by Corrie, Jane
Kathy took her eyes off the road to look at her. `Something wrong?' she asked.
Sarah lifted an arm and then let it fall on the paper again. 'It's just not my work,' she said, `and strange as it seems, I'm averse to claiming credit that belongs elsewhere. This—' she picked up the paper again, 'why, it's all scientific! It would take a boffin to understand it properly, let alone report on it!'
Kathy grinned. 'Oh, is that all? Well, that's easily explained. It would have been Sean's work,
wouldn't it? I mean, he would have spelled it all out for them. It's not like him, I admit. He's got a thing about the press. It dates back some time. A brilliant professor of his was hounded by them—a meek and mild man, who was on to something, but was unwise enough to presume that certain remarks he had made alluded only to his hopes, and not to certainty. It was blazoned in all the papers, and would have been fine if later experiments hadn't proved the contrary, and he was made to look an honour-chasing sensation-hunter. Sadly, he became a recluse after that. One has to be so careful, you see,' she ended.
There was silence while Sarah considered this news, her eyes now on the busy highway. It helped to explain some of Sean Cartier's prejudice, but not all.
`Of course,' Kathy went on, as she skilfully overtook a heavy goods wagon, 'I shouldn't be surprised if it hadn't been Sean's idea to give the credit to you, either. He's not very good at apologising, in case you hadn't noticed,' she added with a grin at Sarah.
`I see—' Sarah said darkly, and now that it had been put to her, she did see. It would be typical of him. She was to be sent back with a feather in her cap. He had been so sure that she would grab the opportunity of revelling in the glory such a report would bring her.
She swallowed, Thank you for nothing, Sean Cartier! she thought furiously. I want no handouts from you. Now, or any time in the future, thank you very much!
The miles went by, and by signposts on the
way Sarah saw that they were on the Stuart Highway. She tried to keep up a flow of small talk with Kathy, but found it hard going, and sensing her mood, Kathy concentrated on her driving.
She had been so full of plans for what she would do once she had got free of that despicable man's domination that it now came as a shock to her that all she wanted was to spend some time on her own. It was amazing really, considering how much time she had had to spend whiling away the hours in the camp, longing for just this chance to get back to civilisation, but now that it had actually arrived she felt lost and uncertain of herself.
It would be all right once she was back in familiar surroundings, she told herself stoutly. It was not surprising that she should feel this way. For years she had been mistress of her own fate, pleasing herself what she did, accepting or rejecting the numerous invitations that came he! way, but never getting involved emotionally. She had become adept at handling any situation that looked like getting out of hand, and would simply not be available the next time a certain individual called.
Her flatmates had once called her the 'Ice Maiden' and were of the opinion that she had no heart, since it was they who would eventually have to hand out various excuses to the extra persistent male. In spite of all this, their friendship was strong, and Sarah wondered if she still had a room in the flat. It was true that she often went off for long periods chasing a story,
but never this long, and if someone had got her room there was the question of her things.
She sighed. They would have seen the paper, of course, and that would have explained where she had been for the past five weeks; even so, it meant some explaining on her part, and she didn't feel up to it right now.
Kathy glanced across at her. 'We'll stop at Adelaide River for a break,' she said. 'We ought to be able to get some lunch at the motel there.'
Sarah nodded abstractedly, but her mind was still on her worries.
Adelaide River was a small community in pleasant country surroundings, and as Kathy had surmised, they were able to get lunch at the small motel.
While they waited for their salad to be served in the bright dining area, Kathy, taking due note of Sarah's preoccupation, asked quietly, 'Problems?'
Sarah's eyes left the red and white checked cloth on the table and met Kathy's sympathetic brown ones, and Sarah thought how different she was from her brother, although there was some facial likeness between them. She took a deep breath. 'Five weeks is a long time,' she said. 'I did have lodgings with some friends of mine. It just means a lot of explaining—' she ended lamely.
