52 Waratah Avenue

by Lynne Wilding

  Two hours later, Leith drove her home. The pethidine injection she’d been given to dull her discomfort was making her fuzzy in the head, fuzzy enough for her not to feel tense in his company.

  ‘I haven’t thanked you for what you did,’ she said softly. Her cheeks warmed with mortification, but in the car’s darkened interior she knew he couldn’t see that and was grateful. ‘Thank you.’

  ‘That’s okay,’ Leith shrugged her thanks off — as if he did good Samaritan deeds all the time. ‘It was lucky I came down in the elevator when I did, otherwise he’d have had your purse and you’d probably have a cracked skull, instead of a few stitches in your back.’ He glanced across at her, and there was puzzlement in his tone, ‘Why didn’t you just give him your bag?’

  ‘I don’t know.’ Now that he’d asked the question, she had to think about it. ‘I think I just got angry because Ashworths, even though it was only the basement, had been invaded by such a weasel.’

  ‘Michaela, you put your life in danger.’ He shook his head in bewilderment but refrained from saying more, sensing that she was too emotionally fragile to take any critical remarks without hostility. He asked instead, ‘Would you recognise the mugger if you saw him again?’

  ‘Yes.’ Michaela was positive about that. She was relieved that Leith hadn’t said that her resistance had been foolish because she now saw that it had been. You put your life in danger. His words echoed through her brain. She had. However, she took comfort from the knowledge that she had given a concerned Boris a very good description of the mugger, which he’d pass on to the relevant police department.

  ‘Boris said the police will need to interview you, for a report. Probably some time tomorrow, if you’re up to it. I said you wouldn’t be going into work for a few days.’

  ‘You had no right to tell him that,’ she suddenly bristled. ‘I can’t afford time off to c-convalesce. I-I’m doing stock intake quantities for next spring’s fashions. They have to be finished this week.’

  ‘Someone else will have to do them. I’m sure that when your mother learns of your injury, she’ll insist you recuperate at home for several days.’ His tone was uncompromising and dared her to argue with his logic.

  Cross with his high-handedness — she didn’t like being organised — she shifted uncomfortably in the seat, but it hurt like the devil to do so and she soon stopped. Leith was right, she had to confess. Mum was going to have a fit when she found out about the attack, which was an additional stress her mother didn’t need. So, like it or not, just this once she would go quietly.

  They reached the Beaumont home and Leith pulled the car up near the front door. He half turned his body towards her and gave her a searching look. ‘I appreciate that you’re being brave and all that, but you’ll be in no condition to work, not for a few days. I’m sure Joel and the rest of your family will say so, too.’

  Deep down she knew he was right. She felt bloody awful — the painkiller was wearing off — but she didn’t like anyone, especially Leith, telling her what she could or couldn’t do. Never had liked having to take orders, even as a child. For a few seconds his gaze locked with hers and a silent duel of wills went on between them, until some sixth sense warned her that Leith was as stubborn as she. And … what the hell, she did feel like shit!

  ‘I suppose you’re right,’ she conceded.

  ‘Good. Let’s get you inside and into bed.’

  In the wide slate-tiled foyer of the stately home, Leith and Michaela came across Caroline. She was coming from the kitchen towards the staircase, a mug in her hand.

  Ignoring the man behind Michaela, Caroline stared at her sister. One hand was bandaged, her stockings were holed at the knees, the skin grazed. Her skirt and blouse were smudged with what looked like a mixture of dirt and oil, and her black hair tumbled about her face, giving her a slightly wild look. Around her shoulders she wore a man’s jacket which was spattered with something dark, possibly blood.

  ‘Good God, what happened?’

  Leith introduced himself and gave a rundown of what had occurred. Michaela listened but didn’t contribute. She was all in, although, in typical Michaela fashion, she tried to disguise her fatigue.

  ‘We must get you to bed.’ Caroline’s tone was solicitous.

  Leith put an arm around Michaela’s waist and looked towards the staircase. ‘Up there?’

  ‘No. Michaela has a suite of rooms on the ground floor,’ Caroline informed him. She led the way down the wide black-and-white slate-tiled hall with its treasure trove of antiques in glass cabinets and paintings adorning both walls. ‘In here,’ she beckoned as she opened Michaela’s door.

