Taking a deep breath, he closed his eyes and expelled the air as slowly as he could. This started to have a calming effect, so he repeated the breathing exercise, focussing purely on inhaling and exhaling. After several moments, he felt his heart return to an almost regular pace. It was then he opened his eyes, and sensed someone was standing by the camera behind him.
‘Ah good, you’re awake,’ said an excited voice from the darkness. ‘Now, we can get started…’
20
The evening sun was setting as Leighton pulled his car off the road, and parked on the communal lot of the Oceanside complex. The location was essentially a two-storey condominium of eight beach side homes.
As he wrenched on the parking brake, Leighton glanced around. His car looked conspicuously grubby, as it sat uncomfortably amongst the porches and BMWs. This made Leighton smile proudly. He pulled a scrap of paper from his pocket and checked the address. When he had picked her up the previous week, Vicki had been already waiting in the car park, and so he avoided having to approach the formidable white block of homes. This time was different. Having checked the property number, he stuffed the paper back in his jacket, walked to the trunk of his car, opened it, and took out two white paper bags.
Leighton traversed the path to the apartment, and pressed the doorbell, shifting from foot to foot as he nervously waited.
After a few minutes, the door opened.
‘Hi,’ Vicki said looking genuinely surprised.
Leighton thought she looked tired, and maybe something else, too.
‘Hey,’ he greeted her. ‘I’m sorry for just showing up like this. I wanted to apologise. I tried calling for a couple of days…’
‘It’s not a great time, Detective. I get it.’ She pinched the bridge of her nose. “I get it - I was stupid okay?”
Leighton’s expression became uncharacteristically soft. ‘Hey, it’s fine,’ he said, ‘I just wanted see you – to say I’m sorry about Monday.’
Vicki looked at him for a moment, then sighed.
‘It’s okay, come on in.’
She walked ahead, leaving Leighton to close the large door behind him.
Vicki didn’t turn around as she led him along a small hallway to a large open plan room with patio doors opening to a beach front balcony. Leighton’s eyes widened at the impressive view of the orange sky above the pounding ocean.
‘Have a seat.’ Vicki waved a hand towards the two red sofas.
‘I brought you this.’ Leighton held up one of the bags.
‘What is it?’
‘That stuff you said you liked from Thai Garden – fried Tofu and spring rolls. Is that right?’
‘Wow.’ Vicki’s eyes widened. ‘That was really thoughtful of you…’
This simple act was too much for Vicki, who was unable to hold back the tears that began forming beneath her eyes.
‘My father died,’ she said quietly. Her shoulders slumped, and the tears began pouring over her face.
‘Oh, hey, I’m sorry.’ Leighton dropped the bags, moved over to Vicki, and held her. ‘I’ll go.’
For a few moments, she stayed there, sobbing against the comforting man, letting her hot tears wet his shirt.
‘I’ll go,’ he said softly again as her heaving slowed and began to subside.
‘No,’ she said, pushing back from him, and wiping at her face. ‘It’s okay. You’re just the first person I’ve told.’
‘Do you want to speak about it?’
Vicki wiped at her red eyes with her sleeve. ‘I guess.’
‘Where is your mother?’
‘Still in the city – she has the US MaxFac Conference this week. She said she’ll aim to stop by next Friday.’
‘But, what about the funeral?’
‘There won’t be one. My dad was a member of the Natural Burial Foundation. He paid nine hundred to bucks to get buried wrapped in banana leaves in an undisclosed location.’
‘Are you serious?’
‘Unfortunately, yes.’
‘I don’t suppose you’ll feel much like this.’ Leighton looked at the bags on the floor.
‘Actually, I’m starving. Not eaten for a couple of days. I’ll get us some plates.’
‘Us?’
‘Yeah, looks like you’ve brought enough for a small army there.’
Leighton blushed. ‘They had a few types; I didn’t know which one you’d prefer.’
Vicki smiled, though her face was still wet from crying.
‘It’s only the tub of sauce that’s different. You could have got one box of fried tofu and a couple of extra sauces. How many boxes did you get?’
‘Four.’ Leighton looked shamefully at his feet.
‘Then, you’re definitely eating, too!’
Vicki went to through to a dimly lit kitchen and returned with two glossy white plates. She knelt on the floor, and divided the crispy tofu and a portion of noodles between the two of them.
‘I must confess, I’ve never tasted tofu before.’
‘Don’t worry, it’s nothing bad.’
‘What’s it like?’
‘Just try it.’
Vicki handed him a plate, and went back to the kitchen, returning with two chilled bottles of imported beer. Sitting cross-legged on the floor next to Leighton she watched as he took his first tentative bite.
He looked upwards as he chewed and despite his reservations, he found he liked it.
‘Well?’ Vicki asked.
‘Pretty good. Kind of like calamari, only softer.’
‘See, I knew you were a gentleman of taste.’
Leighton picked up his cool bottle and held it out to her. Toasting before sipping was a sacred ritual amongst all officers. Station houses were full of urban legends of officers who fell in the line of duty after they had forgotten to toast in a bar the previous evening.
‘Cheers,’ Leighton said.
Vicki clicked her green bottle against Leighton’s, and they both took a gulp.
They ate in comfortable silence, but when Leighton noticed Vicki beginning to stare into the distance, he recognised a look he had often seen in his bathroom mirror.
‘You know you can tell me about him, if you want?’
Vicki look startled for a second, then smiled. ‘How did you…’
‘It’s a retired cop slash grieving father thing.’ Leighton focussed his attention on selection a piece of food, but was intently hoping Vicki would trust him.
‘There’s not much to tell.’ She sighed. ‘I still don’t feel it yet. It’s weird - because he’s been kind of distant for most of my adult life. Maybe I had less to lose.’
‘Loss is loss.’
‘I guess. Though, it sounds like something my dad would learn on his hippy retreats.’
Leighton looked at Vicki for a moment. Now, it was his turn to do some trusting – something he found difficult.
‘You know, I never saw much of my daughter, once she hit high school,’ he chuckled wryly. ‘It was as if one minute, were making ant farms in the backyard, the next, she was sneaking out her bedroom window at midnight. It felt like I was suddenly cut out; I wanted to be involved, to keep her safe, but I guess, for her, it was suffocating. After her mother and I separated, I found myself trying to be mom and dad … and failing at both.’
‘But, you loved her.’
‘Yes, I did - with all my heart, but …’ Leighton looked at the floor.
‘But?’
‘I’m not sure that’s what she would have thought.’
‘Why?’ Vicki asked, as she shuffled slightly closer.
Leighton smiled and shrugged. ‘That last year, our conversations were almost always just arguments. Did I love her? Yes. Was I proud of my baby girl? Hell, yes.’ Leighton’s voice cracked. ‘But, I didn’t know how to shoehorn these things into everyday conversation. It’s not easy, to set boundaries and show love, and hold down a job and muddle through life at the same time.’
‘I know, but some manage it.’ Vicki said defiantly.
‘That’s true, but some people win the state lottery. Doesn’t mean we all can. Look, I just mean, you maybe shouldn’t judge your father by what he didn’t say.’