Whitsunday Dawn

by Annie Seaton

  A tropical paradise, she thought. If only she could forget about the work she was here to do, pull on her bikini and sarong, order a cocktail and forget the real world for a while. She stared out over the water, mesmerised by the brilliant colours. She’d had no idea that it was so blue, always assuming the tourist brochures had been touched up to entice prospective visitors. She’d never tire of looking at a view like that; it was breathtaking. As soon as this Zenith project was signed off, she’d definitely make the effort to come back here for a holiday before she moved on to the next project.

  A tap at the door caught her attention, and Liv opened it to a young girl in the hotel uniform, a tray in hand.

  ‘Welcome to our Reef Resort, Ms Sheridan. A jug of freshly made lemonade for you. Would you like me to put it on the balcony?’

  ‘Why not?’ Liv smiled as she stepped back to let the girl enter the room; she could get used to this life very quickly. The girl placed the tray with a glass, and a jug of ice on the table outside. She held up a small plastic implement and pointed to the glass. ‘Just use this to squeeze the lemon onto the ice and then tip the syrup over it too.’

  ‘Thank you.’

  ‘Is there anything else I can get for you?’

  ‘No, everything is wonderful.’ Liv pointed to the island across the channel. ‘One question for you, though. What’s the name of that big island?’

  ‘That’s Whitsunday Island, and that’s where you’ll find our famous Whitehaven Beach.’ The girl smiled and accepted the tip that Liv held out to her. ‘Thank you. Make sure you do take a tour there. It’s listed as one of the ten most beautiful beaches in the world. We offer a day trip from the resort. You won’t believe the colours of the water, turquoise, blue and green swirling over white sand.’

  Liv shook her head regretfully and glanced at the girl’s badge. ‘Unfortunately, Sara, I’m here to work, as much as I’d love to take a tour.’

  ‘You could always work at night.’ Sara’s voice was persuasive. ‘There’s so much to see out here in the islands. How long are you staying?’

  ‘Only for the weekend. I have to be over on the mainland on Monday morning.’

  ‘Don’t miss the opportunity. The forecast has promised a brilliant day for tomorrow. It would be a shame to spend it in a hotel room.’

  Liv laughed. ‘You make a good argument.’

  Sara crossed to the door. ‘Well, think about it. It’s as simple as selecting your tour and calling reception. You can’t visit the islands and stay in a hotel room working all day.’

  After taking a quick shower and pulling on a pair of long, loose pants and a T-shirt, Liv reluctantly opened her briefcase and placed the files beside her Mac Air on the inside dining table. If she stayed out on that balcony, she’d never get any work done. The light faded into a tropical dusk, the chatter of the birds filling the air as they swooped on the blossoms looking for food. Liv switched the computer on and logged on to the resort’s network to check her email. Before she could open the messages, her mobile rang.

  ‘Olivia!’

  Her buoyant mood disappeared instantly at the brusque tone. ‘Hello, Dad.’ She sat on the bed and leaned her head back against the soft rattan bedhead.

  ‘You haven’t replied to my email. What are you doing?’

  ‘I’ve been on a plane. I’ve just downloaded my email now. Give me ten minutes and I’ll look at—’

  Her father interrupted her. ‘Don’t worry about it. Your presentation has been amended.’

  Liv fought the urge to grit her teeth and kept her tone even. ‘Again?’ God, she’d almost memorised the whole bloody thing and had a response prepared for any questions that the community could throw at her on Monday. Any changes would mean more work, and time was running out. ‘I thought we went through the final PowerPoint this morning?’

  ‘I’ve had a videoconference this afternoon, and we’ve moved forward a long way.’ The short huff from the other end of the call relayed his usual impatience. ‘Things change quickly in the corporate world. You should know that by now. Have I made a mistake trusting you with this project, Olivia?’

  ‘No, Dad, of course not. You know you can trust me,’ she said quietly. ‘I know this data inside out. So, what’s changed in the presentation now?’ A glimmer of disquiet tugged at her, bringing back the tension she’d carried all the way from Sydney. If it was a major change, she would be working all weekend.

