by Anna Jacobs
The executive secretary knocked on the door then poked her head round it to say, 'Your visitors are here, Mr Blauman.'
'Show them in.' Andy braced himself.
Corrigan strolled in first, looking round with a proprietorial air. 'Nice office.'
Tate made the introductions and the two men shook hands. 'Mr Corrigan is actually the new owner.'
'I know.'
They both stared at him in surprise.
'How?' Corrigan asked.
He avoided the question. 'We've known for a while.'
Corrigan breathed deeply for a moment or two, then looked round. 'Where's my sister?'
'At home.'
Des grinned, the sort of knowing, triumphant smile that made Andy want to punch him in the face. He couldn't remember when he'd taken such a dislike to a person on sight. No, he'd disliked him long before then - because Andy was the one who had found out about the convoluted trickery of this take-over.
'I'd not have thought she was afraid to meet me.'
'Maeve isn't afraid to meet anyone, but she's not well.'
Des smiled. 'Yes, of course.'
Andy didn't say anything because Maeve had strictly forbidden him to mention what was wrong with her. However, half an hour later, when they came back from a quick tour of the works, Corrigan made yet another snide reference to Maeve avoiding him.
'Miss Corrigan is ill,' Andy said curtly. 'I give you my solemn word on that.'
Des stared at him, still with a half-grin on his face. I hope it's something serious.'
Andy closed his eyes for a minute, trying to hide his anger then opened them to see Corrigan looking at him, eyes narrowed. 'That's her business.'
'It is serious!' Des's smile faded. 'Don't bother to deny it, I can see from your face.'
'Can you?'
'You're fond of her, aren't you?'
'Everyone here is fond of Miss Corrigan, who has been an exemplary employer.'
'Well, give her my best wishes for her speedy recovery.' 'Yes. Now, about the handover arrangements . . .' Before they left, Corrigan took Andy aside. 'It'd make things a lot easier if you'd come and work for me. I'm prepared to give you a substantial rise and good fringe benefits.' 'I already have a job, but thank you for the offer.' 'It's still open if you should change your mind.' Andy kept a smile pinned to his face until the door had closed behind them, then sat down in his chair with a low groan of relief. As if he'd ever work for a man like that! Well, only a few more days and he'd be through here. He'd expected to be sorry to leave, but helping Maeve was so much more important that he wished he could walk out this minute. On that thought he got up and went back to checking the master files, keeping some, discarding others, which was a job only he or Maeve could do.
If she was well enough, though, he hoped to bring her here for the farewell party on Friday. Everyone wanted to see her, say goodbye, thank her.
She wasn't the only one who was leaving. Several staff members had taken the offer of early retirement she'd made to them. Corrigan would find some important gaps in the ranks of management and technical skills.
Back at the hotel, Des paced up and down, frowning, not speaking to Tate, who sat quietly studying some figures. 'Has there been any word about my sister being ill?'
'No.'
'Find out about it. Even if you have to hire a whole squad of detectives, I want to know exactly what's wrong with her.'
'Very well.'
The phone rang. Tate picked it up. 'Someone for you, waiting in the lobby. Says his name's Smith.'
'I'll go down to him.' Des shrugged himself into his jacket and left without another word.
In the lobby he went across to the man he'd hired and took him into the coffee lounge. 'Well? Did my dear wife appreciate her present?'
'She intercepted it and had it dumped at the rear of the garden instead, so presumably she had some use for it.'
'I thought I told you I wanted it dumped on the rear patio, as close as possible to the kitchen window.'
'There was a motorbike blocking the way. The delivery man couldn't get round there.'
Des stiffened. 'A motorbike?'
'Yes. A Harley-Davidson. I got a photograph of it. The owner of it was in the house with her. He came to join her at the door. I got a photograph of them both standing there. It was rather early for visitors and he had bare feet and rumpled hair, so my guess is he'd been there all night. And then I took this one.' He passed across the photo of them kissing.
