by Judy Nunn
'If the corporation goes into bankruptcy, we'll still be in front,' he said scathingly. 'We'll bloody well start again from scratch if we have to.' God, he wished Pembo would develop some balls.
Spud spared no thought whatsoever for the small-time investors who might face the loss of their life's savings. Why should he? When he'd gone public, everyone had grabbed at the chance to get rich quick. They'd all wanted a piece of the action and he'd given it to them. There were leaders and there were followers, and in Spud's opinion, if the followers couldn't stand the heat, they shouldn't have opened the kitchen door. But he had every intention of fighting to the bitter end. Spud wasn't about to admit defeat yet.
Nor, apparently, was Laurie Connell. True to his word, Laurie wasn't taking things lying down, he was fighting back tooth and nail. Having put together a rescue package involving numerous Australian businessmen, Connell appealed directly to his good mate, the WA Premier, Brian Burke.
'My God, I don't believe it!' Spud said when he heard the news. 'I don't bloody well believe it!'
Brian Burke had promised a 150-million-dollar government guarantee to provide short-term relief to Rothwells Merchant Bank. The madness of WA Inc had attained new heights of lunacy. Even in Spud's eyes.
'Brian could be brought to task for this, Pembo,' he said. 'It could be the end.'
But Burke wasn't brought to task. Not yet. Early the following year, Brian Burke was posted as ambassador to Ireland and the Holy See by his friends in Bob Hawke's federal Labor government, and Peter Dowding became the new Labor Premier of Western Australia.
It wasn't the end. But it was the beginning of the end.
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
Andrew Gaden strolled into the main bar and lounge of the Parmelia Hotel at a quarter to seven. He'd arrived that very day. Having stepped off the plane into the crisp, dry heat typical of a Perth afternoon in late November, he'd headed straight for the hotel and, as he'd checked in at the front desk, he'd noticed the sign in the lobby. The Parmelia Hilton welcomes delegates to the 1990 McAllister Research Institute's Environmental Convention.
The famous Mike McAllister, he'd thought, Johanna's husband. He'd made enquiries of the receptionist and had learned that this was the final day of the convention and that a formal dinner was to be held that night in the main function room on the first floor. The dinner was to start at seven thirty, the receptionist said, but the delegates were bound to gather for a drink in the lounge – they usually did before a convention dinner, particularly those from interstate and overseas who were staying at the hotel.
Andrew ordered a beer from the waiter and found a seat in the corner. Most of the men in the lounge were wearing dinner suits, presumably they were delegates, and a number of women were present. Was it likely Jo would accompany her husband tonight, he wondered, and if so, would they have a drink beforehand or would they head straight upstairs to the function centre? Perhaps he should have hung around in the hotel lobby. But that would have been far too obvious.
His eyes searched the crowded room but there was no sign of her. He sipped his beer and watched the main entrance to the lounge, willing her to appear. He wouldn't say anything to her, he'd decided, he didn't wish to intrude, but for some strange reason he longed to see her again. It had been twenty years. She would surely have changed, he thought. Perhaps he wouldn't even recognise her.
He finished his beer and glanced down at his watch. Seven fifteen. When he looked up, she was suddenly there, standing at the main doors, and of course he recognised her. How could he fail? Jo had always stood out in a crowd.
She wore a dove-grey cocktail dress with a silvery sheen – she favoured pastel colours, he remembered – and her mid-length fair hair was drawn back from her face. Unconsciously elegant, she was as striking as ever.
He recognised the husband too: he'd seen Mike McAllister's face on many a television report and in many a newspaper. But the raven-haired young woman by their side – was that really Allie? Of course it was, he thought. The little girl he'd known had always borne the promise of true beauty.
Andrew rose from his chair, his decision not to intrude forgotten. He simply had to speak to her. He didn't interrupt though; he waited to one side until Jo and Mike had finished their brief chat with the group by the door. As the couple turned to mingle with others of the delegates, Andrew stepped forward.
'Hi Jo,' he said with a grin. Then it occurred to him that perhaps she might not recognise him, and he was about to introduce himself, just in case.
'Andy! Andy Gaden!' She didn't offer her hand or kiss his cheek, but embraced him warmly instead. 'Good heavens, you haven't changed at all.'
He hadn't, Jo thought, it was the dimples that did it. His smile took her back twenty years.
'Bit greyer,' he laughed, 'bit more weathered.' Close to, he loved the way the porcelain skin around her eyes crinkled as she smiled.
'Oh, aren't we all,' Jo said. 'Andy, this is my husband, Mike McAllister. Mike, Andy Gaden.'
