“Paul and I had a huge argument last night,” said Kaz to Jools over their midmorning coffee. She needed some girl time to workshop things, as she’d really given Paul the rounds of the kitchen and now was the perfect opportunity to chat while they were on their own, as Jools always had a good ear.
The two of them were sitting outside in the sun at 21 Squares. Kaz was on a former Elwood High School classroom chair with”Nick M 4-eva” graffitied on the back inside a heart and Jools sat on an inverted milk crate, complete with a brown burlap-covered cushion on top. Bec had just sent a text to say she was running late, which suited Kaz because it would give her time to chat privately with Jools.
“Kaz, it’s not up to me to tell you how to live your life, but at the same time, you need to cut Paul some slack. He’s under enormous pressure, as I’m sure you are, and he’s really taking this to heart.”
“That’s not the half of it.”
“You know he dropped over to our place the other Friday night? I think he just needed to off-load and have some time out.”
Kaz was taken aback, because Paul hadn’t mentioned anything about dropping in to see Jools and G.
What’s wrong with me? Kaz thought to herself. I hate the way Paul speaks about our problems to damn G all the time. He needs to learn to keep his fat mouth shut. If he wants to talk to someone, it should be me. I’m his wife after all.
“Jools, I realize that Paul’s under pressure, but he can’t just throw in the towel and call it a day,” said Kaz, contradicting herself by speaking about their relationship to Jools. “He’s totally resigned to the fact that we’re about to lose the business. He’s given up. I’m just not used to him being like this, so I damn well told him. He’s got to knuckle down and get us out of this mess.”
“Ah, Kaz, maybe you should think about speaking to him with a little more tact. You may find that he opens up a bit more if you create an environment where he knows you won’t jump down his throat every time he opens his mouth.”
“Now’s not the time for sensitivity! Paul’s got to get a grip. First he goes all soppy about Rishi’s death, and now this. You know what he brought home with him last night?” said Kaz with a totally frustrated inflection in her voice. “A bloody job advertisement to work for a nonprofit organization helping resettle those damn useless refugees that keep arriving on our shores, or wherever it is they go to. How ridiculous! Have you ever heard anything so stupid? That’s when I lost it and told him he’d lost his damn mind.”
“Kaz, I know about it. It was G who brought Paul’s attention to the ad. And it’s not as stupid as it sounds. You need to talk to Paul about it. Let him have his say. Maybe the time has come in Paul’s career to start looking for alternatives. I gather his health’s suffering with all the stress.”
“Oh, he’s just like everyone else his age. He’s on blood pressure medication and taking something for his cholesterol, but he’ll survive. He’s as strong as an ox. Not like me.”
“Kaz, have you ever considered that Paul may be suffering from depression?”
“That’s bullshit. The doctor tried to tell him that a few months ago, but when Paul mentioned it to me I told him to get a grip. How ridiculous.”
Kaz just doesn’t get it, thought Jools. I love her as a friend, but she can be so self-centered. She’s going to end up driving a wedge between Paul and herself if she doesn’t change her attitude and start working with Paul instead of against him.
“Hi guys,” said Bec. She’d arrived in a rush and was looking totally flustered as she plonked her bag down on the low, collapsible,”rainforest-friendly” wooden table and sat down, instantly pouring cold water on Kaz and Jools’s conversation.
“What’s up?”
“I certainly got the cold shoulder from Kaz this morning. She was like an iceberg.” Bec was talking to Sean and attempting without a lot of success to have a predinner glass of wine to decompress with her husband. He was sitting at their kitchen island bar and she was going through her usual nightly ritual, snacking of course and preparing dinner while attempting to divert young Rory’s attention away from the TV and on to his homework.
“Maybe I went a bit overboard when I off-loaded on Kaz at the wake.” Bec was only just getting used to her newfound self and she was already having doubts about whether she’d done the right thing.
