by Joanne Hill
The late afternoon rapidly turned to evening, then night, and even as darkness descended, they couldn’t bring themselves to stop searching. They phoned authorities to check if a Jack Russell had been reported missing, drove to his usual walk spots, split up with the dog biscuits to comb the streets. But no one had seen him.
Back in the car, the darkness intensified the impossibility of finding him. Mel turned to Daniel. In the mottled light, his face was a mask of grief. “Would he have tried to go home to Sir Arthur’s house?”
Daniel frowned. “It’s too far. He’d never make it. He wouldn’t know the way.”
But he shoved the car into gear, and with a piercing screech of wheels, they headed away to Sir Arthur’s house.
When they arrived, the mansion was cloaked in darkness, except for the lights of the top floor apartment where the housekeeper and her groundsman husband lived.
Daniel handed Mel his phone. “Press autodial five. It’s the staff residence. Tell them why we’re here.”
She spoke to the housekeeper and by the time the car pulled up to the house, lights flooded the grounds.
They searched, calling and combing the section, torchlight illuminating areas the floodlights failed to find, but there was nothing. Nothing at all to indicate just where Sir Arthur’s beloved companion had gone.
Daniel caught a cab back to the hospital and Mel spent the night in turmoil. Barnaby. Where was he? Was he sleeping under a bush, cold and lonely and tired and lost? Or had kind people found him and taken him in, and would report him in the morning? He had a collar, and on the collar a disc with Sir Arthur’s phone number. And he was micro-chipped. If he was found.
She wrapped her arms around herself at a sudden blast of cold air through the open window. Did Daniel blame her for Barnaby running away? If she hadn’t been late getting ready for the hospital, they’d have left Barnaby safely chomping on his dog biscuits while they’d driven away. Was it her fault this had happened?
In one way, she had to admit it was. But she suspected Daniel blamed himself more. He was the one who had left the door unattended.
Her heart ached to comfort him.
She loved him.
Mel climbed into bed, and punched the pillows before she lay down with a heavy sigh. Even though she was tired, her mind continued to race.
She thought of her father. Ellie had worked for him as his secretary, and she had loved him for years. He’d been married although at first he’d led Ellie to believe he was leaving his wife. But he hadn’t, and years and years went by and even when she fell pregnant with an unplanned baby, it had made no difference. He had been stringing her along, playing on her love for him, and now she was left to raise a child on her own.
Mel swung around to lie on her back, and reached up to touch the pendant. Ellie had sacrificed so much and she had coped with everything life had thrown her, and it had thrown her more than her share and she’d learnt to live with it.
But Mel knew there was one thing her mother could never live with – that Mel had made a sacrifice for her. Ellie Green would never get over the guilt that Mel had married a stranger for money and even more, was getting her heart broken in the process.
Mel finally fell asleep and awoke again around six. She’d left her door partially open, and she could make out noise in Daniel’s suite, and then the sound of running water. Later, there was noise in the kitchen. Then nothing.
She drifted back to sleep and woke with a jolt around eight.
Groggily, she went to the bathroom and in front of the mirror she blinked rapidly to clear her eyes. She stared at herself. Dark shadows lay beneath her eyes, and there were lines on her face that hadn’t been there a week ago.
Dear Lord, they cannot have lost Barnaby. She brushed her teeth furiously, scrubbing hard to atone for his disappearance. While Arthur lay unconscious in a hospital bed, they cannot have been careless enough to lose Barnaby, too.
She showered quickly, anxious not to waste a minute more of precious time. She would look for Barnaby and she would find him if it took all day. He’d be scared, lost, starving. She’d have posters made. Call radio stations.
She dressed, went down to the kitchen and on the counter saw a note. Slowly, she picked it up.
He’d scribbled along the top 6.20am.
She drew in a long, shaky breath, and blinked back a sudden rush of tears at the words of the short crisp message. Sir Arthur had passed away.
Mel called the office to find Daniel was not taking calls. A flustered Nora told her Mr Christie would not be available for the remainder of the week, but she should try Human Resources if she wanted a job, and honestly, to ring the CEO was extremely inappropriate. Mel dialled his mobile and heard it go straight to voice mail. When the beep sounded, she hesitated. It was wrong to leave a message at a moment like this, it was so impersonal.
“I saw the note about Sir Arthur,” she began, and mentally kicked herself. This was as bad as when Max texted her to tell her it was over. “If there’s anything I can do to help… I mean, I’m sorry…” She grimaced at the feeble platitude. “Let me know,” she went on. “I’m not sure if I should come in to the office, I mean I can’t, can I. No one knows we’re married. ” She massaged her forehead. She needed to get out of this painlessly now. “I’m going out to look for Barnaby some more.” She stopped. Winced. “Bye,” she said, and disconnected the call.
Mel grabbed her bag and phone, and got to work searching for Barnaby. She rang animal shelters, pet stores and vets, but no one had found a Jack Russell Terrier. She showed people photos of Barnaby on her phone but he looked just like any other terrier.
In the early afternoon, she drove back to the apartment, and sat outside on the balcony with the views towards the ocean, and eat a sandwich. The complex was eerily silent. Daniel’s neighbours were all professionals; many of them worked overseas and only used the apartment as a base for trips home.
