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P e t e r T. K n o w l e s

ARMS AND THE LADY

The Author was born on a sheep station in the Pillbra of North West Australia. At 18 years of age he joined R.A.N. and served 3 years, later joining the Australian Army, and served 4 years. Peter married Thelma at the age of 30. They went on to raise four marvellous children. The Authors main occupation was long distance driving, e.g. Perth to Melbourne, Sydney and return.

Copyright Peter T. Knowles The right of Peter T. Knowles to be identified as author of this work has been asserted by him in accordance with section 77 and 78 of the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988. All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without the prior permission of the publishers. Any person who commits any unauthorized act in relation to this publication may be liable to criminal prosecution and civil claims for damages. A CIP catalogue record for this title is available from the British Library. ISBN 978 184963 376 5 www.austinmacauley.com First Published (2013) Austin Macauley Publishers Ltd. 25 Canada Square Canary Wharf London E14 5LB

Chapter 1
She opened the file and glanced at the covering letter that had arrived with the M/S all those months ago. Dear Sir or Madam, read the salutation and she turned the page to scan her reply. Dear Mr. Mainwaringpretty formal stuff, back then. The working title, Dusty Flowers, stared up at her in bold, red, letters. Ainslie James spun her swivel chair to take in the view from the window overlooking the magical scene that was Sydney Harbour. Once again she read the letter that had arrived in the morning mail. It started out, Dear Lee! The title on the office door read, Ainslie James: Junior Editor. She was the youngest of the four junior editors employed by the publishing house of Allen and Jelsinsky, A&J in the trade, and counted herself a very fortunate young lady. From trainee journalist to editor, even junior grade, in ten years was a fast-track career path and she knew it. Once again she blessed the day Joseph J. Epping, the craggy-faced features editor of the Metropolitan Tribune, had accepted her H.S.C. and single page C.V. and gruffly put her on staff. The sparkling scene from her fifth floor window dimmed, as wispy clouds drifted across the huge arc of the sky. Lee swung her chair back to the desk. No time for daydreaming, she told herself; Mike was arriving from Goulburn tonight and it was her job to make sure the accommodation she had arranged for him was correctly booked and that he was expected. An hour sped swiftly by while Lee checked the rest of the mail and handled the morning routine of her office. Mikes file was soon the only one not in her out tray and once again, she picked it up. I wonder what he looks like, she mused for the umpteenth time. Lee had been so impressed with this first-time novelists work that she had taken a great deal more time over
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it than was usual and as a consequence, had invented a persona to which she could relate. His letters had not given much detail about himself, just that he lived on a small property west of Goulburn, and that the locale of the novel was drawn on the town and the surrounding countryside. He sounds kind of serious, she said to herself as she saw in her minds eye a tall country gentleman in the mould of an English squire; midforties, horn-rimmed glasses, light brown hair, parted and combed back. Of course he would be dressed in corduroy jodhpurs, with polished black riding boots and a tweed shooting jacket. And devilishly handsomeof course! Ainslie James, youre a twit, she admonished herself. Hes probably fifty, fat, bald and a proper dorkbut he must have something going for him to be able to produce such powerful emotion and imagery in his writing. Once more unto the task, dear friends, once more, she misquoted aloud to the bunch of marigolds in a vase on the corner of her desk. Into the out tray went Dusty Flowers, and Lee busied herself with the more prosaic duties of a junior editor. Anyone for lunch? A thatch of curly red hair above a pixie face poked around the office door. Lee glanced at her wall clock. Twelve-thirty already and still a heap of work to do. Thatll teach you to daydream, she told herself. Coming now, Jen! Lee said and grabbing her shoulderbag followed her friend and fellow junior editor, Jennifer Greg, down the hall to the elevators. Out in the street the sun was shining warmly again as the two girls headed for a nearby lunch bar. They made a striking couple and most of the male heads turned for a second glance. One, pert, petite, and redheaded, the other, tall, slim and fair, both swinging along with easy stride and wide smiles. At the lunch bar, Jennifer made for a vacant table, while Lee picked up salads and fruit juice and joined her. Whats new with the great Australian novel? Jenny teased her companion; Lee had waxed lyrical about Mikes work on more than one occasion.
