by Maggie Brown
Abby looked at her in disbelief. “Did he send any child support payments to your mother?”
Victoria shook her head. “Mum saw to my education by waitressing. They were hard times for both of us but I won’t go into that. She eventually remarried when I was in my early twenties.”
Abby battled to contain her temper. It was inconceivable to have that sort of upbringing. Her own family had only ever nurtured her. “And he’s here tonight?”
“Yes.”
“What are you going to do about it?”
Victoria dragged a heel across the floor. “What can I do?”
Abby took her face in her hands and rubbed her thumbs lightly over her lips. “Have you ever had a good look at yourself, Victoria Myers? You’re gorgeous, as well as incredibly bright and successful. So don’t give me that crap. If you want to get on with your life you have to face him on your terms. So let’s go in together and damn well say hello. Just remember, I’ll be with you and I don’t take rot from anyone.”
For a moment Victoria stared at her and her face lit into a smile. She reached for Abby’s hand to clasp it in a firm grip. “Let’s go, tough girl. That’s why you’re wearing the pants tonight. What are we waiting for?”
* * *
As she made her way past the tables, Victoria held her head high, determined not to show signs of weakness. She grasped Abby’s hand a little tighter, reassured by its warmth. Only a few metres away, someone at his table nudged her father and said, “Those two women seem to know you.”
He watched them approach, frowned, and his hands bunched into fists.
“Hello, Dad,” Victoria said. She studied him as he rose. The years hadn’t been kind. His face was etched with deep lines, his nose was sharper now; he was thinner, and his hairline had receded halfway along the scalp. He looked frailer, no longer the big, frightening man of her youth.
“Hello, Victoria.”
“Abby, this is my father, Andrew Eggers. Dad, meet Abby Benton.”
Abby mumbled a hello which was returned with a curt nod.
One of the men hastily pulled two more chairs to the table. Opposite, a florid man with a trimmed ginger beard eyed Eggers with a quizzical look. “You have a daughter, Andrew?”
Victoria ignored the chair and turned to him, expertly concealing her emotions. She’d had years of practice with boardroom politics. “Yes, Andrew has a daughter. Mind you, he left my mother and me high and dry over twenty years ago but I still have some of his genes, more’s the pity. I made sure to discard his name though.” She swept her eyes round the table. “Is he your boss?”
At the end of the table, a tall, thin man in his sixties said in a clipped British accent, “I’m the senior partner of the firm. Andrew works for me.”
Victoria raised her eyebrows at her father. “Not the top dog? Amusing—you always had such high expectations of me and you didn’t get there yourself.”
The veins in his temple bulged and his face tinged red. “I’ve done well enough. And what do you do, Vic, that you can be so arrogant? You’re still an upstart who doesn’t know her place, I see.”
Abby spoke up. “Your daughter is a very successful woman, Mr Eggers.”
He swept his eyes over her body. “Let me guess. You’re another dyke. Are you two pervs together?”
Abby’s eyes widened in shock and a look of angry disgust settled on her face. “Excuse me? What century are you from? Our relationship is definitely not open for discussion. And for your information, Victoria could buy each one of you fifty times over with her petty cash. Haven’t any of you heard of Victoria Myers of Orianis Minerals?”
A cough echoed from the senior partner, who quickly got to his feet. “Actually I have. Please accept my heartfelt apologies for my employee’s behaviour, Ms Myers. I am embarrassed to say you are one of our clients. We handle your European investments.”
Victoria frowned, her displeasure clear. “Your firm is Barnaby and Hartford, I presume. And you would be?”
“Michael Hartford.”
“Well, Mr Hartford, perhaps I shall have to reconsider our association,” she said gravely.
Hartford seemed to shrink a couple of inches. “I hope that won’t be necessary. We are prepared to make any changes to our staff you deem necessary.”
“I’m sure we can come to an understanding. We will be at the hotel for another day. Would you visit me at eleven tomorrow morning to negotiate my terms? My father owes my mother a great deal of child support,” Victoria said flatly.
