Executive Affair (14 page)

Claire found it hard to stay focused for the rest of the day. She couldn't stop daydreaming, images of herself walking the crowded streets of Hong Kong never far from her thoughts. And Robert was going too. That brought images of a completely different, dangerous kind.

Fiona was duly impressed and envious.

‘You lucky thing! What's the weather like there at the moment?'

‘Dunno. Where's the paper? That should have the temperature,' Claire said, looking around the room and spotting the
Sydney Morning Herald
under the coffee table.

‘This is Saturday's temperature, but at least it'll give me an idea. Mmm … thirty degrees, eighty per cent humidity … and raining. What the hell do you wear in a climate like that?'

‘I've no idea. Lots of deodorant, I suppose.' Fiona was practical, as always.

Claire, sprawled across the couch, mentally went through her wardrobe.

‘I've nothing to wear. I'll have to go shopping to get some clothes. You know, Robert is going to be there as well.'

‘Are you buying new clothes to impress Robert Pozos?' Fiona asked, very quick to pick up on Claire's subconscious intentions.

Claire faltered with her reply. ‘I think I might be …'

‘I thought you didn't even fancy him!'

‘I know. But his charm has sort of crept up on me. Now I'm a nervous wreck at the thought of being in a foreign city with him.'

Fiona had been sitting on the floor. She stood up, her face serious. ‘I don't want to sound harsh, Claire, but the last situation you need here is the one you left behind in Dublin … Remember what it was like to work in the same place with Michael after you split?'

‘You're absolutely right. It's just a crush, that's all, and I'm quite sure it's not reciprocated. Nothing will come of it …' She gave Fiona a wry smile and changed the subject. ‘What are you doing after work on Thursday?'

‘You know I hate shopping … and I told James I'd meet him on Thursday night.' She relented at Claire's pleading look. ‘All right, I'll go shopping if you come for a drink with James and me afterwards.'

‘Okay, but I can't have a big night. I'll have a busy day on Friday, trying to get everything in order before I leave,' Claire said, frowning as she thought of all the work ahead of her.

‘You're not leaving for good, you know. It's only a week,' Fiona reminded her.

Claire left work early so she could meet Fiona at five. It wasn't fully dark yet and the mood of the late-night Sydney shoppers was upbeat. Fiona was not a patient shopper and was easily aggravated by any dithering on Claire's part.

‘If you hesitate when you buy, then that means you'll most definitely never wear it,' she stated, as she always did, whenever they were shopping, in case Claire should forget.

Claire suspected Fiona's advice was biased and knew she would happily skip the shopping to go straight to the pub. She found what she wanted within thirty minutes and with a minimum of fuss. She was happy with her purchases and Fiona was happy that the ordeal was over so quickly.

Claire's good mood evaporated when they walked into the Hero of Waterloo.

‘You never told me that Paul was going to be with James. Thanks very much,' she hissed to Fiona when she saw that James was not alone.

‘I honestly didn't know. James never told me. I'll kill him for this,' Fiona replied with gritted teeth as they approached their table.

‘I ran into Paul at Circular Quay and invited him to join us,' James explained, looking awkward.

Claire shot him a discreet but venomous glare to show him that she didn't believe a word.

‘I hope you don't mind … I felt like a celebratory drink. I had a big win at work today,' Paul said with an engaging smile.

Claire couldn't bring herself to lie and allowed Fiona to reply, ‘Of course we don't mind.' She resisted the temptation to ask him about his ‘big win'.

‘Did you girls have a successful shopping expedition and blow those credit-card limits?' James asked, trying to lighten the atmosphere.

‘You must be joking, not with Fiona counting every minute, her tongue hanging out for a drink.'

Claire's acerbic response made the others laugh, even though Fiona tried to look offended. James stood up with his empty glass.

‘Can I get you a beer?' he asked Claire.

‘No, thanks, big day at work tomorrow … I'll have an orange juice, though.'

‘I'll have a beer,' Fiona said with zeal.

‘Tell me something I don't already know.'

They all laughed again; Fiona didn't even attempt the offended look.

‘Are you looking forward to your trip to Hong Kong, Claire?' Paul asked. ‘James told me you were going,' he added when he saw her quizzical expression.

‘I can't wait. It's an important tender for Amtech. It sounds as if it will be hard work and long hours but I still feel as if I'm going on a holiday.'

‘Who's the deal with?' His question was so natural she almost answered it without thinking.

‘You know I can't tell you that,' she said, with a small smile to take the bite from her words. She saw Fiona from the corner of her eye, watching them both with interest.