“Trust in yourself, Bec. I’m sure Kaz had it coming. She always has been a bit of a stuck-up bitch if you ask me.”
“Sean! How can you say that? . . . but you’re right of course,” Bec added almost as an afterthought, and then laughed.
“Now that I’ve come this far, I can’t go back. Jools says it’s all about personal growth and getting in touch with the real me.”
“I can’t find fault with that piece of logic,” replied Sean.
He was always sceptical of Jools’s mumbo-jumbo earth mother stuff, but he had witnessed a huge change in Bec since she had been seeing Jools each week. And her recent altercation with Kaz laid testament to the fact that maybe she had finally found a modicum of self-confidence.
“And what about you? How are things at the project?” asked Bec with a caring inflection. “Is the shit still hitting the fan? Are we going to survive, or do I have to batten down the hatches?”
“Mummy, I heard that,” said Rory, looking up from his homework. “That’s a rude word.”
“She’ll put a shilling in the cuss box, to be sure,” said Sean. “Now finish your homework like a good lad and then you can watch Neighbours.” Rory nodded, and Sean looked back to Bec.
“Well it’s not all that good apparently,” replied Sean. “Paul’s firmly convinced that it’s all doom and gloom and Steve, well he’s just weird. It’s as if he couldn’t give a flying fook whether the project crashes and burns or succeeds.”
“But what’s really pissing me off is the disregard they have for the lads in the pit. They rely on me, and Paul and Steve keep telling me to go on as if all is on schedule. But Bec, to tell you the truth, I’m finding it difficult to look the boys in the eye. That’s one of the reasons why I totally lost it with them the other day.”
Sean paused, the verbal altercation he’d had with his partners replaying in 3-D in his head, then continued.
“Also, the pricks weren’t telling me the whole story as to what’s going on. That really pissed me off as well, big-time.”
“We haven’t really talked about that yet. I hope you didn’t say anything you now regret.”
“No, nothing. I may have lost it, but they both deserved every word I said. Especially Steve, the slimy arsewipe that he is. And you know what totally wound me up? They couldn’t give me an answer as to what they’re going to do to get us out of this mess. No matter how hard I pushed them. Bloody wankers, both of them if you ask me.”
“Sean, sometimes you’re just a bog Irish immigrant, but I love you dearly. You’re so principled and you expect other people to be the same. You know of course that’s why I married you all those years ago. So where does that leave us?”
“Well, I’ll still keep running the project while I know my lads will get cash in their hand at the end of the week, but I also have to think of us as well . . . our future . . . so I’ve been checking out the ads in the papers for another job.”
“Sean O’Rourke, you’re a good man with a kind heart and smart head on your shoulders. And I previously would have been worried . . . and actually I still am . . . but for once I have confidence that we’ll pull through this.”
“Bec, you realize that if the project goes down, we go down with it? We’re both guarantors.”
“Sean, we’ll work it out, okay? And if the worst happens, you can start again. You’ve done it before.”
Sean heard what his wife just said and couldn’t believe his ears. A few weeks ago, Bec would have been beside herself with worry, siding with Paul and preparing for total annihilation. But now, she was the champion of positivity.
Looking at his wife, he saw a different
person: she was a woman exuding confidence and self-belief. It was as if the tables had turned, with Bec assuming the role of mentor and advisor.
“You know Bec, it’s a tough call, but just maybe some good did come out of Rishi’s death after all, God bless his soul,” said Sean reflectively. “I think you still would have been kowtowing to the likes of Kaz otherwise.”
“Think you may be right, Sean. And thanks to Jools as well. Without her, the new me wouldn’t have been able to emerge.”
Bec was actually proud of herself. She felt good about life for a change.
“Sean, stand your ground and don’t compromise your values. Be true to yourself. If the proverbial hits the fan,” she said as Bec cast an eye in Rory’s direction, just to make sure his ears weren’t focused their way, “if it’s meant to be, it’ll all work out. Karma will prevail and all will be good.”
