“It doesn’t matter,” Falk had said. “It has to be your choice.”
“Yes.” She’d leaned against him. “I’d still like to know, though.”
And so he’d told her. He’d do nothing. Gemma had looked up at that in surprise, but Falk had realized something while sitting in Dwyer’s office, seeing the guilt on the man’s face and the photo of his family in front of them and the charity collection tin on the counter. Neither he nor Gemma needed to do anything more, Falk felt as sure as he could be. Dwyer would make this right on his own.
Naomi was still scrolling through her phone as she put the bottle of wine down on the outdoor table. Raco opened it up and began to pour, and Falk caught Gemma’s eye. She gave him a smile, small but real, and a mutual understanding passed between them. They would tell the others tonight, but later, when the teenagers had wandered off and the little kids had fallen asleep in front of a movie. When the evening had settled and the talk and food and company would blunt the shock.
“I guess if Dwyer’s really going, there’ll be a gap at the cop shop. Hope you’re not planning to up and leave us,” Charlie called over. “Shane’s barely recovered from the spreadsheets.”
Falk realized Charlie was talking to him. “Who, leave? Me?”
“Yes, mate. You.”
Raco laughed. “Seriously? He’s still AFP, if anything. That’s not even close to how the national structure works.”
“Whatever. Bet they wouldn’t say no, though.” Charlie grinned at Falk. “If you were keen.”
“I’m not,” Falk said.
“No?”
Falk shook his head. He sat at the table with his friends, the sun low and the food nearly ready. The day done and the vineyard stretching out beyond. He could feel Gemma’s hand in his, Luna at their feet.
“Never say never, I suppose. But no. Not now.”
This was good, now, and it was enough. He had all he wanted.
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
Sometimes researching a book involves huge amounts of patience, frustration, and eye-watering detail, and sometimes it involves long, glorious days basking in the lush beauty of South Australia’s wine regions. Exiles was an absolute joy to write, not least because of the setting. My sincere thanks to the many winemakers and vineyard owners, particularly in the McLaren Vale and Barossa Valley regions, who kept my glass filled so well as they offered me valuable insights into their businesses and lives in this truly gorgeous part of Australia.
My gratitude once again to the vast teams of people who have worked so hard to bring this book to readers, including Claire Craig, Clare Keighery, Ingrid Ohlsson, Cate Paterson, Charlotte Ree, and Danielle Walker at Pan Macmillan Australia; Christine Kopprasch, Amelia Possanza, Nancy Trypuc, and Maxine Charles at Flatiron Books; and Vicki Mellor and Lucy Hale at Pan Macmillan UK.
A huge thank you to my agents: Fiona Inglis and Benjamin Paz at Curtis Brown Australia; Gordon Wise, Liz Dennis, and Caoimhe White at Curtis Brown UK; Daniel Lazar at Writers House; and Jerry Kalajian at the Intellectual Property Group.
My love and appreciation as always to my family—Mike Harper, Helen Harper, Ellie Harper, Michael Harper, Susan Davenport and her parents Keith and Diane Davenport—who read and supported my books from the very start, and to Ivy, Ava, and Isabel Harper.
To my beautiful children, Charlotte and Ted Strachan, who inspired all the best parts of Eva and Henry Raco, and to my husband, Peter Strachan, who inspires all the best parts of everything; thank you for what you do to make these books possible. I love you very much.