by Annie Seaton
His eyes widened as she flicked over to the next screen: a detailed drawing of the proposed development.
What the hell?
It wasn’t at Double Bay. The 3D representation was situated at Earlando Bay.
* * *
As Liv clicked over to the slide with the 3D representation of the development, her mouth filled with saliva and silver lights pricked at the edge of her vision. For one awful moment, she thought she was going to vomit right where she was standing. She took a deep breath and clenched her fingers on the lectern, fought the dizziness and swallowed down the nausea. The noise of the crowd increased, and several people jumped to their feet before she could read off the notes that related to the slide on the screen. The council representative who was sitting to the right of where she was standing half got out of his seat and then sat back down in his chair.
As she took another deep breath and swallowed the saliva that was pooling in her mouth, Phillip jumped up and took the remote from the lectern. After he pointed it to the data projector, he walked over and took her arm, and led her back to the seat. For a moment, she thought it was because he’d noticed how unwell she was, but the low words hissed into her ear soon sent any thoughts of sympathy flying.
‘What the fuck do you think you’re playing at?’
As the screen behind her went black, the noise in the room increased in volume. The man who’d asked the question about the rail line walked to the front of the room, one fist clenched, and the other finger pointing at the representative from the regional council.
‘John, why is the model at Earlando Bay? Has the bloody council shafted us again? Double Bay was bad enough but are you aware of the environmental impact of moving it to Earlando? It’s a protected ecological environment, just like Muddy Bay was.’ He turned his attention to Liv. ‘Ms Sheridan, perhaps you’d like to answer that question on behalf of the company. Why Earlando Bay? Has it already been approved by our council?’
Liv went to stand, but Anthony reached over and held her arm tightly as Phillip stood behind the lectern. His voice was calm and he held up both hands in a conciliatory manner.
‘May I have your attention again.’ He stood there quietly until the angry voices subsided and the man sat down in a spare seat in the front row. ‘Thank you. I’d like to apologise on behalf of the company.’ The look he shot at Liv was full of pure venom, but he quickly schooled his face into a regretful expression before he turned back to the audience. ‘Unfortunately, due to an inexperienced public relations member, your time has been wasted here today.’ His voice was slick, but Liv was feeling so ill she didn’t care that she was copping the blame for something that she didn’t understand. She was too sick to even think about what was going on around her. All she wanted to do was for the meeting to be over, so she could—
Honestly, I don’t care. Not one iota. Sack me or whatever, I don’t care. Just let me get out of here.
She had no idea what she was going to do. One thing was for sure, she doubted if she would have a position with Sheridan Corp anymore. When she thought about it, her father’s business ethics left a lot to be desired. It had taken her too long to accept that and realise that her sole reason for staying with the company was to gain his approval. His rude and overbearing attitude on the phone had woken her up to where she stood in the scheme of things. She was being used because she was so eager to please and always had been. Thoughts whirled around in her head as the dizziness increased and she gripped the side of the chair with both hands, forcing down the nausea.
Phillip’s voice was smooth and placating as he addressed the questions thrown at him. Each question about the location of the development, and whether it had council approval, was cleverly sidestepped, and he promised that once the very sensitive negotiations that were underway were ready to be brought to the community, they would have their chance to speak for or against the project.
Disgusted calls filled the room.
‘Waste of time coming here today.’
‘Why did you bother coming all the way from the big smoke if you can’t tell us where the bloody thing’s even going to be?’
‘Give the microphone to Blumer so he can answer our questions.’
Liv glanced across at the council representative. Perspiration was running down his face, and there were large circular damp spots on each side of his grey business shirt. She leaned back in her seat and looked around the room. Her breath caught as she looked to the back row.
Fynn James was sitting there. He wasn’t looking at her but was totally focused on Phillip. After Phillip’s swipe at her, the man in the front fired question after question to the floor. But Phillip had the answers down pat until the final question was put forward.
‘Would you also please explain how the project has reached this stage of development—and I understand that the state government funding for the rail line has been approved this week—without a land use agreement from the traditional owners pertaining to the route of the rail line?’
‘I’m able to tell you today that in the past couple of days, the land use agreement has been signed.’ Phillip’s response was cold and terse.
The man huffed in disgust and seemed at a loss for words suddenly. He sat down after Phillip’s answer. Liv was thankful that this hostile barrage of questions was no longer directed at her. Her head was aching, and her mouth was dry, and the longer the discussion went on, the harder she was finding it to focus on the crowd, or even the discussion. Phillip sat down and the chairman stood and raised his hand.
‘We’re running short of time and we still have another speaker to take the floor.’ He waited as someone approached the front but the chairman was blocking Liv’s view. ‘I’d like to welcome Doctor Fynn James from James Cook University, who will present his discussion of the potential damage to the reef.’
Liv’s breath caught, and she stared at Fynn as he took the one step up onto the podium.
What? Doctor?
The voice that she had become very familiar with over the past two days rang out true and clear as Fynn took the microphone.
‘Good morning. I’d like to say it is a pleasure to be here today, but in all honesty, I can’t because that would go against everything that I believe in.’
