Chapter 2 #2
Arthur continues speaking but I barely hear him. I watch his mouth move, unable to process his words.
If I go after this well, I enter the bullring with the man who brought down my father. It’s knocked me completely, brought home the sense of raging fire that I feel every time I think about Caspar Kahn and what he did. This feeling isn’t fear. No, with Kahn, I want revenge.
* * *
I’m holding a mug of much-needed caffeine in two hands, sitting at my desk in SP’s office space in our high-rise block on the north bank of the River Thames, the Shard gleaming under the autumn sunlight through my window.
I’ve almost completed my tender bid. With SP’s blending capabilities, this could actually prove profitable.
Not highly profitable, but profitable enough for me to justify to my board without having to explain that I’m gunning for a small slice of revenge.
I call Arthur and discuss it with him.
‘Do you think we should bid at eighty million?’ I ask for final confirmation.
He exhales heavily down the line.
‘What is it, Arthur?’
‘Why do you want the well, Dayna?’
‘We’ve just discussed this for half an hour. I could turn a profit from the well for at least four years at current oil prices, and if the price per barrel rises we’ll make?—’
‘Tell me it has nothing to do with Roger.’
I sigh as I shift my focus to the picture of my father on my sideboard.
It’s in black and white, but I remember each and every colour: the glistening ocean, the yellow of the rig, the bright red of the too-big hard hat I was wearing.
My father is smiling, his arms wrapped tightly around me, and I’m giggling.
I was six in the photograph. Then, I still had a complete family: mother, father, daughter.
‘Arthur, I told you I was looking for a new opportunity before you told me about this, before I knew I’d be going up against Caspar Kahn.’
‘So long as that’s the case, I support you. But men like Kahn aren’t to be messed with, Dayna.’
‘I’m a big girl and this is business. Just business.’
I try to remind myself of that when I submit the bid a matter of hours later.
I know this industry is black, but I’m here, with my family’s name to defend, and I’m damn sure I’m going to do that. SP won’t be seen as the weakest link any longer, and getting this well is the first step towards change.
Once the bid is in, I try to forget about it. The chances are SP won’t rank in the top three in any event, not with the amount I budget for health and safety these days.
I resume looking over the CVs of candidates for the new Head of Trading post and pull up my calendar to give Rachel – my best friend and PA – potential dates for interviews.
‘Ah, Rach, why is my calendar showing that I’m out of the office Friday and Monday?’
She appears at the door from her desk in the open plan. ‘Because you’re not in the office Friday or Monday.’
‘And why is that?’
‘I told you I’ve arranged a birthday surprise for you.’ She flashes me a coy look and ruffles her hair.
‘I thought you just said that to get my mum off my back and give me a legitimate excuse not to attend Anna’s birthday party.
’ For a nanosecond, I’m excited. No one ever surprises me and getting out of my stepsister’s birthday party with all her snooty friends feels like winning the lottery.
‘What are we doing?’ Then reality dawns on me.
‘I can’t just take two days out of the office last minute. ’
She walks into the room and plants herself on the arm of my sofa. ‘To your first question…’ She taps her index finger against the side of her nose, which makes me laugh again. ‘To your non-point, we’ll have Wi-Fi, and you don’t have any meetings scheduled.’
‘The tender bid results are due back on Friday. And I’m at the crude conference in Dubai on Monday, I’ll need to?—’
‘Relax. You can pick up the results on your phone or laptop, it won’t change where SP ranks, and I’ve booked your return flight straight to Dubai on Monday morning.’
I take a moment to absorb that. Okay, she’s thought of everything. I know she’ll have it all covered. And I’m taking a break! Mentally, I do a little jig. ‘Soooo we’re flying somewhere?’
She shrugs and stands on her skyscraper heels to leave the room. ‘Oh, you should probably pack your ski gear. And be ready to go to Heathrow at five on Friday morning.’
As she closes the door behind her, I allow my feet a short, giddy dance under my desk before I get back to work.
At twelve thirty, I see Rachel has turned on my automatic email replies, and I pack up my things.
‘Rach, I’m heading off now. I’ll be back online after three-ish, but I’ll be working from home.’
‘Say hi from me,’ she says with a gentle smile that forms a lump in my throat. I nod.
Duncan is waiting outside the main entrance.
‘I’ve picked up the bouquet for you, Dayna. It’s in the back.’
‘Thank you.’ I dip into the Mercedes and sit next to the large arrangement of white flowers, boxed with water and covered in cellophane to protect the petals from the harshness of the late-November weather. ‘They’re beautiful,’ I say to no one in particular, inhaling the scent of a lily.
I take a small bottle of brandy from my handbag and hold it, with the flowers, on my lap until we reach the cemetery.
‘Take as long as you need. I’ll be here,’ Duncan tells me as he helps me out of the car.
My father’s headstone rests next to my grandfather and grandmother’s. The two plots sit beneath a large willow tree, now leafless under the grey sky.
I set down the flower box and brush fallen autumn leaves from my grandparents’ grave then lay a plastic carrier bag on the grass in front of my father’s stone and sweep the foliage from him too.
‘Hi, Dad,’ I whisper. ‘I brought you this.’ I nestle the miniature brandy between the flowers and the engraved black marble.
‘It’s a small one. I don’t want you getting into trouble on your cloud.
’ I kneel onto the carrier and rest back on my heels.
‘Four years, six months ago to the day. Can you believe it? I still remember it like it was yesterday. Everything. The sights, the sounds, even the smell. Sometimes, I think I can taste the stench of methane and burning flesh. I can hear the whirring of the chopper coming in to land… I miss you,’ I whisper as I watch a rogue tear fall from my cheek and land on my father’s gravestone.