 
### Table of Contents

Title Page

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Also by R.J. Boyd
The Hidden Letter

A Romance of Fate and Destiny

R.J. Boyd

This is an IndieMosh book

brought to you by MoshPit Publishing

an imprint of Mosher's Business Support Pty Ltd

PO BOX 147

Hazelbrook NSW 2779

https://www.indiemosh.com.au/

Copyright 2020 © R.J. Boyd

All rights reserved

**Licence Notes**

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**Disclaimer**

This story is entirely a work of fiction.

No character in this story is taken from real life. Any resemblance to any person or persons living or dead is accidental and unintentional.

The author, their agents and publishers cannot be held responsible for any claim otherwise and take no responsibility for any such coincidence.

Cover design and layout by Ally Mosher at allymosher.com

Cover images from Adobe Stock and Envato Elements

# Chapter 1

Her heart felt as dark and despondent as the skies she walked under. Relentlessly down came the rain. Suzanne walked mechanically, defiantly, one step after another, not knowing where she was going or where she'd end up. She was oblivious to the wailing ambulance racing to a nearby accident, oblivious to the postie on his motor bike delivering mail in the street, and oblivious to the snarling dog shoving its ugly head through the fence in her direction. She was oblivious to everything, except for the pain and torment which was exploding inside her. How long she'd been walking, she did not know, she had no watch. Time measured in minutes or hours was irrelevant. Only her body clock would be able to tell her when enough, was enough.

Jack was in love with her best friend Jenny. Their twenty year marriage was over, betrayed by a double whammy. Sure, she would get over it, but all she had to do right now was to keep walking. The oppressive weather was perfect, it blended with her psyche, and the rain washed over her body to dilute her misery and drain it away. Soon she would be saturated to the skin and would really feel the cold. Only then could her whole body shiver to throw off the gloom which had taken hold, but until that happened, she had to keep moving and keep the anger flowing, even if that meant walking until she dropped.

Jack had practically been her entire life, but now that he had betrayed her, she could never trust him again and never take him back. In the process though, he had robbed her of something very precious, her best friend Jenny. Her betrayal truly hurt. A man ... well ultimately he could be replaced, after all she was still an attractive and vibrant woman, but how do you replace your best friend, the one who knows the true intricacies of how you really tick?

Short of being hit by a cement truck, there wasn't much that could have distracted Suzanne from her mindset, but the brilliant and jagged lance of lightning which thrust itself out of the ominous rolling clouds, had the same effect. It riveted her in mid-gait, tensing her body, widening her eyes and forcing a hand to her open mouth as she automatically started to count the seconds. _One Mississippi ... Two Mississippi ..._ The thunder came out of nowhere, with no gentle rumbling as a forewarning. It cracked the sky wide open with a tumultuous blast loud enough to shake graves six foot under and wake their dead.

Suzanne jumped sideways, stifling the scream in her throat, and feeling her bladder waver nervously as the ground beneath her steadied itself against her fidgeting feet. "Bloody hell!" she exclaimed out loud. Instinctively she parted her thighs to look between the legs of her jeans, aware of a moist warmness, to check her crutch for spots of urine. She straightened up, laughing at her ludicrous behaviour. Her clothes were soaked from head to toe. No one would know if she had just peed her pants, it was like peeing in the ocean for goodness sake. But the warmness was still there, and the guilty look was no doubt still on her face.

Why hadn't she seen that guilty look on Jack or Jenny's face? They had been going at it now for well over twelve months. Was she that blind, or so naive and trusting that she simply took everything for granted? Oh what a fool she had been. And what sort of a fool must she look like at the moment, devoid of any wet weather gear, saturated to the bone and walking the streets like a stray dog. If only she could only shake herself, and for that matter, where the hell was she anyhow? That thunder clap had proved to be the catalyst that she needed. It had shocked her system and snapped her back to reality. The numbing coldness of wet clothing on her skin was now suddenly apparent, and her shivering body was telling her it was time to go home.

Hastily she turned, shoving her feet into another gear and pushing forward, battling headlong into the lashing force of the storm's fury, as the heavens opened and the rain bucketed down. It was then at that very moment that she remembered Troy's letter, the only one she'd kept from so long ago. It had been too precious to burn with all the others. Perhaps it was the reflex action, of squinting into the driving rain with the associated senses of lightning flashing and thunder rumbling which twigged him to her memory. Or perhaps it was the burning sting of the rains golf ball impact on her face which acted as the prompt, but for whatever the reason, the emotional warmness of his words in that letter, now had a soothing effect upon her. _"I will always love you, no matter what. One day we will be together again."_

How could she still remember those words twenty years later, and why should 'love' mean anything to her at all after this episode of betrayal? Was it the association of her husband's betrayal which now had her thinking of Troy? She in her own way had also betrayed Troy all those years ago, rejecting him by choosing to share her life with Jack instead. Troy had been wounded and badly hurt at the time, and then, just like now on a carbon copy day such as this, she had walked the streets to gather her thoughts. Was this some sort of cosmic payback for that rejection, with accumulated interest? If Troy had felt half the amount of torment and pain which she had in the past week, then surely now the debt would be squared away.

Suzanne changed direction, to enter her street with the letter box of her house clearly in sight. The ninety degree change allowed the wind to throw her sideways, causing her to constantly zigzag in an attempt to correct her alignment. The new direction also allowed the rain to slam into the side of her face, to drill into her ear and block its canals, to further disorientate and confuse her sense of balance. Defensively she pulled the collar of her jumper up to cover the side of her head, and with a fixed determination to get home, peered straight ahead with her eyes locked onto the front door.

It wasn't as if she hadn't kept tabs on Troy. For a couple of years she had discretely kept track of his movements, and always roughly knew of his whereabouts and what he was up to. It was only after she'd heard about his whirlwind romance and marriage to an American lass sometime later, that she was finally able to let go of the past, to then settle down and accept her lot with Jack. Jack wasn't stupid though. He was aware she had cut Troy loose in favour of himself. He would have suspected at the time that she was still carrying a flame for the guy, but he would never have suspected that she'd kept a letter of Troy's all these years as a security blanket, as a reminder to herself of the fantasy of a lost love. On the day she'd heard that Troy had married, she had hidden that letter in the ceiling of their family home, its contents not to see the light of day, until today.

Suzanne stepped onto the front veranda, kicking off her sodden shoes, her heart pumping with a renewed vigour which had more to do with anticipation than strenuous exercise. It seemed as if there was no time to waste. It was as if a mystery had to be solved, a treasure had to be found ... and she had the map. Unlocking the front door, common sense told her to take a long hot bubble bath, but the little girl inside her screamed in defiance, compelling her to secure the prize first.

Hastily she removed her wet clothes, dumping and leaving them miserable on the cold tiled bathroom floor. Snatching up her bath towel, she patted herself dry, then snuck naked into the bedroom, to ferret out and throw on a daggy old set of fleecy-lined trackies, faded red woollen socks and an equally mottled pair of preloved runners. Now at least she felt comfortable and warm again. With no time to waste, she twirled her scapula length blond hair into a bun, securing it with a terry towelling scrunchie, twisting it once, then twice, before tossing her head from side to side to road test its holding ability. "The epitome of glamour," she chuckled out loud, with hands on hips, legs parted, and twisting her torso with her eyes fixed upon the full length mirror, to admire the figure that even with ratty clothing on, did her justice.

The ladder was in the garage, she had seen it yesterday. The torch was in the pantry cupboard and the manhole to the ceiling was in the hallway next to the laundry. All that was left to do now was to shove her butt into gear and embark upon this adventure. Scaling the ladder a few minutes later, she could feel the adrenalin pumping through her system. She felt the thrill commensurate with that of an undercover agent on a covert operation, to 'get in, get the information and get out.'

Lifting the manhole panel above her head, she slid it to one side, and then tentatively peaked above the ceiling line into the darkness of the cavity. The sound of her own heart pumping in her ears overrode the roar of the rain on the corrugated iron roof, and just for a half minute or so, she stood there on the stepladder with her head in a black hole, neither moving up nor down, but letting her anxieties quell and her eyes become adjusted to the dark. Maybe she had watched too many movies, but to hell with it, if Jack walked in and questioned what she was doing, then she was checking for leaks, and not retrieving a secret which she had kept from him for twenty years. Anyhow, she no longer had to answer to Jack.

Tenuously, she raised herself up into the darkness of the cavern to secure her footing, and then fumbling for the flash light down the front of her zipped up top, extracted it and flicked on the switch. A laser type beam bored into the darkness, to cut a corridor down the length of the roof cavity. Its path was interrupted by the amber military uniforms of radiator pine trusses, but its peripheral glow settled on a silent-sea of sulphur-yellow fibreglass bats, to leave an eerie impression of another dimension.

She still felt rattled. Nothing moved. It felt as though she were in a tomb of the letter's eternal resting place, and it would be sacrilegious to disturb it. But no, she had placed it here for safe keeping, and now she was claiming it back. Stealthily, she duck waddled her way across the supporting beams, balancing by hanging onto the dry dusty trusses, whilst congratulating herself on having listened to her little voice in the first place, by not having a bath prior to this adventure, as she would surely need one after it. The letter, well she knew exactly where she'd hidden it. X marked the spot. And there it was in red texta, still well preserved after twenty years.

She positioned herself beside the marked truss, and slowly lifted the fibreglass insulation bat. It was still there, still wrapped in a plastic bag and taped the way she had left it. Well, why shouldn't it be? Holding the torch between her teeth, she lovingly picked it up, stroking off the debris and dust to view through the clear plastic covering. The sight of his handwriting sent goose bumps up her arms to tingle the back of her neck, and the added enforcement that this letter was addressed to her brought with it mixed emotions. It was the reality of past feelings, and the possibility of rekindled ones to come. 'Get in, get the information and get out.' It was time to go.

~ ~ ~

She had propped the letter up on the vanity shelf in the bathroom, in full view of where she now lay in the bathtub where a quiet reflective calm had engulfed her body. Aromatic essential bath oils intoxicated her senses with all the beautiful images of their association, and the shoulder depth hot water soaked away the muscular weary traumas of the past week. There was a certain childlike innocence associated with a hot bubble bath which smelt like security, and right now, she needed that feeling.

She had resisted the temptation to open the letter right away. She needed to feel a build-up of that expectation, by letting her head get carried away with all its romantic connotations. If anything it felt like foreplay, and once the letter was opened and read, the act would be over and the feeling would be gone. She had to stay psyched-up and keep her spirits high. There was no way that she would allow herself to slide backwards again, to wallow in the pit of despair which had been brought on by Jack's betrayal. She had to keep this ball of fantasy rolling, and right or wrong, she would track Troy down and make contact with him. She would play her hand and let the chips fall where they may. She had nothing more to lose.

~ ~ ~

Wasn't it always the way though, to settle into something you've really looked forward to, like reading this letter or watching a good movie on television, when the phone rings or someone knocks on the front door. "Who the hell could that be?" she muttered out loud, automatically tucking the letter away, to be out of sight from what could potentially be prying eyes. She had only just sat down, only just pulled the letter half way out of its envelope after having teased herself to the point of no return. To have this interruption now simply wasn't fair, not after all trouble she'd gone to, to orchestrate the mood for herself and to savour the moment. The gas heater was glowing, the curtains were drawn, soft music was playing nostalgically in the background, and she'd curled herself up on the two seater with a blanket over her legs, the soft glow of the reading lamp looking over her shoulder, and a glass of wine on the coffee table beside her.

Feeling somewhat cheated she opened the front door. It was Jenny's husband. He was drenched, even though he'd only dashed the short twenty odd metres from his car to her front door. He looked sullen and dejected, and although he was taller than her, he still somehow managed to look up at her with those sad basset hound eyes. Droplets of rain dripped from his hair onto his forehead, to form little rivulets which flowed over his eyebrows to drip onto his eyelashes. It caused him to blink profusely, and to wipe his brow with the sleeve on the back of his arm, with an action similar to that of a small child wiping their nose. It gave the illusion he'd been crying, which he probably had. He was not an emotionally strong man. Some would no doubt call him a wimp.

"Oh John!" she remarked sympathetically. "Come inside out of the weather."

The rain continued with its onslaught, and although its violent rage had moved further north, it seemed as though there was to be no end to it. The gutters overflowed, sloshing torn sheets of water up under the eaves, to be whipped and slashed, then catapulted by the swirling winds to splatter across the veranda and drape around her legs. She didn't need this, she'd already awarded herself a purple heart for her time in battle. Closing the door, she gestured for John to stand in front of the gas heater and then slipped into the kitchen to make them both a hot coffee. All was silent until she reappeared and passed his cuppa over with a thin smile.

"Jenny may have had a change of heart," he said without expression. "She said she's hurt us both really badly and wished the situation had never happened ..."

Suzanne listened. If there was one thing she was good at, it was listening, but the disquiet she could now feel rising within herself, troubled her deeply. She was always listening to others, but hardly ever it seemed, to the wisdom of her own little voice. That little voice was now screaming at her to pay attention, telling her that she wanted nothing more to do with Jack or Jenny, telling her that she was now free and that she wanted it left that way.

"Now this is all out in the open, she wants to spend some time alone with herself, to find out how she truly feels."

Yeah right, thought Suzanne, that little tramp had cheated on him consistently through their entire marriage. She wondered if she should say something, but that would probably make John feel worst, and she didn't want to become embroiled in any more drama. She liked John as a friend, after all, he was the husband of her ex-best friend, but with all his shortcomings he was still a human being with feelings. No! Betrayal wasn't her forte. Too many others had dibs on that title.

"And how do you feel about that, John?"

It was a leading question, which in hindsight she wished she hadn't asked, but what else could she do, the guy was here to spill his guts. He wasn't the heroic lateral thinking sort of a guy who could walk with the forces of nature's fury, to purge the torment out of his system as she had done. No, he was the blubbering kind. Not that Jack would ever understand her methodology of madness either, but at least Jack wasn't a blubberer.

For all intents and purposes, she may as well not have been in the room. She was simply a sounding post and a sympathetic ear. The sad part about this whole debacle however, was the fact that no matter what she said to John, she knew that in the end, he would take Jenny back anyhow. She found herself wishing he wasn't here and that he'd hurry up and go. His whingeing and whining, although justified, was all becoming too much and his bouts of sobbing seemed never-ending. She didn't know how long he'd already been in her lounge room pouring his heart out, it was probably only ten or fifteen minutes, but in all reality it felt more like an hour, and the best she could do was to try and sidetrack her mind.

It had been Troy who had taught her that little trick of walking with nature's fury. He was a spiritual soul, and if he could teach her something like that, then what else had she missed out on along life's journey. This was an easy question to ask in hindsight, but at the time, it all seemed to make sense. She had passed Troy over all those years ago, because he was a free and restless spirit pursuing the adventure of life. Jack was the bricks and mortar man with his feet firmly planted on the ground. He had a business, he was dependable, he owned worldly goods and chattels, and most importantly, he conformed to society's standards. According to her father, the choice was easy. Suzanne crossed her fingers, and hoped to god that Troy hadn't changed one little bit.

"Look John, you have to do what is right for you," she interjected, determined for self-preservation reasons to terminate both their miseries. "What has happened has happened, and you can't change that fact, but you can change the way you look at things."

"You don't seem that upset, Suzanne."

"I have been, believe you me, but I've since painted another picture in my mind which doesn't have Jack or Jenny in it."

She knew John wouldn't have a clue what she was talking about. It was a time-acquired art which she had mastered, and of course, full credit also went to Troy for that enlightenment. She needed for John to go, and made up some lame but believable excuse about having to see her solicitor. Her apology for cutting him short came with her assurance that they would catch up for coffee later on in the week, but she didn't have the heart to tell him that they wouldn't be staying in contact, due to the fact that he also wasn't painted in her new picture.

Alone at last, she settled back into the couch. John had reinforced in her mind, that for her at least, there would be no retreat or no surrender. He could cry into his milk until the cows came home, that was his choice, but she was not going to have any part in it. Perhaps she was in denial right now, but she had no intention of forgiving either one of them. And now, with a dampener put on her previous mood, she pulled out her reading glasses and opened Troy's letter.

Dear Susie,

To have not written you a letter of bon voyage would have seemed vindictive of me, and would have no doubt been hurtful to you. I say bon voyage, instead of goodbye, because you are going on an adventure and shall one day return.

I make no apologies for being the free spirit that I am, and I do understand your heart's choice of where you are at the moment. I release you unconditionally, hoping that your adventure never ends and that it is everything you wish it to be.

I believe that life is a series of intersecting circles which connect the past with the present and the future. There is no doubt in my mind that we will meet and love again. We are both of the same spiritual essence and searching to discover who we are, but for the present time we are locked into different earthly soul assignments.

Sometimes a love comes along that just feels so right, and you know within your heart that it's meant to be. This is how I feel for you. If in twenty years from now, you realise 'the essence' which is missing from your life to make you feel complete, then your heart and soul will guide you to me.

I will always love you no matter what. One day we will be together again.

Soulfully yours,

Troy.

Suzanne whipped off her glasses. _"A love that feels so right." "One day we will be together again."_ Oh god, how those words hit the spot. They were emotionally comforting with a flavour of hope and destiny. She felt an internal warmness spread throughout her body as she dragged the blanket up around her neck and shoulders, to then rest her head back onto the lounge for support. Instinctively she held the letter with both hands to her chest, as though maternally securing a child, and just for a moment or two closed her eyes to drown in the surreal magic of the moment, as memories of yesteryear came flooding back.

A short time later, she opened her eyes to look at the date on the letter. It had been twenty years and two weeks since Troy had written it. She smirked to herself. Yeah that'd be right, she finally gets her wakeup call and then misses out by two weeks, rejected by a technicality with the statute of limitations on romantic fantasies having ran out, and now he was off the hook. The wakeup call however did feel timely in its origin. It did feel like this twenty year adventure with Jack was over, and that now because of his betrayal, she had been granted permission to leave. _"Your heart and soul will guide you to me."_ The words were beautiful and conjured up images of a quest of the spirit to be with its destined soul mate. Perhaps it was her fertile imagination, but the letter and the events of the last week, seemed to have the flavour of destiny and the smell of star crossed lovers smudged all over them. But this was Troy's charisma, and his words were the spiritual lure which was now pulling at the chords of her heart.

She got up to wander around the room for a bit. All this psychological speculation and the dredging up of yesteryear's memories were beginning to wear her down, leaving her with the feeling as though she was trapped in some sort of a time warp. Those university days had been the best years of her life. They were where she had met Troy in the first place, and where she had spent many a weekend away with him on his parent's property in the bush. His parents had genuinely liked her very much. They were obviously disappointed when things didn't work out between the two of them, however were considerate enough for her happiness upon her marriage to Jack, to send a tasteful wedding present along with Troy's blessing. It did seem a little ironic in the end however, that Troy had married an American and settled in his native Australia, whereas she had married an Australian and relocated to live in America.

Drawing back the heavy curtains, she peered out the window to observe that the rain had eased considerably. The sky still looked dark and foreboding, and she was unsure if this was because of the cloud density or the illusion of pending nightfall, but just for a few seconds, a shadow of that darkness crossed over her mind. She was still married to Jack and bound by the vows of marriage, but she was having serious thoughts about cheating on him with a former boyfriend. Did that make her as bad as Jack? Perhaps it had been her fault that Jack had had an affair with another woman in the first place, even if that woman had turned out to be her best friend. Maybe Jack deserved a second chance, after all it did take two to tango.

Suzanne opened the front door. The atmosphere inside the house had suddenly become suffocating with self-persecution. Stepping out onto the veranda, she squatted on her haunches to prop her back up against the brickwork beside the door. Side tracking her mind, she listened to the now gentle rain rhythmically pitter-pattering on the roof, and watched with childish delight as leaves on an Oleander shrub flinched and wavered joyfully in nature's game of dodgem rain drops. No, she'd had done nothing wrong. She shouldn't feel guilty, or remorseful, or forgiving. To hell with it all. She would go home, back to visit her mother in Australia. That would get her far enough away from the drama which was unfolding around her, and when she got there and the dust had settled, then she would track Troy down and see where that journey led her.

# Chapter 2

Wow all of a sudden five days had passed, and with her visa application rushed through, here she was standing with bags in hand at the end of her driveway, waiting for the taxi to show up to take her to the airport. Since his revelation of infidelity, and the subsequent argument which had seen him move out of the house to stay in a hotel, she'd had no desire to communicate with Jack at all, and had deliberately screened all calls to her mobile and house phone. She had no intention of being caught off guard, or tricked into taking a call from him to listen to his pathetic excuses, so had let her voice mail answer all his incoming calls. He had rung a total of eight times in the past four days, with four of those being yesterday. He would know that she was going away, Kylie would have told him. She had rung her daughter and only child, the same night she had decided to visit her mother in Australia. Kylie had not been impressed with her father's behaviour at all, and was pleased her mother had decided to get away for a while.

Jack of course at this stage would be concerned. With her refusal to talk to him, he wouldn't know what she was thinking or planning, or be able to foresee what would happen next now that his and Jenny's dirty little secret was out in the open. She would be very surprised though if Jenny would stand by Jack, even though their affair had been going on for well over twelve months. She knew Jenny's modus operandi only too well. She'd been Jenny's confidant, the keeper of her secrets for far too long. "Take a walk on the wild side," Jenny used to say. "Nothing wrong with a little harmless fling. It adds a bit of spice to your life." Her rules were simple, the main one being that the fling was always with a married man, preferably one with children, as they had the most to lose. That was her safety net for escape, so that when the adrenalin stopped pumping and the fun was over, she could simply walk away without any fear of incrimination or retribution, to go back home and get bored with hubby again until the next adventure came along. The thing is, nobody was ever supposed to get hurt.

Jenny's infidelity was pure deceit and not to be condoned, and as her best friend, she'd been guilty of covering for her on more occasions than she cared to remember. But that had all stopped the day Jack overheard a conversation between the two of them over a couple of glasses of wine. He had twigged to what was going on with Jenny and her little games, and from that moment on, there was always an undercurrent of cryptic sexual bantering occurring between the two of them. It was now clear in hindsight, that at that point, the writing was already on the wall, but she just couldn't see it, or if she did, then she was in denial and didn't want to acknowledge it.

If Jenny allowed him to, John would take her back, there was no question or doubt about that, but that wouldn't stop Jenny from continuing to play the game as she always did, with fiendish delight and without a conscience. Surely Jack would have twigged to her games by now, and even though their affair was out in the open and he had proclaimed his love for her, surely he must have second thoughts surrounding her sincerity and commitment to him. Thank goodness the taxi would be here within five minutes, then she'd be out of here and geographically away from his clutches, and wouldn't have to be confronted by any of his pathetic lies or excuses for what he'd done. The thought didn't even have time to go cold.

Jack the Jackal roared down the street and swung into her driveway. The car had barely stopped its momentum by the time he'd alighted, tossed his sunnies onto the dash and slammed the car door shut behind himself. His body language expressed the frustration and anger which he was obviously feeling.

"Why didn't you return my phone calls?" he demanded, taking the offensive.

All at once she could see everything so clearly. The body language, the demanding forceful words and a demeaning tone. This arrogant display of behaviour was consistent with the way he reacted to his guilt. How many times had she seen this in him before? A cold shudder of despair passed through her body. She glared at him without expressing any emotion.

"Why didn't you ring me back Suzanne?" he asked again in a much softer tone. "And why are you running away?"

"You are in no position to demand answers from me mister," she replied coldly, turning to take a step towards the street, to look both ways before twisting around again to face his glare. "And you have no right to look at me like that! I have done nothing wrong."

Her eyes were defiant and unyielding, their icy blue centres clearly portraying the betrayal she was feeling.

"Look, I'm sorry Susie. I don't know what else to say. Can we talk?"

"I'm not ready to talk. You go talk to that slut."

A smirk appeared on Jack's face. What was it about the word 'slut' that amused men? Why did they always grin when they heard that expression? What was the damn secret? Her blood began to boil.

"You find this amusing, don't you?"

"I made a mistake. I said I was sorry."

"Being sorry doesn't cut the fat, Jack."

Suddenly Jack's body language changed, as a sense of urgency swept over him with the arrival of her taxi. He needed to know that she would weaken and reach some sort of understanding about their situation, just to ease his mind before she left the country. She intended to give him no such pleasure.

"I don't want you to go," he uttered, moving closer within her comfort zone, to be cut short by her raised hand.

"Well I don't want to stay."

"I still love you Susie," he said grabbing at straws as the taxi reversed up the driveway.

"But you're not in love with me Jack, and there is a big difference."

"I didn't say that."

"You didn't have to. Your actions speak louder than your words."

She knew her sentiment had cut him deeply, and just to demonstrate how hurt she was feeling, she picked up her bags and dumped them like garbage into the boot of the taxi, to then slam the lid shut.

"I have to go," she said, beginning to move.

Jack stepped into her path, reaching out his hand, but no being stupid enough to touch her.

"I'll ring you."

"Don't bother. I won't take your calls."

"If you're not back within a week, then I'll have to come and see you. We need to talk."

"I won't be back until I'm ready, and judging by the way I feel right now, it will be only to settle our financial affairs."

Now that was a low body blow. Money and business were Jack's passion and therefore also his weakness, and she knew only too well the financial affairs of their corporation. She was the financial controller and the accountant of the business, and had been since the inception of the company in Australia so long ago. Their computer support business was worth millions.

Suzanne opened the taxi door, anxious to get in and close off the physical space between them, anxious to get away in case her emotions weakened and she lost the advantage of being in control. She would not give him that satisfaction.

"Can't we get beyond this?"

He was desperate for a sign from her. The threat of financial compromise had been raised, and now he was concerned.

"We can get a divorce."

She slammed the door in his face, knowing that she had just stuck the knife into his belly, and the vengeful smile on her face was a payback for the slut smirk, so now she felt even. Buckling up her seatbelt, she asked the driver to give her a minute as she lowered down the door window to stop Jack's persistent tapping. His face looked really drawn, and at the point of admitting defeat.

"Maybe you should exact your revenge by sleeping with someone else, then we would be square."

This was obviously the last card in Jack's deck, and a morally corrupt one at that. It was time to twist the knife.

"Maybe I will, but not with your best friend. Think of me in Australia darling, I have some friends who go way back, and one in particular who would be more than delighted to renew acquaintances."

She watched his brain tick over for a couple of long seconds, before seeing her missile hit its target. She took sadistic pleasure in watching the blood drain from his face, and seeing the weight of his bottom lip dragging his chin down to leave his mouth agape. He hadn't forgotten. She signalled for the driver to go, and as the car idled to life and started to move away, she locked onto Jack's remorseful eyes to throw him a conciliatory word of cold comfort.

"Anyhow, you still have Jenny to keep you warm."

The taxi pulled away, leaving Jack standing in the gutter displaying the features of a vagrant stripped of all possessions. His body, with shoulders slumped, remained stationary and seemingly unable to move. His face was contorted with anguish, his eyes suppressed emerging tears, and as the taxi swung out into the street he vainly attempted to wave goodbye. She suspected that he was overcome by the emotion of knowing that through his actions, he'd not only just betrayed his wife, his family and his business partner, but he'd also betrayed and lost his best friend.

# Chapter 3

The thrust of the engines glued her to the back of her seat, as the huge passenger aircraft propelled itself along the runway. Then defying gravity, it lifted and climbed into the clear blue sky, listing in a gentle arc and searching for the corridor that like a homing pigeon, would take it home. She hadn't cared that much for air travel in the past, as the majority of it was work related, but this flight certainly had an element of excitement and pending nostalgia surrounding it. She tried not to think about Jack, or her marriage, but the conspicuous absence of her engagement and wedding ring brought the reality of the situation constantly to the forefront of her mind. It only seemed appropriate to remove them. It was a symbolic gesture of strength on her part, and although the circular white mark of where they'd been on her finger were evident, they would fade in time, and so too would her emotional wounds.

The sixteen hour direct flight from LA to Sydney would be her transition time between the reality of the two worlds, and she had no intention of spending this vacuum time analysing the moral pros and cons of what had happened. To avoid that, she would take a sleeping tablet, recline her seat as far as it would go, and using her jumper as a pillow, would rest her head against the window frame to catch some shut eye. Waking up from a drug induced sleep with a sore neck, twisted back and a numb butt, was far better than the sleep deprivation of constantly being awake to jockey for a more comfortable position within a confined space. Travelling economy class for such a long haul flight was truly inhumane. If she hadn't been so keen to get away, and could have waited an extra twenty four hours for the next flight, she could have travelled first class as she normally would to take advantage of all the luxuries it offered for a relaxing trip. But she'd chosen not to, and was now paying the price for that rash decision.

~ ~ ~

Upon arriving in Sydney and entering the terminal's processing facility, she was self-conscious of standing out in the crowd. Everyone it seemed had someone accompanying them, or someone excitedly waiting for them. She had no one, and she wanted it left that way. She wanted this to be her own adventure, wanted it to be a journey where she was guided purely and simply by what fate may happen to place in her path. And being content to travel light, she only had two pieces of luggage to contend with, a small backpack which she had carried onto the plane, and one medium sized travel bag which had been checked-in before the flight and was now waiting to pick up off the carousel at the baggage reclaim area. It meant she wasn't restricted by large physical items, and could deposit her luggage in a station locker anywhere in the city, and have the freedom to spend the day walking around the shops unencumbered if she wanted to. However, deciding it would be more prudent to spend the day at her mother's house recuperating from the flight, by lounging around in the sun, reading a good book and dozing, she'd ended up taking the elevator down to the station platform below the airport, to catch a train into Central station.

If Jack knew or could see what she was doing now, then he would surely be shaking his head. It always irritated him that she liked to travel on trains. His logic was that they had bags full of money, so why not travel first class and be chauffeur driven around. Money was not the point, but Jack couldn't see that. There was no hurry, and no real effort or inconvenience involved in catching the train, besides, she loved the hypnotic motion and stress free surroundings of this mode of transportation. There was no congestion, blowing of horns, abusive driver behaviour or road rage to contend with. Anyhow, her mother lived only five hundred odd metres from Turramurra station, so it just seemed so practical and convenient to hop on a train.

Of course central railway station was always alive with people no matter what time of day it was, and with its atrium being underground, it did have that feeling of being central and vital, almost as if it were a heart pumping the blood of life off into all the arterial directions, to then have it returned by the venous system to complete the loop. She loved that analogy of liking the railway system to the human body, and loved that feeling of being shunted around. She could almost hear the voice of the driver saying, 'next stop is the pinkie finger ... followed by all stop on the left arm line.'

It was with that silly thought in mind, and whilst moving towards the atrium with everyone else who'd alighted from the train at Central, that she first felt the physical disorientation. Stepping aside from the crowd, she supported her weight against one of the structural pylons, and took a couple of deep controlled breaths, to let the sensation of light headiness pass. Jet lag had always affected her badly, and now her system was short-circuiting and letting her know it was winding down. Oh god, suddenly she felt so woozy. Perhaps her immune system had also been compromised with the last week's stressful events and she had picked up a virus, which on top of everything else was making her feel like this, but for whatever the reason, she was within striking distance of her journey's end and had to keep moving. Taking her time, she followed the tunnel to its end, to enter the huge underground atrium with all its noisy hustle and bustle of people rushing about in every direction. Another fifty metres on, she came to the long stairs leading up to the platform of the north shore line, and with the use of the handrail for support, climbed the steps all the way up to the station to wait for her ride.