  ‘Don’t worry. It’s all been updated for you. All you have to do is look pretty and change the slides.’

  Liv closed her eyes and took a deep breath before she replied. ‘I’ll ignore that sexist remark. Now, tell me what’s changed, so I can be prepared for any questions.’

  ‘We’ve moved further forward with the local council for the new site approval—’

  ‘New site?’ Liv interrupted.

  ‘I told you that this morning. Earnaldo Bay has been selected.’ His tone was impatient. ‘And, more importantly, the rail line has been approved.’

  ‘That’s good to hear.’ Liv stood and crossed back to her computer. She was sure it was the first mention she’d heard of Earnaldo Bay. ‘So, you’ve emailed the updated file to me?’

  ‘No. The bloody thing’s too big. You’ll have to log on and download it. Rod’s emailed you the file path.’

  ‘Okay. I’ll check now.’

  ‘Make sure you do it properly. Now we’ve got the regional council on side, we’re almost there. The state government’s very close to signing off on the project. We are at an extremely sensitive stage of the negotiations.’

  ‘So this community meeting is the last chance for any more local objections to be raised?’ She clicked on the email icon.

  ‘Yes. Now that we have the council in our pocket—’

  ‘I won’t be using an expression like that,’ she interrupted.

  ‘Don’t be smart, Olivia. You know what I mean. I want the process to be seen as open and transparent, so the local community needs to feel well-informed.’ His chuckle was out of character. ‘They need to think they have a say.’

  Liv frowned as she looked at the new messages. ‘Yes, the email’s here. I’ll get straight onto it.’

  ‘All you have to do is follow the link and copy the new PowerPoint to your computer. Can you do that?’

  Liv gritted her teeth.

  ‘Make sure you use that one and not the one we looked at this morning. And don’t make any other changes.’ His tone no longer held amusement for what he considered Liv’s unnecessary detail to her presentations. They’d had words about that on several occasions. ‘I know how you like to “pretty up” your presentations. You’re there to placate any objections.’

  ‘Trust me.’

  ‘I hope I can. I don’t want this stuffed up, and I don’t want any rabid greenies hijacking the meeting.’ Her father’s voice rose. ‘I expect you to be on the ball with this, Olivia. One hundred percent. Replace the file and then don’t touch it. Is that clear?’

  ‘Quite clear.’ She kept her voice patient, though her frustration threatened to spill out. Sometimes she wondered why it was so important to her that she please her father.

  Not that I ever seem to. Liv scrolled through her emails as she listened to more instructions. She’d heard them all before, and it was simply a reiteration of what her father had gone through as she’d stood in his office overlooking Circular Quay before leaving for the airport only six hours before.

  There was no doubt about it; Dad was a ruthless businessman, and anyone who didn’t measure up would soon be cut loose— daughter or not. Liv swallowed down the lump that stuck in her throat. She knew that better than most; she’d been working to gain his respect—forget about fatherly love—for most of her thirty years, much to her mother’s dismay. Liv had been an unexpected addition to her parents’ marriage when they were in their forties, and it hadn’t been easy having a father who’d never shown any interest in his only child. Liv had been trying to compensate for not being a
son since the day she was born.

  ‘Livi, it’s not worth it. You have to realise that your father is a hard man. You won’t ever succeed in pleasing him.’

  How many times had she heard that from her mother? Life had been easier for Mum after she and Dad had divorced the year Liv had started high school. Years of trying to hold the marriage together, even after a succession of his extra-marital affairs, had made Mum stronger. She had found herself a new career and had run her own successful florist business until she’d retired a couple of years ago. While Mum had revolutionised her life, Dad had moved on to a later-model wife, but that marriage had only lasted eighteen months.

  Strength was a trait of the women in their family, and Liv was thankful she’d inherited the gene from Gran and Mum. But despite her inner strength, trying so hard to please her father frequently had them butting heads. Sometimes Liv wondered if it was worth it. Maybe she should have stayed with Gran and Mum on the land. When Dad had agreed—albeit reluctantly—to her joining his company when she’d finished university, Liv had foolishly assumed their relationship would improve. Mum had tried to persuade her not to accept the position, but Liv had seen it as the perfect opportunity to finally prove herself; to make amends for not being a son, and to show him she could achieve whatever he wanted her to. If anything, Dad’s attitude had become more distant in the eight years she’d worked at Sheridan Corp.

