter in disbelief. It was hard to imagine her so flippant about something so serious.

  “She was clearly in a state of shock and denial.”

  Finn remembered Peter saying the same thing on the day he’d asked him to keep an eye on Marigold. He’d thought Peter was over-reacting, but clearly not if this was how she behaved the morning after her husband died. “Denial happens. I’ve seen it myself. I’ve experienced it myself.”

  Peter looked out of the window briefly and his shoulders rounded – ever so slightly – before turning back to Finn, looking as cool and calm as he always did. “Marigold doesn’t remember it at all. She doesn’t even remember being in the office that day, let alone her role in the merger going south. She thinks the only thing she did that day was make funeral arrangements. So you can see why she needed a rest from this place. I had to try to seal the deal for her. It means so much to her.”

  “Is the merger what you want?” Finn asked, before realising that this wasn’t the most appropriate question.

  “It’s Marigold’s baby. I’m looking to start to work my way out of this business, Finn. In six months I was meant to take a step back. I need to spend more time at home, and I think in many ways, I’ve taken the business as far as I can.”

  “Is that still the plan?” Finn cringed. He was being so nosey. This wasn’t his business.

  Peter gave a heavy sigh. “I’m not sure, but I don’t think six months is viable for her to be in charge. Not after what happened to Julian.”

  “Does she know what happened the day after Julian passed away?”

  “She does now.”

  Finn swallowed. Should he tell Peter about the apartment? It might explain Marigold’s behaviour at the office today. She’d been under so much stress since Julian died. But it wasn’t his place. Marigold had asked him to keep this to himself, and he knew it was vital to respect that. “Do you still need me to keep an eye on things?”

  “Thank you. I appreciate you helping me with this, Finn.”

  After a brief discussion about a matter he was working on with Peter – though it was brief, as Peter quite frankly looked distracted after the morning’s events – Finn walked back to his car.

  As he did, his phone rang. It was a technician from the laboratory he’d sent the pills that were found in Julian’s desk drawer. He exhaled as the technician told him what they were.

  Just when he thought this case couldn’t get any stranger, it did.

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Marigold

  It was 3 pm and Marigold had taken to the sofa with infomercials running and the tub of the caramel popcorn ice-cream Julian had purchased. She spooned it into her mouth. The popcorn was sort of chewy and unappetising, but the cold sweetness was numbing her throat. Perhaps it could numb her mind too, and lull her into a little sugar coma with the sound of infomercials buzzing in the background.

  Would it help her to forget the events of the past few months? Drift into a semi-conscious fantasy land where her husband wasn’t dead and she hadn’t created a complete mess at work? It was worth a try. She shoved another spoonful of the sickly-sweet ice cream into her mouth.

  Vodka. She needed Vodka. The sugar alone wouldn’t get the job done.

  A knock at her door sounded and Marigold put down the tub and spoon. As she walked through the foyer, she could see through the pane that ran alongside the door that Finn had arrived.

  “What do you have for me?” she asked him as she opened the door.

  “Hi Marigold.”

  “Are you being sarcastic?” It was annoying enough when Julian used to complain about her greetings, or lack thereof. She wasn’t in the mood for Finn to lecture her.

  “No. I’m not.” He closed the door behind him and looked at her. “I heard about your visit to D-Line.”

  “Are you here to arrest me?” Marigold crossed her arms in front of her. “Charge me? Have me thrown in the basement of Mulberry Estate now I’ve brought the family into disrepute?”

  “I want to know if you’re ok.”

  She unfolded her arms and turned towards the kitchen. “Of course, only everyone in that entire office who I’ve spent years convincing that I’m not only there because I’m the boss’s daughter, witnessed me completely melting down after apparently, I can’t even remember my own incompetence.”

  “Everyone makes mistakes. I certainly don’t think you’re there only because you’re Peter’s daughter. I doubt anyone else does either.”

  “You’re being too kind.” She turned on the coffee machine and as she did, she felt Finn move next to her.

  “No,” he said lowly. “I understand the pressure.”

  She looked up and into his eyes. “The pressure?”

  “The pressure of your job. The pressure of being the only one there. Frederick and Rose show no interest in D-Line, and your dad, well, he clearly loves it like a fourth child and you’re the only one there.”

  She felt tears stinging at her eyes and blinked to avoid them falling. “Coffee?” she asked, hearing the croak in her voice as she tried to suppress the tears.

  “Am I right?”

  She pushed a button and watched as the machine started.

  “Am I right?” he repeated.

