by C. Fonseca
“Hi, nice to meet you, Trevor.” She accepted his hand, shaking it briefly. “Call me Eleanor, please.”
“We miss Mr Heysen around here, Eleanor. I hope he’s back soon.”
“Thank you. Me too,” Eleanor said.
Trevor placed his elbow on the desktop, resting his chin in his hand. “I just received my copy of the latest Global Conscience. It has your excellent article about the Somali villagers working with NGOs towards climate change adaptation.”
She gave Trevor a cautious smile.
“Your photographs just blew me away.” He gave a little shake of his head. “You really captured it, Eleanor.”
Eleanor took a deep breath and swallowed. “Thank you so much.”
Trevor didn’t know the half of it, but he was right about the article; Eleanor and the journalist had worked hard to ensure it was of the highest quality. Her primary goal had been to catch the reality of the villagers’ lives without sensationalising their situation for the sake of attracting aid money. She was proud of her work.
But what had happened next still made her sick to the stomach. She’d returned to London to discover that a tabloid freelancer had covered the same village. When his images appeared on the front page of the paper, the colourfully dressed women and children that Eleanor had grown to respect were depicted in filthy clothes, the children crying, with desperate faces. It was a set-up, unethical, and although she was furious, there was nothing Eleanor could do.
“Eleanor? Are you okay?”
She looked up to find not one but two concerned faces staring at her. She swallowed hard. “Yep,” she said, pulling herself together. “I’m good.” Eleanor glanced from Trevor to the fair-haired woman beside him wearing a dark pant suit, soft blue blouse, and low black heels. Where had she come from?
“Well, that’s good, if you’re sure.” Trevor wiped his hand over his brow. “Eleanor, let me introduce Stella Wright, our mediation adviser, expert in disputes of all varieties and insolvency matters.” He gestured towards the newcomer. “If you ever need a negotiator, Stella is the best.”
“Is that so?” Stella winked at Trevor, a grin tugging her bright red lips. She turned to Eleanor and held out her hand. “Finally, I get to meet the roving photographer. It seems you were AWOL at lunch on the weekend.”
“Well, this is a surprise.” Eleanor took a startled step back and looked into Stella’s steel grey eyes. “Hi, good to meet you.” She put her hand in hers. “Judge Wright’s daughter?”
Stella smirked, shook Eleanor’s hand slowly, and held onto it. “Yes, that’s me. It’s a shame you stood me up. I’m familiar with your work and would love to discuss it with you over a drink sometime.”
It wouldn’t hurt to have a drink with Stella. It wouldn’t hurt to make a new friend in Melbourne, either. Eleanor removed her hand from Stella’s clasp. “I’d like that,” she said tentatively.
The reception phone chimed, and Trevor picked up the handset. “I’m on it, sir, sending her right in.” He put the phone down and picked up a bulging folder, handing it over. “Stella. Mr Fischer is waiting for you in his office. I’ll buzz you through.”
Stella leaned towards Eleanor. “Call me.” She smiled sweetly and slipped a card into Eleanor’s hand before disappearing down the hallway.
Eleanor placed the business card in her top pocket. Stella was attractive, smart, and obviously had a sense of humour, but being set up by her mother didn’t go down well with Eleanor.
Trevor cleared his throat. “Pardon me. Now, where were we?”
She turned back to him. “I’d like to use the library to do some research, please. Is that possible?”
“Sure…I think.” Trevor hesitated. “Do I need to check with anybody? Or do you have the password?”
“I do. It’s not the first time, Trevor,” Eleanor said. “I sometimes use the library when I’m in town.”
“All right, then.” He nodded, handed her a pen, and pushed over the visitor’s sign-in book. “You seem like you know what you’re doing.”
“Thanks, I’ll be fine. Just have a few leads I want to follow.” Eleanor glanced at her watch. “Is Mum in her office?” She really didn’t want to explain the purpose of her visit to her mother.
“No, sorry.” He accepted back his pen. “Mrs Heysen won’t be in ’till later this afternoon.”
“Okay.” A sigh of relief escaped Eleanor’s lips. “Thanks for your help. I really appreciate it.”
