Dark Oil (31 page)

Alan nodded. “This time it was successful. We're hoping the new government will be prepared to talk.”

He shoved papers in front of them. On the first page a thirty-something African man in military clothing showed off a brilliant smile. Behind him was a crowd of mostly young people—teenagers, children even.

Jack flinched. He couldn't believe Alan would send Lara back there if it would put her in danger again. “Alan, how stable is it so soon after a coup? I'll go if you want me to, but I wouldn't recommend Lara—

Alan shook his head. “I wouldn't ask you to go to Negala, Jack, not when we've evacuated all our people from there, except for a few of the local employees who insisted on staying. No, I want you to go here.” He handed him a business card. “You need to see these people.”

“International experts?” Jack asked.

Alan nodded. “The best, I'm told.”

“They are,” Lara agreed and Jack wondered whether this was Lara's idea or Alan's.

“Find out what our options are, whether we should be talking to the military government. Get a feel for what the international community is likely to do. Will they recognise this new government? As Lara was saying earlier, you need to find out what our rights are.”

Lara cleared her throat. “Yes. There are lots of questions. Should we continue to seek to enforce our title? What's happening with the court system in country? Is there a forum to hear our claim or have the courts been suspended? It happens in these jurisdictions.”

Jack looked at the business card. “Hubert et Dubois.” His lips curled up with pleasure when he read the address on the business card. He was going to the most romantic of cities with the only woman in the world who mattered to him. The day just kept getting better. “Paris should be safe enough. Except, of course, there are the French wines. . .”

There was no sign of life on Alan's face. He was clearly not amused. “In a few days, the end of the week at worst, we'll have assessed the risk of uprising. We'll know whether it's safe enough to send you to Zakra. Get over to Paris as soon as the experts are available. It'll give you a pretty accurate picture of our rights, so you can come up with a strategy, which, of course, you will run by me before heading back to Negala.”

“Certainly.” A polite, furtive smile lit up Lara's face and Jack found himself melting even though she was looking at the CEO, not at him. “We'll keep you informed, Alan.”

Jack nodded. “Yes. No phone problems in Paris.”

“Talk to Cheryl about your flights.” Alan turned to his computer to start working. It was time to move on.

Jack hesitated for a second, but then gave in to his curiosity. “Martin?”

Alan didn't look up. “He's in Mexico. You two are going to have to manage without him.”

Lara stood first. As she passed in front of Jack, heading for the door, he thought of what might have happened to her.

In a second, images of a break-up ran through his head, Lara and Tim separating. Then he saw himself holding Lara in his arms. He tried to calm down. After all, there was no sign of it. He discreetly checked her left hand. She was wearing her wedding ring. He sighed.

Still, the impulse to talk to Lara was strong and hope propelled him. He jumped to his feet, ready to follow her as she walked out.

“Oh, Jack. Just a minute.” Alan swivelled in his chair. “These are for you.”

Jack took the monthly safety report, nodding his thanks. That'd be right—when he finally got an opportunity to spend a few minutes with Lara, Alan would slow him down. He bolted through the door after her, biting his lip.

He thought back to what Lara had told him about Tim, how she'd suspected he was seeing another woman. Things hadn't been going all that well at home for a while. Now, she was shaken, he could see that. Her weary eyes told him she hadn't been sleeping properly. She was probably going through a rough patch.

Jack hated Tim, even without knowing the man, hated him for what he could see he was doing to Lara.

Perhaps one day, soon, she'd find the courage to leave her husband. She'd get over Tim and whatever the bastard had done to her. Jack would be around when she felt better. No one ever died from a broken heart, except in the movies.

Perhaps he could convince her that he'd love her much more than Tim ever did. Perhaps in Paris. It was the most romantic city in the world, was it not? In the meantime she had charged down the corridor ahead of him. “Lara!” cried Jack. “Hang on. Can we talk for a minute?”

She turned around briefly, shaking her head. “I've got a meeting. I'm in a hurry, Jack.”

