By Marriage Divided. Lindsay Armstrong
his jacket and picked up the bill. ‘Shall we go?’
‘Your car has been delivered, Dom.’
Domenica looked up from her drawing-board. It was seven o’clock the same evening. She and her partner, Natalie White, were working late although their other staff had left and it was Natalie who was standing beside her dangling a set of car keys.
Domenica looked at the keys then at Natalie, dazedly. ‘But it can’t be. They said it could take at least a day or two to get the part.’
‘Nevertheless…’ Natalie grinned ‘…it has just been delivered by a driver wearing a Keir Conway overall who told me to tell you that, on instructions from the boss, he rushed the part down himself, supervised its installation and drove the car back. He also said that, while you should have no more immediate problems with it, it’s probably about time you gave some thought to acquiring a new vehicle. Oh, and the bill has been settled, compliments of the boss, too.’
Domenica looked around the colourful chaos of the studio with its big half-moon windows, and said something unprintable not quite beneath her breath.
‘Darling,’ Natalie murmured, ‘I know you explained briefly about this Angus Keir and what you hold against the man, but are you sure you’re not spurning a knight in shining armour? When a country garage tells you it could take at least a day or two to track down a part, in my experience and certainly for a car that’s not in its first flush of youth, they’re actually talking in terms of weeks!’
Domenica started to say something but Natalie went on, ‘And considering that your hatchback doubles as our delivery vehicle, considering—’ she gestured around ‘—how much stock we have to deliver at the moment and the cost of hiring a vehicle—’
‘Stop,’ Domenica broke in but chuckling. ‘You’re right! It still doesn’t make me enjoy being beholden to the man!’
Natalie, a five-feet-two bubbly blonde, perched on the corner of a cutting table and studied Domenica thoughtfully. ‘I would say this Angus Keir is well and truly smitten, Dom. Is that such a bad thing? Sounds as if he’s rolling in dough.’ She shrugged and eyed her friend and partner shrewdly. ‘What exactly did happen between you two?’
Domenica frowned, because her encounter with Angus Keir had started to take on a surreal quality. They’d said little on the drive back to Sydney, and she’d recovered her composure sufficiently to thank him both for the lift and lunch, although with a cool little glint in her eyes as if to warn him off. But either he’d heeded it or he’d needed no warning off, because he’d responded in kind, and left it at that. All the same, she’d had the feeling she was amusing him and that would not be that—as she now knew.
But even with this reminder—she took her keys from Natalie and stared at them—the whole encounter seemed more like a dream than reality, except for the fact that it had been difficult to concentrate all afternoon because even a dreamlike recollection of events had made her feel restless and edgy.
She sighed suddenly. ‘I don’t really know, Nat. But for some reason he—makes me nervous.’
She was to repeat that sentiment later in the evening, at home with her mother and sister Christabel.
At twenty-two, three years younger than Domenica, Christabel still lived at home with Barbara Harris at Rose Bay in a house overlooking the harbour.
Close to the shopping delights of Double Bay and because she’d lived there for the past twenty years, Barbara Harris had mentioned several times that she’d die rather than be parted from her Rose Bay home although it was far too big for just her and Christabel.
She’d also tried to make Domenica feel guilty about moving out to a flat of her own several years previously and had tried desperately to persuade her to come home after Walter’s death. But Domenica knew that it had been a wise move to stay put because she and her mother were at their best with each other when they each had their own space. Although she often spent the night or the weekend with them and would do so tonight.
Whereas Christabel, who had always been quiet and studious and looked set to follow in their father’s footsteps, was able to shut herself off from Barbara’s more difficult moods. Still at university pursuing an MA in History, she was also working part-time as a research assistant for a writer, and, Domenica thought affectionately of her sister who was also dark but short, thin and amazingly unsophisticated, she often lived in a world of her own.
Tonight, though, as they ate a late meal together it was Christy who said, ‘If he’s right and he can give good investment advice, it could be the end of all our problems.’
Domenica grimaced. She’d just passed on the salient points of her encounter with Angus Keir, which had not included the personal, and contrived to strike her mother dumb.
It didn’t last long. Barbara reached for her wineglass and said in a wobbly voice, ‘This is amazing. This is sensational! I’m saved! Unless—’ she looked at her elder daughter piercingly ‘—there’s something you haven’t told us!’
‘Not really,’ Domenica sidestepped. ‘I just, well, don’t know if we can trust the man, for one thing. For another he did tailor his offer for Lidcombe Peace to suit our rather desperate circumstances and I find that…’ She shrugged.
‘But if this is true, it’s more than made up for it, Domenica. Who is he, by the way?’ Barbara asked.
Domenica told them his name.
Barbara looked blank but said all the same, ‘I think I’ll invite him to dinner. He must have some good reason for wanting to help out and—’
‘No—uh—Mum, just hang on a minute,’ Domenica broke in. ‘Let me check him out first before we plunge into wining and dining him. I’d also like to check out the Blacktown scenario for myself. Please?’
‘Well…’ Barbara looked undecided and Christy suddenly tapped the table with her fingers.
They both turned to her. ‘It’s got to be the same one,’ she said, frowning. ‘Angus Keir, you said his name was, but does he own Keir Conway Transport?’
‘That’s him,’ Domenica agreed a shade darkly. ‘Do you know him?’
‘No, but I’ve been researching him for Bob’s next book tentatively titled New Money. Which he’s made a mint of, Angus Keir.’
‘Oh. A self-made man,’ Barbara said disappointedly and got up to make coffee.
Domenica and Christy exchanged glances, although Domenica was actually feeling relieved, because nothing could dampen their mother’s enthusiasm more than ‘new money’. But she couldn’t resist asking Christy for more details.
Her sister shrugged. ‘He was born and raised on a sheep station way out west. Apparently his mother deserted both he and his father, who was employed on the station as a boundary rider and wanted no other life. But Angus broke the mould. Exceptionally bright at what schooling he did grab, he—’
‘Started with one eccentric old truck and turned it into a transport empire,’ Domenica finished for her.
Christy raised an eyebrow.
‘He told me that bit.’ Domenica propped her chin on her hands. ‘Is there more?’
‘He’s branched out a bit, he’s expanded his business overseas,’ Christy said thoughtfully. ‘In fact, I would say that Angus Keir knew exactly what he was talking about in regard to the Blacktown property and could probably make Mum a small fortune with the proceeds. But you obviously didn’t like him, did you, Dom?’
Domenica looked into her sister’s dark, intelligent eyes. ‘I…don’t know why but he made me feel…nervous.’
Christy considered. ‘On the other hand, to know that Mum was happy, settled and back in what she considers her rightful milieu would be such a weight off our minds, wouldn’t it?’
Domenica