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Whats new, you knocker, is that Mr. Michael Mainwaring is arriving in Sydney this evening! Lee replied, emphasising the point with her knife. Hey, thats great! Now at last Ill be able to see what Mr. Mysterious looks like. Ill bet hes a dog. Maybe, maybebut what if hes not? What if he turns out to be tall, dark, and handsome? Then the Shark will swallow him whole. The banter had died from Jennys voice as she mentioned the Shark, the private name the two friends had for Mrs. Gillian SaxeCrosslanda noted man-eater and Lees senior editor. Senior editors at A&Js were employed, officially, to supervise the junior editors and handle the MSs of the more important writers in the A&J stable. In the case of Saxe-Crossland however, her value lay in her name. She was a well-connected socialite and could make sure her authors were seen in all the right places. She considered her job was to sign the contract, promote the author socially and get her name in the credits as editor. The real work was left to the likes of Lee and Jenny. Mrs. GS.C wouldnt touch an author until he had at least two successful books on the standsunless, of course, he was tall, dark and handsome. You know Lee, I really feel for you. The sympathy in Jennys eyes was carried in her voice. Thank God Ive got old George. He might be a bit of an old woman but at least he does his share of the work. Yes, said Lee. You are luckybut then, perhaps, so am I. Gillian doesnt interfere with my workin fact, Im not sure she knows Im there most of the time. The afternoon passed quickly for Lee. Most of it was taken up with a quick recap of Mike Mainwarings M/S and a careful perusal of the latest alterations she had suggested. Excitement filled her and she wondered why? Why should I get so worked up over a man Ive never met, she asked herself. He may turn out to be like that guy who wrote A Soldiers War. He was quite presentable, physically; he was also one of the most boring men Ive ever met.
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Give yourself a break girl, she chided herself, tomorrow all will be revealed. The comfortable townhouse Lee called home was tucked away in a quiet street in Rose Bay, a leafy, up-market suburb just a pleasant tram ride from her city office. Two bedrooms and an en-suite above the kitchen and living area, a minuscule backyard and a sunny upstairs balcony opening off the main bedroom; an easy-care home for a busy working girl. Lee checked the letterbox as she entered the small forecourt; no mailno bills eitherno news is good news, she mused, as she keyed open the front door. The answering machine on the kitchen bench blinked at her but there was no message on the tape. Oh well, she thought, if it was important theyd ring again. She checked the time: six-twenty. Mike should be in the city about now. A shiver of excitement went through her and she had to chide herself yet again that she was building castles in the air. Wishful thinking?she let that thought hang on the periphery of her mind while she prepared her dinner, then headed for the shower while it cooked. Later, curled up on the sofa, coffee in hand and Kenny G. on the stereo, she brought that thought out to examine it. Was her preoccupation with Michael Mainwaring really her subconscious reminding her that her biological clock was inexorably marking the passage of her days? That today, at twenty-seven years of age, a man, a home, and a family were just as remote as they were at seventeen? Quite possibly. But did she really need, or want, those icons of domesticity? Wasnt her career sufficient to satisfy her needs? Well!lets just turn that around. Was she using her career as an excuse, a reason not to consider the serious lack of male companionship over the last several years?steady there, girl!...thats getting pretty deep! Restless with the depressing scenario she was writing for herself, Lee rose from the sofa and paced the room, not wanting to accept the possibility that there may have been more than a little truth in her musings. Catching a reflection of herself in a wall mirror brought another thought to
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mindwhat do I have to offer a man anyway? She knew she was not vain but she had always tried to make the best of what she had. That, she believed, was personal pride, not vanity. Lee moved quickly to the stairs and ran up them to her bedroom, a room that was feminine without being fussy. Builtin robes, featuring full length interior mirror doors reached across half of one wall, the other half taken up by French windows opening onto the small balcony. Drawing the heavy drapes with care, Lee opened the wardrobe doors and faced the tall mirrors. She slowly slipped the robe from her shoulders and told her image to step over beside her and consider what it saw with the eyes of a man. His eyes carefully inspected the reflection in the mirror and were satisfied with the view; long shapely legs supported the sensual curve of the hips and the trim waist. Firm, full breasts sloped upwards to smooth, sloping shoulders and a tall, slim neck. Light brown hair, just short of auburn and reflecting golden highlights, hung in a shining cascade to the shoulders, framing an interesting face. Interesting? Yes, interesting, said his eyes. Not capital B beautiful, and certainly not plainbut interesting! The face was a trifle long but the high cheekbones set it off; the mouth was a bit too widebut it smiled easily and often. The best feature, his eyes decided, was the luminous, grey eyes, tilted upwards at the corners and fringed with long, curling lashes. His eyes returned to Lees imaginationI wonder what colour Mike Mainwarings eyes are, she thought, as she considered her reflection. Her fair complexion was accentuated by the light all-over tan that she managed to preserve, thanks to the afternoon sun on her balcony, and, taken as a package, the physical Lee James should appeal to a goodly number of red-blooded young males. So what was the problem? Lee sighed as she closed the wardrobe and wrapped herself once more in her robe. It was not as if she had no male friends; in fact there were a number of men with whom she was very friendlyshe was also very friendly with their wives. She took their matchmaking in good part, and while on occasion there had been sparks, no fires of passion had sprung from them.
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She sighed, as she slipped beneath the covers of the comfortable but lonely bed.