Of course she was aware that her train, the 11.05am, was gliding down the track, and she knew she really shouldn't have been standing so close to the platform's edge, but feeling the way that she did, she wanted to get onto the train quickly before everyone else, so that she could get a seat and collapse into its welcoming arms. The thought of standing for the next thirty minutes of the journey seemed unimaginable, and as unimaginable as it was, it certainly wasn't her intention to have a giddy attack just as the train was approaching either. Perhaps though, that giddy feeling which caused her to waver, had something to do with the suction effect of another passenger train rocketing by on the adjacent track, or perhaps it was the hypnotic luring of her skirt flowing in that direction which caused her to overbalance, but for whatever the reason, she couldn't help herself from falling forward.

Her woozy movements no doubt looked like a fainting attack to the dozens of passengers standing close enough to observe what was going on, but from her perspective it was so much more than that. It was a near death experience which she could see and feel so clearly, and it all seemed to be happening in slow motion. She saw the terror in the train driver's wide bulging eyes as his mouth dropped open, saw his facial expressions change as his brain realised the pending crisis, and saw the time delayed inevitable split second it took for him to slap on the emergency braking controls. She also clearly observed the shock horror expressions on the platform passengers faces as she twisted and crumbled with a forward momentum, to totter precariously on the platform's ledge. And although she could hear no audible sound coming out of her mouth, she was well aware of her own voice screaming out hysterically inside of her head, pleading for help, pleading for someone to clutch her extended hands.

She didn't see the powerful arm that shot out of nowhere, to lasso her around the waist and jerk so fiercely that it expelled every molecule of air from her lungs. The force so great that her head whiplashed violently forward, to catapult her scapular length hair over her shoulders, to lash against the driver's window and toss out her metal hair clip. The next thing she was aware of, was that she was lying flat on her back on the platform, sucking and gasping for air with her knees pumping at her chest. A large rugged man with piercing eyes and yesterday's stubble on his face stooped over her. His hands were clamped tightly around her calf muscles, as he exerted and released bodily force to her internal organs in an attempt to manually facilitate her breathing.

All at once it became so clear, and tears welled into her eyes with the embarrassment of her situation. She was lying on her back in a public place with an audience of onlookers. Her legs were spread in the air, her skirt was up around her neck, she was practically naked from the waist down and there was a man towering over her. Her modesty had been totally compromised. The only redeeming feature which flashed through her mind, was that her knickers were relatively new, clean and without stains, their colour still quite vibrant, the elastic taunt and they fitted snugly. Surely that must account for something.

The strong in-control man still hadn't spoken, but he looked decidedly flushed and bashful as he lowered her legs to the unforgiving cement. His eyes flashed over her exposed body before letting them come to rest on her face. A thin empathetic smile of understanding crossed his lips, as he reached forward to secure her skirt, to then drape it protectively over her hips and thighs.

"Thank you," she squeaked, unable though to tear her gaze away from his almost sad, but certainly compassionate eyes.

For a few long seconds all was calm. She felt under his control, somehow needing his permission as her first-aider, before being able to move. That permission came a few breaths later with him extending his hand in her direction. She accepted, levering herself up into a sitting position, only to grimace sharply with discomfort.

"Oh my God!" she gasped. "I feel like my ribs are broken."

The big man began to chuckle. He threw his free arm around her body, to scoop her up off the platform and onto her feet, to then support her sluggish walk to a nearby station bench seat.

"Grumbling is good. It means you're alive."

Hunched over and supporting her ribs, she also felt the infectious release of tension as she too began to giggle. With genuine appreciation, she reached out to secure his nearby hands with both of hers. They were definitely manly, thick and firm, the palms calloused, the fingers cracked with their nails chewed back and their cuticles torn.

"I owe you my life," she said with sincerity. "How can I repay you?"

Lovingly she caressed the hands which had saved her. Hands that could save a life should be better looked after then this, they should be kneaded and massaged with oil. But these were not the hands of a surgeon. These hands revealed the man for who he was, and for what he did for a living. These hands belonged to a man from a different walk of life than what she was used to, the clerical pseudo-professional male with soft poncy palms, manicured nails and undamaged cuticles. All at once she despised those soft white hands and the men who hung from them. These hands definitely felt good. They belonged to a man's man, and her body was tingling. They had sensitivity and she could sense them coming alive. She could feel the heat and moisture they were giving off with the excitement of her gentle touch.

It was with the awareness of her surroundings coming back, that she suddenly realised how quiet it had become. The platform was now pretty well vacant and preparing itself for the next time-table of travelling commuters. And with all the witnesses to her incident having left a couple of minutes ago with the last train, there was now no one left on the platform to point a finger in her direction or to gossip about. For all intents and purposes it was as if the event had never taken place at all, and the silence now seemed deafening. Smiling, she raised her head to look him squarely in the eyes.

"How can I repay you?" she repeated softly.

He had obviously churned the question over in his mind, and although he had an answer, it appeared to be stuck in his throat to rise and fall with his Adam's apple. He looked extremely awkward, which totally contradicted his stature. She couldn't imagine this man being afraid of anything, but he was. Moisture and heat continued to pour out of the palms of his hands, dilated veins protruded prominently on his forearms, the pulse in his neck throbbed, his face was flushed and perspiration glistened on his brow. Somehow though, the breaking of his eye contact to look down at her hands gave him the courage he needed to speak.

"I notice you're not wearing any rings, but I can see the fresh signs of where they have been. Does that mean you're not currently in a relationship?"

"I'm sort of in suspended animation," she responded honestly.

"Well, if I'm not treading on anyone's toes, then you can repay me by going out to dinner with me ... just the once."

"I don't even know your name."

He flinched, raising his head apprehensively to look upon her face. He spoke with a thin nervous smile which left his bottom lip slightly trembling.

"My name is Justin."

A smile grew across her face. This man had just saved her life, and all he wanted was the courtesy of her company for one evening only. He hadn't asked for her phone number, or her address, so the paranoias of any ongoing emotional harassment or stalking were not an issue. She didn't have to say yes, but there was a strong, unassuming, respectful and trusting quality which oozed from this man's persona which felt so good and so right.

"Hi Justin, I'm Suzanne, and no, you're not treading on anyone's toes. I'll take you out for dinner. It's the very least I can do."

His shyness quickly disappeared, being replaced by a confidence at her acceptance of his dinner proposal. He smiled broadly, chuckling with a cheekiness that lit up his face and puffed out his chest.

"What! What's so funny?" she asked.

"Well in hindsight, seeming I've already had you on your back, I think it would be proper that I take you out to dinner."

She started to giggle. He had just confirmed the larrikin within him which she had suspected.

"Then it's agreed," he said, fidgeting through his wallet to extract a business card. "This is my mobile number, give me a ring later on this evening and let me know of your plans. I'm pretty flexible."

She took the card, acknowledging where his finger was pointing, to then scrutinise its content.

"You're a consultant horticulturist, is that right?"

"Yes, it's the current occupation which suits my lifestyle."

"That doesn't sound too committed."

"Don't get the wrong idea. I like the satisfaction of being outdoors and working with my hands and all, but there's more to life than just work."

"Sounds like there's a bit of a restless spirit within you."

"You're probably right. Sometimes I feel incredibly restless, and I do like the flexibility that comes with my job to be able to take time off as I choose."

A ripple of goose bumps rose over her body, to rush up the back of her neck and flush her face with colour. For some reason his comments made her think of Troy and his letter, and just for a couple of seconds she was in another world of distraction.

"Are you all right?"

His question came with a look of genuine concern on his face that maybe she was about to faint again.

"No, honestly I'm okay. My mind just wandered off onto another track, that's all."

"Well if you're concerned about having another mishap with a train, that's not about to happen," he chuckled. "Not on my shift anyhow."

She looked at him quizzically yet again. What was that comment supposed to mean? That he was the self-assigned protector whilst she was in his company? That was the way Troy would talk, and in that moment she found herself wondering if Justin was the sort of bloke who could walk in violent storm with all of nature's fury.

"Here's the next train out of the city," he commented, looking beyond her and down the track.

Taking control and automatically assuming she would follow his lead, he assisted her to rise to her feet, whilst at the same time picking up her luggage.

"Have you just flown in from LA?" he asked, noticing the airline tag wrapped around the handle.

"Yes. I'm holidaying with my mother. She lives in Turramurra."

"Nice suburb. I live in nearby Hornsby, but I do a lot of work in that area and a lot of repeat service calls. As a matter of fact, I've got four seasonal calls to do in the Turramurra area this afternoon."

"Perhaps you've worked on my mother's place. She had a lot of landscaping done a few years ago."

The train glided to a stop, suspending their conversation as the hydraulic doors automatically opened and the passengers spilled out. The whole time, she was aware of him standing so close to her that she could practically hear his heart beating, but was oddly unperturbed by his proximity. If anything, she felt comfortable and somewhat secure in his presence.

"I'll know when I pick you up."

She turned her head sideways to look at him, as her feet automatically stepping forward into the carriage in response to his guiding hand in the sway of her back.

"Know what?" she asked

"I'll know if I've worked on your mother's place."

"How would you know? I mean, with all the work you must do, surely you couldn't remember one job from another, particularly after such a long period of time."

"I know my own style of work, and besides, I always try to leave my trademark. I like to plant two peppercorn trees, one in each corner of the backyard."

"You mean a little bit like Johnny Appleseed and his planting of apple trees."

"Yeah, something like that," he chuckled. "But my trees produce clusters of little green and red berries and have a very strong aromatic essence as their signature."

Suzanne ascended the stairs to the upper level. She was conscious of her skirt swaying back and forwards, and conscious of the fact that he was climbing the stairs right behind her. The thought excited her. She threw herself into the nearest seat facing in the forward direction of their travel, to then slide over to the window, before turning her attention to the grinning hunk who dropped down beside her.

"What do you do in LA?"

"I'm an accountant for a computer support corporation."

"Sounds exciting. Are they doing well?"

"Financially they are in great shape."

"So your job's secure, and you get to visit your mother for a holiday. That's got to be a good thing."

"Well ... no, my job's not secure. The corporation could be about to go through a rationalisation process. It may be subdivided and broken up into little pieces to be sold off."

It was weird that she should be talking like this. It was almost as if she was willing it to happen. Jack's infidelity had precipitated the thought process, and as she wasn't about to forgive him or take him back, she could easily pull the plug on its operation if she wanted to. She legally owned half the business, and could retire more than financially comfortably for the rest of her life.

"Well change is also good. This could be a sign for you to move on."

She couldn't argue with that piece of philosophy. She did feel restless, and had felt this way ever since her walk in the violent storm and the recovery of Troy's letter. Everything was churning over in her mind again, to become a mishmash in her brain, and she had to apologise to Justin for her lack of concentration. She blamed it on jet lag and the sleepy hypnotic motion of the train, and for the rest of the journey they only engaged in a limited amount of small talk.

She said her goodbyes to him in the aisle, insisting it wasn't necessary for him to do the gentlemanly thing and carry her luggage to the carriage doors. She also thanked him once again for saving her life, and before moving off, gave him her assurance she would ring later this evening. And with an encouraging backward glance of genuine appreciation, she disappeared through the open doors, stepped onto the platform, and turning her back on the departing train, walked the other way. 

# Chapter 4

Her backpack was light and her small suitcase came with wheels and a handle, so there was no great effort involved with its transportation. The five hundred odd metre walk to reach her mother's house would be a breeze, and it would give her a chance to unburden some of the things that were on her mind. The best she could analyse at this point of time, was that she was faced with moral dilemmas only, as nothing else had drastically changed.

As far as Jack was concerned, she had only one of two choices, either to forgive him, or not to forgive him. People had affairs every day. So what was eating away at her insides so badly, that she was prepared to destroy the very fabric of what they had built together? As far as Troy was concerned, his letter was real, but its existence provoked a memory of the fantasy of lost love. She could burn it, and then its existence wouldn't be real any more. Justin however had saved her life. He was real, with a spiritual essence which reminded her so much of Troy. There was a spark and she was attracted to him, however with one dinner date, her debt to him would be squared, and then she could walk away with her conscience free.

The problems seemed obvious. She had three powerful emotional forces playing tug of war with her heart. First, there was the man who had let her go to discover who she was. Second, there was the man whose life she had shared for the past twenty years, and now thirdly, there was the man who had just saved her life. If she was going to be true to herself, then she must open all the doors and take a good look at what existed behind each of them.

Before she realised how long she'd been walking, Suzanne was on the veranda of her mother's house. The front door key was in the place where her mother said it would be, the same place it always was. She suspected that her mother never removed it, always leaving it there knowing that both she and Jack, or daughter Kylie would often turn up unannounced. Jack of course, when travelling alone, preferred to stay in hotels in the city, as this suited his business need of being close to their Australian headquarters, but because she was the only child, she preferred to spend this quality time staying with her mother. And with the trips being so frequent, her childhood bedroom remained as it had always been for her to use at any time. It was a comforting thought knowing her wardrobe was full of clothes and footwear to wear, for any of the seasons which she may happen to arrive in. It meant she could travel light, and after settling in for a couple of days could go clothes shopping to update the fashions if required. It would be the same routine and procedure this time around.

Distracted with that shopping expedition in mind, she opened the front door, and had only taken two steps inside the room, when the landline phone started to ring. Thinking that it may have been her mother phoning to see if she had arrived, she dropped her bags and found her way quickly to the kitchen to pick up the hand piece.

"Hello. Mary Smith's phone, Suzanne speaking."

"You've left me in a right pickle Suzanne. How the hell am I supposed to run a business without finances?"

It was Jack. Bloody hell, there was no escaping him. The cunning bugger, ringing her mother's home phone and catching her off guard.

"It's nice to hear your voice too Jack."

"What sort of a low act was that, for you to go and personally see the bank manager and pull that stunt of two signatures for financial authority. What do you think we're running here, a tin pot operation out of a backyard garage? You of all people should know that the flow of money is the life blood of any business."

Poor Jack, he was wounded.

"Don't you dare attempt to lecture me on the virtues of right and wrong!"

"So you'll have your pound of flesh and ruin us in the process. Is that what you want?"

"Well you didn't think that getting even was as simple as sleeping with your best friend, did you?"

"You can't do this to me, Suzanne."

"I just have Jack."

"How am I supposed to keep this corporation afloat until you decide to play the game again?"

"Good choice of words Jack. This is all one big game to you isn't it? Well I've got news for you, I don't wish to play your game anymore."

"Well you're only hurting yourself in the process."

"I don't think I could feel anymore hurt, than what I'm feeling now ... do you?"

"What about the money we'll be losing, not to mention the damage to our reputation within the industry. Doesn't that mean anything to you?"

"Jack, you just don't get it, do you. Now listen very carefully. I own fifty percent of our business, and being the accountant and financial controller, I know how much the corporation is worth. In any court of law, I can walk away today with at least seven million dollars. You alone don't have the capacity to buy me out, so your empire will crumble. Don't talk to me like a dog, or attempt to goad me into doing something rash, or I'll kick you so hard in the groin that you will never recover."

Oh, that must have hurt. All was silent on his end of the line as he obviously chewed over his worst nightmare.

"Did you hear what I just said, Jack?"

"Yeah I heard you. It was a simple mistake Suzanne. No one was supposed to get hurt."

"You're a brilliant businessman Jack. There was nothing simple about your decision. It was a calculated risk, and one that may end up costing you dearly. Besides, aren't you supposed to be in love with the tramp?"

"I'm sorry Suzanne, what more can I say. I didn't know I'd fall in love with Jenny."

The sheer mention of her name made Suzanne's blood boil. It was time to go and she had to terminate this conversation on a strong note.

"Look Jack, I've got to go. I'll be dropping into head office and going through their books in the next day or so. You may like to give them a little warning of my intentions, and your explanation as to why I'll be there."

There was that silence again, and when he did respond it was with a totally different tact.

"I suppose you took the train again," he chuckled.

Did he think that by being human she would weaken to his charm? No way. She would play the bitch until the mileage suited her.

"Yeah I did, and your problems were nearly solved. I had a dizzy spell and fell in front of an approaching train, but I was fortunate enough to be saved by a man at the last split second."

"Jesus! Suzanne are you okay?"

He actually had a hint of panic in his voice. The problems of probate probably flashed through his mind.

"I hope you rewarded him well."

"Well I haven't yet, but I've agreed to let him take me out to dinner."

"Are you serious? Do you know what you're getting yourself into? He could be a psycho."

"Got to go Jack. Ring head office. Bye."

She hung up, then automatically lifted the receiver off the hook, to leave it sitting on the table giving the engaged signal. He would be going bananas. Bugger the guy, he'd brought this upon himself.

Flicking on the jug, she slipped into her bedroom to unpack her luggage while it boiled. This wouldn't take long, and then she would lay out a clean set of clothes, have a cup of tea, take a long hot shower and then play it by ear for the rest of the afternoon. She left the processing of Troy's letter to the very end, leaving it sitting on her bed and constantly looking at the envelope as though with X-ray vision to read his words, whilst she unpacked her clothes. There was no need to open the letter, she had memorised its contents, so she let his words swirl around in her head, but try as she may, she was unable to visualise Troy's face, his physical features or his voice. Everything she remembered about the guy was being replace by the image of Justin, as the two of them somehow morphed together to be the one person in her mind. It was confusing, and she decided she would attempt to track down Troy's whereabouts a little later this afternoon after she had rested, and before leaving the room, she buried his letter out of sight under some items of clothing in the top draw of her dresser.

With cuppa in hand she ventured out into the backyard, to pull up a deck chair and breathe a sigh of relief at finally being alone and undistracted with her own thought. A light breeze had blown up, and with it came the freshness of spring and a smorgasbord of delicate floral scents. They floated within her reach and called her name, to make her sit up and pay attention before she'd had any time to unwind and truly relax. Travel weary as she was, she succumbed to the scent of nature, opening her eyes for the first time it seemed, to the beauty of the living breathing entity which existed in her mother's backyard.

It seemed as if she was always too busy with her business life, to be able to sit still long enough to take stock of the simple things which were going on around her. Perhaps that was the single ingredient which had been missing from their marriage. Slipping out of her chair, she sniffed the air and turned her head, attempting to locate the vivid rich colours of budding and blooming flowers on the shrubs and trees, which surely must identify the intoxicating essences which were subtly plucked at her nasal receptors. Troy had once said something about getting back to the grass roots level, something about a compensating survival factor which was built into everyone's psyche, something about a switch that was flicked on in people's brains when they were overloaded, which supposedly brought them back to see and appreciate the simple things that were going on around them. Perhaps this was an example of what he was talking about.

She strolled towards the first row of shrubs, paying attention to the humming of dozens of foraging bees, all fighting to stay airborne with their huge payloads of pollen plastered to their legs. She marvelled at the shrubs shape and symmetry, before reaching out to gently touch the newborn buds, and then steadying the branches, wafted her nose around their delicate petals. Like a little girl in a confectionary shop seeking out the sweetest lollies, she glided from one scent to another. They all smelt so wonderful. Their fragrances were like long lost friends which opened up previously closed doors of association, with each conjuring up different images from her youth. She knew most of these plants, she just didn't know their names. The one she was smelling right now belonged on her grandmother's kitchen table.

A warmness flowed through her body as she visualised herself as a young child, skipping through the front door of her grandparent's home, while holding onto her grandfather's hand with a bunch of these flowers in the other, to say with excitement, "look what we picked for you grandma." It was golden to see her grandmother's face light up, with a wink and a smile to her grandad, before then making a fuss of arranging them in a vase which had to sit on the table for all to see. Whatever happened to that childhood innocence? Just for a few seconds she stood silent and immobile, as though at a remembrance ceremony, reflecting on her grandparents and of the influence they'd had on her life.

The new scent which drifted to her nostrils and brought her out of her nostalgic state though, was totally different. It was sort of heavy, lingering and spicy. Not delicate, elusive and ethereal as the others had been. This scent screamed out for attention, and it wouldn't be difficult to follow to find its source either. It sort of reached out and fish-hooked its fingers into her nostrils, and reeled her in towards the corner of the backyard, towards a gangly tree with a swaying matrix which was sprinkled with clusters of berries in various hues of greens and reds. A smile of surprise danced across her face, to quickly erupt into a comical splutter, and then become a choking chuckle of delight with the realisation of the scent's origin. This was all too bizarre to be true. This had to be a peppercorn tree.

Standing strong and dominant like a big buck oozing its hormonal odour over its territory, it still displayed the beauty and magnificence which lured attraction to the plant species. This had to be Justin's beloved signature tree and she could see the association so clearly. Reaching up, she stripped a few shimmering leaves from a stem, feeling the resistance as its branch tugged back with defiance. Crushing the leaves between her fingers to forcibly extract their essential oils, she deeply inhaled its impregnated odour, to recoil sharply, snorting and sneezing at its pungency. Reaching out again, she touched the trunk's coarse bark. A warm tingly sensation spread throughout her body, as she immediately thought of Justin's callused hands upon her and how they'd saved her life. Maybe she was reading too much symbolism into this tree's association, but all of a sudden she felt as though she needed to be in his company.

Quickly she moved to the other corner of the back yard, concerned that maybe she was deluding herself, but yes, there was also one growing there. But what was symbolic about him planting his signature trees in the far back corners of the property? Did this reflect a feeling of insecurity of hiding down the back, or was it a back-stay of strength, to support and protect those less fragile in his domain? There were dozens of unanswered questions which still bashed her brain, about everything which had happened to her in the last couple of weeks, and she just had to believe that everything was happening for a reason. Troy would no doubt say that cosmic forces were at work, and this whole scenario with Justin had everything to do with the intervention of fate. All she knew, was that a light of unrest had been turned on somewhere within her brain, and now she had to find out why. 

# Chapter 5

She had no sooner finished showering and putting on a fresh set of clothes, when her mother walked in the front door.

"Hello darling, you made it all right?" she said with delight, dropping everything for a hug. "I was getting worried about you. I tried to ring you a couple of times but all I got was the engaged signal. You were obviously on the phone."

"Sorry," she apologised breaking contact to replace the receiver. "I had my mobile turned off and Jack rang on your landline. We had words. I was a bit of a bitch to him and I left the receiver off the hook so he couldn't ring me back."

"Just so long as you're okay. You are okay aren't you?"

"Yes mum, and I don't mind talking about it."

"Well how about you put the groceries away while I make us a cuppa, and then we'd better have a chat."

She couldn't explain why she suddenly felt misty eyed, but she knew the feeling of concern which came with the territory of being a mother. Many times in the past, she had felt the hopelessness of not being able to do anything to help her only daughter Kylie when she was in emotional turmoil. Perhaps what she was feeling now was the release of emotion in the 'mummy it hurts' syndrome, but for whatever reason, now that Jenny was out of the picture, it would be good to confide in somebody who truly knew how she ticked.

However she really had no idea, that the relief to unburden herself of her emotional woes would feel as good as it did. All the stuff about Jack and his infidelity, and its likely effect on the business and the family unit gushed out of her mouth. And after a couple of teary episodes and half a box of tissues later, the emotional congestion within her had been released, almost like a blockage in a sink's plumbing gurgling down the drain to allow the water to run freely again. There had only been one interruption to their heart to heart conversation. The phone had rang and there would be someone turning up very shortly, at about 4.00pm this afternoon to do some sort of routine inspection, but other than that, their afternoon was free.

During the interruption, she'd seized upon the opportunity to take a rest room break, to dry her eyes and take stock of what she should, or should not be telling her mother. She decided it would be prudent not to mention the fainting attack, or of its ramifications which had resulted in a date with a perfect stranger. Furthermore, she would heed Jack's words of caution. She would stick to her original plan and the reason why she had agreed to a date in the first place, that of remaining anonymous and in control of the situation. For her own safety, she would take a taxi and meet Justin wherever he liked. If that wasn't acceptable, then it would mean that he wasn't as insightful as she first suspected, and that would be his loss, not hers.

"Mum ..." she asked softly, a few moments later during a period of sustained silence.

Her mother looked up at her with a sadness and a touch of regret in her eyes. It was obvious she was also reflecting on a hurt relationship, that of her own husband leaving her for another woman ten years earlier. At the time it seemed cruel, insensitive and utterly pointless after a thirty year marriage.

"You were thinking of dad weren't you?"

Her mother didn't verbally respond, just smiled the way that mothers do, and returned the sentiment by lovingly squeezing her daughter's hand. A mutual empathy towards each other on the feelings of matrimonial betrayal had been shared, and now it was time for her to broach the subject on the other reason why she had travelled back home to Australia.

"Do you remember Troy, the fellow I was involved with before I married Jack?"

"The nice young man who your father said was on another planet because he was doing a university degree in the environmental sciences? Yes I remember him. As a matter of fact, I ran into his mother at a bowls tournament three or four months ago."

Suzanne sucked in a breath and she tried to contain her excitement.

"You wouldn't happen to know where he is, or what he's doing with his life ... would you?"

"Why Suzanne, what are you up to?"

Her mother's response came with a cheeky smile.

"I was just curious, that's all. I thought I might try and catch up with him, just to see how he turned out."

"Well I can tell you this much. His wife died from breast cancer a couple of years ago, and he must have loved her very much. His mother said that even after all this time, he was still fretting for her and was still on his own."

In the couple of heart beats which followed, she felt the mixed emotions of sadness at his loss, the relief of knowing that he was on his own and socially available, and the continued excitement of her quest to find him.

"Apparently he's still actively involved with all those animal rights movements and does a lot of volunteer work for the zoo. He's a marine biologist, or something like that. Anyhow, I know that he gives talks about fur seals and their behaviour most Sunday's at the zoo. But his main source of income comes from running a vegetarian restaurant, which he jointly operates with his daughter somewhere near the city. Apparently he named the place Priscilla's, in his wife's honour, and the only reason I remember that is because I'm an Elvis fan and his wife was named Priscilla."

"Mum, that's so beautiful. He named a restaurant in honour of his deceased wife."

For a few long seconds they both sat in reflective silence. It was the sound of the doorbell chimes which broke their trance like state, but it was too late to spoil the moment. They both sighed together, both red eyed and reaching for the tissues at the same time. Each had their own subconscious reasons to be touched by a sad ending to what had obviously been a beautiful and lasting relationship. Still dabbing her eyes, her mother got up to open the door.

"Hello Mary," said a deep voice, which then dropped to a softer tone. "Are you all right?"

"Yes, thanks for asking. I was just having a sooky moment, that's all. I'm so pleased you're here. There are a couple of things I'd like to change which I need your advice on."

Suzanne wasn't paying any particular attention to the conversation. Maintenance personnel, like the one at her mother's door, were virtually a weekly occurrence at her property in LA, with its large rambling ten bedroom house on an acre of manicured lawns. It had all the trappings of the middle class well-to-do entrepreneurs who loved to entertain, but of course it came with all the ongoing maintenance problems. Her mind was elsewhere engaged, thinking about Troy and his principles. After all these years he was still passionate about animal rights, and he was still a practising vegetarian, and promoting that stance by owning and operating a vegetarian restaurant.

"How's your daughter now JJ."

"Oh she looks great Mary, pregnancy really agrees with her. I actually took this morning off work, and caught the train into the city to spend an hour or so with her while she saw the gynaecologist, you know ultra sounds and those sorts of things. She's only got a week or so to go."

Suzanne's ears pricked up. There was something familiar about the sound that voice.

"So you'll soon be a grandfather, isn't that wonderful. I'm so excited for you. Be sure to give your daughter my best."

"I will, and your daughter in the States, how is she?"

Suzanne's mouth fell open. No! It couldn't be.

"She's here actually, turned up this morning for a short holiday. I'd like for you to meet her.

Why don't we slip around the back and have a look at the changes I've got in mind, and I'll have her bring us out some afternoon tea? White and two sugars ... right?"

Her mother closed the door, then turning with her feet in motion and with no intention of stopping, smiled at her daughter with the request as she glided by.

"Darling, could you whip us all up some afternoon tea and bring it out to the back veranda. I'd like you to meet a special friend of mine, and a brilliant horticulturist."

She didn't have a chance to protest or to explain. Before she knew it, her mother was out of the room and the back screen door was banging shut. Great! Well that just shot her original plans of being anonymous down in flames, but if she wanted to be strictly honest with herself, then she would have to say she actually felt excited by this new turn of events. There was an element of nervous and sexual anticipation associated with meeting Justin again so soon after he'd saved her life, and this could prove to be a golden moment. All at once she felt anxious to be out there with him, and was worried that her mother would spoil the surprise.

Quickly she moved to the kitchen, to flick on the jug and view through the window plantation shutters to feast her eyes upon his huge frame. From this distance it was easy to be objective, and by observing him from behind a window, it afforded her the protection of anonymity to perve and fantasise without being detected. For that reason, it was probably not so strange that she should be suddenly be thinking amorous thoughts, or strange that she should subconsciously raise her hands to her breasts, to gently touch her nipples and feel them instantly respond.

The big fella was constantly stopping to chuckle and interact with her mother, talking and pointing affirmatively with his hands, and she visualised him as he had been earlier this morning, towering over her as she lay on her back on the railway platform, with her skirt up around her neck, legs in the air, practically naked from the waist down, and with his eyes and rugged hands upon her body. She imagined those hands transposing themselves upon her breasts, and could almost feel his calloused fingers sliding over her swollen nipples. The thought excited her, and she moaned softly, catching her breath, feeling her body temperature rise and her juices pumping as she teased herself a little more. How long had it been since she'd last felt like this? Perhaps what she was experiencing here was a combination of emotional and hormonal influences, factors involving not only Jack cheating on her with her best friend, but also the jetlag, the eighteen hour flight of sleep deprivation in economy seating, and her own near death experience.

Regardless of the reason, she couldn't help but be fascinated by him, or resist observing him as he moved with a graceful magnetic gait towards his signature tree, to reach up with his hand to touch its branches and run his fingers through the leaves. The tree's strong spicy aroma wafted back to her mind, and his action strangely signalled a desire within her to lose control and put her hand down inside her panties. It was an action she had to consciously squash. She was in her mother's house and her mother's kitchen and this was all so inappropriate. She stopped the stimulation, letting the vision of his hands and eyes upon her body slip from her mind. Taking a deep breath, she remained where she was for a few long seconds, allowing the reality of the here and now to filter back to her conscious, as the jug came to the boil and began to whistle.

Feeling somewhat ashamed with her behaviour, she threw a quick look back through the window towards Justin and her mother, to see if they sensed anything out of the ordinary, but both parties were of course blissfully unaware of her sexual fantasy. Wasting no more time, she filled the teapot and would let it stand and brew for a few minutes, while she freshened up and regained her composure. She swapped her skirt and blouse for blue jeans and a T-shirt. It felt as if that was an appropriate way to disassociate herself from the incident of fondling her breasts and what else could have easily transpired, whilst being a voyeur in her mother's kitchen. Her mother would know that she had changed her clothes, but of course she wouldn't know why and wouldn't say anything anyhow, after all, for whatever the reason, that was a woman's prerogative.