“Who the hell do you think you are, Vic?” Her father’s shout brought startled looks from patrons nearby.
“I’m someone who’s no longer afraid of you,” Victoria said, completely calm now. “And really, Dad, looking at you here, I wonder why I ever was. You’re just a loathsome bully. The only reason you got away with it then was because you were bigger than me. But you’re not now.”
As she turned to go, her father erupted. His chair upended as he swept it aside and raised his hand. Before Victoria could move, Abby was in front of her. “You touch her, Mr Eggers, and I’ll slap an assault charge on you before you can blink. And if you say one more word, I’ll accuse you of the intent to do physical harm.”
“Andrew!” Hartford snapped. “Go home.” To Abby he nodded his approval. “Thank you. Now. Get. Him. Outside,” he ordered the other men at the table. He turned to Victoria. “Please accept my sincere apologies. You have my assurances he won’t bother you again. We shall take our leave and I will see you tomorrow.”
As they hurried off, Victoria reached for Abby’s hand.
“Come on, honey, it’s time we left. You go on up to the room while I say our goodbyes to our host,” said Abby, giving her palm a squeeze.
Victoria felt completely washed out, the adrenaline that had energized her, gone. She simply nodded and slipped out the door.
* * *
Victoria was in the lounge nursing a scotch when Abby came in. “I’d like to thank you for what you did,” Vic whispered.
The vulnerable tone forced Abby take a deep breath to stop the threatening tears. She settled down beside Victoria and put her arms around her shoulders. “Your father’s a proper swine, isn’t he?”
“Yes,” Vic whispered in anguish. “I’m sorry you had to see that.”
“Don’t be worried about me,” said Abby, giving her back a comforting rub. “I’m used to confrontation in my legal aid job. We get some nasty stuff to contend with. God, he was only an amateur compared to some of the shitty people I’ve seen.” She pulled back to study Victoria’s face and gently kissed her forehead. “I was really proud of you tonight, Vic. Once you settle down you’ll realize you’re free of him. He’s nowhere in your league, so forget everything he’s done to you. Don’t even think about him anymore. Don’t give him that satisfaction. Now I’m going to get a drink? I could do with one after all that the drama.”
Victoria gave a hint of a smile. “Yes Ms Legal Aid. You were awesome.” She returned with the glass, her voice serious again. “You’re a hell of a nice woman, Abby, and I’m proud to be your friend.”
Abby curled her fingers around the glass as she heard the words with a few misgivings. She didn’t want to be the woman’s friend; she wanted to be her lover. She hoped Victoria wasn’t going to put her up on a pedestal like Chantal. God forbid.
They sat quietly for a while with their drinks, comfortable in each other’s company. “Time we hit the sack. You go in first to change,” said Abby.
Victoria was already in bed when Abby finished her shower. Too keyed-up to sleep, Abby heard muffled sobs. Eventually the weeping got the better of her, so she padded over to Victoria’s bed and slipped under the covers. She curled her body gently against Victoria’s back and the crying quieted a little. Abby threaded her hand under Victoria’s arm to stroke her stomach. “Let it all out, honey. I’m here with you.”
After a while Victoria moved out of the embrace and turned around. She snuggled into Abby, with
her head nestling under her chin. Abby held her close, rested her cheek on the silky hair and sniffed her scent. A moment or so later Vic’s breathing slowed and Abby knew she had fallen asleep. The heat of the body against hers made Abby’s senses reel, the longing to touch and be touched almost overpowering in its intensity. It took all her willpower to curb the urge to stroke the silky skin. She was only there to give comfort and support. Sheer exhaustion sent her off to sleep.
Abby woke at dawn to a breath on her neck and a soft body pressed against her. Groggy, she opened her eyes to find dark ones staring into hers. Abby made no move to shift; she relished the contact now that her body wasn’t demanding instant satisfaction. “Good morning,” she said, feeling suddenly shy.
Victoria stretched and Abby could feel her desire rise again like the sun. Abby propped herself on an elbow, though kept their hips pressed together. She extended a finger and lazily stroked Vic’s stomach. “You feel better, honey?”