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Chapter 2
Miss James! A Mr. Mainwaring to see you. Lee could hear the awe in the receptionists voiceeven over the phone. Send him in, please, Karen. She had been expecting this visitor of course and after her girl-to-girl talk to herself last night, had decided that Mr. Mainwarings looks, good or otherwise, were not going to interfere with her work today. So, she thought, why on earth do I feel like a teenager on her first date? The door opened to admit a manand for Lee, time stood still while her mind tried to take in just what her eyes were telling her. This was no prissy English squire; this was a MAN! Big bold and oh, so handsome. Very tall and broad of shoulder, he almost completely filled the doorway as he entered; a countrymans hat in one hand and a leather briefcase in the other. Ainslie James! It came as a statement rather than a question, in a voice that raised the hairs along the nape of her neck. A strong baritone, it carried the ring of unconscious authority and perfectly matched the upright, almost military bearing. Three long, fluid strides brought him to the front of her desk. Lee rose automatically and extended a slim hand, astounded at its steadiness. Her years of experience as a journalist kicked in and she was glad to hear how calm her voice was as she smiled a greeting. Michael Mainwaring! Its so nice to meet you at last. Well you got that right, she told herself. Ive been waiting to meet you for more years than I care to think about. Please; take a seat. Would you like coffee? Well done, she congratulated herselfits almost as if he was just another author, instead of the most incredible man youve ever met! Hold on there, a small voice warned, you dont know anything about him yet.
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Thanks. White with one sugar. Oooh! Whats to know! Those brown eyes, that wide smile and that strong jaw-line. Still, the small voice argued; you know you cant judge a book by its cover. Karen, would you organise coffee please. White with one for Mr. Mainwaring. Youre right, of course, she told her small voice, as her emotions began to settle. She decided it was time to exercise direct control. Im Lee! May I call you Michael? Id prefer Mike. So, Mike . How was the trip? Banalitieswaiting for the coffee. He surprised her. An excellent trip; in fact I took time to look at the countryside. I mean really lookstop and smell the roses, so to speak. The arrival of an office girl with the coffee saved her from having to respond to that. Over the coffee, the formal atmosphere became more relaxed and Lee was able to study her companion. She had taken note of his size as he had come through the door; more like a rugby forward than the author of a sensitive first novelor rather, what she thought the author of that novel should be like, she corrected herself. The curly, dark hair, cut short and neatly styled, added to the aura of masculinity that he wore like a garment. However it was the eyes that drew her thoughts back to what he was, rather than what she wished him to be. A shade of brown that she had never seen beforeor at least, never noticedthey had a quality of sensitivity,which was rapidly turning to twinkling humour, as though he could read the thoughts tumbling around in her mind. Why the smile? Lee asked. Mikes smile widened as he lounged back in his chair. Oh! Just happy to meet you at last! Hes seeing me as another gawking female bowled over by his good looks, she chided herself; pull yourself together girl, gawking will get you nowhere. Okay! Well, I guess we can now dispense with the social chit-chat and get down to work. Lees voice and attitude were
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now all business as she replaced her cup and pulled her chair forward. Glancing up, she was gratified to note the arrogant humour was beginning to fade from the eyes; to be replaced, firstly, by, a puzzlement and then, a well if thats how you want it look. Thats not how I want it, she argued with herselfif this was a bedroom Id be putty in his handsoooh, now thats an interesting thoughtStop it, James! This is an office and theres work to be done. Yes, Sir! Mike responded, with a mock salute and a spreading grin. Dammit, thought Lee, as her heart flip-flopped; he cant read my mindcan he? I take it you endorse the changes I mentioned in my last letter? she said. Mike nodded agreement. Then Im happy to say that Flowers is ready to be sent to the printer. Mikes grin faded, to be replaced by an expression of great seriousness. Lee, he said, you cant possibly know just how much that means to me. Its more than just getting a book published, though thats great in itself, you understand, its just. Lee was not to hear just what it was, for at that moment the door swung open and her senior editor, Mrs. Gillian Saxe-Crossland, sailed inOf course, Gillian! Come in, Gillian! Drop dead, Gillian! Lee fumed inwardly. How like the Shark; never comes near me for days on end, then she turns up according to Murphys Lawor does she scent another victim; was Jenny right after all? Am I interrupting something? the newcomer inquired. Lee didnt answer, but instead, rose to make the necessary introductions. Gillian, this is Mr. Michael Mainwaring, author of Dusty Flowers and turning to Mike, Ms SaxeCrossland. Gillian stretched forth a delicately manicured hand, to be swallowed by Mikes much larger one, and their eyes met and lingered for a moment. Well! I am pleased to meet you. I had no idea youd be in the office today. Gillian cast a reproving glance in Lees direction before continuing, Ive read your book, of course, and to Lee, Tell me Lee, what is the current status of Michaels manuscript?