  She spun around to face him. “Yes. Ok? What do you want me to say? There is a lot of pressure being there. Being the boss’s daughter, being the only one of my siblings who wants to be there, knowing that I need to take over the whole thing soon and I don’t think I can do it. Especially after today.” Tears rolled down her cheeks. It was the first time she’d ever said anything like this out loud – in fact, it was the first time that any of these little fears, these little doubts, these little whispers that echoed through her mind were even a cohesive thought.

  She was scared. She was tired. She needed Vodka.

  She wasn’t up to this, and everything that had happened since Julian’s death proved it.

  “I understand,” Finn said.

  Did he understand the pressure? Perhaps he did, but either way, she didn’t want to discuss this further. It was too frightening to consider. If she’d just caused that much havoc at D-Line, what on earth did she have left in her life?

  “What’s the latest on the apartment?”

  He raised an eyebrow but quickly moved into the conversation. “I received the phone bills and I’m matching them to Julian’s call history on his mobile phone. Most I can account for – solicitors referring cases, clients with questions, Aaron with details of changes to court times and whatnot. There are a couple that don’t match, so I’m checking those out.”

  Marigold nodded. “Ok, let me know if you need me to get anything e
lse from the phone company. It’s probably easier for me to get it.”

  “With some of the information I may be seeking, I’ll need to explore alternative means of obtaining it.”

  She wasn’t sure what exactly he meant, but this wasn’t her forte. She trusted him that he knew all the rules around privacy to obtain information, but it couldn’t be her concern. Did she mind if he broke a law to find out what she needed to know? Perhaps not. Maybe the ends justified the means.

  “But I did receive an interesting call today, and it has me stumped. It was from the lab where I sent the pills that were in Julian’s desk. They were diet pills.”

  “Diet pills?” she repeated.

  “Yes.” Finn furrowed his brow in apparent confusion. “Do you think they were his? Was he on a diet?”

  “Oh my ….” She looked back at him. She hadn’t wanted Julian to start taking things like that – just cut out some of the junk food. But had he done that in desperation to get her off his back? “I’d been telling him that he’d put on weight, and maybe he thought they were going to help.” A cold feeling crept through Marigold’s body. “They couldn’t have brought on the heart attack, could they?”

  “Doubtful.”

  “But those things can dehydrate you, and maybe he took something else that reacted badly.” She felt faint. She grasped the side of the bench to stop her falling, but as she did, she felt Finn’s arms around her.

  “Sit down,” he said, and helped her to a nearby chair. “This isn’t your fault.”

  “But it is,” she whispered. “I told him to lose weight.”

  “You didn’t force-feed him diet pills. He made choices, and quite frankly, from the looks of things, not good choices. Diet pills may have been the least of his issues. His death isn’t your fault.”

  She looked at him and nodded, but the doubts remained. Had she driven him to all the bad choices he’d apparently made? Had her quest for perfection killed her husband?

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  Marigold

  Would Amelia like that necklace?

  Marigold read Frederick’s text and looked at the necklace on offer. Tacky was the only word she could find for it. No. Looks cheap.

  Really? I think it’s nice.

  What the hell was wrong with him? Seriously? What’s happened to your taste? You used to buy your little love-‘em-and-leave-‘em girlfriends Tiffany & Co and Cartier. Now, you’re going to buy your wife – the mother of your child – a cheap necklace from the home shopping network?

  His response was swift. Tiffany & Co? Are you serious? I can’t remember the last time I set foot in a store that wasn’t a supermarket. I’m domesticated now. When I shop I buy nappies or yoghurt or muesli bars with cartoon characters on the boxes. Cartier? Are you crazy?

  Buy it online, she typed back.

  Maybe I will. I need to get laid.

  Leave Amelia alone, Marigold texted back. Poor Amelia. She’d just carried and birthed one of his ‘big’ babies.

  I heard what happened at work. U ok?

  She put her phone down. Who hadn’t heard about her meltdown? She was surprised the whole thing hadn’t already turned up on YouTube. That was the sort of gossip people relished, and the type of thing her father hated, like a few little tongue-in-cheek articles in the social pages of the newspaper about Frederick in his younger and wilder pre-Amelia days.

  But her behaviour at work, well, that was even worse than a bit of idle gossip about her brother and some soapie starlet.

  Marigold was the sensible one. The good one. The smart one. The one who was in charge of the family business. But by her last performance, she wasn’t fit to even work at D-Line, let alone run it.

  She wasn’t interested in talking about the scene at work with Frederick, or anyone for that matter.

  Though perhaps she should have spoken about it further with Finn. He’d said he understood the pressure. He hadn’t elaborated, but she assumed he was talking about his job at the Federal Police and the siege.

