The Recipient by Dean Mayes Page A

up to. Who she’s been speaking to. Fedele told me today that she had been in touch with him.”
    Peter held himself, taking a sip from his own glass, as he thought about what he was going to say next.
    â€œShe just worries about you, Casey,” he began. “I worry about you. You can’t keep abusing your body the way you do, especially after that scare. You can’t expect us to stay silent.”
    Both Casey and Peter were surprised by the sudden vigour of his observation and both of them blinked in the middle of the silence that followed.
    â€œYou don’t go anywhere or see anyone,” he continued, emboldened. “You never come to the house; there’s three months worth of mail piling up there, including potential job offers. Instead you hole yourself up here for weeks at a time, working ridiculous hours for God-knows-who. I mean, when was the last time you had any sort of time off?”
    Casey clutched her wine glass and glared at her father, unable to respond. Peter sat back, withdrawing from a potential confrontation.
    â€œYour mum just wants you to be okay,” he continued, adopting a more gentle tone.
    â€œWell then, why doesn’t Edie tell me that herself?” Casey challenged, her facade cracking.
    â€œBecause she—” Peter began.
    â€œBecause she doesn’t approve of my life,” Casey pressed, answering her own question. “She doesn’t approve of where I choose to live or the work I choose to do or the people I choose to associate with. She would rather I be back at home, in my sickbed where she can be in control. She’s hasn’t come to grips with the fact that I have carved out a life for myself, that I can take care of myself now and I don’t need her to care for me 24/7!”
    Peter sat silent across from Casey, digesting her defence, but unsure of what to say next. He knew that she was at least partly right about her mother.
    Sensing her father’s awkwardness, Casey softened her expression. “Look, I’m good, Dad. Really good,” she said. “I’ve just finished a big contract and I’m going to take some proper time off.”
    â€œA legitimate contract?” Peter probed, cocking one brow for effect.
    Casey levelled her own brow into a frown. “Yes, Dad,” she retorted. “A very legitimate contract.”
    â€œIt’s just that…Prishna Argawaal has been sniffing around again,” Peter said solemnly. “She thinks you’ve been involved in some illegal stuff.”
    Casey paused in the middle of lifting her glass and studied her father.
    On more than one occasion, Casey’s reputation on both sides of the cyber fence had aroused suspicion within the ranks of the Victoria Police—despite the fact she was one of their most valuable assets in an ongoing war against cyber-crime.
    The mention of Argawaal’s name was enough for her to grind her teeth.
    â€œShe would say that. Look, Prishna’s just shooting blindly because she’s got a problem finding a real bad guy.”
    â€œSo…you’re not involved in anything untoward then?” Peter ventured.
    Casey narrowed her eyes. “Dad. How many times do I have to reassure you? I don’t do clandestine anymore. I gave that up. You’re starting to sound like Mum.”
    Peter smiled and shook his head. “All right, all right. I’ll let it go. But if Prishna is going to keep bugging us, you know?”
    Casey nodded confidently. “I’ll deal with Prishna. I’ve given the Cyber-Crime Unit more assistance than just about any other consultant out there. I think I’ve proven myself more than enough with them.”
    Though his doubt lingered, Peter chose to let it go. Reaching for the wine bottle in the middle of the counter, he poured himself another glass.
    â€œHow has your sleep been?” he asked.
    Casey blinked at the sudden change in subject.
    â€œIt’s