Under the Southern Cross

by Claire McNab

  When it became obvious that he was floundering, she said contemptuously, "Why don't you come back, sonny, when you've got hard information and some numbers for me to crunch?"

  I almost felt embarrassed for him until I remembered how entertaining he had always found other people's humiliation.

  Steve swallowed, passed a hand over his hair, said with an attempt at nonchalance, "Right. I'll get back to you, then."

  "You do that."

  A discreet bell rang to indicate that we should start moving into the banquet room. Giving a muttered excuse, he stepped aside. Concealing my delight, I glanced at Lee. She looked imperturbable, as though her castigation of Steve had never occurred.

  The meal was what one might truly call "a sumptuous repast." I was seated with a group of established travel professionals and we regaled each other with in-jokes and stories about the industry — or rather, they regaled and I listened with fluctuating attention. Lee had three more days in Sydney and I oscillated between an ardent desire to be near her and a distinct fear of the potential hurt that closeness might bring.

  The banquet, as Sir Frederick was bound to assure me the next day, met every expectation. For me, much of the evening passed in a blur of speeches, toasts and waiters neatly placing, or alternatively whisking away, plates and glasses.

  Sir Frederick expected us to stay until the last stragglers left, and I was burning with impatience when the opportunity to slip away at last arrived.

  There was only a moment between my knock and Lee opening the door, and I was in her arms almost before she'd shut it behind me. "What took you so long?"

  I shut my eyes, breathing in the scent of her. "Oh, I don't know... I had better things to do than rush up here to you."

  She chuckled — that warm, deep laugh that I treasured. "Well, Alex, do you want anything? A drink? A shower, perhaps? A look at the view?"

  "I want you. Just you."

  She'd changed into a silky blue robe and when I undid the belt and slid my hands under it I touched her warm, bare skin. "Darling," I said, aware that it was the first endearment I'd ever used with her.

  Why was it that in the past, other women had only stirred my body, but when Lee touched me it was more, much more? I loved her physically, yes, but the essential Lee, the person — I admired, respected, cherished, adored.

  Can I love you this much, Lee, and not have you love me too .. . just a little?

  Lee was engaged in undressing me while driving me frantic with her hands and mouth. Her tongue was tracing delicate patterns... the hollow of my throat, the line of my collarbone... then, undoing my bra, she began sucking, gently biting, my breasts.

  Cupping her buttocks, I pulled her hard against me. "Bed," I said. "I'm not up to the floor."

  I shuddered from the feel of the whole length of her against my body — and then she was turning me, holding me with surprising strength. "Let me have my wicked way with you, Alex!"

  "Anything. I'm yours."

  Her hands became gentle, slow. She caressed my hips, stroked my thighs — patterns of sensation that grew in intensity as they were repeated.

  At last her fingers drew nearer, circled, yet didn't reach my clitoris. I was swollen, bursting, curved like a bow before an arrow is loosed. "Please!' My teeth clenched, the blood thudding in my ears, I was centered on that one urgency.

  My body leaped at her first deep touch. "Yes!"

  She was kneeling beside me, her mouth on mine, her fingers deep within me, her thumb stroking a tight rhythm. And my hips were moving in accord, thrusting against the pulse of her hand.

  Light flared behind my eyes as I surged to the momentary balance between joy and desire. My labored breathing became a series of gasps, and then, from deep within me, the tremors began, their urgent tempo wrenching a cry from my tight throat.

  It wasn't stopping. "Oh, God, Lee..."

  My body bucked to continuous, exquisite, unbearable spasms.

  Then I was soaked in sweat, struggling for breath, smiling in her arms. "I liked that," I said.

  Much later I woke alone in the bed. I squinted at the illuminated dial of the bedside clock: three-thirty.

  Lee was standing by the window, the diffuse light from outside casting an aura around her. I untangled myself from the sheets and went to stand behind her, sliding my arms around her waist. My breasts pressing against the cool skin of her back, my chin resting on her shoulder, I gazed with her at the floodlit sails of the Opera House and the silent Circular Quay wharfs, stilled from the busy clamor of the day.

