myself to fend a blow. Better a broken arm than a smashed face, I guess. Mind you, a comminuted diaphysial fracture of the radius and ulna is pretty painful. I should know.
‘I didn’t mean for us to meet like this. I just happened to be walking past.’ Liar, liar, pants on fire. ‘I’m Diane Rowe. Can I make a time to talk with you?’
‘Talk about what?’ he said, folding his arms across his chest. It looked more impressive like that. That was the point. But already his anger was dissipating. I’m five foot ten, athletic and can hold my own in more situations than most people, but he had it all over me in size and strength and knew it. The knowledge of it calmed him, just like that. I wasn’t so sure he’d stay all that sanguine when I told him his ex-wife had employed me to check up on their daughter. Sunny stepped out from behind her father’s bulk. She eyed me closely.
‘You know Karen has been released from prison,’ I said, as an opening gambit. They both tensed and glanced at each other but neither responded. ‘I’ve been asked,’ I said, skirting the point, ‘to talk to Sunny. To see how she is. Check that she’s okay.’
Justin swelled up like a baboon’s arse as he closed the small gap between us.
‘Who told you to check on Sunny? Tell me who told you to do that!’
He was right in my face, spit hailing my cheek. What Justin lacked in height he made up for in bulk. I was scared but knew I had to stay exactly where I was. I needed to keep my voice calm and, ideally, I needed to not shit my pants.
‘Karen asked me to make contact,’ I said, trying not to flinch in anticipation of a punch. ‘I’m sorry it’s happened like this. That’s my fault, not hers. I should have phoned you first.’
‘Who the hell are you?’ He sounded more confused than angry.
‘I’m a missing persons expert. I try to find people who are missing.’
He breathed heavily on me for a full ten seconds — I counted. Then, finally, he took a step back. My butt hole and half of my flight muscles relaxed.
‘Well, you can fuck off then. Sunny isn’t missing. She’s here with me. I’m her father.’ He wanted to say more but held it back because of Sunny. I saw him struggling and he knew it. ‘Go inside,’ he said, turning his back on me and attempting to usher Sunny inside the gate.
She shrugged his arm off her shoulder. ‘No. I want to hear her.’
‘I said go inside.’ He knew she wouldn’t.
‘If she was sent by … M … by Mum.’ She halted, embarrassed, I think, by her hesitation at the word, but then picked it up again. ‘I want to hear what she has to say.’
He glanced up and down the street and then pushed the gate open aggressively. ‘Let’s take this inside.’
Presuming the ‘this’ to be taken inside was me, I dutifully followed Sunny down the path to the house. Justin walked close behind me. I could feel the warmth of his breath on my neck. It was meant to be intimidating. It was.
So far my judgment had been way off course, but I was determined not to make things worse by gabbling on about the impressive Carrara marble benchtop, although the kitchen was, without doubt, an impressive designer number, all grey on grey and white on white. Justin pulled a chair out from the billiard-sized dining table and leaned in to indicate I was to sit on it. I perched awkwardly with my bum on the hard wooden edge. The room smelt of burnt milk. Justin filled the space with his bluster, and it was a large space to fill. Eight metres by eight metres, would be my guess. Sunny tilted her shoulder against the wall, levelled a cool gaze at her father and then transferred it to me. Physically, she resembled her mother. The same almond-shaped eyes and long neck. She was painfully skinny but there was a steadiness about Sunny that her mother didn’t have. This girl is brave, I thought.
‘So why did Karen send a private detective to check up on me?’ she asked. She’d been practising this question on the way into the house. Using ‘Karen’ instead of ‘Mum’ made it easier for her. We both knew it was bravado.
‘I’m not a private investigator … I, I’m …’
She interrupted me with a forced