Moving to the bathroom, she stared at herself in the washbasin mirror, splashing cold water on her face in the attempt to subdue its flushed appearance. She really couldn't remember the last time she had touched herself in such a fashion, or felt so turned on by a visual stimulus and her own imagination. In reality though, it had been a few weeks since she had last had sex with Jack, and if the truth be told, that's all it really was, a case of 'wham, bam, thank you ma'am,' nothing more than a physical act conducted quickly and without tenderness. It was now obvious in hindsight, the reason why their sexual contacts had become progressively less frequent, and she had to ask herself, when was the last time that she had been the recipient of romance, or had felt the fulfilment and the emotional intimacy of being made love to? In all honesty, she really couldn't remember.

Drying her face, she dragged a brush through her hair and applied a dab of perfume to her wrists. There was no time to apply makeup, and if the jet lag and lack of sleep still showed under her eyes, then that would be just too bad. Slipping back into the kitchen, she rattled around for the appropriate crockery, scavenged through the pantry to find a packet of assorted cream biscuits, and then loaded up a carry tray with all the associated afternoon tea components. Feeling somewhat more in control and considerably more relaxed, she then slipped silently out the screen door and onto the back veranda. Her mother and Justin were now sitting at the table, still engrossed in conversation and with their backs to her as she approached.

He was mid-sentence when she observed him falter in his concentration, his sixth sense subliminally alerting him to her arrival. He shifted uneasily in his seat, subtly sniffing the air as though detecting a familiar scent, before turning his head and body around to come face to face with her, barely a metre away as she lay the tray down on the table. 

# Chapter 6

"Hello Justin, we meet again," she said with a smirk from ear to ear.

At first she didn't register to him. He wasn't expecting to see her. He looked blankly at her, looked blankly through her, his brain not accepting what he was really seeing. But sudden the penny dropped and the big guy's jaw followed.

"Suzanne! How? ... Where? ... Are you staying here, with Mary?"

"Mary is my mother."

"What's going on?" asked her equally confused mother. "Darling, do you know JJ?"

"I met him on the train today."

"On the way back from meeting his daughter?"

"I didn't know he had a daughter."

"What's JJ short for?"

"Justin Jackson."

"Well this saves me from ringing you tonight."

"You met him on the train. How?"

"I love your signature tree."

"You knew what a peppercorn tree looked like?"

"Darling, how did you meet him on the train?"

"Well technically I met him on the railway station. He saved my life. And no, I didn't know what a Peppercorn tree looked like, but you described it very visually."

"What do you mean he saved your life?"

"I fainted and fell in front of an oncoming train and Justin saved me."

"Yes, I saved her, and Suzanne's repaying me by letting me take her out to dinner."

The silence that followed was deafening. Suzanne was the first to start to giggle. She was quickly joined by Justin's deep chuckle, and followed by her mother's broken laugh with accompanied hand gestures indicating that something didn't quite add up. Her mother had however noticed that she had changed her clothes, and had noticed the way that she was looking at Justin, and the way that Justin was looking back at her. If her mother was perceptive enough to pick up on their attraction, then it must be pretty obvious. Mary poured the tea, got the story of their accidental meeting right in her head, and after being sociable for a while longer, she made some lame excuse about having to make a number of phone calls, before leaving the two of them alone.

"I should have realised you were Mary's daughter. Your mother's a lovely lady, I've got a lot of time for her."

"That's so sweet of you to say. Exactly what has my mother told you about me?"

"Not a lot about you actually. I know a lot more about your daughter. I have a daughter also, Samantha who is the same age as your Kylie, so we sort of keep track on their developments. However, I knew that you were an accountant and that your husband is involved in the computer industry, but that's about all. You told me this morning that you work for a computer support company. Do both you and your husband work for the same company?"

"Yeah, we do actually, but I don't know if I'm going back. We've had an altercation about his infidelity with my ex-best friend," she said breaking eye contact to look at her barren fingers.

"Oh!"

Justin shifted positions uncomfortably in his seat as though attempting to deflect an unpleasant association. It was too late for him to cover up his body language though, for her not to say something.

"Did I hit a raw nerve?"

She scanned his face, moving her head around in an attempt to force him to look into her eyes. His inability to answer off the cuff was an explanation in itself, and when he did turn his head in her direction with a thin masking smile, the pain in his eyes told her that the nerve she had hit had penetrated deep. He now had no other choice than to spit it out. He faltered, thinking about what he was about to say, before opening his mouth.

"My ex-wife went overseas for a holiday a couple of years ago and never came back. She met somebody else over there, and then abandoned both me and Samantha, just wrote us both off as past history. Now she doesn't even contact her own daughter and wouldn't know that Sammy's pregnant, or realise that she'll soon be a grandmother."

The hurt little boy look on this gentle big man's face melted her heart. She wanted to hug him and take his pain away, wanted to wrap her arms around his shoulders and tuck his head into her breasts, run her fingers through his hair, kiss his forehead and tell him that everything was going to be all right.

"You must be so angry and so hurt."

"I was at the time, but now all I feel is contempt for the woman, and an incredible sadness at my daughter's loss."

"You have no idea why she left?"

"I have no idea to this day what I may have done wrong, and that's the tormenting part. At least in your situation you can put your finger on a cause and can then dwell on its implications. I'm totally left in the dark."

He wasn't playing the victim, or looking for sympathy. He just wanted someone to understand his feelings and to appreciate the origins of his insecurities. He was a big man, but that didn't mean his pain was any less of a burden to carry. He obviously thought his self-esteem had been irreparably brutalised, but this man had emotions and feelings, and more sensitivity in his little callused finger than Jack had in his entire body. All he needed was the reassuring love of a woman to cure his insecurities.

"Look I'm sorry if I've brought you down. It wasn't my intention, and this is too perfect a day to be melancholic, particularly in the company of such a beautiful woman."

She felt her motor purr. He had that larrikin grin on his face again, but his compliment had come across as being genuine, and she suspected it contained an undercurrent of empathy, in his attempt to compensate for what he thought may have been, her own feelings of low self-esteem. The truth of the matter was, she was no longer feeling insecure. She had the upper hand, the power and the control over her situation to go her own way, or to extract revenge if she wanted to. The bottom line was, she had the financial security to comfortably begin her life all over again, without Jack being in it.

"Would you like to do something tonight?" he asked. "Or would you prefer to do this some other time."

"Do what, some other time?" she asked raising her eyebrows.

She knew she was crossing the line and flirting with him by making that comment, and she could see that he was picking up on her swinging leg and exposed body language.

"Are you trying to embarrass me?"

"Do you get embarrassed that easily?"

"No," he responded, but his face was beginning to show colour.

"Do I make you feel uncomfortable?"

Her eyes were dancing with sheer delight, as she deliberately recrossed her legs in the other direction to continue their swinging motion.

"I think you're teasing me."

Yeah right, she thought, if only he knew what he was doing to her. She grinned broadly at his discomfort, before slipping out of the seat and tapping him on the leg.

"Come on. Come and explain your precious peppercorn tree to me."

With that action, the awkwardness between them was broken, and she reverted back into the familiar corporate roll of being distant but charming, while he showed his obvious relief at being let off the hook, to drop back into the comfort zone of his horticulturist territory.

When their time was up a few minutes later, she walked him to his vehicle. They would meet again on Sunday, where they would be spending the day at the zoo. She had been more than just a little misleading with her intentions and reasoning to go to the zoo, but Justin had been delighted with her choice. He said it was a bargain. He now got to spend a whole glorious spring day with her, instead of just a couple of stolen hours in a darkened restaurant. His jubilation at seeing her again within a couple of days left her body feeling, one again, aroused and excited. Perhaps this whole sexual awakening that she was experiencing, was a symptom of her body being out of balance. Perhaps it was, as she had thought earlier while touching herself in the kitchen, that her amorous behaviour had been brought on by a combination of side effects, which incorporated jet lag, stress release at a near death experience, and perhaps also 'the knight in shining armour' syndrome. Anyhow today was Thursday, so she had plenty of time before their date on Sunday to acclimatise and cool her sexual heels.

A short time later she entered the house to confront her anxious mother, with the 'tell me all about it' smile on her face.

"Isn't he a wonderful man Susie?"

"Mum, he's terrific. He not only saved my life, but he also stirs something inside me which has been dead for such a long time."

"Are you going to see him again?"

"I have a debt to pay. Would it bother you if I did?"

"Heavens no! That's a silly question to ask, in light of what Jack has done to you."

"This isn't about revenge. This is about me and the way that I feel now that Jack has set me free. I honestly don't know if I ever want him back."

"What about your business, your house and your lifestyle. Are you willing to throw all that away?"

"Mum, I'm worth a small fortune. I no longer need the business or the headaches that go along with it, besides, success isn't all about making money. And talking about money, have you ever said anything to Justin about my financial affairs?"

"No, never. All I ever mention about my daughter, to anyone, is that she lives in LA and is an accountant for a computer company, and that's it."

"Good, let's leave it that way. I don't want Justin or anyone else finding out that I may be worth a few bob. I want him to like me for basically who I am."

"Well that was a good first impression, meeting him on the railway platform the way that you did."

"Mum, do you think that maybe I'm being foolish?"

Her mother wrapped her arms around her daughter to give her a reassuring hug.

"Oh darling, heavens no. I wish I'd had the same opportunity as you have now, when your father first left me. Seize the moment Susie."

"What about Troy, do you think I should also check him out?"

"How could I stop you?"

"Good, because Justin is taking me to the zoo on Sunday."

"Oh you little devil," wailed her mother, dropping the embrace to slap her on the bum. "You always were a devious child."

It felt good to share what she was thinking with her mother, and to be able to laugh and giggle with the closeness of best friends. Being the only daughter and child, they had always been close, but marriage and moving overseas to another country had broken this kind of bonding. Even if nothing eventuated with Justin, or Troy for that matter, and in the end she went back to Jack and the same old routine, then at the very least she would have cemented a renewed friendship with her mother, and that in itself was a good thing.

It had turned out to be an exhausting and very eventful day. Tonight she would try to get a good night's sleep, and tomorrow she would visit and audit the books of their computer corporation's Australian arm. On Saturday she would go shopping with her mother to find something special to wear for her date with Justin at the zoo, and that in itself could prove to be very interesting. If Troy was also there giving a fur seal presentation, and by some quirk of fate he should recognise her in the crowd, then Sunday's little escapade could very well turn out to be an unpleasant double trouble type experience. 

# Chapter 7

By mid-morning the next day she was sitting down with Julia, her Aussie counterpart, with the complete accountancy books and computer print outs at her disposal. Julia had been her employment choice, not Jack's, and at that time almost ten years ago, her decision to employ Julia as an accountant, had created the first split in their previous business harmony. Jack by his very nature was a control freak, and he chose his personnel carefully, to assure that he could ride roughshod over them by using whatever means of intimidation that he could. Julia at the time had been vulnerable, being recently divorced with three teenage children and was most appreciative for the golden opportunity to take on a full time position. Julia, and likewise the staff under Julia in the accountancy department's chain of command, were from that time on to be accountable only to her. This built up a loyalty and rapport between the two of them, which Jack was not at all comfortable with.

"There's really nothing here that's new since we last communicated," said Julia, questioning her impromptu visit.

It was true, there would be nothing new. With all the modern means of communication available to the technological world, the use of scanners, e-mail, faxes and mobiles ensured that the transfer of information was simple, instantaneous and practical. There was no excuse for inefficiencies, or to not have constant contact, and she had to admit that between the two of them and their crew, they ran a pretty tight ship.

"I know that Julia. Didn't Jack send through some sort of memorandum to say I'd be dropping in?"

"Not to my knowledge. Is there something going on that I should be aware of?"

"Jack's screwing my ex-best friend."

"Oh!"

"So, I guess I'm basically here to take stock, to get an up to date picture in my own mind of the company's true worth. So I need to review profit and loss statements, balance sheets, projected sales forecasts, contracts on hand, etc."

"Oh."

"I need a financial game plan, and whatever suggestions you can come up with for the rationalisation or sale of this business. I'd also appreciate it if you could keep all this under your hat for the time being, just in case I have a change of heart."

"Okay, net worth as of today can be easily calculated, although we normally don't do all of the adjustments until the end of the month. We'll need to do an assessment on projected growth and potential earnings based on ..."

"Julia, it's all right, settle down. I don't have to have these figures today. It just feels as though I've got to do something, like I've got to be prepared and armed with the right information at my fingertips, to confront Jack with when the time comes."

"If you go, I couldn't stay here and work for Jack. No disrespect intended, but his male chauvinism and arrogance would force me to leave."

Suzanne rocked with laughter.

"I can understand and appreciate that. You'd better add in a fair redundancy package for yourself, as an expense to the business in the event of wind-up proceedings."

"I'd sincerely appreciate that, thank you."

"Look, you and I already have a fair idea of how much this side of the business is worth with its profits and capital assets. They are documented facts that can't be argued against, and that also makes them not negotiable, but the goodwill of the company and the projected sales figures can be dressed up, to be to be a negotiating point and a thorn in Jack's side if he doesn't agree to a quick settlement."

"You're deadly set serious about this, aren't you?"

"She was my best friend Julia. How would you feel?"

Julia touched her hand with compassion, shaking her head as though regretting what she was about to say.

"I'm sorry, you don't deserve this, you've always been a good friend and a generous employer to me, and now I feel that I'm forced to tell you something."

She paused, not wanting to continue, shifting uncomfortably in her seat, with her head now hung low and looking down at her feet.

"Tell me what?"

Raising her head slowly, Julia took a deep breath and looked sadly into Suzanne's eyes.

"Tell you that I know Jack has had affairs before, with women in this office."

Suzanne's mouth fell open and the words dropped out.

"With whom?" she asked in disbelief, automatically scanning the office, expecting to catch a glimpse of a snicker or a chuckle.

The expression on Julia's face indicated that she regretted having made the confession, but it was too late, Suzanne's eyes bored into hers demanding that she couldn't stop now.

"With nobody who's here now ... and with nobody from the accountancy department," she quickly defended. "Jack has a knack of dismissing his conquests once they have served their purpose. I'm sorry Suzanne, but in light of what is happening, I thought you had a right to know."

"How long has this been going on for?"

"I only noticed it about twelve months ago, just after the last time you two were here together. You know, the time we launched those new scanners. Do you remember Shirley, the representative who the employment agency head hunted for us from some fancy overseas technology company, the one we paid top dollar for? She was the one who wanted a brand new company car, and the unlimited use of the credit card facilities."

"The redhead with the silicon tits?"

"Yeah that one. Well she was the first that I recollect. It was terribly obvious to everyone in the office, but a couple of months later Jack got rid of her and another took her place."

"That bitch! That bastard! How could he do that to me?"

She could feel the rage inside her beginning to swell.

"What a fool I must appear to everyone."

"No! Nobody thinks badly of you. Besides, nobody really knows for sure, they only suspect."

"Then what makes you so certain?"

"Because he tried it on me. A couple of months ago, the six of us in management were supposed to be having a business dinner together. It was a last minute Friday night get together at that fancy hotel Jack stays in when he comes to Sydney, but when I arrive, it turns out to be a candlelit dinner for two. He said that the others wouldn't be coming, but there was no reason why he and I shouldn't have a good time. Look I'm really embarrassed to have to tell you this, and when you confront Jack with my allegation, I'm on borrowed time."

It seemed somehow perfectly fitting that she should find out about Jack's extracurricular infidelity, and the depths to which it had taken. It vindicated her actions and strengthened her resolve to do what she had to do. But the question remained as to why he'd be so daft to make a move on Julia, or for that matter, be so stupid as to have an affair with her best friend Jenny? None of it made any sense. Even if it was a game on Jack's part, surely it was a game of Russian roulette, where sooner or later a live round would enter the chamber. Just for a few long seconds she became misty eyed, and wished she could step outside into a torrential downpour to drown the torment and the horrible images of cheating from her mind.

"Well at least I now know where I firmly stand," she said quietly dabbing her eyes. "I was nearly convinced to give him a second chance. I won't weaken like that again."

"Are you okay? Would you like me to get you a cuppa, or leave you alone for a little while?"

"No, but thanks for asking, and thanks for telling me the truth, but I think I'll call it a day and wander around the streets for a while."

She got up, but then hesitated with her movement.

"You know what, make this a priority and leave no stone unturned. Ring me when you're finished, and then courier the complete financial reports to my mother's house."

"I'll get right onto it, and I'm sorry things haven't worked out the way they should."

"Me too."

Trying to be philosophical about the whole situation, she turned to go, but her little voice whispered impulsively in her ear, and before she could drown it out or argue with what it was telling her, she'd addressed Julia once again.

"Sorry, to save me the bother, and since you're sitting in front of the computer, could you find me the address of Priscilla's vegetarian restaurant."

Julia typed the name into the search engine, and reached for a pencil and post it note.

"It's in Chatswood," she uttered, scribbling down the address and handing over the scrap of paper. "Do you want a print out of its location and the directions to find it?"

"No, that won't be necessary. I've heard they serve a great quiche. I might check it out before I head back to the States."

Safely outside with her emotions more in check, she found herself sitting on the low brick fence at the front of the property. It was probably revenge orientated, but it was odd nonetheless how Troy's letter had jumped into her mind as she was about to leave the office, and odd also how the connotation on simple words like 'affair' or 'cheating' could trigger such raw emotions. Emotions so strong it felt as though she was suffocating and couldn't breathe, emotions which compelled her to punish herself by walking in a violent thunderstorm to purge the nasties out of her system. Perhaps it was that built-in survival mechanism that Troy had once talked about, and perhaps it wasn't so strange at all that she had thought of his letter and the mystery it contained.

Pulling herself together, she regained her composure and headed for the station. She knew Chatswood really well, she had shopped there a hundreds of times. It was only a few stations away on the north shore line, and only five or six stations further on from there, on the same line, to her mother's home in Turramurra. It wouldn't hurt to know where the restaurant was, and it wasn't likely it would be open during the day, but if it was, then it surely wouldn't be open at 11am in the morning. Suzanne paced it out with a renewed vigour with each step pushing her misgivings deeper below the surface. Jack had done this to her, and right now in the absence of a violent thunderstorm, he was the stale chewing gum on the sole of her shoes, and his torment would be pounded and scuffed into the sidewalk's pavement as she walked, and very soon he would fade away and she would be able to hear her own footsteps again.

Then all of a sudden it seemed, there was the restaurant, right across the street in front of her. Looking at her watch, it was apparent that somehow an hour and a half had passed by. It was now 12.30pm. True, she had caught the train from the city after having stopped a couple of times to look in street front windows, and had also entered a few shops quickly for a bit of a browse, but that hadn't consumed very much time. She had also tried on a pair of gorgeous high heal shoes which had jumped out at her from their display cabinet and called her name, and yes, she had eventually bought them after road testing a couple of other models for a comparison, but surely this shopping deviation and a train trip hadn't consumed an hour and a half. Maybe though, she had read the time wrong in the first place when she'd left the office, or maybe she was still disorientated and suffering from her near death experience and the effects of jet lag, which in all reality did take a couple of days to recover from.

Whatever the reason was for all the weirdness she was feeling, it would probably be wise to see Dr Curlewis for a check-up, and she would make a point of ringing his surgery this afternoon when she got home, to make an appointment for first thing Monday morning. That fainting attack on the railway station yesterday should really be checked out, if for no other reason than for the incident to be recorded on her medical file. He would no doubt say that she was stressed and fatigued, and would suggest a tonic, bed rest and the company of a good book. She liked Dr Curlewis, he was their family physician and had been for as long as she could remember. His surgery held all their personal medical records, with those files being updated via email or fax from their physician in LA, with every consultation or treatment they had over in the States.

Jack had often complained that the transfer of his personal information was an invasion of his privacy, but she had insisted the family's medical history should be all catalogued at the one central point. She had always regarded Australia as home, and with all the travelling they did, regular check-ups were a formality. It was only after Jack took seriously ill on one of his Australian trips, and had gone along to see Dr Curlewis, that he finally surrendered to the common sense of having his drug treatment and medical diagnosis on file. He was having a reaction to a number of medications, for the treatment of high blood pressure, cholesterol and a sleeping disorder which he was suffering from at the time, and had been prescribed the wrong dosages. Dr Curlewis had simply read the report which had previously been emailed over from the States, and had picked up on the anomaly straight away. After that medical emergency, Jack didn't buck her system any more.

She suspended the thought process, to put her own medical predicament on hold. That was Monday's reality. Today's reality was right here, right now, and it was staring her in the face. Just across the street, which had been transformed into a mall a long time ago, was Troy's restaurant, and there was an open sign displayed on the front door. It was an invitation to enter and there could be no backing out now, it had taken her twenty years to get to this point. Through the huge glass windows she could see a waitress buzzing to and fro, busy serving patrons who were sitting down to lunch, and she could feel her own pending excitement at putting a foot inside the front door. Bravely she stepped forward, with her heart banging away like a single cylinder piston, the heels of her shoes sounding like an approaching army and the pavement beneath her feet trembling with the anticipation of what was to come.

Oh God she felt so weak and flighty, and her paranoia was working overtime. It felt as though everyone in the street was gorging at her. They all knew why she was here and they were all urging her on, willing her to reach the door and pull the damn thing open. How must she look though, with very little make up on and wearing casual clothes? There was no need to get dolled up this morning, she was only going to the office for a couple of hours, not on a dinner date to meet Troy. She kept the momentum going though, to mount the gutter on the other side of the street. It was too late to have second thoughts about what she was doing, particularly now that she'd come this far. She had to keep moving. That pretentious woman sitting by the inside window had seen her falter, she'd no doubt recognise her apprehension and sensed the fact that she was having those second thoughts. Perhaps the old cow was hoping she'd chicken out, to then turn tail and run, but she wasn't about to give her that satisfaction.

She reached out and took hold of the brass door handle, to instantly feel its metallic coolness on her hot sweaty palms as she pulled the door towards her. Now she knew the sensation that Justin had felt on the station when she had held his hands, but this hormonal response was more than the nervousness or sexual tension which he had felt, this was the expectation and the suspense of what could possibly be.

"Hello, welcome to Priscilla's. I'm Sandy and I'm your hostess," said the effervescent waitress who greeted her first steps into the restaurant. "Table for one?"

The awkwardness and apprehension which she was feeling, began to dissipate as she followed the young lass to be seated by the window, and adjacent to the snooty old cow and her painted friends.

"This is lovely, thank you," she said, accepting the menu.

"Would you like a drink?"

"Just water thanks."

Suzanne opened her bag and whipped out her glasses. She slotted them into position on the tip of her nose, and with the pretence of looking at the menu, glanced over their rims to do a reconnaissance of the restaurant. The dozen or so patrons had accepted her presence, after first giving their customary glances and their hushed remarks to their respective partners or friends, so everything was in order as far as blending in was concerned. And other than the young lass who had seated her, there would obviously be at least one, if not two chefs out the back. She could definitely hear one male's voice, but it was hard to discern the age of its owner, or to tune into what he was saying with all the sizzling and preparation noise coming from out of the kitchen.

If Troy were here, then surely he would be the maître d' and would be greeting his patrons as they walked through the front door, which he wasn't. And if he were the chef and stuck out the back in the kitchen, which she doubted because he was always a terribly sociable person, then he wouldn't get to interact with any of his customers at all. Whichever way it went though, without him magically appearing in the room, she would probably have to ask after him and leave her name, and she didn't want to do that, as that would ruin the surprise and the emotional impact of their face to face reunion. Not that he would be expecting her to turn up. It wasn't as if his life was on hold waiting for her to walk through the front door, and who's to say he would recognise her anyhow after twenty years, so what was she getting so wound up about anyhow?

She talked herself into settling down, then deciding what to order, removed her glasses and found a more comfortable seated position to survey the atmosphere which Troy had attempted to create. Miss bubbly arrived with a bottle of water and notepad before she had a chance to soak up anything.

"Here you go," she said placing the bottle down in the middle of the table. "Found anything on the menu you'd like?"

"I think I'll just have the quiche with the light Greek salad thanks."

"Okie dokie, good choice. Quiche with a light Greek salad it is."

She handed back the menu with a comfortable smile after Sandy had scribbled down the order. The young lass had already turned and taken a couple of steps back towards the kitchen, when Suzanne's eyes caught sight of the portrait hanging on the wall in the direction of where she was heading.

"Ahh Sandy ... excuse me," she said stopping the waitress in her tracks, to draw her back to the table. "That beautiful portrait on the wall. Who is that?"

Sandy turned to face the portrait, as a school girl would to face the headmistress. Her hands went behind her back in a mark of respect, as she stood silent for a second or two before the words of admiration came out of her mouth.

"That's my mother ... Priscilla."

"She's a beautiful woman."

"Yes, and she was a beautiful human being too. She died a couple of years ago. Dad and I opened this restaurant as a legacy to her memory."

Suzanne couldn't help herself. It was all too beautiful. The thought of being so loved and cherished, to be immortalised on canvas and proudly hung in a premises named in your honour, as a declaration for all to see, was all too much. Tears welled in her eyes and goose bumps flushed over her body.

"That's so everlasting. I'm so sorry for your loss," she empathised being caught up in the moment. "Your father, does he also work here?"

"I do the lunch shift, but we do the dinner shift together."

"It's a beautiful restaurant, you should feel really proud. I can hardly wait to taste the food."

"Thank you for your kind words, and I'm sure you'll enjoy your meal. We only use fresh locally sourced produce and our chef is very particular and pays attention to detail."

Sandy was beaming as she walked away to greet new customers. She had a natural grace and ability to put her patrons at ease, and as Suzanne watched her in action, she could see Troy's innate mannerisms exhibiting themselves in his daughter, mannerisms that now came back with a rush, to wash over her brain like a giant tidal wave.

All at once she felt jealous and envious of Priscilla. How often did a love come along that could be that strong? It left her with a fleeting regret, and the nostalgic desire to turn back the hands of time, to capture the magic which could have been hers. _"When the time is right, your heart and soul will guide you to me."_ His last written words rattled through her mind. Was this why she'd been guided here now ... to replace Priscilla? Her eyes penetrated into those of her rival in the portrait. It was strange that she should consider a dead woman a rival, and be looking for answers from the eyes of a portrait, but it was even stranger that she was illogically comparing one person's life to another without having walked a mile in their shoes. Priscilla's portrait captured the very essence of why it was hanging there in the first place. It displayed a beautiful peaceful acceptance of what life handed out, with a certain reflective sadness of knowing that life was also coming to an end.

Sitting there at the table, she got swept up with the nostalgia and sentimentality of her past life, and time passed by, right up until her dream like state was interrupted by Sandy's arrival with her meal.

"There you go," she said sliding the plate onto the table. "Fresh from the kitchen with no artificial colours, flavours, preservatives or animal flesh. Enjoy."

If appetite was ninety percent eye appeal, then that would explain why her salivary glands were going berserk. Full credit not only went to the meals preparation, but also to the dining environment and the atmosphere with its soft background music, which had been created for the patrons to enjoy. And she enjoyed the meal as best she could, however, as delicious and as filling as it was, her rampant appetite was soon replaced by her rampant imagination. There were too many thoughts and associations which had her jabbing at her food. That damn portrait, portraying love, acceptance, forgiveness and eternity, bored into her brain. It conflicted with the rage that she felt for Jack, and of his betrayal of her and the family unit.

She found herself stabbing at the cherry tomatoes, to spear them in the middle and see there innards squelch out, and not know if it was Jack or herself who she was symbolically punishing. And she found herself questioning why it seemed to be so difficult to eat a simple meal without so much internal conflict. Why would a piece of parsley as she pawed at its foliage, flash images of a peppercorn tree and Justin across her mind? Why should this thought then bring with it the guilty feeling of having touched herself pleasurably in the kitchen on the previous day? And why would this lead to the sensation of her hot sweaty hands on the cold brass door handle less than twenty minutes ago, to then have that image blend itself into holding Justin's hot and sweaty hands at the station only yesterday?

When the meal and the torment was finally finished, she neatly placed her knife and fork on the edge of the almost empty plate with the etiquette of a refined lady. The only salad vegetable she hadn't eaten, were the olives. Her palate was not discerning enough to appreciate their salty flavour, and their pits were too pointed and adherent to the flesh for her liking. She knew Sandy was observing her as she pushed her plate to one side, and it was proper of her to not approach straight away. Sandy was allowing her a little time to finish her drink and to let her meal settle, or waiting for a visual cue from her, before gliding over to ask if she enjoyed the meal and to see if she could be tempted by dessert or a cup of coffee. Her father's genetic characteristics were so dominant in her that it was uncanny, but she was also blessed with her mother's gorgeous looks, particularly the eyes and the cheeks.

And in that instant, Suzanne felt the overbearing urge to want to see and hold her own daughter. Kylie also had her father's headstrong mannerisms and his will to compete and survive. Jack was forceful that way, and it was not a bad genetic or behavioural characteristic to pass along to the next generation. It would also be interesting to meet Justin's daughter Samantha. She had no doubt that with the recent abandonment of her mother, Samantha would also be moulded in her father's image. It left Suzanne wondering how much of her own father's characteristics had been imprinted upon her, and whether she had changed or rejected any of those characteristics since his betrayal to her mother ten years ago. It was time to walk this out. Being philosophical and self-analytical could be so debilitating. She wouldn't be waiting for Sandy to come to the table, she had to go right now.

A couple of minutes later after paying the bill and exchanging pleasantries with Sandy, she walked out of the restaurant feeling content and comfortable in the knowledge that her search had come to an end. She now knew where to find Troy any night of the week. When she was mentally ready, she could return and face the man, whose soulful words in a hidden letter had ignited a dying flame and released a kaleidoscope of feelings within her which had been suppressed for so long. 

# Chapter 8

"Mum, I don't know how I feel about anything anymore."

In light of all the new events which were taking shape around her, she was trying to explain to her mother the conflicting emotions that she was feeling. Since leaving the restaurant and getting on the train, those emotions had prompted her to use her mobile phone to ring Dr Curlewis's surgery to make an appointment to see him on Monday morning. And with all the confusion that was swirling around in her head, she had also kind of hoped that her mother wouldn't be home when she got back, as she needed to distract herself by escaping into a good book, but that wasn't meant to be.

"I just wish I could turn back the hands of time, and have none of this happen to me."

"Yes, but it is happening to you, and now you've got to make the best of it. Please don't end up like me Susie. You've got a second chance for a new beginning. I know that you're overwhelmed and probably feel like you're bogged in the mud on the side of the road, but you will get out and get back on the road again."

"What do I do about all these mixed feeling that I have for both Troy and Justin?"

"You let them run their natural course. View it as part of the recovery procedure of getting yourself out of the bog."

They both giggled at the analogy, with Suzanne taking up the challenge to figuratively hop into the boxing ring with her mother and banter back.

"I do have a four wheel drive and a pulley winch," she jabbed. "Hopefully it won't take me that long to get out of the mud."

"Maybe, maybe not, but you're bogged to the axle and there're no trees close enough to hook the pulley onto," counter punched her mother.

"Shovel comes with the vehicle."

"You're in heavy clay and the digging isn't easy."

"You're not making this any easier mother."

"It gets worse. It's still raining and nightfall's on its way."

"I have a mobile phone, I could call for roadside assistance."