The silence was deafening, loneliness crowded in around her and dejection sat like lead in her stomach. Barnaby was lost and Sir Arthur, a man she had grown to love as if he were her own grandfather, had gone. And it was over between her and Daniel. She didn’t need to be here anymore.
She closed her eyes against a sudden dazzling glare of sun. As crazy as it had been, the plan had worked. Sir Arthur had died a happy man. He believed Mel would produce heirs and had told her he’d be thrilled if their first boy was named William, after his father. William Arthur Daniel, she’d promised, and he’d smiled, such a smile it brought tears to her eyes. Now Daniel would focus on his brothers, and try and get them back in the country, and try and get them the help they needed. And no one beyond a small handful of people would ever know that Melinda Green had, for a few months, been the wife of one of Sydney’s most eligible bachelors.
Another thought struck her and settled over her like a chill the heat couldn’t get through. There were arrangements to be made for Sir Arthur’s funeral, and the last thing Daniel would need was a soon-to-be-ex-wife dragging him down.
Maybe he wanted her out right now.
She took her plate to the kitchen, stood there a moment, and debated what to do. They hadn’t discussed this aspect of it; it had been too painful. She really needed to speak to him but she didn’t want to leave messages or speak on the phone. She needed to see him in person. Did he want her out now? Was he expecting to arrive home, hoping to find every trace of her gone?
She changed into a floral skirt and white top, grabbed her shoulder bag, and caught the train in to town.
At Circular Quay, she headed up the elevators to road level and wasted no time walking to the Christie Building. At the front doors, she was nearly bowled over by an unrepentant courier rushing past with flowers. Several others hurried out of the building and inside, the foyer buzzed with activity. Extra security had been placed at the door, and floral tributes overflowed the reception desk, with more on the floor to one side. It already smelt like a florist. She noticed reporters standing by wi
th notebooks, their eyes hungrily watching everyone coming and leaving. They glanced at her dismissively before searching out people more famous, more interesting.
There were extra staff on reception, she observed, and nerves hit her as she approached the counter.
She was dismissed almost instantly.
“I’m sorry, but you don’t have an appointment. You need to call HR yourself. There has been a tragedy in the company and everyone is flat out.” The receptionist practically threw her a business card for Human Resources and flustered, answered a call through her headset.
Mel moved away to the side as another bouquet of flowers arrived. A TV crew had assembled on the footpath with a well-known business reporter clutching a microphone.
She clenched her fists in frustration. Why was it so impossible to get hold of Daniel? She tried the cell, but it still went to voice mail. She rang his DDI but a very irate Nora promptly transferred her back to reception again. Mel's frustration grew. She was married to the CEO but she was nothing. She shook her head at the irony and tried Hugh. No response.
She glanced over at the reception desk. One of the women gave her a suspicious look then took a bouquet from another delivery man.
To her right, the lift opened and a staff member hurried out.
Mel stared, her mind ticking over, and then quickly checked her wallet. Buried beneath the department store loyalty cards and buy-ten-get-one-free coffee cards, was her swipe card. She’d used it to get to the top floor the week she had worked here. Only a handful of people possessed one. Although it might, she thought warily, have been de-activated.
And there’s only one way to find out. The receptionists were overwhelmed with inquiries, so she walked quickly to the lift, stepped inside the open car, held her breath as she pressed the button for the top floor, and swiped her card across the panel.
The red light changed to green, the doors closed, and the lift ascended on a whoosh.
At the top floor, she stepped out on to the plush carpet. Had it really only been a few months ago that she’d come here, filled with optimism, thinking she was here for a temporary job, hoping it might lead to something permanent?
She rapped her knuckles on the door and pushed it open.
Nora sat at the computer, typing flat out. Her eyes widened in shock. “Mel, you don’t work here anymore, I’ve told you, you can’t-”
Mel pushed open the door to Daniel’s office and stepped inside.
He sat behind the desk, the phone to his ear, but his eyes zeroed in on her straight away. Thank goodness he was there.
“Mr Christie, I couldn’t stop her, she just barged in,” Nora accused.
Daniel waved her away. “It’s okay Nora, I’ll talk to Mel. Please close the door behind you.”
Nora hesitated, then shut the door swiftly behind her. The nerves in Mel’s stomach compounded and Daniel terminated the call.
“I got your message,” he said without looking at her.
“I’m sorry it was so lame.” She raised her shoulders helplessly. “I didn’t know what else to say.”
Finally he turned to look at her. His expression was oddly remote, as if he had cut himself off from his emotions to focus on all the work that needed to be done here. “Did you find Barnaby?”
“No.” The sadness had settled permanently in her stomach. “I spent hours this morning but no one’s seen him.”
“Then you're not here about Barnaby.”
She’d made a big mistake coming here now. The thought hit her but it was too late. She should have waited, should have at least stayed away until after the funeral. She was the least of his concerns at this time. She cleared her throat. "Actually…" She managed an apologetic smile. “It was a mistake coming here right now and I’m sorry. I don’t know what I was thinking. I couldn’t get hold of you and I wanted to make sure you were okay.” That was true.
