Silver Lining

by Diana Simmonds

  “It came out of her daily rounds as a columnist; she started to figure out that most finance types didn’t have a clue, or if they did, they weren’t admitting it.”

  “It’s an amazing book,” Amanda said quietly and watched Malcolm’s eyebrows rise. “I can see why she was so unpopular with the banking industry. I remember when it was first published, there was such a shit fight in the Journal about it. I didn’t bother then but I recall all of Wall Street saying the writer was a traitor and should be pelted with rotten tomatoes.”

  Malcolm grinned. “Yeah, Clancy was interviewed on one of those late night cable shows and if it hadn’t been by satellite I think she’d have been lynched.”

  Amanda nodded. “Are you surprised? What she wrote then was unbelievable. Everyone on Wall Street said ‘crap’!”

  “They would, wouldn’t they? She got one helluva caning from economists and otherwise she was pretty well laughed at. But it did sell.”

  Amanda frowned. “Everyone was talking about it at eFrères. Well,” she grimaced, “more like sneering about it. But the name never clicked when you first told me it was Clancy’s book.”

  Malcolm nodded. “C.N. Darrow—she used her married name as a journalist.”

  Again Amanda’s mouth fell open and her eyes widened. “Married! But I thought…”

  Malcolm laughed. “A long time ago. They were divorced when she was about thirty. That’s when she really worked out she’s gay. An affair with a married woman will do it every time.”

  * * *

  Amanda sat back in her seat, barely aware that Malcolm was watching her, a big grin on his face. She felt embarrassment and something like a snaky little whisper of shame as she considered how little she knew, how few questions she asked and—if she were to be brutally honest with herself—what a self-centered bitch she really was.

  “I wouldn’t say that,” Malcolm said gently and Amanda realized she had spoken aloud. “You’re not that bad.”

  His grin widened again and she laughed uncertainly and grabbed for his hand. “I’m sorry, Malcolm,” she said, not quite able to look him in the eyes.

  Malcolm chuckled and patted her hand. “You two are going to get along just fine. You wait and see.”

  “And now she’s running a dairy farm too?”

  “Sort of. But I need to do my share now. And I need to get involved with Two Moon Bay. It’s my little hometown and it’s dying in the bum right now.”

  Amanda took his hands in both hers and examined them. The fingers were ringless, chunky and strong, but there was not a callus to be found on either palm. “I don’t see these as milker’s hands,” she said.

  “There are machines for that.” Malcolm laughed. “And there’s the manager, she kept him on. Clancy doesn’t know enough about the nuts and bolts of dairy farming.” He sighed. “And neither do I.”

  After a moment’s reflection on everything she had just learned, Amanda said, “Wow. I can’t believe I never knew any of this.”

  Malcolm smiled indulgently. “There are a lot of things you Mistresses of the Universe don’t realize, my sweet. Welcome to the real world. And you’ll have to read her next book, won’t you?”

  Again Amanda was surprised. “Wow, what’s it about this time? Is it out yet?”

  Malcolm shrugged. “Definitely not a follow-up to Gone South. I think it’s a novel. But she’s not saying. I’m going to shut my eyes now, kiddo, wake me when we get there, hey?”

  And Amanda retired companionably into a magazine and staring out the train windows as her friends snored quietly and the train click-clacked north into Connecticut.

  The quiet weekend with her mother and two friends was bittersweet as it dawned on Amanda that it might be the last for some while. And it seemed inevitable that the conversation, over dinner on Saturday night, would turn to Clancy. Amanda was sitting at the foot of the long dining table, with Eleanor in her customary place at its head, her silver-blond hair gleaming in the glow of six tall red candles. They burned steadily in the battered pewter candelabra that had formed the table’s centerpiece for as long as Amanda could recall. The light on her mother’s face was beautiful. On Eleanor’s left and right sat Malcolm and Ted, both men attentive to their hostess and she basked in the pleasure of their company. Laughter and good conversation sparkled around the table as they ate and drank their leisurely way through three traditional courses and four bottles of excellent wine. It made Amanda feel simultaneously happy and sad to distantly watch and listen as she stroked Thomas Cat’s head. The Maine coon lay illicitly in her lap, his bulk hidden by a starched white damask napkin, but he was purring so loudly Amanda felt sure they would be found out sooner or later. But before that could happen she came back to full attention when Clancy’s name dropped into the conversation.

