The Helen Bianchin Collection

by Helen Bianchin

  ‘Celine Moore.’

  Oh, hell. Celine had never placed a phone order with them before. The question popped into Ana’s head…why now?

  ‘Problems?’

  ‘Hopefully not.’ She bit the edge of her lip, then ran another check on written and computer details to ensure they matched. ‘That was Celine.’

  Rebekah’s eyebrows rose. ‘She’s ordered flowers?’

  ‘A rushed delivery before noon,’ she confirmed. ‘Now, why am I suspicious?’

  ‘You think it’s a deliberate set-up?’

  ‘I think there’s a definite purpose.’

  Rebekah crossed to the counter, checked the details, then moved back to the work table. ‘I’ll do it now.’

  Lunch was something Ana ate during a brief break from the computer, and she ignored her sister’s admonition with a mischievous grin as she screwed up the paper from her take-away sandwich and tossed it successfully into the wastebin.

  ‘Think you’ve won, huh?’ Rebekah demanded with a teasing laugh. ‘Mid-afternoon you get to sip tea at the café and browse through a magazine. Capisce?’

  Ana wrinkled her nose. ‘Since when did you speak Italian?’

  ‘Heard it on television.’

  There was a lull around two, then the pace picked up as Rebekah readied orders for the afternoon delivery.

  The door buzzer sounded, followed by Rebekah’s softly voiced curse, and Ana glanced up from the computer screen to check the cause, then immediately wished she hadn’t, for there was Celine in a whirl of indignant volubility bearing down on her.

  Rebekah stepped forward to intercept the woman’s progress, only for Celine to bypass her and continue to where Ana sat behind the counter.

  ‘Is there a problem, Celine?’

  ‘Would I be here, if there wasn’t?’

  ‘Perhaps you could be specific?’

  The divorcee drew herself up to her full height and assumed an expression of hauteur. ‘I ordered a delivery of flowers this morning. They haven’t reached the person for whom they were intended. I specified same-day delivery and paid the extra cost to have them there prior to midday.’

  Ana called up the order on computer, then she checked the order book…a double system to minimise an error in recording apartment and private house numbers.

  She scrolled through the day’s listing…there it was. ‘Apartment 7, 5 Wilson Place.’ She named the suburb.

  ‘No, no. It was apartment 5, 7 Wilson Place.’

  Aware how easy it was to transpose numbers, Ana took particular care ensuring she got them right, repeating the numbers and writing them down, then requesting the customer to repeat them again as she keyed them into the computer. It wasn’t a totally infallible system, but it came close.

  ‘I don’t believe I made a mistake,’ she said quietly, and saw the angry glitter in Celine’s eyes intensify.

  ‘You made the error, you’re liable. What’s more, I’ve cancelled my credit-card purchase details.’

  ‘I’ll check with the delivery firm, and have him double-check his delivery details.’

  Celine began tapping the tips of her elegantly polished nails against the counter top. ‘Get on to it, Ana. I’m not moving from here until this mess is sorted out.’

  Ana used speed-dial, accessed the courier, explained the problem, and held while he checked his records. Minutes later she had the address confirmed, and she ended the call.

  ‘The order was delivered to the address you gave me. Apartment 7, 5 Wilson Place.’

  ‘I refuse to place any further orders with you.’ Celine’s voice rose, deliberately, Ana suspected, to ensure the two customers who had just entered the shop could hear. ‘This is the second time in a week you managed to stuff something up.’

  As an actress, she was superb, Ana conceded. Total melodrama, right down to the hand gestures, the tone, the body language. She had to still the desire to applaud her performance.

  ‘That’s your choice, Celine.’ On her way home, she’d do a little investigation of her own and visit both apartments. If only to satisfy herself Celine was bent on creating deliberate mischief.

  ‘You haven’t heard the last of this,’ Celine declared haughtily, and she swept from the shop in a blaze of triumph as the two customers hastily replaced two prepared bouquets and followed suit.

  Rebekah released a pent-up sigh. ‘Charming.’

  ‘Surely you jest?’ The query held uncustomary cynicism.

  ‘With friends like Celine, who needs enemies? More pertinent, what are we going to do about her?’