"Yeah, you could, but unfortunately your coverage is out of range, and the battery's flat."

Her mother's comment was short and sharp, its delivery as lethal and as beautiful as a left hook.

"I should have seen that one coming," chuckled Suzanne looking for an opening to throw the big right cross.

"You could give up, chuck in the towel and simply wait for someone to come along and rescue you," challenged her mother.

"Never! I'll never give anyone that satisfaction."

They continued to verbally spar for a while longer, jabbing and counter punching their way through a fantasy scenario which was reminiscent of a childhood game they used to play. A game that involved the imagination, problem solving and the building of self-esteem. When the final bell went, it was the house phone that was ringing, and it brought their role playing to an end. She had to admit though, she felt much better. She would find a way to use the winch, and she would be out of that bog before the heavy rainfall and darkness of night came along. And she would do it all on her own.

"It's Jack."

Her mother walked towards her with the portable phone. She held her hands up, gesturing with a jab and fancy footwork, to express to her daughter that she was still in the ring and still warmed up. Suzanne rolled her eyes and snatched up the phone to take the offensive.

"What is it now Jack, you're really starting to piss me off. After what I found out about you today, I don't think I ever want to talk to you again, let alone ever trust you again."

"Suzanne, I need to talk to you. I need to tell you something. I ..."

"Tell your slut. I don't want to hear it."

Was he actually getting emotional? She could sense his erratic breathing and hear a crackle in his voice.

"I need to tell you ..."

She cut him off again.

"You've been screwing women at the office. You bunged it on Julia for goodness sake. What have you got, some sort of death wish? You have affairs under my nose. You shit in your own nest. Why? To embarrass me? Why would you do that Jack? Surely you'd know I'd eventually find out and wouldn't put up with it. Am I so unattractive and such a horrible person that you feel it necessary to totally humiliate me ... am I!?"

He was silent, covered up and cowering on the corner ropes. She continued her onslaught, raining down blow after blow.

"What, no grovelling? No begging my forgiveness. How many times have you cheated on me Jack? With how many women and for how long? What! Cat got your tongue? I can only assume by your silence that you have nothing to feel repentant about."

She didn't get a response. She didn't want to hear one anyhow.

"Look I'm going, and don't ring me anymore. Every time you do, it just makes matters worst."

"I need to see you face to face. I'm flying in early next week."

"Bye Jack."

She disconnected the call. She had vented her anger once again. She'd punched the living daylights out of him, but still felt no closer to the truth or satisfied that the fight was over. What did he want from her anyhow, a licence to play up, understanding, forgiveness, what? Justin, as it turned out, had hit the nail on the head. He had talked about living with the ongoing torment of not knowing why his wife had suddenly deserted him and his daughter, and whether or not he was to blame for her leaving in the first place. Now she knew a little of the torment and pain of what he must have felt. The question was, would he have chased after her and wooed her back if he had known?

"Are you all right darling?"

"Yeah mum. Jack just busted my winch, but I can fix it and still be out of that bog by dark".

They finished the chuckle they had both shared, prior to being interrupted by Jack's phone call.

"So are we still shopping tomorrow?"

"Oh yeah. We'll shop till we drop, and we'll have manicures, pedicures, facials, makeovers and whatever else we feel like in the process. Did you book us in at the hairdressers?"

"Both of us, 8.00am, first cabs off the rank."

It was settled. Tomorrow would take care of itself, and the rest of this evening and tonight would be taken up by a good book. Strangely enough though, the book she picked up was one of those cheap romance novels. It was not too heavy in the reading department, with a simple plot which was familiar and predictable. The hero and heroine meet accidentally by a twist of fate, and although they are from different economic and sociological backgrounds, they fall in love nevertheless and live happily ever after.

It was hard not to think of Justin, or to parallel the plot with their own accidental meeting. The more she read as the romance developed, the more vivid became the picture in her mind, and by the time she had finished the novel, a romantic interlude with Justin was firmly entrenched in her brain. She had drifted off into a restless sleep in the early hours of the morning, feeling his callused fingers on her soft sensitive skin, and dreaming of wildly passionate sexual scenes of them both together. 

# Chapter 9

The next morning came soon enough, and with it an early start. When her mother had knocked on the door to wake her up, she'd literally bounced out of bed with the excitement of what the day was to bring, and within the hour, they were out of the house and on their way. Her mother had insisted on driving, which was sensible to get to the hairdressers just around the corner, but it would prove to be a painful exercise on a Saturday morning to get into the city and find a car park that wasn't full. It didn't matter though, and there was no practical sense in arguing with her mother. She was at the controls and determined to get her daughter decked out with a couple of appropriate outfits, and to show her enthusiasm and support for her daughter's date with Justin tomorrow.

"For heaven's sake mum, I'm only going to the zoo. Let's try and keep things in perspective and keep this outfit practical."

"It will be dear," her mother replied, pulling up to park directly in front of the hairdressers. "Now let's go in and get something done with your hair."

Her mother bowled through the front door of the hairdressing salon with her in tow, to be greeted cordially by the owner, as a friend and client of many years should be.

"Clara, you remember my daughter, Suzanne?"

"Yeah sure. How are you Susie? Okay, spill the beans Mary. What's the special occasion?"

"Suzanne's got a hot date tomorrow," beamed her mother. "So we want her looking her best."

"Mum!"

They both laughed at her discomfort, and right then and there she knew her mother was about to embarrass her, by spilling the beans as Clara had demanded.

"She's got a date with JJ," shrieked her mother, grabbing Clara by the arm and bouncing her eyelids up and down.

"The gentle giant! Are you serious?"

"Yep, JJ and my little girl may be getting it on."

"Mum!"

Her plea fell on deaf ears. They stood there, two adult women, Clara and her mother, jiggling up and down and carrying on like a pair of oversexed school girls. Their actions left her totally bamboozled and feeling as if she were the recipient of a lucky door prize, with Justin as the prize.

"What's the secret?" she asked.

"Oh girlfriend, you don't know how lucky you are," said Clara, reaching up to buff her hair and look at it from different angles, before then directing a comment to her mother. "I knew by the sound in your voice when you rang me yesterday that something big was up. Why didn't you tell me then?"

"Well at the time, I was only speculating."

"Mum, you rang Clara to gossip about me and Justin?"

"Not to gossip dear, to brag."

Clara doubled over in hysterics.

"Is that what you meant yesterday about having to make a few phone calls, when you left me and Justin alone out on the back veranda? Who else did you ring?"

"Just a few of my friend's darling."

"What's the big deal?" she asked.

"It's JJ! He's the prize we're all after, but who nobody can get close to. He's the hunk with everything so well proportioned, or so we all suspect," explained Clara, waving her hands about wildly in the air, but once again turning to direct her question to her mother. "Mary, she won't let us down ... will she?"

"You'll give it your best shot, won't you dear?"

Suzanne began to giggle. It wasn't as if she didn't have amorous thoughts about the big guy, and without a doubt, he'd have to be well proportioned.

"For King and country, I swear," she replied, raising her right hand.

Clara was having trouble containing her excitement. She flittered around, to guide Suzanne to sit in the chair in front of the saloon sink, to then lean her head back over the wash basin, drape a towel around her chest and neck and turn on the water.

"Oh my god, this is so great Mary," she prattled. "Look, my assistant will be here soon and I'll get her started on you, but in the meantime let's get the guest of honour's preparation under way, then we can discuss how to present her."

"How do you know so much about Justin?"

"We used to travel in the same circles, and a lot of my single clients know him through arranged meetings, with the likes of your mother, who has at times had them around individually or in small social groups for afternoon tea on her back veranda, to conveniently coincide with JJ's seasonal visits."

"Mum! Is this true?"

"It adds a little spice to my life dear."

"But nobody can get beyond first base with the guy," said Clara.

"He's such a darling too, a real man's man."

"Oh yeah. No argument there Mary. He's the perfect gentleman, but ever since that bitch of a wife abandoned him and his daughter, he's been afraid of getting close to another female. You've met his daughter haven't you Mary? She's really so sweet. Nothing like her mother at all, thank goodness."

"No, I've never met her, but I feel as though I have. He talks about her all the time."

"Yeah, well I know JJ and his ex-wife from way back. My girls were in the same netball team as his daughter for years and years, and it was always JJ who brought her along to the Saturday morning competitions, and to training three night a week. His wife was always too busy to put herself out, always off doing her own thing, the selfish bitch. It never seemed to worry him though. He never got bitter or showed that he was resentful or anything like that, but we all knew something wasn't right, and that he was on borrowed time. Nobody expected him to take it as hard as he did though. His withdrawal was heart breaking to watch, and even though we all reached out to him with support, he still maintained his self-respect. He knows we've all got a soft spot for him, and he knows the game we've got going on behind his back to snare him. Maybe that scares him a little, I don't know. Anyhow, with Susie being an outsider of the salon, I reckon she stands a real good chance. How did you meet him Susie?"

Oh, hallelujah, she finally drew breath. Suzanne opened her mouth to speak, but was quashed by her mother.

"He saved her life on the railway platform."

"Get out of the city!" barked Clara, extracting her fingers from Suzanne's scalp with a shock/horror expression on her face.

Soap suds fell from her gloves as she stood in a semi-hypnotic state of immobility. Their bubbles glistened in the fluorescent light to reflect a rainbow of colours before bursting into tiny microscopic droplets. It seemed so weird that she had time to observe this before the gossip resumed with her mother dominating the floor.

"Yeah! Susie had a dizzy spell and fell in front of an oncoming train, and JJ literally saved her life, and here comes the best part, you couldn't possible guess in a million years what he wanted in return for saving her life."

Clara was hanging on every word as the soap suds dripped again.

"I don't know. His tax done."

A belly laugh erupted deep in Suzanne's stomach, to springboard its way out of her mouth with a fit of spluttering and coughing. Mary waited for her drum roll to finish, before emphasising what she was about to say with prominent hand gestures.

"A date! All he wanted was a date with Susie. The one we're getting her ready for right now."

Clara was flabbergasted. Her hands moved up and down, as she tried desperately to verbalise what the opening and closing of her mouth was not. Finally she got it out.

"We have a winner!" she blurted, standing to attention with her soapy hands on her hips. "Oh my goodness, this is serious, we finally have a winner!"

"I know, isn't it exciting."

"You might as well take the kitty now Mary, you've picked the winner."

"What!" spluttered Suzanne? "You were taking bets on the guy?"

"Too bloody right. Kitties up to five hundred dollars now, and thanks to you, it looks like Mary's got the money."

The situation seemed all too bizarre to be real, and by the time the hairdressing session was over, she felt as if she were an operative about to embark on a secret mission. With the backing of a fan club and a wealth of gossiped information, she was now the chosen one to be the slayer of his affections. Not that she took it seriously anyhow, but it all added to the anticipation and excitement of the pending date, and was all good fun. With the sideshow put to one side though, there still remained the fact that she was genuinely attracted to the guy, and there still existed that instantaneous sexual spark, so she wouldn't have to try real hard to get his undivided attention. Her body chemistry would be doing all the work, she would only be along for the ride.

Hopping into the car again with her mother at the wheel, she did feel vastly different than what she had when she'd first arrived at the hairdressers. She felt like the teenage daughter being pampered and swept up in everyone's excitement of her first date, and there was no time for melancholic thoughts, guilt or regrets.

"You're really enjoying this aren't you mum?"

"Too right I am."

"Why?"

"Oh come on darling, see it from my prospective. You're not wearing any wedding rings, you act on a letter you've hidden away for twenty years, and you conveniently faint in front of a train, to be saved by JJ, of all people. Then he turns up at my place a couple of hours later, totally unaware that you are there. Surely that's more than simple coincidence. And I saw the way you were looking at him, and the way he was looking back at you, and I noticed that you'd changed your clothes. On top of that, you've done a reconnaissance of Troy's restaurant and met his daughter. You're going on a date tomorrow with JJ, to all places, the zoo. And wait for it, and here's the best part, you're going there to possibly meet Troy."

"And the point to all of this, would be what?" she giggled.

"Go with it Susie, go with what you feel. This is a new beginning. Whether you realise it or not, you're on an adventure of a lifetime. Don't live with the regret of what may have been, or wait around like I did, life's too precious to waste."

This was the first time she'd ever heard her mother verbalise anything about her feelings relating to her own separation and divorce. Now her mother intended to wholeheartedly experience her daughter's adventure as a fantasy of her own, to compensate for the mistake of sitting at home feeling miserable, heart broken and rejected all those years ago. Hell yes, she would share these moments with her mother, and acknowledge the double joy and excitement that they could possibly bring. She reached across to lovingly squeeze her mother's hand with that understanding.

"Come on mum," she said. "Let's go shopping."

# Chapter 10

Suzanne fidgeted anxiously, feeling exactly like a school girl on her first date. Her mother sat in a chair beside her on the front veranda as they soaked up the 9.15am sunshine and waited for Justin to arrive. He had rung last night to say he'd pick her up at 9.30am, and to mention how much he was looking forward to visiting the zoo in her company. He also reminded her that the topography of the zoo was hilly, and suggested that she wear comfortable shoes as it could be a long day. "He's so practical dear," her mother had reinforced. "He's born of the earth."

In light of his suggestion they had pulled out the number two casual outfit from their shopping expedition. It screamed simplicity. A white T-shirt and black stretch jeans, complemented by a belt with a large silver buckle and a pair of aerodynamic white joggers with embossed blue sporty graphics. On top of that, she had pulled her now layered and streaked hair into a simple pony tail, and held it in place with a plane blue scrunchie to match the splash of colour on her joggers. To carry her feminine accessories, which including amongst other items, a screw top water container and a stand-by long sleeved white skivvy, she would be walking around the zoo with a small soft black leather backpack slung over her shoulders. She'd also be taking along her black leather coat as a backup, but would be leaving it in the car, unless the weather turned decidedly nasty at the last minute.

Anxious as she was, she'd been up since 6.00am this morning after tossing and turning all night, had showered, washed and blow dried her hair, had breakfast and rung her daughter in the States, all before 7.30am. Working out what make-up to put on seemed to have taken forever, and in the end had boiled down to a little eye shadow and mascara, the application of a non-glossy flesh coloured lipstick and a dab of perfume. "That's sensible and natural darling," her mother had advised. "It lets your skin breathe and shows off your beautiful complexion." And also with her mother's advice, they decided to leave her ears alone, with the proviso of dressing them up, should the date carry over to dinner at a restaurant later on.

"Mum, I'm not dressed too plainly am I?" she asked for the third time this morning.

"Heavens no girl, you've got style. You're dressed to suit the occasion and if he doesn't appreciate that, then I'm sadly mistaken and out of pocket five hundred dollars."

The fitting giggle they shared together as Justin's vehicle turned off the street and into the driveway brought back all the humour of yesterday's episode in the hairdressing salon. It seemed strange though, that in all this time of getting ready for Justin to arrive this morning, she hadn't thought of Troy until this very moment. After all, he was the reason why she had chosen to visit the zoo in the first place.

"Morning ladies," greeted Justin as he hopped out of the vehicle and moved towards them. "Nice day for it."

There he was doing it again. What was the 'it' he was referring to? Was 'it' the day at the zoo, or was 'it' the sexual tension that she was feeling. Had he also tossed and turned all night with wild erotic dreams, as she had for the past couple of nights. And oh my god, how desirable did he look right now? Those denims hugged his hips and sat so naturally on him. Their crutch filled out and creased in all the right places, and as he meandered towards them, the movement acted as a magnetic lure to draw her eyes to their epicentre. She felt a flush of heat flash over her body, and had no doubt that her mother was probably also being hypnotised by the same phenomena.

"Morning," they both responded in unison.

"You look smashing Suzanne."

His compliment came as he raised his right hand to pluck the iconic stockman's hat off his head. He then stood there with a cheeky grin on his face, stroking its light-blue/grey felt brim between his fingers and thumb, as he watched her rising from her seat. She knew her mother would approve of his action. In her generation the removal of the hat was a mark of respect to a lady, but that gesture, and the courtesy which went along with it, had been long lost with the wearing of caps. Nobody it seemed wore proper hats anymore, unless of course they were in a rodeo, or genuinely lived and worked in the bush under the strong Aussie sun. The hat did however suit his demeanour. Its brim was relative to the size of his head with a style that suited his face, its texture blended with his skin and its colour highlighted his blue/green eyes. She had seen him in another old battered earthy-brown stockman's hat three days ago when he'd turned up to her mother's place, and that one had also suited him. He was an outdoor type person who was always in the elements, so it only seemed natural he should wear a suitable hat.

"Thanks. So do you," she responded.

"I don't know if you're a hat person," he said, smiling broadly and being blatantly obvious he was perving on her backside as she bent over to pick up her coat and backpack. "But we'll be in the sun all day, so I took the liberty of bringing along my daughter's spare. Just in case you feel the need. It's in the car, if you'd like to borrow it."

Suzanne giggled.

"I've never worn a stockman's hat before, it may not suit me."

"Well let's have a quick look and get Mary's opinion."

He moved forward towards her with his eyes locked onto hers. She could feel their pull and knew she was being hypnotised by their magnetism. She felt grounded, unable to move away from or resist his advance as he came closer and closer, and suddenly there he was, standing right in front of her, practically nose to nose and placing his hat on her head. 'Oh my God,' she heard her little voice gasp, what had just happened? He had entered her zone with a silly hat, and it felt as though she couldn't breathe.

"What do you think Mary?"

The sound of his deep voice startled her, and although she hadn't closed her eyes the whole time, it felt as though she had just opened them. He was now standing back a couple of metres from her, with that larrikin grin on his face and his arms folded. Somehow he was now in control. Three days ago she had him on the back foot, but now, it had all been turned around.

"I think it suits her."

Her mother was snickering. This was ridiculous. She had to get back the control.

"Well, I think that it probably looks better on you then it does on me," she commented, twisting her head from side to side, to show the oversized hat flopping and floundering ungraciously on her head.

Having said that, she removing the hat, and holding its brim on opposite sides of the crown, she stepped forward to counter punch his previous delivery, by jamming it over his head and pulling down tightly on its sides so that he looked like a real dork.

"Now that's a better fit," she said, still firmly holding onto the dog eared sides and looking him square in the eyes with a tone that said, 'you follow my sexual lead fella.'

Justin's clean shaven face beamed with delight. His muscular jaw twitched, but refrained from making a comment, and his shoulders flexed in readiness. She could virtually feel his powerful arms sweeping around her waist to lock her in tightly, yet they remained stationary, waiting for an invitation to do so. She wouldn't be giving him that consent, not right now anyhow, and she wouldn't be the one to break eye contact first either. How long had they now been standing silent like this, not moving and staring one another down? It was probably only a prolonged second or two, but it felt a hell of a lot longer. He also knew what she was waiting for, and when he surrender and blinked, he looked at her lips and smiled, and just for a fleeting second she was convinced he was going to kiss her. A thin smirk crossed her face as she let go of the hat and lowered her arms down his chest, to then feel the palm of his hand in the small of her back.

"Are you ready to go?" he asked.

He let her slip away to approach her mother, and then proceeded to re-bash and restore his cranial pride and joy.

"Bye mum," she said, moving forward to peck her mother on the cheek as an excuse to whisper. "Don't wait up for me, this bloke has me so hot that I can't think straight."

Mary chuckled with delight, and as Suzanne turned away from her, she knew by the expression on Justin's face that her mother had just winked at him.

"Come on big fella," she said, wrapping her arm around his elbow. "Let's get this show, and your hat on the road."

Yep, there was no doubt about it. She was now in control again, and her mother's money was as good as in the bank.

The thirty minute drive to the zoo was virtually over before it had begun. His touring car, a late model Jeep patriot, made the journey enjoyable. It had all the trimmings, comfort, room and style that she was accustomed to. His choice of music was compatible with her own, and he had the courtesy to isolate it to the back two speakers so that it remained in the background. The drive however had broken the physical connection, and all the gains of their previous sexual bantering had been temporarily suspended. Upon parking and getting out of the vehicle, the hat issue reared its ugly head again, with him asking if she would like to borrow his daughter's spare. It was more of a courtesy gesture than anything else, and even though he had the hat in his hand when he offered, he already knew she'd decline, and with a flick of the wrist as if throwing a Frisbee, he tossed it back into the vehicle again.

"I apologise for any embarrassment earlier on," he said, snugly cradling his own onto his head. "Anyhow, you look too cute to hide under any hat."

She scrutinised his body language, looking for some sort of fake sincerity, as he double checked for the things that blokes double check for when they are about to walk away from their toys. No, she was sure his comment was genuine, and she could take it as a compliment. Then with a smile of satisfaction, a final pat of the pockets and a rattling of car keys, he offered her his arm.

"Are you ready, got everything?" he asked.

She smiled with that all-knowing smile which was universal to all women, the one that said, 'I've been twiddling my thumbs and patiently waiting for you to get your act together.'

"Ready as I'll ever be," she replied slipping her arm through his.

It was a fine start to their outing. Justin had already proved that he was reliable and punctual, considerate and sensitive, and that he had a great sense of humour. There was also no denying that he had the manners of a gentleman. This guy was a cut above the rest. She knew it, and so did everyone else at the hairdressing salon, otherwise why would he be so much in demand?

# Chapter 11

They entered the turnstiles to be greeted by the smells and noises of the confined animals. It seemed strange her senses hadn't detected these associated sounds and aromas prior to entering the zoo's perimeter. She could only deduce that it had something to do with the perception of awareness, and was probably the same reason why she couldn't see that Jack was cheating on her by having an affair with her best friend Jenny. She hadn't been standing back far enough to view what was going on, a case of not being able to see the forest for the trees. She flicked the thought process to one side. She had no intentions of being side-tracked and bogged today. Justin in the meantime had secured a map, with a brochure showing a program of today's events.

"What would you like to see?" he asked. "Anything in particular, or shall we just wander?"

She smiled, taking the brochure from him with the pretence of casually flipping through its contents. She knew what she was looking for, and bingo, there it was.

"I'm in your hands," she said. "Let's just wander."

She was feeling really uneasy and guilty about what she was doing, but for the reasons of authenticity, she had to make her deceit look spontaneous and genuine. Still giving the illusion that she was flipping through the pages as they strolled along, she stopped as though with an afterthought to draw his attention to a page in the brochure.

"Oh, this looks interesting. Could we see this display at 11.00am?"

He took the brochure, observing where her finger was pointing.

"Fur seal feeding and presentation. Sounds great."

He stood really close to her, twisting his head and the map around looking for distinguishing land marks as he deciphered the zoo map. She could practically hear his brain ticking away, and was half expected him to lift the brim of his hat with his forefinger and go into some macho explanation about how they would handle this expedition, but it didn't come.

"Cool!" he said closing the brochure and handing it back to her.

That was it ... 'cool'! She chuckled to herself, slipping her arm around his waist, to hook her fingers under his belt. He seemed surprised, but had probably sensed her body reverberating from the suppressed chuckle at his unexpected candid comment, and was confusing it with a shiver. He reciprocated by placing his arm around her, to pull her in close to his body with the palm of his hand on her shoulder.

"Are you feeling a bit cool?"

"A little," she lied.

His physical contact felt electrifying, and her body was acknowledging that fact. She crossing her other arm across her breasts to hide her obvious swelling nipples, and to let the palm of her hand come to rest on his chest. There was no sense or practical gain to be achieved by not touching him, and they couldn't be expected to be tortured and go through the entire day denying the physical urges. It had to start somewhere, and it was better to be comfortable with him right now.

"This feels really nice Suzanne."

It felt wonderful to be complimented and held in a non-sexual way, but that's not to say that she wasn't feeling aroused. The sexual entity inside her was more restless than most of the animals trapped here behind their bars. She was wishing however, that she'd worn a heavier type T-shirt or had taped her nipples or something. Their constant swelling was becoming all too obvious to be not noticed by the general public and was bordering on becoming embarrassing. Justin had noticed, and he couldn't be so naive as to blame the fresh breeze. He was a student of observation, that's what made him such a good horticulturist.

She knew he was looking for a bodily response from her, as he gentle massaged her neck and shoulder muscles with his thumb and fingers as they strolled along. She was allowing him to touch her in a way that excited her, and she could sense his excitement the moment her body dynamics gave her away. It fuelled the flames of his own fire too. Heat and perspiration literally poured out of the palms of his hands, and the occasional glance at the bulge in his denims, and the way that he was walking with a peculiar stiffened gait, was a dead giveaway to his amorous discomfort.

She certainly wasn't immune to the chemical and physical domino effect which was taking place within both of them, but short of breaking contact and going their own separate ways, it was sure to continue. And with her arousal so prominent, she was becoming a little self-conscious of her own feminine scent, and was concerned whether it was detectable to anyone else moving close by. To that end, she was grateful for the other mixed animal odours which saturated the air to mask her own, and thankful also to the throng of visitors who milled about from exhibit to exhibit, to bring her back to the reality of where she actually was. However, there was no doubt in her mind that if the zoo was closed and there was nobody around, then she could easily lose control and make love to the guy right now.

It was probably only timely a few minutes later, that Justin should guide her away from the crowd, to settle under a big old corral tree and to back her up against its trunk and pin her there. He couldn't take the torture any longer and she certainly wasn't objecting. He lent firmly against her, wrapping his arms around her waist to pull her into his muscular body and into contact with his throbbing groin. She instantly felt light-headed and weak in the knees, and had to desperately resist the primal impulse to rip at his clothes and give in to her lustful desires. Instead she unleashed her arms, shooting her hands up to clamp them either side of his face, to dig her fingers in and pull his lips down upon hers with an urgency expressing the starvation of contact which had been missing out of her life for so long. Strangely, the reckless moment of passion quelled the overbearing sexual urges, but brought tears to her eyes as a flood of emotion rampaged through her psyche. Shocked and embarrassed at her behaviour, she opened her eyes, dragged her teeth off his bottom bleeding lip and released her locked fingers from his jaw.

"Oh Justin, I'm so sorry," she spurted, urgently extracting a tissue from her pocket to dab at the trickle of blood. "I don't know what came over me."

"It's okay," he consoled. "It's the zoo. It brings out the wild beast in everyone."

"I kind of lost control," she said, removing the tissue from his lip to look him squarely in the eye.

"So did I, and I should be the one apologising to you. I brought you here and I've led you astray. My actions were totally inappropriate, particularly in a public place such as this with families and children everywhere."

It was true, there was a time and place for everything, and here was neither the time nor place to display amorous behaviour or sexual urges. And he did understand the uncontrollable nature of those urges, his tongue had been further down her throat, than hers had been down his.

Taking her hand, he guided her to a sunny spot a couple of metres away, to sit on the grass and draw her down beside him.

"You're a unique woman Suzanne," he said taking the tissue from out of her hand to hold it on his bleeding lip. "I believe you've come into my life at just the right time."

"I feel a bit that way too, but why do you say that?"

"Because my life was empty, and I believe that fate played a huge part in our accidental meeting. There are very few women who can affect me like you have. The first time I held you in my arms, right from the moment when I snatched you from the jaws of death and laid you gently down on the platform with the wind knocked out of you, to when I picked you up again and assist you to a bench seat on the station, I knew by the way my body was reacting that you had the power to bring me back to life. I was so nervous just sitting beside you. My heart was racing, my veins were dilated and I was perspiring like crazy. And the way I was feeling had nothing at all to do with the rush of adrenalin in my system from having saved your life a couple of minutes earlier."

"That's very honest Justin, but have no illusions ..."

He cut her off, placing a finger on her lips.

"Suzanne ... no expectations, no disappointments. I'm just trying to be honest with you, that's all."

"Can I ask you a personal question?"

"Sure."

"How long has it been since you were last in a relationship?"

"Two years ago."

"With your wife?"

"Yes."

"And no short term relationships since then?" she asked in disbelief.

"The question I think you're skirting around, is how long has it been since I last had sex, and the answer to that question is two years.

"That's a long period of celibacy."

"Yes, but they say it's like riding a bike. You can never forget."

She started to giggle, and just for a second or two as they made brief eye contact, she saw the emotional pain which was hidden behind the humour and the smile on his face.

"Could you tell me why?"

"I guess I'm afraid of being hurt again."

It was an honest admission which came with the distraction of massaging the palm and fingers of her hands.

"You've got soft hands."

"Go on, you can't stop now."

"There's really nothing more to say. My wife left me, I was hurt, I got over it, but now I'm afraid of bearing my soul and getting hurt again."

"I guess I can understand that. I don't know if I could ever truly trust another man again."

For a few long seconds there was a silence between them, as they both reflected on the ramifications of what they'd shared, before Justin suddenly reacted.

"Struth! Come on," he said looking at his watch and jumping to his feet with his arm extended. "We've got to hurry. We've got a fur seal presentation to attend in fifteen minutes."

# Chapter 12

Suzanne's liver dropped. The blood drained from her face and she instantly felt nauseous. It was crazy, but she'd temporally forgotten about her dual role here today, and now she was about to be confronted by that reality. She took Justin's hand, and as he pulled her to her feet, he noticed her ashen appearance.

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah I'm fine, just felt a little dizzy standing up that's all."

But that wasn't all. Suddenly she felt as though she was cheating on him. She had effectively manipulated and used him to her own advantage while she played out her own game of fantasy. _"When the time is right, your heart and soul will guide you to me."_ The problem was, those words now seemed to have a dual meaning. Sure, they were written by Troy, but Justin had fundamentally used them a couple of minutes ago with his reference to fate and their accidental meeting. Troy and Justin's identity seemed to be merging into one, and she had to wonder whose stage play she was actually acting in. The only one out of the picture at the moment seemed to be Jack, and she still had a lot of leg work to do, to finally close the door on him.

Justin held her hand, and practically pulled her along as they briskly walked the downhill track towards the exhibit. He had a mental map in his head, and didn't hesitate as to which path to take when it came to a fork in the road, or slow up to see something else which may have been of interest to them both. This was all happening too quickly, and she had to consciously resist the temptation to apply the brakes, fearful that she would not only offend his sense of duty to get her to the exhibit on time, but would also have to come up with a nonsensical excuse as to why she now didn't want to see the seal presentation. This had been such a bad idea. She could catch up with Troy at his restaurant any night of the week, without involving Justin or anyone else.

Within minutes they had rounded the last bend to come face to face with the exhibit down by the waters edge. She felt a rush of anxiety, the feeling not unlike the one she'd experienced two days earlier whilst hesitantly standing across the street from Troy's restaurant. A crowd had already gathered thank goodness, and practically all the front and middle row seats were taken up with children and their guardians, so they were forced to sit up in the back row, and that suited her just fine. Justin was concerned about heads getting in her way to block her vision, but she wasn't really listening to what he was saying, and although she smiled and nodded in the appropriate places as he enlightened her about the advantages of his own height, her mind was elsewhere with a dozen questions circulating around in her brain.

Would Troy actually appear as the program said he would? How would she feel if he didn't show and another presenter took his place? Would she be relieved or would there be a tinge of disappointment? And what would he look like now, and how would she react and feel about seeing him after twenty years? She found herself mentally reading the words in his letter over and over again, with the vision of Priscilla's portrait flashing through her mind.

"Are you all right Suzanne?"

Justin's voice jerked her back to reality.

"Sorry," she said, coming out of the fog.