  “It would be wonderful to have Clancy visit again,” Eleanor was saying. “We had the loveliest weekend when she was here. Didn’t we, Amanda.”

  Malcolm’s eyebrow rose in his friend’s direction; Amanda ignored him and looked deep into the swirling ruby red wine in her glass.

  “Clancy was the perfect houseguest and if only I can be half as charming, you’ll sleep easy while I’m in Australia,” she said to her mother.

  “Amanda Charlotte, I do believe you’re being snaky,” Eleanor said, and peered around the candelabra stem to get a better look at her daughter.

  “Well, all I ever hear is Clancy this and Clancy that and Clancy, Clancy, Clancy and I’m sure she walks on water unaided and is really kind to lost dogs and unwanted kittens, but can we just…” Amanda stopped in the middle of her rant as she noticed three pairs of wide eyes, staring at her with ill-concealed amusement. “Oh, stop it!” She banged her wineglass down on its silver coaster to emphasize her demand. Instead Malcolm, Ted and Eleanor looked at each other with raised eyebrows and one by one, began to snigger until they were chortling and rocking back and forth in their seats.

  “Methinks the lady doth protest too much,” said Ted in his best Laurence Olivier voice.

  “Shut up,” Amanda said. “All of you. I hate you.”

  Chapter Nine

  The 747 turned in a vast, lazy circle giving Amanda a curved horizon-wide view of endless blue-green, tree-clad mountains, misty purple mysterious gorges and almost no sign of human habitation other than an occasional meandering track and the glint of sun on a solitary metal roof.

  “That’s the Blue Mountains and the country beyond is Kanangra Boyd,” Malcolm said over her shoulder. “We’ve turned south and we’re circling back round to the east and the coast, so we’ll turn north and come up to Sydney that way. You’re a lucky girl, you’re going to see everything.”

  “It’s beautiful,” Amanda said quietly, awed by the immensity of the wilderness far below. “I had no idea it would be like this. It goes on forever.” She craned her neck to look toward the blue haze of the western horizon. “I thought Australia was all desert, but this is forest and it’s totally uninhabited. It’s amazing.”

  “And four and a half million people live just over there.” Malcolm pointed ahead of the plane. “But you’re right, there’s virtually nobody down there and there aren’t any roads, just a few fire trails and access tracks for the water catchment people.”

  “Wow,” Amanda said and sat back in her seat. “So what happens when we land?”

  “After we discover our bags have gone to Dubai?”

  “Ha, don’t forget I have my essentials up there.” Amanda pointed above her head. “It makes me feel very smug, I don’t know why I’ve never done it before.”

  “Grasping the concept of traveling light is harder than quantum physics, that’s why,” Malcolm said and lay back in his seat, shut his eyes and sighed happily.

  Amanda examined his face. The lines on either side of his mouth had softened and the almost perpetual frown creases were also fainter; he looked almost boyish.

  “You pleased to be coming home?”

  His eyes opened straight into hers a
nd he grinned and stretched. “Actually, yes I am. I doubted I’d ever feel like this but…” He paused to consider his next words. “I really do feel as if I am ‘coming home’ and it’s good. Sort of scary and exciting, but good.”

  “I’m glad—for you.” Amanda smiled down at him and stroked the golden hairs on the back of his hand with gentle affection. “But, tell me, what’s the plan? Somewhere in the middle of the Pacific while you were snoring…”

  “I was not!”

  “While you were snoring,” she went on firmly, “I realized I’ve been a passenger in more ways than one. I have no idea what we’re doing, when or where.”

  “Well,” he began deliberately. “I hope you’re not going to be disappointed, but we’re not staying in Sydney this time around. I really want to get home and check out how things are. You can settle in and get your bearings. Then I thought we could come back up to the city in a couple of weeks and show you the sights and party a bit. How’s that?”

  “Fine, but how do we get to Two Moon Bay?”

