“Those photos were taken out of context. The man on his knees is Robert Yee, a news photographer. Will is yelling at the two security men who are holding him down. He’s telling them to let Robert up. Unfortunately I didn’t understand that at the time.”
Liarne said, “But these photos led to Will Parker being called un-Australian and to demands for him to publicly apologise for bullying.”
Darcy nodded as she spoke, knowing the camera was fixed on her. “Yes they did. It was a gross injustice.” One she might never recover from causing.
“The photos also led to Will’s kidnapping.”
“They did. And to the allegation of murder, and his jailing.”
“So in a way, it’s your fault these dreadful things happened to Will Parker.”
Darcy dropped head. She knew she shouldn’t, but it was impossible not to flinch in some way. From couches and kitchen stools more than a million people were looking at her guilt and judging her.
She lifted her chin. She had to tough this out. She had to use this opportunity to do right by Will for all the wrong she’d initiated. “That’s right, Liarne. I didn’t do my job as a journalist thoroughly enough, so a very good man’s reputation was damaged. I will be sorry for that for the rest of my life.” Over Liarne’s head she saw Alan grinning. Admission of guilt on top of scandal and romance was a sure ratings point.
“But you certainly made up for it. You investigated the murder allegation, and found evidence of Will Parker’s innocence.”
“That’s right. With help, I was able to discover the man Will was accused of murdering died in a restaurant fire in his village, and not as Will was accused, in a fist fight in Shanghai.”
“It’s an incredible story, Darcy. Especially since your contact with Will was so very limited.”
; Darcy took a breath to cover the convenience of the lie as it was fed to her. “That’s right, Liarne.”
“It’s pretty close to love at first sight, wouldn’t you say?”
There was no way to answer that question, but Darcy knew Liarne didn’t expect one. She was using the question as a statement. And through the magic of television and the use of almost truths—it was a newborn fact. Darcy and Will love at first sight. It wouldn’t matter if she denied it, it would sound like she was trying to wriggle out of it; it was simply too luscious to discredit.
Liarne continued. “I believe you went to see Will in prison.”
“I went to Quingpu prison with Will’s brother, Peter, to present the evidence of his innocence.”
“Can you confirm there was a riot?”
“There was most definitely a prisoner-led riot. I was fortunate to escape injury. But Will was badly beaten by guards because he shared his foreign prisoner privileges, movies and food, with Chinese prisoners.”
“The Chinese authorities deny this happened.”
“I believe Will has the scars to prove it did.”
“Did you see Will again before today?”
No one needed to know how badly Will had been hurt, and how many days she’d sat by his bedside. Or that until a couple of hours ago he didn’t remember her. The shortest answer was the least complicated lie. “No.”
Liarne acted surprised and shocked. “So explain to us how, after a few brief meetings and instigating this chain of events that led from the photographs to Will’s imprisonment, he declared today he’d go through hell and back to protect you?”
“I believe Will is a compassionate man. And he was obviously surprised to be put on the spot today. I think that was just his way of saying thank you for the investigation that led to him being freed.”
“Are you saying there’s no passionate romance?” Liarne’s voice drifted upward to emphasis her scepticism. She narrowed her eyes in disbelief, so the audience would know she was cynical. Darcy knew under the acting she was annoyed.
“Liarne, I’m saying Will Parker is an incredible person. He’s smart, funny, strong and compassionate. I think his reputation as a businessman and an outstanding Australian should be restored.” Darcy angled her body more fully to face the camera, “and I’m saying girls, he’s still very much available.”
“It’s a fractured fairytale, Darcy. Stranger than fiction, and hard to believe.” Liarne changed her body position, effectively finishing the interview on a note of disbelief, on a reinforcement of the story’s hidden certainty. “We’ll go to a break, and when we come back, prescription drugs and alcohol. What happens when they mix and how they destroy innocent lives.”
“Out,” called the floor manager.
Liarne ripped her earpiece out. “That was a shit interview, Darcy. You could’ve given me something more than that fucking sanitised version of events. That was a PR pimp for Will Parker. You have no idea how badly you just messed up.”