  She dragged her thoughts back to the present as his voice rose.

  ‘I’m sending Phil and Rod to join you on Monday. They’ll fly in Sunday night, and meet you at the conference centre on Monday morning.’

  Liv stood straight and kept her voice level to hide the disappointment.

  Nothing ever changed.

  ‘Phil?’ She knew Rod well and liked him; he was the first of Dad’s PR people to treat her with respect.

  ‘Phillip Garvan is the media liaison rep from Zenith. They’ll keep the company line. Let Phillip answer any curly questions. You stick to the facts and figures.’

  I’m obviously not capable. ‘Gee, thanks,’ she muttered under her breath.

  ‘I’ll email you his contact details now.’

  This time it was bitterness that rose in her throat, but she stayed professional. ‘Great. I’ll wait for it.’ She stared at the screen as the email dinged its arrival. ‘And Dad. Trust me. I won’t let you down.’

  ‘Make sure you don’t.’

  The call disconnected from his end. Liv carefully placed her phone onto the table beside her computer as she came to a decision.

  Sending two staff to the meeting to answer the community questions was further proof that her father had no faith in her ability. She could spend all night going over the wretched presentation, and it would make little or no difference. She could bring in a multimillion dollar contract singlehandedly, and there would still be someone in the company who had done it better, or faster, or made more money for Sheridan Corp. Whatever she did wouldn’t be good enough. The problem was, this deal was huge. It was in the national papers frequently, and the controversy of the Chinese company, Zenith, backing the Sheridan Corp deal was gaining more attention every day. But it looked like it was going to be another major success for Sheridan Corp—or more to the point, Andrew Sheridan.

  I’m over it.

  Padding across the cool tiles to the coffee table, Liv sat on the sofa. She picked up the hotel compendium and flicked through the brochures before picking up the phone and dialling reception.

  ‘Hello, this is Olivia Sheridan in Room 726. I’d like to book a tour to Whitehaven Beach tomorrow.’ After her reservation was confirmed, she opened the fridge and pulled out a small bottle of wine. As she was about to take her first sip, her phone buzzed again and she rolled her eyes. She hit the answer button and lifted the phone to her ear. ‘Yes, Dad, I’m downloading it now.’

  The lighthearted laugh that came through the phone brought a smile to her face.

  ‘Don’t tell me your father’s still making you work up there in the tropics?’ her mother asked.

  ‘Hi, Mum. And you should know better than to ask. Of course he is.’ With the phone to her ear, Liv crossed to her computer, opened the email and clicked on the link. The company network logon came up on the screen. ‘Give me a second. I just have to download a file and then I can talk.’

  ‘Okay. I’ll go and pour a wine. I’ve got time for a good natter tonight.’

  ‘I’ve just poured one.’ Liv put her phone down and entered her company username and password. She frowned as the screen opened to an unfamiliar part of the network. Instead of taking her to the revised PowerPoint, a series of folders filled the screen. She glanced over them and nodded when she saw the one labelled Community Meeting. Clicking on the folder she looked for the revised PowerPoint but there were three rows of files in the folder. She flicked quickly through the names, unsure which file was the correct one to download.

  God forbid she downloaded the wrong PowerPoint. She wouldn’t have to worry about work; she’d be out of a job. Conscious of her mother waiting, Liv closed the Community Meeting folder and then clicked to download the folder it was sitting in. She’d sort out which was the revised presentation later.

  CHAPTER

  3

  April 28, 2018

  Fynn James stood on the deck of Footprint and looked out over the Hamilton Island marina. The gentle wind lifted the curls from the back of his neck and he took a deep breath of the clean, pure air. The sky was cloudless and the breeze was perfect for sailing, promising a good day around the islands. This would be the last charter he’d be taking out for a week or so; he needed to work through the last files that Greg had emailed last night. The sooner he could sail Footprint out to one of the bays and moor in isolation, and peace and quiet, for a few days, the happier he’d be. He had a lot of work to get through if they were to be successful in stopping Zenith.