  At last I said, "What's up?"

  "Alex, I'm flying home later today. I had a call before the banquet. There's a major problem with an important deal, and I need to be there."

  Don't make a fool of yourself, Alex... it's over.

  My throat was so constricted my voice sounded alien and strained. "There's something I have to say."

  She moved in protest. "No, don't."

  "I can't not say it, now that you're going."

  I felt her tense in my arms. Miserable, driven, I said, "I love you. You must know I love you."

  She turned to face me. "Alex, I care, but not that way."

  Stop now. Don't say anything else.

  "Lee, I love you so much. I can't believe you don't return at least some of it."

  She sounded firm, detached. "I can't love you the way you want to be loved. I can't."

  There was a long, long silence. At last Lee said, "At least, can't we —"

  "Be friends? You're not going to ask that?"

  In the dim light I saw her hesitant, unhappy smile. "Well, yes, I was..."

  "That's not an option."

  I turned away, began to collect my clothes. "What time's your flight? I'll drive you out to the airport."

  "Alex, that's not necessary."

  I stopped and looked at her. "It is. It's rather like a funeral. You need to go through the formal goodbyes."

  I'd gone home, hadn't even tried to snatch any sleep, had showered and dressed. I would be going back to the office after I'd taken Lee to the airport, so I put on a conservative dark dress, thinking sardonically that perhaps I should wear black.

  I knew that eventually the feeling of sharp loss would penetrate my fatigue, but for the moment I was grateful for my tiredness. Lee's flight left shortly after noon, so by mid-morning I was back at the Regent Hotel.

  She was waiting beside her luggage as I drew up, and I thought bitterly that it was obvious she'd wanted to avoid meeting me in the intimacy of her room. We looked at each other silently. What was there left to say?

  I found it ironic that the route to the airport took us along Southern Cross Drive. Out in the desert I'd wished upon the Southern Cross, but my wish had decidedly not come true.

  Lee was twisting her fingers together. I'd never seen her show any sign of nervousness or tension before — perhaps she was feeling as wretched as I.

  She said abruptly, "Alex, it could never have worked out. I mean, you have your career here in Australia, and I'm based in the States."

  "My career's in international tourism. Something would have been possible.

  "You'd leave Australia?"

  "It'll always be here to come back to... and for you, Lee, I'd go anywhere."

  She bent her head. "I'm sorry."

  I was filled with a corrosive anger. "In the past haven't other women fallen in love with you? Do you have a lot of practice in telling them to get lost?"

  Tight-lipped, she said, "I make the ground rules clear, and I get out if it looks like anyone's getting too serious."

  "Is that why you're leaving today? You've manufactured a crisis so you can extricate yourself from a sticky situation?"

  Obviously stung, she turned to me, saying emphatically, "I haven't manufactured anything. I wanted to stay longer and I was sorry when I found I couldn't. I like being with you very much."

  "Not enough, it appears."

  "Alex, if I could give you the love you need, I would."
<
br />   I felt like a kid denied a longed-for present. Childishly, I asked, "Why can't you?"

  She was upset. A tremor ran through her voice. "Alex, if I were to love anyone like that, it would be you. But it's impossible. I can't, and I won't, make a commitment to you or to anyone else."

  My head had begun to ache with slow, painful throbs. "This is futile," I said.

  She'd regained control of herself. "Yes, it is. I can't change the way I am."

  The crowded airport was a kaleidoscope of fragmented pictures: weeping people parting; raucous groups farewelling envied peers; sober business travelers; technicolor vacationers set for holiday destinations. And people were happy, unhappy, bored, excited, impatient, confused.

  My job meant that I was more familiar with airports, particularly Sydney's busy terminal. Up to now I'd been indifferent to its noise and crowds and the extraordinary amount of luggage that people are willing to cart around with them. Today I hated everything about it.

  Lee checked in her suitcases, paid the departure tax and, having run out of things to occupy her, stood with me in front of the passenger entrance to customs. "Alex, I don't want to lose contact with you."

