Dark Oil (21 page)

She got out of bed much earlier than usual, and stood at the window watching the sky turn pink, then a purplish blue. Her body ached, probably more from the previous day's flight than the firm bed in the guest room in which she'd slept. She hadn't realised how hard that mattress was, hadn't slept in that room before, but it seemed the only option last night. She certainly couldn't lie in the master bedroom where that woman with the red lips and perky breasts had rolled around with Tim the traitor.

Slowly, she wandered down to the kitchen and served herself a glass of apple juice. She walked back through the family room, looking around, sipping on her drink, and it struck her that none of the objects in the home truly reflected who she was. They were all in Tim's image, from the cold marble clock on the mantelpiece, to the leather and steel chairs. She would change them. She'd change everything: the furniture, the house, her life.

She took a shower. It was wonderful to feel the drops of water run down her body, her hair melting in volume like a horse's mane in the rain. She opened her mouth and tasted it, opened her eyes and let the drops in. She was cleansed.

It was still early as she finished in the bathroom and she had a couple of hours up her sleeve before she had to get to the office. She decided to drive down to the bakery in Cottesloe and take croissants to her mother. Yes, that would be a lovely surprise for Susan and just the boost Lara needed to get through the day.

She wouldn't even have to tell her mother about Tim and how he'd betrayed her. She could keep that for another time, just enjoy the morning with Susan, chat about little things for the sake of chatting, the way mothers and daughters do. She could do that, couldn't she? It would be a nice start to the day, and she definitely needed cheering up.

Lara arrived in Cottesloe so early that parking wasn't a hassle. She hurried up the street in the crisp air and knew she had reached the French bakery well before she saw it, so sweet was the aroma of warm dough. She chose a couple of
pains au chocolat
and
friands
and made her way back to the car.

It wasn't long before she was standing in Susan's driveway, arms filled with treats. She took a few seconds to admire the stunning sea views from her mother's upmarket villa and then entered the yard through the intricate wrought iron gate. She wandered through the lush topiary garden, past the Italian marble fountain, to the antique French front door. She pressed the intercom.

“Mum? Mum, it's me, Lara.”

There was silence, followed by a crackling sound, and then her mother answered, choking with emotion. “Love? You're back?” Within moments, Susan threw open the door and wrapped her arms around Lara, and the two women hugged with the warmth and enthusiasm of two people who belong together.

“Mum, you're squashing our breakfast.” Lara pulled away, chuckling. It was good to be with her mother. There was nothing quite as comforting—even if Susan had no idea Lara needed comfort.

“Oops,” said Susan, covering her mouth with her hand, and Lara couldn't help noticing how much she looked like her mother. She always did, when she hadn't seen Susan for a while, always thought she'd be just like her twenty five years from now.

The women sat on the balcony, looking out to the sparkling blue waters already busy with boats of all sizes and chatted as they ate and sipped tea.

“Oh, Lara, it's so nice to see you. I've been worried about you being over there.”

Lara smiled. “I'm fine, Mum. I missed you, though.”

“Me too. I'm glad you're back safe and sound. How was it?”

“Well, it was. . .” She thought for a while and the word that came to mind was “Amazing”. Yes, it had been an incredible experience, even though she had been scared, worried and saddened by what she had seen. “It was truly amazing. A very different world. I was in good hands, with two seasoned travellers.” One of whom made her feel particularly safe, and more alive than ever—Jack. But she wasn't going to talk about him, wasn't going to think of any man, not after what Tim had done. Jack was probably capable of just as much. Martin had warned her so. She banished any thoughts of him and smiled at her mother. “More importantly, how are you feeling?”

“I'm fine, darling. Not long and we should have a good idea about whether I'll need treatment again. But I won't. I can feel it.”

Lara tried to steady her voice. “I'm sure you're right.” She wanted to believe it. Her mother had been through hell already. And there was so much more Lara longed to do with her than sit around in hospitals. To think that she might end up fighting for her life again was too much to bear.

Lara pushed away the thought as if ignoring it would stop the progression of any malignant cells. She continued chatting with Susan, about nothing much. It was good to talk to her, good to listen.

“And how's Tim?” asked Susan after a while. “I didn't see him at all while you were away. I went around a few times. He must have been working late.”

Lara smiled, but she could feel the abnormal tightness of her cheeks and the lump in her throat and guessed she probably looked more like she was suffering from toothache.

Susan frowned. “Is everything OK? I mean between the two of you?”

Lara bit her lip, trying to hold back the tears, not wanting to even mention Tim, but how did you hide pain this fresh from your own mother? Without a word, Susan held her and guided her daughter's head to her shoulder.

The tears flowed easily, quickly and Lara felt a weight lift from her heavy heart. Soon, she blurted out the whole story, how she'd left a message at the office, thinking that's where Tim would be, how she'd walked in on them, how the young woman with the red pout had mocked her. She couldn't bring herself to tell Susan that Tim and Frankie had been waiting for her to die, didn't want her mother to know anyone, let alone someone she was related to, even if only by marriage, would want the world to be rid of her.

“Oh, asshole! I hope he rots in hell, the bloody bastard!” It was so odd to hear her mother swear that Lara burst into laughter, and Susan accompanied her, their chuckles mixing with harmony.

Lara glanced at her watch. “I'm sorry, Mum, I have to go. They won't mind me starting a little later today, it's my first day back but I don't want to push my luck.”

Susan kissed her on the forehead. “You're a wonderful woman. Don't you worry, there's someone much better than Tim out there for you. I know that. You're going to be just fine. And so am I.”

“You're right. We'll be fine. But another man, I don't think so.”