  She picked up her phone again, ignoring Frederick’s message, and Googling the siege. She did remember the day of the siege fairly clearly – even though it was well over three years ago. She’d been at work and she had spoken to Julian about something and he’d told her to turn on the television. She’d done so and watched the reports for a few minutes.

  It had sounded terrible. A government department building in Canberra was in lockdown when an armed gunman had entered and taken a dozen or so office workers hostage. The police apparently had been in contact with him, and there were rumours circulating around the press that there were a series of bombs hidden in the carparks of neighbouring buildings. The nation’s capital had been brought to a standstill by one man.

  She’d watched for a few moments before turning it off. There was nothing she could do to help, and she had work to do. She thought the police should just storm the building and end it – they were giving in to a madman to hold so many people to ransom and cause so much fear and panic.

  She’d driven home, listening to updates on the radio as the siege continued into the evening. Julian had been captivated by it and had watched the coverage that night, while Marigold worked in her study, before going to bed. Julian told her the next day that two police officers and several civilians had been killed, along with the gunman, when eventually the Police (realising the bombs had just been a hoax) stormed the building.

  It was strange to think that Finn had been there that day. She’d not known him at that stage, but with hindsight, it was unnerving to think that someone she now knew fairly well had been involved and had been in danger.

  And horrifying to think that one of the officers who had been killed, the ones whose pictures she’d seen on the news, had been one of his closest friends.

  She’d not really remembered a lot of the aftermath, but as she read the various newspaper reports, there was a feeling that the police hadn’t handled the situation that well – that they’d let it go on too long before acting. Not unlike how she’d felt on that day.

  Others disagreed. The fact that the gunman had made the threat about the bombs in other buildings made the situation harder. They didn’t know if shooting him, for example, would detonate bombs in other buildings. And which buildings? Hotels? Parliament House? Shopping centres? She could see their point.

  She read through the reports slowly and carefully. There had been an inquest at the time that had found some fault with the police, but now the inquest had been re-opened after much pressure and political posturing following a whistle-blower coming forward.

  Poor Finn. No wonder he was having migraines. She couldn’t imagine the stress of being publicly called to testify like that and re-live possibly the worst day of his life, let alone make a decision between the truth and his best mate.

  She was having trouble re-living the worst day of her life in her own mind, without being cross-examined on it.

  She started to put together a text message to send to Finn, but when she couldn’t figure out the words, she put her phone away and tried to concentrate on one of Julian’s spy novels, with the animated chatter of the infomercial presenters in the background.

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  Marigold

  “And five, four, three, two, one.” Will counted down Marigold’s crunches. They were having a one-on-one session. It was meant to be a session with Rose, but she, of course, had ducked out at the last minute. But it actually worked out well to be able to concentrate on the work-out without Rose’s incessant chatter and giggling at Will’s every comment.

  Not to mention an electrician at her house who was installing the lighting above the shoe cabinets she’d eventually put together. He was efficient, but had the drill going all morning, and the noise had driven her mad.

  Marigold sank back into the bed as they finished a round of abdominal exercises. “That was tough.”

  “You’re tough. It’s a challenge to keep coming up with stuff for you. You’re al
ready doing advanced level moves! We’ll have a stretch now, and then you’re good to go.”

  “Thanks,” Marigold reached up to remove her feet from the straps but her hand slipped. It was so awkward – it was hard to be ladylike when her legs were effectively in stirrups.

  Will grinned. “Let me help you.” He helped her remove her foot from one of the straps and then the second, and as he did, his face was close to hers. “Good work today, I really like training with you.”

  She smiled at him. “I like training with you too, Will.”

  He had such a nice smile, and his blue eyes reminded her of Julian. Memories, hundreds of images of Julian, flooded her mind, the way he used to look at her from his side of the bed, his eyes and his smile. She thought she’d have that for the rest of her life, and now it was gone for ever.

  She felt herself lean closer, as Will did, before they kissed.

  What am I doing? She felt horrified as their lips met.

  They pulled back from each other. The blood drained from her face. She shut her eyes. Did she just do that?

  She jumped up and ran over to where she’d left her things. “I’m so sorry, Will, I don’t know what came over me. Please forgive me,” she said hurriedly as she grabbed her bag, slipped on her shoes and threw her jacket over her shoulders as she raced towards the exit.

  She pushed the lift button several times until thankfully it opened and she hurried inside, willing the doors to close. She put her head in her hands as the lift descended. What was happening to her? Kissing random people? Forgetting basic things like her PIN code? Making a scene at work?

  She was going mad. Completely and utterly mad.

  It was like the day Julian died. Her entire world had changed overnight and no-one told her. She was now creeping through this strange semblance of her past life without a clue how to manage it.