An Isolated Incident by Emily Maguire Page A

obviously knew well, though not, from what May could tell, a relative or girlfriend. May was a bit concerned the girl didn’t take in anything Matt said, so busy was she looking at May from under her heavily augmented eyelashes. If Matt noticed, it only added to his air of extreme contentment. May wondered if she should ask him if their engagement would be official once they’d finished the meal.
    â€˜So, um, I hope you don’t mind, but I looked you up. Like, on the internet not on the database or anything. Ha ha ha ha.’
    â€˜Hey, nothing to hide here.’
    â€˜Nah, I never thought that. It’s just the name of the newspaper on your card, I hadn’t heard of it, so I thought I should check it out and that.’ He knocked back half a glass of water in one go, then added reassuringly, ‘It looks like a really good publication. You should talk to Mr Chin at the newsagency about stocking it here.’
    â€˜Oh, no, it’s digital only.’
    â€˜Like, just a website?’
    â€˜We call it a newspaper because that’s the format, but it’s not printed on actual paper, no. Our subscribers get a full edition sent to their iPads or whatever each morning and the website updates all day and night.’
    â€˜And you make money from that?’
    â€˜Well, I get paid a salary. The owners will make money at some point, I guess, but it’s a new venture. Only been operating a couple of months, so, ah, not exactly a cash cow at this point.’
    â€˜Huh.’ He sat back, nodded. ‘And, um, your profile thingy on the site said you grew up in Sydney but, like, hope you don’t mind me saying but you don’t look like you – I mean, like, are your parents from . . .’
    May kept her pleasant, neutral reporter face in place. Let the silence hang.
    He swallowed nothing. ‘. . . from overseas somewhere?’
    â€˜Nope, both born and raised in the western suburbs of Sydney.’
    â€˜Yeah? Huh. Alright! Here comes the pumpkin soup. Aunty Jo makes it herself and never skimps on the cream. So what’s it like being a crime reporter up in Sydney? Bet you’ve seen some exciting stuff.’
    â€˜Oh, please, you’re a cop. You wouldn’t bat an eyelid at anything I’ve seen.’
    â€˜I dunno. Sydney’s a whole different kettle of fish, I’d reckon. Round here, don’t see much worse than pub brawls and domestics. Up till now, anyhow.’ He scooped a dripping spoon of soup into his gob, swallowed. ‘Yeah, I’d be pretty happy to go the rest of my life without seeing anything like that again.’
    May itched for her notebook. ‘Pretty bad, huh?’
    â€˜You ever seen anything like that?’
    â€˜Like . . .?’
    He glanced towards the counter then leant forward. ‘A murder. Body all messed up.’
    â€˜Not like that, no.’ May hoped her tone suggested the viewing of countless other kinds of bodies messed up in different but no less traumatising ways rather than the embarrassing truth, which was that she’d never even been to the scene of a murder before this morning, let alone caught a look at a body. Six weeks ago she was still the senior reporter at the tiny community paper she’d been hired at as a cadet. The AustraliaToday job wasn’t any better paid, but it was an opportunity to do the kind of work she’d wanted to since uni. It had taken her so long to get to it partly because journalism jobs were few and getting fewer all the time, and crime reporter positions in particular were held by old-timers who gave the impression they wouldn’t hesitate to use some of the underworld tactics they’d learnt on the job if some upstart tried to push in on their beat.
    But even so, she probably could’ve done more to advance her career. Some time in her mid-twenties she’d stopped nagging her editor to let her write longer-form pieces, stopped subscribing to any