His employer's face turned deep puce. 'Any idea who he is?'
'No. But I have the number of the motorbike, so I'll find out.'
'Do that.' Des held out his hand for the print-outs of the rest of the photos, nodded dismissal and stayed where he was. He ordered a cappuccino and studied the photos again, he pulled out the one showing the kiss. The fellow definitely had bare feet. Dammit, she had been having an affair, for all her fine words! She hadn't had time to meet anyone since she left him - unless it was someone she'd met at the hotel?
Either way, he'd soon find out what was going on.
Kate stared out of the window as a sleek new car pulled into the drive then scowled as Joe got out. What was he doing in Callabine? He lived in Melbourne now, too far away to just pop in and see her. He looked too well for her peace of mind, with those dark good looks and an air of physical fitness and energy. She'd looked like that once, been full of beans from morning to night. She and Joe had been good together, both in bed and as companions - and it still hurt that he'd abandoned her like that.
She went to open the door and stand barring the way in with her arms folded across her body. 'What are you doing here?'
'I had business in the district so I thought I'd stay on a bit longer and call in to see you.'
'Then you've wasted your time. I don't want to see you.'
When she turned to close the door, he stuck out one hand to hold it open. 'Can't we at least be friends, Kate?'
'I don't feel very friendly towards someone who left me when the going got tough.'
He gave her one of his level glances. 'The new job meant a lot to me. I couldn't have done anything to help you and you weren't getting any better. You're looking a bit better now, though you're still pale.'
She shrugged. She was still a long way from her old self. She saw that every time she looked in the mirror, felt it every time that bone-melting tiredness swept through her. 'You made your choice then and I'm making mine now. Go and call on someone else, Joe. I'm busy.'
He didn't budge. 'Why won't you ever speak to me on the phone? I really wanted to keep in touch.'
'Kate Corrigan, you're never turning an old friend away.' Her mother pulled her out of the way and held the door wide. 'Come in, Joe. Have you driven far? Would you like a cup of tea?'
As Kate turned towards her bedroom, her mother grabbed the back of her tee shirt, hissing, 'This is your friend.' Within minutes she had the two of them sitting on the back veranda with a tray of tea and scones.
Kate didn't attempt to argue. Her mother had set views about hospitality - and this was her mother's house. Her parents kept reminding her of that, not so much in words as by their insistence on her doing things their way, as if she were still a child. And in one sense she was, because she couldn't afford to move out on her own, so was dependent on them for the roof over her head.
Joe concentrated on stirring sugar into his tea. 'Tell me how things are going. Really.'
'How do you think? I'm still not well enough to work. If I didn't have my computer and the Internet, I'd go mad. Maybe I've gone mad anyway. My father certainly thinks so.'
'Why?'
'Never mind. Tell me about your new job.'
When she realized they'd been sitting chatting for over an hour, she gave him a wry smile. 'We always could talk, couldn't we?'
He nodded. 'You're looking tired now, though.'
'It's been rather a fraught few days.'
'Still don't want to tell me why?'
She
shook her head.
He stood up. 'I'm staying overnight in Berrabin. Want to come out for a drive tomorrow?'
She hesitated, very tempted to accept, but annoyed with herself for that. Had she really forgiven him that easily? But the thought of getting away from her parents for a few hours tipped the balance. 'It'd make a nice change to get out of Callabine.'
'Is your car being repaired? It's not outside.'
She shrugged. 'I sold it. Couldn't stay awake to drive very far at first and Mum lets me borrow her car when she isn't using it.' Her father had offered to pay for running her car, but she'd refused out of sheer pride. They'd done enough for her. Besides, she'd got a good price for it and would use the money later to buy a less expensive one, when there was a reason for it. Living here meant she could actually save money from the sickness benefits, which was important to her now.
Joe's glance was sympathetic but thank goodness he didn't comment on her lack of a car. She stood in the doorway waving to him but couldn't face her mother's smug smile, so went to her room and switched on her computer.
