Detained

“Shut up, Russ.”

An announcer on the radio said, “Billionaire jailbird, Will Parker, surprised journalists in a doorstop today by declaring his love for Channel Five’s News Tonight host, Darcy Campbell.”

She groaned and speed-dialled Peter.

“Turn it off,” said Russ to Loud, but not to spare her ears, so he could eavesdrop on her call.

She ignored him and counted the rings. Pick up, Peter, pick up. The call connected, Peter’s, brisk, “Peter Parker.”

“Peter, where is Will?”

“Darcy, hey. At a rough guess, at his beloved Confucian temple. But I have a nasty feeling you’re going to tell me something different. Should I be afraid?”

“Very. He’s in Sydney with Ted Barstow.”

“What?”

“I just saw him. I spoke to him. He remembers me.”

“Wait,” said Peter. Darcy heard him yell, “Wendy, where’s Bo?” A second later he said, “Son of a bitch. Get Aileen in here,” then was back on the call. “Bo’s missing too.”

“I have to find him, Peter.”

“You and me both, sister. His phone is off. He only uses it to call out. We have to find Bo to find Will. Fuck! What was he doing?”

“I think he was meeting with Barstow.”

“Darcy, he’s not well enough for anything like that.”

“I know. Peter, I’m so scared for him. He walked into a media scrum. They hit him with questions about the murder charge and the riot. He panicked. I don’t know if he’s all right.”

“He remembered you?”

Darcy closed her eyes. The panicked, pained expression on Will’s face was painted under her lids. “I think he remembered everything, all at once.”

Peter was silent. But from eight thousand kilometres away, Darcy knew what his anxiety would feel like. Like a drill grinding in his belly.

“Peter?”

“We need to find him. I need to call Dr Yang. I need to get hold of Bo. I’ll call you back.” He rang off.

“Well?” said Russ.

“Stay out of my face.”

He laughed. “Princess, you’ve got about five minutes to get your story straight.”

She looked up. They were streets away from the studio. She’d heard Loud call their producer Merrit, and she knew he’d be waiting.

“Don’t look so ‘end of the world’, this is fantastic for you. You can say anything you want; unless you think Parker will deny it. And it didn’t look like he was up for much more than a stiff drink if you ask me. You’re the love-lost heroine. He’s the misunderstood billionaire.” Russ gestured with a thumb. “Up go the ratings, and up goes the salary on your next contract. So quit acting like a spoiled kid. Parker just handed you the keys to the kingdom.”

Will had just handed her heartache, indecision and dread. And before she’d had a chance to get over losing him, he was publicly declaring his love. What would he want her to do? Mark Ma

son’s words about reporting the news, not making it rang in her head. She’d screwed up again, but she couldn’t hide from this if she wanted to keep her job.

Her phone rang. She looked down, not Peter. An unknown number. She sent the call to voicemail. She heard Loud say, “Lay off, Russ, she’s shook up,” and she looked up to meet his darting eyes in the rear-view.

Her phone went off again. Another unknown number. She’d have to turn it off, because now she was the story, it was going to keep ringing. It went again. Brian. No way. Terminate call. She was going to miss Peter if he called back. She was going to walk into a studio and talk about her relationship with Will without knowing what that relationship was, so several million people could be titillated in their post-workday, after-dinner haze.