“You’re welcome.”
The décor of her great-grandfather’s library hadn’t changed at all since she was a child—probably not since her mother was a child either—with its floor to ceiling mahogany bookcases and olive felt-covered walls that gave it a solid, ageless quality. The shelves were filled with law reports and court judgements as well as rows of leather-bound tomes of precedents and practise guides.
She located her great-grandfather Reginald Miller’s 1913 and 1914 university yearbooks and took them to the corner antique reading desk. Eleanor was convinced that he had attended Melbourne University at the same time as Alexa’s great-grandfather William Brown. Grace had told her that he’d played football for the university team before he went to war, and so had Reginald. Eleanor hoped to find a photograph of the team in a yearbook to establish if Alexa’s William Brown was the same man mentioned in the newspaper clipping. Even if Alexa chose to keep the information to herself and never spoke about it to her grandmother, surely she would want to know.
She leafed through the first book, finding numerous photographs of her own great-grandfather. He’d been a keen sportsman and certainly looked the part, wearing his baggy cricket whites, holding a shiny trophy. Eleanor glanced up at the oil painting portrait hanging on the wall in between the bookshelves. He was a formidable figure.
I recognise that look. That’s where Mum gets it from. She folds her arms over her chest just like that. She and Leo called it her defence and attack pose. She remembered the tremor of fear that pose had incited in her when she was younger.
“Where are your football team photos, Great-Grandpop?” She carefully turned a few more pages before stumbling upon exactly what she was looking for. “Ah-ha, this is it.”
She examined the grainy black and white photo. There was Reggie Miller sitting cross-legged on the grass in the first row, surrounded by the other team members in dark jerseys and long white shorts. Eleanor peered closer, searching the list of players’ names. William Brown, five along in the second row. Bingo.
She scanned the photograph. One, two, three, four, five. There he sat on the wooden bench, muscled arms resting on his thighs and dark wavy hair swept across his forehead in a casual style. Just as she’d suspected, William Brown, the handsome man with a cheeky grin, was clearly Chinese, just like the William Brown in the newspaper clipping. Alexa’s great-grandfather was Chinese. Eleanor lowered her head into her hands. She’d have to tell Alexa.
* * *
The thought of seeing her friend, Eleanor, had Alexa smiling at everyone and everything all Friday. She’d kept her mood bright and upbeat for the past few days while coming to terms with their friendship status. It was a good thing she’d been caught up in meetings most of today, though, because, if she’d been at her desk, she’d have stared out the window or glanced at the clock repeatedly. She’d had two missed calls from Eleanor and hadn’t been able to reach her back. Alexa’s shoulders drooped. What if Eleanor was ringing to change their plans to meet at 4 p.m. in the library’s imaging studio? Alexa would soon find out…she entered the studio’s outer office and closed the door behind her.
“Good afternoon, Alexa,” called Sanjay, the studio supervisor. “Have I missed something?” He glanced at his computer screen. “Are you working with us this afternoon?”
She shook her head and smiled. “No. I’m just here to collect Eleanor.” Alexa sometimes worked in the studio catal
oguing and creating bibliographic records. Not today, though.
“Ah. The lovely Ms Heysen.” He dipped his head. “She should be just about finished. They’ve been preparing the last of the images for Bohemian Melbourne before the exhibition goes up.”
“Great, she’s still here, then.” Alexa exhaled quietly.
“We’ve enjoyed having Eleanor with us.” Sanjay’s face lit up with a shy grin. “We’re chuffed to spend time with such an insightful photographer. At lunch, she let down her guard and entertained us with some of her adventures. I wonder where she’s off to next. I don’t suppose she stays still for long.”
Alexa shrugged. “Shame I couldn’t join you for lunch to hear the stories. Too many meetings.”
Why hadn’t Alexa used the opportunity to coax more out of Eleanor at the cottage? About what she did? About her ambitions, inspirations, and her plans for the future? She mentally kicked herself. She’d been too caught up in their little adventure in the goldfields and too lost in her attraction for Eleanor.