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You are a liar and a witch, Lee inwardly fumedbut so bloody smooth and so disgustingly beautiful. Yes, dammit, Im as jealous as hell. Its ready for the printer, Lee acknowledged, with barely controlled hostility. Oh good. Ill take the file now, Gillian replied, holding out her hand imperiously toward Lee and then, turning to Mike and favouring him with a dazzling smile, Come with me Michael and well get your contract and promotional itinerary sorted out. The interplay of emotions and the antagonism between the two women was not lost on Michael. He had found the girl behind the desk strangely attractive; far more so than her obvious beauty and charm would indicatebut the other one; well, that was something else. He knew he had been manipulated away from Lee, whom he realised could do nothing about it. He sympathised with her obvious frustration but decided to go with the flow and see where it was headed. The dark one, Gillian, wasnt it? - was smugly confident now and the vibes he had received told him she had more on her mind than just the contract. It could be fun finding out just what she had meant regarding his promotional itinerary. Gillian swept out of the office in the same manner as she had swept in, leaving Mike little option but to follow. As he turned to close the door he caught sight of Lees face and saw in it the depth of attraction and sense of loss that mirrored his own feelings. With a mock salute and a lopsided grin, he closed the door. Mike could see Gillian waiting by the open doors of an elevator and he sensed her impatience. He strolled casually down the corridor and entered the lift, leaving her to close the doors and punch in the floor. As the lift rose he took the opportunity to appraise more carefully the woman before him. She was of medium height and darkly beautiful, her short and shining hair brushed back to form feathery wings surrounding dramatic features. Dark, lustrous eyes enhanced her classic beauty and as they met his gaze Mike was stunned by the naked lust they displayed. As a man of some worldly
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experience, he realised that this woman could be dangerous if her desires were thwarted. They stepped from the lift and Gillian led the way to her office, ushering Mike through the door and closing it behind her. She waved him to a chair and dropped the file on the large executive desk. Mike noted that there were no signs of unfinished work to mar its shining surface and judged it to be merely a showpiece. Turning his head he watched Gillian open a cabinet and reach for glasses and a decanter. Youre a straight whiskey man, she stated. Am I right? With a small dash, yes, and thanks. He didnt need a drink but she was leading the game. Gillian handed him the drink and then seated herself in her large chair, her drink in one hand, leaning back with an arm draped provocatively on the backrest, drawing the white sheath dress tight across her breasts. Mike raised his glass and deliberately lowered his eyes to the view he was offered. Heres to temperance, he said with a slight smile. Down with prohibition, she quipped back. About the contract Mike began. Gillian cut him short. Dont worry about that now, she said. Lets talk about you. Im sure Ill find that much more interesting. If Im to promote you I must have some background to work on, you know. Gillian rose from her chair like a predatory cat. All right, where would you like me to start? Mike was twisting in his chair as his eyes followed Gillian, who, with a restless gesture, was now pacing behind him. Look Michael, why dont I take you to lunch? We could talk much better in a less formal atmosphere. Lee sat at her desk, staring at the office door, long after it had closed on her dream. Damn Gillian, she thought, she can scent a man from half a mileand what a man! How I wish I could get to know him better. Not much chance of that now though, now that the Shark had got her teeth into himGod! Cant men see her for what she is?But maybe they can; maybe that suits them; just a quick affair and no loose ends. Goodbye and good luck. Damn! Damn! Damn!
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Mikes M/S could not go to the printer until the contract was signed, so Lee put aside all thought of it with a sigh of regret and picked up another bulky envelope. Swinging her chair about to take in her favourite view, she commenced to read. However, the words soon blurred in welling tears as feelings of desperate loss swept over her. Lee dropped the M/S back on the desk. How can you lose something you never had, she thought, gazing once more at the sunlit harbour.

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Chapter 3
The day had been a real eye-opener, Mike conceded to himself. A day he had looked forward to for so long; the day his book was to start its journey into print. It had started out well enough; Lee James had been everything and more than he had led himself to believe. He had expected a pleasant person from the tone of her letters; the last couple had been quite chatty, but he was not prepared for the radiant young woman, who had risen to meet him as he entered her office. What did I expect, he asked himself. A trim, middle-aged career woman, I guess. Helpful, motherly even; certainly not the living, breathing excitement that was the real Lee Jamesno wedding ring, so she probably wasnt married.And what was it I saw in her eyes when we shook hands? Did the meeting affect her the way it did me? We were just settling down when this damned woman walked in. I should have taken a stand earlier, he berated himselflike when she interrupted that tete-a-tete with MY editoror when she suggested lunch; at eleven oclock. As they left the lift in the foyer and headed for the street, he agreed with himself that it was too late for those options. Gillians choice of a lunching place surprised him. It was a trendy, up-market coffee shop; intimate booths and small tables, obsequious waiters, hovering close, to do madams bidding. Not the sort of place he would have chosen to discuss business, except perhaps the sort of business Gillian wanted to discuss. Gillian ordered a Caesar salad, while Mike made do with a club sandwich and black coffee. They made small-talk until the ordering and eating was finished and then Gillian got down to business. Michael! she said. My job is to promote your book; what was the name of it again? Of course, thank you; Dusty
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Flowers. Now, to do this I have to promote you. You have to be seen in the right places and speak to the right people. Ill arrange a launch at one of our better distributors where youll sign copies, press flesh and kiss old ladies on the cheek. Ill get reviews, favourable ones, in the Wait a minute. Mike interjected, How can you be sure they will be favourable? Trust me! Quid pro quo? Something like that, said Gillian, smiling archly and Mike did not pursue the subject. Gillian had unobtrusively slipped around the booth and was now sitting next to him. Her dark beauty was pressed close to him and a subtle perfume raised his blood pressure, along with his manhood. Tell me about yourself now. She cooed. At that point Mike found it hard to concentrate on the conversation, even though he apparently held up his end of it. Gillians bare toes were massaging his calf in a most suggestive way while her hand strayed even further across his thigh. I wonder how far she is prepared to go, he thought, and got a quick answer as she reached for the top of his zipper. Mike stood hastily and mumbling an excuse, headed quickly for the mens room. Leaning his sweating forehead against the cool tiles, he waited for his breathing to slow. Bloody hell! She was trying to seduce me! Right there at the table! Whats with that woman anyway? Lord help me if she forces me into a dinner date! As Mike returned to the booth he noticed that Gillian had moved once more to her side of the table; a subtle admission that she had gone too far, too fast. Mike wondered how he could avoid that inevitable dinner engagement without being positively rude. The conversation resumed along strictly business lines and it soon became clear to Mike that Gillian was not interested in the mechanics of editing his novel but in the promotion and seduction of its author. At least Ill get to see Lee James again, he thought, so perhaps something good may come of this episode.