“Um…much better, thanks to you.”
“What are you going to say to Hartford this morning?”
Victoria raised her hand to brush a wayward curl away from Abby’s eye. “I’m going to tell him that he’d better start docking money out of my father’s wages every week until all the back payments are made to Mum. If he doesn’t, they’ll lose our account.”
“No more?”
“I don’t want anything from the bastard we aren’t entitled to. His humiliation will be the extra compensation.”
“Good for you,” Abby said. “You’re free of him now, honey. You can live your life how you want without any regrets.”
“I know. It’s like a whole house has been lifted off my shoulders. When I saw him last night it was strange. It wasn’t so much hate I felt as pity. He was only a shell of the man I’d feared all those years. A man who’d turned his back on his family and for what? He didn’t look happy.”
“I’m so glad I was able to help,” murmured Abby. She pressed closer.
“You were wonderful,” Victoria said in a distracted whisper.
Abby wet her lips and moved her head closer. Victoria’s mouth looked luscious, full and moist, ready to be consumed. Her pink tongue was peeking out, like the centre of an exotic flower. Their mouths were only inches away. Suddenly cups clattered in the kitchen. The sensual haze enveloping Abby vanished like a spent breath of wind. She went still and groaned. “Damn, Fiona’s back from her walk.”
“Yes,” said Victoria in a strangled voice. “I suppose we have to get up?”
They looked at each other and grimaced as Fiona’s voice floated in. “Come on you two. Up you get. It’s already seven o’clock.”
As Victoria disappeared out the door, Abby flopped back on the sheets and groaned, “Shit!”
Chapter Twenty-Seven
The last day in Seoul, after Victoria met with Harford, they spent the afternoon packing and filing the bookwork. That evening when Victoria went for her usual swim, Abby was tempted to join her, figuring it was time they had a serious talk about their feelings. But in the end she decided to tackle it that night in the privacy of their bedroom. It would be cosier. And she really needed to work out what photos to delete before they left Korea; her picture folder was chockers.
After she settled down in front of her computer, she clicked on her Gmail account before she started. Two messages were from friends, one from her mother and another from an address she didn’t recognize, [email protected]. She opened it.
Hi Abby,
It’s Patsy from Perth. We’re in Paris for five days and then we’re on to Spain. Where are you? I’d love to catch up with you again.
Cheers—
Patsy.
Abby rested her fingertips on the keys as she reread the message. Patsy the charming nurse. Well! Well! What a nice surprise. She replied with the suggestion they meet somewhere in the city and that they exchange phone numbers. She left it to Patsy to get back to her when and where. She decided to postpone her talk with Victoria until after the rendezvous with Patsy. Vic might be more amenable to Abby’s heart-to-heart if she thought a rival lurked on the horizon.
They flew out of South Korea the next morning and landed at de Gaulle at five in the afternoon. After a lazy day off to recover from jetlag, the following morning Abby and Fiona went to the Louvre, while Victoria visited the accountant who handled her French investments. The day after, Victoria planned to take them to view a chalet she was considering in Bordeaux.
Victoria was relaxing on the balcony when Fiona and Abby returned from the museum. “How was the Louvre?” she called out.
“Unbelievably crowded,” answered Fiona and collapsed in a chair.
Abby tossed the bundle of glossy literature on the table and walked to the railing to gaze over the city. “Good view of the Eiffel Tower, isn’t it?” Then she turned and joined them on the deck chairs. “The Louvre was spectacular.”
“Did you get to see much?”
“A lot of the famous pieces, but it’d take more trips to see the lot. It’s so big.” Abby kicked off her shoes and wriggled her toes. “Fiona got tired after a while, so we stayed around the old Dutch Masters in the afternoon. I’m particularly interested in them.” She laughed. “Besides, their paintings of drunk and stoned people were far more interesting than all that religious art.”
Victoria smiled. “I know what you mean. How do you feel, Fiona?”
