Hal stared down at the ground. Sam watched him, barely breathing.
He looked up again and met her eyes. ‘I don’t know what it is, Sam. I just have the feeling that if we don’t give this a chance, we’ll both end up regretting it.’
What did he just say?
‘You tell me you don’t feel the same way,’ Hal continued quietly, ‘and that’ll be the end of it.’ He paused, watching her. ‘But think before you speak for once, would you?’
No fear of that. Sam couldn’t speak right now even if she wanted to. Her heart was pounding against her ribcage and she felt as though she could quite possibly throw up.
‘Well?’ Hal said after a while.
Sam swallowed. ‘I can’t say that,’ she croaked.
He looked confused. ‘I’m sorry?’
She took a deep breath. ‘I can’t say that I don’t feel the same way.’
He regarded her curiously. ‘That double negative cancels itself out, doesn’t it?’
She shrugged.
‘So you can say you feel the same way I do?’
She nodded shyly.
His shoulders visibly relaxed and he breathed out heavily. ‘Okay then,’ he said, the relief apparent in his voice. ‘So, I’ll be back sometime around the middle of January,’ he continued calmly. ‘Sometimes people go away, Sam, and they come back.’
She looked up at him and he held her gaze, steady and unblinking.
‘I have something for you.’ He reached into the pocket of his jacket and pulled out a small, flat gift box, about the size of a pack of cards. He went to hand it to her but her arms were full.
‘Here,’ he said. ‘Give me some of that.’
Hal took Zoey and the sunhat and Ellie’s bag. Sam put her briefcase down beside her and opened the lid of the box. She frowned as she drew out a set of keys. They had a large label attached to them. ‘“Fourteen Marine Drive, Palm Beach,”’ she read. ‘I don’t understand?’
‘It’s yours. Well, for January anyway.’
Sam was mystified.
‘Call it a Christmas present. For you and the kids.’ He paused. ‘You said you’d like to lie on a beach for a month sometime.’
She looked up at him, her eyes wide. ‘You did this for me?’
‘Not exactly,’ he shrugged. ‘I booked it, well, some time ago, not realising of course that I would be away. For a while. A short while,’ he emphasised. ‘But it would be a waste to have it sitting there empty till then.’
Sam fingered the keys, still stunned. ‘I don’t know what to say.’
‘Say that you’ll think fondly of me while I’m away and be glad to see me when I get back.’ Hal was looking intently at her. ‘And then maybe we can work out what happens after that,’ he added quietly.
Sam felt her face go hot. ‘Okay,’ she swallowed.
She noticed a smile in his eyes as he nodded faintly. ‘Good. That’s settled then.’
‘When are you leaving?’ she asked.
He indicated the taxi. ‘I’m on my way to the airport now.’
‘Let me take you –’
‘No, it’s okay. I didn’t mean to hold you up, you were on your way out.’
‘I only have to take Ellie to pre-school, then I have a meeting later.’
He seemed uncertain.
‘Come on,’ she cajoled. ‘This is one of those things I really should be doing for you.’ She didn’t want to say goodbye like this, in a rush, her stomach all twisted in knots. ‘Please?’
He grinned down at her. ‘Well, you don’t have to beg.’
He paid off the taxi driver and transferred his bags into the boot of Sam’s car. Ellie started up her chatter as soon as he climbed in the front seat. Where was he going? Why? For how long? Children were lucky. It was alright for them to be blunt and, well, just plain nosy. They didn’t have to disguise their curiosity in veiled, roundabout questions.
‘What would you like me to bring you back?’ Hal was asking her.
‘You don’t have to do that, Hal,’ Sam said, but they both ignored her.
‘I’d like, um . . . a present!’ she exclaimed.
‘Okay,’ he laughed. ‘A present it is.’
When they arrived at Ellie’s pre-school, Sam glanced at Hal. ‘This’ll only take a minute. Say goodbye to Hal, Ellie.’
Ellie appeared in the gap between the front seats, clutching her zebra. ‘Can you take Zoey with you?’
‘Ellie, Hal can’t take a stuffed zebra all the way to America with him!’ Sam chided.
‘But Zoey’s never been to ’merica.’
