“Yeah?” Gemma had turned to look at him, interested. “Like what?”
“Working things out,” Falk said. He hesitated, but the night was warm and the beer was cold. “I really like that moment when you’ve been untangling something for ages—years sometimes—and it can feel like it’s all going nowhere, but then suddenly one thing changes and it’s like—” The memory of the sensation was enough to make him smile. “The world makes sense. Everything fits together and it’s so clear. I love that bit.”
“That must feel really good. Although”—she tipped her beer bottle knowingly—“I believe the official phrase you’re looking for is ‘cracking the case.’”
“Apologies, yes, I didn’t realize you were across the jargon.” He grinned and she laughed. “But yeah. That’s the one. It does feel good. Like it’s restored the balance a bit. Set something right.”
She said nothing, just watched him for a minute.
“The problem is all the late nights and weekends to reach that,” he said eventually and shrugged. “The resolution’s great, but it takes a lot to get there.”
Gemma swung her beer bottle thoughtfully between her fingers.
“I suppose there’s annoying stuff with every job,” she said. “I guess the key is knowing when you’re just tired of the paperwork and politics, and when the whole job isn’t right anymore. It’s hard to spot that line.” She screwed up her eyes a little, the way Falk noticed she did when she was thinking back. “It took me a really long time to decide to leave California.”
“Did it?”
“God, yes. So long.” She lifted her bottle and took a sip. “Mainly because it wasn’t terrible. Not at all. And in some ways, it was exactly right. It was challenging. I was good at it. But day to day, there were lots of things that started adding up. I had friends, but I never had time for them. I was always tired, I had this whole country on my doorstep that I never saw because I was working. But I’d put in so much effort to get that job, I thought it was what I wanted. And it actually was, some of the time.”
“How did you decide in the end?”
“I made a list.”
“Really? What, pros and cons?”
“Yeah.” She looked a little embarrassed, but there was no need. Falk was himself quite fond of a good long list. “But the thing was, it was actually pretty even. And I think that’s why I’d been finding it so hard to decide, because there wasn’t a clear winner. So at first, that felt worse because I obviously wanted to make the best choice, right? But one day I was at my desk, and I remember thinking if there was no clear winner, maybe that meant there was no loser, either. The decision was hard because both options were decent ones, with good and bad points. So if there was no wrong answer, maybe I could”—she shrugged—“choose, I suppose. What kind of life I really wanted to go after.”
Falk took a swallow of beer and thought about that. The house creaked and settled behind them. Out ahead, he could see the distinctive silhouette of the land and trees against the inky night. The sky was clear and he could smell the eucalyptus in the air. “Are you happy with what you chose?”
“Yeah, I am. It’s not for everyone, I get that.” Gemma smiled. “God, my teenage self would be furious with me. But that’s part of living, isn’t it?” She looked over and met Falk’s gaze. “What we want changes.”
He watched her for a moment longer and then, almost involuntarily, moved his hand. A distance both tiny and huge, across the arm of his chair, until his fingertips touched hers. A beat passed, then he felt a warm spark rush through him as she pressed back. They sat like that, side by side, looking out at the sky and the bushland, until the veranda door slid open with a clatter.
“Dad says I have to come home. Oh—” Zara’s head appeared. Her gaze flicked down to their hands, then up again, her eyes dancing with surprise and faint amusement. “Sorry. My grandma’s arriving tomorrow for the christening, and he doesn’t want me out late. So…” Her voice was coy. “When are you going home, Aaron?”
“Well, I guess that would be right now, Zara,” Falk said. He felt rather than saw Gemma smile, and she gave his fingers a final small squeeze as they stood. Falk helped her carry the bottles in, and they looked at each other across her kitchen as Zara rattled around gathering up her bits and pieces to leave. Gemma’s arm brushed Falk’s as they moved through to the hallway.
“Bye, Joel,” Falk called from the front door, and the boy gave a wave.
“Thanks, Aaron. See you.”
“And hey, good luck at the christening tomorrow.” Gemma leaned against the porch post as they stepped into the night, the light spilling out behind her. “Your big moment. We’ll look for you there.”
“Yes. That’s right.” Falk smiled. “And thanks again for tonight. This was—” What? A lot of things. “So nice.”
“Yeah.” She smiled back. “It was.”
The street was quiet as Falk and Zara walked along, past the homes and down through the bushland again toward the now-familiar reservoir track.
“Gemma’s awesome,” Zara said out of nowhere, into the dark. “She’s a good person, you know? I like going to their place.”
“Yeah,” Falk said. “That was fun.”
He could feel her curiosity buzzing, but he said no more.
“I always think she’s pretty as well.” Zara cracked first. “Not like Naomi is, obviously, but different. She has a nice face.” She looked over so expectantly that Falk had to laugh.
“She does.” He pictured it. She really did.
As they neared the water, Zara’s expression dimmed a little.
“And, hey, thanks again for helping Joel,” she said. “With the cleanup and the video.”
“I’m not expecting to be much help with that.” Falk looked over until she met his eye. “I need you to be realistic.”
“No, I know. But just taking him seriously is good.” She picked up a stone and threw it into the dark water as they walked. She had a good arm. “He deserves to be listened to. And I know Dad thinks I’m clutching at straws, believing what he says about Mum not coming through the exit near him, but I do believe him. I know Joel would tell me the truth because that’s how he is. He’s not doing it for any other reason.”
“Like what?”
“Well, the fact that he likes me.”
Falk, who privately agreed with that assessment, kept his face neutral. He remembered what it was like to be that age, and felt a certain solidarity with the young awkward guy with his cleaning cloths and quiet way. “You think so?”
“Yeah.” Zara smiled and shrugged. “I do think so. But he knows we’re just friends so he doesn’t push for anything more. He’s good with it, acts normal. That’s why I like him. But still—” She flashed Falk a little witchy glance, her voice suddenly lighter. “Sometimes things are obvious, right?”
“I suppose.”