“Oh, I’ve got my strength back. I’m nearly one hundred percent now.”
Abby eyed the Scot fondly. Now that the business part of the trip was over, Fiona’s worry lines were no longer evident. She was leaving them in a week’s time for Scotland, her excitement barely contained at the thought of seeing her family.
“Where are we going tonight for dinner, Vic?” Fiona asked.
“Le Flamboire. The chefs specialize in long-braised meats.”
“You two should go out on the town afterwards. It’d be a shame to be in Paris and not take Abby out to see the nightlife. I’ll turn in after we eat. I couldn’t walk another step,” said Fiona.
Victoria raised her eyebrows at Abby. “You wanna go for a stroll down the Champs Elysées?”
“Sounds romantic, but sorry, I’m meeting a friend at six thirty so I won’t be going with you to dinner.”
“You’re meeting a friend?” said Vic, her voice incredulous. “When did this happen? You never mentioned you knew anyone in Paris.”
Abby tried for unruffled. “I just got the email a few days ago, and, since she’s on a schedule, we’ve arranged to meet tonight. We were hoping we’d be in the same city at some stage. Bit of good luck really…”
“She?”
“Um…yes.”
Victoria tilted her head, her eyes bright. “An old friend?”
Abby began to wilt under the scrutiny. Her plan to try a little jealously with Victoria seemed a tad off now. “No, a new friend I met…I mean I haven’t known her very…”
“What’s her name?” asked Victoria.
“Her name’s Patsy Corrigan.” Abby put the emphasis on Corrigan.
“Patsy from Perth?”
“Yes, that’s her.”
“You go out with Abby, Vic. I’m quite happy to stay at home and get room service. I’ve plenty to do now I’ve discovered another family line in Melbourne,” said Fiona. “It’s a cousin…”
“You’re quite welcome to come, Vic, but you’ll probably be bored,” Abby intervened hastily, not only to discourage Victoria from coming, but also to nip Fiona’s ramblings about her family tree in the bud. The novelty of the ancestry recitals had long worn off.
“I’d love to come if that’s all right with you…and of course Patsy.”
The last thing she wanted was for the two of them to meet, but Abby’s eyes met Victoria’s and her resolve crumbled. “That’s great. I suppose we should be getting ready. Just casual. Patsy’s backpacking so she won’t be wearing anything dressy.”
In her room, Abby collapsed on her bed, wo
rried. Certainly, Patsy expected her to come alone. Crap!
* * *
“You look smart tonight, Vic. New jeans?” said Abby as she perused the casual attire. Designer was more like it. Abby had on her sightseeing gear: casual khakis, sandals, a loose chambray shirt. She knew from experience that the backpackers’ usual dresscode called for one outfit on and one in the bag, especially if there was a single pack to hump between the two of you.
Victoria threw a winning smile. “I’ve had these old clothes for years.”
When their cab pulled up at the Dans les Landes restaurant, Patsy greeted them on the sidewalk. Abby had texted her to let her know Victoria would be coming as well, which didn’t seem to perturb the nurse. Patsy’s response said she’d bring her sister to make up an even number. The neighbourhood, filled with cafés sporting colourful awnings and cute outdoor tables and chairs, was the real France to Abby. It was May, and despite Paris’s famously fickle weather, the air was fine and warm. Blooming boxes of flowers hung from nearly every building. Abby was entranced. Such a magical place. The crowd was a feisty mix of tourists, bohemian locals, bikers and students.
Patsy gave her a hug, which Abby returned with enthusiasm. It was really good to see her again. They dined at the tapas bar, and ordered carafes of house wine to make it easier for the sisters who were conscious of their budget. Clarissa Corrigan looked a few years younger than her sister, with brown hair tied in a ponytail and a fresh open face dotted with freckles. She seemed in awe of Victoria who, to Abby’s immense relief, was going out of her way to be extra pleasant. Patsy seemed reserved with Vic at first, though soon warmed up as they began talking. The nurse’s sharp wit was equal to Victoria’s, which made scintillating conversation.