Catier's strike (11 page)

They didn't stand a chance.' She sniffed. `There's no sense in trying to hang on to the young ones. They do what they want to do these days,' she went on, hastily changing the subject, as if she could sense Sarah's sympathy. 'It's all different these days,' she added darkly.

Sarah was certain that Mrs Pullman's thoughts were not entirely on Sandy when she made that pronouncement, and she hastily introduced another subject. Had it been a sudden decision for her to take leave?

The answer was as Sarah had thought. It had been sudden. Mrs Pullman would normally have stayed on if the big boss was still around, and it was plain that she considered that Sean Cartier had left the site for quite some time.

Sarah wasn't really convinced about this, for she felt that it would be just like him to expect her to do the cooking as well as the typing. She had complained about the figure work and the loneliness, and he would consider that more work would soon cure that.

Shortly after lunch they went their separate ways. Mrs Pullman to pack her case, and no doubt take a short nap afterwards, and Sarah to generally tidy up. Her things were already packed.

Mrs Pullman told her that the Park van could be expected any time after three, and Sara replied that she would be back at the canteen well before that, in case he was early.

When she had finished putting everything to rights in her room, she went into the small room she had used as an office, and noticed that the file

had gone, and for the first time she began to believe that Mrs Pullman had been right in assuming that Sean Cartier did not intend to return for quite some time.

As Sarah stared around her, she saw that there was not a trace of any work in the room. Even the waste paper basket had been emptied.

She drew in a long breath. Sean Cartier's decision to go to Darwin had been an overnight one. It was because of what had happened. He couldn't trust himself not to repeat his advances.

Perhaps he hoped she would escape? Her forehead creased in thought. It would be the perfect answer for him. He would know that her only wish would be to keep out of his vicinity. He didn't really believe she was a security risk, even though he had accused her of not being very bright; she would have to be an absolute dullard if she was stupid enough to publish news of the find.

No, she mused, it was just an excuse to pay her out. Why, if she had been a real security threat, he would have warned Mrs Pullman to keep an eye on her, and he hadn't!

Sarah took a deep breath. As far as he was concerned, the game was over. She closed her eyes as a feeling of deep relief spread over her. It was over! All she had to do was to get to the National Park and beg a lift from one of the coaches or from private transport. She would prefer not to go back to Darwin, but she knew she had no choice in the matter.

In any case, it would be dark by the time they got to Darwin, and surely that was all to the

good? Not that there was a chance that she would run into Sean Cartier, he would be too busy whooping it up in some night spot to even give her a thought.

She would book in at a small hotel, and with luck, be on the first plane out and on her way home before His Lordship was awake.

In her mind's eye she saw herself striding up the steps of the Daily entrance and walking through reception, giving an idle wave to Marge at her desk, and going on through to the maze of small offices with the typewriters blazing away. She smiled, it was doubtful whether they would notice her as she made her way to the editor's office.

From then on, it would be easy. She would not go into details, her thoughts remained the same on this. The less said the better. The 'engagement' was off! This produced another smile from Sarah, and after a glance at her watch, she went back to her room and gathered up her case, then made her way to the canteen to await the Park van.

As it happened the van was early, and arrived at a quarter to three. Mrs Pullman was still in her quarters, and Sarah, anxious to be on her way, approached the driver when he got out of his van to make the delivery.

Flashing her press card at him, and giving him a smile that made him blink, Sarah asked if he'd mind giving her a lift out of the site. She had come to see Mr Cartier, she explained, and found he was on leave. Now she was stuck without transport, and could he oblige?

It was as well for Sarah that the van driver was not all that bright, for had this actually been the case, she would never have got past the gate in the first place..

As in the past, the showing of the press card did wonders. It was an open sesame to otherwise closed doors, and with a grin the driver said he would be glad to have her aboard. By the time Mrs Pullman had got to the canteen, the fruit had been delivered and the driver waiting for her signature.

There were a few bad moments for Sarah when Mrs Pullman mentioned the pass she would have to have before she got past the gates, and in dismay she could see all her hopes going up in smoke, until Mrs Pullman reminded her of the small blue plastic badge they had all been given to wear on their lapels while on the site, and after a feverish search in her shoulder bag, Sarah found hers tucked away at the bottom of her bag. Since becoming, or being forced to become a member of staff, she had not had to display the badge. That rule was confined to visitors only.

She managed to contain her feelings of utter relief as she produced the badge when they were stopped at the gate on the way out, and then waved out of the site, and she blessed Mrs Pullman for her foresight in reminding her about the badge. In her heightened state of apprehension, she might well have burst into tears when challenged for her pass, and found herself being held in custody while a few more enquiries were made, and that meant contacting the big boss—and that meant—

Sarah felt like bursting into song as they left the site behind them. She had made it! She hadn't been able to bring herself to really believe that she could do it, until now, and if Eddie had any more stories that concerned or even vaguely concerned the Bureau of Mineral Researches, he would have to consign them to someone else. Wild horses wouldn't drag her back to Sean Cartier's dominion!

She found that she had been wrong in assuming that the National Park would be at least a hundred miles from the site, because it turned out to be only thirty miles away.

In return for replying to the driver's curious questions about the life of a journalist, Sarah extracted information about the Park.

Their destination, she learned, was to be Jim Jim, a popular visiting area, not only because of its spectacular falls and great beauty, but because it catered for the tourist in providing motel accommodation.

