So he sent it to her, with the message—‘To inspire you to dream, from the enemy’. But it appeared Tina.Carter@ wasn’t her email address. So he tried Ernestine.Carter@, but that didn’t work either. Well, how ridiculous that her email address was so hard to get.
Thankfully, her boss’s email address was easy to find and knowing no politician would see it without their staffer doing so first, he sent it. Then he got on with his day.
Cecily
Cecily was going through Michelle’s emails when one came in from an address she would never have expected—Alec Moncrieff.
Why the hell was he emailing her boss? What was he up to now?
Cecily opened it and read the message. It really, really didn’t sound good. Then she opened the attachment and almost fell out of her chair.
The email wasn’t for Michelle—it was for her. And there was a banner proclaiming her for PM.
First reaction—shivers, moving through her body. Second reaction—anger. She’d made it perfectly clear that she wasn’t interested but apparently Alec Moncrieff was one of those men who couldn’t take no for an answer.
She emailed back. ‘I did not ask for this, nor am I happy to see it. I have made it clear, Mr Moncrieff, I have no interest in you. Kindly stop pursuing me.’
His reply came a few minutes later. ‘My apologies for not making myself clear. I know a pursuit of you is pointless and have put it from my mind. But my spidey senses tell me you will be someone amazing and I want to ensure you believe as well. If I am to be at my best, I must have the best opponents.’
First reaction—disappointment. He’d already put her from his mind, when she couldn’t stop thinking about him? That wasn’t fair. Second reaction—delight. He might have put pursuit of her from his mind, as she had asked, but she was still in his thoughts. The banner was proof of that.
Cecily looked at it again. It was professionally designed, that was clear. He’d gone out of his way to organise this and send it to her, because he believed in her. It was the most thoughtful gift anyone had ever given her.
God damn him for being on the wrong side.
She emailed him back. ‘I thank you for the thoughtfulness, Mr Moncrieff, but must insist on no more. I do not need any further encouragement to believe I could nail you to the wall if I had to.’
His reply—‘Then let the fight begin!’
There. They were both safely in their corners, and there was no thought of them being anything but political opponents. Maybe that would stop the hot dreams that had been plaguing her at night.
‘Good afternoon.’ John almost skipped into the office. Happiness was radiating from every part of his body, especially the massive smile on his face.
‘Good afternoon. You must have had a good lunch.’
‘I had a wonderful lunch, and life is full of sweet possibilities. Plus, it’s here.’ He waved an envelope at her.
Cecily’s heart thudded. ‘Passport and tickets?’
‘Passport and tickets. Congratulations, Cecily. You are going on your first overseas trip, and at the taxpayer’s expense.’
Cecily gave him an evil glare for the last comment. Then she took the envelope, opened it and looked at the paperwork.
Finally, she had a passport. This opened up all sorts of possibilities. For starters, it made getting a driver’s license easier—she wouldn’t have to show her birth certificate. She could learn to drive. Get a snazzy little car and take off for trips on weekends.
And she could go on holiday. Fiji. Bali. Koh Samui. Places that people talked about that seemed like impossibilities to Cecily.
England. Those childhood dreams could come true. She could go to England and see castles. Grand homes. The dales. The moors. The Lake District.
It was like the entire world was before her.
She hugged it to her chest and had to blink tears from her eyes to smile at John. ‘Thank you. You have no idea what this means to me.’
‘It’s just a junket, Cecily. There are a lot of rules attached about what you can and cannot do. You are a representative of the Australian government.’
That focused Cecily on the trip. The international contacts she could begin to make. Contacts that might one day prove important in her career. ‘I’ll be the best damn government representative that Australia has ever seen.’
‘Don’t get carried away, old girl. You are allowed to have fun as well.’
John left and Cecily sat down, staring at her passport. Her passport. Something she had thought would never happen.
She could conquer the world. Do anything she wanted. Take chances.
***
That night, champagne bottle in hand, she met Gwen in the lobby.
‘Celebrating?’ Gwen nodded at the champagne with a smile.
‘In fact I am.’ Cecily looked at Gwen and decided to take a gamble. ‘Would you like to join me?’
‘I would,’ Gwen said. ‘What are we celebrating?’
‘It’s a long story, best told over a glass of bubbly.’
Upstairs, Cecily poured the drinks and arranged a platter of cheese, olives and cold meats. She and Gwen sat out on the balcony.
‘To celebrating, whatever it is we are celebrating.’ Gwen raised her glass.
‘We are celebrating freedom.’ Cecily clinked hers against Gwen’s.
‘Intriguing. Do explain.’
‘First, I need to apologise to you. I have been lying to you. My name isn’t Tina. It’s Cecily.’
‘Cecily.’ A pause. ‘Are you really the C. Carter on the building list?’
‘I am. I have a tendency to not let people know my real name unless I have to, or I decide to. It’s not my favourite name because it was given to me by the government.’
‘Cecily, you have a definite turn for the dramatic. Given to you by the government?’