Kathy blinked. 'As long as that?' she exclaimed. `Good gracious! No wonder you're worried. Er—anyone special?' she asked.
Sarah got the meaning, and shook her head. `Not in that sense,' she replied, then took another
deep breath. 'Take no notice of me,' she added firmly. 'I'm just a bit disorientated, that's all. I'll be all right once I'm back.'
`And no wonder!' Kathy said indignantly. 'I know my brother, and he's not the most admirable of hosts, and he's got this thing about the press. It must have been rotten for you.'
This produced a wry smile from Sarah. 'I wasn't exactly given the red carpet treatment,' she commented dryly.
After a leisurely lunch, they were on their way again, and within an hour and a half were entering Darwin and heading for the airport.
By late evening Sarah found herself installed at Kathy's home in Rose Bay on the outskirts of Sydney. She had been no match for Kathy's determined bid to take her home, in order, as she had put it, 'to get herself acclimatised', and as she had sensibly pointed out, it was too late an hour to go wandering the city streets, not certain if she had a bed waiting for her or not.
All that could be seen to in the morning, Kathy had stated firmly, and in the meantime, she would be glad of Sarah's company as Luke was not due to return from Newcastle until late the following day.
By the time Sarah had finished breakfast the next day, she had to admit that Kathy's sensible persuasion to take her time before announcing her arrival back in Sydney had been a good one. She now felt refreshed, and more able to cope with all the small problems that she had landed herself with the day before.
All that, she told herself cheerfully, could be
easily overcome. Whether she liked it or not, she was in the news again in a big way, and all she had to do was to present herself back at the news desk and go on from there. She would, she mused, as she drank her coffee, stand by her earlier plans where her fictional engagement to Sean Cartier was concerned. She would simply tell Eddie that it had all been a mistake, and could she now get back to work.
Firstly, she would have to pay a visit to the flat. Viola worked in an office just down the street from the flat, and she would have to pop in there to announce her arrival and see if she still had her room, and if not, where her things were.
When Sarah announced her plans to Kathy, she offered to take her into the city, and Sarah gratefully accepted, considering that Kathy was going there anyway some time that day to collect provisions.
It was strange being back in her old haunts, and strange was the word, for Sarah experienced none of the expected lifts of joy as the car swept down old familiar streets, eventually stopping as near as possible to the General Post Office in Martin Place, that Sarah had asked to be dropped at, as it was only a short walk from there to Viola's office and the flat.
After promising to ring Kathy that evening and let her know how she had got on, Sarah was on her own for the first time in all those weeks, and that did give her a lift. Her head came up and chin went out, as she made her way to Viola's office.
She might only have been gone a couple of
days by the casual, 'Hi!' and grin from Viola, when Sarah walked into Reception. `So you're back at last, and quite famous, too,' she went on chattily.
This, thought Sarah, was only the start of it, and it caused her some annoyance. She hadn't earned these tributes, and couldn't deny them either, without going into things that she wanted to forget. 'Is my room still ava
ilable?' she asked. `I'm afraid I wasn't able to contact you—'
Viola blinked at her. 'Of course it's still your room. You're getting forgetful in your old age,' she commented teasingly. 'You sent the rent, remember? Enough to cover two months. With all that excitement I suppose it went out of your mind,' she added kindly. 'Who's the boy-friend?' she asked.
It was Sarah's turn to blink. 'Boy-friend?' she repeated bewilderedly.
`Oh, come off it!' Viola said indignantly. 'That gorgeous specimen who called on us last night and told us you'd be back today.'
`If he's who I think he is, then he's certainly not my boy-friend,' Sarah replied crossly. There was only one person that could have been, and it somewhat dismayed her to learn that he was in Sydney. She had thought Canberra was the place he would have been summoned to.
Viola gave her a pitying look. 'I think you'll find that he's got other ideas. Margaret and I felt that he was giving us the once over. You know the sort of thing—were we fit company for his woman. Not that we minded, mind you, and we only wished he'd stayed longer.'