  ‘And bloody Sheridan Corp,’ he muttered, thinking about the woman they’d met yesterday. Looked like Andrew Sheridan had sent his daughter in to do his dirty work again. Greg had predicted she’d be the one fronting the community meeting, and if there was anything worth knowing about Sheridan Corp, his journalist friend knew it.

  Fynn unchained his bicycle and lifted it from his yacht onto the finger wharf. He’d spent too much time going over Greg’s files last night, and slept through the alarm. He glanced at his watch as he pedalled towards the wharf at the other end of the marina. He was going to make it in time for departure, just.

  Between the fishing charters, the sailing trips and the restaurant, he’d been needed on the island early each morning for the past couple of weeks, so Footprint had been berthed in the marina, side-by-side with other yachts. Byron had been trying to talk him into living in one of the apartments on Hamo, knowing how Fynn hated being jammed into the marina, but he preferred to stay on his boat. He’d spent his life living on boats, and the thought of being confined within four walls stifled him.

  ‘I won’t be available from Monday for a few days,’ he’d told Byron when they’d walked Aunty Tat through the marina yesterday afternoon. ‘Can you get Adam to fill in for me?’

  ‘Yeah, he’s back from his break today. I’ll call him as soon as I get Aunty Tat settled at home. What’s happening?’

  ‘Greg’s sent up a lot of useful data, and after the community meeting on Monday, I’m sure we’ll have more questions. I’m going to sail out and go over what I have. Greg will come up in a week or so to plan our next move.’

  Byron had looked at him as he and Aunty Tat had walked to the ferry wharf. ‘It’s going to be interesting, that’s for sure.’

  ‘Are you attending the meeting in an official capacity?’

  ‘No, John is the council rep on this project, but I’ll do my best to be there, don’t you worry about that.’

  ‘It is a worry. No matter whatever we raise or what hits the papers, Sheridan always comes back with a response. How the hell he’s convinced so many people that this is
beneficial for the region has me stumped.’ Fynn ran his fingers through his hair and grimaced when the fishy smell filled the air.

  ‘There’s nothing to worry about. There’s no way it will go ahead. The traditional owners won’t approve the rail line across the land from the mine, and building a coal loader so close to a tourist town is ludicrous. The council will never approve the site, no matter how many times Sheridan gets the land usage rezoned.’ Byron’s voice was empathic but it didn’t reassure Fynn.

  ‘I don’t trust them. Greg has uncovered some pretty murky things in their past projects, and they’ve managed to get them approved despite the environmental concerns.’ Fynn leaned over and kissed Aunty Tat’s cheek. ‘You look after yourself, darlin’. It was lovely to see you again today.’

  ‘Are you coming over to see me on Sunday?’ Aunty Tat’s smile was bright, and she’d forgotten all about the woman she’d accosted earlier.

  ‘Of course I am. You know I wouldn’t miss a Sunday at Poinciana House.’ Fynn held her elbow as they stepped up towards the ramp onto the ferry. ‘And my favourite lady.’

  ‘You didn’t come after the cyclone last year.’ Her voice held censure.

  Byron shook his head and caught Fynn’s eyes. ‘Her memory’s there for recent events,’ he said quietly.

  ‘But she’s already forgotten about that woman.’ Fynn narrowed his eyes. ‘Did you happen to notice the pin on her jacket?’

  ‘No.’ Byron held onto Aunty Tat’s hand and paused before he stepped onto the ramp beside her. ‘What was it?’

  ‘Sheridan Corp. I’m assuming it was Olivia Sheridan.’

  Byron had given a low whistle. ‘Interesting. Here already for the meeting on Monday?’

  Fynn nodded. ‘I’d say so.’

  Byron looked thoughtful as he led Aunty Tat towards the enclosed cabin on the lower deck. ‘I’ll see you at home on Sunday,’ he called. ‘We’ll talk some more before the meeting. You can fill me in on what Greg’s got to say.’