Just Business (10 page)

‘Niamh, please.'

‘Thank you, Niamh. I know that what I said must have sounded bizarre and, yes, I didn't take my medication that day.
However, the voices I heard were on days when I
had
been taking my medication.'

‘I'm afraid I know very little about schizophrenia,' Niamh said. ‘Does your medication work completely?'

‘Yes, that is why I am worried,' he said, his voice heavy. ‘Also, the voices I heard were Australian voices. The other voices in my head, the ones that occur because of my illness, they are speaking Dutch.'

Niamh laughed before she could stop herself. ‘I'm so sorry, Willem. You'll probably think I'm being insensitive – but you must know how funny that sounded. Australian voices! Dutch voices! All in your head!'

Willem's pale face broke into a smile. ‘Sometimes schizophrenia is as funny as it is tragic. And I like that you laugh with me, Niamh. Most people do it behind my back.'

There was a pause and Niamh drank the last of her cappuccino. She noticed that Willem had barely touched his mineral water.

‘How long have you lived in Australia?' she asked him. She had noticed that his English, although accented, was grammatically perfect.

‘The family moved when I was eighteen. I developed schizophrenia when I started university a year later.' He shrugged. ‘I guess I wasn't able to cope with so many life changes in such a short space of time.'

Niamh would have loved to stay and find out more about Willem but her watch told her that she had a meeting in five minutes.

‘I need to get back …'

They both stood up.

‘Willem, you've made me curious about those Australian
voices. Can you write down what they say the next time you hear them?'

‘I will do that – for you,' he promised.

They shook hands over the table and went in opposite directions. Willem headed for the conventional lifts, Niamh went down the alley. She swiped her access card and pushed in the heavy door. She was out of breath by the time she got to the second level. She needed to get back in shape, do more exercise

When she first met Chris they went to the gym together a few nights a week. But the workouts had fizzled out as he got more and more engrossed with work. Now the only exercise they did was on Saturdays: Niamh walked the full stretch from Queenscliff to Shelly and back, while Chris played eighteen holes of golf.

Which reminded her that another weekend was upon her. Two whole days of skirting around Chris. Of waiting for a softening in the hard, hard set to his face. Of waiting for a gap in the silence so she could talk to him. Two whole days of nothingness.

Tom and Niamh's mother still lived in the family house they had bought a few months after arriving in Sydney. It was a modest, three-bedroom, single-level house, fifteen minutes' walk to the beach. The inside was tired and a little on the dark side, but it was redeemed by the generous, sunny back garden. Tom had put in flowerbeds and benches and even a fish pond. Lemon and orange trees gave both privacy from the neighbours and seasonal fruit. As Niamh came around the side of the house, she remembered the initial awe that she and Aisling had felt when they'd discovered that
real
lemons and oranges were growing in
their own
back garden; yet another thing to highlight how exotic and wonderful Sydney was in comparison to Midleton.

Her mother was reading in the garden, a quiet restful figure unaware of her daughter approaching. Her head, with its black-grey hair, was bent. Hidden were her classically sharp features, flinty blue eyes and the lines etched around
her mouth. The years hadn't been kind, but her face was still arresting, the type of face that rendered two men unable to live without her.

Aisling looked quite like their mother, dark hair and a sharp bone structure. Niamh's blonde hair and coffee eyes came from their dad. Who would Aisling's baby look like? It was hard to tell from the photographs: she had hardly any hair and her eyes seemed to be that dark blue that most babies had. Niamh hoped that she would grow up to look like someone new and unique, someone who didn't have any resemblance to her guilt-ridden grandmother or dead grandfather.

Her mother looked up, finally sensing another presence. Her face softened in a smile. She was a good mother, interested and caring, warm and always there, unquestionably loving. Niamh kissed her cheek which was cool despite the sunny warmth of the garden. She loved her mother in return. She really did. The problem was that she couldn't forgive her.

Denis Greene's booming voice could be heard well before he appeared in the boardroom. He wore a mafia-like black suit and his hair was swept back in its trademark ponytail. He was flanked by two men who also wore dark suits. Niamh guessed the younger man to be Paul Jacobsen. She wondered who the older one was.

Denis introduced his companions before they sat down. ‘This is my lawyer, Paul Jacobsen.' There was a flurry of handshakes and a nod of recognition between Lucinda and Paul. ‘And this is Steve Jones, my barrister.'

Niamh shot a surprised glance at Lucinda, but she was busy greeting the barrister with a peck on the cheek.

‘Hi, Steve. Long time no see.'

Sharon offered the visitors tea or coffee. There were no takers and she took a seat to minute the meeting.