"I asked if you were all right. Your hands are hot and clammy and your pulse is racing."

"I think I may have had a little too much sun. Could I possibly borrow your hat for a while?"

Of course he was delighted. Why wouldn't he be? It proved he'd been right in the first place. Be practical, be prepared, that was his motto. He probably did his training as a boy scout in his youth. He handed it over without saying a word. He didn't have to, the smirk on his face and puffed out chest said it all.

It felt terrible to deceive him and she simply wanted to hide. She wanted to view all of this anonymously from behind some invisible screen, just like she had done a couple of days earlier from behind the kitchen window of her mother's home when Justin had turned up unexpectedly. Feeling more secure and protected by hiding under his hat, she crossed her legs and relaxed a little, but still sat close to him with her arm wrapped around his elbow and holding his hand while they waited patiently for the demonstration to begin. For whatever the reason, he was perceptive enough to sense her uneasiness, but was also intuitive enough not to ask any question. Perhaps he was being consoled by being her protector, perhaps for the very same reason why he planted a peppercorn tree in each corner of client's backyard, as a domineering feature to watch over their domain.

The minutes moved comfortably by as they sat in silence, soaking up the atmosphere and listening to the sounds and expressions of excited children anxiously waiting for the show to start. Then without warning, there was a whoosh of water in the pool, the shimmering of light dancing on its surface, and the flash of two grey entities shooting out of the pool's belly, to plonk and flounder on its perimeter edge. The audience was hushed to silence. Suzanne elevated the brim of her hat a couple of degrees with the expectation of what was to come. Then the presenter walked out onto stage and her heart jumped into her mouth. He hadn't said a word, he didn't have to. His movements and body language gave him away. How could she ever forget? She had been reminded of those characteristics, after having observed them in his daughter Sandy, two days earlier at the restaurant.

"Good evening fellow environmentalists," he began, with her heart belting like crazy. "My name is Troy. I'm a Marine Biologist, and these furry friends beside me are Bill and Bob."

Both seals responded to their names, with a bark and a wave of their flippers, all to the absolute delight of the audience. Then, triggered by a silent signal, they both scuttled to their respective locations, to await their handler's instruction.

"Before I start, I would like to take this opportunity to thank everybody for showing their interest in finding out a little more about our fur seals. I would also like to invite anyone who has a question they would like answered, to approach me after this presentation, and I'll do my level best to answer them."

Suzanne was spellbound. Troy was such a good entertainer. He had the hypnotic pull to captivate an audience and keep them eating out of his hand, and she could feel his lure tugging in her direction. How was it that she'd ever said no to this magician? Even Justin was responding. He was as captivated as everyone else, or maybe he was sensing her excitement and reacting accordingly.

"You will no doubt have noticed how immobile I'm standing ..." said Troy.

Yes, that was obvious now that he had mentioned it. He stood firmly, his feet barely centimetres apart, with one hand resting on an open flip-top canister attached to his waist belt, and the other holding a red and white soccer ball securely to his body. Facing the audience, and talking without the use of his hands, he deliberately ignored the two furry friends sitting either side of him, looking up at him with those cute wide extra-terrestrial eyes. On the bottom half of his body he wore a pair of white gumboots and bright yellow waterproof pants, which suited the wet environment in which he worked. On the top half, he wore a white T-shirt with the words, "Save Our Marine Creatures," adorned on the chest, and on his head he wore a baseball cap with the zoo's logo and microphone fitted, which gave him the authority of being in control.

"This is because these seals have been trained to respond to the slightest bodily movements. As a simple demonstration, in a moment I am going to move my right knee. To you the audience, that's the one on your left as you are facing me. This will be a signal to Bob ..."

Troy slowly moved his head sideways, to look at Bob, to acknowledge that he was paying attention and had responded to his name. Then to the laughter of the audience, Troy flipped him a fish out of the canister on his hip, to have it caught and gulped down by the rocking creature.

"Like I was saying, this will be a signal for, 'you know who,' to be ready for me to toss him this ball that I'm holding. Are you ready, wait for it, here it comes."

Troy had primed the audience beautifully. He was the master of the situation, but when the subtle leg movement came, it was Bob who took delivery of the ball to balance it on his nose. It was now Bob, and his jealous friend Bill, who would from that moment on, steal the hearts of the audience to become the focal point of the presentation.

Suzanne felt all warm and gooey inside as she watched these delightful creatures frolicking and misbehaving in and out of the water. She envied the skill and rapport of Troy in his handling of these creatures and of the audience, to provide the balance of entertainment and education necessary to highlight not only the seals' plight, but also that of their environment. As the show continued, she clung onto Justin's arm, feeling like a little girl, all bright-eyed and bushy-tailed, sitting on the edge of her seat, just waiting for that special awe-inspiring moment to shock the system and have the finger nails digging in.

Other than ageing though, Troy hadn't physically changed, and to look at him now, nobody would suspect the emotional trauma he had endured. But that stoicism, along with the love of life and living life to the fullest, had been his most admirable qualities. In his letter he had said, _"Sometimes a love comes along that feels so right, and you know within your heart that it's meant to be."_ If his love for Priscilla was as passionate and as fulfilling as that he portrayed with these fur seals, then she must have died feeling rewarded at having lived, loved and shared a life with a man such as Troy. Was it possible he could love like that again? _"I will always love you, no matter what. One day we will be together again."_ He had written this letter before he had met Priscilla. Perhaps this letter and those words were always meant for her.

Wow! Suddenly the show was over. Where had all the time gone? Everyone was clapping and preparing to move, and Justin was rising from his seat.

"I'm just ducking down to ask Troy a question or two. Do you feel all right? Would you like to come along, or would you rather sit here for a minute or so until I get back?"

She panicked. For goodness sake, what was Justin on about? He was a horticulturalist who worked with plants and the earth, couldn't he leave the curiosity of the ocean and its creatures to somebody else?

"I'll ... I'll come along in a minute."

She smiled warily at him, feeling his hand slip out of hers as he seized the moment and bounded down the stairs two at a time towards the waiting magician. Now what was she supposed to do? She had his permission to sit here and remain anonymous. She could do that, and then she could go home and mull things over for a while, and then when she felt better prepared, she could present herself at the restaurant when Troy was there. That would be the sensible thing to do, that way there would be no embarrassment to anyone. But no! The lure was too strong. She had to move closer to his gravitational pull. Dear lord, she was actually out of the seat and moving, taking one step after another, down the stairs and towards the small gathered crowd.

Justin had his back to her and Troy was talking with excitement to a couple of teenagers as she approached. His hands were pointing to the water and towards the stage, with his body mimicking the seal's movements, when he threw his head back and laughed with obvious delight at their reactions and comments. She was totally hypnotised by his persona, he seemed to have it all together and seemed to be so much in control, and it was then, at that very moment, that he first noticed her. Perhaps it was the way that she was dressed, or the way she edged her way down the stairs too cautiously, or the fact that she was by herself, or maybe it was the stupid hat which drew his attention to her, but for whatever reason, she was now obvious.

Having reached the bottom of the stairs, she casually propped herself against the wall of the pool, and within five metres of where Troy was now talking to Justin on his own. She tried to adopt a laid-back appearance of waiting for her partner, but it wasn't working. In a way, it was a foregone conclusion that her body language would display the trepidation which she was feeling, a display that no doubt prompted Troy to ask the question.

"Is this young lady waiting for you?"

Justin turned his head and smiled with surprise. Shit, they were both smiling.

"No hurry," she said, with her eyes barely visible from under the floppy hat.

"Suzanne had a touch of the sun and was feeling a bit nauseous, so I lent her my hat."

"Oh, that's no good. Would you like a paracetamol Suzanne?" asked the Good Samaritan, stepping forward in her direction with Justin in tow. "We have a first-aid station just around the corner."

Oh shit! They were both on her personal space and Justin's mouth was moving.

"Suzanne, are you okay? Troy just asked you if you'd like a paracetamol tablet to settle your nauseousness."

Justin knew there was something not quite right, by the way her eyes were fixed and staring on the man who stood behind him. He turned, looking perplexed, to see a similar stony-faced and distant look of confusion on Troy's face. Turning back to Suzanne, he gently gripped her by the elbow to give her arm a little shake.

"Hey, are you okay?" he asked again.

She smiled thinly, arching her head forward to simultaneously reach up with both hands to take off the hat.

"Yes I'm fine. Just a bit shaken, that's all."

Raising her head, she combed her fingers through her hair to flick it backwards, to then look Troy squarely in the eyes.

"How are you Troy? Long-time no-see."

# Chapter 13

The first obvious sign that Suzanne saw of her deceitfulness, was the slumping of Justin's shoulders. He was hurt. He didn't as of yet know why he should feel hurt, but his questioning body language told her she'd handled this all so inappropriately. He would no doubt come to the conclusion that she had used him, and for some stupid reason, she saw herself being stuck on first base with all those other gossiping women at the hairdressing saloon. Her heart felt dark as she stared from one to another and back again, waiting for an eternity it seemed, for Justin to say something or for the penny to drop in Troy's corner.

"Susie ... Suzanne!"

Bingo! The light of recognition found a connection, and with it trickled a muscular movement of open arms. She stepped forward for the 'long-time no-see' hug, but kept her eyes on Justin as she did. The surprised look on his face was genuine enough, and was not one born of jealousy or malice, but his eyes clearly reflected the hurt of being deceived. His brain was no doubt recalling and dissecting conversations leading up to the zoo's visit, and to this convenient, coincidental meeting.

Troy's initial verbal reaction was somewhat similar to that of Justin's a couple of days ago, with his excited spluttering of the what, where and how's, but it somehow lacked the same impact. The physical contact of his hug felt genuine enough, but she found herself holding back because of Justin's presence and the associated guilt which went along with it. The emotional moment however, was not only tarnished but also ruined, and for that she felt extremely sad. She wanted to feel the rush, feel the passion and the emotion of coming home. She wanted to blurt out that she had found his letter, and let him know that through fate and destiny, her heart and soul had been guided back to him. She wanted to tell him, that after twenty years she was now here to pick up the pieces and take up where they had left off. But she couldn't.

Irrationally in that moment, she blamed Justin and wished he wasn't here. Why wasn't he perceptive enough to understand what this moment meant to her? Why couldn't he just volunteer to take a hike and take his stupid hat with him, to go and look at some goddamn plants or something? But he wasn't going to, was he? No! She had hurt his feelings, and now it was payback time and he was going to ruin this moment for her. Suzanne knew she was feeling agitated, and her little voice was chastising her to be careful, reminding her that her venom was misdirected, but she couldn't help herself. This was all his fault. He was the one who wanted to come down here and talk to Troy, not her, she was prepared to walk away and savour this experience for another day.

"Hi Troy. I'm Justin," said Justin, breaching the awkward moment to introduce himself by extending his hand in Troy's direction. "But my friends call me JJ."

"JJ, real nice to meet you. You're Susie's second husband?"

"No, just a friend. I only met Suzanne a couple of days ago."

Justin's comment was a little too honest, and it left the field wide open for clarification.

"I don't believe it's you Susie. Whatever happened to Jack?"

"We had an altercation and I left him."

"I'm sorry. Look we won't go down that track. Tell me how you found me? Did you come here to see me? Did you know I worked here?"

She could feel the weight of Justin's eyes upon her, as her mother's childhood words circled like a buzzard loud and clear in her ears, _"oh what a tangled web we weave, when first we practice to deceive."_ Now she had no choice, she had to lie. Surely though she could get away with one little fib. Her brain raced ahead at a million miles an hour, pre-empting various scenarios of how she could possibly be caught out.

"No! I didn't actually," she said automatically looking at her feet as she spoke. "Justin and I decided to spend the day walking around the zoo, and this is where we have so far ended up."

Surely that must have sounded authentic. She glanced at Justin. What was he doing, dragging out that damn brochure and flipping through its pages? Yeah that would be right, he was checking to see if there was a name associated with the seal presentation. Oh shit! That had to be it.

"Listen we must catch up. What's it been, twenty years or so? There's so much to talk about. I've got so much to share with you Susie."

Troy gave her a pleading look, a look which at any other time would have melted her heart. He could also no doubt read her disconcerted body language and sense that something wasn't sitting quite right between Justin and herself, and was perhaps concerned that she'd slip away before they'd had a chance to reconnect again. It was an unsettling situation, and further agitated by the fact that Justin was still flipping through that damn brochure. Surely he'd found it by now, surely he knew she had lied and deceived him. It was obvious that he was looking for a way out, but it was Troy who offered a peace offering to defuse the awkward situation.

"Look, my daughter and I own a restaurant in Chatswood. It's called Priscilla's. It's a vegetarian restaurant, and I'd like very much for both of you to share a meal with me. It would also give me the perfect opportunity to introduce you to my daughter. What do you say, will you both join me?"

Justin stopped turning the pages on the zoo brochure, to look up and make a comment.

"The one near the corner, across from the mall with the beautiful portrait on the wall?"

"Yes!"

"That's a nice little place. I've eaten there a number of times."

Suzanne's shoulders slumped. What had she done?

"Then you know it, excellent. Would you and Susie join me for a meal one night? On the house of course."

Oh shit, what was happening here?

"Do you know it Susie?" he asked, obviously feeling that maybe she did.

"Ahh ... No!" she lied.

Why was she doing this to herself? Was she trying to protect Justin's feelings, or trying to protect her own? Either way, she was now in too deep.

"Troy thanks for the offer, and I can only speak for myself, but I'd love to join you, as long as it's okay with Suzanne, so I'll leave the decision up to her. In the meantime, I might slip off and check out the reptile handling presentation which is due to begin in five minutes."

Justin turned to face her front on with an understanding smile on his face.

"I'll leave you two alone to catch up on old times, and I can meet up with you here," he said pointing to the open page. "At this kiosk in what ..."

He looked at Troy, spreading his hands apart.

"According to this brochure, you have another presentation in sixty minutes, is that right?"

Troy glanced at his watch and nodded.

"So I'll meet you at the kiosk in about an hour, okay."

He looked at her for confirmation. She could have hugged him and cried, but a mouse like squeak of, "okay," was the best her pathetic little brain could come up with. And with that confirmation, he turned to walk away, but then as an afterthought stopped, turned and directed a question to Troy.

"Your daughter wouldn't happen to be the bubbly little hostess who first greets patrons when they walk into the restaurant, would she?"

"That's the one."

"Yeah I thought so. I can see the resemblance. Nice to have met you Troy."

Then he was gone. Suzanne felt strangely empty as she watched him stride away. She had been too quick to condemn him, and now felt as though she should run after him, to beg his forgiveness and feel his powerful arms embrace her with understanding. But Troy was distracting her reactive instinct, by flattering and complimenting her on how good she looked. She had waited and fantasised for a long time to hear him say these words, but right now they weren't having the impact on her as they should have. Right now she felt as if she were in mourning, feeling as though she was losing, not only Justin, but also something of herself. She could feel some of the essence of her life force attached to, and being dragged up the hill with him, stretching and stretching like a rubber band that would soon break. She could see his head and shoulders still bouncing above the crowd as he topped the hill. He hadn't looked back, he wasn't going to, and as he rounded the bend and disappeared, the rubber band snapped. It recoiled, to sting her hard. She didn't feel complete. Part of her life force had chosen to stay with the gentle giant.

"Justin seems like a nice bloke, how did you meet him?"

It seemed appropriate to talk about him, to say something nice, something redeeming.

"He saved my life. I had a giddy attack and fell in front of an approaching train."

"Wow! When was that?"

"A couple of days ago. This was sort of a date of appreciation, and now I've kind of burst his bubble and hurt his feelings"

"By running into me. Oh Susie I'm sorry."

"No, it's not your fault, it's mine. I didn't accidentally run into you, I knew you were here and wanted to see you. I just didn't know it would work out like this and end up ruining the moment for everyone."

"He seems like an understanding guy, I'm sure he'll forgive you."

"Maybe, but I shouldn't have deceived him."

"You came searching for me, didn't you, not just to catch up with me?"

"I think my adventure with Jack is over, and I heard from my mother that a section of your life was also over. I'm so sorry for your loss Troy, you must have loved her very much."

Tears sprung to her eyes, as she looked into his and a thousand memories came rushing back. He responded to her emotion, moving in to wipe away the tears from her cheeks with the pad of his thumbs, before giving her a comforting hug and not letting go.

"Yes, I loved her very much. I still do and I always will. You of all people should understand my spiritual philosophy. You know I believe that one day we will all be together again."

Those words were so comforting and so warm. Perhaps he was talking about Priscilla's and his own spirits being together in an afterlife, but it didn't matter, it didn't offend her. The thought of a collection of like souls, a family of souls, all reuniting to chew the fat after their earthly assignments were over, felt so good. She clung to him tightly, resting her chin on his shoulder and relaxing her head against his. She had always been able to communicate with him on this deep spiritual level, a level that went way beyond just simply talking, and she had to ask herself, how it was that she had ever let him go.

"I kept the last letter you wrote to me," she confessed. "I hid it in the ceiling of the family home, under a fibreglass bat."

He listened, not interrupting, just rocking her gently and holding her tight.

"Jack cheated on me with my best friend, and in the depths of my despair I took a walk in a violent thunderstorm to clear my head, and that's when I remembered your letter. You said that one day my adventure would be over, and when I realised the essence of what was missing from my life to make me feel complete, then my heart and soul would guide me to you. You were right."

"You kept a letter of mine for all these years?"

"I've really missed you Troy. I didn't know how much until right now."

She snuggled into his body. It was strange she didn't feel the slightest bit sexual, quite on the contrary, it felt comfortable, protected and warm, like lying in front of an open fire on a woollen rug.

"I love you Susie," he said, breaking apart to kiss her tenderly on the lips and to look meaningfully into her eyes. "I will always love you."

Somehow the time had slipped by, and he too had to leave. She stood silent and alone, with his business card in her hand, the taste of his breath lingering on her lips, and a floating promise that she would ring him echoing in the void which separated them. He didn't look back either, and once again she could feel part of her spiritual essence departing with him, to stretch like an elastic band to its breaking point as he also rounded the corner and disappeared from sight. As to how much of her own life force would still belong to her before this adventure was over, she had no idea. But she'd made a conscious decision to open all the doors and take a peek at what lay behind them, and now in the process, she was discovering a whole lot more about herself, and of her feelings, than what she had previously taken for granted.

She had no doubt that the part of herself which had snapped off and chosen to stay with both Justin and Troy, would also act as a magnetic lure to drag her back in a tug of war competition for the victory of her affections. Likewise she could also feel both Troy's and Justin's spiritual essences within her, with each arguing and bantering for dominance, each pulling at her body, mind, heart and soul. It was a good thing she was seeing Dr Curlewis tomorrow morning. Perhaps he would prescribe an anti-anxiety drug such as Valium to calm her down and settle her moods.

By the time she had caught up with Justin, the day was dashed, and although they occasionally touched one another as a guiding gesture, the previous chemistry and sexual spark were gone. They wandered around, visited a couple of exhibits and engaged in small talk for a while before deciding they had both seen enough. Then somehow they slid from the perfect romantic picture, to drive home and politely thank one another for a delightful day out, with a kiss on the cheek as a farewell gesture. Justin had left her with the offer to contact him if she desired. He said that their obligatory date was over, and if he didn't hear from her again, then it had been his honour to have met her and had wished her the best for the future. Then he'd driven away.

She had stood in her mother's driveway for a while after he'd gone. She was remembering herself sitting in that taxi outside her home in the States only a few days earlier, waiting to be driven to the airport to fly to Australia. She could clearly visualise Jack standing in the gutter looking like a vagrant after their altercation, and now she felt just like he probably had, alone, empty and emotionally destitute. Everything seemed to be turning full circle.

# Chapter 14

She didn't have to turn around to know her mother was waiting in the wings. It was her little girl's first date, and more importantly it was a date with Justin. She would have stayed at home all day, or stayed awake all night if necessary, just to hear her daughter come home and know in her mind that everything was alright. Mothers had a tendency to do that.

"Are you okay darling?"

Her mother knew instinctively something was not quite right. She hesitantly approached, but was being apprehensive about reaching out to touch her daughter.

"I'm okay," she blubbered, gasping for breath but standing her ground and not yet ready to let her mother in.

The truth is, she was not okay. Conflicting emotions were erupting inside her and she was fighting desperately to keep them suppressed. Her mother waited silently, patiently, just off to one side and visible in her peripheral vision. Suzanne took a deep breath and dried her moisten eyes with the sleeve of her T-shirt.

"I'm okay, honestly mum," she repeated, turning to face her front on.

Her mother looked like she felt. Mary had no idea what had transpired today, but for whatever the reason, she was willing to absorb and share her daughter's pain, and all at once Suzanne could see a version of herself in her mother, and the flood gates opened. She sobbed freely in her mother's arms and when she was done she could barely stand. It was as if all her emotions had been stored in her muscles and bones, and now they'd been released, her body felt like jelly.

"I blotched it mum! Justin is a great bloke and I deceived him. Troy is a great bloke and I ruined a memorable moment. I lied to them both, and that makes me just as bad as Jack."

"Don't be so hard on yourself darling," her mother counselled as she rocked her daughter gently. "According to this month's issue of the singles guide, 'Dateless and Desperate,' deception, intrigue and a little white lie are allowable, and considered by some in the female liberation movement, to be essential and desirable attributes in a woman's arsenal to be able to get her man."

Suzanne giggled like a little girl.

"You always did know how to cheer me up."

"Good. Now we're over that, tell me everything that happened today."

~ ~ ~

Suzanne slept like the dead, waking up in the same position she'd lain down in. She felt one hundred percent better for the good night's sleep, and that probably had everything to do with the release of her pent up emotions. She felt so good in fact, that the thought of cancelling her doctor's appointment even crossed her mind. But she didn't, and after showering and having a light breakfast, was ready to take on the day. She had no idea what to do with her time once the doctor's appointment was over, but decided she would return to base and then play it by ear after that. Maybe she would just simply hang around the house and enjoy the privacy and spring sunshine while it lasted.

Her mother had insisted that she take the car for the day, as she was being picked up by a friend this morning and would be spending the day at the bowling club, putting in a bit of practice and organising an upcoming tournament with the other committee members. It was always a strange sensation though, getting used to sitting behind the steering wheel on the other side of the car and driving on the other side of the road. That mindfulness of being constantly aware of where she was all the time, and of the road rules which applied, was something she always had trouble coming to grips with as she travelled back and forth from her home in America to visit her mother in Australia. Nevertheless, she was thankful for her mother's offer and would borrow her car rather than waiting around for a taxi to arrive.

Her appointment was at 11.00am, in thirty minutes time, and with most of the morning traffic already off the road and the surgery only ten minutes away, there was no better time than now to get behind the wheel and allay those anxieties. As it turned out, it had been a piece of cake and nothing to have been worried about at all. She knew the route and the back streets of the suburb like the back of her hand, and the car park behind the surgery always had ample space for parking, so it had been a stress free drive without any incidents. She had stepped out of the car with the feeling as though she had just passed her learner's test, and was walking into the building to receive her provisional driver's licence. Oh what a magic moment of freedom that had been, not just for herself, but for every teenager at that stage of their life, to all of a sudden have the total independence to come and go as they pleased.

Stepping through the front surgery door, to be confronted by the reality of where she was, shattered the illusions and nostalgic feelings of those pleasant memories. An expectation of pending doom and gloom descended over her body. It was sort of floating in the air, an atmosphere of negative vibrations waiting to attach themselves to whoever walked through the door. What was it about surgeries anyhow that brought fears to the surface? Suzanne shuddered involuntary. There was nothing to be worried about, this was just a routine check-up, that's all. She gave her name to the receptionist, picked up a magazine and then sat down amongst the other patients to wait her turn to be called.

In an attempt to ignore what was going on around her in the waiting room, she tried to zone out by concentrating on an article of interest she'd found whilst flipping through the pages of the magazine, but she couldn't. And as much as the piped music attempted to subdue those waiting, it paled to insignificance as compared to the pitiful whimpering of a young boy holding his stomach, and of his distressed mother on the other side of the room. The child was ashen and visibly shaking and he didn't look at all well, but he still somehow managed to hold a chunder bucket tightly to his chest for his safekeeping. His mother's eyes pleaded with those of the receptionist to move things along, and not going unnoticed, the receptionist's calming voice came back with the reassurance that everything would be okay, and that the doctor would be seeing the child any minute now.

After a couple of minutes, the emotional discomfort of the child's misery was becoming all too much, and she was about to step outside for a short reprieve and a breath of fresh air, when a doctor appeared to assist the child to his diagnosis room. A sense of relief jointly passed over the entire waiting room.

"Kids, who would ever have them," joked one woman sitting beside her teenage daughter with a plastered arm.

Her comment somehow lightened the load. There was nothing like someone else's misery to take your mind off your own problems, and to make you feel better about yourself in the process. Suzanne smiled to herself as she listening to the spontaneous conversation which had erupted between mothers, in a one-upmanship battle for supremacy of the most accident prone child. She had a few incidents of her own which she would love to have shared, but her tongue was kept silent by Dr Curlewis's timely appearance.

"Nice to see you again Suzanne" he greeted, closing the door behind them. "How's that business of yours going over there in the States?"

He was a kindly old soul, bit of a babbler, but still sharp as a tack, and although he was probably the same age as her mother, his movements mirrored those of a much older man.

"The reason for your visit today," he asked lifting his head from her updated file. "Would be what, a check-up, or is it something a little more sinister?"

He reminded her a little of Alfred Hitchcock with his portly frame. She could almost visualise his shadowy profile on the wall, and the thought brought a giggle to her lips.

"No, nothing sinister. Just a check-up. I haven't been feeling quite myself."

"Haven't stabbed or shot anyone lately, have we?" he asked dryly.

"No, not that I can recall anyhow"

"Oh good, then we can tick that off the list."

He smiled, and having dispensed with the small talk, was now prepared to give her his undivided attention.

"You'd better tell me about this other personality then. What seems to be the problem?"

"I know it's probably only jet lag, and that I'm more than likely only tired and stressed, but ..."

"Well you let me be the judge of that."

"A couple of days ago, I had a dizzy spell and fell in front of an oncoming train. Someone saved me of course, otherwise I wouldn't be standing here, but for a while now I've also been pretty emotional."

"As in crying, depression, what?"

"Just all sorts of churned up emotions. Happy one minute, sad the next. I'm constantly reminiscing and becoming melancholic. Maybe I'm entering menopause."

He pulled out his stethoscope and sphygmomanometer as she was speaking, and automatically went about giving her a routine physical check-up.

"Well before we jump to any conclusions and blame your hormones, let's see if we can isolate any psychological or emotional reasons which may have triggered this. When did you first notice these changes?"

"A couple of weeks ago I suppose."

"Hmmm, was there an event that coincided with these emotional changes, you know, family pressures or something that maybe happened between you and Jack?"

He looked at her oddly, almost as if he knew what was going on. His emphasis on Jack's name sounded too diagnostic and certain. He also knew by her silence that she was reluctant to volunteer the information.

"How is Jack now?" he asked, pushing the right buttons to get a response.

"He cheated on me."

"I thought that might happen," he remarked clinically. "It seems as if everyone goes down that path. I did try and emphasise to him the importance of counselling. He obviously didn't heed my words."

Suzanne was astonished. There was something sinister going on here, which she alone was unaware of.

"No he didn't get counselling," she bluffed, needing to deceive the doctor into betraying his confidentiality of Jack's medical condition.

"Well he should have. How long has it been now, close to twelve months?"

"It's been a while."

"It must have been hard for you Suzanne, with the business to worry about and all. I'd like to have followed through from this end, but you know Jack and how stubborn he can be. He said he'd take care of it in the States. When did he have his operation?"

What was Dr Curlewis talking about? What was so wrong with Jack, that had been going on now for the last twelve months, which required an operation?

"He didn't have an operation."

"Oh, so it was a benign tumour?"

Cancer! Was he talking about cancer? Had Jack hidden a serious illness from both her and Kylie?

"I don't know, he won't talk to me."

"Suzanne ... do you know what's going on here?"

This bloke was an observer. It was part of his job to read facial expressions and body language. Her bluffing was over.

"Doctor Curlewis, I have no idea what's going on."

"Oh dear!"

She watched him take a deep breath and shuffle uncomfortably in his seat as he constructed his thoughts. He scratched his chin, elected to say something, but then decide not to. She waited, feeling those same negative vibrations from the waiting room, drop out of the air conditioning ducts to attach themselves to her body. Doctor Curlewis settled back in his chair and revolved it around to face her front on. His two thumbs touched each other, acting as a pivot point for the tips of his fingers as they rhythmically tapped against their counterparts on the other hand.

"We suspect Jack has testicular cancer."

His candour hit her right between the eyes. She sat wavering and stunned, blank faced, attempting to come to grips with the ramifications of what she had just discovered.

"Suspect ... you don't know?"

"No. Jack was supposed to have it checked out, you know, day surgery for the purpose of a biopsy."

"That lump," she said deep in thought. "I did ask Jack about it a long time ago. He said it was nothing to be concerned about."

"Yes, that lump is the culprit. He assured me he would definitely do something about it when he got back to the States. I did suspect at the time though, that he would enter into a state of denial and wouldn't get around to it, not with the pressures of running your business and all."

"Well, the business has always been Jack's overriding obsession."

"Maybe so, but I did warn him to talk to you, and to seek professional counselling for the psychological symptoms which could likely develop."

"You mean like him cheating on me?"

"Exactly, and I assume by your reaction, and by the fact that I haven't received any treatment details from my counterpart in LA, that he hasn't done anything about it at all, or if he has, then he's suppressed the information from going out. Either way, he's keeping us both in the dark."

"Why would he do that? Why wouldn't he want to find out?"

"I guess it's his male ego. Not unlike how a female would probably feel if informed she needed a mastectomy or a hysterectomy."

"Losing his manhood?"

"Yes, and as a compensation reaction, without counselling, men tend to panic and run off to have one night stands and affairs. The loss of one's libido, the thought of the opposite sex not being attracted to you anymore ... it can be pretty soul destroying.

"But I would have understood, and I would have stood by him."

"Well that would have been the benefit of counselling."

"Now I feel so awful."

"Suzanne, it's not your fault. It may be a problem that you have to come to grips with, but it is not your fault. Any guilt you try to portion onto yourself because of Jack's condition, will only act as a catalyst in predisposing your own body to health problems."

"What's the worst possible scenario?"

"We would have to remove both his testicles."

"And Jack knows that?"

"It was his greatest concern."

She sat silent. The whole conversation had happened too quickly and without any time to digest the information. Logically in hindsight though, all the symptoms of Jack's altered behaviour were now apparent. And thinking about what Doctor Curlewis had said, she remembered a close friend she'd once had in the States who'd had a mastectomy as radical treatment for breast cancer. Even with counselling and with everyone's support, including that of her husband, they'd ended up being divorced. The woman's rejection of her husband, the loss of her self-esteem and the paranoia that everyone was talking about her behind her back, had sent her off the rails and onto a totally different tangent. She also, in her denial stage had had a few flings, and had deliberately let her husband find out about them. She wanted him to feel the pain and despair that she was feeling, and with his consequential anger, she had then felt guilty and conflicted for having betrayed him.