‘It's evidently a big tender if the company is willing to fly people up from Sydney. The pre-sales costs must be enormous,' he persevered.

‘Paul …'

He heeded the warning in her voice and leaned back in his seat. ‘How will Amtech Australia survive without you for a whole week?'

She couldn't tell from his face if he was being sarcastic or not.

‘I'm sure I'm dispensable, just like everybody else,' she replied, giving him a defiant look.

James returned, leaning between Claire and Paul to put the tray of drinks on the table.

To her surprise, the initial tension dissolved. They had another round of drinks before moving to the upstairs restaurant for a leisurely dinner. Claire was taken aback to see it was midnight when she checked her watch.

‘I hate to break up the party.' She stood up to leave. ‘I have to get up early tomorrow.'

‘Hang on, I'm coming too,' Fiona said, finishing her drink in a rush.

‘You don't have to come. I'll make my own way home,' Claire protested.

‘You're not the only one with a busy day tomorrow!'

When they went outside, James and Fiona walked ahead to get a taxi.

‘It's good to see you again,' said Paul. ‘You're looking really well.'

‘Thanks.'

They were underneath the Harbour Bridge, the steel clacking as a train went over their heads. They walked further down the Rocks, past bars that were still full, music and voices spilling out.

‘You may be interested to know that Digicom won the Queensland government deal. We signed the contract today.'

So that was the ‘big win' he was talking about.

‘Congratulations … Frank never said anything about us losing.'

‘Oh, the news is hot off the press, I'm sure he hasn't heard about it yet,' Paul responded quickly. ‘Look, I'm sorry about that day in the office, you were right to do what you did.'

He was referring to the day she had escorted him and James to the foyer. That seemed like a long time ago now.

‘What were you doing there on a Sunday afternoon anyway?' she asked.

‘I was bored. I don't have a girlfriend to distract me any more. I have too much time on my hands for hanging out with James … and I'm hoping you'll feel sorry for me and take me back.'

‘Sorry, Paul. I'm happy with the way things are.'

‘It was worth a try.' His shrug was nonchalant.

Claire was piqued by such a lazy attempt on his part to
get back with her. She was about to take him to task when Fiona secured a cab further up the street and shouted at her to hurry up.

The doctor had a strong face, chiselled cheekbones and lips. Her tan was faint enough to look healthy and her clothes were sober to prove her mind was on the job. Julia relaxed; she always felt at ease with females who were not better-looking than herself.

Dr Linda Stearman came well recommended by a friend of Cherie's. Julia had gradually warmed to the idea of seeing a shrink and was hoping this session would give her some badly needed clarity. Some days her head hurt so much she couldn't think clearly, half-formed murky thoughts about herself and Robert and their future never making it to the surface.

Linda smiled, looking up from her notes. ‘Okay, Julia. I need to start off with some standard questions about your family and medical history. Are your family living here in San Jose?'

‘No. They're in San Francisco.'

‘Do you keep in contact with them?'

‘Not much. My mother is rather overbearing. I can't meet
my father without seeing her so I tend to keep my visits to a minimum.'

‘Do you have any siblings?'

‘No.'

‘Do any of your family members have medical problems? You know, drugs, psychiatric, alcohol, suicidal tendencies …'

‘No, nothing like that.'

‘How about you? Have you ever had psychiatric treatment before today?'

‘No.' Julia looked straight at Linda, not even flinching as she lied. She was an accomplished liar.

‘Ever been in hospital?'

‘Never. I'm very healthy.'

‘Do you drink?'

‘Yes.'

‘How much do you drink?'

‘Not much.'

‘How many days a week do you drink?' Linda had noted Julia's red eyes and the tremor in her hands.

‘Look, I don't have any problems with alcohol. I can give it up whenever I want. Can we move on?' Julia's smile didn't take the edge off her words.

‘Are you sleeping well at the moment?'

‘Reasonably.'

‘Is your appetite normal?'

‘Yes.'

‘At any point in your life have you ever felt so bad that you wanted to kill yourself?'

‘No.'

Linda sensed rather than heard the hesitation in her response.

‘Who do you confide in?'

‘My friend, Cherie. She's the one who dragged me here today. She's waiting outside like a worried mother.'

Linda smiled. ‘Anybody else you talk to?'

‘No.'

‘Tell me about your husband, Robert.'

‘What would you like to know?'

‘Where you met him? What attracted you to him?'

‘I met him at a company function. If you saw him you would understand what attracted me – he's very handsome, powerful … most women would kill for a husband like him.'

Linda noted the jealous tinge to Julia's laugh.

‘Do you have children?'

‘No, Robert isn't the fatherly type.'

