by Sally Graham
“It’ll have to. Let’s pray for floods in the outback or a kangaroo giving birth to a human baby - anything to get this story off the pages. OK. Bye.”
“Phew,” Donna breathed. “For someone who shunned the limelight, darling, you certainly know how to generate it! Come one - get your things and we’ll try and sneak out round the back.”
“Thanks, Donna. You’ve earned a positive annual appraisal on the strength of that,” Tamara tried to joke, but she was reeling with the implications of the tawdry newspaper report.
“No time to discuss my pay rise then?” Donna answered, grabbing Tamara’s bag. “C’mon. If we’re quick we’ll strike lucky and get out before the dogs of war camp outside.”
Half pulling, half pushing, a stunned Tamara out of the door, they ran to the emergency stairwell and downstairs as quickly as they could, before Donna opened the basement door cautiously and peered out.
“I think it’s clear,” she breathed. “My car’s over there. Let’s get going - put your shades on and, if we have to, cover your head with this.” She thrust her coat at Tamara.
Moments later they were driving up the exit ramp and approaching the barrier.
“Come on….. Come on…” groaned Donna as she pushed her parking card into the machine.
The wait seemed interminable before they heard a robotic click and the striped barrier lifted slowly upwards.
“Hey - Ms Tremaine?”
A woman dashed forward holding a microphone with the local TV station’s logo. A cameraman ran behind, aiming directly at their car.
“Did you enjoy your vacation with Simon Henty? Are you going to announce a romantic engagement?”
“Cow!” Donna shouted as she revved the car out of the building. “Cover up, darling - it’s time for anonymity!”
Chapter 17
Simon re-read the email about Tamara and gazed anxiously across Sydney harbour. If Damian had been able to find out information about Tamara, it wouldn’t be long before the tabloid hacks were on to her as well. And one glance at the screaming headlines an hour ago confirmed his worst worries about unwelcome media intrusion into his private life.
I’m beginning to understand, he thought to himself. She went through hell when her father was indicted. Then he committed suicide. And to cap it all, was Tamara’s mother dying a year or so later.
Simon exhaled slowly. Tamara’s father had rejected her in the cruellest way. Her mother had left her isolated. Tamara had retreated into a vortex of activity so she could lose herself completely in her career.
And then he had blundered into her life, and then rejected her as well. Simon picked up his phone again and scrolled through the pictures he had taken when he was with Tamara in Italy. Tamara’s carefree, smiling face shone at him. And the picture of her in her bikini….. Simon hadn’t been able to get the memories of their love making out of his mind.
To: Tamara Tremaine
From: Simon Henty
Re: Where are you?
Subject: I’ve seen the papers. And - I know about everything. We need to talk. Call me. Simon.
A few moments later he had a reply.
To: Simon Henty
From: Tamara Tremaine
Re: Where are you?
Subject: This is an automated response. Thank you for your email. I will not be able to respond immediately but I will be checking my mail intermittently and I will get back to you as soon as possible.
Simon cursed under his breath. He dialled her direct line, but received a recorded message.
She’s avoiding me. I’ll try her office.
“I’m sorry, Mr Henty, but Ms. Tremaine will be away from the office on extended leave. I’m Donna, her assistant. Is there anything I can help you with?”
Simon swore under his breath and switched off the phone.
Across town Donna turned to Tamara and smiled. “I think he’s getting the message,” she said.
Simon paused for a second, put a call through to his head of security and gave instructions. Certain that he would be able to find Tamara one way or another, he turned back to the bank of screens on his desk and began coolly analysing the company spread sheets and financial data that were the bedrock of his success.
Chapter 18
“It can’t be a month since you got back?” Donna said, sipping her cocktail. She looked at Tamara. “You haven’t got over him, have you?” she asked shrewdly.
Tamara sighed. “It’s crazy, isn’t it? No, I haven’t. I think about him every day.”
“So what are you going to do about it?”
“There’s nothing to be done. Simon isn’t into long term relationships. He just wants one-night stands. He’s addicted to his business.”
“I suppose if I earned that amount of money, I would be too,” Donna answered.
“Listen, it’s a mirage. Even when we were away he still had a team of people he would be closeted with, following deals, doing deals, looking for deals. We were in one of the most romantic places in the world - Italy, for God’s sake!”
“Look, it’s Friday. It’s the end of the month - we’ve had good billings and won three new accounts. Why don’t we go somewhere and party?” Donna said brightly, trying to raise Tamara’s spirits.
“No, you go. I don’t know why, but I feel bushed. I’ve been getting back at the end of work and just crashing. Besides, aren’t you meeting someone?”
“Go and get a check up - better still, go and see this acupuncture guy I’ve heard about. He’s meant to be amazing!”
“You’re avoiding the question,” Tamara laughed. “What about your man?”
