You Had It Coming B.M. Carroll (best ebook reader for surface pro .txt) 📖

points for University of Sydney, he advised me to consider going to Newcastle. He helped with my fees and accommodation costs, and he gave me a job when I finished my degree. I owe everything to him.’

Emily’s background is nothing like the privileged one Bridget had imagined. It took grit and the helping hand of William Newson to get where she is today. Quite a few hats he was wearing: father figure, mentor, boss, saviour.

‘So, the money was a wedding gift?’

‘Yes. But I really didn’t want it. He’d done enough for me. Besides, people see things like that and draw all the wrong conclusions. They assume there must be a sexual relationship or some sort of manipulation going on. I promise you, I’m not that kind of girl.’

Bridget believes her. At least, she thinks she does. ‘How did Suzanne and the kids react? Did they mind Mr Newson supporting you financially at university?’

Another audible sigh. ‘Suzanne was always lovely, Joshua and his brothers less so. William would invite me around to the house the odd time. Joshua was super possessive about his dad, and the other two were really awkward with me. William wasn’t always attuned to the undercurrents.’

So, Joshua wanted his dad to himself. Middle-child syndrome? Insecurity? Possessiveness is a very plausible motive for murder.

‘If it wasn’t for William, I’d have left school by Year 10. I’d be in some dead-end job with barely enough money to pay my rent.’

Bridget gazes at the young woman, whose hands are clasped together on her lap. So well-spoken, well-dressed and professional. All thanks to William Newson, apparently.

Who was he? The good guy or the bad guy? A heartless, morally questionable lawyer – or a fair-minded, charitable family man? If Bridget can figure out who he really was, she might also have a better chance of figuring out why he was murdered in cold blood while putting out his rubbish bins.

40

MEGAN

It’s not an official engagement party, just drinks, no gifts. If Lucas had given more notice Megan could have arranged to be working. As it was, she had Friday night free and everyone knew it.

What to wear? Something arresting, that will catch his eye and make him wonder what the hell he’s doing marrying Daniella? Or something sedate, an outfit that will make her blend into the background: where she obviously belongs.

Black skinny jeans, black flowy top, black suede boots. More make-up than usual: a mask she can hide behind.

‘All in black?’ Roslyn comments on seeing the outfit. ‘You look like you’re going to a funeral.’

It does feel like someone has died. Megan woke this morning with a sense of catastrophe. Lucas is engaged. Lucas is getting married. Lucas and Daniella are a permanent fixture. There’s no hope. There never was, you idiot!

The drinks are upstairs in a popular pub in North Sydney. There’s a night-view of the Harbour Bridge, and access to a balcony with outdoor heaters. Kaz thrusts an oversized glass of wine into her hand as soon as she arrives. She takes an uncharacteristically large glug: Dutch courage. How long does she need to stay in order to be polite? Kaz and the others look like they’re up for a big night.

Megan’s eyes scan the room for Lucas. There he is, his arm around Daniella’s tiny waist. She looks stunning in a forest-green jumpsuit and high strappy shoes. Daniella is slim compared to Megan’s sturdiness. She’s blonde-haired compared to Megan’s dark-brown. She’s the one Lucas loves; Megan is just the work friend.

Lucas spots her and smiles widely. He is coming over. Another large glug of wine to brace herself. The alcohol goes straight to her head; she’s not much of a drinker.

He leans in, kisses her cheek. ‘I didn’t see you come in.’

‘Just got here,’ she says, feeling heat rush to her face. ‘Congratulations.’

He met Daniella just a month before meeting Megan. Four weeks: that’s all that was in it. With different timing, it could have been Megan celebrating tonight. Perhaps she is fooling herself.

‘Long or short engagement,’ Sakar asks, joining their conversation.

‘Short.’ Lucas grins. ‘We’re both ready to take the leap.’

Sakar laughs, so does Megan, even though her laugh is more like a cough. There’s a permanent lump in her throat these last few days.

Sakar and Lucas start to talk shop: a bad house fire that required several ambulances. Multiple casualties suffering from smoke inhalation and burns. A woman in peri-arrest, who needed to be intubated. Trying to avoid members of the same family being split up and dispatched to different hospitals.

‘I kept reassuring the kids,’ Lucas says to Sakar, his voice heavy with empathy. ‘Told them everything was going to be okay, that they’d see Mum in hospital.’

Where can I find another you? Megan asks silently. Someone a fraction as caring? Someone a fraction as gorgeous, inside and out? Where can I find another you? Where?

Because she has looked and looked and looked. The fact is, she has slept with a lot of men. Mostly one-night stands, only a few proper relationships. It’s obvious, even to her, that she tried to obliterate the significance of the rape by throwing herself into other sexual experiences. The men came in all shapes, sizes, ages and nationalities. She had her heart broken a few times and took it on the chin: the pain was welcome. She broke some hearts herself, and that felt quite cathartic, as though she’d reclaimed a part of herself.

What a fucking night. Two virgins! Sick. It’s a hard thing to obliterate.

Lucas and Sakar are still talking about the house fire.

‘The family dog raised the alarm, barking his head off until Mum woke up. Poor thing was taken to the vet, suffering smoke inhalation too.’

Lucas has no inkling of her feelings, which is good because the last thing she needs is his pity.

She wakes on Saturday morning with a headache and a heartache. She tries to swallow; the lump is still there. Lucas is getting married.

For the last three years she has been conducting a relationship