Chapter 10
Chapter Ten
‘So, how was your meeting with Oliver?’ asked Jen as she cut and washed lettuces.
It seemed Jen really did like hanging out with her, thought Lucy. Either that or she enjoyed the grunt work.
‘Badly,’ said Lucy, briefly leaning her head against Jen’s shoulder. Jen gave her head a brisk pat with her wet hand.
Lucy straightened and wiped a drip off her shoulder, shooting Jen a dark look. Jen grinned. Lucy’s dark look faded. She loved how happy Jen was now.
‘I walked out,’ she added.
‘Again? Is that wise?’
‘No.’
Lucy picked at some food on the prep bench, nibbled it, then tossed it away. She’d thought the sick feeling in her stomach was hunger. Turned out to be worse than that. Emotions were so annoying.
‘Oh, Lucy!’ Jen looked worried. ‘Mind you, I’m not surprised Oliver is running rings around you —’
‘He’s not —’
‘Yes, he is. From what Sam says he’s had long practice at it. Apparently Oliver is used to getting his own way because he’s utterly ruthless.’
It confirmed Lucy’s thoughts. She sighed and sat down heavily.
‘He is running rings around me, isn’t he?’
Jen nodded. ‘I’m afraid so. Question is, what are we going to do about it? We can’t let him win.’
‘He isn’t about to win. He needs to consult the community, and that’s our biggest weapon. He needs me still. Not necessarily me, of course — just what I represent. Someone with influence.’
‘Ooh,’ said Jen. ‘That sounds fancy.’
‘Maybe. But it’s true.’
‘So, if he needs you, what’s he doing walking away from you?’
‘Because he’s testing me. He wants to know if I realise he needs me. With me walking away this second time, he knows I’ve got the upper hand. He’ll be in touch again. And soon. I know it. From what Dan’s said, the deadline this is all leading to is fast approaching.’
Jen shook her head. ‘This is all too complicated for me. Goodness. It’s like some kind of weirdo game you two are playing. Mind you, you always were good at games.’
‘Still am.’ Lucy lifted her chin. ‘I left, called his bluff and he has no choice but to come grovelling back to me. You’ll see.’
Her phone dinged. Jen burst out laughing and crowded in beside her, looking over her shoulder.
‘It’s not, is it?’
Lucy turned the screen to her triumphantly. ‘He’s on his way over. He’s obviously been stewing on it. I think I’ve got him, sis.’
She glanced through the café to the street and saw Oliver already striding towards the door. He hadn’t even waited for her reply.
He really must be more desperate than she’d imagined.
‘Hey, Jen, when he comes in, can you direct him through the alley to the garden? Tell him I’m out there?’
‘The alley we don’t use?’
‘Yes, that’s right. The one with all the cobwebs.’
It might be petty, thought Lucy, but it made her happy.
It was going from bad to worse, Oliver thought, following the waitress’s vague directions along the side of the café and into a narrow alley.
The place smelled of damp and rot. Something brushed against his face — cobwebs, maybe a spider. He swore under his breath and kept going.
At the far end, a gate was set into a brick wall. As he approached, there was a soft click and it swung open.
Beyond lay a garden. Overgrown, wild, tangled with wisteria and herbs and climbing things that had long since escaped any idea of order. Light filtered through the leaves in greenish shafts. At the far end, Lucy sat at a small wrought-iron table.
She lowered a remote in her hand and looked at him coolly.
He stepped through the gate just as a low-hanging vine, caught by the breeze, swung into his head. She didn’t move.
‘Lucy,’ he said, slapping the vine away. ‘Thanks for inviting me over.’
‘Please, take a seat, Oliver.’
He glanced at the chair she indicated. The wrought-iron seat looked both uncomfortable and vaguely lethal. He could already imagine rust marks across his trousers. He hesitated, then sat anyway.
She folded her arms. ‘You wanted to see me.’
‘Yes.’
‘Why?’
‘Because you walked away from me again.’
Her mouth curved. ‘Funny how that keeps happening.’
He leaned forward. ‘The truth is…’ The words stuck. He took a breath. ‘I need you.’
That earned him her full attention at last.
‘I thought as much,’ she said. ‘So this is a negotiation?’
‘Call it what you like.’
Before he could continue, she cut in. ‘You should know something first. I’m not backing down. The hotel stays.’
‘The hotel will be demolished.’
‘It won’t.’
They locked eyes.
A waitress appeared silently with a teapot and cups. Oliver didn’t drink tea. Lucy poured.
‘There you go,’ she said pleasantly.
He eyed the cup. She nodded encouragingly. It seemed he was expected to drink. He took a cautious sip and regretted it instantly. Smoke and bitterness flooded his mouth. He forced it down.
She didn’t touch hers.
‘Now,’ she said, ‘you were saying?’
He unrolled his plans across the table and weighted them with a stone.
‘I’ve made adjustments,’ he said. ‘To accommodate the — ’ He paused, then forced the word. ‘Community.’