Paul Jacobsen cleared his throat and began to speak. ‘As I said in my letter, I believe that your termination of Denis's employment is unfair conduct –'

‘We've read your letter,' Lucinda cut him off, picking up the fax copy in front of her. ‘Maybe you can explain the basis of your conclusion.'

‘The company has reneged on my client's business visa before its natural expiration date –'

‘We have no obligation to employ your client for the full term of the visa,' Lucinda interrupted the other lawyer for the second time.

‘With all due respect, three and a half years have passed on the visa and any judge in the country would consider it reasonable for my client to expect that the final six months would also pass without incident.' Paul Jacobsen was a short man. The board table dwarfed him but he spoke with confidence. Lucinda's raised eyebrows indicated she was getting ready for another challenge and he forged ahead to prevent it. ‘My client has a pending application for permanent residency and your untimely termination of his employment has placed that application in jeopardy.'

‘Denis never informed us that he was making an independent application for residency,' Lucinda dissented.

‘If you let me finish what I have to say, I will gladly give you the same consideration when you wish to put your side forward,' Paul suggested with a smoothness that glossed over his annoyance at the constant interruptions. ‘Now, back to my client. Denis wishes to remain in Australia. He has cut his ties with the UK and his family has settled well into the Australian
lifestyle. His wife, Lily, loves living here and is distraught at the thought of leaving her close friends … I believe my client's request is a reasonable one. Remember, he isn't asking for money. This is a lifestyle issue not a monetary one.'

‘We have very limited open positions across the company,' said Niamh. ‘Unfortunately Denis is not suitable for any of them.'

Denis burst into the conversation with an aggression that had been waiting to be unleashed. ‘What about the AIZ Bank deal? You'll be recruiting more than twenty people when that contract is renewed in January.'

‘This is
December
. As you said, the contract won't be renewed until January.'

Denis leaned forward in his chair menacingly. ‘It's practically in the bag!'

Niamh refused to be intimidated by him and hardened her voice. ‘We do
not
have a signed contract with AIZ Bank and are
not
in a position to review the roles to see if you would be suitable.
End of discussion
.'

‘Forget AIZ then. What about the other roles you've advertised recently?' Denis wasn't going to concede to a woman. ‘I have a very flexible skill base – I explained this to Malcolm Young –'

‘I'm aware of your email to Malcolm,' Niamh stopped him short. Paul Jacobsen was looking confused so she directed the remainder of her response to him. ‘I would appreciate if you could advise your client not to communicate with the CEO or any other staff member about this matter. All communication should be directed through me.'

Paul nodded, caught off guard. He knew nothing of the email and didn't like surprises.

‘It would also be helpful to this process if your client declined from speaking to journalists,' Niamh continued. Yoshi had specifically asked her to bring up that point. He was paranoid about the current affairs programme and the damage it could do to the company's reputation.

Paul nodded again, fully intending to pull Denis into line after the meeting.

‘Now, I hope we are clear on the fact that there isn't an alternative role that Denis can perform in HDD.' Niamh reiterated her position, meeting the eyes of the three males in turn.

Steve Jones spoke for the first time. ‘Let me suggest an alternative.' He had a deep, educated voice. They listened. ‘Why not keep Denis on your books for six months, until May. Then he can voluntarily resign when his application for residency is approved.'

Denis looked as if he was about to say something but swallowed his words after a glare from his barrister.

Niamh shook her head. ‘As I said, we don't have a role for Denis …'

‘He doesn't need to be in the office – he just needs to be on your payroll.'

‘Are you suggesting we pay him to do nothing?' Lucinda asked with a smile.

‘I guess I am.' Steve returned the smile, having a pleasant recollection of what it had been like with her in the old days.

Niamh didn't see the humour. ‘We've just retrenched ten per cent of our staff to cut costs. Paying someone to do nothing seems very hard to justify.'

‘If this goes to court you will find that six months' pay will barely cover the legal costs.' The older man's voice held a soft threat.

‘That's if you win,' Lucinda was quick to say.

There was a respite in the debate and it gave Niamh time to think.

‘I'm sure the Department of Immigration wouldn't be happy,' she said slowly. ‘Denis would be getting his residency on false pretences and I will not entertain any propositions that involve misleading a government department.'

‘We appreciate that,' Steve Jones said reasonably. ‘Why don't you think over your options? There may be a way to achieve the desired outcome with the department within the boundaries of your corporate ethics.'

The meeting ended and Sharon scribbled furiously as the opposing parties shook hands.

‘What do you think?' Niamh asked Lucinda when the visitors had left.

Lucinda let out a long sigh. ‘We're in an awkward predicament. There's no doubt that we should have given Denis adequate time to consider his options before terminating his employment.'