It was all a big circle of tragic events, that now in light of what was happening to Jack, she could see so clearly.

"Where do we go from here?"

"I don't know Suzanne, but now that you know what's going on, I guess it's up to you to made Jack aware of the potential seriousness of his condition."

"Well it may not be that easy. I've left him, and to be quiet honest with you, I don't know if I ever want him back."

"That I cannot help you with, but getting back to the reason why you came here in the first place, I think we've identified your emotional epicentre, and as for the giddy attack, it's more than likely a culmination of jet lag and lack of sleep for the obvious reasons. Your vital signs check out as normal, so I would have to agree with your diagnosis, and prescribe rest and recreation as your treatment. If you suffer anything further, then you had better come back and see me again."

After leaving the surgery, she found her way to the car, to sit quietly and reflect. It was time to work out how she should probably be feeling. The truth of the matter was, she wasn't feeling a hell of a lot at all. She may have felt different if she'd been in the States, in her own home and surrounded by their jointly owned memorabilia. But here, removed from that reality, and in a car park on the other side of the world, it was as if there was no tangible problem, and maybe that's what was bothering her. The fact that after twenty years of marriage, even though there was infidelity involved, she should feel a sense of duty, a sense of guilt, a sense of remorse, or a sense of something, which would necessitate her to want to get onto a plane and go back to make things right. Well, hell no! She didn't feel like that.

Jack had lied to her, deceived her and betrayed her. He had turned his back on the very foundation of their marriage, and now when faced with a potentially serious medical condition, he had turned against the one person who would have supported him to the end. How was she supposed to feel? Logically nothing had changed as far as Jack was concerned. He wanted her to be left in the dark, and realistically, until he sorted himself out, to tell the truth and honestly share his fears with her, then there was nothing that she could be expected to do about it. 

# Chapter 15

It was uncanny, almost as if designed by fate that Jack should be sitting on the front veranda of her mother's house when she drove up ten minutes later. He had said he was coming to see her early this week, but considering the circumstances, she thought he'd ring first from the hotel when he arrived, to arrange a meeting and not simply turn up unannounced on the doorstep. But here he was, just sitting there slumped in a seat, with a steaming cup of tea a wad of papers stacked on the table beside him.

He looked expressionless and ill at ease as she got out of the car and approached. He began to shift uncomfortably in his seat, in an attempt to jar the words loose from his mouth that seemed to be stuck in his throat. His demeanour lacked the confidence of the old Jack she'd lived with for the past twenty years. He was no doubt waiting for her to attack, waiting for her to lunge at his throat and tear at his jugular before offering any whimpering resistance. She didn't give him that satisfaction though. Instead, she stopped briefly at the bottom of the steps, barely three metres away from his position on the high ground. The safety of the 'no man's land' between them provided a protection zone from immediate attack, and allowed enough space for each to take stock of the situation and evaluate tactics, before any real battle began.

It seemed strange that two people who had spent the last twenty years of their life together, could face each other on a neutral battle field and suddenly be lost for words. His whole persona and body language projected guilt, remorse and fear, yet ironically, she now felt no hostility towards him, but her silence, like her stance with her arms folded in front of her, was intimidating in itself. She stared in fascination at his discomfort, as the Adam's apple in his neck nervously moved up and down. He had a frog in his throat, and was swallowing hard and giving assistance to the area, by pulling down on the skin around the larynx and tapping on the cartilage of his wind pipe, but all to no avail.

Suzanne couldn't help herself, a chink appeared in her armour, and although she resisted the temptation to laugh out loud, she couldn't stop the smile from spreading across her face. She loved that analogy of 'a frog in the throat,' and could visualise a green frog's muscular legs gripping to the sides of his throat, with its aerodynamic design and smooth body lines resisting all extracurricular activities to dislodge it. She could almost feel the damn thing clawing and scratching at her own throat.

"Take a drink Jack," she offered with genuine compassion.

He was thankful for her permission to move, and wasted no time to gulp down the hot tea, in an attempt to relax the muscular spasm which was causing the blockage. As he swallowed, she had a visual image of the frog's spread-eagle little body being battered by a torrent of flushed water, to be swirled and churned around as though in a toilet bowl, before giving in to the dynamics of the S bend and being sucked away into a new frontier.

He smiled for the first time, knowing what she was thinking.

"You were thinking about that green frog being flushed down the toilet in our first home, weren't you?"

"Yeah, I was actually."

Somehow a peace had been forged without a bullet being fired, and she crossed over the section of 'no man's land,' to enter the enemy's camp and sit in the chair opposite him.

"Your mother was here when I arrived. She left the house open and said it was okay for me to wait for you. Have you been to see Dr Curlewis?"

"Yes I have."

She looked at him intently. There was a lot on his mind, but it was obviously up to her to coerce it out, and bring the information out in the right order, so that it would all come out.

"He said you may have cancer. Why didn't you tell me Jack?"

His eyes dropped to his lap.

"I didn't want to worry you. We were launching those digital scanners at the time and there was a lot of business pressures to get it right, and on top of that, Kylie was moving out of home and going through drama with her boyfriend. The timing wasn't right for me to get sick, so I let things slide and then they got out of hand, and for that I'm sorry."

"So what are you going to do about it?"

"About the cancer?"

"Yes Jack, about your testicular cancer."

"I don't have cancer Susie. My tests came back all clear. It was a benign tumour."

"When Jack. When did you find all this out?"

"About three weeks ago, I ..."

"Hang on!" she exclaimed cutting him off. "Let me get this right ..."

The truce was broken and the first shot had been fired, and now she felt really annoyed.

"You keep me in the dark for twelve months about your medical condition, you play up on me, and then when you finally get a biopsy done to find out that you don't have cancer, you come and tell me that you're no longer in love with me, but instead, are now in love with my best friend Jenny. Why? Why if you are no longer living with the threat of a possible death sentence, would you then go out of your way to destroy our twenty year marriage?"

"Because living with the reality of that death sentence made me realise how short life is, and it got me to wondering what else I'd also been missing out on."

She sat dumbfounded and speechless. Had Jack had some sort of cosmic revelation? He would have to spell this out for her.

"Don't get me wrong Susie. I love you and I'll always love you, and the last thing I ever wanted to do was to intentionally hurt you. The last twenty years of living with you have been the best years of my life, but now I feel it's time to move on."

He hesitated, waiting for her reaction, but she couldn't comment, she was stunned. This wasn't Jack who was talking. The bricks and mortar man wanted to move on. What did that mean ... that her father had been wrong?

"Come on Susie, you've got to admit that we're stuck in a bit of a rut. In the past couple of years we've drifted apart. We've lost the intimacy and the spark in our relationship. It's only the business and Kylie that's kept us together."

She knew what Jack was saying was true, but she just couldn't believe that he was admitting it.

"Kylie has now left home for good, and all that you and I have left in common, is the business. A business that you keep reminding me is worth a small fortune, to both of us."

He looked at her for confirmation that she was following where this was heading.

"Go on," she said clear eyed and intrigued.

"My suggestion is that we continue to operate the business jointly, until such time as we can dispose of it, either by selling it as a complete package, or by dissecting it up into proportionate pieces. Let's just do whichever works best financially to our advantage."

"And then?"

"Then we split the proceeds and we come to some amicable arrangement about the family home and the investment properties. We cash-in the shares, have a fire sale for the vehicles, and after setting Kylie up, we split all the money down the middle. Then we go our separate ways. What do you think?"

"I think I'm not talking to the Jack I married twenty years ago. I'm wondering if this isn't just a stall tactic of yours, to get me on side again so that you can continue to weave your web of deceit."

"No honestly Susie, you put a time frame on the whole thing, and you handle the wind-up procedures. After all you are the financial controller, and besides that, I trust your call."

"Why Jack, why the sudden change of heart? I've been at you for years to get rid of the business. Why now?"

"Perhaps the final moment of awakening came with the comment you made to me, as you left in the taxi to go to the airport a few days ago."

"And what was that?"

"It wasn't so much what you said, as it was what you implied about seeing someone who was an old friend. It dawned upon me that you were talking about Troy, and a flood of memories came rushing back. You were so suited to the guy and I stole you away from him. I guess I realised I'd deceived you then, and that I'm still deceiving you now. You're a very spiritual person Susie and I robbed you of that quality. I side-tracked you with my own agenda from being the person you really are, and now I'm going to give you back your life so you can rediscover yourself again before it's too late. Well at the very least you can leave with a few million dollars to comfort yourself, and with my blessing and best wishes."

"You're really serious, aren't you?"

"I am. I want to put things right for both of us. Any argument?"

"Jack, I truly don't know what to say. I certainly don't like what you did to me and the family unit, but I don't hate you either."

"Oh please, let's not go down the path of bitterness, it would be too destructive. Can you get beyond what I have put you through?"

She reached out with her hand, to touch his on the table and look him squarely in the eyes.

"Are you sure you're okay with all this Jack?"

"Yes, it's for the better. It gives us both a clean start."

"Do you want to camp here for the night?"

"No, but thanks for the offer, I've got to get going. I just needed to face you and set things right so that we can both move on."

"Where will you be staying?"

"In my usual hotel. I'll be around for a day or two, then we'll be flying back. I'll leave these papers here with you. They need your attention, so take a good look at them and let's get this thing wrapped up."

Jack was back to his usual self again, in control and tossing around orders.

"You said, 'we'll be flying back'. Did you come with someone?"

"Sorry. Yes I did come with someone."

He didn't have a problem of looking her in the eye now, nor did he attempt to suppress his supercilious grin.

"You came with Jenny didn't you?"

"I did actually."

She started to laugh. It was all too ludicrous.

"You know Jack, just for a minute, I was actually feeling sorry for you. I was actually thinking that you were making a personal sacrifice and that you were all on your own. But I should have known better."

"Don't hate me Susie."

"Jack, I no longer hate you. Go out and grab life by the throat, like you always have."

"Couldn't give me a ride to the station could you?" he chuckled.

It was a ridiculous request, considering he'd normally take a taxi or hire car everywhere, but she accommodated it anyhow, even though it was only a five hundred metre walk to the station. It was Jack's way of leaving a lasting impression, and there couldn't have been a better way for him to do that than to finally yield to her mode of transportation. It had been his bugbear with her for as long as she could remember, and she wanted to burn this memorable moment of his departure into her brain forever.

She hugged him on the station and thanked him for flying half way around the world to tell her the truth about how he was feeling, and as she stood on the platform watching the departing train, she took stock of how she was actually feeling. There was no anger, nor was there any feelings of jealousy about him going back to spend the night with Jenny, and ironically, for the first time in a very long time, she actually admired him for being so openly courageous and honest. She would no doubt miss him terribly, that she did know.

# Chapter 16

It was a strange move on her part, to take out the three business cards from her wallet and lay them out on the table in front of her, the very moment she walked through the front door from seeing Jack off at the station. They were three impressive cards of good quality, with superb graphics and rich vivid colours. Each displayed a solidarity of strength, each demanded respect, and each portrayed a professionalism unrivalled in their respective professions. Exactly what it was that she was looking for, she didn't know, but laid out before her in print and summed up with a few words and a dab of colour, were the three men who were currently shaping her life.

She pushed Jack's to one side, but not totally out of view, as he would always be a yardstick for comparison. And then there were two, the restaurateur, and the horticulturist. When it boiled down to the bold print, Troy's card simply said, _Priscilla's vegetarian restaurant, Troy Collins - Proprietor_. Justin's said, _Consultant Horticulturist, Justin Jackson - Director_. Both men's attention to detail, their style and professionalism were reflected in the fine print, but the living person was not. This was ridiculous, it was not a true comparison, she knew a hell of a lot more about Troy than what she did about Justin. What was she looking for anyhow? She glanced at her watch. It was only 1.00pm and still a glorious day outside. She had to get out of the house and into the sunshine to enjoy the magic of spring and everything it had to offer. She had to keep busy and distracted and not allow Jack to crawl under her skin.

It was no doubt a subliminal action, which would see her automatically pick up Justin's business card and dial his mobile number without any hesitation. He answered on the third ring and she kept it short and to the point.

"Hi Justin, its Suzanne ... You wouldn't happen to be in the area would you? ... Oh that's great. How about swinging by and picking me up, and I'll be your lackey for the rest of the day ... Wonderful, see you in thirty minutes."

Job was done and now she felt exhilarated. A personal tour guide into Justin's little world, and a chance to make amends for yesterday. Now there was no time for a cuppa and no time to waste. She raced into the bedroom, to rattle through her wardrobe for something appropriate to wear, for something that would say, "Hey, I don't mind getting my hands dirty!" Yeah right, her manicured and painted fingernails would conflict badly with that statement.

What sort of manual labour would they be doing anyhow? It wasn't as if he would be laying bricks or mixing cement, so she wouldn't be damaging her hands or breaking fingernails. He wouldn't be out to punisher or embarrass her in any way. He wasn't that type. No, he would respect her as a female and only give her the lighter duties to do. She stripped down to her white underwear and slipped into a pair of blue faded denim stretch jeans. These would be perfect. They hugged her thighs and wrapped around her legs like a second skin, and there stretchy nature wouldn't impede her movements, so that was practical in itself. Boots, well they just didn't exist. She wasn't a bush walker or a construction worker, so the choice of footwear was easy. It came down to the joggers she wore yesterday to the zoo, or to a plain white pair which were last season's vintage. Yep, last seasons would do the job, they were already scuffed and she could chuck them into the garbage bin after today if they got too filthy or damaged.

Opening the closet, she then dragged out an array of tops and tossed them onto the bed, and deciding to keep it simple, settled on a white T-shirt of a similar cut and design as the one she'd worn to the zoo yesterday. It would complement the plane white joggers, and as it was manufactured from a far heavier grade material than yesterday's T-shirt, it and would also hide any embarrassing signs of arousal, in the unlikely event of those circumstances happening again. With that decision made, she ferreted through the draws looking for a pair of socks and scrunchie to add a splash of 'head to toe' colour to her outfit. Blue ... no, too much harmony. Green ... no, blue and green should never be seen. Red ... too loud, and could end up matching the scratches on her arms by the end of the day. Yellow ... bingo, the colour of the sun.

God her heart was pumping. She was probably only going to be pulling out weeds for the rest of the afternoon, but she was bouncing out of her skin with the anticipation of seeing him again. Pulling on the thick woollen socks, she slipped into her joggers and was tying their laces when she heard his vehicle turn up. He was five minutes early. Bugger the guy, and there was still no time for a cuppa. Racing to the front door, she signalled to his broad grin that she'd be with him in five minutes, and then dashed to the bathroom to use the loo, run a brush through her hair and clean her teeth. It was too late to freshen her make up, but a dab of perfume wouldn't go astray.

A couple of minutes later, with sunnies hooked in the neckline of her T-shirt and baseball cap tucked into her rear pocket, she slammed the front door behind herself and bounced down the steps like a schoolgirl racing to catch the bus. She flipped her jumper over her shoulder as she walked, to free both hands so she could pull her shining hair into a ponytail and twirl the bright yellow scrunchie into position. There was no doubt in her mind that she had forgotten something, a bottle of water for one thing, but Justin's enthusiasm at seeing her so soon after yesterday's humiliation, would compensate for whatever it was she had missed.

Good lord, his grin was from ear to ear, and his mannerisms reminded her of an enthusiastic puppy with its tail wagging and body shaking with the excitement of being picked up and cuddled. She could see that pup in her mind's eye now, struggling to climb higher, with its head and neck reaching up and tongue flapping all over the place in the attempt to lick the face and mouth of its owner. Yuck! She subconsciously wiped her mouth with the thought association, as she hopped into his work vehicle and closed the door.

"Thanks for picking me up."

"My pleasure. It was a really nice surprise for me when you rang."

"I thought I'd come out and visit your world. I hope you don't mind."

"No. It'll be great to spend a little more time with you," he said, roaring his V8 engine to life.

"This is the closest I've got to work gear, but I insist on giving you a hand, no matter how dirty I get. Besides, I need to do some physical labour."

He started to laugh with a deep mischievous pumping chuckle that somehow blended nicely with the purring sound of his motor and the note of its exhaust.

"What's that delightful chuckle all about?"

"If all women went to a work site looking like you, then I can assure you there wouldn't be too much work being done by the fellows."

His flattering words excited her.

"So what exactly will we be doing?"

"It'll be an easy afternoon, just a couple of hours to plant twenty or so shrubs and clean up the site before we leave. I was just taking a break when you rang, so we'll go back and finish it off."

Wow, he was so happy that she wanted to spend a couple of hours with him. His eyes smiled at her from under that broadbrim dorky hat, with a cheekiness that made her body hypersensitive to all the vibrations within the vehicle.

His work vehicle was an early model Holden one tonner with drop down sides. It was probably twenty or so years old, and so unlike his recreational Jeep with all the modern cons which she'd travelled in yesterday. She knew absolutely nothing about cars, and wasn't going to ask him either, but he'd obviously owned it since new and had kept it maintained it in good order and condition. The vehicle somehow suited his personality and his life style, more so than the Jeep, and she could feel the purr of its motor through the bench seat. Its torquey sensation played havoc with her sexual centre, as its vibrations increased in pitch and tempo with Justin working the motor to its revolution sweet spot, before changing gears to do it all again.

She sat on her hands, digging her fingers into her legs underneath, but it did no good. The vehicle was a sexual dynamo of charged electricity, and while it was moving she would just have to ride it out.

"Much further?" she asked.

"Five minutes," he responded, slotting the stick into third gear, to accelerate around a learner driver botching an attempt at parallel parking.

She gritted her teeth and waited for the sensation to pass.

"You look a bit tense. Is the way I'm driving stressing you?"

"No, but your vehicle has a powerful vibration that's sending mixed messages to my brain."

"Yeah, good isn't it ..."

He chuckled out loud again, squirting the accelerator and moving back through the gears to allow the gearbox to slow the vehicle down as he approached a set of red traffic lights.

"It's as though this machine talks to me through its vibrations and sounds. You can't buy them like this anymore. These days they're all computerised, have shells of plastic and are super quiet, but they have no character, no personality and no soul. This vehicle however ..."

She listened to the excitement in his voice as he explained to her the reasons why he'd kept his old one tonner as a workhorse and had not upgraded it. He was definitely in-tune with his vehicle and shared that with her, by making her aware through demonstrations as he drove along and shifted gears, the unique sounds and vibrations which came from the gearbox, diff, muffler and the motor, and how these differed from the road noise or the squeaks and rattles of the suspension.

It was an interesting insight, and until the vehicle stopped, it was also a wonderful diversion which helped to take her mind off the immediate preoccupation she had with the vehicles vibrations. The moment they reached their destination though, she immediately unbuckled her seat belt and stepped out of the car. If Justin hadn't had sex for two years, then maybe this vehicle which he drove every day explained a lot, but she'd personally found the experience a real tease. However, perhaps some physical exercise would take that edge off.

"Now what do we do?" she asked.

He slipped around to her side of the vehicle, and with the gesture of his hand to show the way, guided her towards the back of the house.

"Are you sure that you want to get your hands dirty?"

"I want to experience what it is you do, when you go to work."

"Ok, now keep in mind, I'm a consultant horticulturist. I advise clients, like your mother and the owner of this place, on the best way to utilise their available space, using garden design and the sensible use of plants, shrubs and trees. I used to do all the landscaping and gardening myself, but now I have selected tradespeople who do that for me, and most of my work is created from doing routine seasonal inspections of all the clients I have accumulated over the years. It's the public relations aspect I really enjoy. You know, sitting down with the likes of your mother, to socialise and chat about what needs to be done in the garden and all that sort of stuff. But occasionally when the urge hits, like in spring right now, I like to do a little of the physical work myself. I would normally have one of my landscapers doing what we're doing here today."

"So you're a lazy bugger, and I'm going to be doing all the work today, is that it?"

He laughed with that delightful deep throaty sound which reminder her so much of his one tonner.

"No, don't get me wrong. I love the practical aspects of my job. I would surely die if I couldn't be out in the open, with the sun on my body and my hands in the soil."

Justin then explained why he'd chosen the shrubs they were planting, and how he'd prepared and designed the site to suit the aspects of light, drainage and position of all the plants in the garden to achieve a harmonious balance. He then showed her with a demonstration of how he wanted the shrubs planted, before picking up a shovel to work ahead of her to contour the soil and dig the holes. She followed him up with a soil conditioning mix in a wheelbarrow, and after removing the shrubs from the plastic pots, she transplant them to his specifications. He had offered her the use of a spare pair of gloves which he carried around in his one tonner, to stop dirt getting up under her fingernail and damaging her cuticles, but she had declined. The memories of playing in the dirt as a child came flooding back to override the temptation to accept them. It just felt so wonderful being on her knees in the fresh earth and to be able to feel its texture in her bare hands, and it seemed as if with every shrub she transplanted, that she was breathing life into its little woody soul, and with it, a little life into her own.

Somehow the time had passed so quickly, and here she was an hour later transplanting the last shrub. She had no sooner back filled the hole with the conditioning mix and was firming it up, when Justin dropping down on his knees right beside her. She looked up at him, brushing the fringe out of her eyes with the back of her wrist.

"I'm having a really enjoyable time. Thanks so much for letting me tag along."

He leant over to straighten and fidget with the shrub she had just planted, to give it his seal of approval, before drawing back to turn his head and face her barely centimetres away.

"Believe me," he said softly looking into her eyes. "The pleasure is all mine."

In that moment he leaned slowly forward towards her, twisting his head and dropping his eyes onto her lips, to hesitate for a second or two with barely a breath of distance between them. He was waiting for her approval, waiting for a sign from her to advance or to back away. Lost in the moment, she caught her breath, and tenderly his lips found hers, to suction ever so lightly, to linger momentarily, and to pull away so hesitantly. Her eyes fluttered open, with her body tingling and the taste of his breath still on her lips. The big guy may have been be out of practice, but he certainly hadn't lost his touch, that was for sure.

"Come on," he said, dancing to his feet and throwing out his hand to assist her to rise. "Let's get washed up and have a cuppa."

How could he do that? As tender and romantic as the moment had been, he should have followed through with prolonged eye contact, or a soft romantic phrase, or with a gentle touch of his hand, or something. It was best not to overanalyse the situation though, she'd been complicit in what had happened, by simply consenting to, or not resisting the kiss in the first place.

"Oh yeah, I'd kill for a cuppa," she said, climbing up his arm and wavering in the attempt to find her land legs. "If only I can find my balance for long enough."

The big fella steadied her by supporting his arm around her body. It was a situation too convenient to not take advantage of. She twirled around to step right into his space, to throw her arms around his waist and lock her fingers behind his back. And there they stood, with her having taken the initiative, facing each other with no avenue for escape and no one around to save him. She was in control and he looked decisively uncomfortable with that, so much so that she could feel his body nervously trembling.

"Do I scare you Justin?"

"A little ... more than a little actually," he responded, grinning at his own foolishness.

"Why? Are you afraid I'll hurt you?"

"Yeah, I guess so."

He didn't like these confrontations of feelings. His eyes flickered away from hers as he fought the urge to escape, but his body held its ground.

"How is it that a big fella like you could be afraid of me? How could I possibly hurt you?"

"Maybe because you'll soon be going back to the States, and I'll be the one left behind to pick up the pieces."

"You feel that connected to me already?"

"Yes, I told you, I felt that connection the very first moment I held you in my arms on the station platform after saving your life."

"You're afraid of feeling abandoned again, by me going away, is that it?"

"Abandoned ... deserted ... betrayed. Silly, but true."

"Surely you've got to move on? You can't let your ex-wife's actions control what you do or how you feel, or what risks you take for the rest of your life."

"I know that Suzanne, and I don't need a counsellor."

"Sorry."

"It's not your fault, I was doing fine. I just didn't expect ever to feel like this again."

"Like what?"

"Like a star struck teenager in love."

"You're doing fine," she said giving him a hug. "Now I know why everyone refers to you as the gentle giant."

She swung her arms up around his neck and pulled his lips down on hers. She pecked him once, then twice, then kissed him with a soulful passion of understanding and tenderness, that even left her own head reeling from its true origin. Something stirred from within her psyche with that kiss. Something other than the sexual entity had woken from its long hibernation, and it was now roaming free and searching for sustenance to sustain its life. She pulled back from him almost too hastily, to hear herself say, "Come on then, let's get that cuppa."

He looked startled, but freely broke contact to lead the way to the wash up facilities, a cake of soap, a towel and the backyard tap. He was the gentleman who insisted that she wash up first, and was quite content to sit on his haunches a couple of metres away and observe her personal hygiene techniques. When she was finished, he passed her the towel and shuffled in for his turn. He was done in no time flat, and was wiping his hands on his jeans and on the move before she'd even finished with the towel.

"I'll be back in a flash. Grab yourself a spot on one of those bales of hay, while I go and fetch our smoko from the one tonner."

She dragged the two bales of lucerne hay into a nice sunny and well protected position, then sat down on one, to reflect on what was troubling her while she waited for Justin to return with the goodies.

She had been driven to come to Australia in the first place, not only to distance herself from the Jack drama which was unfolding at the time, but also to pursue the fantasy of a lost love which had been re-ignited by the retrieval of Troy's hidden letter. Undoubtedly, deep down in her subconscious, she was also pursuing something that had been lost or suppressed within herself for so long. That something, that awareness, that restlessness within her which she'd experienced a few minutes ago while kissing Justin, was now awake from its hibernation and apparent. It left her with the concern that maybe Justin was the one, the only person who could feed that entity of emptiness. If she damaged their budding relationship, he would disappear, and maybe that emptiness would aimlessly roam her body, mind, heart and soul, looking for a feed for the rest of her life, and that was a torment she could well do without. Perhaps she'd misinterpreted the signs in the first place. Perhaps through the intervention of fate, her heart and soul had been guided to Justin, and not to Troy. After all, it wasn't a coincidental meeting with Troy, she had consciously orchestrated those events.

"Here you go."

She jumped at the sound of his voice. She didn't hear him approaching, but there he was, magically sitting down on the bale of hay beside her and placing an esky down on the ground between them. With a fluidity of movement, he reached into the esky to extract two enamel mugs, a thermos, a small container of milk and a container of sweet cream biscuits, before screwing the lid off the thermos to begin pouring.

"Did I startle you?" he asked.

"I was in another world."

He handed her one of the mugs, gesturing for her to help herself to the milk and biscuits, as he settled back with an assorted cream in one hand and the cuppa in the other.

"Penny for your thoughts?"

He'd been honest with her earlier on, and it only seemed fitting to give a little of herself in return.

"Do you ever feel a restlessness within yourself, like a roaming entity that's constantly hunting for prey, but that never gets to satisfy the kill?" she asked.

He looked at her strangely, almost as if he was amazed somebody else had discovered what he already knew, or thought only belonged to him.

"Yeah! Like a hunger, an emptiness that can't be satisfied by eating or working or sleeping. I know exactly what you mean. It's horrible."

"Let's say for argument sake, that hunger represents the restlessness within yourself to find your soul mate. And let's assume that somehow you recognise and find that soul mate. What would you sacrifice to secure that individual, to ensure that the hunger is satisfied, and the torment of that restlessness goes away for ever?"

"To make that emptiness go away," he said in deep thought. "I would sacrifice everything."

"What about if you had a crystal ball, and could see into the future and knew your partner was going to die and you only had a few years with them. Would you still sacrifice everything?"

"Yeah, I reckon I would. The grass isn't always greener on the other side of the fence, and life isn't always as rosy as some people make it out to be. I don't want to get to the end of my life and look back with regret. All the assets and money in the world are meaningless if you haven't experienced that deep connection you're talking about."

She smiled, her question had ignited a philosophical spark within him on the meaning of life, and now he was on his soap box.

"Anyhow you should be asking that question to your friend Troy. I know you've never been to his restaurant, but when you do and see that portrait, you will understand the connection of deep love and respect which he obviously had for his late wife Priscilla. Everyone who goes in there is touched and somewhat envious of what they shared together. And I'm sure that if Troy were flat stone motherless broke right now, he would still be a far richer man for having sacrificed what he had to, for the privilege of sharing his life with her."

"Oh Justin, that's so beautiful," she said touching his hand to emphasise her sentiment. "So money's not an issue?"

"Of course money's important, you've still got to live. But in the big scheme of things, you come into this world with nothing and you leave this world with nothing. All that really matters is what happens in between. Like these couple of hours today with you, and like the time we spent together yesterday at the zoo. That's mindfulness, that's living in the moment. Why shouldn't every day be like that?"

Suzanne began to chuckle.

"I never realised you were such a deep person."

"I have my moments. By the way, are you and your mother going to Troy's party?"

"What party!?"

"Sorry, I thought you knew. I assumed Troy had already rung. He said both of you had been invited."

She must have looked stunned. She was stunned. He quickly continued with his explanation.

"Troy rang me this morning. He's having a second anniversary party at his restaurant on Wednesday night for friends and associates and said he'd love for both of us to come along. I guess he asked me because I was a friend of yours, and as I exchanged business cards with him yesterday, he already had my number. He said I could invite my daughter along as well, to keep me company, just in case you wanted to arrive and depart with your mother. Actually he was really keen to catch up with your mother, and he reckoned we'd all complement each another on the same table."

She was silent, wondering what the hell was going on inside Troy's head?

"Suzanne, did I say something wrong?"

"No! Oh I'm sorry Justin, I haven't seen Troy for twenty years and was just trying to work him out."

"Well don't be too quick to condemn him. I won't go if you don't want me to, and I wouldn't have gone anyhow without having cleared it with you in the first place. He's a really nice guy, but I'm sure I don't have to tell you that."

"Then you understand?"

"I saw the attraction before you even opened your mouth. I felt it while you watched his presentation, although I didn't know what was going on at the time. You've got some unresolved issues to confront, and of that, I am painfully aware."

"I'm so sorry."

"You have nothing to be sorry about. I'm just so happy you've recognised that roaming emptiness within yourself, and you're doing something about it."

In that instant she could see why Troy had invited him. They were both of the same soul family, and it was important to Troy with his spiritual philosophy, that he welcomed and supported family members.

"Then we'll all go. I'll take mum, and you bring along your daughter, I'd like to meet her anyhow."

With that being settled, the rest of the afternoon flowed easily. Justin hooked up the subsurface drip irrigation system, and then with her assistance, they tore apart the lucerne hay bales and spread it around as a topping mulch to complete the work. It was a simple case then of tidying up the area, picking up the tools of trade and dumping them in the back of the one tonner.

~ ~ ~

The drive back to her mother's place was somewhat more soothing than the previous journey. The vibrations within the car had somehow seemed to have changed their pitch. It was more than likely though that her body chemistry had fluctuated, and her system was now interpreting those vibrations as massage therapy.

"By the way," she asked along the journey. "Where were the occupants of the house today while we were running amuck in their backyard?"

He looked strangely at her, as if she already knew the answer.

"You honestly don't know?"

"Justin, how would I know, they're your clients?"

"Well that makes me wrong on two counts."

"What do you mean?"

"Well when you rang me earlier to ask if I was in the area, I assumed you were prompted by one of two associated reasons."

She looked at him blankly, her head screaming ... 'well get on with it.'

"Firstly, I thought that Troy had already spoken to you, and had mentioned something about us going to his party, which he hadn't."