‘How do you feel about not having children?'

‘It doesn't really bother me one way or the other.'

‘Why did you marry Robert?'

‘Because he asked me … most women wouldn't turn down a man like him.' Julia laughed again.

‘How about your sex life?'

Linda was relentless and Julia was starting to tire from the endless questions.

‘It hasn't been as active lately as it was at the start. Robert has been working long hours.'

‘Do you ever take the initiative in sex?'

‘Yes, sometimes.'

‘How long have you been married?'

‘Over a year.'

‘Tell me, what do you think is wrong with your relationship?' Linda asked, sitting back in her seat, abandoning her notes. She looked at her new client steadfastly. She strongly believed that eye contact encouraged truthfulness. She couldn't figure Julia Pozos
out. All her answers to the diagnostic questions were negative but there was clearly something wrong. She was an attractive woman but Linda could see that she was taut with tension. The groomed, well-dressed look was spoilt by the unhappy aura, the red eyes, the hands she couldn't keep still. Linda suspected she had an alcohol problem but acknowledged to herself that Julia was not going to admit it at this session. Maybe she would be able to get it out of her after a few consultations.

‘He loves his work more than me.' Julia knew she was embellishing the truth but she didn't want Linda to think she was totally pathetic. The truth was that they'd never had a cosy relationship. They'd had a passionate affair, a quick marriage and he'd held himself aloof from that point onwards. She knew that his dedication to work was the symptom rather than the cause but she didn't know how to explain that to Linda. The doctor had a wedding band. She had photos of her children and husband on her desk. She wouldn't be able to understand a woman who wasn't as secure.

‘How hard have you tried to increase the quality time you spend together?' Linda asked. She registered Julia's confusion and rephrased the question. ‘How persistent have you been in making an effort with the relationship?'

Julia thought about the question carefully and her answer was slow but at least honest.

‘Maybe I don't try hard enough … You see, Robert can be very abrupt and preoccupied. When he's like that I tiptoe around him until I think he's in a good mood again. Sometimes a whole week might pass before I could approach him about something quite minor …'

Linda watched Julia's face, the hurt and insecurity written across it. She watched her hands, fidgeting, shaking.

‘You seem almost intimidated by him,' she said quietly.

‘Yes, I often am … but not because he yells at me or anything … It's because he sometimes acts as if he can't stand to be around me,' Julia admitted weakly.

‘Have you tried to be more assertive with him, to demand his time, to demand his attention and love? Instead of shrinking away if he is in a difficult mood?'

Julia shook her head.

‘Have you ever said anything to him when he comes home late?'

Again, Julia answered by shaking her head.

‘You seem to have difficulty expressing yourself. You should try to find your voice in this relationship. It's your life too, you should have a say in what happens.'

‘But I've been married before!' Julia blurted.

‘And?'

‘He left me.' It still hurt to admit it.

‘What went wrong?'

‘He woke up one morning and decided he'd had enough.'

‘How did you cope with the grief of losing him?'

‘I got through.' Julia shrugged.

Linda saw raw emotion on her face.

‘Do you think there are any similarities between your first and second marriages?'

Julia was a little annoyed that she had to spell out the obvious. ‘Maybe that I'm not very good at keeping the men in my life interested.'

Linda smiled inwardly. A breakthrough. Some truth at last. Julia had a dependent personality; it was something she could work on.

‘Julia, you seem to have very low self-esteem. Forget the first
marriage. It's over; there is nothing you can do about it. Inject some sparkle into this one. Don't be afraid to argue in order to get your own way every now and then. Try to be stronger with him.'

‘Okay, I will.' Julia gave her a tentative smile.

‘I'll be honest, Julia. I think there is a lot of ground that we haven't covered today. This was almost like a “getting to know you” session. There are other issues that we must discuss. Things we must talk about frankly. I don't think you've given much away and I can't help you until you feel confident enough to tell me the truth. I have to wrap up now as I have another consultation but I would like you to book a session with my secretary before you leave.'

Time was up; there was a large clock on the opposite wall that Linda could look at discreetly. It wasn't good to check your watch in front of patients who were paying exorbitant fees for your undivided attention.

Julia left Linda's office feeling positive, hopeful. Maybe next time she would tell her a few more truths – like the breakdown after Josh – to see what advice she would have to offer. The doctor was well worth the huge hourly rate and with Robert away she could see her without being secretive.

Cherie was reading a magazine in the waiting room.

‘How did it go?' she asked, looking up anxiously. Over the last few weeks she had been gradually increasing the pressure on Julia to get some help. She'd even gone as far as making today's appointment.

