Outback Sunset (9 page)

A similar arrangement wouldn’t suit her, Vanessa thought. When she married she would want to be with her husband every possible minute. As she thought that, Vanessa sucked in her underlip. That’s why she was here, taking up Kerri’s valuable time. She had an important matter to discuss and she had more than an inkling that her agent, and friend, wasn’t going to like the topic, not at all.

Finishing the call, Kerri put the phone down. ‘So,’ her dark eyes regarded Vanessa assessingly, noting her radiant expression, how relaxed she looked, but that she seemed nervous about something. She could always tell when Vanny was nervous. ‘What have you come to tell me that’s so important? I cancelled lunch at the Ritz with an important client, so it had better be good.’

Vanessa took in a breath and the words all came out in a rush. ‘Bren’s asked me to marry him.’

‘What?’ It took several seconds for Kerri to recover her aplomb.

‘He proposed last night, at the flat. Insisted that I not give him an answer straight away. Bren said I should think about it because there were quite a few matters to consider.’ Vanessa’s eyes widened as she
went on. ‘I didn’t get a wink of sleep thinking about everything, but,’ she smiled again, ‘I phoned him this morning and said … yes.’

Kerri shook her head, hoping that she hadn’t heard right. ‘Yes. You said yes? Are you out of your mind? You’ve got contracts, commitments for the next two years.’ She stared hard at the actress, disbelief glinting in her expressive eyes. ‘I suppose he wants you to live in some outback shack and to turn your back on your career. Have you any idea what you might be giving up, Vanny?’

‘We didn’t get into details but, yes, it’s natural that I’d want to spend a lot of time at Amaroo. I’ll commute back here and elsewhere for roles.’ She added succinctly, ‘Other actors and actresses around the world do so successfully.’

‘You’re kidding yourself if you think that will work. In three years, maybe less, backers, producers, directors will forget who Vanessa Forsythe is, and you know there’s a queue of younger actresses panting to step into the shoes you vacate.’ The stare she gave Vanessa was hard-eyed and business-like. ‘It’s quite possible that you and your career will fade into oblivion.’

Vanessa winced at Kerri’s frankness but, gathering confidence and determination, her chin jutted forward. ‘Well, I can’t expect Bren to give up his station and spend his time in London with me. That wouldn’t be fair and after a while he’d hate it.’

She had done a lot of soul-searching last night, getting little sleep and, as daylight had pushed through the bedroom window, her decision had firmed. Her career might suffer if she married Bren,
but what was she to do? Throw away the chance to be happy and fulfilled? After losing David she thought she might never find that special someone, but now she had. She would be a fool to walk away from him!

‘So my career may not reach the dizzy heights we thought it would,’ she rationalised. ‘Gran was the ambitious one in the Forsythe family. It was her encouragement that drove me to stretch my talents in a variety of roles.’ She threw Kerri a sly look. ‘Besides, I imagine that no matter where I live, if I have a good agent who knows my capabilities, I should get ample work in the industry.’

‘Don’t soft-soap me, Vanny.’ Kerri waggled a finger at her. ‘Experts have tried and failed.’

For twenty seconds or so, silence fell over the agent’s office. Vanessa checked her nails, fiddled with her hair, adjusted the folds of her frock, studied the photos adorning the wall again. There was one of herself as well as other famous faces Kerri represented.

Vanessa took a different tack. ‘I’m not getting any younger. I’ll be twenty-nine next birthday …’

‘Your biological clock is ticking over, is that it?’

Vanessa shrugged elegantly but didn’t give a straight answer. ‘I want a home, a family and, eventually children. It’s still harder for career women, and in most marriages she, more than he, does the compromising. If the trade-off for those things is that I surrender a chunk of my career, well, so be it.’

Kerri shook her head, her sigh long and expressive. She had never seen Vanny more
determined than she was right now. Perhaps the tragedy of David’s death was playing a part in what she wanted. Or, maybe she saw the idealistic picture of domestic life passing her by and she remembered too well how happy her parents had been and she dreamed of that kind of happiness for herself. She knew that because Vanny had spoken often of wanting a similar relationship with the man she fell in love with.

Personally, she had her doubts that someone like Vanny could find permanent happiness on a cattle station in the middle of the Australian outback. She would get bored and frustrated with the life in a couple of years but, for the present Vanessa believed Bren Selby could give her what she needed and, thinking fatalistically, who was Kerri to say otherwise?

