Last Day in the Dynamite Factory (33 page)

‘Leave it,' he says. ‘It's over.'

She gives him such a disbelieving look he's suddenly put in mind of Shakespeare's Shylock:
If you prick us, do we not bleed?

‘Over?' she says. ‘I'm not a switch you can turn on and off. You tell me not to ask who you had an affair with, why you lied about it, why you suddenly want more in bed – as if it's not bleeding obvious – why you've suddenly had it with restorations and why you committed us to a new mortgage. Don't ask, Diane; just take it. The problem is, Christopher, I can take only so much. If you want me to sign my life away on land I've never seen there are things I have a right to know, including who you slept with and why you lied. And until you tell me, I'm not signing a blasted thing.'

It's barely six and not yet fully light but there's no point staying in bed. He's hardly slept for thinking about the land and Judge giving him the Montville job. Beside him, Diane blinks blearily. He suspects she slept no better than he did. He goes to the kitchen, makes a pot of proper tea and brings her back a cup. She accepts his gesture with a nod, but accompanied by a pursed look that suggests if he thinks tea in bed is sufficient to change her mind about the land, he can forget it.

He gets to the office early.

Straight away he senses something different … Yes, Doris is missing. There's a round mark on the carpet where the gnome normally stands. Chris is contemplating its fate when Maureen arrives.

‘You're early,' she says.

‘Yeah. What happened to Doris?'

‘Gone.' Her face is tight.

Great. Another pursed female face.

‘What happened?'

Maureen drops her handbag on the desk. ‘I don't know, Chris. Seems like there's been a lot going on around here that Hamish, Mick and I don't know about. Not that it's any of our business – we're just the ones trying to keep things going while you and Judge lock horns.'

‘What's wrong?'

‘Judge sacked Tabi.'

‘He
what
?'

‘They had a row. Roger Noland complained he hadn't received the revised plans and Judge accused Tabi of not posting them. He called her a slack bitch. She produced the receipt to prove she had and called him a fucking tyrant. He said the only people fucking in this office were you and her, and it had obviously fucked her judgement.'

‘Oh … shit.'

‘Judge told her to pack up and get out. Ordered me to write her a cheque. I refused. So he wrote it and jammed it in her handbag. Next thing she was gone. Took Doris and that was that.'

‘Bloody hell, Maureen – what next?'

He goes to his office and picks up the phone. Tabi's answering machine takes the call. ‘Ring me,' he says. ‘Home, mobile, any time.' He hangs up and presses Judge's number, then stops. Not yet. Think. He takes Maureen a cup of coffee.

‘I'll fix it,' he promises. ‘I'll get her back.'

‘I wouldn't blame her if she didn't come. Judge is … he's not Judge.'

‘I know.'

‘And you're not much use these days, either. The place is falling apart.'

‘No,' says Chris. ‘It's not going to. I won't let it.'

He sits at his desk, tapping a pencil. Something has to change. Baillieu & Bright have the best staff in town – they can't risk losing them. He'll have to spend more time in the office, at least until Judge can be relied on to behave less unpredictably.

He picks up the phone.

Karen says Judge is in the shower but she's glad to have a word. ‘I'd like you to change your mind about doing heritage work,' she says, ‘if only for a while. Even just for Hamilton House. Judge has enough on his plate without having to cope with the fallout.'

‘Everyone is having to cope with the fallout, Karen, and I'm sorry, but the answer is no. I'm not putting my life on hold again. We have to find other ways of doing things and we will, but right now Judge isn't helping. He's a Molotov cocktail. Stroke or no stroke, he can't go around sacking valuable and loyal staff who—'

‘Not so loyal, from what I heard.'

‘What you heard is not your business.'

‘It is my business. Tabitha was just as much Judge's employee as yours. She has an affair with her boss, a married man who happens to be my husband's partner and best friend – how do you think he feels?'

‘What he
feels
is irrelevant. He's not my moral guardian.'

‘Don't be so pompous. Don't you care?'

‘Of course I care! He's my best friend. Every time he opens his mouth and people can't understand him, I feel terrible for him. I know what it's like.'

‘And do you know what it's like to find out your best friend is having sex with two women when you can't even have it with one?'

‘Huh …?' Chris's eyes widen. ‘What … do you mean?'

‘You know what I mean.'

‘I don't … I didn't.' He yanks on his ear.

‘Please, Chris, try to be kind.'

‘Yeah … I – I'm sorry, Karen. I didn't know.'

He puts the phone down and stares at it for a moment, then rummages in his drawer for Violet's phone number.

Hugo answers.

‘I'm glad I got you,' says Chris. ‘Can you put on your doctor's hat for a minute?'

‘For you?'

‘No. For a friend.' Chris explains about Judge's stroke and its aftermath.

‘Well,' Hugo says, ‘I can't say for certain without seeing him, but it's not uncommon for left side hemiplegia to affect erectile and ejaculatory function. Not the urge for sex, just the ability. It normally fixes itself after a few weeks but sometimes not, in which case anxiety is usually the problem. Everyone's different though, Chris. This isn't a diagnosis, just a guess.'