"Well he may have spoken to mum, but I was out this morning. And the second reason?"

"The second reason was that Mrs Stevens was picking up your mother to go to bowls this morning."

"How could you possibly know that?" she asked, her eyes bulging wide.

"Because getting back to your original question, we have just left Mrs Steven's property."

"Oh come on! That's too bizarre and coincidental to be true."

"Gods honest truth," he laughed. "I thought you knew. I assumed your mother would have mentioned it to you."

"And why would you assume that?"

"Well I'll put it to you this way. Mrs Stevens knew that you and I went on a date to the zoo yesterday."

"I don't believe this. Who else would know?"

"I'd assume all my clients at your mother's bowling club, and everyone at the hairdressing salon."

Suzanne smiled with the embarrassment of not getting beyond first base.

"You know they're running 'a book' on you down at that place?"

"Yeah I know. What's the kitty up to now?"

"Five hundred dollars and climbing."

"It's for a good cause," he chuckled.

"How did you know I got my hair done there?"

"Earlier on you called me the gentle giant. Clara and I go way back, that's her nickname for me."

"Now I feel awful, you must think that I'm part of a conspiracy or something?"

"Well the thought did cross my mind, but no, you're an outsider and someone I genuinely met without anyone's interference. The fact that you're Mary's daughter is irrelevant, and don't get me wrong, I like your mother, she's a beautiful lady, but she's been trying to fix me up with dates ever since my wife abandoned me."

"You don't mind, all this going on behind your back?"

"Hell no, it's good fun and nobody gets hurt. Besides, it's good for my ego and I get to meet a diverse group of interesting females."

"You amaze me."

"Why, because I play this little game?"

"Yes, and because the gossiping doesn't offend you."

"Well, not yet anyhow. Everyone knows I'm looking for a genuine relationship. I'm not out to play games with people's emotions, or to take advantage of anyone, or to have one night stands either."

"Well that's a quality money can't buy. Principles and morals mean that much to you?"

"Yes they do, and I'll tell you something else for nothing, not that you don't already know it, but you are exactly like that yourself, and so is Troy. You are very lucky to have him in your life."

"So where does that leave us?"

She had to check herself, her choice of words left a lot to be desired. 'Where does that leave us?' Why should those words fall out of her mouth, and what sort of a question was it anyhow? There was no 'us.' A sexual fantasy, and a real nice bloke was all he was at the moment, so why should she feel panicky all of a sudden? Did this all come back to the restlessness she was feeling inside her which they'd talked about a few minutes ago? Was she afraid that by leaving the country, without making some sort of a commitment to him, that he would continue his search to find someone else?

"Us!" he said, surprised to hear the word drop out of her mouth. "Are you admitting that you feel somehow connected to me Suzanne?"

Well she deserved that. Her question was sort of a 'come on in sucker' statement and his victory grin was deserved.

"Now don't get the wrong idea, I'm just trying to sort things out in my head. Haven't you been suggesting all along that you're afraid to expose your soft underbelly for fear of getting hurt again? I am attracted to you, I'll admit that, but I don't want to be the one who hurts you either. I'm only just coming out of a relationship, and I'm not ready to give any sort of commitment to go back into another one, with anyone."

"I understand, and I'm not asking for a firm commitment."

"But you do want some sort of a connection?"

"Yes."

"Would you sleep with me, Justin?"

"Is that a proposition?"

"It's a question."

"Yeah, cause I'd sleep with you."

"Even though I'm going back to the States to live?"

"Yes."

He may not have had a commitment from her, but she'd let it be known the idea of sleeping with him was on her mind, and that in itself was a clear signal of her intention to move to another level of emotional intimacy with him. He seemed to be happy with that, and for the remainder of the journey home they engaged in small talk, with him asking questions about where she lived in the States, what her neighbourhood was like and what she did with herself with her spare time, etc. It was a wonderful feeling having someone showing interest in who she was and how she filled her days, and it capped off what had been such an enjoyable afternoon, and one which she'd been truly sorry to see come to an end.

Upon dropping her off, he'd asked if she would like to join him for dinner later on in the evening. She had declined the offer with the excuse of having an early night, but it came with her assurance she'd catch up with him at Troy's restaurant on Wednesday evening. That assurance seemed to have satisfied him, and he'd driven away as happy as he'd arrived.

# Chapter 17

First thing was first, and now that Justin was gone she would make herself a decent cup of tea, one that wasn't half cold and hadn't been brewing in a thermos for most of the day. It was then as she was filling the jug, that she found her mother's note on the bench.

_Darling ... Troy rang, to invite both of us to a party at his restaurant on Wednesday night. Of course I accepted for both of us. He didn't have your mobile number, give him a ring, he would love to hear a confirmation from you ... Mum xx._

A warm fuzzy feeling flushed over her body. So he had rang while she was at the doctors. If Jack hadn't have been at the house when she arrived back, then she would have found the note and returned his phone call. Had Jack seen the note? It would have been impossible for him to have missed it. He did have a steaming cuppa sitting in front of him on the veranda table when she first turned up. Perhaps her mother had made it for him before she left, but the house was open at the time, so Jack had a free reign to make himself a dozen cuppas if he wanted to. So what if he had read it anyhow? He had his own agenda. But he had mentioned Troy's name, and perhaps in reading the note, it had given him the courage he needed to finalise things between themselves. Anyhow it didn't matter. What was done, was done.

It just seemed so weird now in hindsight, that after walking in the door from dropping Jack off at the station, she'd pulled the business cards out of her wallet, to scrutinise their contents looking for some sort of guidance. It had only been by impulse that she'd picked up Justin's card and rung him without a second thought. If she had cooled her heals by taking the time to have a cuppa, she would have found this note, and would have rung Troy to arrange to do something with him for the day instead of Justin. But in the big scheme of things, it didn't matter. She'd had a marvellous day with Justin and had put things right from yesterday, and she could do the same with Troy.

Having made the cup of tea, she walked outside to squat against the western wall so she could capture the remaining sunlight of the day. Spring was truly a magic season of the year, and her little foray into Justin's world had made her aware of the significants of plants and how they influence everything in nature. It was a time of rising sap, of sending out new shoots and roots, a time of vitality and growth to fortify against the harsher seasons that were to come. And right now, with his horticultural wisdom ringing in her ears, and as she observed nature's interaction of the birds and insects in her mother's backyard, she could feel that positive energy flowing through her too. It was time to capitalise on the rising sap and square away thing in her life. She now had the strength to do it. Jack had freed her. Troy would always be there for her, and Justin, well, he was the one currently making her sap rise.

Without hesitation, she slipped back inside, picked up the phone and rang airline reservations. It was good news, she could return to LA on Thursday afternoon's flight out of Sydney and upgrade her economy ticket to first class. The seating arrangements in itself made the trip worth looking forward to, and she now had two days up her sleeve, and one interesting night at Troy's restaurant to get through before returning to the States to begin winding up the corporation. She would ring Jack right now, to notify him of her intentions. Using her mother's landline phone again, she rang his mobile.

"Hello, Jack's phone." said a female voice.

Bloody hell, it was Jenny. Her pulse surged. She should have rang from her mobile, that way Jack's caller ID would have displayed her name and the bitch wouldn't have answered.

"Is my husband there ... Jenny?"

Her tone was polite, but her words stung of the betrayal and she could sense Jenny's shock.

"Su ... Suzanne!"

"No need to act so surprised, I didn't ring to talk to you."

"Jack's in the shower. We were about to go out."

"That must be so nice for you. Ask him to ring me back."

"Suzanne, I'm sorry," she hastily added.

"Jenny, I no longer care, and I really don't want to talk to you, ever again."

"Can we at least have this one last conversation? Please. There's nobody around."

"What do you want from me ... absolution?"

"I just want you to understand that I never intended for this to happen. I feel a whole lot worse about this then you do."

"Yeah ... right."

"You were my best friend. We know more about each other, than Jack or anyone else could ever know. Do you honestly think I deliberately went out of my way to jeopardise what we had? I'm really sorry for having broken up a twenty year marriage, but I feel much worse for having sacrificed your friendship in the bargain."

"Well, you've had plenty of practice with married men haven't you?"

"I deserve that comment."

"And what about poor John?"

"What about poor John!? He was the reason why I was off the rails and having affairs in the first place. If it wasn't for your friendship, I would have left him a long time ago."

"Oh, so it's all my fault?"

"Look, I realise you and I can never be friends again, but I just hope that you chase your dreams. Jack saw the note at your mother's place, the invitation to Troy's party, so I know at least that you're out there taking chances, and I'm happy for you."

"Jack saw the note."

"Yeah. He knows you've always carried a flame for the guy."

"Jack said that?"

"He knows you've been the dutiful and faithful wife all these years, but he also knows you've been searching and yearning for that spiritual connection which eludes you."

Suzanne was astonished. Astonished that she was actually talking to Jenny in the first place, and astonished at Jenny's perceptiveness and concern for her wellbeing.

"So you two have done me a huge favour, is that what you're saying?"

She could hear the smile in Jenny's voice.

"Susie, find that pocket of happiness whatever the cost. Seek Troy out and I hope he's everything you remember him to be."

And that was that, conversation over, but why did she suddenly feel like, 'poor Suzanne, let's do what we can do to help her.' It didn't matter. It was all to her advantage anyhow. She could ride on the back of empathy and make hay while the sun was shining, and judging by Jenny's remarks, she was encouraging Jack to harmonise with her in winding up the corporation, and that in itself was great news. Ten minutes later Jack rang back.

"Hi Susie, Jenny said you rang."

"How was your train trip?"

She didn't have to ask, but for some strange reason, she felt the need to be civil.

"You may have something there. It was quiet relaxing."

"I just thought I'd let you know that I'm flying out on Thursday, so we can get together as soon as I get back and work on winding everything down."

"Oh that's great news."

"I was also thinking about us approaching our main competitor, and as you know its managing director, Phil what's-his-name really well, it would be worth your while giving him a call. They have often hinted at amalgamating with us, perhaps they'd also entertain the idea of buying us out."

"You haven't read those papers I left there for you, have you?"

"Not yet."

"Then I suggest you do. I've already talked to Phil Jenkins and he's agreed in principal to buy us out. Everything is up for grabs, he knows that, and he wants first slice of the cake and also first right of refusal. He will of course have a set of conditions, and will need to see financial reports, do audits and all those other checks and balances, that you as the financial controller are aware of. Those papers that I left for you, are his proposal. His team put them together within a few days, so they're deadly serious, and if you're going to be back in the States by Friday, then I'll organise a meeting for late in the afternoon. In the meantime, collect up everything you need and please have a good read of their proposal. Then you and I will get together Friday morning, to bandy about what conditions we are willing to accept, and work out a non-negotiable dollar value for the sale."

A couple of minutes later she hung up the phone, totally overwhelmed by the events which were happening so fast around her. It was possible by Friday afternoon, in principle at least, and subject of course to certain terms and conditions, to agree to the sale of their corporation. Part of those conditions would no doubt include Jack staying on as managing director for a period of time, or having access to him on a consultancy basis to facilitate the ease of transition from one business to another. She was merely the accountant and financial controller, so her role as a number cruncher could easily be replaced, and it was conceivable that by the end of the week, or very soon after, that she may not have a job at all. The thought of waking up and not having an empire to run was hard to imagine, but she would deal with those emotional and psychological issues when that time came.

In the meantime, she would make sure she had the financial reports from Julia in her hands by tomorrow. Then there was nothing that could be done until she walked into the LA head office on Friday morning, and even then, it was only a thirty minute procedure on the computer program to acquire the updated information she needed for the meeting. Right now though, she had unfinished personal business to attend to. She had no intention of going back to the States with the same fantasy she'd left with. Jack knew she was seeing Troy, and so did Jenny, but it was strange that even Justin seemed to be pushing her in his direction. She would make everyone happy, but first she would shower and freshen up, to get her head together before ringing Troy at the restaurant.

"Oh hi!" said the bubbly voice. "Dad said that you would probably ring. Are you and Mary coming on Wednesday night?"

"Yes we'd love to. I hope our acceptance isn't too late?"

"No that's fine. A couple of dad's stuffy acquaintances dropped out last week, had to go overseas or something, so that freed up a table. Not that we wouldn't have made room for you anyhow. Dad is so excited about you and your mother coming."

"Really, what did he say?"

"Said the two of you were sweethearts long before my mother came along, and up until yesterday he hadn't seen you for twenty years."

Suzanne grimaced. How would she get around meeting Sandy again?

"Talking about your father, is he there?"

"No, he left not long ago, to go to a conference up the coast somewhere."

"Oh! Do you know what time he'll be back?"

"Well not tonight. He's spending the night up there and going straight to the zoo tomorrow for a midmorning meeting or something. But he did say he'd be back in time to help out at the restaurant tomorrow night, so I guess that means mid-afternoon."

"So he'll be tied up practically all day tomorrow as well?"

"You could try contacting him at the zoo in the morning. Do you have dad's mobile number?"

She didn't. She only had his business card with the restaurant's landline number on it, the same number she'd just rung. Sandy was more than eager to give out her father's contact details and as she recited the number, Suzanne jotted it down on the back of the card.

"Thanks Sandy, and if you hear from him could you just let him know that I rang, and that I may try and catch up with him some time tomorrow."

"Okie dokie. I look forward to meeting you Suzanne. Bye."

Well that put a stop to her little red wagon. Now what was she to do? If she excluded tomorrow, then that only left Wednesday during the daylight hours to see him before the party, and as he would no doubt be spending the morning relaxing, and the afternoon setting up and getting ready for his guests, that virtually stuffed the entire day. Her only real window of opportunity to see him on his own, seemed to be tomorrow night after his shift finished at the restaurant. With that decision made, and with the realisation that there was nothing more she could do tonight, she decided she would throw a TV dinner in the microwave, and would distract herself by vegging out in front of the television for a while. It had been a big day with a lot going on, she'd be having an early night, and would be in bed long before her mother came home. 

# Chapter 18

For the second night in a row Suzanne slept like the dead. She woke to the sound of rain lightly drizzling on the window pane, to bounce out of bed and pull back the curtains. Wow this was perfect. The skies were grey and there was no wind. She could be gone as soon as the traffic was off the road. All she had to do was to commandeer her mother's car for the day. Looking for the appropriate clothing to wear, she rattled through the drawers and closet, tossing outfits onto her bed and rushing about with the same feeling of excitement as a small child would on Christmas day to alert her parents that she was awake. She didn't have to, her mother was already up and about.

"Hi darling, you look in fine spirits this morning."

"Mum, any chance of borrowing your car today?"

"Can't see why not. Bit miserable for me to be going out. Did I wake you when I came in last night?"

"No, I slept like a log and didn't hear a thing. Got your message that Troy rang though."

"Susie, he's a lovely fellow. He was so excited to see you, and it was so nice of him to invite me to the restaurant. You did ring him back and confirm that we were going of course?"

"Justin and his daughter are also coming."

Her mother smiled mischievously.

"Well, this should be interesting," she chuckled. "And what about Jack?"

"No ... don't even think about it. He's here with his slut by the way. But there's an upside, we may be selling the business to a rival corporation, so I'll be flying out on Thursday to meet with the prospective buyer's late Friday to discuss the sale."

"Darling you only just got here. I'm just getting comfortable with you being around again."

"Yeah I know, but timing is everything in business, and this is too good an opportunity to pass up."

"What about Troy and Justin, do they know you're leaving?"

"Not yet."

"They'll both be shattered."

"Mum I don't want you telling anybody that I'm going, not yet, and I certainly don't want you mentioning anything about me selling my business. I'm just an accountant who works for a computer company ... remember."

"Okay, okay. But you just can't simply disappear, it wouldn't be fair. Perhaps you should try to catch up them both separately before the party tomorrow night, just to let them know what's going on."

"Well, I've already seen Justin. While you were at the bowling club yesterday, I spent the afternoon with him at Mrs Stevens place ..."

She waited for the comment to filter through before proceeding, and upon seeing her mother's face dance alive with surprise, couldn't help but wonder what a delightfully wicked child her mother must have been as she was growing up.

"And I'll hopefully see Troy tonight for a one on one. Then I'll be seeing them both together tomorrow night at the restaurant. Like you said, it should be interesting."

"Well at least you're out of the bog on the side of the road, and are moving again?"

"Yeah, but I'm not in the clear yet, it's still raining and there's a swollen creek up ahead to cross."

"And the bridge is probably washed away," added her mother

They both giggled at the analogy, which was directed towards the anticipated awkwardness of the coming event.

"Susie this is so exciting. So where are you going today in all this wet weather, or need I bother to ask?"

"Where do you think I'm going?"

"Well let me see. You've accepted that your marriage is over, and you're about to sell your business and walk away with a lot of money to begin your life again. You have two men who are interested in you, both of whom you are also attracted to. It's a warm, midweek day with a light misty rain falling, and you do have a lot on your mind. I reckon you're going to the beach, where there's nobody around on a day like this, to walk its shoreline and clear your head."

Suzanne was amazed.

"Am I that transparent and predictable?"

"No dear, you're my daughter."

~ ~ ~

Three hours later, after breakfast and gossiping for a while longer, she nosed her mother's car into the parking area of one of the northern beaches overlooking the ocean. It was perfect. She had driven around the empty car park for a little while, to find a wonderful vantage point where the sandy white shoreline practically reached up to kiss the front tyres. No doubt this scene on such a bleak day would depress a lot of people, and hence the reason why there was no one about, but this was nature's medicine, and she had it all to herself. Now she would bide her time without human distractions, to be hypnotised visually by the vastness of what lay in front of her. She would be comforted by the white noise of the surf crashing in the background, be calmed by the negatively charged ions in the atmosphere, and be intoxicated by the salty smell which was descending itself over her waiting body. Soon she would feel the call to walk its shoreline, but until then she would suck it all into her system. Her subconscious mind was already organising her troubled thoughts in its own rational way, all she had to do was to distract herself, and be swept away by the magnificence of what lay in front of her.

When her call to walk the shoreline finally came, it was precipitated, not by an unspoken command to simply get up and go for a walk, but by a startled reflex caused by something being tossed out of the ocean one hundred odd metres up the beach. Something as grey as the ocean and the skies above, was moving laboriously from the churning sands, and in a direction towards the protection of a rocky outcrop further away from the waterline. She had no idea how long she had been sitting in the car with her mind wandering. It could have been five minutes, half an hour or even longer. She wasn't wearing her watch, and she was out of the car and on the move before picking up her mobile or turning on the car's ignition to see what time it was.

She walked briskly, with her eyes locked on the creature and its painful movements, as she pulled the hood of her wet weather jacket out of its zippered compartment, to drag it over her head and secure it with a bow. Then using both of her hands as a water shield above her eyes, she squinted in an attempt to focus on what the creature could possibly be, as her imagination began to run wild. For all she knew, from this distance, that creature could be an injured person in a wet suit, a grey wet suit. Perhaps that person had speared themself whilst snorkelling or scuba diving, or had been bitten by an eel, or stung by blue bottles, or had been injured by some other creature more menacing. Feeling an urgency to hurry, she picked up the pace to quickly close the distance.

Sensing or hearing her approach, the creature turned its head to face her. It had teeth and it was snarling and making threatening gestures toward her. She stopped dead in her tracks and wiped her bulging eyes. It was a seal for goodness sake! It was just like the ones Troy had presented at the zoo demonstration, but this little bugger lacked the social niceties of its furry cousins, Bill and Bob. What had she been thinking? How could her brain have possibly registered, what her imagination had visualised to have been a human being, even up to twenty metres away? It was so apparent now. Thank goodness there was nobody around to witness her delusion. She stepped a little closer, and yet a little closer again, ignoring the creature's warnings to keep her distance, to finally stop five or six metres away.

She remembered Troy's warning to everyone in the audience, about the fiercely aggressive nature of a damaged wild seal, but she was morbidly drawn to, and fascinated to see the extent of damage which had resulted in the white sand around the creature having turned red. And it was only when the creature lunged at her, with the white of its eyes showing, that she finally saw the true impact of what its attacker had done. Cruel, raw lacerations parted the skin to expose the blubber on the underside of its belly, with their trails leading to a badly torn flipper from where the blood was freely flowing. She instantly moved back from the creature, not only fearful of provoking an attack, but also to give the frightened animal the safety zone it needed to not feel threatened.

It took a few seconds for the true ramifications of her dilemma to hit home. This seal wasn't going back into the ocean. Somewhere out there, just off shore, was a very hungry killer shark just cruising around and waiting for its dinner to come back into the water. She shuddered. She'd seen enough nature documentaries of great white sharks propelling themselves out of the water with a fur seal in its mouth, to give her nightmares about ever going into the ocean again, and she wouldn't be encouraging this damaged creature to go back in there either. She had to take responsibility for its safety. She didn't want its death on her conscious, particularly if it bled out and die right where it was now, simply because she hadn't done anything to help. She'd ring Troy, she really had no other choice. He was a marine biologist and he'd know what to do.

She broke into a bit of a sprint on the way back to the car, slowing down only to look over her shoulder to make sure that the seal was staying put. She figured that until the bleeding stopped, there would be no way that it would enter the water again, that is of course unless it was driven back into the ocean by heartless people, and to make sure that didn't happen, she'd have to stand guard over it until somebody came to the rescue. Reaching the car she opened her wallet and dragged out Troy's business card, to flip it over and breathe a sigh of relief at seeing his mobile number written on the back. Pulling out her mobile, she punched in the number, to hear it connect. It rang a second, then a third time. "Come on, come on, pick up," her little voice screamed. Fourth ring ... then fifth. "Answer the damn phone ... don't give me voice mail ... please don't give me voice mail." It rang a sixth time ...

"Hello, Troy speaking."

She felt so relieved, she could have cried.

"Troy, it's Suzanne. I'm on the beach with a seal that's been attacked by a shark. It's bleeding from rips in the belly and has practically half of one flipper torn off. Can you come and save it, please?"

"Settle down, tell me exactly where you are."

"The northern end of Daydream beach."

"Where the rocks are?"

"Yes, how did you know that?"

"I'm a marine biologist, I know these things," he said light heartedly, but then on a more serious note. "Look Susie, just sit tight. I'll come out with the recovery vehicle straight away, and I'll more than likely bring the vet with me, that way we'll sort it out one way or the other. We'll be there within the hour."

"Hang on, hang on. What do you mean by that, 'one way or the other'?"

"Susie, we're not heartless, but sometimes depending upon the extent of injury and loss of blood, it's necessary to put these creatures down."

"Ohhh."

"You've done the right thing, and don't panic, I'll be there soon."

With the call disconnected, she slipped the mobile into her coat pocket, and deep in thought, hopped out of the car to meander her way back down the beach to keep a vigilant watch. The previous picture-perfect scene of environmental harmony seemed now to have changed its flavour. The skies above were still overcast, and the rain, accentuated by the ocean driven spray, kept drizzling down to dampen the scene and make the mood feel really sombre. She squatted down some ten odd metres away from the seal, with her back against a boulder, to feel the cold on her wet thighs for the first time. She could probably sit comfortably at a distance in her mother's car, knowing that the creature wasn't going anywhere, but there would be no sense of duty, or self-sacrifice or any self-respect in that action. No, she would stick it out until Troy got here. She settled in to get herself comfortable the best she could for the long wait, but it wasn't long before her thoughts drifted with the hypnotic ocean tide.

She was a lot like that seal. Not so long ago she'd also been brutalised, not physically, but emotionally and psychologically, and like the seal, she had also swum away to escape her own sharks, to beach herself in a place of sanctuary to begin the healing process. She had been fortunate that fate had thrown two saviours in her path, in the form of Justin and Troy to help with that process. Since then the bleeding and pain had stopped, the wounds had scarred over, and now she was ready to dive back into the big ocean of life again. And being philosophical, it was no accident that she'd been 'Jonny on the spot' to find this seal in need of help. Fate had intervened to put her here on the beach in the first place, and now it was time for her to pay back a debt to the universe, by being its saviour.

By the time Troy had turned up, she was cold to the bone. Her jeans, socks and sneakers were now saturated, and somehow the dampness had worked its way up under her Parka, and the slightest movement was shooting shivers through her body.

"Oh good Lord Susie," he gasped. "You're wetter than that female seal. What were you thinking, to be walking out on the beach in this weather?"

He opened his huge wet weather jacket and pulled her body into his, to wrap her within his second skin. She instantly felt warmer by his contact.

"The vet's looking at her now, so we'll know in a few seconds. Yep, there it is, thumbs up. She's going to be okay, so you can stop punishing yourself."

From the security of her cocoon, she observed the vet walk back to the four wheel drive utility parked on the sand nearby, but she was not mentally prepared for what her eyes saw, or for what her brain interpreted as to what was to happen next. For a second or two her heart sank, along with her shoulders and jaw, as he extracted a gun and cocked its chamber.

"You said she'd be okay!" she screamed, attempting to tear herself away from Troy's arms and the second skin which bound her like a straitjacket.

"Susie ... settle down."

The vet had stopped what he was doing with her outburst, and was looking at Troy for direction.

"You can't shoot her. I won't let you!" she shouted in defiance, pushing away from Troy's chest, but being held tight.

"Susie! Susie ...!"

Troy shouted in rapid succession, jerking her repeatedly with his arms around her waist.

"It's a tranquilliser gun. We need to sedate her, to get her onto the utility, to take her back for surgery."

She fell silent, feeling a wave of foolishness wash over her body as with a nod of approval from Troy, the vet moved closer to the distressed creature and fired a single shot from his weapon. The sound of the guns percussion somehow brought her back to reality, and through her misty eyes, she could see the animal instantly become woozy from a dart sticking out of its neck, and with that, a sense of relief overtook her body.

"We've got a spare one of those in the utility if you'd like one?" he chuckled.

He held her in a way which strangely reminded her of her grandfather. A man with the understanding and wisdom of a hundred years, a man who had seen the cruel side of two world wars with all its human and animal suffering. She now felt secure in handing over the responsibility of this creature to him.

"I'm sorry I snapped at you."

"It's okay. Now come on, give us a hand to roll her onto the cradle, then we can get off the beach and go somewhere dry for a cup of coffee."

It was a relatively easy procedure. An extendable hydraulic hoist made light work of the lifting, and the flexible cradle design with its buckle-down straps and adjustable sling points, assured that the creature wouldn't be able to move for the duration of the journey. It was all over in a couple of minutes.

"The vet's going to take her back to the quarantine unit now and get her ready for surgery, but as we are short staffed at the moment, I'll have to go back and be his assistant. He'll be ready for me within an hour of getting her off the vehicle, so if you can drop me off at the zoo we'll kill some time over that coffee and a chat."

"She will be all right, won't she?"

"Yeah of course she will. Give her a couple of weeks to recover and then we'll be returning her to the ocean as good as new."

"What about her flipper?"

"Susie, thanks to you, she'll be fine."

They headed off, walking side by side, with their arms around each other's waist and sharing his wet weather jacket, as the four wheel drive utility worked its way with ease across the compacted wet sand, to climb the car park gutter and disappear from sight. It was only now that the drama was over, that she finally realised she was alone with Troy, and she was feeling extremely grateful and loving towards the guy. She pulled in tight on his waist, being conscious of their hips rubbing together with a vibrational friction which was sending mixed messages to her brain. And they walked without speaking. It didn't seem necessary to communicate. It was as if they were the one person. They stepped over the embankment of the car park with the same action and thoughts in mind as to where they were heading, to come to rest against the driver's side door, with him spreading his legs and pulling her in close to him. He raised his hands to push the water proof hood back off her forehead, to then hold her face and wipe the rain from above her eyebrows with his thumbs, before pecking her tenderly on the lips. He then drew back, comfortable with her acceptance, to gaze meaningfully into her eyes.

"I missed you terribly Susie," he said, now gently massaging her cheeks with his thumbs. "I'm so pleased you've come back into my life."

It was a perfect moment. A moment born out of a circumstance which had drawn them together with a common concern for an animal's survival, a moment with all the ingredients to feel totally euphoric. However, although the situation felt comforting, as well as emotionally and spiritually satisfying, it lacked the sexual flavour of the moment, and try as she may with the kiss that followed, it still only left her feeling lukewarm. Not that the physical kiss didn't feel and taste good, it did, it just lacked the old spark that she remembered. Maybe she was expecting too much too soon, or maybe Priscilla's essence was still lingering within him and was confusing the chemistry, but for whatever the reason, the overriding desire to tear off clothes and make love to him right there on the spot, didn't exist. And in that moment she couldn't help thinking of Justin, he was an instant turn on. Troy used to affect her that way too, but that was over twenty years ago, in another lifetime when hormones ran rampant and ruled the day. But if he could have that effect on her once, then surely he could have that same effect on her again.

"Are you coming tomorrow night?" he asked, pushing her hair to one side to kiss her neck.

She felt a swell of goose bumps pass over her body. That had to be a good sign.

"Yeah, I spoke to your daughter yesterday. Both mum and I would love to be there."

"I'm looking forward to seeing your mother again."

She consciously relaxed, arching her neck with approval, letting herself get washed away with the delightful sensation of his hot breath on her skin. She could feel the physical urges beginning to stir within herself. That was definitely a good sign. It would just take a little time to get acclimatised to him all over again, that's all.

Troy drew back his head, to lock onto her eyes, as he traced his fingers down her neckline and onto her chest to stop at the cleavage of her breasts.

"I've also invited your friend Justin."

Although it was Troy's soft fingers on her chest, the sheer mention of Justin's name and the thought of his calloused hands anywhere on her body, shot a message straight to her nipples and she felt them tighten. But why was Troy looking at her like that, and why would he mention another man's name while her sap was rising?

"Why did you do that?" she asked.

"I wanted to make sure that you came along, one way or another."

"So you loaded all bases?"

"Well yes, and I could see that you genuinely liked the guy. Better to be out in the open Susie. Nobody gets hurt that way."

He had made his point. He had observed her reaction, and seen her body dynamics change at the mention of Justin's name.

"Why did you keep my letter for twenty years?" he asked running his fingers over the mound of her cleavage.

"Because the words you wrote in it were so beautiful. I guess it was my hidden fantasy of a lost love."

"Are you sorry that you acted on it?"

His question came as he plied the skin of her neck with gentle kisses. His physical contact now had a different feel, as the true impact of his written words struck a romantic chord in her heart, and his gentle touch opened up closed doors of sensual pleasures in the outback regions of her subconscious mind. She could feel herself being swept away with the nostalgia of the moment, and she was silently willing him to stop teasing her and have his way with her for old time sake.

"It was like opening Pandora's Box," she responded fighting for breath. "But no, I'm not sorry I acted on it. I just saved a seal's life didn't I?"

Troy laughed, breaking contact and stepping out of her space to button up his jacket.

"This has been great Susie, and I love your line of thinking, but we've got to get going. No time for a coffee now, you've just reminded me there's a fur seal that needs my help."

And that was it, the spell was broken and she proceeded to drive him back to the zoo. They chattered along the way, about the good old days before Jack and Priscilla came along, but it was strange that he never mentioned Pricilla's name. It was almost as if he was deliberately avoiding talking about her, but perhaps that had something to do with him not wanting to offend her feelings by chatting about his deceased wife. After all, no woman wanted to be reminded of, or to feel compared to another female in a man's past, but surely under the circumstances of being reacquainted, that was acceptable. She had deliberately thrown Jack's name in a couple if time during the course of the conversation, as a prompt for him to reciprocate, but that hadn't got a response. Likewise, she had engineered conversations with enough opening and opportunities for him to jump right in, but that hadn't worked either.

