Catier's strike (8 page)

`Remember what I told you about the 'C' factor?' he asked thinly. 'It wasn't a tale I told you to keep your journalistic instincts on the boil. It really exists, and apart from you, and me, and the head of my department, no one else knows it's been found, and that's the way it's staying, for the time being, anyway. So I should forget about bringing in the law,' he added meaningly, `if you know what's good for you.'

Sarah stared at him. 'You deliberately gave me that information, didn't you?' she accused him angrily, fighting down an overwhelming desire to fling herself at him and pummel her fists hard on that solid-looking chest of his, if only to relieve her feelings.

He shrugged, and pushed away his bare plate. His appetite, it appeared, was not a bit impaired, she noticed sourly. 'It's not often I make a mistake,' he said grandly, 'but I guess you riled me into breaking a cardinal rule.'

Sarah looked away from him, unable to bear the mocking light in his blue eyes. It had been no mistake. She knew it, and he knew it!

She forced herself to stay calm and took a deep breath. 'If I gave you my solemn promise that I wouldn't divulge a word of what I'd learnt—' she began, but was stopped in mid-sentence by Sean's slow shake of his head.

`No dice,' he said abruptly. 'I couldn't risk it.' His answer was flat and very definite.

Sarah's lovely eyes met his cold ones. 'Because of Don, that's why, isn't it?' she said quietly.

Did it ever occur to you that it could have been an accident?' she went on, determined to put her point of view to him.

His cold eyes continued to stare back at her, and Sarah's heart plummeted to an all-time low. He didn't believe her because he didn't want to believe her. It was as simple as that.

`If his death was an accident, then so was his grandmother's,' he said harshly. 'She worshipped Don. She didn't live much over a month after his death. Okay, so he liked his drink, but the same could be said for many men. He fell for you like a ton of bricks. You used him, didn't you? Your small county rag depended on the advertising revenue, and he did you proud, didn't he?' At Sarah's shocked look, he nodded grimly. 'Oh, yes, I was able to pick up that much, although the trail was cold by the time I got on to the scene. You were headed for the big time, weren't you? You were offered a post on one of the city papers, and you took it, without a backward glance at the man who loved you.'

Sarah's head spun. She hadn't known that Don had a grandmother. He had never mentioned her, but then he hadn't told her that he was related to Sean Cartier, either. It was true that she had been offered a post on the Daily the day after Don's death, and she had taken it, seeing it as an escape from her unhappiness. He had the facts right, but in the wrong order. She could have made an attempt to put the record straight, but he was in no mood to listen to her. He was determined to punish her, not only for Don's death, but his grandmother's, too.

`If you've finished,' he said harshly. 'You can get back to your quarters. I think I've had enough of your company for one day.'

Sarah needed no second bidding; she was out of her chair, and on her way, almost before he had finished the sentence.

Back in the quietness of her room, she gradually calmed down. Her situation had been bad enough before, but now She closed her eyes and shook her head.

She had been living in cloud cuckoo land, it seemed, when she thought that all she had to do was to walk off the site at the first given opportunity. She had never considered the possibility of finding herself on the wrong side of the law.

All Sean Cartier had to do was to alert the authorities. He'd do it, too, Sarah knew for certain. He could say that he had caught her snooping and considered that she was a security risk. She drew in a deep breath. The worst of it was, that the whole affair would be put under wraps. It would be her word against his, and she wouldn't stand a chance of proving her innocence.

It was detention here, or elsewhere, she thought, until the news was released, and goodness knew when that would be. Under the circumstances, she supposed she was lucky that she had a choice, she thought bitterly, that was the way that Sean Cartier would see it.

He could have had her sent away, but that wasn't in the scheme of things. She was to be his diversion while the site operations were closed

down. In a few weeks the workforce would take off, leaving only a skeleton maintenance crew on site. Whether Mrs Pullman stayed on, Sarah had no idea, but thought not. The same could be said of Sean Cartier. If there was only paperwork to do, surely there was nothing to stop him going back to headquarters. A man of his standing in his profession would not be expected to hang around once the drilling operations ceased, and would not begin again for at least four months.

At this thought, Sarah shuddered. She couldn't imagine four months' detention in Sean Cartier's company. She was beginning to see now what he'd meant when he said that she would beg him to marry her. Four months was a long time. You couldn't go on hating someone—at least, not all the time. Not when they were the only contact you had with the outside world day in and day out. Some relationship or reliance was bound to result, and as he held all the cards, it was plain to see who would be relying on whom!

The fact that he hated her so much gave Sarah some consolation. He was not likely to force his attentions on her. The way he had looked at her as he spoke about Don's grandmother's death, told of his feelings. She could have been a rattlesnake, and one didn't take a rattlesnake to bed, so she could at least be grateful for that.

In one sense, it gave her a hold over him. Should he attempt any physical contact with her, she now knew how to handle it. All she had to do was to mention Don's name or his grandmother. Sarah closed her eyes. She wished that there was some other way, but she had no choice. She was

fighting for her survival, but even so, things would have to get pretty bad before she used such despicable tactics.

A tap on her door brought her out of her musings with a jerk. Her first thought was that it was Sean Cartier, and she could think of no reason why he had followed her to her room, other than what she had had in mind only a few seconds ago, and swallowed convulsively before going to the door. She automatically straightened her slim shoulders. She knew what to do, didn't she? she told herself stoutly, as she opened the door.

It came as somewhat of an anti-climax to find Sandy outside the door with a tray of coffee in her hands. 'Mr Cartier's compliments,' she said, in the tone of voice that would have gone well with a wink, and handing the tray to Sarah, was off before Sarah could thank her.