“I know what you’re thinking, Mel.” The silver in his eyes had suddenly deepened. “You wondered where the cheque was.”
Dismayed, she took a step backwards. "No. Of course, I didn't. I’ve been trying to get hold of you but your phone goes to voice mail and no one at your company would put me through."
With barely a move, he reached into the drawer of his desk and pulled out an envelope. He slid it across the polished wooden top. “It’s a bank cheque. It will be cleared instantly. I’d appreciate it if you looked at it before you leave.”
“Daniel, I’m not here for this. It doesn’t matter right now.” Suddenly it all seemed so cheap, so inappropriate. The taut lines of his face made it even more so. So sordid. This had been a monumental mistake.
“I’ll go,” she told him. “I’m sorry for coming in.”
“Take the cheque, Mel.” His command was laced with grief, anger, and other emotions she couldn't name.
Unease pooled in her stomach, but she reached for the cheque.
When she had it in her hand, he told her, “Open it.”
She pulled out the cheque, and stared. It was far more than the agreement stated. Thousands more. “There must be a mistake,” she told him.
Daniel finally rose to his feet. “There is no mistake. My grandfather died happy in the knowledge there would be more Christies to keep the family business and line intact. That’s what I wanted, and that’s what I got.”
“Even though it was a lie.” The cheque was burning an imprint into her hand. She drew a deep breath and decided to broach the subject, the one further issue they would need to discuss. Her chest felt heavy and ached; she pressed on. “We need to talk about the other matter.”
“What other matter?”
No. She shook her head, and tucked the cheque between the pages of her diary in her bag. “It's nothing. My timing is absurd, I’m sorry. I really shouldn’t have come in.” She slung her bag over her shoulder. “You’ve got so much on your mind.”
“No.” He folded his arms over his chest. “Go ahead and tell me. You’ve come in. Kill two birds with one stone.”
She hesitated before saying, "Okay." She drew a deep breath. “It’s the matter of the annulment of the marriage.”
His gaze flickered before he strode to look out the window. After a moment he said, “There’s a problem with the annulment.”
“Sorry?”
“I said there is a problem with the annulment.”
“What does that mean?”
“There’s a problem with the nullification of this marriage. It turns out, it can’t be nullified.”
She frowned. “That’s impossible. We never… We didn’t…” Her face flushed as Daniel turned around. The blush had spread up her neck. “The marriage has remained unconsummated. What could the problem be?”
“I used the wrong word. I shouldn’t have said problem.” His eyes darkened. “Because there is no problem. There just can’t be an annulment. We do not qualify under the law.”
"What..." Her voice caught in her throat. “What do you mean, we don’t qualify?” She was struggling to think straight. “Hugh specifically said we qualified. Are you telling me…” The only possible explanation was that they had made love. “Are you telling me we had sex and I can’t remember?”
He looked straight at her, his eyes burning as if he wished right there and then they could do just that. Heat rushed through her body.
“Your memory is fine.”
“So what is it then?”
“What Hugh told us when this was first arranged was not entirely correct.”
Confusion had clearly dulled her brain. What wasn’t she understanding? "The whole point of the annulment," she told him deliberately, “was that no one would know. That is why I agreed to it. So that my mother would never know what I’d done. It would be wiped from the books.”
There was a pause. “Grounds for annulment,” Daniel began in a low voice, “are if one or both partners were already married at the time, were married underage and without consent, or were forced into marriage.” He shrugged. “That’s the la
w and you were none of those.”
“What am I not getting?” Her mind spun and her legs began to lose strength. She gripped the table, her fingers trembling. “When did you find this out? Did the law change, did Hugh get it wrong?”
His face was impassive but there was a look in his eyes, something very much like guilt, that made her catch her breath. Dread nipped at her heels. “No.” She swallowed hard on a dry-as-toast throat. “You knew this? You knew it all along?”
His hesitation said more than words.
“How could you?” Inside, her heart felt like stone. A dead weight. She had fallen for him, had trusted him. Had believed him.
“I didn’t know straight away. We were both misled. Hugh did so deliberately but then he told me the truth.”
“Before we were married?” You could have told me.
“Not before the marriage. I found out on our way back from the wedding during the flight.”
She thought back. Of course. At one point there’d been a heated discussion between Daniel and Hugh. Daniel’s face had been black as tar and Hugh had tried to appease him. She’d wondered what had happened.
“But…” She thought fast. “Something could have been done.” Her voice was low, in spite of the anger coursing through her body. “You could have ripped up the papers. The celebrant was there on the plane, he had all the documents with him. We could have landed back in Sydney and no one would ever have known.”
Impatience flashed in his eyes. “And you could have looked up legislation on the internet and learnt the truth.”
He had to be kidding. She raised her arms helplessly. “Why would I? Why would I even consider that you would lie to me?” Adrenaline pulsed through her body and she had to get out before she exploded. “It goes to show what a fool I am.” Her eyes were blurry and she blinked the tears away. Damn it, she would not cry in front of him. She would not do that. “What a fool I am believing it was all going to end up the way we agreed.”