“Go on in,” Sanjay said. “If you’ve got time to stick around, have a cup of tea with us.”
“I’d love to, but Eleanor and I have a meeting with Kit Kat in ten minutes.” She walked towards the swing doors. “I’d better find her.”
“Off you go. Will I catch you at drinks? Jac asked Eleanor to join us, too. Maybe you can tram it together to the bar.”
Halfway through the heavy swing door, Alexa stopped. “Jac asked her, did she?” What was Jac up to? Alexa had told her about the unplanned night at the cottage but not the details. It would be just like Jac to suspect something happened between Alexa and Eleanor. Well, it hadn’t. The force of the door closing pushed her back into Sanjay’s office.
“Careful,” he said, grinning.
“Yes. Nearly landed on your desk,” Alexa exclaimed. “Okay, see you later in Fitzroy.” Now try going through the door again without knocking yourself out.
Alexa observed Eleanor lean over the large format digital camera that hung suspended above the light table and was surprised by a soft tug of longing. Eleanor’s honey brown strands of hair gleamed gold under the studio lights. With her striped shirt, sleeves rolled up above her elbows, and black apron, she could have been mistaken for a nineteenth-century studio photographer. Minus the ubiquitous moustache.
As if she knew she was being watched, Eleanor turned around. Her dark eyes danced with joy.
“Is it that time already?” Eleanor’s lips twitched in a delighted smile that in turn delighted Alexa. “I’ve been trying out the light table with a glass plate negative,” Eleanor said. “Sanjay explained how they are converted into positives, adjusted for exposure, and saved to TIFF files.”
“You’re obviously learning lots and having fun. It’s a shame to take you away, but Katherine is expecting us in her office,” Alexa said.
“That’s okay. I’m good to go.” Eleanor lifted the negative from the light table with gloved hands, slotting it back into its storage box. “They asked me back, if I’m interested. Which I am, of course. How could I not be?”
Alexa answered with a gentle smile and took a step towards the door.
On their way out, Eleanor stopped to say farewell to Sanjay, and she and Alexa walked briskly towards the stairwell.
“It’s a good thing you came to get me. These basement corridors would have me lost in a nanosecond.”
Alexa slowed her pace. “It wouldn’t do to have you roaming the labyrinth of passageways and disappearing in the catacombs for all eternity.”
Eleanor grinned. “I can think of worse places to get lost. But eternity is a long, long time,” she said as they approached the marble staircase.
“Well, even though the State Museum moved out of this building years ago, you might have roamed amongst the ghosts of stuffed kangaroos, lions, and mummies, breathing in the stench of formaldehyde. They were stored right down here.”
Eleanor grabbed her forearm and squeezed. “Okay, did I mention I suffer from mild claustrophobia? It’s definitely time for me to surface. Let’s get out of here. I’ll meet you at the top.” She shot up the stairs as though a shadowy spirit was after her.
Alexa’s phone beeped. She retrieved it from her jacket pocket and read Jac’s message.
Meet me near the Guild Café. I’ll travel with you to Fitzroy.
Before she could reply, there was another message.
Eleanor’s coming to work drinks, too! I’m guessing you know that by now.
Trust Jac to convince Eleanor to join the gang at the bar, but then Jac could persuade a mouse out of a block of cheddar cheese. Excitement swirled through Alexa at the thought of a night out with Eleanor. Putting the phone back into her pocket, Alexa glanced up the stairwell; Eleanor was nowhere in sight.
Alexa ran up the steps two at a time, narrowly avoiding Eleanor at the stairwell doorway. “Here you are. I didn’t think you’d get too far.”
Eleanor lowered her head. “I just realised I don’t know where Katherine’s office is.”
Alexa bumped Eleanor’s shoulder lightly as she passed her. “Follow me.”
Chapter 15
Heads and tails
They brushed past a thick curtain of potted palms and shrubs and entered the back bar through a half-hidden iron gate. Alexa wasn’t in the least surprised when Jac charged in ahead, searching for their colleagues amongst the Friday after-work crowd who were scattered in groups around tables in the undercover beer garden. As usual, the place hummed with multiple conversations and laughter, competing with clinking glasses and the whir of a blender or two.