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It was as they were leaving the bistro that Gillian made her move. What are your plans for this afternoon? she asked, with a proprietorial air. Mike had anticipated this question and had decided on a visit to his club. Which club is that? asked Gillian. The Army Club. Oh! I thought that was restricted to Army officers. It is. Gillian was quiet and thoughtful as they left the premises and were once again in the warm spring sunshine. She took his arm possessively and looked up into his face, her dark eyes reflecting ingenuous innocenceand Mikes mental guard came up. Watch your step boyo; here it comes! You know, Mike, the level of success of a particular book doesnt really depend on the authors ability. It has to be worth printing and be saleable of course but the level of those sales depends on how the book, and the author, is promoted. Uh-huh, Mike grunted, warily. Of course, well have to come to some agreement about these matters before I can offer you a contract She let it hang there, watching him, waitingWell, there you have it; come across or else! Talk about role reversal! I know Im not usually one to turn it down when its offered like this...but I dont like the sound of the threatso to hell with it! But I thought Miss James and I had an agreement about that? Oh no. Im sorry if you got that impression. Lee James is quite a capable editor but she hasnt the business talent to handle this sort of work. Certainly not the way you do, thought Mike, and more power to Lee for that. Glancing down at her Mike noticed the slight smile on Gillians full lips. Shes convinced shes got her message across, he thoughtand she hasits loud and clear. By the way, when youre through at the club, why dont you pick me up about eight, for dinner? Mike looked into her eyes and knew the implied threat was real. Play along or that book will never see printso be it, he
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thoughtwell, my Black Beauty, you just may be riding for a fall! Im sorry Gillian but I have a previous engagement. Break it! she said, her voice and her eyes hardening. No way! Mike spoke softly but his voice carried absolute finality. So, it was to be open warfare and Mike knew he had drawn first blood. Acknowledging her defeat, eyes blazing, she swung around to face him. Ill make sure you regret that! she spat. They parted on the street corner, Gillian to return to work and Mike to spend a boring afternoon, chatting with elderly retired officers, who wanted to explain how they would have prevented the fall of Singapore or sent Rommel packing long before El Alamein. Later in the day he put through a call to the A & J office and when Karen answered, asked to be put through to Miss James. When Lee came on the line Mike came straight to the point. Ive had a boring afternoon talking to elderly club-men. Take pity on me and save me from an evening of the same. Say youll have dinner with mePlease, Lee? On the other end of the line Lee hesitated, waiting for the soaring joy at the sound of his voice to allow her to speak in something like a normal manner. What about the shGillian Saxe-Crossland? she procrastinated. Oh, she took me to lunch and we discussed business. Lee caught the irony in his voice. Is that all? Why? queried Mike. Should there be more? Why no! I just thought Drop it girl, she told herself. Of course Mike, Id love to have dinner with you. Fine, then give me your address and Ill pick you up at eight. For Lee the day suddenly took on a rosy glow. The sun shone, the birds sang, God was in his heaven and all was so right with her world. All thought of serious work fled as she took up the M/S of Mikes book, which Gillian had flung on her desk without a word, earlier in the afternoon. She daydreamed as she flicked through the pages. The characters
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now had an added depth; the soldier home from Vietnam trying to come to terms with his memories, trying to fit once more into his familys life and the life of the local community. Her editors instinct sensed that the story was not autobiographical; although, she told herself, he has that military bearing and a certain air of confident authority.It was at this point that Lees day was really made. Jenny Gregs laughing voice broke in on her thoughts and she realised her friend was standing in the room. Swinging around in her chair, she left Mike, Goulbourn and Sydney Harbour as she came back to earth. Sorry Jen. What was that you said? Jenny stood with her hands behind her back, laughter lighting her face. I said, I apologise for saying...no, even THINKING, your Mr. Mainwaring might be a dog! She leaned forward and dropped her voice. Hes gorgeous! Colour leaped to Lees cheeks but she was saved from the need of a response as Jenny continued. And I think he likes youjudging by these! From behind her back, with a magicians flourish, she produced a small florists box containing an elegant corsage of pink orchids and maidenhair fern. The card said simply, Mike

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Chapter 4
