odious, and she hated him coming anywhere near her. Most women did except for Wendy; she’d been convinced she could change him.
Wendy and Steve didn’t have children of their own, but Steve worked at being an avuncular presence in Dave and Kerry’s household when Daniel came along. As long as he behaved like a decent adult in front of Daniel, Kerry had agreed to tolerate his presence, but only because he was Dave’s mate. After Daniel’s funeral, Steve, like many of their acquaintances, kept his distance from Kerry and Dave. People were at a loss to know what to say to them, so they lost contact instead.
“You were so right about him. I’m surprised he has any friends, let alone so many,” said Ian, once more at her side. “He’s a real piece of work, isn’t he? And so’s the other bloke.”
“Steve was never charming, but I don’t recall him being this bad,” said Kerry, choosing not to reveal that the ‘other bloke’ was once her husband. “I suppose he’s pretty pissed. Most of these people are probably here because they like Wendy.”
“Or feel sorry for her,” said Ian, and Kerry smiled faintly at his perceptiveness.
Kerry gazed at Dave, pitying him for what he’d become. It occurred to her that Dave had probably been the reason she wanted to attend the party. She was curious to gauge her feelings for him and, perhaps, to gauge his feelings for her. But it was plain that he had found refuge close to the centre of Steve’s ugly universe. Discovering this made her resent having made the effort to attend. She was on the verge of suggesting to Ian that they leave when her attention was once more drawn to Steve’s ribald commentary.
“You should see the birthmark on his arse; it’s the shape of an apple with a leaf growing out of it, and it’s as red as one, too! I’ve seen it!”
“How big is it, though?” someone shouted.
“Bigger than his cock, that’s for sure!”
The men laughed, except Dave, who stared at the floor, suddenly serious.
Kerry caught her breath. Had she really heard that? She looked at Dave, and the expression on his face confirmed that she was not mistaken.
“Are you ready to leave, Kerry?” Ian asked hopefully.
“Um..,” she said, “I’ve spotted a couple of people I haven’t seen for a few years, and I’d like to say hello to them. And I suppose I really should wish Steve happy birthday - if only for Wendy’s sake.” She looked at Ian and smiled, “Give me half an hour, maybe? No more, I promise. You needn’t hang around if you’d rather not. I’d completely understand if you want to escape.”
Ian, however, wanted to wait until Kerry was ready to leave and, to her annoyance, he seemed determined to wait by her side. Wanting to be alone to think, she excused herself to visit the bathroom, and once she’d locked herself inside, she closed the toilet lid and sat down. Thoughts multiplied and collided with each other leaving a chaotic fusion of straws that Kerry tried to grasp while mutely raging at what her instincts were telling her. There was only one way to make sense of the words that had left Steve’s lips.
After nearly a quarter of an hour had passed, she rose to her feet, inhaled deeply and exited the bathroom. She looked to where the group of men were still gathered, though now there were fewer of them. “Dave,” she said in a voice barely louder than a whisper, but he seemed to have heard her; or sensed her. He looked up and their eyes met. He nodded in the direction of the balcony, and both made their way towards the door. Kerry walked across to the balcony’s railings, beyond the reach of the light that came from inside the apartment, and looked at the reflections of the city lights that danced and flickered on the harbour. David closed the door behind him and hovered behind Kerry in silence.
“Did you say anything to him? Did you tell him?” she asked softly without turning to face him.
Dave moved to Kerry’s side and gazed down at the ground twenty metres below. He shook his head slowly, “No.”
The noise inside was muted by the glass doors, but they could still hear Steve’s voice, “Where are ya, Dave, you fat bastard? Where the fa-ark are ya?”
Kerry turned to face Dave, trying to fathom the truth. Had he revealed something on a drunken night out with Steve, or during the months he’d lived with Steve and Wendy - after he’d walked out on her?
“I never,” he insisted.
“There y’are! Caugh-cha with your hand up a Sheila’s dress!” Steve suddenly burst through the door. “You sl… Oh…” He belched and looked vacuously at Kerry, “Hello, Kez; didn’t know you’d arrived.”
He kicked the door closed, then turned, open-armed, and slid across the tiled floor to embrace Kerry. She moved sideways, and he stumbled into Dave.
“Whas-the-matter? Don’t I get a birthday kiss?”