The aroma of coffee drifted up to Sarah's bemused senses, as she stared at the tray in her hands. Her quick almost headlong dash from Sean's company, had happened before the coffee arrived, but why on earth had he bothered to send hers over? Was he now feeling sorry for her? she wondered. Then she shook her head. She didn't believe that for one moment. It was a way of confusing her, she was sure. He had said that she would never know where she stood with him.

Sarah grimaced as she carried the tray over to the small table that had served as Martha's makeshift dressing table, now mercifully free of the lotions that had littered the top. There were many things that she did not know, but one thing

that she did know, and that was how Sean Cartier really felt about her.

The coffee was as good as it smelt, and Sarah enjoyed it. While she sipped her second cup, her thoughts roamed on. There had been one item of news in the short, uncomfortable dinner with Sean, that had given her spirits a lift. He was going to Darwin. He hadn't said when, or for how long, but it would give Sarah a welcome breathing space.

Perhaps she could make her bid for freedom then? But as soon as the thought was there, so was Sean's harsh statement of her being a security risk. It had been different before, for she had only envisaged causing him a few bad moments, a blow to his pride. The fly had got away.

He must know that she would never risk falling foul of the law. She drew in a deep breath. Whether he knew it or not. It wouldn't make any difference. All he had to do was to put a call out, and she would find herself on the wanted list.

It wouldn't matter to him one scrap what happened to her. One way or the other she was going to pay for what had happened to Don.

As Sean Cartier couldn't risk taking her to Darwin, so Sarah couldn't risk a breakout. Things were bad enough as it was, but at least her troubles were confined here, and if she was lucky, she would be packed off back to civilisation as soon as the news of the find was released.

So far, she thought, not too much damage had been done. If she played things coolly, when it

was over, she would ask for her job back. The `engagement' had been broken, she would tell Eddie. A mistake on both sides. Her firm lips twisted ironically on this thought. No need to go into details, she told herself. Her freedom would make up for all else—that, and the chance to get back to work. She didn't even care that her fine plans to sue Sean Cartier had gone up in smoke. She didn't want his money, or anything to do with him.

She let out a long ragged breath. She just wanted out.

As nothing had been said about her taking any other meal with Sean, Sarah expected to take breakfast either in the canteen or in Mrs Pullman's kitchen, where Mrs Pullman and Sandy took their meals in between their work.

When she had awoken that morning, she had found herself ravenously hungry, and was looking forward to a visit to the canteen. Having spent the evening in her small room, she was in need of company; the only company she didn't need was that of Sean Cartier's.

She was in the act of leaving her room when she met Sandy carrying a tray. 'There's no need to bring anything over for me, Sandy. I was just coming to the canteen,' Sarah said, hoping her annoyance did not show in her voice. It was nice of Mrs Pullman to have thought about her.

Sandy grinned. 'No trouble,' she said brightly. `Mr Cartier thought you might like some privacy. You're doing some work for him, aren't you?' she said. 'Aunt moaned a bit about it, but what Mr Cartier says goes, but it's a good job and she daren't upset him,' Sandy added confidentially.

Sarah thought if she heard the name of Cartier again, she would scream. However, she managed to hold her feelings in check. It wasn't Sandy's fault, after all, and no good would come of it if Sarah refused to accept his dictates.

Sarah took the tray from Sandy, who followed her into the room and collected the previous evening's coffee tray.

`Do you stay on during the wet?' Sarah asked her, seeing a chance to gain a little information from somewhere.

Sandy shook her head. 'I don't,' she said. `Usually Aunt has a few months off, but she's not sure what's happening this time. Most of the men will have gone at the start, and there'll only be a few on site.' She frowned. 'Aunt said for security reasons,' she put her hand to her mouth. 'Oh dear, I'm not supposed to talk about that sort of thing.' Then she smiled at Sarah. 'Still, it's all right to talk to you, isn't it? You're one of us.'

Sarah was only too grateful for the fact that Sean Cartier was not in hearing distance of this remark from Sandy, but it was nice to know that someone trusted her.

Mrs Pullman might have moaned about having to supply an extra tray of food, one more, that was from the boss's needs, but she had not stinted on Sarah's breakfast, and being hungry, Sarah did full justice to the meal.

As she had left, Sandy had said that she would be bringing Sarah's lunch around midday, and would collect the breakfast tray at the same time, so there was no need for Sarah to take the tray back when she had finished.

No excuse, either, for her to be wandering around the site, Sarah thought angrily. That was clever Mr Cartier's doing, too, no doubt!

At this point Sean's voice came over the intercom. 'I shall be over in fifteen minutes. I

trust you've finished your breakfast, and are ready for work.'

Sarah made a face in the direction of the loudspeaker, and gave a mock salute. 'All present and correct, sir,' she said, as she finished the last of her coffee, and re-stacked the tray with the used plates.

Well before the fifteen minutes were up, Sarah was in the next room where a typewriter had been set up for her use, and the file Sean had given her on the table next to it.

Home from home, she thought, as her eyes rested on stacks of paper for typing, and wondered if she was expected to use it all.

The sight of the typewriter brought back memories she could have done without. In her mind's eye she visualised the pandemonium that would be going on in the Daily's offices. At least, it always looked like pandemonium, but in spite of the feverish activity, everyone knew what they were doing. They also knew that they were up against a time limit.

It was as well for Sarah that Sean made his autocratic entry at that point, because Sarah's stiff upper lip was about to lose its rigidity, and in another moment she would have given herself the luxury of a few tears.

`You had a look at the file?' demanded Sean, as he came into the room.

Sarah nodded but did not trust herself to say anything.

`Good. It's quite straightforward. Just copy what I've written down, and don't mix the sheets up, because I didn't always number them. It