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After breakfast, she returned to her hotel room and readied herself to go for a walk around the harbour. She needed to get out into the fresh air and clear her head to think about what she should do next.
Part of her wanted to let it go, start again and move on with her life without worrying about anything Preston had or had not done. But the other part of her didn’t want him to get away with being dishonest, if that was even what was happening. She didn’t know for certain.
Maybe what he’d said to her was right — they lived in such a way that there wasn’t much left over. She should let it go and accept that he was telling the truth. After all, she’d trusted him for most of her life. Why would she stop doing that now?
He called her when she was stepping out of the lift, and she held the phone to her ear as she hurried out of the building and onto the street. The cold wind slapped her in the face, and she strode quickly, hoping the fast pace would warm her up.
“Hi, Preston. I hope you’re well.”
His voice was cheerful. “I hear you have questions about our finances.”
Someone had spoken to him. Most likely the accountant, but possibly Harry. “How did you know?”
“Let’s get together and talk about it,” he said, avoiding her question. “Where are you now?”
“I’m outside my hotel, going for a walk.”
“Meet me on Martin Place. We can have a coffee and talk this through.”
“Okay, I can be there in half an hour.”
“See you then.”
She hung up the phone and shoved it into the pocket of her aqua puffer jacket. She was completely underdressed to meet Preston in her workout gear with a headband around her forehead, but it didn’t matter.
They would meet, they’d talk about finances, and she’d go on with her walk. At least this way, she might discover what was going on without having to spend the entire afternoon huddled over her laptop in her hotel room.
Bea made her way to Martin Place and found the café where Preston had arranged to meet her. It was close by to the Lindt Café where there’d been a shooting years earlier. She remembered it like it was yesterday, and the thought sent a shiver through her body as she walked by.
The poor woman who’d died was around the same age as her and had been pregnant at the time. She recalled looking at her own pregnant belly with tears in her eyes, wishing such things weren’t a part of the world she lived in.
But real life wasn’t all sunshine and roses, as she well knew. Mothers died, marriages fell apart and honesty wasn’t everyone’s preferred policy. She had to face the truth — she’d ignored the signs that were right in front of her for too long. Maybe the trauma of losing her mother so young had pushed her to pretend that everything was okay.
If she ignored it, she didn’t have to face it. But if she’d paid more attention to her husband and what was going on in their home and their marriage, maybe she wouldn’t have found herself in this situation.
Preston sat at a small table in the back of the café, playing on his phone. He looked up when she walked in, and she thought for a moment that he’d aged five years in the time since their anniversary party.
She sat across from him. “Hi.”
“Latte?” he asked.
She nodded. “On skim milk.”
“I know.” He went to the counter and ordered their drinks, then returned with her coffee and a tea for himself in takeaway cups. He set hers in front of her and sat down, smiling. “Some things never change. A large latte on skim milk for you, a black tea for me.”
“And some things change when you least expect it,” she quipped, surprised that he remembered her coffee choice since it wasn’t so long ago he’d claimed not to know she was a coffee lover.
He dipped his head. “Touché.”
She took a sip of coffee. “I suppose you want to know why I called the accountant.”
“The thought crossed my mind.”
“I want to get hold of all my financial records. I don’t have copies of anything, and I’ll need them moving forward.”
“For what?”
Her eyes narrowed. “All kinds of things. Why does that bother you?”