'The Andy Gaden I take it.' Mike's grin was friendly as he offered his hand; there was no mistaking his knowledge of their shared past.
Andy shook Mike's hand and glanced at Jo, a little taken aback.
'No need to be self-conscious, Andy,' she laughed, sharing a fond look with her husband. 'Face it, I've never been a woman of mystery.'
Really, Andy wondered. He'd always found Jo a woman of great mystery himself.
'You remember Allie, of course?' she said.
'How could I forget?' Andy offered his hand. 'You wouldn't remember me, Allie, I belong to the era of Donald Duck wallpaper.'
'Yes, I do remember,' Allie said as they shook.
'Really?' he asked, astounded.
'Well, no, I don't remember you. Sorry,' she said. Should she, she wondered. 'But I do remember Donald Duck wall-paper.' Allie had had sudden visions of Donald Ducks looming everywhere as she kissed them. Where had that come from? How amazing.
'What are you doing in Perth, Andy?' Jo asked. Open as she'd been with her husband, there was no need to share with her daughter the fact that this was the man she'd once intended to marry.
'Oh, federal government business, nothing exciting.' He shrugged awkwardly. Mike was looking around, probably wanting to mingle. 'I'm staying at the hotel, just wanted to say hello. Sorry, Mike,' he said, 'didn't mean to intrude. I'm sure you want to have a drink with your colleagues. Good to see you again, Jo.' And he started to back away.
Mike was aware that his unintentional distraction had embarrassed the man. 'You're not intruding at all, Andy. We hadn't planned on having a drink with the gang, we were just going to say a few brief hellos before getting locked in at the dinner table.' He looked at his watch. 'But I'm afraid we do have to head upstairs now.'
'Goodbye, Andy,' Jo said. 'It's been lovely to see you again.' She kissed him lightly on the cheek. 'It really has.'
'How long are you in Perth?' Mike queried.
'Just for the week, but I'll be popping over regularly – it's an ongoing contract.'
'Well, why don't you two catch up tomorrow? Or the day after? Jo's got time on her hands these days.'
Once again Andy was taken aback, but he jumped at the opportunity.
'Sounds like a good idea to me,' he said. 'How about it, Jo? Lunch tomorrow?'
'Lovely. I'll meet you here in the lobby. Say around one?'
'I'll look forward to it.'
As they walked upstairs, Jo whispered to Mike, out of Allie's hearing, 'Why on earth did you do that?'
'Why shouldn't I? It was perfectly obvious that the two of you enjoyed seeing each other.' Mike, too, lowered his voice to a whisper. 'But you'd better watch out, the man's still in love with you.'
'Don't be ridiculous.'
'I'm serious.'
'If you're serious, you'd hardly suggest we meet,' she said with a wry smile.
'Why not? Why should I feel threatened – you chose me, not him.' Mike grinned as he took her hand. 'I obviously got thin
gs right somewhere along the line.'
Jo laughed.
'Is someone going to share the joke?' Allie demanded. She'd felt decidedly left out during their whispered exchange.
'Andy's your mother's exlover. She was going to marry him at one time.'
The remark rendered both Jo and Allie speechless, but there was no time for further conversation anyway. They'd arrived at the top of the stairs where, outside the function room, guests were mingling and waiters were proffering trays of champagne.
'Bit unusual, isn't it? The husband suggesting the wife have lunch with her ex.' Andy's opening remark echoed Jo's initial reaction. They were dining at the Parmelia's main restaurant, he'd booked a table for one o'clock. 'Mike's obviously not the possessive type.'
'No, he certainly isn't,' she agreed with a smile. 'Particularly given the fact that he's convinced you're still in love with me.'
'Is he really? My goodness, how extraordinarily perceptive.'
'Oh, stop being silly, Andy, it's been twenty years.' He still had that air of theatricality about him which she'd always found amusing.
'I'm not being silly. I'm fully aware it's been twenty years, and at the risk of sounding frightfully Noel Coward, I've loved you for every single one of them. That's a touch of Elyot from Private Lives, by the way, just in case you hadn't recognised it.'
His manner may have been theatrical, and his intention to amuse, but Jo realised with a start that he meant what he said.
'Dear me,' she replied. She wasn't sure which surprised her most: his declaration or Mike's perception. 'Then perhaps it's not really wise for us to have lunch.'
'Oh, Jo,' he laughed. 'You're so complex and so simple at the same time – it's your greatest charm, always was. Don't worry, I'm not about to make overtures. I know a happily married woman when I see one. Besides,' he added, with more than a touch of flippancy, 'I'd never allow you to break my heart a second time.'