  After Michaela had finished high school, Laura had had the downstairs study, an ensuite and a section of the banquet room redesigned by an architect. It had been turned into a large studio-style apartment with its own entry via a small patio and French doors to give Michaela the privacy she needed. Joel had a similar arrangement on the first floor, which meant that both of Laura’s younger children could live at home for as long as they wanted with sufficient privacy and space for them to be comfortable.

  Leith manoeuvred Michaela to the wide bed and helped her sit on the brightly coloured doona. Stepping back, he said to Caroline, ‘I’ll leave you to organise her.’

  Michaela watched him glance around the room. He was memorising everything, but for what reason? Curiosity. Nosiness. She couldn’t be sure. He was giving Caroline several sidelong glances, too, she noted pettishly, as if he found her attractive.

  In a pink satin dressing gown, with her blonde hair loose about her shoulders, Caroline, she had to admit, looked damned good. Something began to niggle inside her, despite her tiredness, and it was a totally alien response. What was it? Jealousy. How bloody ridiculous! Why would she be? But … Leith looking at her sister as if he were more than casually interested was creating this very strange sensation deep within her. She didn’t like it. So what! She tried to shrug the strange reaction into oblivion. Why should she care how he looked at Caroline?

  ‘You’ll tell Laura in the morning, won’t you?’ Leith quizzed Caroline.

  ‘Yes. First thing.’ Caroline smiled at the sporty-looking, fair-headed lawyer. Leith Danvers was obviously conscientious and caring. And certainly an attribute to Jeffrey Markham’s firm, and to Ashworths. ‘Thanks, Leith, for everything.’ She saw him to the door. ‘You can let yourself out, can’t you?’

  He nodded that he could and opened the door to leave. ‘Goodnight, Michaela, I hope you manage to sleep okay.’

  ‘I’m sure,’ Michaela covered a yawn with her unbandaged hand, ‘I will.’

  After Leith had gone, Caroline helped Michaela out of her clothes, into an oversized T-shirt. Like Fern, her sister didn’t wear pyjamas or nighties. Michaela lay on her side and Caroline tucked the covers in around her.

  ‘Can I get you anything? Are you hungry? A cup of tea, or maybe some toast?’

  Michaela had enough energy left to shake her head. She hadn’t eaten since they’d had nibblies and drinks in the boardroom earlier, but she wasn’t hungry, just exhausted and so damned sore. ‘I’m okay … I just want to sleep.’ She gave another yawn, then thought of something she should tell Caroline. ‘You know …’ her eyelids fluttered wearily, ‘Leith’s not married … but he’s only thirty-three.’

  ‘I thought as much,’ Caroline whispered. ‘I’ll be back first thing in the morning.’

  Caroline’s expression was concerned as she watched Michaela’s eyelids droop and close. In repose her sister was very beautiful and while her liveliness was extinguished by sleep, the sparkle in the brown eyes veiled, the tendency to be ever active stilled, she remained quite lovely. Caroline reached forward to brush a dark curling tendril of hair from her sister’s forehead, thinking that it would be nice to get to know Michaela better than she did. But that was up to Michaela. With her high spirits and energy and the invisible barrier she had put up between them, her sister had made that very difficult. Car
oline’s jaw firmed. Not impossible, though. Now that she was home, she had the opportunity to get closer to her half-sister but, knowing Michaela as she did, that wouldn’t happen without a good deal of diplomacy and patience on her part.

  She turned off the light at the doorway and, picking up her mug of now cold milk, went upstairs to bed.

  ‘How can you expect me to retire when this sort of thing happens?’ Laura complained to Caroline after seeing Michaela in bed, obviously in pain. Her voice was tight with controlled anger.

  Having said goodbye to Fern as she went off to school, the two women gravitated to the living room. Had anyone asked, Caroline would have described the way the room was furnished as elegantly casual: polished timber floors over which a thick Axminster rug rested; a Carrara marble fireplace with a huge mirror in a gold-leaf frame hanging above it; embossed beige curtains drawn back so the front garden and her mother’s beloved waratahs could be seen; a Louis XVI writing table that had cost a small fortune because it was the real thing, not a reproduction; a scattering of easy chairs in different fabrics that complemented the pair of two-seater sofas, arranged around another marble coffee table. Her mother didn’t approve of clutter, thus the understated elegant look.