  "I imagine we'll communicate at times through A.P.P."

  "That's not what I meant..."

  I said forcefully, "That's all you'll get." Then, more modestly, "I'm not trying to be difficult, I just can't bear it."

  She looked at me with those gray, steady eyes that I loved. I touched her cheek with my fingertips, then leaned forward and kissed her lightly on the mouth. We said nothing else. She turned and walked away from me.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  I'd come into Tony's office to give him some papers. He asked me to shut the door, then said flatly, "I'm going to tell him today."

  We'd had a month of frenzied work at A.P.P. after the convention — tying up loose ends for overseas clients, negotiating over the invariable hitches that occurred with some deals, liaising between Australian companies and their overseas counterparts. For much of the time Steve had been in Japan working on a proposal to have influential businessmen join well-known Australian golfers on a tour of our most prestigious courses. Before Steve had left Australia Tony had told him that he had no intention of supporting his promotion.

  It was Friday. Steve was due back on Monday. Tony said derisively, "I'd better give Sir Frederick the weekend to absorb the shock, so if Steve decides to dob me in it'll be old news."

  Trying to reassure myself as well as Tony, I said, "Maybe you don't need to go ahead with this. After all, we don't know for sure that Steve's going to say anything."

  He shrugged. "I'm telling Sir Frederick anyway, because if it isn't Steve, it'll be someone else."

  Anxiety and anger combined to make my voice louder than I intended. "I'll stand behind you on this. You don't have to face it alone. If you need me, I'll be there."

  He leaned over to touch my hand. "Alex, thank you, but you don't have to be dragged into this."

  I thought of Zoe, whom I'd let face the music alone. "I am involved. It's my issue too, remember."

  "There's no reason for you to be mentioned."

  I wanted so much to say that I'd go in with him, tell Sir Frederick I was a lesbian, come out of the closet and to hell with the consequences... but I couldn't.

  He rubbed his eyes with the heels of his hands. Sounding resigned, he said, "This could be hello world — and goodbye job."

  My resentment and anger at the unfairness of it all went up a notch. "You've got the law on your side, Tony, both State and Commonwealth. You know you can't be discriminated against on the grounds of sexual preference."

  He grinned sourly. "True. I can't imagine Sir Frederick would like to see me waltzing into the Human Rights and Equal Opportunity Commission - the publicity would be murder." His smile faded. "If there's going to be a problem, it'll be more subtle than that."

  A sharp rap at the door and Jackie Luff bustled officiously into the office. "Tony, these are all urgent queries from Japan." She turned her attention to me. "And here's another fax from Lee Paynter for you."

  Lee's name always made my heart jump, but I knew that any communication would be business. Over the last weeks I'd chased up information for her company, and we'd sent faxes to each other regularly, all of them scrupulously professional.

  I wished I could ask Sir Frederick to assign Lee's company to someone else, but I could think of no possible excuse that would persuade him, particularly as he was convinced that my working relationship with her was an excellent one.

  I went back to my desk, looked at the pile of papers obscuring my in-tray, glanced at the fax Jackie had given me... and thought of Lee. She filled my dreams, she impinged on my life in so many ways. Even when I pushed her out of my mind, all I needed was to hear an American accent like hers, or see a woman with tawny blonde hair, or notice a certain way of walking, or a turn of head— and she was back on center stage.

  Without her, my life had no flavor. I could remind myself that before I met her I'd been content, but it had become obvious to me that I could never go back completely to that sterile existence.

  I grieved, more than I'd have thought possible, and in my despair I turned to my friends, suddenly aware of how few in number they were. I had dinner with Tony and his partner, Paul, and delighted in the different perspective I had of his life. I went to the movies with Sharon, and was tempted to tell her about myself and Lee — but didn't. Most of all, I saw my dear friends Trish and Suzie, finding that I could talk to them about Lee, but not in any detail.

  "Why weren't we introduced to this woman?" said Suzie with some indignation.

  "There wasn't time — and besides, you're too good-looking."

  Suzie had the endearing quality of always believing compliments, so she nodded, convinced by my excuse.