Liv glanced at Phillip as he let out what could only be described as a scornful snort, followed by the low mutter of, ‘Just another bloody environmentalist.’
But, environmentalist or greenie or whatever, Fynn held the audience in the palm of his hand as he launched into the reasons that the coal loader could not—and would not—go ahead in the Whitsunday Islands, wherever it was situated; his words made that abundantly clear.
‘The Great Barrier Reef is a World Heritage Area and for the past forty years, the government and various authorities have managed it so that the communities and industries that depend on a healthy reef for recreation and their livelihoods, can be sure that it is sustained and preserved.’ His voice soothed Liv and if she sat quietly without turning her head, the nausea receded. He continued for ten minutes—no notes and no PowerPoint—and his passion and love for the islands, and more than that, his depth of knowledge, showed in every word that he spoke. The crowd sat quietly as he spoke, but there were many nods as he made his points.
‘So to sum up, legal challenges over the past six years have ensured that the approval of this project has met with opposition on every level. What I would like to question today, is what has changed so that we have come to this point, where the Chinese parent company, Zenith, today represented by the Sydney firm, Sheridan Corp’—he inclined his head to Olivia and the two men either side of her—‘have approval for a rail line and the signing off by traditional owners before this project gains final approval? What has happened to the protection of the Great Barrier Reef? When will we be told where Zenith plan to locate this monstrosity? What hidden incentives have been provided to those in the positions that have signed off on the many objections, and dismissed those legal challenge
s? Smoke and mirrors might have worked in the past, but rest assured this community will continue to fight. We will not have this built at Earlando Bay. We will not have this built in the Whitsunday region.’
Fynn stepped down from the podium to a rousing cheer, and headed back to his seat as loud applause continued. The chairman leaned over to Liv.
‘Would you like to respond, Ms Sheridan?’
She shook her head. Her two minders also declined when asked, and as the meeting closed, Phillip rose and stood in front of Liv, blocking her view of the rest of the room.
‘Where the fuck did you get that PowerPoint from? Who gave it to you?’ His voice was like steel and his cold eyes frightened her.
‘Rod sent it to me.’ She could barely speak with the nausea rising in her throat.
Phillip gestured to Anthony with a sharp nod, and they both headed towards the exit. He was on the phone before they reached it. The audience began to move around the room and Liv put her head down as the floor tilted. Small groups gathered, and she looked desperately over towards the rest rooms as nausea rose in her throat. Somehow, she managed to thank the chairman as he unhooked her computer from the data projector and passed it across to her.
‘Excuse me.’ She grabbed her computer, swung her handbag over her shoulder and dashed across the room.
Fifteen long, horrid minutes later, Liv leaned one elbow on the marble sink in the elegant ladies room and used a paper towel to wipe away the eye makeup that had run down her cheeks. Her face was pale and her lips were colourless. All she wanted to do was crawl into her bed, but the thought of getting on a boat and heading back across the Passage to her hotel room brought the nausea back. Scooping her hand beneath the tap, she drank deeply, finally assuaging the intense thirst that had hit her in the meeting room. Thank goodness the awful sickness that had come on her so suddenly was easing. With shaking hands, she smoothed down her skirt, straightened her blouse and checked for any stains, and after a final look at her face, she picked up her handbag, slid her laptop into her briefcase, and pushed open the door.
All was quiet and the meeting room was empty. Putting her head down and focusing on putting one foot after the other, she made for the door.
‘I was giving you another minute, then I was coming in to find you.’
Liv stopped and turned around slowly. Fynn was leaning against the bar.
‘God, Liv, you look like shit. Are you okay?’
All she could do was shake her head. Closing her eyes, she drew in a shaking breath, willing the sickness to stay away. Finally, she managed a shaky, ‘No.’
Stress, fear, seasickness?
She didn’t know what had made her feel so ill, but she certainly didn’t want it to come back. The weight of her briefcase and her handbag lifted from her shoulders, and a firm arm supported her. ‘Come on. Let’s get you out of here.’
‘Has everyone else gone?’ The thought of having to speak to anyone brought the nausea back. Especially the two men in her father’s pocket who had treated her so badly.
‘They have.’
As they stepped out onto the verandah that ran the length of the top floor of the conference centre, the bright midday sun made Liv’s eyes ache. With a soft moan, she put her hand up. ‘Sunglasses.’
‘Where are they?’
‘In my bag. In the purple case.’
Before she could blink, Fynn had slipped her glasses over her eyes.
‘Why are you being so nice to me?’ she asked softly.
‘And why wouldn’t I be?’
Fynn led her along the verandah and down the stairs to the walkway along the marina. His hand was firm beneath her elbow as they walked past a coffee shop, a tour booking agency and down to a covered walkway that connected to the finger wharves. When they were almost to the end of the first wharf, he let go of her arm.
‘Where are we going?’
‘Are you okay to stand and wait here for a moment?’
Liv nodded and he stepped onto a boat.
The concrete wharf rocked slightly beneath her feet and as Liv grabbed for the post, her stomach knotted. A minute later, Fynn appeared on the deck of the boat minus her handbag and her briefcase. He stood on the side of the boat and held out his hand. ‘Just a small step up, and you’ll be right.’