‘I was a foundling. My parents abandoned me and I was raised by various foster families. No one knows the name I was born with, so I was given the name Cecily Carter. I don’t like it all that much because it’s a constant reminder of where I came from, so when I can I introduce myself as Tina. But if we are to be friends, and I think we are, then you should know the truth.’
‘Cecily.’ Tears rose in Gwen’s eyes. ‘You really grew up without a family?’
‘I did. Please don’t get upset. I had some fantastic foster families, and one in particular where I am still part of the family. And I did okay. The past has happened, and it can’t be changed. I prefer to focus on the future.’
‘That is so wise of you,’ Gwen said. ‘I have to admit, as much as my family drives me insane, I am so devoted to them that it would do my head in to lose them.’
‘Tell me about your family,’ Cecily said. She found people’s stories of lives in loving groups fascinating. Particularly because sometimes, they were as rotten as her own childhood. Being in a family didn’t always mean everything was good.
‘I’m the only girl, with three brothers. Two older, one younger. I come from a town in country Victoria called Tybrim. My grandfather farms near there, with my uncle. My father came into town as a young man and became a mechanic. My mother’s main occupation is child-rearer, closely followed by town-conscience. They are very traditional. The fact that I’m in my mid-twenties and unmarried is seen as almost an abomination. The only thing that would be worse would be if I married someone from somewhere else and lived there permanently. The only reason my parents agreed to me coming to Canberra was to work for Barry, because they love the party almost as much as they love their children. Every time I go home, Mum is trying to set me up with someone. But I grew up in that town, with all those boys. The older ones and the younger, through my brothers, as well as my peers. If there was a man there I wanted, I’d have him by now. But Mum doesn’t get that. I must marry a Tybrim boy and live there and have my children there, so she can be Grandma.’
Cecily smiled at the growing frustration in Gwen’s voice. ‘I can’t begin to imagine what having a contr
olling mother like that would be like.’
‘I live in hope that one day she will snap out of it, although I know it to be a false hope,’ Gwen said. ‘My cousin is getting married in a few weeks and Mum is being particularly difficult about it.’
Cecily remembered the calico dress Gwen had been wearing at the dressmaker’s. ‘The bridesmaid’s dress.’
‘Mother is incensed that I am using a Canberra dressmaker, and that I am not getting a traditional bridesmaid’s dress. She’s worried it will make me look ridiculous and I’ll never snare a man if I look ridiculous.’
‘Maybe it will help you snare the right man. And even in calico, I could see you will look far from ridiculous in the real dress.’
‘You should see how it’s coming up in the material. Paula sent me a photo.’ Gwen pulled out her phone and within moments was showing Cecily a photograph of a long, shimmering sheath of a dress in the most stunning blue/green material.
‘It’s gorgeous. You will look amazing.’
‘I think so. Any man who doesn’t want to marry me when he sees me in this isn’t worth knowing,’ Gwen said, looking at the photo with a smile. ‘Not that I’ll want any of the men attending that wedding to marry me. Although I live in hope there might be one man there I haven’t met before and he might be the one.’
‘Do you want to marry that much?’
‘To the right man—absolutely. I mean, as mad as my mother makes me, when I see the smile on her face when Dad comes in the door, well, I want that feeling for myself. But I’m not going to marry for the sake of marrying. Either it’s the right guy, or no one at all. What about you?’
‘I do,’ Cecily said. ‘And I want to have babies. And I want to hold them and love them and make sure they never feel abandoned or alone.’
Gwen put her hand on Cecily’s. ‘I hope you get that. I really do.’
Both women smiled, and then blinked a tear away. ‘You said something about celebrating freedom,’ Gwen said.
‘Yes. Because of my past, getting things like passports has been difficult but thanks to a wonderful friend, I have one. For the first time in my life, I can consider an overseas holiday. Studying overseas. Maybe even working overseas.’
‘That is worth celebrating. Congratulations.’ They clinked glasses again. ‘What will the first trip be?’
‘A political study tour to New Zealand.’
‘Well, that’s disappointing,’ Gwen said. ‘We’ll just have to make the next use of the passport absolutely superb. I can recommend Bali. It’s great.’
The rest of the night was spent planning amazing overseas holidays. It was the most comfortable night Cecily had spent with someone for a long time.
As she left, Gwen kissed Cecily’s cheek. ‘We will be great friends, Tina Cecily Carter.’
Cecily went to bed sure that Gwen was right.
John
John gave Gwen twenty-four hours to think about the possibility of him switching parties, then he texted her.
‘Any chance we can have a drink? No pressure.’
Her response was immediate. ‘Sure. Tonight at my place.’
John went through the rest of the day smiling.
At seven, he arrived at the apartment block and Gwen let him straight in. She opened her door, but without a smile. Just a nod of her head.
John came inside and started toward the balcony, but stopped when he saw there wasn’t any drinks set up out there. He turned to Gwen as she closed the door.
‘Thank you for seeing me,’ he said.
Gwen walked across to her dining table and sat. She gestured gracefully to the chair opposite. John took it and then they were looking at each other. Gwen, of course, was beautiful as always—although he much preferred her hair down around her shoulders, like it had been that first night, rather than up in a bun as it was at present. Then he noticed she was looking at him with calm serenity, rather than any sort of happiness.