He caught up with her and put his hand on her shoulder. “Please. One minute. That's all I ask.”

“One minute.” She was business-like. Gone was the warmth Jack had come to relish. He wasn't sure why. “Is everything all right? You look a little tired.”

“I am. Things have been hectic both here and at home.”

“If there's anything I can do or you want to talk some time. . .”

She smiled and for an instant he saw the old Lara. “Thanks for offering, but I'm all right.”

“Did I offend you with my phone calls? I only called twice to make sure you'd got the message. I was hoping to have coffee one day. I'm sorry if I said something—”

She cut him off. “Everything's fine, Jack. It's not the best of times for me, that's all. I'll see you on the plane.” He sensed there was something else. She was definitely keeping her distance.

His day had become a rollercoaster and now he was falling so fast it felt like the only possible thing ahead was a derailment. Defeated, he nodded. What else could he do? There was nothing he could say.

He watched her walk down to her office and disappear from sight. His arms fell to his sides, heavy, useless, since they couldn't hold the woman he loved.

Lara was hurt. All Jack wanted was to help her through whatever it was that was troubling her. All he wanted right now was to be a rock for her in times of pain.

He could wait until the good times were back. He could wait to share the sunshine with her, but she was purposely distancing herself from him, shutting him out. There was nothing he could do about that, nothing at all and it broke his heart. He didn't know how much longer he could take it.

Lara hugged her mother. She tried not to show it, but it hurt her to see Susan go through test after test. “I'll be thinking of you the whole time.”

“Don't worry, love.” Susan patted Lara's hand. “I'll be fine. I've done it all before.”

Lara smiled. “I know.” Why the results had been inconclusive was a mystery to Lara. The doctors had said it sometimes happened, they'd vaguely explained something about the quality of the sample, but she still couldn't understand it. Or rather, couldn't accept it. It didn't seem fair to have to go through this all over again.

“How come it's taken all this time, Mum? Surely you shouldn't have to wait this long for an appointment after they messed up.” It must have been two months now that her mother had got the results of the very first test, two months during which she'd avoided answering Lara's questions and made excuses.

Susan batted her eyelids before turning away. Lara knew that look. “Mum? There's something you're not telling me.”

Susan shrugged. “I may have forgotten an appointment or two.”

“What?” Lara took a deep breath in an effort not to explode. She knew time was of the essence with cancer. A new lump on the liver, close to where the first one had been excised, had to be dealt with immediately. “You forgot?”

“It was sort of there in the back of my mind. But yes, love, I forgot.” Susan brushed the hair off her daughter's cheek. “You'll see when you're older. I suppose I wanted a few more weeks of peace. Inconclusive can be a blessing.” She drew a long breath. “But I'm ready now.”

The nurse appeared. “Mrs Hampton?”

Susan kissed Lara. “I'll see you after Paris.”

Lara hugged her as if for the last time. “Will you be all right with Aunty Beth?”

“Of course, love. I'm more worried about you, after what that bastard of a husband did to you. You get yourself to the airport. You need your career now more than ever. And make sure you eat.”

Lara smiled, looking away to hide her eyes brimming with tears. “I'll ring you, OK? I love you, Mum.”

“I love you, too.” Susan followed the nurse down the corridor and disappeared behind a swinging door.

Lara checked her watch. It was four o'clock. She had to go if she was going to manage a shower, gather her things and make the flight. She stood there a little longer, gazing at the white walls. She didn't want to leave.

She wanted to stay with her mother, even if she knew Susan would be perfectly fine with her sister Beth. The trip was bad timing for Lara, again, but she needed the job. She was on her own now. She had no choice but to support herself. Her mother was right.

And Paris would be lovely. Any other time she would have been excited to go there. She would have made plans. She would have scoured travel magazines for tips and lists of what to see. She might have stayed an extra day or two, to shop and visit the Louvre.