Over the evening meal she refused to discuss Joe's visit with them and didn't mention the outing planned for the following day. You had to guard any shred of privacy fiercely in the Corrigan household - even when you were twenty-eight years old.
By seven thirty that evening she was exhausted, as usual, so went to bed with a book. Thank heaven for libraries!
Around ten she woke with the light still on and her book lying on the pillow beside her, its pages bent. She felt desperately thirsty but as she reached the kitchen door, she heard her parents chatting quietly and hesitated. She didn't want another lecture. Or an interrogation about Joe.
Then she heard her father say triumphantly, 'Joe came, didn't he? All it took was one phone call. And if I have to pay to keep him coming, I'll even do that. I'm not having my daughter taking Maeve's leavings, if I can prevent it.'
Sick at heart, Kate turned round and crept back to her room, switching off the light and huddling beneath the sheet. Joe wouldn't have come but for her father's prompting. The humiliation of that left her beyond tears and she lay staring up at the ceiling for a long time. She had worried about alienating her family by accepting Maeve's invitation, but if anything had been needed to help her keep to her decision, this was it.
At six o'clock the following morning she rang up the motel where Joe would be staying, because it was the only one in Berrabin. She was savagely glad she'd woken him up. 'I don't know what my father said or did to get you down here, Joe Carvalli, but you can bloody well go away again. I definitely won't be in if you call.'
'Kate, please—'
She slammed the phone down. When it rang she let her mother answer it.
Her mother came into the bedroom without knocking.
'I accidentally overheard you and Dad talking last night,' Kate threw at her. 'It's humiliating to have you asking someone to come and see me. How did you do it? Play on his guilt and pity? Pay his travel expenses?'
Jean sighed and leaned against the door frame. 'I told your father it wouldn't work. I'm sorry, love.'
'But you still let Dad do it, didn't you? He talks about his sister manipulating people, but he's tarred with the same brush.'
'Kate!'
'Go away and leave me in peace. There's nothing you can say or do now to change my mind. I'm definitely going to England.'
She stayed in bed until her father had left for work, didn't get her breakfast until her mother had gone to the regular weekly meeting of the Country Women's Association. Well, she was never hungry these days.
She hoped this Felton man would ring soon and get her out of here.
The next day at school Lily gave her friend Rosemary a message to email to her father, then asked to see the counsellor, telling her teacher it was an emergency and sobbing that she couldn't bear things any longer. It wasn't hard to cry on demand, she found, because she felt upset all the time at the moment, but even as she wept she was watching herself and trying to do this properly. She'd watched herself like that for as long as she could remember. She studied other people too, trying to work out why they did things.
The counsellor sat Lily down, provided tissues and talked gently to her as she told Mrs Gipson exactly what had happened the previous day.
'But Lily, if your mother has custody of you, I can't see how you'll be able to avoid going with them. Where would you live if you didn't?'
'With my Dad.'
'I'm not sure that would be approved if he's not your real father.'
'He is. He's the one who brought me up, has always been there for me. Don't I have any choice about my life?'
'Well, the courts will ask for your opinion, since you're over twelve, but still . . .'
'So you'll let my mother drug me and take me forcibly out of the country, then dump me in a boarding school"? I thought you were here to help me!' She began sobbing again.
'I think you're exaggerating about them taking you forcibly out of the country, Lily.'
'I'm not. Wayne has his own plane and he's very rich. He said they'd sedate me and carry me on board if necessary, pretend I'm afraid of flying.'
There was a long silence, then Mrs Gipson looked at her severely. 'I hope you're not exaggerating about this, Lily.'
'No. I'm not. That's exactly what he said they'd do, so now I'm afraid of him. And he said they'd be putting me in a boarding school over there, so why take me anyway?'
'I'm sure you've mistaken what they said.'