‘Won’t you miss Zoey if I take her, Ellie?’ Hal asked her.
She looked at him seriously. ‘Yes, but I know you’ll look after her. And as soon as you get home, you’ll bring her straight around to our place, won’t you, Hal?’
How did she get so cunning? She was only five, for godsakes.
‘I’ll take her,’ said Hal as Sam went to protest. ‘She’ll be good company.’
Ellie beamed as she reached around to hug him. ‘Be good Zoey!’ she said, thrusting the zebra into his arms. ‘Bye bye, Hal!’
Sam took Ellie inside and returned to the car a few minutes later. ‘What time is your flight?’ she asked Hal.
‘Eleven o’clock.’
She checked her watch. It was going to be tight. She pulled out from the kerb, mentally working out the best route at this time of the day. And what on earth she was going to say to him as they drove along. How were they supposed to make light conversation after what had just passed between them?
Sam wished Ellie was still in the car. She’d been a good buffer. Maybe light conversation was exactly what was needed. It was probably all Sam was capable of at the moment anyway.
‘Will you spend Christmas with your family?’ she asked.
He shrugged. ‘Portia’s not really a Christmas kind of person. She calls it the Festival of the God of Consumerism. She usually boycotts it.’
‘That’s not a bad idea,’ Sam muttered.
‘Besides, she’s on the other side of the country, I don’t know that I’ll get the chance to see her. Maybe I’ll stop over on my way back.’ He glanced at Sam. ‘You’ll have a busy Christmas, I guess, with the kids and all.’
‘Mm.’ Now Sam wanted to talk about something else. Anything else. ‘I have a job interview the day after tomorrow,’ she chirped.
‘No kidding? What kind of job?’
‘Well, the company does event management, conferences, that kind of thing,’ she explained.
Hal smiled broadly. ‘Way to go, Sam. Sounds perfect for you.’
She shrugged. ‘But it’s only an interview. Well, it’s not really a proper interview, I don’t even know if there’s an actual job. And I don’t have any experience. And I’m a bit old, they probably want someone much younger. With training.’
‘Don’t worry, that positive attitude you’ve got going will make up for all that,’ Hal said drily.
She glanced across at him. He was watching her, he seemed thoughtful.
‘Don’t sell yourself short, Samantha Jean,’ he said in a quiet voice. ‘You have absolutely no reason to.’
Hal believed in her. Ted Dempsey obviously believed in her. Maxine and Alex believed in her. Maybe it was about time she started believing in herself.
‘Okay,’ she said softly.
As they approached the airport, Sam offered to park the car and come into the terminal. But Hal insisted she just drop him off outside.
‘I can check myself in,’ he assured her.
She followed the signs to the two-minute dropoff zone. What could she say in only two minutes? Bugger all. Sam’s thoughts raced as she tried to think of a dazzling parting remark, something Hal would remember. Something that would make him think fondly of her as well.
She stopped the car and turned off the engine.
‘No need –’ Hal started to say as Sam jumped out. He climbed out of his seat and looked at her across the roof of the car.
‘– for you to get out,’ he finished.
Sam shrugged and walked back to open the boot. Hal joined her, still holding Zoey.
‘Oh, here, let me take that,’ said Sam. ‘I’ll hide it until you come back.’
‘No,’ he resisted. ‘A promise is a promise.’
Sam frowned at him. ‘You’re actually going to take a stuffed zebra halfway across the world on a business trip?’
Hal was unzipping his suitcase. He flipped it open and began rearranging the contents of his bag to accommodate Zoey.
‘Hal, you can’t –’
‘I told Ellie I would take Zoey with me,’ he said over the top of her protests. He pushed the lid of his suitcase down firmly and zipped it closed again, looking directly at Sam. ‘And I’m a man of my word.’
He picked up the bag and his briefcase and Sam closed the lid of the boot.
‘Hal!’ she blurted. He looked at her expectantly but she still hadn’t thought of anything to say.
‘I’ll be seeing you then,’ he said.