“And you’re not taking care of yourself. Promise me you’ll go and see someone? Your doctor?”
“Maybe I will. Now, what’s he like?”
Donna put her glass down. “Well, I’ve finished my drink and, to be honest, I think I’m going to finish with Ted as well. He’s OK but -“
“Donna! You get through men faster than anyone I know!”
“Perhaps I do,” Donna laughed. “But the right guy’s out there somewhere. And I’m holding out for him. I’m fed up with these creeps who want one thing only - their hands in my pants.” She leaned across the small bar table towards Tamara. “He’s out there somewhere,” she repeated conspiratorially, “and I’m gonna find him!”
“Good on you, girl! Go for it.” Tamara looked at her watch, and yawned. “My God, it’s only 8.30, and I’m whacked. Look - you go on, and I’ll see you Monday. Have a good one!”
As she let herself into her apartment, Tamara thought about what Donna had said. “The right guy’s out there….” Simon was out there alright, but they weren’t destined to be together.
She didn’t feel like eating, and decided that she would check in at the health clinic just to see if she had picked up a virus or whatever. It was just that she’d been feeling so exhausted recently, which wasn’t her style. Normally she would be at the gym three nights a week, but she hadn’t been for ten days.
She moodily began undressing and opened the bathroom cabinet for a new toothpaste, when she froze.
My God. My tampons.
Tamara was always efficient and never ran out; there was the new pack she had bought last month. But she hadn’t needed to open it.
I’m late. I’m never late. I’m NEVER LATE!!
Half an hour later she burst into the apartment with the three pregnancy tests she had grabbed off the shelf from the late night pharmacy two blocks away.
Ten minutes later Tamara was staring in disbelief at the thin blue marker.
This isn’t happening. I was told it couldn’t happen. I can’t be pregnant.
Tamara sank onto her bed as she remembered the nights of passion that she had shared with Simon.
But he used condoms.
The weekend passed in a haze of fear, worry and desperate hope that she might be mistaken. In spite of the other pregnancy tests showing positive, Tamara clung to the possibility that she might not be.
<
br /> Until Monday night, when she walked out of the doctor’s surgery. “There’s no doubt,” she’d been told. “You’re having a baby.”
What the hell do I do now?
Chapter 19
“We’ve got every entrance to the Square Circle office building under surveillance. We’re pretty certain she’s being smuggled in by her assistant, a Miss Donna Petersen. They’re using the underground staff park and then taking the utilities elevator to the fifteenth floor.”
“Right - thanks, Damian. Good work.”
A few moments later, Simon was being chauffeured through the tail end of Sydney’s commuter traffic. As his limousine drew up in front of the Square Circle he leaned forward. “Davy? Take a next left, around the back, will you?”
As the car pulled away, and then turned, Simon realised how he might be able to spring a surprise on Tamara.
“OK, stop here. I’ll call when I need picking up, ok?”
He dodged across the road and walked down the ramp into the Square Circle underground car park. He was in luck. Because there was no car to activate the barrier, the building’s CCTV cameras didn’t alert the security guard. Simon managed to walk unseen to a loading bay in front of the service lift. At that moment the orange indicator light glowed - the elevator would stop right in front of him. Pressing himself against the side of the wall, he waited.
A moment later the doors slid open and two cleaners started pushing a trolley loaded with black bin liners. They were laughing and joking as they manhandled the awkward load over the gap between the lift shaft and the car park. They hardly noticed when Simon pushed past and feverishly pressed the button for the fifteenth floor.
“Hey - what you doing, man?
But Simon gave the trolley a final heave as the doors hissed shut, and the elevator juddered upwards.
What the hell am I doing? This is crazy. There’s going to be even more bad publicity.
His heart was pounding as he watched the floor numbers blink their way until the lift stopped at floor fifteen, and the doors opened. He stepped out into a drab passage lit with fluorescent strip lighting. At the end was door which he guessed led into the office area. Taking a deep breath, he strode down the passage and pushed open the door.
One glance told him that Damian had been right. Through the glass office wall he saw Tamara sitting at her desk, working with another girl. Was that Donna?
At that moment, Tamara looked up. Her eyes widened in astonishment as she saw Simon.
At the same time two security guards ran into the office.
Simon turned around. “Excuse me?” His voice betrayed no nervousness, and the guard was unnerved.
“We had a report of an intruder,” he said uncertainly.
Simon looked blank. “Where?” he asked. I came up via the service elevator, if you want to know. I’m a client of Ms. Tremaine.”
“It’s alright, thank you. I was expecting Mr Henty - even if his arrival was unorthodox. He’ll sign out in the usual way - won’t you?” Tamara said, turning to Simon, and looking at him coldly.