‘I understand. Thanks, Hugo.'

So. No wonder Judge is behaving like a prick, especially with Tabi. His doesn't work.

Mick and Hamish have arrived and are sitting, arms crossed, staring at blank computer monitors.

‘Morning,' says Chris. ‘Hamish, can you do me a favour and go to Montville? Judge, ah, made a mistake yesterday and sent me. A reno. Could be interesting.'

‘I'm not going anywhere until Tabi comes back.'

‘Me neither,' says Mick.

‘I'll get her back,' says Chris. ‘What—?'

Mick is unwrapping gum and cramming it into his mouth. Two green sticks. His eyes water with the effort, a sight so affecting, Chris's eyes water in sympathy.

‘Hamish, please, mate. Just go. I'll get her back; I promise.'

By the time Judge arrives at ten, Hamish has gone to Montville and Mick has ditched the gum. Geared for a fight, Judge looks taken aback when Chris suggests coffee. The cafe is crowded but Chris nabs a table against the wall and orders two long blacks. While they wait, Judge strangles his ball.

‘I rang you this morning,' Chris says mildly, ‘about Tabitha. Maureen told me what happened.'

Judge says nothing.

‘We can't let her go, Judge. She's too good at her job and she's done nothing wrong. You need to get her back.'

Judge sweeps his head in a wide arc of refusal.

‘If you don't, we'll lose them all. I'm serious. They've had enough.'

Judge gazes mutely at the street. Chris tries to imagine what he's thinking. ‘What happened was not Tabitha's fault,' he says. ‘It was mine.'

Still Judge says nothing.

‘Karen told me about … I'm sorry, mate. I didn't know. You've pulled up so well since the stroke it never crossed my mind. I wish you'd told me.'

Judge turns to the waitress as she brings their coffee. He picks up his cup and blows on it, takes a careful sip. ‘Would it have stopped you fuckin' her if you'd known?'

Chris sighs.

‘You're an arsehole, Bright.'

‘So are you, Baillieu.'

‘Yeah, well,' mumbles Judge. ‘I suppose two arseholes are more useful than one.'

Chris stirs sugar into his coffee. ‘About Tabi?'

‘Bugger Tabitha. I don' care. Do what you bloody want.'

‘Ben rang this morning,' Diane says, rinsing their wineglasses.

‘Oh?'

‘Nothing urgent. He just wanted to let you know he won't be around for a few days. Something about a woodworking course.'

‘Coffee?' Chris waves a mug.

She shakes her head. The phone begins to ring and both of them glance at the clock. Nearly ten.

‘Bright,' Chris answers cautiously. He listens for a moment, then his face softens. ‘I've been trying to reach you all day. I'm so sorry about what happened.' He listens and winces. ‘Don't cash the cheque, Tabi. I've sorted it. Yeah.' He pauses. ‘They know, but they don't care. In fact, they're so much on your side they're on strike till you get back … No, he'll be okay.' Chris's voice drops to a low murmur. ‘You
must
come back. I'm not kidding – the others will leave if you don't. Sleep on it if you must, but I'm not letting you go.'

He hangs up and sighs. ‘Fingers crossed,' he says to Diane.

‘Tabitha,' she says.

‘Yes, thank goodness. I've been trying to get her all day.'

‘I'll bet you have. It's her, isn't it? It's her you had sex with.'

Heat rushes to his face.

‘Of all people.' Diane prowls the kitchen as if she can't decide what to grab or hit. ‘That giddy, high-heeled, gum-chewing praying mantis, why
her
? Oh, don't bother denying it,' she says as he gropes for words. ‘You and your damn truth – it goes straight out the window when it suits you. Why didn't you have the decency to admit it was her in the first place?'

‘I wanted to protect her.'

‘From what?'

‘From this. Exactly this.'

‘God almighty,' says Diane, raking her fingers through her hair. ‘Why
her
?'

Chris says nothing.

‘Tell me!'

‘Because she wanted me.'

Her eyes widen. ‘You have an affair with someone simply because they
want
you?'

‘She wanted me, like you don't.'

She stares at him. ‘How dare you? I've done everything I can to keep our marriage intact. Everything I can think of, short of wiping your backside, and I'd do that if I had to.'

‘I know you would, Diane. You'd
do
anything. But what do you
feel
?'

‘Fed up! That woman has to go. It will never work for us while she's working for you. She has the cheque. Let that be the end of it.'

‘It is the end of it, but I'm not letting her go. We need her.'

Diane stops circling the kitchen. ‘Then you don't need me.'

Chris puts his hand on her arm. ‘This isn't a competition between you and her. It's a problem between you and me.'

She picks up the dishcloth and begins circling the bench.

He grabs it and throws it into the sink. ‘Stop with that bloody cloth for a moment. Look at me.'

She stares at his chin.

‘What do you feel for me, Diane?' He draws her, resisting, towards him. ‘Tell me. You won't let me touch you, except in the dark. Do you want me at all?'

‘No.' She pushes him away. ‘I don't. Right now, I don't want you at all.'

He looks at her and nods slowly, then lifts the cloth from the sink and hands it to her. ‘Yes, that's what I thought.'