  Caroline didn’t answer her mother’s question until they’d sat down. ‘Mum, the attack would have happened whether you were in charge or not. You can’t personally control this sort of thing. Anyway,’ she took a deep breath, ‘your retirement really isn’t a matter for debate. I talked to Rupert MacIntosh the other day, when you were at Ashworths. And without betraying patient privilege, he admitted to being concerned because you haven’t made your decision.’ Looking at her mother, Caroline’s heart went out to her. Every day she saw her becoming more harried, more concerned about what to do and, consequently, more tired.

  ‘You know, I don’t want to have to gang up on you, but you know that together, Joel, Michaela and myself own enough shares in Ashworths to request your retirement.’

  ‘And?’ Laura stared back at Caroline, her features betraying nothing other than a certain tautness.

  ‘We could petition the board of directors to retire you.’

  ‘Really!’ Laura’s backbone firmed, but at the same time a glimmering of respect for her daughter’s tough stand rushed through her. If her children had got together to conjure up such a scheme, it wasn’t to advance themselves in Ashworths. They were concerned about her health. ‘I suppose that’s true. You could vote me out of the CEO’s position, but I could delay retirement until the AGM, which is still several months away.’

  ‘No-one wants it to come to that,’ Caroline assured her, then frowned. ‘I don’t understand why you’re … prevaricating. You’re not well. You know that you need to take things easy. The family is worried about your well-being, and Daniel Blumner would make an exceptional CEO. Everyone at Ashworths knows he would, and you do too.’

  ‘I agree.’ Laura’s response was slow, thoughtful. ‘I do have faith in Daniel. And Michaela and Jo. In fact, in all the people who work at Ashworths. The problem, love, is me.’ She glanced towards her daughter and smiled, almost guiltily. ‘It’s hard to let go of what I’ve come to love and cherish so much. Ashworths is me. Without it I … I fear I may lose my identity, my sense of purpose.’

  ‘You won’t, Mum, believe me. Don’t you see, you’re so much more than Ashworths’ founder and CEO. You’re a wonderful mother and a loving grandmother. We’ve all seen how much you enjoy having Fern close to you, and she loves it too. You love golf and you have a reasonable handicap. You could play more often and improve that, if you weren’t working. You’re involved in several charities too; you could become more involved if you had the time. You and Ruth Levy have talked for years about making a pilgrimage to Jerusalem — you’ve never had time to do that, but you could if you retired. Once you get some energy back.’ Caroline gave her mother a confident smile. ‘There is life after Ashworths. It’s time to change direction, Mum. I’m doing that myself by looking around for another career.’

  Laura studied her daughter with growing respect. Caroline had said what she’d had to say with diplomacy, grace and a sense of compassion. Clearly, her firstborn had been thinking the problem through for some time before she said anything. It was also obvious that Caroline’s intelligence wasn’t limited to her ability with music. Laura was seeing other strengths that could be of benefit to Ashworths. There was a common sense in Caroline and an honesty similar to her own.

  Then, in the movement of a heartbeat, Laura saw her path. She could hand over Ashworths to others and know it would be in good hands, and she was equally sure that if Caroline wanted to, she could play an active role in the company. She would talk to Daniel about that, soon.

  A tap on the door preceded Daphne’s entry to the room. ‘Laura, Mr Blumner and Mr Jakelic are here to see you and Michaela. Look,’ she showed both women a splendid arrangement of red and white roses that had just been delivered. ‘For Michaela. From Mr Danvers.’

  Laura and Caroline exchanged glances. Caroline smiled as she stood up. It would be hard not to tease her sister about the flowers, but she mustn’t. Some sixth sense told her that Michaela was sensitive when it came to the young lawyer and even though her half-sister didn’t want to see it, she believed an underlying attraction was developing between the two — certainly on Leith’s side. She said to Daphne, ‘Let me take the flowers to Michaela while you bring the men in.’ A swift glance at Laura’s expression told her a decision had been made, but she knew well enough not to rush her into expressing it. Her mother would do so only when she was good and ready. For the moment she had to be satisfied with that.