  “We’re being met,” he said enigmatically and Amanda’s stomach turned a somersault as she intuited what he meant. But before she could ask another question he pointed to the window. “Now, concentrate will you—we’re circling up the harbor and you’ll get a look at the Opera House and the Bridge, so you can tell your mum.”

  Amanda fumbled for her iPhone. “I’ll do better than that,” she said and peered out the window at the vista below. “Wow!” She murmured, “it really is gorgeous. Look at that! All those little bays and boats, and all those houses. My God, everyone must have a boat and harbor views!”

  “That’s the ambition,” Malcolm laughed, peering over her shoulder. “Look—down there. Recognize it?”

  And Amanda did, immediately. The curved white, segmented structure of the Sydney Opera House shone in the bright easterly sun and was as familiar to her as the Empire State Building. Around its base the ocean was glittering cobalt into which ferryboats slit sparkling white wakes as they hurried back and forth. Amanda placed the phone flat on the plane’s window and aimed at the absurdly pretty building. “I’ll send this to Mom when we land to prove I’m here.” She pressed and clicked; aimed again then dropped the phone in her lap and stared out the window. The glittering towers of the city’s business hub were flanked by emerald green parkland on one side and on the other, shimmering water kept them from marching into the bay from where the matchbox-size ferries came and went.

  “There’s the Harbor Bridge, wow, this is amazing. You weren’t kidding.”

  Malcolm laughed over her shoulder. “It’s pretty good, isn’t it? ’Specially from up here.”

  The aircraft banked again in its cruising descent and then they were over seemingly endless suburbs. Amanda turned back to Malcolm and narrowed her eyes.

  “Okay, so I’ve noticed you still haven’t told me how we’re getting to Two Moon Bay.”

  “Clancy is meeting us.”

  “Oh shit.” Confirmation of her suspicion did nothing to settle her stomach, or her suddenly racing heart.

  * * *

  Amanda’s first hour on Australian soil was a series of surprises. First, there was the weird sensation of standing up and walking on solid ground again after twenty-something hours in the sky. Then there was the unlikely early morning cacophony of the crowded terminal as hundreds of passengers from half a dozen intercontinental jets all made for the exits in a bleary-eyed stampede. Next, she queued up to stand in front of a cute Immigration official who displayed a sumptuous cleavage despite her uniform shirt and who checked the passport photo, checked out Amanda, grinned, and said in a broad Aussie accent, “Welcome to Australia,” somehow managing to charge the simple words with promise. To her chagrin, Amanda had to make a supreme effort not to run her fingers through what she knew must be unkempt and frazzled hair and instead, smiling idiotically, said, “Why thank you, ma’am.”

  She was rewarded with a flashing smile and wink. For a moment she goggled, then the officer waved her on. Her next encounter with Aussie officialdom was a Customs officer with a terse mustache who asked whether she was carrying any fruit. Then she was waiting for Malcolm before the final walk to freedom and an even greater hullabaloo of excited meeters and greeters and dozens of bobbing pink and silver helium-filled balloons and squealing small children.

  Malcolm surveyed the throng that, to a dazed Amanda, was an impenetrable mass of anonymous but obviously happy humanity.

  “We are being met?” she asked, realizing yet again that she was still being a helpless passenger.

  “Clancy said she’d be here,” Malcolm muttered as he continued scanning the crowd.

  “Why are you only telling me this now?”

  Malcolm smiled at her and shrugged. “I thought it would be better for you and Clancy to sort of start again and be friends this time and for you not to fret about it on the plane. Anyway, you’ve never been very curious so I figured if you didn’t ask, I wouldn’t say.”

  Amanda’s mouth fell open and she reeled back as if she’d been slapped. “That’s not…” But she stopped. The recognition had instantly entered her mind: He’s right. I’ve never asked anything serious; only stupid jokey questions about koalas. I really am awful.

  Malcolm was still smiling at her. “You’re just a self-absorbed New Yorker whose career has always taken precedence over everything.”

  Amanda stared at him, eyes and mouth wide open. “So why do you like me? Why am I here?”