One eyebrow flicked upward.
‘This entire section here,’ he continued, pointing, ‘will be opened into a shared space. With garden access. Free use. Free rent.’
She leaned in and studied the plans.
‘The darkest part of the building,’ she said quietly. ‘Right beside the service alley.’
‘It’s quiet.’
‘And boxed in.’ Her finger traced the solid wall separating the space from the rest of the hotel. ‘No access to anything else. No bar. No facilities.’
‘It’s still a major concession.’
‘It’s a sop.’
He straightened. ‘It’s generous.’
‘It’s segregation.’
He stood. ‘You’re deliberately misreading this.’
‘No. I’m reading it exactly as it is. You take our heritage, replace it with your palace and throw us a windowless room near the bins.’
Silence stretched between them, heavy as the humid air.
‘I came here as a courtesy,’ he said at last. ‘But I don’t need your approval. I’ll take this straight to the village.’
‘Do,’ she said. ‘You won’t get far.’
‘I always get far,’ he said. ‘I always win.’
Her smile faltered — just a fraction. Only someone looking closely would have seen it. He did.
He rolled up the plans. ‘Thanks for the tea.’
‘You enjoyed it?’
‘It was vile.’
She laughed despite of herself. He turned away so she wouldn’t see his answering smile.
‘Oliver.’
He paused, half expecting — half hoping — that she’d changed her mind. But she was still smiling, which he took to be a bad sign.
‘Your trousers.’
He looked down. Rust streaked the pale fabric where he’d been sitting.
Her smile went sweet. ‘That chair really should be replaced.’
He walked away without another word.
‘I can’t believe the gall of the man!’ Lucy paced up and down the rear verandah of MacLeod’s Cottage. Her head and body and heart and soul were consumed with Oliver Perry-Warnes and his plans. ‘By changing his plans for the hotel he thinks he’s doing me a favour —’
‘A favour for you?’ Dan straightened from where he was leaning against the balustrade, concern tightening his features. ‘Why would changing plans be doing only you a favour?’
‘I mean us, the community, the whole village of MacLeod’s Cove.’ Heat flooded her cheeks. ‘He thinks he’s doing us all a favour by sectioning off one small area where we can do whatever it is he thinks we do.’
‘I guess that’s something,’ said Dan.
Lucy knew he didn’t feel the way she did. He’d been away too long. But at least he was in her corner. And if he hung around much longer, he’d be a resident of MacLeod’s Cove whether he liked it or not. No one quite knew what he was doing. He seemed in limbo.
‘It’s something, all right.’ She muttered an expletive under her breath. Dan’s eyebrows shot up. She rarely swore. But then, she rarely had cause to.
‘Lucy,’ said Kate quietly.
Lucy turned to find her entire family watching from around the table as if she were a show. She’d almost forgotten they were there.
‘Why don’t you come and sit down and have something to eat,’ Kate suggested.
She huffed out a breath. Food was her mother’s answer to everything. Usually it was her own, too. One glance at the spread and she had to admit Kate might be right.
She dropped into the chair beside Jen, with Sam opposite. It was nauseating but sweet the way Sam always insisted on facing Jen. Ugh.
Jen scooped up a bowl of Greek salad and handed it over. ‘Here you go.’
‘Thanks.’ Lucy tucked in hungrily, tearing a slice of bread to mop up the oil. All this emotion had meant she’d skipped her usual café lunch.
‘Do you want me to have a word with Oliver, Lucy?’ asked Sam. ‘I will if you’d like me to.’
‘You think you can do better than me?’ The sharp retort slipped out before she could stop it.
‘Lucy!’ warned Jen, shooting Sam an apologetic look.
Lucy closed her eyes briefly. ‘Sorry, Sam. I’m just riled up.’
‘It’s OK. And just to be clear, I don’t think I can do better at all,’ he said.
‘I know you’re working really hard to sort this out.
But I’ve had dealings with the man before.
I know these kind of guys and what makes them tick.
It’s partly what drove me away from Australia and the industry in the first place. ’
Once again Lucy thought how lucky Jen was. A man who adored her, and who was good through and through. Not the sort of man Lucy’s radar picked up on. Apparently she needed some kind of edge, some dangerous element to make her interested.
‘Sorry, Sam. I know you mean well. But it would just look weird. Me sending in my brother-in-law to do what I’ve failed to do.’
Sam grinned.
‘Not quite yet brother-in-law,’ said Jen, glancing at Liam, who hadn’t overheard.
Lucy shrugged. ‘For all intents and purposes he is. Anyway, I’ll continue doing what I’m doing.’
‘And what’s that?’ asked Kate.
‘Disrupting the consultation process. To get approval to demolish the hotel he’s got to prove he’s consulted directly with immediate neighbours, local Māori, heritage groups, business associations and community groups.’
‘Goodness, that’s a lot of consulting,’ said Kate.