“Yeah, you’re right of course. From now on I’ll be watching them like a hawk. They won’t be able to fart without me knowing.”
“Well, maybe you’ve been too trusting in the past. It’s time to think of how we’re positioned, yes.”
“Agree entirely. In a worst-case scenario, we could lose the lot, so I’m not going to let those pricks get the better of me. Not without a fight.”
“Sean, shh, not in front of Rory.” Bec glanced over at their son and noted that he had switched his attention back to the TV.
“Rory.” No response. “Rory! I’m talking to you.”
Without looking away from the TV he sort of grunted, “Yes, Mum. I’ve finished my homework. Now this is a good bit. Can we talk later?”
At least he hadn’t heard Sean’s cussing.
“Sean, whatever happens, I’m behind you one hundred percent. Just never compromise your principles and lower yourself to the level of your partners. And that shifty Tony. I never liked him, right from the start. He’s an absolute weasel.”
“I know what you mean, Bec. Apart from having an obligation to my tradies, in this industry you’re really only as good as your reputation. If we’ve got to start again, I plan to do so with a team that takes me for my word.”
Bec was proud of Sean and the way he stood by his principles. He was her rock, standing out like a beacon in a sea of shady operators and she knew that his honesty and integrity would pull them through and see them achieve success again if the project failed, as it looked like it would.
Bec smiled and felt that inner warming glow that came from absolute respect for her partner.
“Sean O’Rourke, keep the faith, okay. We’ll get through this . . . together.”
“Paul, I realize it probably doesn’t feel like it now, but you’re at a point where you can make a real decision about where you go from here. And trust me, these moments are rare. They’re like transient doorways that very occasionally open, then slam closed again as quickly as they appear. They’re usually only recognizable with the benefit of hindsight.”
G, like Jools, could see that Paul had a real but fleeting chance to make opportunity out of adversity.
“Well guess what old friend, you’re at the threshold of one of those doorways now. And I really think you’ve made the right decision to at least consider that CEO position I sent you,” said G.
“What did you think of it in any case? Of any interest?”
G was fishing, because he didn’t want to come across as a know-it-all who really didn’t know shit from clay. But at the same time he felt he understood Paul well enough to give him a gentle shove in what he regarded was the right direction.
“I’m here to tell you Paul, I’ve known you over thirty years and that job has your name written all over it. And just maybe if it landed in your lap, well, you can then give it serious thought as to whether you’re really ready for the change . . . and the challenge. It certainly wouldn’t be a walk in the park. In fact, you’d probably be under more stress with that job than you’re under at present.
“Remember mate, your future’s not predetermined. Instead, it’s fluid. Your destiny’s something you create from your actions today. And I know that your core values from way back when we were twentysomething-year-old radicals are still there even now, albeit a bit suppressed.”
“G, speak in plain language. If I want a philosophical bent on my life, I’ll read Deepak Chopra.”
“Okay, the job’s not forever, but it’s potentially a great halfway point while you assess your priorities. And with your banking and finance background, your contacts and your business knowledge, you’d be able to put these to unbelievably good use.
”I know you Paul, you’ve got that insight that can see through the bullshit, the corruption, and the scams. You could really make a go of this one and potentially make a huge difference to the welfare of people who aren’t as fortunate as us.”
“Yeah okay. I should throw my cap in the ring, just in case, as you say. I must admit, with all the crap going on with the impending collapse of Carlton, I’ve tended to shove a lot of things into the background.”
Paul became pensive. “Interestingly enough, what’s really been having an impact on my thoughts lately has been Rishi’s death. Remember, we even discussed helping the poor kid out before he died? So you could say that the underdog, the racist bit . . . yeah . . . it’s been playing on my mind lately.”
“Paul, just remember, your true feelings will come through in the voice of your words. So choose them carefully and speak from the heart. I know you can do it. It’ll just require a bit of a paradigm shift.”