  ‘I have an idea in mind.’ She relayed it, and Rebekah grinned in response.

  ‘We’ll both reconnoitre the scene, then go on somewhere for dinner and catch a movie.’

  ‘Done.’

  It was after six when they managed to lock up, and a short while later they entered Wilson Place, parked, then entered the apartment building.

  They called the manager, explained the situation, and proceeded through to the bank of lifts.

  The occupant of Apartment 7 had received an unexpected delivery of flowers and figured to keep them.

  Alerting the florist listed on the accompanying card of the error wasn’t an option the occupant considered.

  It was a case of exiting the building and crossing to the adjoining building where they repeated the process, and discovered apartment 5 was owned by a Celine Moore.

  ‘Bingo.’

  ‘Are you thinking what I’m thinking?’ Rebekah asked quizzically as they retraced their steps to the car.

  ‘Subterfuge and sabotage?’

  ‘Oh, I’d say there’s a very good chance…like one hundred per cent.’

  Ana slid in behind the wheel and slid the key into the ignition. ‘So…what do you think we should do about it?’

  ‘Confrontation, definitely.’

  ‘You, or me?’

  Rebekah’s gaze held a purposeful gleam. ‘Oh, allow me.’

  ‘You will employ subtlety.’

  ‘Like hell. No one plays a game like this one and gets away with it.’

  ‘OK, let’s go home, hit the shower, then go eat.’

  They did, and incurred Petros’s long-suffering expression. ‘I prepared dinner, Ms Dimitriades.’

  ‘Ana,’ she corrected from habit. ‘And I told you at breakfast we’d probably eat out.’

  ‘You didn’t ring and confirm.’

  She’d meant to, she really had. ‘I’m sorry. I hope you didn’t go to a lot of trouble?’

  ‘Apricot chicken with rice, steamed vegetables, and a lemon soufflé.’

  It made pizza eaten alfresco sound positively peasant-style in comparison.

  Ana turned to her sister and arched an eyebrow. ‘Want to eat in, or out? Your choice.’

  ‘Have you had your dinner, Petros?’ Rebekah asked, and the manservant shook his head.

  ‘Not yet. I intended to serve you both first.’

  ‘Then you must eat ours instead. We’re going up to the Cross to get pizza.’

  Petros gave a good imitation of being totally scandalised. ‘King’s Cross?’

  ‘The same.’

  ‘I must urge you very strongly against going there. Luc would not approve.’

  Ana wrinkled her nose at him. ‘Luc isn’t here.’

  ‘He’ll find out.’

  ‘Only if you tell him.’

  ‘It’s really most inadvisable.’

  ‘There are two of us, we’re only going to eat pizza, then drive on to the cinema complex. What can happen?’

  ‘At least let me drive you.’

  ‘We promise not to park in a side-street, and we both have cellphones,’ Ana relayed. ‘Trust me, at the first hint of trouble you’ll be the first person we call.’

  ‘There are any number of places in which to eat pizza. Why the Cross?’

  ‘Because,’ Rebekah said carefully. ‘I have a friend who works there, and he makes the best pizza I’ve ever tasted.’

  P
etros was clearly torn, and Ana almost felt sorry for him. ‘We’ll be fine. I’ll ring when we’re done and on our way to the cinema.’

  ‘Thank you.’

  ‘Anyone,’ Rebekah declared with a touch of exasperation as they cleared the driveway, ‘would think he had adopted a paternal role.’

  ‘He’s answerable to Luc,’ Ana said simply.

  ‘Who is an exceedingly wealthy man.’ She cast her sister a rueful glance. ‘Protective, possessive…or just plain cautious?’

  Possessive? ‘He’s involved in huge money deals.’

  ‘And protective of his pregnant wife.’

  ‘Who is responsible for a Dimitriades heir.’

  ‘That was way too cynical. Why?’

  They reached Rose Bay, and took the circuitous route towards Double Bay. ‘Blame it on hormones and a preoccupation with Celine’s latest contretemps.’

  ‘You think it’s aimed at gaining Luc’s attention?’

  ‘Without doubt.’

  Rebekah pulled up at a set of traffic lights. ‘Luc is a hunk.’

  ‘Thanks.’