Lara waved goodbye to her mother and drove off feeling much more content and certain she could face the world. She wouldn't be the first person to go through a divorce. She knew she'd survive. It hadn't been twenty four hours since she'd found Tim with Frankie and already she felt strong enough to get through a day at the office, strong enough to get on with life. In fact, throwing herself into work would be perfect. She'd always loved that about her job. She had to concentrate so much that there was no room in her mind for any of her personal concerns, be they mundane or pressing.

Within a few minutes Lara was in Perth's business centre. She parked in Global Oil's underground car park and made her way up to her office. It felt strange being there and somewhat clinical. She had been happy to work in an office. In fact, she'd never questioned it, never thought about her work environment. She'd simply taken it for granted—until now. Returning from Negala had the unexpected result that her view of working life had changed dramatically.

Suddenly it felt boring to sit at a desk day after day, in her clean, artificial space, under fluorescent lighting, with little human contact, preparing contracts, answering emails and reading pedantic letters.

Sure, it was a safe job, with good working conditions. She should have been grateful. She was grateful. It more than paid the bills, it had afforded her a very nice lifestyle with Tim and now, more importantly, secured her independence. But how little excitement there was in her professional life in Perth!

She had watched some of the lawyers around her become addicted to the type of work that took them away from their families on a regular basis, the type of position that gave them more frequent flyer points than they could ever use. She had always thought she could do without that.

Now she understood the additional dimension it gave to their existence. Routine flew out the window, as did the usual office hierarchy and daily submission to superiors—with the exception of having to call Alan Smiles, of course. In many ways you became a pioneer, an explorer, and the sky was the limit.

Meetings with government officials, press conferences, visits to Ministers' homes were the norm. And when you stretched out in that big seat in business class, you felt you were someone. Yes, she could definitely see the attraction.

Still, she would have given it all up without batting an eyelid to have a child. A child Tim didn't want. What use was it thinking about that now? That side of her life was over and men, well, they were probably all lying cheats. She let out her breath.

“Is there a problem?” Martin was walking by.

“A problem?”

“You sighed.”

She smiled. “Sorry. Just thinking of what I need to do.”

“Well, get on with it instead of thinking about it.” Obviously Martin had switched back to permanent grumpy mode since they had returned from Negala.

She guessed the CEO was breathing down his neck again, perhaps more than ever, wanting him to resolve the Negalese issue as fast as possible. She also suspected Martin was
missing the globe-trotting. On the plus side, he didn't have to put up with Jack twenty four seven any more.

Nor did she. She looked around, half hoping she'd catch a glimpse of him or bump into him. She missed his humour, his strength, the way he made her feel safe and. . . special. He was interested in her. He genuinely cared. She was sure of that.

She shook her head, looking at her wedding ring, which she'd kept on for now to avoid any questions at the office, even though she was itching to take it off. She didn't want to think about Jack, or any man for that matter. No, she'd had it with men.

As Martin walked by his office, his phone rang. He grabbed it, and then waved Lara over before putting down the receiver. “Meeting with Alan right now,” he blurted.

“What about?” Something must have happened.

“You'll soon find out.”

Lara dashed into her own office, picked up a pad and pen and hurried down the corridor to the CEO's office. She cleared her mind before entering, preparing it for the information overload that was about to come.

She knew Alan by now. He would race through things, assume she'd already been told the half of it, and expect her to pick everything else up in a flash. He wouldn't repeat anything.

Martin hadn't waited for her. He was already there, sitting across from Alan, with gloom in his eyes.

Two other chairs had been pulled out, one for her and one for someone else. She sat, staring at the empty fourth chair, wondering whether Jack was about to turn up.

Alan ignored her as she quietly opened her notebook and prepared her pen. The instant she was ready he turned to her like a vulture ready to pick at his prey, his gaze piercing through to her bones. “The Minister has sent word he's now available for discussions. I want you to go back there with Martin and fight with everything we've got.”

Her heart sank against her will, against her better judgment. He had said “With Martin”. Not Martin and Jack, just Martin. Jack wouldn't be there. She was more disappointed than she cared to admit. Not really because she would be with Martin, but because she wouldn't be with Jack. She clicked her tongue, annoyed with herself. It was much better Jack wouldn't be there. Much better, since she really had no interest in him or any other member of the male species.

Alan cleared his throat. “You have a carte blanche as far as briefing local lawyers.”

She wasn't admitted to practise in a foreign jurisdiction. Most lawyers weren't. It was usually the case that she would rely on advice from local lawyers before forming her own judgment where foreign law came into play. But something told her Negala would be a different story.

“My sense is the local lawyers aren't likely to be highly qualified. Even if we do find a good one, chances are he”, she purposely used the masculine, there wouldn't be many women lawyers in Negala, “Will have links to the government. And we don't want the government to be informed of everything we are going to do before we do it.”

Alan pursed his lips in a way that told her he was both exasperated and disgusted by the whole situation. “What do you recommend?”

She tilted her head, hoping to soften her suggestion. “We'll eventually need the help of an international expert. Someone like Jean Dubois in Paris. It will be costly.”

Alan grunted. “How much?”

“The price of a small car per day.”

Alan raised his eyebrows and gave a little nod, as if to say it was a nice packet for what they did, but then his usual terse expression returned. “So be it. Brief them when you think it's necessary. We can't sit back and let the Negalese take our permit away just like that. We've got shareholders to think about and a reputation to defend. It's our honour, damn it! Besides we don't want to set a precedent.”

Lara nodded, as if they were in perfect agreement, but a little knot formed in her stomach. She was about to warn the CEO, a warning that might look like she was contradicting him. And he wasn't one to put up with dissent.

She leaned forward, her hands clasped together. “Of course, we have to do what's in the best interest of our shareholders. However, and I don't say this lightly, we have to look at what we can get out of all this. Best case scenario the Minister balks at the prospect of litigation and we get the title back. And it will seem we got the best outcome. For a while.”