The cab drew up at the Rose Bay address promptly at eight. The driver agreed to wait and Mike passed through the small courtyard, mounted the three steps to the entrance and pressed the lighted bell-push. A chime sounded within the house and he found himself tingling with anticipation. Like a kid on his first date, he chided himself. But it didnt help; the feeling persisted that something critical, some turning point in his life had been reached, and when the door opened he knew why. Lee had dressed with great care. A calf-length skirt of white linen emphasised her tall, lithe figure and slim waist, while the black button-thru top, shot with silver thread, brought out the bright highlights in her hair. The royal blue jacket she wore draped across her shoulders carried Mikes corsage. They stood for a moment, silent, each lost in the impact of their thoughts, then Mike stretched out a hand and Lee placed her small one confidently, trustingly, in his. Oh, my! Mike murmured, Lee, youre beautiful! Thank you, Lee responded and the colour rising to her cheeks did nothing for Mikes composure. The restaurant Mike had chosen was Japanese and was known for its traditional cuisine and dcor. The delightful odours coming from the direction of the kitchen made their mouths water and the staff were quiet, attentive and very Oriental, although they spoke passable English. When Mike placed their order in fluent Japanese, smiles and little bows broke out all over and a comfortable evening was assured. The meal was excellent the wine was a quality vintage and suitably chilled. The conversation was stilted at first and very general. How is your hotel? Nice spot youve got at Rose Bay. Beautiful weather were having. When they eventually ran out of such topics Mike took the initiative.
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Look, Im sorry for what happened this morning but Lee cut him off. Mike, you couldnt have done anything else. Anyway Im used to it; I dont like it but I have to put up with it. Cant you take it higher? What about the Managing Editor? I could, of course, but I look on the bright side. She doesnt interfere with my normal work; in fact, I hardly see her until a good-looking male comes into my office. Like that, eh! Yes, like that! Lee hesitated then went on. I know Ill sound like a jealous bitch, but Mike, be careful of SC. She is absolutely without scruple and would make a nasty enemy. I appreciate the warning and Ill take it seriously. I got a foretaste of it over lunch. Before Lee could ask him to elaborate, he went on. But forget about SC. Lets talk about AJ. Thatll be a far more interesting subject. Soon they were chatting amiably, like old friends as they swapped potted histories and by the time the coffee was finished both realised that their relationship had changed. They were no longer just business acquaintances, nor merely casual friends but something much deeper. For Lee, it was not just his awesome physical appeal, but rather the character she sensed beneath the masculinity; a man who was capable of implacable determination but likewise, of compassion and deep emotion, an emotion that resonated within her. Mike, on the other hand had been smitten the moment he had seen her framed in the doorway at Rose Bay. Her shy beauty and instinctive trust of his good intentions; her graceful femininity hiding an innate strength, stirred an emotion in him seldom touched in the past. I make better coffee than that, said Lee, referring to the Japanese style beverage. Like to try it? Mike took a deep breath and with a somewhat unsteady voice, said, Yes, why not! Mike paid the check and as they stood holding hands on the footpath, waiting for a taxi, Lee observed, I feel like a schoolgirl on her first date.
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Mike looked down at the smiling face. Yes and your date feels the same way. Aint it wonderful!? Shared laughter and a squeeze of the hand was his answer as the taxi drew up. At the door of Lees small home, Mike took the key and opened the door for her to pass through. Once inside he backheeled the door shut and took her into his arms. She came willingly and held her face up for his kiss; a kiss more of tenderness than passion. Mikes instinct told him that this was not the time for passion. Lets see about that coffee, he said a little breathlessly. Lee gave him a quick hug. Yes, lets! stepping back and smiling up into his eyes as she answered. She caught sight of her reflection in the wall mirror as she moved to turn down her bedcovers. She had changed into her usual pyjamas and pausing a moment, considered her image. Hmmm, maybe a negligee would be more appropriate in future. She giggled as she doused the touch-light on her bedside table and dived into the large bed, pulling up the covers and hugging herself in sheer ecstasy. The smile had never left her face since they had entered the front door; it had just become wider. At one point, she had burst into laughter and Mike had asked quickly, What was all that about? Im just so happy, she had said, I just bubbled over. Mike had laughed then and pulled her closer and their smiles had merged. Sitting on the sofa, laying back against Mikes chest and snuggled in his strong arms the conversation had become much more personal; and while the coffee went stone cold on the coffee table they knew they would become lovers not yet, but soon. As Lee drifted off to sleep an old song ran through her mind. What a day this has been, What a rare mood Im in; I think I am falling in love!