‘She told me that I possibly wasn't trying hard enough for Robert's time,' Julia answered, looking happier than Cherie had seen her for some time. Cherie didn't quite understand the
doctor's response but it obviously made great sense to Julia.

Julia paid the bill and made another appointment.

‘Let's go for a drink,' she suggested as they went outside.

They had originally planned to go for a meal. Cherie didn't want to encourage Julia to drink but she acknowledged that it would be a long road to recovery and Dr Stearman was only the first step. She followed Julia into a margarita bar on South First Street.

‘I just need to be more confident,' Julia said, sliding onto a barstool before Cherie could suggest sitting somewhere more private. ‘I need to call Robert at work more often, insist that we meet for lunch, make sure we take at least one holiday a year. I have allowed work to take over his life by being too meek. That's what's been wrong. Do you know he has been in Australia six weeks and I've only called him twice? The time difference has made it hard to contact him, admittedly, but for the most part I feel I'm intruding when I call him. I'm his wife … I have a right to call him.'

Cherie remained silent. She had expected that Dr Stearman would show Julia the huge cracks in her marriage and help her to realise that she needed to stop drinking before it was too late to make amends with Robert. Instead Julia was filled with optimism, believing that all she had to do was demand more of Robert's time and everything would be okay. Either Dr Stearman was bad at what she did or Julia had put her on the wrong track.

Julia didn't want to go home to an empty house too early and she persuaded Cherie to stay out later than she intended. Cherie knew that Julia was desperately lonely, this probably being her only evening out in weeks. She called Wayne from the pay phone by the ladies'.

‘I'm going to be later than I thought,' she shouted down the
phone over the din of the loud music and raucous voices.

‘Okay, okay, I can hear you!' Wayne's voice was very faint. ‘Stay as late as you want … I was talking to Robert …'

She didn't hear the last part of his sentence.

‘What did you say?' she yelled.

‘I was talking to Robert … he told me that he …'

He continued to talk and she heard him mention Julia but she couldn't follow what he was saying.

‘Sorry, honey. I can't hear a word … I'm going now … I'll see you later!' She hung up with a crash.

Wayne grimaced as he put the phone down. He was glad she hadn't heard him. He had regretted saying it almost immediately. He got the impression that Robert wanted to keep the divorce as quiet as possible and he had nearly blundered by telling Cherie, who would have told Julia for certain.

Cherie was sitting on the fence between Julia and Robert. She felt sorry for Julia and was stupid enough to believe she could reform her. And she was very fond of Robert and didn't want to see his second marriage end the same way as the first. Cherie was too naïve to see that her efforts were wasted: Robert and Julia had been doomed from the start.

‘Can I buy you lovely ladies a drink?' It was another drunk businessman who thought that two attractive women sitting alone at the bar must be easy prey. That made three such offers they had received so far.

‘No, thanks,' Cherie declined politely.

Julia didn't even look in the man's direction. She had chosen the seat because it meant she could get served faster, not because it was a good spot to pick up men.

Cherie thought that some of the men who had approached looked decent enough but Julia was totally dedicated to Robert and the possibility of another man didn't even enter her consciousness.

‘Eric's my name.' He stuck his hand out. Cherie felt sweat on his palm.

Julia continued to ignore him. She was ordering three drinks to Cherie's one.

‘Do you ladies work around here?'

Julia did but she wasn't listening. Cherie was getting angry with her for leaving her to deal with him on her own.

‘No, I don't. I'm a housewife,' she said pointedly.

Eric eventually took the hint and left them alone.

‘Julia, I really have to go home. Wayne will be getting worried.'

‘Okay, okay. I'll just have one more …'

Julia made eye contact with the barman and he produced another margarita before Cherie could protest. She drank it in one go. Cherie felt sick watching. Tears were close. She had been looking forward to a nice evening away from anything domestic. But there had been no conversation after the first thirty minutes, only with the various men who had tried to pick them up. Now she just wanted to go home, back to the comfort of Wayne and the kids.

‘Lucky there's a taxi rank down the street. We shouldn't have to wait too long for a cab,' she said as they went outside, her voice strained.

‘I've got my car, silly. I don't need a cab.'

‘You can't drive! You've had far too much to drink.'

‘For Christ's sake, Cherie, stop fussing. It's only a fifteen-minute drive and I'm perfectly in control.'

‘You may think you're in control but I've seen what you've had to drink. You're way over the limit. Come on, get a cab with me,' Cherie pleaded, grabbing her arm and trying to steer her in the direction of the taxi rank.

‘I'm fine.' Julia shrugged herself free and walked away before Cherie could protest any further.