Any other time she would have been especially excited to be going there as a woman without ties, with a man like Jack by her side. He was even more intoxicating than Paris, yet she couldn't shake her need to recoil, couldn't ignore her wariness. She thought of those
pouty red lips, those perky breasts she'd seen in her own bathroom. Frankie. She hated that woman. She hated Tim.

How she wished she hadn't opened that door! Now she had to live with that image, an image that wasn't just Tim and his mistress. It was every husband, every man capable of infidelity. Was Jack any different? Could she take that risk? Was her mother right? Perhaps Lara shouldn't close her heart, but oh, if she went through the same again, with a man who lied to her. . .how many times could she pick herself up and dust herself off? Would she be able to do that again?

No. “Trust no one”, she told herself, “And you won't get hurt again”. For now, at least, it seemed the best option. Especially, don't trust Jack. He was a flirt, probably even a home-wrecker. He must have stolen Ange, torn Martin's marriage apart. And he was dangerous because despite what her mind told her, despite her better judgement, he still made her tremble. She longed for his arms, and could lose herself in his gaze if she let down her guard for an instant. That's why she'd kept her distance lately, had avoided him whenever possible and when she'd been in the same office as him had been as business-like as she could.

She had managed to keep him at bay so far, but how would she cope now? She couldn't avoid him any longer. They were flying to Paris together—Paris, the most romantic city on Earth, of all places!

She would have to see him, to spend days on end with him. There was no choice in the matter. Still, she would make sure she protected her feelings and her heart; she would give nothing of herself. She would work with him, and that was all. Full stop.

She drove home in the daze she'd seemed to be in on and off since Tim had left over a week ago. It was as if she was struggling to wake from a nightmare or she'd been given a sleeping tablet. She'd been occasionally forgetful, never at work, but around the house and generally had cared little about the home. Sure, she'd done the basic weekly clean, but she didn't care how the cushions sat or if the air was scented. It all seemed so pointless.

Over the years she'd often admired the pretty front garden, the heady frangipani now in flower, and the impeccable rows of azaleas as she walked up the front path. Today she ignored them all. To her, the blue sky wasn't blue at all. It was irrelevant. Deep down, there was an emptiness in her heart, even if she told herself she was fine.

In the house, she headed straight for the shower. She undressed, letting her clothes fall to the floor. She was about to hop in and open the tap when the door bell rang. She sighed. Who was it now? It was probably a salesman hoping to sign her up for a new mobile phone plan. She had neither the time nor the need for that.

She stepped into the shower. The bell rang again, this time longer, the shrill sound so unpleasant she wanted to block her ears. Huffing, she gave up on her five minutes of peace under the warm water and put on a robe. She hurried down the corridor and through the lounge room to the front door. The impatient visitor pressed the bell a third time.

As she opened the door she let out a wail. Her stomach felt like it twisted. She wished she'd stayed in the bathroom, ignoring the incessant chime. It would have been worth the annoyance. If only she had, she wouldn't be feeling like a volcano about to erupt.

Her mouth was dry. “What the hell do you think you are doing here? With those? You think they can fix things?”

Tim held out an enormous bunch of red roses. “Can I come in?”

Lara shook her head. “Not a chance.” She closed the door in his face.

He banged on it. “Please, Lara. There's something I have to say to you. It's important. Please. I know I was wrong. Come on, open up.”

“Get lost.” She couldn't stand the sight of him. All she wanted was to hit him, pound his chest, screaming. He had betrayed her, insulted her intelligence and belittled her. He had slept with another woman in Lara's own bed. He had mocked her and everything she'd done to make their marriage work. He had left her body aching for sex, ignored her advances so many times, when he'd satisfied his own desires with
that
woman. How could he show up with a bunch of roses and think all would be forgiven? How could he show up at all?

“Five minutes,” he shouted. “For ten years together. Five minutes. It's all I ask. Surely you're not going to deny me that, are you?”

She walked towards the shower. The bell rang again, this time without interruption. He kept his finger on it. Furious, she stomped back through the lounge and flung open the door. “If you don't go I'll call the police.”