  “Because you’re funny, smart and lovable. And your mother is a goddess, so you’re going to be a goddess too one day. Just as long as you don’t go back to high finance.” He turned away and scoped the crowds as more incoming travelers trundled their wheelie bags past them.

  Amanda closed her mouth, and then opened it again as a startling thought popped into her head. “Did you actually plan this trip with my mother?”

  “Sort of, but not really. Well, okay, yes we did. Ah, there she is.” Malcolm stuck his hand in the air and let out a deafening whoop that sounded like “Coo-ee!” An arm waving at the back of the scrum and another “Coo-ee!” answered him.

  Malcolm set off, pushing his way between baggage trolleys, stacks of bags, embracing, weeping, laughing families and bobbing shiny balloons. Amanda struggled to follow him, terrified lest she lose him in the melee. Her mind was a maelstrom of new impressions, new emotions and new information, she felt even more dazed than before. This morning was about to turn into yet another Clancy nightmare.

  “So. The cause of the global financial crisis has finally arrived.” The familiar voice cut through the general hubbub and sent a shivering shock down Amanda’s spine. The voice was light and dark, honeyed and sharp, burred and clear; and twangier than Amanda remembered. But she did clearly remember the mass of burnished gold hair, the angular cheekbones sprinkled with freckles, the firm jaw and chin. And this time gray-blue eyes twinkled in cahoots with the well-defined, smiling mouth that Amanda recalled in circumstances that sent an immediate red-hot shock coursing through her veins. Her heart rate instantly speeded up. Clancy’s widening grin told Amanda that she was staring and she shut her mouth to stop herself gaping like a goldfish. She tried to speak but the barest croak came out, so instead she stuck out her hand.

  The grin widened and Clancy took Amanda’s hand and gave it a firm one-two shake, then she leaned forward to lay a soft kiss on both cheeks. “Welcome to Australia,” she said, and after a moment’s pause for Amanda’s response, went on helpfully, “Did you have an okay flight?”

  Amanda nodded and glanced down at her hand to see whether the tingling sensation in her fingers was visible.

  “I have washed my hands this morning,” said Clancy reassuringly, but there was the tiniest edge to her tone. Then before Amanda could articulate the thought that, No, no, it’s just that you’ve set my hand on fire—Clancy turned away to envelop her brother in a mighty hug. Amanda let out a long breath. She didn’t think she could survive another
bout of embarrassment just yet. She watched the two siblings rocking each other in a mutual bear hug and felt a stab of envy for the obvious affection and warmth between them. She couldn’t recall ever having a tender feeling or loving embrace with Andrew. Her nose wrinkled involuntarily at the thought of him. She settled her bag strap more comfortably on her shoulder and examined Clancy in her own environment.

  Aviator RayBans were pushed up into the burnished blond hair that was a little longer than before and again tucked behind the neat, pearl-decorated ears. She was dressed in khaki cargo pants and a pale blue denim shirt with a frayed collar and sleeves rolled up to her elbows; on her feet were grubby old sneakers, no socks. Her forearms were freckled and lightly tanned, the color natural and outdoorsy. Maybe she plays some kind of sport—tennis maybe, or golf, Amanda thought. Or maybe it was just chasing after dairy cows all day. Whatever, for a woman of forty-one Clancy was on the scalding side of hot.

  Clancy released herself from Malcolm’s embrace and turned back to Amanda once more. In place of the fine chain and pearl that Amanda remembered, Clancy’s throat gleamed with a much heavier and more ornate gold chain; it still managed to nestle into her cleavage in a way that was hard to look away from. She glanced down at Clancy’s hands, which were conveniently placed on her hips with strong fingers elegantly splayed. She still wore only one ring: a small gold signet on the little finger of her left hand. Clancy was very disconcerting.

  Instantly taking in Amanda’s stare but again misconstruing it, Clancy said, “And the clothes are clean too, if not exactly Rodeo Drive,” and her voice lilted with the same sharp amusement that twinkled in her eyes. “Altogether let me tell you I made a big effort to get here on time to meet you two.”

  This time Amanda could do nothing about the flaming blush that rose from her throat to her cheeks. But she at least found her voice.