  Rebekah laughed, shifted gears, then eased the car forward as the lights went to green. ‘Like, you’re worried?’

  Ana didn’t answer, and Rebekah swore briefly. ‘Dammit, you are worried. Has he given you a reason to be?’

  She hesitated a second too long. ‘Not really.’

  ‘Don’t you trust him?’

  Oh, God. Did she? Completely? ‘I don’t trust Celine.’ Wasn’t that the truth!

  ‘You didn’t answer my question.’

  Rushcutter’s Bay was in the foreground, and any time soon they’d reach the Cross.

  ‘They once shared a relationship.’

  ‘So?’ Rebekah released a sound that was akin to a snort. ‘I was once married to a man, whom if I never see him again, it would be too soon!’

  ‘That doesn’t add up.’

  ‘The hell it doesn’t.’

  The El Alamein fountain came into sight, and Rebekah’s attention became focused on finding a space to park the car. Not easy at the Cross, and Ana was relieved at the distraction.

  At this time of evening with daylight beginning to fade, the main street held a mix of people of various cultures whose mode of attire ranged from the norm to the bizarre.

  Men in fashionable suits, flashing an overindulgence of jewellery, looked a little too slick and polished to be ordinary businessmen. Professionals, certainly, but ordinary…not.

  Then there were the flamboyant types, whose mode of dress bordered on the outrageous, sporting a range of body piercing that almost defied description.

  The pizzeria was situated on the main street, and Rebekah led Ana indoors, greeted the head pizza-maker, then found a table close to the window.

  Oven-fired, delectable, mouth-watering aromas filled the small room, and Ana consulted the menu, Rebekah, then placed an order for a large combination pizza to share.

  Declining wine or coffee, she settled for tea while Rebekah chose strong espresso.

  It was interesting to watch the street scene, to see the people who came to observe and those who came to work. Touts stood in front of doorways outlined in flashing lights, bright neon, cajoling the passersby to come inside and be entertained by strip-shows, nude showgirls.

  As the evening crept on, there would be the pimps, the prostitutes, and a steady parade of vehicles dropping off the girls, picking them up. There was more use per square mile of cellphones at the Cross than anywhere else in the city.

  That was the visible. The invisible was the existence of a darker world, backstreets where drug deals and less than salubrious activities were done.

  Their pizza was served, and after one bite Ana had to agree the taste was out of this world. Ambrosia.

  ‘Has Luc given you reason to distrust him?’

  Rebekah had the tenacity of a terrier unwilling to give up a bone, and Ana closed her eyes in exasperation, then quickly opened them again.

  She shrugged her shoulders in a gesture of eloquent indecision. ‘He flies interstate regularly on business, overseas…New York, London, Paris, Athens. How would I know if anyone joined him there?’

  Rebekah’s expression became thoughtful. ‘Luc cares for you.’

  Ana took another slice of pizza and bit into it.

  ‘If it weren’t for the child—’

  ‘Oh, rubbish. Think about it! He gave you space on the Coast before hauling you home. He could easily have had Dad charged…but he didn’t. He’s given Celine the flick in no uncertain terms.’ She paused for breath. ‘Get real. The man adores you!’ She leaned forward and covered her sister’s hand with her own. ‘Besides, he’s not the type to play around.’

  ‘Easy to say.’

  Rebekah eased back in her chair. ‘I think I’m going to hit you. In fact, I’m darned sure of it!’

  Sisterhood was a wonderful thing. Ana summoned a smile. ‘I’ll return the favour if ever our positions are reversed, and Jace Dimitriades gets the better of you!’

  ‘That’s a favour going wanting,’ Rebekah assured with alacrity.

  It was after eight when they entered the cinema complex, and the movie had a feel-good plot, with light-hearted humour and great acting. They emerged at the end of the session, walked to the car, then drove home to sit sipping hot chocolate as they recounted amusing aspects of the film.

  There was a text message from Luc on Ana’s cellphone, which she chose to ignore. Received while she was in the cinema, it was brief to the point of abruptness.

  If he wanted to speak to her, he could ring again.

  He did, just as she slipped into bed.

  ‘You didn’t return my call.’

  ‘Well, hello to you, too,’ she responded with pseudo-politeness.