  Constantly, no matter where I was or what I was doing, I wanted Lee. Sometimes I imagined that she must know how I felt and that the power of my emotions could transcend time and space. Mostly, I just endured my unhappiness.

  And of course there was work to fill up my time. I'd had to make several interstate trips, there were serious difficulties with a large West Australian tour company, and we'd had a new computer system installed in the office. Dealing with all these problems meant that when I got home to my lonely little house I was too tired to do anything much but eat, watch television in a desultory way, shower and go to bed.

  Whatever else she'd done, Lee had changed me. I wished I could tell her what an excellent role model she'd been. Her self-acceptance, her openness about her sexual identity, the sheer freedom from fear of discovery that she had — all these made me see how narrow and closeted my life was. And with that insight, there grew in me a desire to be as free as she.

  Tony had made an appointment to see Sir Frederick late on this Friday afternoon. I clasped his hand before he went in. "Give a yell if you need me."

  Tense, unable to concentrate on anything else, I kept watching the office door, listening for raised voices. When, after half an hour, Tony came out, his expression was bleak.

  I took a deep breath. "What happened?"

  "What can I say? Sir Frederick wasn't ecstatic... but then again, he didn't recoil with horror, either. Frankly, he seemed vaguely disappointed in me."

  "And about Steve?"

  Tony's lips tightened. "He heard me out, but he didn't believe me. Told me I must be mistaken, had taken a joking comment from Steve the wrong way..."

  I was enraged. I didn't stop to think. "Come on, we're going back in there!"

  My fury must have been obvious. Sir Frederick half rose from his chair. "Alexandra?"

  "You don't believe what Tony told you about Steve!"

  Sir Frederick sank back into his chair, irritation flickering across his face. "I can't see this concerns you, Alexandra. It seems to me a misunderstanding between Tony and Steve."

  "A misunderstanding?" I said furiously. "You think an attempt to blackmail Tony by threaten
ing to tell everyone he's homosexual is a misunderstanding?"

  Sir Frederick reddened with anger. "Leave it be. I've had all I can handle for the time being."

  Tony said, "Alex..."

  I ignored him. Armored by my fury, I locked eyes with Sir Frederick. "You don't mistake a threat like that if you're hiding the fact that you're gay. I know, firsthand."

  His chin went up. "Firsthand?"

  A giddy sense of freedom swept through me. "Yes, I've been through it. And I wasn't as brave as Tony. I didn't tell the truth about myself."

  Sir Frederick looked away. "I see."

  "I don't think you do. Can you imagine what it's like to live in a world where you have to pretend to be part of it? And when someone like Steve finds out your secret, what a weapon he has to use against you... as long as you let him get away with it."

  Sir Frederick looked uncharacteristically weary. The famous ramrod posture was wilting a little, and even his bristling white mustache seemed to droop. "I see," he said again. Then, looking back at me, he gave a faint, ironic smile. "This explains a lot of things..."

  My anger evaporated in astonishment. With wry amusement I realized that he was referring to my lack of enthusiasm for his well-mannered pursuit of me.

  It was my turn to feel weary. Sliding my arm through Tony's, I took my leave of Sir Frederick.

  It was late. Everyone had gone when we came out of Sir Frederick's office.

  "Alex, you didn't need to do that... but thank you."

  I put an arm around Tony's waist. Hugged him. "How do you feel?"

  "You won't believe it, but I feel great. No, more than great — exhilarated, because I'm free." He took my hands. "Everyone will know about me, but Sir Frederick will keep quiet about you if you ask him to. There's no need for you to make a statement on my behalf."

  "Typical male conceit," I said. "Any statement I make is for me — not you."

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  In the weeks following Tony's admission, some things changed. For example, Sir Frederick now treated him with reserve, ostentatious in never touching him, whereas previously he'd often clapped him on the shoulder. And there were a few snide remarks — but none from Steve, who had apparently been spoken to by Sir Frederick. Some people were embarrassed or cool, but overall Tony seemed to have weathered the worst of it.