Eleanor came to a sudden stop in front of Alexa. Alexa put on the brakes, extended her arms, and rested her hands upon Eleanor’s hips. Had Eleanor changed her mind about joining them, after all?
“Sorry. Are you all right?” Alexa asked as Eleanor turned to look at her.
Eleanor just nodded.
“I haven’t had the chance to ask you why you rang me earlier.” Alexa had chosen not to bring it up during their tram ride with Jac.
“It can wait.” Eleanor slipped her hands into her pockets, her gaze darting from left to right. She seemed strangely tense, even nervous.
Hoping to put her at ease, Alexa lay a comforting hand on Eleanor’s forearm. “I am happy you came along tonight.” She nudged her forward, giving her an encouraging smile. “Come on. Let’s check out the cocktail menu.”
Eleanor blinked rapidly. “This is a groovy place. Kind of busy, though.”
“You don’t like crowds?” Alexa leaned in and, for a split second, had an urge to kiss Eleanor’s sulky lips, but instead whispered in her ear, “They’re a friendly mob, and you’ve met quite a few of them already.” She looked over Eleanor’s shoulder. “And there’s Jac, waving her arms frantically at me, probably wondering why we are huddled in the shadows.”
Eleanor smiled, and her face relaxed a bit. “Jac said this bar is famous for its boozy cocktails.”
Alexa was close enough to Eleanor that, when she let out a slow breath, a shudder vibrated through Eleanor’s body, and Alexa’s entire being hummed in pleasure at her reaction. “Why don’t we go get one of those famous cocktails and join the others?”
“Yes, I could use a drink.”
“Good. We’ll head to the bar, and you can choose something from the drinks menu.”
Eleanor pursed her lips. “Hmmm…I’d rather you surprise me.”
“No special flavours you prefer?” Alexa lowered her head and whispered, “Tastes you don’t like?”
“Nothing too sweet, nothing too sour.” Eleanor lifted her shoulder.
“You’re trusting.” Alexa gave Eleanor a gentle push. Something fun that will help her chill. “Okay, leave it to me. I have just the thing in mind,” Alexa said with a cheeky grin. Raspberry Blossom Blush.
A little after six t
hirty, most of their group had scattered, and the downstairs garden bar was overflowing with standing customers. The live music volume had increased along with the conversation level. Alexa leaned forward. “Are you into this uptown jazz?” It was a shame the music downstairs tonight wasn’t more melodious.
Laughing, Eleanor placed her hands over her ears. Obviously not. She had been quick to agree when Jac had suggested they move upstairs to a quieter space. The three of them had made a bee line for the vacant couch and chair near the old stone hearth with a cosy log burner and ordered a couple of Mediterranean sharing plates.
“This is sure to make you happy,” Jac exclaimed, handing back Alexa’s refilled cocktail glass. “What’s in it?” She rested her head against the back of the couch and closed her eyes.
Alexa took a sip, licked her lips, tasting the flavours of the drink. “Absinthe, bitters, fresh lime, and muddled raspberries. Strained and poured on an ice cube of Blue Sapphire gin.”
“Muddled raspberries? What will they think of next?” Eleanor shook her head and lifted her water glass.
Reclining in the armchair, she crossed her legs at the ankles, gazing at Alexa for what seemed like a long time, her eyebrows lifting fractionally, almost curiously.
Alexa’s heart sped up under Eleanor’s intense stare. Taking the last sip of her drink, she placed the glass on the table. She pulled at her shirt collar and loosened her tie, inclining her head towards Eleanor. “How are you doing?”
“I’m fine,” Eleanor replied slowly, gazing unashamedly at Alexa.
Eleanor was giving her some seriously interested vibes; that was more than just a friendly look. It was getting hot, especially under Eleanor’s visual caress. Or maybe it was just the alcohol Alexa had consumed? No, it was definitely the look on Eleanor’s face that had her temperature rising.
“Hey, Eleanor. How did you enjoy being a minion, today?” Jac asked.