  ‘I didn’t wake you?’

  She almost made a facetious reply, then thought better of it. ‘No.’

  ‘I rang earlier. Petros said you were out.’

  ‘Eating pizza at the Cross, then taking in a movie.’

  She could almost feel the silence weighing in from the other end of the line. ‘If that’s a joke, it’s a bad one.’

  ‘Rebekah has a friend who makes the most divine pizza.’

  ‘At the Cross,’ he chided with chilling softness.

  She was beginning to enjoy this. ‘Uh-huh.’

  ‘I trust you won’t be going there again?’

  ‘We might.’

  ‘You’re having fun with this, aren’t you?’

  Her smile was deliciously wicked. ‘Oh, yes.’

  ‘Just remember I’ll be home day after tomorrow,’ Luc declared silkily. ‘Will you be so brave then?’

  ‘Of course. You don’t frighten me in the least.’

  ‘Careful, pedhaki mou.’

  ‘Always. Goodnight.’ She ended the call and switched off the phone.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  ‘DANGER at twenty paces,’ Rebekah warned, sotto voce.

  Ana glanced up and saw Celine bearing down on her. Here we go again, she accorded silently. The witch from Rose Bay.

  ‘I suppose you think you’re clever.’

  ‘Another problem, Celine?’

  The woman’s eyes glittered with anger. ‘What right do you have to check up on your customers?’

  ‘Any complaint regarding delivery is always investigated,’ Ana said smoothly. ‘You accused Blooms and Bouquets of making an error and rescinded payment of your account.’

  ‘That allows you to badger people?’

  There was no doubt this was going to get nasty. ‘Badger, Celine? My sister and I checked both apartment addresses personally. The lady at apartment 7, 5 Wilson Place confirmed she’d received a delivery not meant for her. We were able to ascertain apartment 5, 7 Wilson Place is owned by you.’

  ‘What nonsense. Why would I send flowers to a vacant apartment?’

  ‘Why, indeed?’

  Celine’s features became a study in white fury. ‘Are you accusing me of f
oul play?’

  Ana had had enough. ‘Your words, Celine. Not mine.’

  She didn’t see it coming, and it happened so unexpectedly, so quickly, there was no time for evasive action.

  In one swift movement Celine swept a large glass vase off the counter.

  It knocked against Ana’s arm, sending a shower of water over her thighs, and shattered on impact with the concrete floor, sending shards of glass in all directions.

  What came next was unbelievable, and she gasped out loud as Celine shoved her so hard she lost her balance, skidded on the wet floor, and went down in seemingly slow motion.

  ‘You bitch,’ Rebekah hissed angrily, and Ana registered the sound of a palm connecting with flesh.

  The next instant Rebekah hunkered down, her face pale as she checked for injuries.

  Ana raised stunned eyes, then followed her sister’s gaze. There was glass everywhere, blood streamed from a gash on her arm, another on her leg, her hand where she’d attempted to soften her fall.

  ‘Stay there,’ Rebekah instructed. ‘Don’t move. I’m ringing the ambulance.’

  Oh, dear God…the fall…could she miscarry? No, surely not. It hadn’t been a hard fall. ‘An ambulance is definite overkill. It’s only a few cuts. Get some paper towels, and I’ll clean myself up.’ Initial surprise had begun to wane, and in its place was shocked disbelief.

  ‘Petros, then.’ Rebekah was already dialling, and seconds later she spoke rapidly, then replaced the receiver. ‘He’s leaving immediately. Now, let’s get you into a chair, then I’ll attempt to clean up this mess. But first,’ she said with angry determination, ‘I get to take a photo to use as evidence.’

  ‘You’re kidding me, right?’

  ‘No.’

  It took only brief seconds, then she caught hold of Rebekah’s outstretched hands and stepped gingerly over to the chair. Broken glass crunched beneath her shoes, and she stood still as her sister brushed glass from her clothes.

  ‘Are you OK?’

  It hadn’t been a heavy fall, and she said so. ‘Apart from a few cuts, yes.’

  ‘Sit down, and stay there while I get rid of all this.’ She plucked disposable towelling into sheets and carefully stemmed the flow of blood.