‘You really want to do this?’ Kerri asked, her tone unusually gentle. ‘With all my heart.’

‘Then,’ grudging acceptance brightened Kerri’s voice. ‘I guess all I can do is wish you every happiness, luv.’

Vanessa gave Kerri a beaming smile. ‘Oh! I thought you’d try to talk me out of it. I was sure we’d end up having a big fight.’

‘I’ll be frank,’ Kerri’s reply was swift, ‘I can’t see it working, the two of you are just too different but you deserve your shot at happiness even though it might cost you your career.’

‘If I was with another agent I’d say it would,’ Vanessa agreed, ‘but I know that you’ll look after my interests, and while I will live in the outback,
there are planes, and communication devices. I still want to act and Bren agrees that I should. What it will take is organisation and planning, something,’ her brown eyes twinkled cheekily, ‘we know you excel at.’

Kerri nodded her dark head, silently accepting Vanessa’s compliment. ‘Speaking of which, you’ve got the part of Annie in the Australian movie,
Heart of the Outback
. They’ll be filming it next summer, their summer of course. Now, and depending on when you set the wedding date, I’ll try to juggle dates, postponements, cancellations etc,’ she grimaced. ‘No doubt I’ll have to pull in a few favours.’

‘Bren really has to get back to Amaroo, so I’m thinking two weeks from now. I’m free of commitments then and he’s suggested that we have a quiet wedding here then fly to Darwin a week later for an official reception at his mother’s home.’ Vanessa paused just long enough to let that sink in. ‘And because you, Yannis and Nick are the closest I have to family, I’m hoping that Yannis will agree to give me away and that you’ll all come to Darwin for the reception, my treat of course.’

‘Two weeks! I’m
thrilled
you haven’t made it too tough,’ Kerri muttered tongue-in-cheek. ‘The Spanos family accepts.’ She stood and moved around her desk towards the row of filing cabinets. ‘Let’s go through your file now, work out your commitments. See what we can get you out of without it costing you too much.’

V
anessa came out of the bathroom of the classy presidential suite, which doubled as the bridal suite at Darwin’s Novotel Atrium Hotel. She looked towards the bed. Bren was sound asleep. It had been a long day — going over the reception arrangements — and afterwards, cocktails at Bren’s mother’s home and dinner at a restaurant where she met the rest of the Selby family. The Spanos family, Kerri, Yannis and Nick, her only guests apart from Fay and Barry Whitcombe, were ensconced in the suite next to theirs — all was quiet in that direction so she assumed they had retired for the night.

She should too, but she was too keyed up. Walking onto the balcony she checked out the night view of Darwin. Still damned hot, even at 1.30 a.m. As she sat on the lounger and studied the lights she pondered over her reaction to meeting the Selbys. They were an interesting bunch. Vanessa enjoyed studying people — she believed it helped her acting by trying to figure out what and why people did what they did.

Hilary Selby was … she tried to conjure up a suitable description and the word
formidable
came to
her with ease. Instinctively she sensed a need to be on her guard around Hilary. In her mid-fifties, the chainsmoking widow was still an attractive woman but very possessive, especially of Bren. She had found Hilary’s expressions, at times disdainful, at times condescending, and the aura of tension she emanated towards herself and Bren had been palpable, telling Vanessa that Hilary was masking her true opinions. Deep down, her mother-in-law was not for the marriage and was accepting the situation because her son wanted it. But looking at the long term there was a large plus. Hilary lived in Darwin and, according to Bren, rarely visited Amaroo, something Vanessa believed she would be grateful for.

Hilary had organised the official reception details herself. A catered dinner for sixty people was to be held, at sunset in the garden of her home, with the tables scattered around the sides of the pool.

Vanessa’s thoughts moved to Bren’s sister. Lauren was married to Marc, an ex-patriot of the Ukraine. She came over as a nice person and their three sons were adorable. Marc managed the cattle station Lauren and Curtis had jointly bought with money inherited from their father. It wasn’t far from Amaroo Downs. Then there was Bren’s uncle, Stuart Selby and his wife, Diane. She had found Stuart a difficult man to talk to. Extremely wealthy, he was smug and arrogant and much too vocal about his wealth as if he enjoyed rubbing the other Selby men’s noses in his affluence. Something else too … During dinner she had detected that Stuart and Curtis, Bren’s younger brother, didn’t get on mainly because they spent most of the evening swapping sly
digs at each other. She wondered, albeit fleetingly, why they didn’t get along.

