Unmasked Read Free Page A

a few steps towards it then stopped.
    She looked up again to see if he was watching. He just assumed she would come up. Emma concluded from this that he was trying to suggest that it was completely innocent. Trying to keep it light. It was no big deal. Of course she would come up. It was just coffee. Why overthink it? But Emma couldn’t help but overthink it. Men were rarely innocent.
    She recalled their short conversation in the kitchen the night before. There was no doubting his intent then, drunk though he was. She wondered if he had seen her going down to the beach and whether he had lain in wait for her to return. She laughed at herself. What was she afraid of? Was he so irresistible that entering his domain was akin to sleeping with him? Killing time with Sebastian would give David more opportunity to recover. She rounded the corner and pushed open the gate.
    The house was newly renovated. Under a columned portico three steps led into a small foyer with a large curving marble staircase rising up to the next floor. It was obscene, tasteless, in the style of many newly developed Mosmanhomes. The kind of house a self-made man builds for himself. In the foyer Emma saw that a separate set of stairs led to a lower level. She could see the obligatory lap pool and the billiards table. She climbed the marble stairs and passed through the open plan dining and lounge rooms to the back of the house, which opened out onto another lounge and the balcony on which Sebastian had stood. Emma didn’t find him there. He was in the kitchen tucked away on her left.
    ‘What do you think?’ he asked.
    ‘There are no books.’
    ‘No. The man who owns the place doesn’t read. He is very proud of the fact.’
    ‘It shows. Does your home have books?’
    ‘I don’t have one.’
    Emma walked out onto the balcony. The view was her view only seen from a slightly different angle. This house was on the lower side of the street. Then she noticed the large telescope that was tilted towards the beach below.
    ‘It isn’t the beach you should be watching. It’s the big yachts,’ she said, taking hold of the telescope, being careful not to move it. She put her eye to the finder scope. It was trained on the part of the beach she habitually chose.

    ‘The yachts?’
    ‘They think they’re out of range. They don’t take into account the power of one of these.’
    ‘I’m glad mine is moored out of sight at Rushcutters Bay.’
    ‘Have you something to hide?’
    ‘Perhaps. But tell me, what do you see when you’re spying on the boats down there?’
    ‘I’m not telling. But they do things people won’t dare do on the beach until nightfall.’
    ‘I will be sure to follow your advice. How do you take your coffee?’
    ‘White with one.’
    Emma had assumed Sebastian was the same age as her husband, but looking at him in the bright morning light he seemed older. He wore jeans again and had bare feet but the blue t-shirt had been swapped for a white one. He certainly took care of himself. He reminded her of someone. He was unmistakably handsome. Had nice hands, too, she noticed as he put down her coffee.
    ‘How’s David doing?’
    ‘I left him asleep on the sofa. He seemed comfortable. How’s your head?’
    ‘Fine. I’m one of the lucky ones. No hangovers.’

    ‘Oh, you mean you’re a drunk!’ she said and laughed. His look told her she had hit the mark. ‘All the best people are,’ she added to soften the blow. She dropped her beach bag on an empty chair and sat down at the glass-topped table. As the balcony faced east, there was no avoiding the morning sun. She turned slightly so that she wasn’t being blinded.
    Sebastian placed a plate of croissants on the table and laid out two plates, butter, jam and a jar of Nutella. Emma took a sip of her coffee.
    ‘You don’t remember me, do you, Mrs Benson?’
    ‘No, I don’t. But then we met over a year ago, I think you said. While you don’t even remember what you said to me last