“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” Tamara blazed at him a few moments later when Donna had left. “You barge in here like a third rate cat burglar. For what?”
“For us to talk, Tamara. To have the conversation we should have had on board the yacht on the last night of our holiday.”
“There’s nothing to discuss,” Tamara said, moving away from him.
Simon reached out to catch her arm.
“Don’t touch me,” she hissed. “Everyone is gawping at us, can’t you see? It’s a goldfish bowl here.”
“Well I’m not prepared to swim around in circles,” Simon replied grimly. “You don’t have to talk, Tamara, but you can at least listen to me. I’m here because -“ he paused. “I’m here to apologise. I - I’m sorry for the way things turned out between us. You deserved better from me. I behaved crassly.”
“You behaved incredibly selfishly.”
Simon turned round, conscious of the office team outside who were studiously looking at their computer screens but who, he knew, were following every move between Tamara and himself.
“Can’t we talk somewhere else? Can’t we have dinner? Just one more time? Can’t we just try and mend fences?”
Tamara glared at him. “I don’t think there’s anything to say,” she said icily. “I have no interest in being part of your media circus and I’m looking forward to leading a normal life.”
“I’m not responsible for what the gutter press write,” he said angrily. “Do you imagine I enjoy seeing pictures of me?”
“Oh great,” Tamara spat. “Pictures of you. Typical. Don’t think of anyone else, will you? It’s aways me, me, and me and Henty enterprises. It’s just that you made the mistake of thinking you could drape me over your arm instead of some bimbo who you could chuck away as soon as you returned to base.”
Simon stared at her. “Is that what you really think? Do you imagine that I’m that person, Tamara? What do you think happened between us in Italy? It wasn’t a one-night stand you know!”
“That was a nasty thing to say. But I’ll let it go. What I want is to get on with my life.”
“Tamara - you can’t get on with your life until you accept your life.”
“What the hell do you mean?”
“I know about your father,” Simon said simply. “I know everything that happened. I know about the scandal, the court case, your dad’s sui-“
“Stop there,” Tamara shouted at him, uncaring if her raised voice could be heard outside the office. “So maybe you do. So what? It has absolutely nothing to do with you. You’re an insensitive, cold-hearted banker. Feelings don’t count in your book.”
Simon stepped towards her angrily. “Don’t come near me,” she yelled.
“Goodbye, Tamara,” he said coldly. “I’m sorry I came here. It was a mistake. I can see that. I’ll leave.” As he reached the door Simon turned. “I’ll get my PR people to do everything they can to calm down the publicity. Perhaps -“ but his voice trailed off, and Simon Henty walked out of the office.
Tamara sank into her chair, and burst into tears.
Chapter 20
Tamara had emailed the office and arranged a brief sick leave. Not that she felt ill, but she couldn’t face any hassle, and she also wondered if she would be able to get through a day without Donna sensing something.
She’d hardly eaten since the shock of discovering her pregnancy and decided to grab some groceries. Pulling on her clothes she looked at herself in the full length mirror in her wardrobe. Surely there isn’t a bump, yet?
Grabbing an empty basket, she headed for the hall but stopped short when the entry buzzer sounded.
“Hi, Paul. A parcel for me?” she asked the attendant in the entrance lobby.
“Hi, Tamara, it’s not a parcel. It’s a visitor. A Mr Simon Henty. He’s on his way up to see you? He showed me your card so I assumed -“
At that moment there was a knock on her door.
I don’t believe this.
“Hi, Tamara. I’m sorry, but I had to see you. I’ve just flown in. And, um, I was passing…” His voice trailed away but Simon made no attempt to walk through the door, but simply stood on the threshold. “Tamara? Are you OK?”
Opening the door wider, Tamara stared at him before stepping aside and gesturing that he follow her indoors.
“I guess this is a surprise,” Simon went on, “but I had to talk to you. Particularly after the mess I made of our last meeting.”
My God, she’s even more stunning.
“Simon,” Tamara began uncertainly, “Look -“
“Please,” he interrupted. “Don’t feel you have to explain, or even let me stay more than a couple of minutes. I’ve been away on the conference circuit. Mainly in the States. But wherever I was, whatever I was doing, I couldn’t stop thinking of you. And it wasn’t to do with sleeping together…. It was more than that.” He looked at her. “It’s far more
, Tamara.”
“What are you saying?” she answered weakly.
“I don’t know what I’m saying, or what you’re thinking. I just want it to be that we can spend more time together, not on some crazy vacation stunt, but just as two people getting to know one another again. How does that sound?” He reached out and held Tamara’s hands, before bringing them to his mouth and kissing her fingertips. “I behaved so badly when we left Italy. It was as if I was on auto-pilot, locking you out, the way I used to lock other people out of my life when things came to an end. Can you… can you forgive me?”
