‘What about more recently?’ asks Felix. ‘Did anything give you the impression that she did know something?’
‘No, nothing really. Nothing solid anyway. When she applied for the teaching role I was surprised. I didn’t expect her to want to come back to Smithson, but she’d been an excellent student, loved the arts and had a real skill with language. I knew she would be a wonderful teacher, but I was nervous about the … proximity. Jessie had died the year before and I wasn’t sure how I would cope. It seemed risky.’
‘Are you certain she was your daughter? Will you take a test?’
Felix’s questions feel cruel but Nicholson doesn’t seem to mind. I suspect he’s asked himself the same questions more times than he cares to remember.
He seems relieved to have got his secret out. ‘Yes. I’m certain. I’ll take a test if you need me to. I think she looked a little like me and we have similar inclinations. Similar interests. It gave me great joy to watch her teach and watch her put on her plays. She was very talented.’
I say, ‘You didn’t suddenly feel the need to tell her about all of this? You didn’t perhaps tell her and then argue? She didn’t get upset? It would have been a huge shock for her if she really didn’t know anything.’
‘No. I never spoke a word of it to her. At times I felt like she knew. I know she felt close to me, but I suppose she saw me as a mentor figure. I was careful, or thought I was. I knew how it might be misconstrued.’
‘Do you think George Ryan knows?’ Felix asks.
Nicholson shifts in his seat. ‘That I don’t know. I don’t think that Olivia would ever have said anything. She seemed to be quite scared of him and terrified of him finding out about us. But he may have suspected that Rose was not his child, depending on the nature of their relationship at the time. She looks nothing like the other children.’
‘Could she have been someone else’s child?’ I say.
He shrugs forlornly. ‘It’s possible. But I think it’s unlikely. Olivia was unpredictable and confused, but we spent a lot of time together. I honestly don’t see how she could have been seeing anyone else.’
‘Why didn’t you see the play on opening night, Mr Nicholson?’ I ask.
He looks up at us and his face is heavy with guilt. ‘Nothing sinister, I can assure you. I wasn’t feeling very well. And I was a little upset, I admit. I had just found out that Rose was moving away. She had applied for a teaching position in Brisbane and was moving there after Christmas. She had come to tell me earlier that day; she needed me to provide a reference, which obviously was not a problem. I was happy for her, but it hit me quite hard. I suppose I had got used to having her around. Of course, now she is gone anyway.’ He looks off into the wild tangle of his garden. ‘I know I should have told you this before, but I didn’t want to talk about her leaving and there didn’t seem any point in the end.’
‘Yes, you should have told us. You should have told us everything,’ I say, but softly.
He nods, but his eyes remain on the garden.
‘Did you fight about it? Her leaving?’ Felix presses.
‘No, no, not at all. I wanted to understand why she was moving away, but she said she just wanted a change. She’d done her time at Smithson, so I could hardly argue with her. She wanted to be in a more creative school—the battle for funding had rather worn her down, I think. We talked about the new school a little and I was sure to give her my blessing. But after she left my office I felt unwell so I came home.’
I ask, ‘You were home here alone all that evening?’
‘Yes. Like I told you last week, I was here watching a movie. I fed the cat next door at about seven. My neighbours are away. I had a cup of tea at about ten and then went to bed.’
‘And then the next day you heard about what had happened?’ says Felix.
‘Yes. Colin, our security guard, called me. He had taken the call from your station and then he alerted me. It is the standard procedure. Not that it is very standard, of course.’
‘Did you believe her explanation about the job?’ I ask.
Nicholson looks slightly pained. ‘I’m not sure. It was quite a surprise but I figured she did just want a change. She had been at Smithson for years. It did seem a little sudden and I wondered if something had happened, but she didn’t say anything like that. She seemed happy, I think. I’ve thought about that a lot, whether she was happy, and I think she was. I hope she was.’
‘By all accounts the play was a great success,’ I say. ‘Everyone we’ve spoken to said she seemed thrilled.’
‘Oh, I’m sure,’ Nicholson says. ‘It really was amazing from what I’d seen in rehearsals. I’m glad the kids are going to give it another run.’
‘You will go?’ Felix asks.
‘Yes, of course. I don’t know much about anything else right now, but I will definitely go and see her play.’
‘Why have you told us all of this?’ I ask. ‘You didn’t have to. We’d probably never have known.’
His eyes settle on me, watery dark pools. ‘Well, I obviously don’t want anyone thinking there was anything untoward between us. But also, her being gone has changed everything. I like talking about her, I suppose, and maybe I feel like it’s finally time to claim her as my daughter. I was so proud of her, you know.’
My phone buzzes in my pocket. A text from Scott: What time will you be home?
I look at Felix, indicating I need to get going.
‘Alright, let’s get this test sorted then,’ he says, pulling a kit from his bag.
He takes the sample. John Nicholson looks completely spent as if he’s just come down with a virus.
‘Well, thank you, Mr Nicholson,’ says Felix. ‘We’ve taken up enough of your time.’
He shrugs at Felix. ‘Time is not of huge concern to me anymore.’
We make our way back through the house, following his long strides. I can see where his shirt rubs on a sharp vertebra.
I say, ‘We might have some more questions for you. And we’ll be in touch about the DNA test.’
‘Yes. That’s fine.’
We pause in the doorway. The clock on the wall near my head ticks loudly in my ear.
‘Do you know who might have done this to her?’ Felix asks him directly.
‘I’ve wondered, of course, but I can’t think about it too much. I can’t stand to think about her alone there all night in the water. Maybe she did have an argument with someone. She was very passionate sometimes. I think it was most likely a stranger. Some horrible man. I really don’t know.’
‘Well, thank you,’ I say.
He waves at us and pulls the screen door shut.
In the car I feel broken. The years of Nicholson’s grief and longing ache across my body. They mingle with my own sadness and swirl through my guts.
The police radio buzzes to life as we turn out of the street. An accident on Holmesglen Road. A psych patient at the hospital has threatened someone with a knife. A child has been rescued from a parked car at the supermarket and her parents can’t be located.
‘Well, you were right,’ says Felix. ‘About the paternity.’
‘Yeah. I was.’
‘Some story,’ he says.