  An hour later everyone, Daniel, Boris, Caroline and Michaela, who was bored with lying around, sat in the living room.

  After Daphne removed the morning tea tray and retired to the kitchen, Laura cleared her throat and began. ‘Well, what you’ve all been waiting for: my decision. I’ve decided to retire at the end of the month — full-time retirement. I won’t go in for a few days and then have the rest of the week off. I think it’s best to cut ties completely. It’s the only way it will work for me.’ She looked at her MD. ‘Daniel, I hope that you’ll assume the combined position of MD and CEO, for the present, until another MD can be appointed. I’d suggest to the board that you bring someone in from interstate, for the experience, maybe from Melbourne.’

  ‘I’m honoured to accept,’ Daniel said with solemn grace. ‘Warren Tremayne, from Melbourne, would make a fine addition to the Sydney store.’

  ‘I’m glad you’ve decided, Mum,’ said Michaela warmly. Her smile was sincere.

  ‘Yes,’ added Caroline. A huge sense of relief surged through her. She hadn’t been sure how her mother would respond to the veiled ultimatum she had thrown down this morning, but if it had been the catalyst needed to encourage her to make the decision, well and good. Whatever the reason, the waiting was over. Now everyone could settle down and get on with things.

  ‘My last directive to the company will be’ — Laura paused to look at each of them — ‘and I haven’t discussed this with Caroline, but I’d like to offer her a position in Ashworths. Something in middle management to start off with, perhaps in personnel or public relations, because she appears to have a knack for handling people.’ She smiled craftily at her eldest daughter. ‘Well, Caroline, are you interested?’

  On and off her mother had hinted at this question, but until now Caroline hadn’t taken it seriously. Did Laura feel sorry for the loss of her music career? Had that prompted her offer? She knew her mother well and, in the final analysis, she didn’t believe so. Could she do it, could she be of use to the company? Her gaze moved to Daniel. He smiled confidently at her, as did Boris. She didn’t look at Michaela, for she knew what she would see in her sister’s eyes: resentment and a lack of enthusiasm. Disregarding that, a frisson of excitement began to build inside her. It could be very interesting and stimulating to learn how her mother’s business ran, the ins and
outs of it. And it would be very different from anything she had ever done. Why not … ? The thought took hold. If Laura thought her capable of doing well at Ashworths, surely she should consider the possibility.

  Caroline finally glanced at Michaela, saw her lips tighten. One person in the room wasn’t happy about the offer. ‘I don’t have any experience, I’d be very green, and I don’t believe you should manufacture a position just for me.’

  ‘Don’t worry, dear, you’ll earn your salary,’ Laura assured her. ‘Naturally, you wouldn’t be given too much responsibility at first, the intention being to ease you in over a period of time. You’d move through various departments, learning how the business runs.’ Laura’s tone was frank. ‘Look, dear, take a day or two to think about it, then decide.’

  ‘Caroline, I believe you’d do very well at Ashworths.’ Daniel confirmed his endorsement.

  ‘Yes,’ agreed Boris. ‘It’s always good to bring “new blood” into a company, livens the place up.’

  Michaela’s endorsement was noticeably absent until her mother looked in her direction. Sensing a response of some kind was expected from her, and though she was loath to give one, she eventually said, ‘Yes, Caroline, do join the company. But let me assure you, it won’t be anything as glamorous as playing Mozart or Chopin for adoring audiences.’

  Caroline was sensitive and recognised that Michaela’s voice was tight and that her encouragement was forced. She decided to ignore that and hope that in time her sister’s antagonism would lessen once she realised her big sister wasn’t a threat to her career aspirations. ‘That could be just what I need. A new world to explore and conquer.’

  Conquer. Indeed! Michaela’s hackles rose and she only just managed to bite back a sharp retort. She did so because, to her, Caroline was, largely, an unknown quantity. Her use of the word ‘conquer’ may not have held any special significance but, if her sister planned to usurp her at Ashworths, then she was in for the fight of her life …