Sarah was only too happy to escape from Viola's garrulous wanderings and get to the flat. One part of her leaped for joy, and the other, the sensible side of her, reasoned that it was just the sort of thing Sean would have done. It had been entirely his fault that she had been denied her freedom, and he had probably got an eye on the future, because she could still make things difficult for him should anything come out.
As she let herself into her room and surveyed her familiar belongings, she felt an unaccountable desire to weep her heart out. She hated Sean for what he had done to her. She had been so comfortable before. All she had ever wanted was her work, nothing else had mattered to her.
She gave a ragged sob. He had only to lift his little finger and she would have rushed into his arms. She didn't care about her job any more, the only thing that mattered was that she should be with him until the end of time.
Why couldn't he have left her alone? Hadn't he done enough damage? She caught her breath. Apparently not, if he had taken the trouble to visit the flat. And it hadn't been her who had sent that rent money, either. He must have got her address from Eddie on some excuse or other.
This thought reminded her that she had still to make her visit to the paper, and it depressed her even more, but it had to be done.
She made a determined effort to pull herself together, and changing into a light cotton dress and dashing cold water over her eyelids, she combed her hair, then surveyed the result in her mirror.
As far as she could see, she was the same
person who had left her room all that time ago on an assignment. Outwardly, there was no difference; inwardly—she grabbed her shoulder bag and was out of the flat and on her way to the Daily's offices before she allowed herself to wallow further into the depths of misery.
It was the same as she had remembered, which was somehow surprising to her altered state of mind. Typewriters clacked in the news room, telephones rang, and the frenzied activity that was always present hit Sarah with a discordancy that shook her. Once she had belonged to this world; now she felt an alien.
Someone spotted her on the way to Eddie's office, and shouted a welcome, but Sarah after giving a wave of the hand in acknowledgement, resolutely marched on to the editor's office.
Eddie was on the phone when she walked in, but after giving her a surprised but welcoming grin, he waved an airy hand towards a chair, ended his conversation, then sat back surveying her. 'Who's a clever girl, then?' he said teasingly. Not only comes up with the scoop of the year, but lands the famous boffin at her feet.'
Sarah felt like hitting him with his Out Tray, but managed to quell this unkind thought. They had all been taken for a ride by that 'famous boffin', and it was about time a few facts were aired. 'I haven't got the famous boffin at my feet,' she declared between her teeth, 'and what's more, if I had, I'd kick him!' she added ferociously.
Eddie's eyes showed his amusement, which annoyed her even more. 'I take it there's been a slight hitch?' he said mildly.
`It's more in the line of a volcanic eruption,' Sarah said darkly. 'Look, you know I didn't write that story. Why did you give me the credit?' she demanded.
Eddie's plump features sobered and he looked at her over the top of his spectacles. 'You were on the spot, weren't you?' he said comfortably. `Besides, if the big man boss hadn't taken such a shine to you, we wouldn't have been the first with the news, would we?' he pointed out reasonably, then added hastily, 'By the way, your man's at the Civic Hall today, and it's the last chance he's giving the press to interview him. After that, I gather he intends to retire back into obscurity.'
Sarah's eyes went to the In Tray. It was heavier than the Out Tray. 'He's not my man!' she ground out furiously. 'And as for retiring back into obscurity, the sooner that happens the better, as far as I'm concerned,' she declared fervently. Eddie sorted vaguely through the papers in front of him. 'Then you don't want to cover it, I gather?' he said mildly.
So he'd got there at last! Sarah thought, as she replied, 'No. Have you anything else for me?' she added hopefully.
Eddie studied her thoughtfully over the top of his glasses. 'Well, everything else is covered,' he said carefully. 'Now look here, Sarah, you go back to the flat until things are sorted out. I wasn't counting on your coming back, you see. Cartier sounded pretty definite as far as your future was concerned, and—well, he's not the type to play around, is he?'