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Chapter 5
Mike awoke early and lay for a while remembering with wonderment his evening with Lee. In his thirty-two years there had been other women, other romances, but nothing like this. He thought he had known love before but now saw it as an illusionnever had his feelings been so intense, soso deep. Never had he felt so comfortable with a woman as he did with Lee. That she felt the same way he had no doubt. Their parting last night had been passionate, yet tender, a longing one for the other, but without any sense of urgency; an anticipation of love, without pressure. Even though he and Lee had met so recently Mike was absolutely sure that their life and their destiny was to be inextricably linked and the thought brought a surge of happiness throughout his whole being. Then reality bit; today he would have to take steps to head off Gillians threat to sabotage his book. He gave that problem much thought as he showered and shaved, and then ate breakfast in the hotels restaurant. The outcome was a decision to give Gillian a chance to withdraw her threat gracefully, or, failing that, to openly reject his work. In the latter case he decided he would take the matter to top management if necessarybut only as a last resort. The work would succeed or fail on its own merit, but it should, at least, have a fair hearing. Back in his hotel room, Mike decided to ring Lee and arrange a lunch date. A&J Publishing! Karen speaking. Good morning, Karen. Miss James, please. He heard the sound of the line being switched. Mrs. Saxe-Crosslands office. Can I help you? Oh I asked for Miss James. Sorry sir. Ill put you back to reception. Again the switching of lines. Sorry about that, sir. Who shall I say is calling?
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Come on, Karen! Its Mike Mainwaring. Put me through to Lee. A significant pause followed. Im sorry, sir, but I have strict instructions to put your calls through to Mrs. Saxe-Crosslands office. The tone of voice dropped and Mike could imagine its owner checking to see if she was being observed - and with no explanations! Thanks, Karen. Okay, put me through to Mrs. GS.C. Mrs. Saxe-Crosslands office. Can I help you? Yes. This is Mr. Mainwaring. I gather Mrs. GS.C wishes to speak to me! One moment, please. There was a long pause and then the voice came back. Im sorry, sir. Mrs. Saxe-Crossland is not available right now. May I take a message? No, thank you, said Mike, with some asperity. Ill get in touch later! So Gillian wanted to play games, did she, Mike thoughtwell, Ill deal her a hand she wont expect. A half-hour later Mike strode into Gillians outer office, flashed a confident smile at the secretary and asked. Gillian in? Er, no sir. Shes just gone up to see the M.E. Oh, good! Ill catch her there. And he strode out, leaving the secretary open-mouthed and wondering what all the intrigue was about this time! The Managing Editors office was one floor up and as Mike stepped out of the lift he saw the Managing Editors suite on his left. He paused before the door, taking in the legend; MANAGING EDITOR ALLEN AND JELSINSKI PUBLISHING. Below, in smaller print, was the Managing Editors name: William H. Lucas. Mike grinned as a thought passed through his mind; same old Bill, never one to seek centre stage. He opened the door and went into an outer office where a secretary guarded another door marked Private. Without breaking step he smiled at the astonished girl and spoke back over his shoulder. Dont
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worry. Hell see me, as he turned the handle and stepped through to the inner office, closing the door behind him as he moved into the room. Behind a large and untidy desk sat Bill Lucas, tall and spare, his once dark hair, thinning and grey. Standing on the opposite side of the desk was Gillian SaxeCrossland, her dark, vibrant beauty in stark contrast to her superiors air of weariness. Both heads turned toward Mike as he halted just inside the door. Lucass tired face broke into a happy smile as he rose from his chair and came forward, his hand outstretched. Mike! Great to see you, son! Didnt know you were in town. As they shook hands Mike was hard-put to keep the smile on his face, so great was the shock of seeing the drastic change in Lucas since their last meeting, almost a year ago. The once dynamic boss of A&J had become an old man; lined, grey and weary. Got down Monday, Bill. Mikes arm went around the older mans shoulder and gave it an affectionate squeezeand felt the lack of the solid muscle that had once graced that shoulder. Lucas turned back towards the desk and Gillian, still standing with a look of studied blankness, waited as he made the introductions. Mike, this is Miss Gillian Saxe-Crossland. As he turned to introduce Gillian, Mike forestalled him. Yes, he said, Weve met. Lucass eyebrows went up. Oh! Yes. Gillian cut in, It was Mr. Mainwarings manuscript that I came to see you about. But dont worry, I can see you two have things to talk about, so we can discuss it later. Without waiting for a reply, Gillian crossed the room and passed through the door to the outer office, every step and every line of her body shouting her anger. Mike grinned at Bill Lucas. Pretty touchy, isnt she? Did I upset her? Who knows? She upsets easily. But dont worry about her, Lucas said, dismissively. Sit down and tell me what youve been doing lately!