Niamh nodded, she was beginning to see that now. ‘Don't you think it's time we hired an external lawyer? He has a barrister on his side …'

‘I'm not intimidated by Steve Jones,' Lucinda declared. ‘I've known him a long time.'

‘So, where to from here?'

Lucinda shrugged and began to gather her paperwork. ‘A compromise will be required on our end, and we need to get used to that fact – especially so if we want to limit our costs … I've got to go. I have another meeting – an interview with a secretary.'

‘Hopefully this secretary will be the one!' Niamh smiled
before turning her attention to Sharon who was still writing notes. ‘Did you get everything that was said?'

‘No – there were too many people speaking at once.'

‘I'll check it for you later – I wrote down a few of the important points. Maybe we should tape the next meeting to ensure we have an accurate transcript. Barristers make me nervous!'

Niamh's last comment was tongue-in-cheek but Lucinda, who was on her way out the door, didn't laugh.

Niamh locked away Denis's file in her desk drawer and took out the file on Helen. There was a knock on her door and she looked up with a smile.

‘Hello, Donna. Come in and sit down.'

Donna was in her early twenties. She was pretty and bright and a breath of fresh air after the meeting in the boardroom.

‘Hi, Niamh.'

Niamh got her notepad and pen. Even though she trusted Sharon implicitly, she was still very mindful of Helen's feelings and wanted to keep the number of people involved to an absolute minimum. ‘I've asked you here to talk about Helen and Phil, and a conversation I believe you overheard last October.'

Donna leaned forward, eager to help. ‘Yes. It was late. I was finishing off some month-end work and had my head down. That's why Phil didn't see me. He asked Helen if she wanted to go for a drink with him. I tuned into their conversation straight away – I'm a sucker for company gossip.' She gave a brief grin. ‘He said they could go somewhere quiet. I heard her say no quite clearly. He said he knew she liked him and she should give up the chase. She told him
again
she wasn't interested. I could hear from her voice that she was getting upset so I made my presence known. I stuck my head up and asked her if she
wanted a coffee. His face was a picture!' Her grin was bigger this time. ‘He wasn't sure if I had heard or not and didn't know which one of us to look at. He skulked back to his office pretty fast.'

‘Would you say that Helen encouraged the invitation in any way?' Niamh asked, looking at the young girl carefully.

‘Certainly not!' Donna shook her head vehemently. ‘She was very firm with him and she looked quite upset when I saw her face.'

Niamh had one more question. ‘Do you think he
intended
to offend her?'

‘Sure he did!' The response was unwavering. ‘He was totally insulting when he said she should “give up the chase”. I'd punch him in the face if he said something like that to me.'

‘Okay,' Niamh smiled at her. ‘Thanks for your time, Donna.'

‘I'm glad to help in any way I can. Will it go to court?'

Niamh answered her honestly. ‘I'm hoping that we can resolve it internally.'

‘I saw Steve Jones in the foyer earlier …'

Niamh was surprised that the accounts clerk and the barrister were acquainted. ‘How do you know Steve?'

‘He's my boyfriend's dad.'

‘Steve was here with Denis Greene, nothing to do with Helen.'

Donna pulled a face. ‘Yes, I saw Denis too.'

When she was gone, Niamh checked through her notes, adding a few extra comments. She was getting closer to a recommendation. She had to meet Phil again but she wasn't expecting much from that. Malcolm, and an account of what he had seen, was the main outstanding matter. Niamh's thoughts went back
to her last discussion with the CEO. Malcolm was fighting to prove himself; he could easily see an interview as a slight on his authority and refuse to co-operate. His judgement would also be clouded by Phil being an old mate. She'd have to think carefully about the best way to approach him.

Denis's home phone rang at 9.00 pm, the same time as the night before. The phone calls were annoying Denis and making Lily suspicious.

‘You did well today – bringing up the AIZ renewal got quite a reaction, so I heard. Keep the pressure up – don't let them think you're going to take this lying down.'

‘I'll do as you say, but you're wrong about all this. The more trouble I am, the less likely they are to take me back. Can't you see that?'

‘Denis! Denis!' There was a sigh evident in the voice. ‘You've always been trouble to HDD. Why should you have a personality change now? Today you acted true to character – you were a difficult bastard. Keep that up and let me worry about the overall strategy.'

Denis seriously doubted the caller's ability to strategise. He knew there were some strong personalities in the executive who would fight to the very end rather than take him back. Yet the caller seemed to think it was a decision based solely on money.

‘They're under pressure now.' The caller was practically gleeful. ‘They're worried about what it could cost to settle. Soon they'll be ready to compromise, to take the cheap option and give you your job back.'

‘They talked about another option,' Denis said, remembering how the meeting had concluded. ‘Steve Jones suggested
they put me on the payroll but I wouldn't need to turn up for work – that would be no good for us.'