“Sure G, easier said than done.”
“Just believe in yourself and go for it. And if the job falls through, you can at least say that you gave it your best shot. And then use it as experience for the next one.”
“Steve, don’t bullshit me. It’s Tony, okay? We’re not like the others. We can see the writing on the wall long before everyone else. That’s why we’re survivors. Just like those two beautiful cockroaches crawling across the ground over there, God bless them. Doesn’t matter what you do to them, unless you squash them, they always bounce back. So give me the real story.”
Steve had arranged to meet Tony in neutral territory. He had no intention of spending any more time with Tony than was absolutely necessary, so they were sitting outside a nondescript laneway café in the CBD. This would allow Steve to drop the bombshell he was about to cast in Tony’s direction, then leave immediately afterward.
But it wasn’t quite going according to plan.
For the second time in as many months, Steve was experiencing someone tell him he was full of shit. First it was Sean, who chewed him out in the board room that fateful Friday afternoon in December when the bank’s letter of rescission arrived and basically sealed the fate of the project, telling them that without alternate finance facilities their development was dead in the water, and now it was this uncouth upstart in front of him.
Am I slipping . . . losing the edge? Steve thought to himself. For the first time in many a year, he was doubting his ability to be the spin doctor he secretly prided himself on.
“Well Tony, as you’re no doubt aware of by now, the bank messed us around so much that we were left with no other alternative than to sell out to the Chinese. It was the only way we could save the project . . . and our backsides, I might add.”
After eighteen months of constant and at times clandestine negotiations, Steve had finally pulled his”China deal” off. Except given the desperate and immediate financial situation that Steve, Paul, and Sean were in, and by default their respective wives, as far as Steve was concerned this was the only way to avoid total financial annihilation.
“We’ve only got two options here,” Steve had told Paul and Sean despondently a few days ago when he was debriefing them about his negotiated China deal.
“It’s basically black or white—there’re no shades of grey here. We take the deal and walk away, with all guarantees covered and paid out in full by the Chinese, or we lose everything when the bank forecloses after Xma
s and the bailiffs knock on our doors at six a.m. one morning, demanding the keys to our respective houses.”
Steve’s partners were understandably distraught, but these were desperate times. In one foul swoop they were looking at potentially losing all their collective wealth they had built up over their working life together and then reinvested back into the Carlton development.
“Guys, there’s also an upside here. It’s not all as bad as it seems. I managed to negotiate a side deal.” Steve smiled, looking very pleased with himself as he threw in the sweetener he had saved to the end.
Paul and Sean had looked at Steve with interest, focusing on the possibility that the impending collapse of their project was maybe not going to lead to total financial annihilation for them after all.
“Depending on how well the remaining apartments in Stage One sell, if all goes well we should get most, but probably not all, of our money back as well, on top of the release of the guarantees.”
Steve was bullshitting of course. Well, not totally; there was a modicum of truth in what he was telling his partners. Yes, he had negotiated a side deal, but if Paul and Sean only knew, the odds were so heavily stacked against them and so well in the Chinese investors’ favor that it was more a case of his partners being thrown life jackets in a typhoon and hoping for the best. They would be lucky if they saw more than twenty percent of what they were actually owed when the takeover was all done and dusted.
But at least they wouldn’t be paying a visit to the bankruptcy court. And they would have their respective titles freed up on their houses.
Steve, now, he was meant to suffer the same fate as his partners. Except unbeknownst to Paul and Sean, he had negotiated a separate and second side deal with the Chinese: not only were all his guarantees to be rescinded like his partners, but there was a kicker that Steve had also made the Chinese include in the contract of sale. In exchange for effectively burning his partners, Steve would end up owning thirty percent of the whole project in his own right as a silent partner. But to achieve this Steve had to hand over both his equity and that of his partners to the Chinese.
The Cait Lennox Box Set Page 25