Once on board, he kept hold of her hand and led her down a couple of steps to a saloon area. ‘How are you feeling? Do you want to sit here, or would you be better lying down?’
‘Lie down, please.’
‘Do you need to see a doctor?’
Liv shook her head. ‘No. I just need to sleep this off. Whatever it was.’ For the first time since she’d come out of the restroom, she held Fynn’s gaze and was surprised—and touched—by the concern she saw there. ‘I’m sorry. I don’t want to be a bother. A short sleep will fix me and then I can be on my way.’
He showed her into a cabin two steps down from the saloon and along a short walkway. Leaning down, he pulled a light blanket from a small cupboard at the side of the bed and handed it to her.
‘Thank you,’ Liv said.
The door closed behind Fynn and she sank onto the soft bed. Within seconds, her eyes closed and she was asleep.
* * *
Fynn checked on Liv a couple of times to make sure she was sleeping normally and hadn’t passed out. She was breathing evenly and a touch of colour had come back into her cheeks. He touched her shoulder gently and she stirred each time, satisfying him that she was merely sleeping off whatever had made her ill. He went up to the deck and sat there thinking as the sun moved across the sky.
He felt bad about not having told her what his job was, and he was sure he would pay for that once she woke up and was feeling better, but for the time being, he was happy to let her sleep.
As the meeting had progressed, he’d seen the tension that held her as tight as a bow string, as well as the obvious lack of communication with the two other guys who were supposedly there to support her. When they’d pulled the pin on her presentation and blamed her, disgust had filled him.
He had no doubt that she was merely a mouthpiece for the organisation. As much as he sensed that Liv would like him to believe she was tough, he knew instinctively she wasn’t the sort of person to be involved in the underhand deal that was going down here. He was good at judging people, and even on their short acquaintance, he knew Olivia Sheridan was a decent person. He pulled out his phone and scrolled through the contacts.
As the phone rang, he stared across the water. The marina was sheltered from the stiff south-easterly still blowing, but the wind had dropped off as the afternoon faded.
‘Greg? It’s Fynn.’
‘Gidday, mate. I’ve been waiting for your call. How did it go?’
‘It’s been a very interesting day. Something came out at the meeting that wasn’t supposed to and it’s sparked a big reaction.’
‘What can you give me?’
Fynn moved to the stern of the boat and lowered his voice. Last time he’d checked Liv had been sound asleep, and he’d stood there and looked at her for a few moments. Who would ever have thought that Liv Sheridan would be asleep on his boat tonight? ‘A new location for the coal loader. At Earlando Bay.’
‘What the fuck?’
‘Yeah. That’s sort of what the community said too.’
‘First I’ve heard of that location. I don’t even know where it is. Tell me everything.’
‘It’s the next bay north and a protected ecological area.’ Fynn related the events of the day, and when he finally mentioned that Olivia Sheridan was currently asleep below decks, Greg was silent for a few seconds.
‘I don’t know how, and for the life of me I can’t figure out a reason for it, but she was set up at the meeting to take a very public fall.’ Fynn broke the loaded silence.
‘You be careful, mate. The whole thing could be a set-up. They’re bloody clever. She could be there to see how much we have on them.’
‘She could, but I don
’t think so. I’ve spent a bit of time with her over the weekend, and she was the one set up. I’d put money on it.’
‘But why? What good would that do the project? Jesus, Fynn. Who fucking knows! Andrew Sheridan is such a slimy bastard, you’d never know what he’s up to.’
‘Sounds like it. And the two Sheridan guys at the meeting were about the same quality.’
‘Leave it with me. I’ll do some digging around tonight. Anything else comes up, give me a call.’
Fynn stared out over the marina for a while, thoughts tumbling, before he headed inside and pulled out the notes he’d made at the meeting.
CHAPTER
14
Liv stretched her legs out on the cool sheets and buried her face into the soft pillow. In that delicious moment between sleep and waking, she took a deep breath and inhaled the fresh fragrance of the smooth cotton pillowcase. Soft guitar music lulled her back into a doze and a moment later, she woke fully and reached for the alarm clock beside the bed to stop the music.
What day is it? What have I got on today? She stretched further for the alarm clock before she stopped, hand in midair. She opened her eyes as the music stopped, lying still as the cold fingers of memory brushed across her thoughts. With a quiet groan, she rolled over onto her stomach and buried her face in the pillow again.
Fynn’s pillow.
It was Monday—or Monday night, as the cabin was in semi-darkness—and she had made an absolute fool of herself at the public meeting today. All she could remember was Fynn bringing her back to a boat and putting her to bed. Liv rolled onto her back and sat up gingerly, testing to see if her head was still spinning. Something had made her sick today—she suspected the seasick tablets had disagreed with her—but she hoped whatever it was had gone. Swinging her legs over to the floor, her bare feet touched smooth timber. Her head was steady so far and her stomach seemed fine. She sat there for a moment and listened. Apart from the faint music, the only other noise was the occasional soft splat of a small wave on the side of the hull, sounding in time with the gentle movement of the yacht.