The waiter arrived with the menu and wine list.
'Well, I think I've done Coward to death, haven't I,' he said. 'Shall we order?'
'Yes, let's.'
'Is it still port and lemonade or have you developed a palate?'
'I've been known to take a glass of white wine now and then,' she smiled. She'd forgotten how much she enjoyed his company.
Andy ordered a Margaret River sauvignon blanc, they both decided upon the grilled dhufish, and when the waiter had gone, he dropped the mask of theatricality.
'So tell me, why do you have time on your hands these days?'
'How do you mean?'
'That's what Mike said. He said you had time on your hands these days, his exact words. But surely you're working?'
'Yes, of course I am.' Her response was instinctively defensive, although she didn't know why. 'I work at the Institute. Mike's established a whole department devoted to human ecotoxicological research, which naturally requires medical input.'
Andy appeared interested, expecting her to go on, but Jo found herself admitting the truth.
'Well, I report in several days a week, but there's not really much for me to do any more. Certainly not the way there was in the early days. They employ full-time experts now.'
'I see.' What had happened to the ambitious, dedicated Johanna Whitely, Andy wondered. Swallowed up by her husband's career? But he'd noted the defensiveness, so he changed the subject. 'Tell me about Allie,' he said. 'She's as beautiful as I'd expected, but what's she up to?'
The move had been a wise one, he realised, as Jo launched into a proud account of her daughter's academic achievements. Allie had completed her course in marine biology and was currently in the second year of her PhD, she told him. Her primary supervisor was the estuarine research coordinator for the WA Environmental Protection Authority, a Dr Ernest Hodgkin, but much of her work was being conducted at the Institute.
'Which means Mike's really acting as her secondary supervisor,' she said. 'It's fantastic for them both, they love working together.'
'What's her PhD subject?' he asked.
'I can't remember the full title, but it involves the importance of nutrient flow and balance in the estuarine river systems of WA's south-west.'
'I'm impressed.' He was. 'So does she have time for a love life?' he asked with a dimpled grin. 'I imagine she'd have to fight them off.'
'Oh, they come after her in droves, but she doesn't need to fight them off – they give up when she doesn't notice them. Allie's like her father: career-focused and totally tunnel-visioned.'
The wine arrived.
'She did have a boyfriend a while back,' Jo continued as the waiter poured Andy a taster. 'A very nice young man called Greg. They were doing the same course at uni and they became very close, but she dropped him after about a year. Poor Greg, he's still very much in love with her.'
Andy gave a nod to the waiter, who proceeded to pour the wine.
'So she's a heartbreaker like her mother,' he quipped.
'Yes, possibly.' Jo smiled, she didn't perceive any dig in the remark; it was just Andy being funny. 'Greg's working with Mike at the Institute now, and I'm sure he accepted the position so that he could be near Allie. He graduated brilliantly – he could have gone anywhere.'
How things had changed, she thought. No longer was Greg a threat in Mike's eyes, far from it. In Mike's opinion, young Greg Saunders was a highly committed marine biologist, the perfect man to have on their team, and quite possibly the perfect partner for his daughter had she been so inclined. But Allie, much as she genuinely cared for Greg, was oblivious to all but her work. Just as her father had been at her age, Jo remembered. Strange, she thought, how the relationship between Allie and Greg rather reminded her of Mike and herself when they were at university. Only the roles were reversed.
'Well, here's to two women practised in the art.'
Andy's toast jolted her back to the moment. What had he said?
'Heartbreakers, the pair of you.' He raised his glass. 'To you and Allie.'
She laughed, as she was sure he'd intended her to, but for just one moment she wondered whether she'd registered a touch of bitterness.
'Your turn, Andy. Tell me about yourself.'
'I married on the rebound.' His manner continued flippant, but she sensed he was serious. 'A nice woman called Tanya who really deserved better. It only lasted four years, but long enough to produce two children.'
They talked about his son and his daughter and it was Andy's turn to boast. They were both at Sydney University and he plainly adored them. 'At least something worthwhile eventuated from a marriage doomed to fail,' he said.
The dhufish arrived and, as they ate, Jo asked him about his work. She was beginning to think it was safer to avoid personal subjects.
'Business for the federal government, you said – that covers a multitude of sins.'
'Gaden, Birch & Hall, Law and Accountancy,' he announced with all due solemnity. 'I joined forces ten years ago with a couple of financial geniuses and that's the name of our company. We're trouble-shooters known as GBH, which is pretty hilarious when you think about it.'
She looked mystified.