It definitely seemed as though he were skirting around her, blocking her out, keeping her all to himself, but if that were the case, then why would her portrait be hanging in a public place for all to see and to enquire about. He hadn't been like this, or been so tight lipped about Priscilla the other day at the zoo. Did he all of a sudden feel, that by showing his affections to another woman that he was cheating on her? After all, it wasn't as if they were ever divorced. She had to know.

"Justin said something about a portrait of a beautiful woman hanging on your restaurant wall. Is that of your wife Priscilla?"

"Yes it is."

"Troy, I'm not prying, but I've noticed you're reluctant even to mention her name today. Why is that?"

Her tone was soft and compassionate, her question priming him for an empathetic response.

"I don't know Susie. I still feel really connected to her, so maybe I'm feeling a bit guilty about what's going on with you and me. Maybe I want to torture myself, and maybe that beautiful portrait acts as a constant reminder of what we shared."

"Torture yourself. Why?"

"Because she died, and went away and left me on my own."

"But you will love again. I know your spiritual philosophy. When two like souls collide, you will love again. That used to be your creed."

"Maybe that's what I'm now afraid of."

"You mean, with you and me?"

"Yes, the attraction and feelings will become stronger every time I see you, and maybe she'll fade away to be just a distant memory, and that would be so cruel and unjust."

"You know I can't make you any promises. I don't know where this new adventure of mine might lead."

"Susie, it's all right, I understand. This is the phenomena of fate and destiny we used to talk about, remember, cause and effect. Jack cheats on you, then you rediscover my letter and come searching, then you fall in front of a moving train to be saved by Justin. That's cause and effect. If it wasn't for Justin you wouldn't have confronted me on the day you both came to the zoo, and ultimately a seal's life wouldn't have been saved today. Everything is cause and effect. I love you Susie and I'll always love you. You've awoken my soul by just coming into my life again, but that doesn't mean I don't want to see you with someone else, or that I wouldn't be happy for you with your heart's choice of another partner."

Her eyes filled with tears. At the very least, she had a friend for life. She drove him to the front gates of the zoo, to briefly turn off the engine, get out of the car and walk around to his side and see him off with a hug of appreciation for everything.

"So I'll see you tomorrow night, at seven," he said kissing her goodbye.

She stood there watching him walk away, right up until he entered the turnstile entrance, where he twisted his body around with a wave and a smile over his shoulder, before turning his back to disappear into the crowd and out of sight.

# Chapter 19

The next day seemed to drag. By mid-morning, Julia had couriered across all the financial information she'd asked for, she had her outfit picked out to wear tonight, and she was sitting down with her mother having a cup of tea. She was pleased she'd spent the extra time alone with Troy and Justin, to better appreciate how she was feeling towards them both, but there was still one loose end to contend with, one blatant lie which remained to be somehow fixed, that of saying she'd never been to Priscilla's restaurant before.

Sandy would no doubt recognise her, and she'd had the opportunity on the phone yesterday to explain and rectify the situation, but she'd neglected to take it. It was probably no big deal anyhow, all she had to do was to get to the function a little early and drag Sandy aside, but that may prove to be a little difficult with Troy already being there. Perhaps though, she was making a mountain out of a mole hill. It probably wouldn't matter to Troy. It would show that she had been keen at the time to track him down, but had also been too embarrassed to admit she'd done a prior reconnaissance of his business. Justin however would see it as a barefaced lie. He would no doubt feel as though he'd been used all the way along, and that is something she certainly didn't want.

"It adds to the intrigue dear," said her mother.

"It makes me look like the liar, to everyone."

"Well one way or another, it'll bring out a response, and that'll be interesting in itself."

"Yeah, I can't argue with that."

"Are you going to tell them you're flying overseas tomorrow?"

"I don't know, maybe. I just don't want to complicate my life with conflicting emotions while I'm on the other side of the world trying to settle my financial affairs. I guess I'll play it by ear."

It was a strange unsettling sensation which she was experiencing. Everything was coming to a head, and it felt as though both Troy and Justin were pulling at the very fabric of her being. It left her with the sensation that she was about to run away from them both. Could it all be as simple as that though? Just get on the plane tomorrow and kiss it all goodbye. Tonight would no doubt churn up a finality of those feelings and decide the course of action which she would ultimately take.

~ ~ ~

Suzanne and her mother arrived at six thirty, parked the car and then made their way towards the restaurant. A large crowd had already arrived, and a sign saying, 'closed for a private function,' swung off the door. As they entered, they were welcomed by Troy's beaming face. He cuddled her first, to continue to hold onto her hands as he stepped back to cast his eye over her attire, and to make a comment about how gorgeous she looked. He then turned to her mother with open arms.

"Mary you haven't changed one little bit. I'm so pleased you came. Welcome to Priscilla's."

"This is a lovely place Troy."

"Take a wander around, help yourself to the drinks and appetisers. I've got to do my host duties until everyone arrives, but then we'll spend some time together."

Troy started to move, but hesitated before leaving their space, to reach out and squeeze her hand and give her a quick kiss on the cheek.

"I'm so pleased you're here, and by the way, your seal is doing fine."

After he'd left, they both moved away to find a good spot on the other side of the room, to soak up the atmosphere, have a drink and to watch the guy in operation.

"He always was a confident person wasn't he?" her mother remarked.

After seeing him in operation at the zoo with his seal presentation, she couldn't argue with that observation. He looked impressive then, just as he looked equally impressive now. He was the master of his own domain and in total control, and displayed that attribute as he flittered about, never moving too far away from the entrance to be able to greet his guests as they arrived with a handshake or a cuddle.

"It doesn't make me feel really special, when I see him flirting with every woman who comes in through the door."

"Oh come on Susie, you couldn't be jealous, surely?" said her mother, as she accepted an appetiser from a wandering waitresses.

"Mum, what do you think about Troy? You know, first impressions?"

"I don't know what you want me to say. He come across as safe and secure, with reliable and dependable qualities, I guess."

"So that's got to be good, right?"

"Of course darling, but you're barking up the wrong tree. You should be asking yourself, how it is that he makes you feel when he first walks into the room. I saw you with JJ the other day and you were alive with passion. All I feel here is a lukewarm respect."

Her mother was right, and if there was any doubt about what she was referring to, then the next few seconds, which ended up with Justin walking into the room and resulting in her heart temporally stopping, soon put that thought to rest. He stood in the mouth of the doorway, arm in arm with his pregnant daughter, and looking like a million dollars. She instantly grabbed her mother's arm. How was it possible that this guy on the other side of the room, could instantly make her palms hot and sweaty and have her thinking amorous thoughts?

"That's the reaction that I'm talking about," proclaimed her mother. "A reaction that can't be faked, or that money can't buy."

Troy cordially greeted Justin, to then briefly point in her direction, before turning back to the very pregnant Samantha, to hold her hand, step back and obviously compliment her on how healthy she looked. Justin had positioned himself so that he could not only observe and participate in Troy's flattery and antics with his daughter, but also be in direct eye alignment with her. She could feel his eyes upon her and that was exciting her no end, and as he and his daughter made a direct bee line towards them, she counted the slow motion seconds with her pounding heart.

"Suzanne, Mary. This is my daughter Samantha."

She remembered greeting Samantha and saying all the right thinks, but her mind was elsewhere, with her eyes stuck on Justin's face as if seeing him for the first time. Why hadn't she noticed those gorgeous dimples before, or observed the way his hair curled outwards from behind his ears? And what was it now about his voice that swirled around in harmony in her brain as though it belonged, and why when she stood this close to him should she feel that it wasn't close enough? It left her wondering if his hands were also hot and clammy and if his heart was racing just like hers. And what about her own body language, what was it saying? Was her attraction to him obvious? Troy must have thought so, he was observing, but also smiling. Surely then too, her mother must also know that she was on another planet.

"How long have you got to go Samantha?" she heard her mother ask.

"Doctor said I could deliver any day."

"And your husband, where is he tonight?"

"He's working back at the office for a couple of hours, so dad's elected to keep an eye on me"

"It's a case of if she sneezes the wrong way, then her water could break," laughed Justin.

Suzanne turned herself sideways and dragged Justin one half turn away from her mother's and Samantha's conversation.

"You look great in a suit."

"Are you teasing me again?"

The big guy may have been bashful, but he knew he scrubbed up okay, and his cheeky smile held back some candid comment which his dancing eyes could not resist. She knew what he was thinking though.

"Are you mentally undressing me?" she asked.

A grin exploded across his face, as his eyes flickered sideways to see if she had been overheard. He sidled really close, as though protecting their proximity to privacy against the rowdy intrusion of conversation in the room. She could sense his heart exploding, as he also turned, angling his body with his beer glass to his mouth as a cover-up to what he was about to say.

"I was actually," he said, leaning over to whisper his response.

"Well could you tell me where you're up to, so that I can keep pace?"

Towering head and shoulders above her, he looking down mischievously into her smiling eyes as his lips moved towards her ear. His aftershave preceded his advance, to blend with his body chemistry and join forces with his pheromones, to intoxicate her senses and leave her feeling light headed. She held her breath, anticipating his response, waiting for and needing his response. His mouth opened, pivoting skilfully between her head and shoulders, with his breath tiptoeing across the skin of her neck.

"My fingers have just undone the top three buttons of your dress, but my lips are on your neck."

She gasped. His breath was seeking out her sweet spots and she could practically feel his lips on her neck, and as for his fingers, the sheer mention of their touch anywhere on her body injected a shot of stimulation straight to her breasts.

"Another two buttons and you'll be at my waist, then what will you do?"

"I'm going to peel it over your shoulders, and watch it slide down over your body, to wrap around your legs on the floor."

Oh God, she had rehearsed this same scenario a couple of times earlier tonight whilst getting ready. She had stood in front of the full length mirror, undoing the five large buttons, slipping the dress off her shoulders to do a little giggle and watch as it fell elegantly to her feet. It had all been part of the dressing ritual to select the appropriate colour and feel of her underwear. The imagery of that moment now excited her and her body was tingling.

"Go on, you can't stop now," she gulped.

She wavered in her stance, not daring to move, not wanting to break the connection. The moment was precious and the visual image too real.

"I step in real close to you, so close that I can feel your body heat without actually touching you, just like we are now, and ..."

Had he moved closer or was she just being hypersensitive to his suggestions.

"Ever so gently my fingertips touch the surface of your abdomen, to tease the skin beside your hips and ..."

Suzanne caught her breath. Oh god, she could feel that exquisite sensation and feel the prickly heat rising throughout her body. She suddenly pulled away from him, breaking the trance like state, to feel as though she had just walked out of the darkened movie cinema into the daylight reality of the real world.

"Oh gosh," she gasped all embarrassed. "My palms are all hot and sweaty."

She blinked at his cheeky grin, turned off the carnal desires and attempted to tune her ears into the conversations which now seemed to be going on all around her. Composing herself, she reached for a nearby table serviette to dry her sweaty palms, then wrapped both hands around the body of her wine glass.

"Have you any names picked out?" she heard her mother ask.

They were still engaged in baby talk, so maybe only a minute or two at the very most had pasted by while she was stuck in the time warp with Justin.

"Are you feeling all right Suzanne?" asked the tormenter. "You look a little woozy."

"Just feeling a little light headed, that's all. It could be this warm wine."

"I'll get you a fresh one," he said, taking the glass out of her hand.

As he moved off looking for a waiter, she caught her mother's eye, to smile at her with gratitude. Mary knew that her daughter was off the planet, and had been deliberately distracting Samantha with idle conversation while she and Justin had had their moment. She doubted if Samantha had any idea of the sexual undercurrent which was taking place between them both, but the young woman's encouraging smile to her father indicated that she was aware that he was happy and enjoying himself.

"Here you go. A nice cool one to take the edge off."

Justin handed her another wine. It was definitely chilled, and she'd no sooner taken it from him to feel the coolness of the glass in the palms of her hands, when it became apparent that guests were sitting down at the tables, or wandering around looking for the location of their allocated seats.

"Must be time for dinner," she said. "Anyone know where we should be sitting?"

Almost as if a phantom had appeared, Troy was standing beside her with the palm of his hand in the small of her back.

"Yes, we are all on table number five," he answered, gesturing with his free hand in that direction. "The one directly under the portrait, and the closest table to the food coming out of the kitchen."

It was a rectangular table for six. Troy sat at the head under the portrait, she sat on his right, her mother on his left, with Justin seated next to her mother and Samantha seated across the table to be directly opposite her father. It prompted her mother to ask who was missing.

"My daughter Sandy," replied Troy. "She should be out soon. She's doing all the behind the scenes stuff which she really enjoys."

It seemed only appropriate, in light of the surroundings and the anniversary dinner, that the conversation should begin with the restaurant and how it all came to be, and after Troy had had his share of attention, he let everybody know by changing the conversation. He was good at taking control, and soon swung the attention over to Samantha and the excitement of her pending child. And when she was done, it was her turn.

"Susie did something incredible yesterday," he said. "She saved a seal's life. If it wasn't for her actions, the poor creature would probably be shark bait by now."

She didn't know why she should automatically look at Justin to see his reaction, but she did. In some strange way she felt guilty, feeling as if she'd betrayed him in some way by seeing Troy behind his back, or without his knowledge to have saved the seal in the first place. But the expression of genuine surprise on his face, and the words that fell out of his mouth, told her she'd short-changed his reaction.

"Oh wow!" he exclaimed, "You should feel really good about yourself. Tell us what happened."

Although her mother and Troy knew the details, she retold her story for the benefit of Justin and his daughter, to realise very quickly that they were both so proud of her for what she'd done.

"Yeah, I love to sit and watch the rain coming down too," said Samantha. "Sometimes I like to do exactly what you did, just drive out to the beach and daydream at its vastness, but I've never seen a seal floundering its way out of the ocean to get away from a shark before. You should feel honoured to have saved it, I know that I would. It's just so fortunate that you had Troy to call on for help."

With that said, the conversation swung around to the behaviour of fur seals, and brought Troy back into the centre of attention once again ... until guest number six turned up.

"Hi," said a bubbly female voice approaching the table.

Troy stood up, holding out his open arms to greet his daughter with a hug and a show of affection, before proudly introducing her to the table.

"I'd like for you all to meet my wonderful daughter, Sandy."

Oh shit! It was confrontation time. 

# Chapter 20

Troy began the introductions with Justin and his daughter, pausing just long enough to highlight who they were, and flattering Samantha once again on how wonderful she looked before moving on.

"And this is Suzanne. The one I was telling you about from twenty years ago, and this is her mother Mary."

"Hi, lovely to meet you both," she said shaking Suzanne hand, but looking at her curiously as though trying to recollect where she may have seen her before. "Dad has told me so much about you. You saved a seal's life yesterday?"

Suzanne smiled, but there was no need to open her mouth, her mother jumped right in to sidetrack Sandy's thoughts, by complimenting her on the fine effort that she was putting into the function. For a few minutes, the conversation was comfortable with everyone getting along and interacting nicely, until it came time to place an order for their meal. That's when the penny dropped and Sandy remembered where she'd seen her before, and although Suzanne saw her light of recognition come on, she was powerless to do anything about it.

"Now I remember!" Sandy exclaimed. "You were in a couple of days ago for lunch. You ordered the same quiche with the Caesar side salad as you have tonight. I knew I'd seen you before."

Well shit, that stopped the table conversation. Justin and Troy were temporally stunned to silent, but Sandy blushed, no doubt regretting she had embarrassed a guest, and wishing that she could have been a little more tactful with her revelation.

"You ... you've already been here Susie?" asked Troy somewhat taken back.

"Yes, sorry if I ruined your surprise."

Then there was an awkward sustained silence. She had lied to them both. Now it seemed so incredibly stupid and she didn't know what to say in her defence.

"Susie's flying home to the States tomorrow."

Her mother's comment came out of the blue. She tossed it out into the silent void, as though it was an appropriate passing comment to make as she reached across the table for a slice of garlic bread. Good one mum! That did little to throw the hounds off the fox's scent, now they had two trails to follow. She looked at Justin, then to Troy, then back to Justin again. He looked visibly shattered. He'd been struck by a double whammy, and her heart felt crushed as a few seconds later, he got to his feet to leave the table with the excuse of taking a short walk with his daughter before the meal arrived. He said it was doctor's orders, to keep the blood flowing and not to sit too long when she was this close to having a baby. Troy was silent until he was out of ear shot.

"You really hurt his feelings Susie."

"I know, and I lied to you, and for that I'm also sorry."

"Yes. However I suspect that you were keen to meet me, but were also unsure as to how you would feel when you did. So I can understand your denial, particularly in Justin's company. You didn't want to embarrass him did you?"

"No I didn't. The truth is, by the time I caught up with you at the zoo, I already had feelings for the guy."

"Then you've got to come clean with him and let him know how you feel, and you have to do it tonight. Tomorrow you're going away. You're breaking the cosmic flow, and things may never be the same again. Remember, cause and effect. You hurt him tonight, tomorrow he falls under a train and is saved by some gorgeous woman, and then you've lost him forever."

"And what about you. I came here to find you, and now I feel awful?"

Troy placed his hands on hers, to look into her eyes.

"With your help, I'll find another. Just promise me that you'll never leave me again, I've missed you too much."

"Finding your letter again after what Jack did to me, was the best medicine in the world."

"And for me too Susie. Now maybe it's time for me to take down that portrait."

"I'm sure Priscilla would understand."

"I know she would, and I know she'd want me to move on with my life, and for all that, I'm indebted to you."

Squeezing her hands, he raised them off the table to kiss them with the appreciation of that sentiment, just as Justin and his daughter walked back into the room.

"Do you want me to have a word with him Susie?"

"I dug this hole for myself, I guess I can get out of it by myself."

"Starting to get a bit cool out there," commented Justin, reaching the table and assisting his daughter to sit down.

He would have seen Troy holding and kissing her hand as he walked in, and although he smiled reassuringly to show that there were no hard feelings towards her, he would have no idea of what they talked about, or of what the outcome of their conversation had been. But if he was hurt for being deceived, or lied to, or for being kept in the dark about her true feelings, then she honestly couldn't blame him. This last week had been an emotional whirlwind of turmoil, and tonight had been the culmination of all those feelings. Jack was out of the picture and Troy now knew where her heart lay, but Justin didn't, and now that he knew she was going away, he would be throwing up his guard and be building his emotional wall. By the time she was on the plane tomorrow, the cement in that wall would be set, the razor wire on the top would be firmly in place, and no one would be getting over it, or through it, to hurt his feelings ever again.

She could tell by his mannerisms that he'd already poured the foundations, but what did that comment, "it's starting to get a little cool out there," mean? Was that a pre-emptive signal on his part to suggest that he would soon be leaving the restaurant? Was he suggesting that the flame between them was dying? What? She knew that when men talked about the weather, they had other things on their mind. It was one of their built-in evasive survival techniques.

"He's building a wall," whispered Troy, pouring her another glass of wine.

"I know."

"Don't forget he has a very pregnant daughter, and therefore a very good excuse for leaving right after the meal."

She felt an instant surge of uneasiness. Troy was right. She was on borrowed time, and currently locked into a seating arrangement, with him sitting one over and one back from her on the other side of the table. He was comfortably out of her intimacy zone, but it wasn't as if he was ignoring her either. He had already asked which airline she was flying with, and what time she was scheduled to fly out, and everybody had joked about the economy seating of long distance travel, and commented on how fortunate it was that she was able to upgrade her ticket to first class.

She suspected his subconscious was arranging his emotional security, and the wall would be complete by the time she departed the country. She reckoned his mind had opted to set up flood lights, to work through the night to speed up the building process, and she found herself wondering how high he would build the wall, and whether or not he would need scaffolding to reach the top course, and how he would secure that awful razor wire without ripping his arms to pieces. And she caught herself smiling at her own imagination. He was a practical man, and a big man with a big felt stockman's hat, and he would no doubt find a way.

The quiche once again was delicious, as was the Caesar salad. This time however she didn't spear at the cherry tomatoes, but instead took her time to cut them in half and savour their fleshy centres. She also found herself smiling at Justin as she observed his dining etiquette. He didn't wolf down his food and he didn't hurry his meal. Why did she expect that he would? Although he wasn't a vegetarian, he was a horticulturist who appreciated the time required for plants to yield their best produce, and was no doubt of the opinion that it would be sacrilegious to rush or wolf down any sort of meal. She also watched in fascination as his jaw mechanically moved, to chew and swallow his food. It excited her, as did the fact that he knew she was watching him. He periodically glanced up during conversations, to smile, to take a sip of wine and ask how she was doing. He was being too nice, being too understanding, which also meant that he was building too fast.

Then suddenly it seemed, the meal was over, and as the clean-up took place all around them, Troy was giving a speech to thank everyone for turning up and sharing this special moment with him and his daughter. And with that complete and the music starting, it only seemed appropriate that Troy should have the opening dance with his own daughter, and in the spirit of the emotional moment, invite others to join him in a waltz of remembrance. For whatever the reason, it also seemed appropriate to see Justin assist his daughter to rise, to hold her hand and guide her around the tables to join others on the dance floor. It warmed her internally, but it was Samantha's comment as she rose from the table and looked at her watch, which surfaced the inevitable anxiety within her.

"Dad I've got to be going really soon," she'd said. "Chris will be worried about me."

"I know," he'd responded. "We'll just have this one dance and then say goodbye to everyone, okay?"

She'd sat at the table all alone with her thoughts. He had given her an advanced warning of his intentions, along with a wry smile of regret and a look in his eye which portrayed a certain sadness of everything now being out of his hands. She felt horrible about the situation, a situation which had been of her own doing. No! It couldn't end like this, she wouldn't allow it. But before she could devise a plan of action, the first musical bracket had ended and both Troy and Justin were leading their respective daughters back to the table. Then it was too late.

She should have expected that Troy would want the second dance with her, and before she was aware of what was going on, he had dragged her to her feet and onto the dance floor. It was a slow number and she automatically followed his lead to waltz about all over the floor, but her attention was distracted elsewhere. She was constantly looking over his shoulder and turning her head towards where her mother was trying to stall Justin from leaving, by insisting he have a dance with her before he did. She watched, holding her breath in suspense, as his body language and the gesturing of his hands indicated that it was time to go and that he had to get his daughter home. Her mother was obviously very convincing, laying her hand on Samantha's shoulder in some sort of plea bargain deal, to see Samantha nod with a smile of approval, before grabbing Justin by the arm and dragging him reluctantly towards the ball room floor.

"Your mother's snagged the big fella," chuckled Troy doing a three hundred and sixty degree twirl. "This bracket is just about finished, get ready for the cut in."

Troy swapped her from arm to arm, working his way towards Justin and her mother. He pulled her close, released her, and swung her around with the control and grace of his ballroom expertise, to land practically on their doorstep, and then with a dip and a flick to bring her back into his arms, he said his farewell with a peck on her lips.

"I love you Susie. Thanks for coming back into my life."

With a perpetual motion, he let go of her hands, to twirl around and slip his arm graciously behind her mother's back.

"Mary!" he said to the surprised woman. "Let's see if you're half the dancer that I remember you to be."

And with that Troy was gone, and there they stood, the big fella and herself, somehow holding hands and rocking around in circles with all that awkwardness in between.

"You were leaving tonight, and you weren't going to say goodbye?"

"You were leaving tomorrow, and weren't going to tell me?" he responded.

"I didn't want to hurt you anymore."

"You've already hurt me enough."

"You mean because I lied to you and deceived you?"

"Why would you do that Suzanne, I've always been open and honest with you?"

"Because, I thought I was protecting your feelings."

"You don't protect someone's feelings, unless you genuinely feel something for that person."

"How the hell was I supposed to know, that I was falling in love with you," she shouted in frustration.

There, she'd said it. She had just admitted to herself, to Justin, and to the other dozen or so people standing close enough by to hear her raised voice as the music and dancing stopped. It now seemed as if everyone was motionless, looking at him, waiting for his response while they waited for the next musical bracket to play before moving again. He didn't know how to respond, or what to say. He reached up with his hand as though to nudge his invisible hat, but his hand went nowhere. He was confused. His wall was half way built, the cement was still wet and now there were giant cracks and fissures appearing in the brick work.

"You couldn't be in love with me," he said stone faced, almost as if this were his worst nightmare coming true.

The music started again, the dancers begun their waltz and she moved in a little closer.

"Why couldn't I?" she asked softly.

"Because this can't be happening. You're in love with Troy. You came here in search for him. And you lied to me Suzanne, you deceived me and you were going away and weren't going to tell me. I don't want to be hurt anymore. Look I've got to go. I've got to get my daughter home."

He looked down at her with those big sad puppy dog eyes. He was afraid to go, but he was more afraid to stay. His eyes became misty as the urgency to leave consumed him. Gently he squeezed her hands, before turning his back to leave her in the middle of the dance floor, to make a hasty retreat back to the table to reunite with his daughter and vacate the premises without looking back. For a few long seconds she was unable to move, and simply stood where he'd left her, with an open wound in her chest exposing the emptiness where her heart used to be.

# Chapter 21

It had been a restless night's sleep, and the morning had been just as unsettling. She had moped around the house with the emptiness of that roaming entity inside her until it was time to go to the airport. He hadn't called and it was obvious he wasn't about to, and although she'd picked up her mobile phone a dozen times to ring him, she'd hesitated and changed her mind on every occasion, convincing herself that it was up to him to make contact. She had been a horrible person, she could admit that, but she'd apologised for lying and deceiving him, and had opened up her heart to tell him how she truthfully felt, and surely that must account for something.

That all seemed so pointless now, now that she was on the cusp of hopping on a plane to leave everything behind and fly halfway around the world. But every cloud had a silver lining, and the excitement of being within the confines of the international airport rallied her considerably, and although the roaming emptiness was still there, the anticipation of going home to see her own daughter lightened the load. It was a consoling thought, that was about to be upstaged by an anomaly which would see her heart flutter to miss a beat.

She was standing in the check-in line, shuffling forward with dozens of other travellers waiting their turn to be processed, and had just stepped forward to the smiling face of the assistant behind the desk, to check in her luggage and receive her boarding pass, when she first noticed the hat. It was moving away from her in the distance, bobbing up and down above the heads and shoulders of the swarm of people, heading in the direction towards a large rent-a-car sign on the other side of the building. It was a stockmen type hat of a light blue/grey colour, very similar to the one that Justin had worn on the day they'd gone to the zoo. But no, it couldn't be!

A couple of minutes later, with boarding pass and ticket in hand, she hastily moved away from the counter, heading back to where she'd left her mother sitting on a seat out of harm's way. Where had that hat gone, where had it disappeared to? She cast her eyes in the direction of the rent-a-car sign, scouting the area to see where everyone was heading, to then realise there was an escalator under the sign leading down to the next level. Whoever was wearing the hat, could now be anywhere within the huge complex and not be seen again. This was ridiculous anyhow. He wouldn't be here, he'd have rung if he was.

"All done," she said approaching her mother. "I have an hour to kill before going to the departure lounge. How about a cuppa before I fly out?"

They followed the signs to the coffee shops, taking the same escalator down to the next level as the wearer of the hat had done five odd minutes earlier. The food court area with its many coffee shops and food outlets, blended in amongst the multitude of other duty free and souvenir shops, and after lining up to get a cuppa, they found a vacant table with two seats out in the thoroughfare. She had just emptied her sugar sachet into her coffee, when her mother excitedly grabbed her on the arm.

"Darling, that bloke over there in the souvenir shop, with his back to us. No not there ... look, through the glass ... the shop besides the duty free perfumes. There!" she exclaimed pointing her finger frantically. "Moving now with the light blue/grey coloured hat. That's not JJ is it!?"

She was on her feet and moving before her mother could say another word. She briskly walked the short distance, being determined not to lose sight this time, to round the corner and walk in the shopfront door. His body frame from the back was the same, the hat was the same and when he spoke, it was his voice. Her hand went to her mouth and a flush of moisture fogged over her eyes.

"Yeah, I reckon that's the right colour," he was saying. "It would suit her eyes and her complexion, but I'm not sure about the head size though. She's sort of really dainty and cute."

He was buying her a hat, the crazy big oaf.

"Perhaps we could drag a couple of women into the shop, and ask them to try it on, just so you'd have a better idea," said the overweight male salesperson.

Suzanne pretended to be browsing, but was observing and listening intently to what was being said.

"I don't think that anyone would come close to this little lady," he chuckled. "She's definitely one in a million."

"Sounds to me like you should be putting your brand on her."

"Believe me, I'd like to, but I think I've blown it. I think my fears may have gotten in the way."

"Then maybe you should be telling her how you feel."

"That's exactly what I intend to do. Look, this one will have to do. I've got to find her before she gets on the plane and leaves the country, then it's too late."

"Hang on then, let's try it on this little lady first. Excuse me miss ..."

Justin turned to see who the salesperson was referring to. He practically dropped the hat from his hands with the surprise of seeing her. He stood speechless with his big frame sort of wavering and grappling for support while he waited for the appropriate words to drop out of his mouth.

"I ... I couldn't let you go without telling you how I feel," he spluttered.

"And how do you feel?"

She closed the gap with misty eyes to stop within his reach. The big guy's chest began to heave, his body began to tremble and his eyes started to swell.

"I'm in love with you Suzanne," he confessed with his voice breaking. "It feels as if I've waited my whole life for you to come along, and now I can't bear the thought of you not being with me."

He threw his arms around her, to drag her close and hold her tight.

"I had to tell you how I feel, and I wanted to give you this hat, as a token for you to remember me by."

Suzanne let the flood gates open. She couldn't have held her emotions back even if she had wanted to. She had embarked upon an adventure, being led blindly by a hidden letter which suggested that when the time was right, her heart and soul would guide her to find true love. Somewhere along the way, fate had intervened and its message had been sent off course, but it didn't matter. She now knew where her heart and soul belonged.

# Also by R.J. Boyd

All available as ebooks from your favourite on-line retailer

## Shades of Misty Blue

Kristy's cat, Misty Blue, is dying. To escape her heartache, she goes to a hypnotist show and ends up as one of the subjects. She embarrasses herself when she sits on a handsome stranger's lap, to kiss and cuddle him. She is a rural journalist. He works for an animal welfare organisation. Their paths would cross again.

## Justice is Personal (The Jamie Wells saga Book 1)

Forty years ago a young woman had been gang raped and murdered. Five years ago there was an Inquest into her death, with a finding of insufficient evidence to commit anyone to trial. The gang had gotten away with murder. But a chance encounter with one of the suspects, by the brother of the dead woman, were about to see events turn full circle.

## Justice is Closure (The Jamie Wells saga Book 2)

In a sequel to, 'Justice is Personal,' Jamie Wells continues his quest to get justice for his sister Laura. Since the inquest, he had executed two of the three surviving suspects. Now he's pursuing the last man. His quest for justice would see him form an unlikely alliance with a female investigative reporter, to hunt down other sexual offender.