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It was almost an hour later when Mike left the Managing Editors office, having finally extracted a promise from Lucas to dine with him that evening at the Army Club. The father figure of his youth, had, over the years, become a close and valued friend and to see this once robust man reduced to such a caricature of his former self, in such a short time, left Mike with a feeling of desolation; so it was with a sigh of relief that he saw Lee approach his table for the lunch date they had arranged before he had left the building. Lee smiled widely as she accepted the chair Mike pulled out for her but the smile faded as she sensed the mood behind his answering smile. That bad? Fraid so. Gillian again? Well no, not entirely. Im worried about the change in Bill. Bill!You mean Bill Lucas? The M.E? Do you know him? Of course, Mike said, with a puzzled frown; and then his smile returned. Sorry, love. I feel so close to you I forget you dont know much about me or my background. I know enoughbut Id love to know more. Why dont you start with my boss, William H. Lucas. How come you know him? Mikes smile grew pensive as his memory flew back to his youth. Lee remained silent, happy to wait until he was ready to talk. Where do I start to tell you about Bill Lucas? Mike mused, rhetorically. At the beginning I guess. He paused, collecting his thoughts; trying to put them into some sort of chronological order, so as to be more understandable to Lee. He found it hard to remember that she knew nothing of it; that he had only met her short time ago. My father was James Mainwaring and he and Bill Lucas were friends almost from birth. Dad was the eldest by one month. They grew up on adjoining farms near Goulbourn and went to the local country school together. After high school in Goulbourn and university in Sydney, Dad returned to join a local law firm, while Bill joined the local newspaper as a
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journalist. In Sydney they had joined the University Regiment and had graduated as officers in the Army Reserve. Mike paused and sipped his coffee and Lee signalled their waiter for refills. You following all this? Not too boring? Oh Mike. Of course not, Im fascinated. Well, dad met my mother shortly after he came back to Goulbourn and about a year later they married. Bill Lucas was dads best man. I was born the day Australia decided to go all the way with LBJ. Their Reserve commissions were activated and a year later they went to Vietnam as platoon commanders. Mike paused again, frowningthe memories were still painful, even after all the years, then he managed a half-way grin. You realise youre getting the short version, dont you? he said. Lee grinned. Dont worry! Someday Ill get it all. I was four years old, Mike continued, when dad was killed in Vietnam. Lee noted the taut brows and darkening of the eyes as old and painful memories surfaced. Hed only been home twice, on short leavesI never really knew him; and Nana died shortly after that. Lee reached across the small table and lay her hand on his in silent sympathy. We went to live on the farm with pa and mum went back to work at her familys stock agency in town. Mike took her hand in both of his and gently squeezed, smiling an acknowledgement that words of sympathy were superfluous. He picked up the narrative. When Bill returned to Goulbourn he went back to the newspaper and later became its editor. He lived with his widowed sister, Maude, in town and as he and mum had been firm friends before the war, so it continued. Mum and I spent a great deal of time at Aunt Maudies; she was a goodly number of years older than Bill and I know she spoiled me rotten. I have very fond memories of that dear lady. Lee saw his face soften and his eyes take on their normal sparkle of good humour. The waiter, noting their serious conversation, brought more coffee. I cant stop now, Im on a roll, Mike quipped and continued. By the time I got to high school I had realised that mum and Bill were an itemwell, thats one way of putting
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itso, when Maudie died, it seemed like a good idea for Bill to move out to the farm. Why they didnt marry, I have no idea and Ive never asked but by this time, Billand he was always Bill to me; none of this uncle businesswas my father figure and none could have been better. Across the table, holding hands, they smiled at one another, empathising with a situation which must have seemed strange to a teenager. Once again Mike paused, seeing again his teenage years, then moved on. When I was due to go to Uni. Bill took a position on a Sydney daily and shifted us all down to the city. Mike paused again and took up his coffee and Lee took the opportunity to cut in. How did Billnow youve got me calling him thathow did he come to meet up with Julius Zelsinski? I believe that they were partners before Mr. Zelsinsky died. Youre right, they were. The way my mother told it, Julius owned a second-hand book shop; his partner, Angus Allen had gone back to Scotland and as Bill was always poking around, looking for early editions and the like, they became friends. They both had a poor opinion of the quality of the work being published at that timethis was the early seventiesso they decided to set up their own imprint and try to do better. Julius was senior partner and provided the money; Bill brought in editorial and management skills. And so A&J Publishing was launchedand thats how come I know Bill Lucas! They sat quietly for several moments; Lee, conscious that the explanation threw up more questions than it answered, and Mike feeling weighted with memories long undisturbed. Lee broke the silence. Id better get back to work that is if I still have a job. If you havent, Ill give you one. Mike said with a grin. But jokes aside, I can tell you that the axe wont fall on you. Back on the street, after a quick embrace, they went their separate ways, Mike on his way to an appointment at Army HQ, with a niggling worry about when and how much he could tell Lee about his life apart from trying to be a writer. The Army interview, he knew, would be long and stormy, and he
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looked forward to the quiet of his hotel room and a leisurely dinner with his friend and mentor.

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