Now or never. Sam took a step closer and reached her arms up to his shoulders, but she didn’t want to have to yank his head down to her. Instead she turned him around and stepped up onto the kerb, bringing her face level with his. She looped both arms around his neck and pulled him close, kissing him purposefully, deliberately, trying to convey . . . well, she hoped he got the drift. He was obviously taken aback at first, but he relaxed into it, moving the arm holding the briefcase around her.
Sam pulled away slowly, a little self-conscious.
‘What was that for?’ Hal said quietly.
‘I don’t know,’ she shrugged.
She stepped off the kerb and skirted backwards around the car. ‘Have a good trip,’ she called, before disappearing inside the car. As she pulled away she could see Hal in the rear-vision mirror, standing in the same spot. He hadn’t moved. He watched her until the road curved around and she was out of sight.
Sheila tapped the pen on her desk. ‘You’re too emotionally involved, Samantha. You can’t work effectively like this.’
‘I don’t know how you can avoid it when you’re dealing with people on such a personal level,’ said Sam. ‘They all want to be friends, confide in me.’
‘That’s because you’re so good at this, Samantha,’ Sheila said matter-of-factly. ‘You have the rare ability to combine warmth and efficiency. You’re one of the best lifestyle managers I’ve ever employed.’
Sam didn’t know what to say. Sheila didn’t mean it as a compliment. She wasn’t one to flatter. She just called it as she saw it.
‘So, you’ve proven yourself now.’
‘Sorry?’
‘Do you think you’re the first jilted wife who’s ever joined us to make some kind of point to her husband?’
Sam was gobsmacked.
‘In my experience, men don’t leave because of a messy or disorganised house. Sometimes it’s quite the opposite. Funny, we make it so important,’ Sheila said, almost wistful. ‘So,’ she snapped out of it, ‘I knew we wouldn’t have you for much longer. You were bound to burn out soon. It always happens to the best ones.’
Sam looked at her sheepishly. She may as well be honest. ‘I am looking at my options actually.’
‘Well,’ Sheila said, unperturbed. ‘We should discuss how you can begin culling your clients, starting with Mrs Bowen, I presume?’
Sam nodded vaguely. ‘If that’s okay.’
‘Of course it is,’ Sheila dismissed. ‘It’s the only way we’ll keep her as a client at all. She’s very dirty with you. I’ve told her I’ll take care of her personally from now on.’
‘You’re brave,’ Sam muttered. ‘I didn’t realise you still took on clients.’
‘I reserve myself for the particularly challenging ones. They only come along from time to time.’ She looked up at Sam. ‘That’s how I avoid burnout,’ she winked. ‘So, is there anyone else that you’d like to offload, or who you think could be easily passed along to someone else?’
‘Well,’ said Sam, picking up her briefcase, ‘I have all my records with me.’
‘Excellent. Let’s take a look.’
‘You know I can’t afford to do this right away. I still have a mortgage.’
‘Of course. We’ll start the process now, but it will take months, and you can keep on as many clients as you wish. It’s up to you.’
Sam smiled gratefully. ‘You’re being very good about this.’
‘What’s the point of making it unpleasant, who wins out of that? It’s not good for either of us, it’s certainly not good for the clients.’ Sheila paused. ‘You’re going to make a new start for yourself, Samantha, regardless of what obstacles I put in your path. I’d rather you left us with a sense of accomplishment, and perhaps even a nice word to say about us.’
When Jeff called that night to talk to the kids, Sam made sure she answered the phone. She walked into her room and closed the door.
‘Hi,’ he said warily. ‘Are any of the kids around?’
‘Sure, I just want to talk to you about Christmas first.’
She heard him sigh. ‘Look, I understand where you’re coming from, Sam. It’s fair, I suppose.’
‘Well, it’s good of you to be so understanding, but I was coming from somewhere completely selfish. It shouldn’t be about what’s fair for me, or you, for that matter. It should only be about what’s fair for the kids.’
He didn’t say anything.
‘So they should have Christmas with you this year.’ Sam paused, giving him a chance to take it in.
‘Thank you, Sam.’ She could tell he was stunned.
‘But I was going to ask a small favour.’
‘Of course.’
‘Well, I hope it’s a small favour. Maybe you won’t see it that way.’ She took a breath. ‘But would you mind if they have the morning here? I just thought that way it probably doesn’t complicate the whole Santa issue for Ellie, you know. And . . . oh, damn.’