Silence stretched. Finally, John realised that Gwen intended he take the lead in this conversation. So, he began.
‘I am glad you agreed to see me, because there is something important I need to talk to you about. You see, I’m having a crisis of faith.’
Gwen just looked at him. A niggling doubt stirred deep inside John. Had Alec not said anything to her? What if she hadn’t been thinking about him for the past day and a half?
‘Your determination that we can’t make a relationship work because we are on different sides of politics has made me question the role of politics in my life. I mean, it’s a great passion, but if it’s going to keep me from someone as wonderful as you, is it worth it?’
Still no response. Not even a movement of her eye. It was like she was made of marble.
‘I’ve been wondering if maybe, in a fit of student idealism, I signed up to the wrong side. Maybe I should have chosen your side.’
Finally, she responded. ‘How did you get involved in politics?’
‘University. I was drawn to the party by some intriguing individuals I met.’
‘In other words, you joined because of a girl.’
John would have smiled that she knew him so well, except the disapproval in her voice said joining a political party for a girl was a stupid thing to do. ‘I was captivated by the passion of those involved, by the strategy of trying to get your position across, about how you could do something to change people’s lives. By the time I left university, I wanted to stay involved and eventually, the path led me here to Canberra. Now we’re in government, and we’re doing things that actually impact people’s lives and that thrills me.’ He decided to leave out how wonderful they had been during the terrible time of his mother’s illness and death, and how that had cemented his dedication to them. ‘Why are you involved?’
‘My grandfather, and my parents, are both very political. All our dinner conversations were about politics. They work in the local branches, campaign during elections. For me, working in politics was a natural progression. I joined the local branch at sixteen, and I have been a part of it all ever since.’
Oh, god. She really was a true believer. ‘Did it never occur to you that maybe you are just blindly following your parents and haven’t considered the other side properly?’
He didn’t need the glare Gwen gave him to tell him that was a stupid thing to say. ‘I have indulged in enough debates with your side to have considered all your arguments carefully and refute them all. How about you? Have you considered my side?’
‘Actually, no,’ John said. ‘I never got into debates—I left that to others. I like the strategy, the negotiation, side of politics. But now, I’m starting to wonder. Because of you.’
‘So again, you’re going to let a girl decide your politics.’
He really was handling this badly. ‘I’m seeing a new way of viewing the world because of you. If that’s letting you lead me, then so be it. I am led.’
‘Are you serious about this?’
John put his hand to heart. ‘Deadly.’
‘Without the melodramatics, please.’
John put on his serious face. ‘I am absolutely serious about considering a switch of politics. I even spoke to Alec about it. That’s how serious I am.’
Gwen nodded. ‘I know you spoke to Alec.’ So she had known—why this coolness then? ‘But it occurred to me that this could be some sort of ploy, a way to make me take you back and pretend we don’t have an issue until it rises up and kills us both.’
John was starting to see there was a downside to dating an intelligent woman. ‘Why would I do that? It would doom us to failure, for me just to pretend to be thinking seriously about this, and for you to find that out. I want us to work, Gwen, I think we’re spectacular together and we will just get better with time.’
‘I think so too,’ Gwen said. ‘You swear you really are serious about this?’
‘I swear. Cross my heart and hope to die. And to prove my sincerity—let’s go sit out on your balcony, have a glass of wine and yo
u can begin my education.’
‘I think that’s a very good idea,’ Gwen said.
They moved to the balcony, and with the flag of Parliament House in the background, Gwen spent the next hour telling him the things she loved most about her side of politics. John heard the passion in her voice, watched the animation of her face, smiled as she gesticulated madly, and didn’t listen to a single word she said.
After an hour, he decided to change the conversation. ‘I feel like I need to do some reading, some study and reflection of my own. What would you recommend?’
‘Biographies,’ Gwen said. ‘There’s a couple that really spell out what the party is about and why it works and is the best for the Australian people.’
She led him inside and took four books off her bookshelf, handing them to him.
‘That should keep you going for starters,’ she said. ‘How about you take them home, and then you come over for dinner Saturday night and we can talk about what you think of it all?’
John schooled his face so his disappointment wouldn’t show. He’d hoped they’d both be so overcome with the joy of being back together that they would fall into bed.
‘That would be wonderful,’ he said. ‘I will dream of you every night until then. Farewell, Gwen.’
At home, he put the books on his dining table and stared at them mournfully. He was going to have to actually read at least one of them, so he could prove his commitment to Gwen on Saturday night.
Picking what he hoped would be the least offensive, he headed off to bed.
Gwendolen
Gwen spent Saturday getting prepared for the night ahead. Waxing. Massage. Cut and colour. New dress.
Either she was going to have to blast John out of the water for lying to her, and she wanted to look hella hot as she did it, or she was going to find out John was serious and she could risk letting him back into her life and her bed and she had to look hella hot for that as well.
John arrived with some lilies, which she put in water. They began the evening with entrées—stuffed mushrooms and bruschetta—out on the balcony.
The Importance of Ernestine Page 13