Kerry pushed past him, making to return inside.
“Dave? Tell her it’s my birthday. She’s such a frigid bitch; no wonder you left her.”
Kerry stopped. She looked at Dave, who said nothing but stared stupidly at the floor. She looked back at Steve, full of loathing. “Would you mind getting me a drink, Dave?” she asked, moving back to the railings.
Dave glanced apprehensively at Kerry and then disappeared inside.
“What’ve you been up to, darlin?” Steve slurred, putting his arm around Kerry’s waist.
She grabbed his hand and flung his arm away.
“Not talkin’ to me? Cum-on, giz a kiss.” He leaned towards Kerry, puckering his lips, but fell onto the railings and slid to the floor. Laughing, he held his hand up towards Kerry to help him to his feet, but she didn’t move. Slowly and unsteadily, he managed to pull himself onto his feet once more.
“Dave,” she said, “does not have a birthmark on his backside.”
“What the…?” Steve screwed-up his face in surprise. “Are you pissed because I told everyone that?” He started laughing, “Ooh! Protective of him, are we?”
Kerry grabbed him around the neck and pushed him backwards. In his drunken state, he had no strength to resist the force of Kerry’s weight pushing him onto the railings.
“Daniel did, though,” she snarled, letting her hand fall to her side. “It was a scar. No one but Dave and I knew about it. We never told anyone - not even his grandparents, and certainly not you.”
There hadn’t been any reason to tell anyone. Daniel was eight years old when he fell onto a campfire which, though it had been extinguished for several hours, was still hot enough to burn him. It scarred him across his buttocks with the shape of an apple with a leaf; it had barely healed when he was abducted. It had never been in their minds to tell anyone about it.
“It was you.” She shoved him harder into the rail. “It all makes sense now. All the little details you knew about him, and the presents, and your insistence on coming on our family outings. You never missed him playing soccer, or watching him at the Surf Lifesaving meets …You were stalking him, weren’t you?”
“What are you talking about? Wendy and me…,” Steve wheezed, “we couldn’t have kids. You know that. We loved Daniel. You’re mad, Kerry. Get the fuck off me.”
“You just happened to be fishing off the rocks next to the cove when his body was found - I never, ever, heard you talk about fishing before that. And you know about Daniel’s scar...” She took a step away from him and forced herself to slowly inhale and exhale several times in an attempt to collect herself. It was one of the techniques her counsellor had taught her. “How long were you ...,” she began calmly enough, but fury swept aside her self-control and she screamed at him, “Why?”
Steve sniffed loudly and retched as his stomach began to surrender the considerable volume of alcohol he’d consumed throughout the evening. He turned and heaved over the railings.
“Why?” Kerry wailed.
She took a small step closer to Steve, and at that moment, his tall, thin frame - weakened by drunkenness - overbalanced, and he toppled over the rails. He neither screamed nor struggled as he fell and, it appeared to Kerry, his body seemed to slowly rotate in space until it hit the ground, head fir
st. She heard a thud, no louder than a book being abruptly closed.
Kerry gazed dispassionately at Steve’s motionless body and a sense of unreality anaesthetised her. Had she pushed him? She thought not, but she couldn’t be certain. She had definitely had the urge to - she couldn’t deny that - but had she actually done it? She could have…she might have. After all, the moment the words about Daniel’s scar had left Steve’s mouth, she had tried and sentenced him. She had deliberated for fifteen minutes in the bathroom on his comment and what it signified: on Steve’s proximity in time and space to where Daniel’s body was discovered, Daniel’s unusual behaviours at the time - bedwetting and tantrums when she and Dave left him with Wendy and Steve to mind while they went out to dinner - and his increasing anxiety. Daniel had told Kerry and Dave that it was to do with school, and Kerry had stormed down to the school to complain about bullying to a bewildered principal. But, no, she knew there was no physical evidence that Steve had anything to do with Daniel’s death, and so she couldn’t have pushed him; at least, not physically.
She glanced over the railings to look at Steve’s body once more. Her lips fleetingly formed a thin smile. She inhaled sharply, drew her eyebrows together and tensed her mouth before throwing open the door. “Oh, my God! He’s fallen off the balcony,” she screamed. “Somebody help Steve!”
As everyone hastened down the five flights