‘What is it?’
‘I’m trying to sound like I have noble intentions. But I just don’t think I could cope without them on Christmas morning,’ Sam swallowed, pressing her eyelids to stem tears that were perilously close.
‘Then they should spend Christmas Eve with you,’ Jeff said plainly. ‘I’ll pick them up later the next morning.’
Sam sighed, relieved. ‘Thank you.’
‘Thank you.’
They were silent for a moment. Sam composed herself. ‘I’ll get one of the kids now.’ She walked towards the door. ‘Oh, by the way, have you said anything to them . . . about . . . your news?’
‘Ah, no, not yet,’ Jeff stammered. ‘We thought it was better, maybe, to wait a little longer.’
Mm. Because you never know when the ex-wife’s gonna blow.
‘Well, whatever . . . they won’t hear anything negative from me,’ Sam finished.
‘Thanks Sam, that means a lot to me.’
‘Okay,’ she said, leaving the room. ‘I’ll get Jess.’
Sydney Exhibition Centre, Darling Harbour
Sam arrived at the main entrance at twenty past nine, ten minutes before she was due to meet Andrew Byron. She had spent a ridiculous amount of time last night deciding what to wear. This was a trendy industry, but she didn’t want to look like mutton done up as lamb. Nor did she want to come across as too conservative. She didn’t feel that a regular interview-type outfit was appropriate. Besides, Mr Byron had not spoken as though this was a formal interview. Sam finally settled on simple black trousers, flat shoes and a short-sleeved turtleneck jumper. She was neat and tidy and comfortable for work, but quite acceptable if it turned out to be more formal.
Someone burst through a door behind her and charged off down the street in a hurry. Sam wandered over to stand by the open door, watching the hubbub inside the vast pavilion. There were rows and rows of canopied stalls, some brightly striped, others bearing brand names. She tried to remember whether Mr Byron had mentioned what thi
s was all about. Some kind of gardening show perhaps? There were no plants in evidence as yet, but there were workers everywhere. They were up on ladders, stringing up banners, assembling yet more stalls, dashing around like chooks with their heads cut off. It did, however, seem like organised chaos. People weren’t frantic, just busy. Sam sensed the adrenaline in the atmosphere and found it irresistible.
She was so absorbed, in fact, that she hadn’t noticed someone approaching.
‘Samantha Holmes?’
She jumped a little, her eyes coming to focus on a pleasant-looking man who was probably around her own age. He was wearing a suit and tie, and a broad smile.
‘Andrew Byron,’ he announced, thrusting his hand out towards her.
Sam took a moment to respond. ‘Sorry,’ she said, clasping his hand. ‘I was expecting someone older. You said you were a friend of Ted’s,’ she added vaguely.
‘I am a very old friend of Ted’s,’ he confirmed. ‘I went to school with his son.’
‘Hugh?’
‘You know Hugh?’
Sam shrugged. ‘Only through cyberspace. I handle Ted’s correspondence. Hugh’s an avid emailer.’
‘Yes, I know, that’s how we keep in touch.’
She frowned. ‘Oh, perhaps you shouldn’t mention anything about me to Hugh –’
‘I know,’ he assured her. ‘Ted’s secret is safe with me. Though I think the old bloke’s mad, and I’ve told him as much, in politer terms. Of course he should tell Hugh about his condition.’
Sam nodded. ‘That’s what I keep telling him as well.’ She suddenly wondered if she was sounding gossipy. ‘Not that it’s really my place, or my business.’
He smiled. ‘Ted thinks the world of you, Samantha. I’m sure he would respect anything you had to say.’
She felt herself blushing.
‘And I have enormous respect for anything Ted has to say,’ he added. ‘Which is why I was happy to set up this meeting.’
‘Well, I can’t tell you how much I appreciate it, Mr Byron.’
‘Please, it’s Andrew.’
Sam nodded shyly.
‘Now, unfortunately I’m not going to be able to hang around for long,’ he explained. ‘I have a client meeting, that’s why I’m wearing this straightjacket,’ he said, indicating his suit. ‘We’re not usually so formal on the job.
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