Curtis Selby was a complex, taciturn individual. She found him neither likeable nor dislikeable, though he had one point in his favour, a clear affection for his brother. Vanessa knew about his failed marriage. Bren had told her everything and she’d concluded that his sour attitude was caused by ‘life’ dealing him a cruel blow. She felt sorry for that, and that he appeared to exist in the shadow of Bren’s more friendly, outgoing personality. How she and Curtis would deal with each other when they were both living at Amaroo would be interesting.

Another guest, Nova Morrison, had caught her attentive eye during the evening. The young Australian-Asian woman was beautiful and, because she’d grown up at Amaroo, was comfortable with family members. Nova had accepted her as Bren’s bride without reservations which implied that in time, and if Nova remained at Amaroo, they might become friends. Just as well. She had the feeling that, initially, she would need all the friends she could gather to her.

Her thoughts turned back to Bren and she smiled in the semi-darkness of the balcony. Due to Hilary’s dictates, chores and wedding preparations they had scarcely had a moment to themselves since their arrival. As she rose from the lounger her smiled widened in dreamy anticipation. They were man and wife now and they would be together … always.

Memories are like snapshots in time
. Vanessa remembered her Gran saying that. As the sun slipped over the horizon and a brief twilight fell
across Hilary’s garden, she tried to capture and store the moment in her memory forever. Gifted with an abundance of fairness, she gave credit where it was due. Hilary had proven herself a superb organiser. Every detail: flowers, table decorations, scattered rose petals across the patio’s tiles and lawn, had all been executed with professional precision.

After Yannis made the official speech that welcomed her and Bren as a married couple, the celebration and congratulations began, starting with a few hundred coloured balloons being released from nets into the darkening sky. Coloured bulbs and fairy lights strung through the trees and shrubs were switched on. Champagne began to flow, hors d’oeuvres circulated and the four-piece band started to play. Vanessa knew that Kerri could find no fault with anything either but her agent wasn’t wrapped in their hostess and had been ready to pounce on anything that went wrong. Nothing did.

The weather was perfect, the food delicious and the guests were behaving congenially, until …

‘Sir,’ the head waiter came up to Curtis. ‘There’s a young woman at the front door. Says she’s a professional photographer. She’d like to come in and take photos of the bride and groom for a London newspaper.’

Curtis’s eyebrows shot upwards. ‘A London newspaper?’ He turned to Bren and Vanessa who were close by. ‘Vanessa, has UK media coverage of the reception been arranged by Kerri?’

‘Not that I know of.’ Vanessa searched among the guests for Kerri but couldn’t locate her.

‘I’ll check it out,’ Curtis offered and strode off.

He saw her waiting just inside the front door, her photographic paraphernalia in a black bag on the tiles next to her feet. His heart sank as he recognised her titian hair, the shapely figure and striking, well made-up looks. ‘Georgia.’
Damn
. ‘What are you doing here?’

‘Nice to see you too, Curtis. Trying to make a living, what else! I’ve just flown in from Singapore, en route to Sydney. I saw the notice about Bren’s reception in the local rag. I’m freelancing, as you know, and Vanessa being who she is in the United Kingdom, I’m sure I can sell the photos to
The Times
or
The Telegraph
. Good publicity for her and the Selbys.’

‘Really! I’d have thought the money you gouge out of me on a regular basis would have lessened your need to chase work.’ His gaze raked over his ex-wife with a mixture of dispassion, and, yes, he cursed himself as he admitted it, reluctant interest. In her scandalously brief miniskirt, high heeled sandals and a skimpy midriff top — all intended to show off her sleek, tanned body, she looked bloody fantastic.

‘Don’t start.’ Georgia Selby wasn’t fazed by the sarcasm in her ex-husband’s voice, the glacial gleam in his eyes. ‘It was a court decision we both agreed to abide by, for Regan’s sake.’

His expression and tone softened. ‘Regan, how is she?’ He wouldn’t see her for another five months, probably after Christmas. That was the deal they’d struck. He had his daughter for two weeks annually during the wet, but through his solicitor he had Georgia provide him with regular photos of her, and
copies of her school reports. Almost seven, Regan was tall for her age and had a mass of curly red hair, like her mother. The time they spent together, with him trying to cram a whole year’s love and attention into a fortnight, was not and never would be, enough.