I spend the morning with Adina, going through her old photo albums and reminiscing. When Warrin wakes up late morning, we have lunch together, and I fill him in on what I’ve been doing for the past five years and the news that I’ve started drawing again. I even tell them about Josh, and they seem genuinely happy I’m finding a way to love again even if it’s all up in the air. Being with them and talking openly about Ki is therapeutic and something I should’ve done a long time ago.
“I think I’m going to take a walk,” I say, placing my plate in the dishwasher. “I have some things I need to do.” I pick up my handbag and sling it over my shoulder. “Is there anything I can get for you at the shops?”
“No thanks, sweetheart,” Adina says. “Enjoy your walk. We’ll be here when you get back.”
I hug them both, then head out the door. It’s a warm, clear summer’s morning, and I’m glad I’m wearing my favourite yellow sundress. I chose it specifically to wear on this day, as it’s going to one of the hardest of my life.
There are two ways to walk from Mereki’s home to the centre of town, and I could’ve easily taken the other route, but that’s not what today is about. Instead, I turn left at the end of Murchison Street towards the old milk bar where my life all but stopped five years ago. Despite the warm temperature, I shiver when I reach the entrance to the alleyway. So little has changed since that fateful night, and I wrap my arms around myself as it replays in my mind.
Fuck! Let her fucking go!
It’s okay, Kalimna.
Don’t touch her. Please don’t touch her.
I’ll save you, Kalimna. I love you.
Ki!
Standing in the place where I was snatched away from Ki’s arms, I acknowledge what I know. My best friend and first love of my life never left this town. He was supposed to be an engineer building enormous skyscrapers and coming home to me each night. Instead, by the time someone found us, I was unconscious, Mereki was dead and so were our dreams.
“It shouldn’t have happened,” I whisper to the empty alleyway, overgrown with weeds and overlooked by time.
A small amount of closure lightens my step as I continue towards the centre of town. My next destination is likely to be just as unpleasant, but equally important.
The first thing I notice when I reach the main street is how many new shops there are. Some of the clothing chains have opened stores, and I’m tempted to check out a fancy homewares boutique, but this isn’t a shopping trip and I know it would just be postponing something I need to do. Today is about confrontation, not avoidance.
When I reach the other end of main street, I stand in front of the shopfront that used to be Smith’s Jewellers, Jacob’s family business. It’s still a jewellery store, but it’s now called Proudman’s, a national chain, and it’s been completely renovated. I’d hoped someone here would help me locate Jacob, but that now seems unlikely. I still harbor resentment towards him and have questions that, five years ago, I couldn’t face asking. But I’m determined to ask them now, so I’ll continue my search.
A bell rings as the door to the shop opens and the man I came here to see walks out, head bowed and eyes focused on the pavement. He doesn’t look up, and I don’t think he’s going to notice me.
“Jacob.”
His eyes snap up, flash with what appears to be panic, then he simply stares. “Emerson,” he says eventually. “What are you doing here?”
“Right now, I’m here to see you.” I’m enjoying his discomfort.
Perhaps to alleviate the tension in his clenched jaw and raised shoulders, he shoves one hand in his pocket, pulls out a packet of cigarettes, removes one, and lights it with a Zippo. “Was wondering if you’d ever show up,” he says after blowing smoke in the air between us.
“Did your father sell the business?” I ask, waving the smoke away from my face.
Glancing at the sign above us, he shrugs. “Turns out he was leveraged up to the eyeballs.” He takes another drag of his cigarette. “It was a forced sale a few years back, but the new owners let me keep my job.”
I have nothing to say to that. He’d been so arrogant about how wealthy his family was and how he was going to be running the business when his father retired. Perhaps a little humility would’ve served them well.
“I need to ask you something.” I change the subject to the reason I’m here.
“I’m about to meet my wife for lunch,” he says, glancing up the street again. “Can you come back later?”
“You got married?”
“Had to,” he replies, flicking the end of his cigarette to get rid of the ash. “Accidently knocked her up. Her parents said they’d buy us a house and help with our living costs if we got hitched.”
“I need to ask you about the night Mereki was killed.” I’m done with small talk. I’ve got questions, and I’m not remotely interested in his love life.
“What about it?” He fixates on the cracks in the pavement.
“I know you and Trent had alibis, but did you tell anyone that I had cash on me? You were the only ones who knew, and I always wondered . . .”
“You think we set it up? You think we’d tell a bunch of out-of-towners to attack you and kill Mereki?”
My blood runs cold. “Out-of-towners, huh?”
His eyes dart to the ground, then he whips his clenched fist up to cover his mouth and coughs loudly. “Everyone thought it was out-of-towners.”
I take a step closer to him. “Look. I know you weren’t there. I know you didn’t attack me or kill Ki. I’m sure he would’ve shouted out names if he’d known any of the men. I just want to know what happened that night. I never believed it was a random mugging gone wrong. It might give me some kind of closure if I have a better understanding.” I wait until he looks me in the eye. “Perhaps you have something to get off your chest.”
He drops his cigarette to the ground and stubs it out with his shoe. His chin drops to his chest. “Trent and I saw you get the cash from that old lady,” he begins. “After we left your stall, Isaac and Troy were drinking with a whole group of rough dudes I’d never seen before.” He glances up at me but can’t seem to meet my eye for more than a second. “Trent was going on about his ‘bitch of a stepsister,’” he says with air quotes, “getting a whole lotta cash for some stupid artwork.”
“You think it was those guys who attacked us?”
“When you walked past with Mereki a short time later, a couple of the out-of-towners were checking you out and saying they’d like to hit that.” He pauses. “Trent told them you were his ‘bitch of a stepsister,’ and the rough dudes disappeared after the music had finished.”
“That’s it?”
He shrugs. “I’ve no idea if they were the ones who did it, but I felt guilty, and I know Trent did, too.”
“So guilty neither of you visited me in hospital or told the police what you just told me?”
He shakes his head. “Trent freaked out when news spread. He thought he’d be charged as an accomplice or something even though he didn’t actually know if the guys he told were the ones who did it.” Lighting up another cigarette, Jacob begins to pace. “We didn’t want to take the risk.”
“I knew you weren’t my biggest fan, but did you ever consider warning me?” I ask, holding my hands out, palms up. “Trent had my number. You could’ve sent me a message.” It could’ve saved Mereki’s life.
After a long silence, he raises his eyes to mine, regret written all over his features. “I was drunk and stupid.”
“Sounds like Trent still is.”
Jacob nods. “He hit the bottle even harder after that night and did a stint in jail about a year later for hitting an old man on a pedestrian crossing. His blood-alcohol was three times over, and his license was already suspended for previous offences.”
I hadn’t noticed a woman approaching until she was standing by Jacob’s side. “Chelsea?” My eyes drop to her very pregnant belly.
“Emerson?”
I glance between her and Jacob. “You’re married?” I ask incredulously.
They both look at me and shrug before Chelsea pats her belly and says, “Number two is due in January.”
“Well good luck to the both of you,” I say with as much sincerity as I can muster. “It was . . . real.”
Jacob gave me what I came for. Nothing is bringing Mereki back, and justice will never likely be served to the men who killed him, but I need to move forward with my life regardless. It’s time.