Sarah's eyes widened as she caught the drift of his thoughts. 'Are you telling me I haven't got a job here now?' she demanded.
Now look here,' Eddie said quietly. 'See it from my point of view. I don't want to lose you, or rather I didn't want to lose you, but I know it's just one of those things. One minute you're on the staff, the next, you're whisked off the job by a determined male who doesn't believe in working wives.' He shrugged his plump shoulders. `If what you say is right and you have finished with Cartier, then come back and see me in a fortnight's time, and we'll discuss terms.' He fished in a drawer and drew out an envelope. `There's two months' pay there, plus a small token of gratitude from the big chief.' He gave her a grin. 'Either way, you're covered,' he said. `All I want is the proof that Cartier is out of the picture where your future's concerned,' he added kindly. 'Miss Dalway's retiring at the end of the month, and I'll be looking for another features editor on the women's page,' he tacked on meaningly.
Sarah wanted to throw the envelope back at him, but had to concede miserably that he had been more than fair with her. The fact that he didn't know the real reason why Sean Cartier had formed a sudden attachment to her, made things all the harder to bear, and for a moment she was tempted to reveal all, but at that precise moment the phone rang on Eddie's desk, and he was soon immersed in the daily routine once more, dismissing her with a wave of the hand.
As Sarah made her way back to the flat, she
recalled her earlier thoughts on how things would go when she presented herself back at the newsroom. Not once had she imagined herself being unable to convince Eddie that the fictitious engagement was over. People got engaged every day of the week, didn't they, and got unengaged just as fast. What was so very different with her? Why shouldn't Eddie have accepted her story?
There was, she told herself bitterly, as she let herself into her room in the flat, a very simple answer. Sean Cartier! Not the type to play around, was what Eddie had said.
She threw her shoulder bag on the bed. The wretched man had them all mesmerised. She sat down wearily on the bed. Well, he'd wanted to put a stop to her career, and he had very nearly succeeded, only not quite, she thought, as she recalled Eddie's hint of a job in features.
Sarah took a deep breath. It was the only high spot in what would otherwise be a dismal future. She shook her head. What on earth was wrong with her? Features editor was a plum job, and Eddie must have thought she was capable of managing it if he had bothered to mention it to her. He was not given to vague meanderings on any s
ubject. So in point of fact, she told herself, cheering up somewhat at the thought, the job was as good as hers.
In a very short time Eddie would have all the proof he required concerning her future where Sean Cartier was concerned. Within a day or so he would be heading back to the homestead, for Sarah was certain that that was where he would be going. As Kathy had said, the place was ideal as a haven from publicity.
Thinking of Kathy reminded Sarah of her promise to ring her, and as it was now almost lunchtime, she thought it was likely that she was now back at her home, and fishing out her address book for the number, she gave her a call.
After being assured by Sarah that all was well, Kathy said, 'Sean's coming to dinner this evening, Luke should be back by then. It ought to be a nice family evening, we don't see that much of Sean these days, and I was a bit put out when he said he was bringing someone with him. I've no idea who. I just hope it isn't one of those professor friends of his, or the whole evening will be spent in talk way above my head—Luke's too, come to that. On the other hand, it could be Pauline, although I sincerely hope not. She rang me a little while ago, so I know she's in Sydney—for obvious reasons, I'm afraid.'
Sarah listened politely, and after promising to ring Kathy now and again to keep in touch, rang off.
She wished Pauline all the luck in the world in landing her man. She certainly deserved some success for perseverence, she thought dryly, and wouldn't it be wonderful if their engagement could be announced before they left Sydney, because she couldn't have any better proof than that to show Eddie!
CHAPTER TEN
SARAH went to the small Italian restaurant that
she and the other girls had patronised since
moving into the flat, as it was only a street away.
Mario, the short stocky proprietor of the restaurant, welcomed her as a long-lost friend, and deferentially showed her to a table near the window.