'Why will you not listen? I'm telling the truth. He said sedate. He said boarding school, too. So it's not even as if I'd be with my mother. I'd be in a strange country, away from everyone I know.'
Mrs Gipson made some notes then looked up. 'I think you'd better go home for the rest of the day, Lily. We'll talk about this again tomorrow.'
'I'd rather stay at school. If I had my choice, I'd never go home again, not to her anyway.' She stood up. 'Thank you for listening to me. And please - don't let them take me to America.'
'I'll talk about the situation to someone. Come back and see me tomorrow before school if you're still upset, otherwise I'll make an appointment to see you in a week's time.'
'Yes, Mrs Gipson. Thank you.' Lily made sure she walked out slowly, shoulders drooping. She was very quiet in all her classes, not answering unless the teacher asked her something directly, instead of volunteering as she usually did. She sat quietly at lunchtime, too, not eating much so that the prefect in charge of her table asked her if she was feeling all right.
Letting the tears well up again, she left the table hurriedly. But it was a while before she could stop crying. She didn't know any more where pretending to be upset ended and real weeping began.
Rosemary said afterwards, 'I've never seen you like this, Lily. You're usually so strong and confident.'
'I've never felt like this before.' She blinked her eyes furiously and opened her locker to take out her books for the next lesson. 'I'm not going to America, though. I'll run away first.'
'They'll only bring you back and force you to go.'
'We'll see about that.'
Lily skipped athletics practice after school and went straight home, getting back over an hour before her mother usually returned. She put her things in her room, set out a biscuit on a plate in the kitchen and ate half of it, filled a glass with orange juice and drank half of it, then began her search. Her mother's computer was now password protected, so she couldn't email her dad. No doubt Wayne had done that. Her mother wasn't very good with technical stuff.
She began going carefully through her mother's drawers in the desk where the business papers were kept, hoping to find a clue about who her real father was. Maybe he would help her - if only to keep her quiet.
Why hadn't he wanted her? Even if he was married, he could have come to see her from time to time. Only - if he had still been hanging around her mother, she wouldn't have her dad, who was better than any stranger could ever be.
'There you are, Lily dear. Did you have a nice day at school?'
She stared at her mother, surprised by the endearment and gentle tone of voice. 'No. I was too upset.'
'We'll have to cheer you up, then. I thought we could go shopping at the weekend for some new clothes. You've been growing again and you'll want something smart for our wedding.'
'No, thank you.'
Her mother swung round. 'What do you mean by that?'
'I mean, I don't want to go shopping. I can wear my blue dress for the wedding. I've only worn it once. And I keep telling you: I'm not going to Texas with Wayne.' She saw her mother's face tighten and added, 'What's more, there's nothing you can take away from me now that I care about, so how are you going to force me to go shopping with you? I'm twelve, not two, so you can't carry me. I have a mind of my own, you know, and I have my own plans- for the future, too.'
'You're still dependent on me, however.'
'I'm not. My dad pays for my keep. I want to go and live with him.'
'I keep telling you he's not your father.'
'And I keep telling you he is and always will be. And what's more, he's a better father than you're a mother, so-'
Her mother slapped her across her face, something she hadn't done for years.
Seeing a face at the kitchen window, Lily jerked away and began to scream, 'Don't hit me! Don't hit me again!' just as there was a tap on the back door.
Kerry swung round to see their neighbour from next door staring through the glass panels on the door as Lily cowered back against the wall. She turned to her daughter. 'You'll regret this. Stop play-acting at once!' She flung the door open, but Mrs Baxter was already backing away.
'I'll - er - come back later, Kerry. When you're not - er - busy.'
After the gate had clanged shut, Lily straightened up, smiled at her mother then walked out of the kitchen and up to her bedroom.
Kerry glared after her. 'You little bitch!' she muttered under her breath. She went to pour herself a glass of white wine and sank down at the kitchen table, sipping it, trying to work out what to do about this. Lily wasn't going to win. She was coming to Texas and that was that.