Bitter Nothings Read Online Free PDF Page B

minutes to clear her mind. Was that too much to ask? The river and her sanity beckoned.
    Once on the trail, her pace dropped to a stroll, the few gum trees along the bank providing little protection from the midday sun, even for the parched foliage below. The air smelled earthy – a mixture of hops from the nearby brewery and baked eucalyptus. A cyclist whizzed past. Then another. Up ahead a small wooden jetty offered refuge.
    Halfway through backing down the wooden steps-cum-ladder to the jetty, her scalp tightened. Her hands gripping the rail, she peered up, half-expecting her gaze to encounter a pair of legs. She breathed out. Nothing. Just nerves.
    Ducks gathered on the water below as she dropped the last few centimeters onto the landing. She watched them for a moment, before her gaze was drawn to the footbridge down the river. Her heart skipped a beat. A man, his bald head like a beacon in the sunlight, leaned on the bridge parapet, looking her way.
    Taking a deep breath, she told herself not to be so paranoid. Not everyone was out to get her. Still, although she wasn’t close enough to see his face, something about him seemed familiar. On impulse, she waved.
    One moment he was there, the next gone. Was he tailing her? Had she spooked him? Or was he simply some poor office escapee taking five minutes out to enjoy the scenery? Not that she considered herself scenic.
    Suppressing the hysterical giggle bubbling in her throat, she climbed back up to the footpath. Then after positioning her keys between her fingers in a makeshift knuckleduster as taught in her self-defense classes, she headed toward home. And the bridge.
    Two chatting teenage girls, each carrying the requisite bottle of water, crossed her path without a glance in her direction. She hurried on, reaching the concrete steps leading up to street level in no time.
    From somewhere above her, she heard raised male voices. Her step faltered as she recognized the louder of the two as her ex. She hadn’t imagined it; someone had been following her. Call her cynical, but she didn’t believe in coincidences, especially when it came to Nathan.
    Her first instinct was to leave the two warring men to it and take a detour under the bridge, exiting the trail further along. But then, no one could accuse Dervla Johns of being a coward. That, bull-headedness, and plain curiosity drove her up the steps, two at a time.
    Nathan had the bald-headed man from the bridge bailed up against the rail. “…you have two choices: tell me who you are and why you’re following her, or tell the police.”
    “Look, mate, I don’t know what your game is, but I don’t have to tell you a damned thing. I should be the one reporting you to the police.”
    “Is this a private party, or can anyone join?” She crossed her arms.
    Nathan jerked sideways, revealing the other man.
    Up close, he looked younger than she’d expected. Long, relatively unlined face. Bald head, part nature, part razor. Slight build. She placed him in his mid to late thirties. “Aren’t you the reporter who was hanging around outside my place earlier?”
    “Reporters ask questions,” Nathan interjected before the man could reply. “They’re in your face, not skulking around like some low life.”
    “You can talk,” she hissed at him. “What part of ‘leave me alone’ don’t you understand?”
    “I was worried about you, babe. And for good cause, too.” He jabbed a finger in the bald-headed man’s direction.
    She scowled at Nathan and shook her head. He’d keep. “I’m sorry,” she said to the other man, “I don’t believe we’ve been formally introduced.” She thrust her hand out. “Dervla Johns.”
    The man blinked. “Err… John Bailey.” He wiped his palm on his jeans and shook her hand.
    Nathan’s mouth opened and closed like a fish gulping air.
    “So, John Bailey,” she continued, “what is it that you want from me?”
    “To get this lout and his conspiracy theories out of my