Claire McNab - Kookaburra Gambit

Then things followed the same routine as such functions everywhere. There was food, there was drink, there was totally forgettable conversation. I suspected some people were covertly checking their watches and wondering when they could get out of there.

During the main course someone, no doubt famous, played the grand piano, although nobody paid much attention. After dessert and coffee, a turn by a comedian who wasn't very funny, and a truly heartfelt plea by a female oncologist who specialized in treating children with cancer, the real business of the evening began: table-hopping.

I'd been watching Ariana-I couldn't help myself-and had noticed she'd been knocking back the champagne. I didn't drink much at the best of times, so I'd just sipped mine, but every time a waiter offered, Ariana had her glass refilled.

Brother Owen asked Alf to change places with me. When I was seated next to him, he leaned over confidentially. "Kylie, you're a lovely young woman."

"Thank you, Brother Owen." I couldn't resist adding, "It's not to my credit. It's God given, as you, of all people, appreciate."

He looked rather taken aback. "Of course it is, Kylie. The Guiding Spirit's hand is in all creation."

"You wanted to see me about something?"

"I don't know what your employment is at the moment, but I believe we can offer you an excellent package."

"You're offering me a job?"

Brother Owen gave me an indulgent smile as he patted my hand. "We don't offer jobs at the Church of Possibilities. We offer callings."

"You're offering me a calling?"

"It just so happens we have a major campaign to reach the twenty-fives to thirty-fives. The Church is searching for people like you to spearhead our outreach program."

Was this bloke serious? "In the first place, I don't belong to your church," I pointed out. "And for all you know, I could be a devil worshiper."

He patted my hand again. "I can look into your spiritual self," he said, "and see the potential there."

"I'm honored you considered me," I said, with just a hint of sarcasm. "But I'm afraid not."

Not at all put out, Brother Owen pressed a business card into my hand. "Call me," he said.

Tami, who'd been sulking on the other side of the table, was sent off on some task by Brother Owen, so I felt safe enough to get up from my seat and move around. During dinner I'd noticed a faint, dark shadow on Chicka's upper lip.

"Are you growing a mustache?"

Chicka grinned. "Always wanted one, but Alf said no. Now it's a new day dawning." He smoothed the almost nonexistent bristles. "What'd you think? Just a little mustache, or one of those droopy ones?"

"Oh, definitely droopy," I said.

Alf was frowning. "It's a tradition to be clean-shaven in the Hartnidge family."

"What about Uncle Dave?" said Chicka. "He had a beard down to his waist."

"That's different. Black sheep don't count."

The Poynters were socializing at another table, and for the moment, Ariana was alone. I went over to sit beside her. She was playing with the gold signet ring she always wore, turning it round and round on her finger. It was so unusual to see her fiddling with anything. I said, "Is it bothering you?"

She looked down at the ring as though she'd never seen it before. "No." Picking up her glass, she took a sip. The subject of the ring was clearly off limits.

"You've had a lot to drink," I said.

"I have."

"Have you got your car here?"

"No. I came with Nanette and her husband."

"I'll drive you home."

"I'll get a cab."

I looked around. People were beginning to leave. "Ariana, come on. I've got my car here. We'll drop off Aunt Millie and I'll drive you to your door."

She hesitated a long moment, then said, "OK. Thank you."

Tami came back as we were leaving the banquet room. She pressed a business card into my hand. "Call me."

Ariana had said her good nights to the Poynters and walked silently beside me. Aunt Millie bustled along on the other side. A full moon floated in the sky. It seemed an omen.

When my car was brought up, Aunt Millie got in the front and Ariana slid into the backseat. My aunt, who'd obviously enjoyed herself hugely, chatted about the evening. Ariana and I were quiet.

At the hotel, I saw Aunt Millie to her room. As I opened the door, she said, "What's your relationship with Ariana Creeling?"

"We're business partners."

"That's all?"

"Yes, aunt, that's all."

"She watches you."

I stared at her. "What?"

"I noticed how she kept glancing your way tonight. Are you sure the woman isn't keen on you?"

I felt a thrill tingle in my stomach, but I said calmly, "I'm sure, Aunt Millie."

As I walked back to the car, my heart was fluttering. Ariana had moved to the front passenger seat and was staring blankly out the windscreen.

We drove for a while in silence, then she gave a rueful little laugh. "I don't usually have this much to drink. It was stupid of me."

"French champers is hard to resist."

She glanced across at me. "I noticed you didn't drink much."

"It's from working in a pub. It's like being in a chocolate factory. It's everywhere, and you lose interest."

The winding, narrow streets of the Hollywood Hills no longer confused me. Her house was perched on a cliff, overlooking the city. I drove into the area at the back, parked the car, and turned off the engine.

"Thank you," she said, opening her door.

"I'm coming in."

She paused. "There's no need."

"I want to."

Everything hung on one moment of decision. Ariana said, "Gussie will bark, until she recognizes you." Gussie was her gorgeous German shepherd.

Oh, God, I thought, looking at the back of Ariana's neck as she opened the door, I want to hold you.

Gussie, once she'd checked me out, was delighted to greet Ariana. She was a beautiful dog, bright and intelligent and handsome, as only a German shepherd can be.

"Shall I take Gussie outside for a few moments? She's been locked in all evening."

She nodded. "Thank you."

When Gussie and I returned, Ariana was just coming out of the bathroom. Her hair was down and she'd washed the makeup off her face. She looked younger, and less formidable, although that might have been a trick of the light.

"Do you want coffee?" I asked.

"I simply want to go to bed."

"So do I."

Ariana looked at me for what seemed a long time. "Kylie, I don't think…" She made a helpless gesture, the first I'd ever seen her make.

I seemed to move through water. It was such a long way to her. And she watched me with her blue, blue eyes. When she shut them, it was as if a light had gone out.

I reached her, halted, thought my heart would burst, thought she'd reject me at this last moment.

But she didn't. I slid into her arms. We kissed, slowly, quite tenderly. I could taste her toothpaste.

I thought then she might draw back, say this was a bad idea, but Ariana was committed, it seemed. She took my trembling fingers and led me into her bedroom.

I'd never seen her bedroom before-I barely saw it now. I was just conscious of wide windows looking out to the lights of Los Angeles spread far below.

We undressed, me with fingers made clumsy with haste, Ariana with assurance, slipping off her clothes with economical grace. Was that how she'd make love? Coolly, competently, never quite involved? I'd take her any way she came. Whatever she wanted to do, I'd do.

Her body was slim and strong and took the breath from me. I watched in a dream as she removed her signet ring and her sapphire earrings and put them in the drawer of the bedside table. Then she flicked off the light. Moonlight flooded the room.

I intended to be gentle, to coax her body into willingness, but it was as though she flipped a switch and in one moment removed all restraint. She was desperate, ravenous, so unlike the Ariana I thought I knew that I was startled, almost shocked.