Already the scenery was changing, she noticed, as they sped on along the Arnhem Highway, the desert-like scenery being replaced by greenery. The change was so dramatic that she had to blink once or twice to convince herself that she was not dreaming. She could see and hear the screech of the brightly coloured parakeets as they flew from tree to tree, in what was surely paradise after the aridity that reigned only twenty miles distant.

Seeing deep gorges ahead of them, Sarah was reminded of the brochure she had studied, and she asked the driver if they might spot a crocodile.

This produced a grin from the driver. 'Going to do a feature on the Park?' he asked, then said, `We might, but you'd really have to go deeper into the reserve. There's plenty of guides who can show you. You'd have to book up, of course. They're pretty busy right now, there's a last-minute rush before the wet.' His eyes scanned the horizon. 'Signs are it's not too far ahead,' he added.

Sarah had no wish to get trapped in that part of the world, and as much as she would have liked to have booked herself up for a tour, she daren't risk it. It was a bit too near a certain person's territory. All he would have to do was to go and collect her if he felt so inclined, but opportunity would be a fine thing, she told herself, and she wasn't about to allow that to happen.

As soon as they arrived at Jim Jim, after profusely thanking the driver, Sarah went to the motel and enquired about transport back to Darwin. After being asked if she had missed her coach, she had to admit that she had got private transport to the Park, but now needed to get back to Darwin under her own steam.

The receptionist was plainly of the opinion that she had come with a boy-friend, had a row, and preferred to go it alone. Sarah didn't care what she thought, as long as she could provide some sort of transport for her.

`Well, there's coach number seven,' the receptionist said. 'The driver will be in the cafe. He's due to leave in ten minutes. He didn't come in with a full quota, so he'll probably take you.'

Sarah could have hugged the receptionist, who

in a way reminded her of Mrs Pullman, a little younger, but of the same opinion as the canteen manageress. Her expression had said it all—trips of that nature should never be undertaken with someone you didn't know very well. It was just asking for trouble.

The cafe was really a part of the motel, only one had to go outside and enter by another door, and as there were only a few people in the café, it was not hard for Sarah to spot the coach driver, since he was the only one there that sported a cap with the legend 'Sunset Tours' across the front.

The name of the firm rang a bell, of course, for Sarah recalled that that had been the name of the coach that had got stuck in a rut not far from the site, and she devoutly hoped that history would not repeat itself on the way back to Darwin.

She had no trouble in securing herself a seat on the coach, and she just had time for a cup of tea before she followed the driver's tall back out of the café and to the coach lined up with others at the back of the motel.

As she settled down in the back of the coach, Sarah looked at her watch. The coach was leaving at four forty-five, and the estimated time of arrival in Darwin would be around ten o'clock. She would then have to book in for the night, and be off, with luck, on the first flight out to Sydney the next morning.

After so much activity, she was physically and mentally tired, and not long after the coach had left Jim Jim she was sound asleep.

The next thing she knew was a buzz of activity around her, that somehow got through the fog of

sleep, and the coach driver calling out 'Darwin' for the benefit of others like Sarah, who passed the journey in sleep.

The bright lights of the terminus made her blink as she gathered her overnight case from the rack above her and sleepily followed the other passengers out of the coach.

Her feet were on the last step of the coach when she found herself caught in an embrace that knocked the wind out of her sails. 'Darling! So glad you could make it,' said a voice that Sarah had hoped never to hear again, and for a minute or so she thought she must still be dreaming, but when the voice said close to her right ear, 'You didn't think it was going to be that easy, did you?' she came down to earth with a bump.

With his hard arm around her waist, pinioning her to his side, Sean bundled her to the car park, and before she could utter a word, for she was still in shock, he had pushed her into a Land Rover, where she sat for a moment trying to get her breath back. A second later he was in the driving seat and starting the engine.

All Sarah could think of was that they were heading back to the site, back to the wilds, with no Mrs Pullman, and no one else near her but this hateful man sitting beside her.

She was beyond tears, she knew when she was beaten. What a fool she had been in thinking he would let her go as easily as that! He had had it all worked out, she thought dully.

His next words more or less confirmed this. 'I checked with the gate,' he said casually, 'I thought you might get smart. Still, it gave you a

day out, I suppose,' he added in an amused voice, then gave her a hard look. 'Didn't communicate with anyone, did you?' he asked harshly, then answered his own question. 'No, you wouldn't be that much of a fool, would you? You just wanted to get back to the bright lights, didn't you? I'm afraid that's still out for you. We're going to my place. There's no bus routes there, and no bright lights either.'

Sarah said nothing. She didn't think there could be any worse place than the site, but what he had just said showed her that there could be. Goodness only knew where they were heading now. To some shack in the wilderness, she presumed, and almost shuddered. At least she had had some privacy before. Sean must have had this place in mind all along, she thought bitterly, as she recalled his words that she would be begging him to marry her. It didn't leave much to the imagination.

`We'll make one stop,' he said curtly, breaking, into her miserable musings, as he leant forward towards her side, an action that made her cringe away from him, but he seemed not to notice it as he felt for a catch on the dashboard in front of her, and finding it, brought a small flap down. `There's a flask of coffee in there,' he said, 'help yourself when you want it. There's some sandwiches, too. We're only stopping for gas,' he added perfunctorily.

Sarah was neither hungry nor thirsty. She wanted nothing from this man, and with an angry gesture she pushed the flap back into position.

`Suit yourself,' he said airily, then concentrated on his driving.

For a while Sarah watched the road too, but as it seemed an endless red dirt track that seemed to lead further and further into the wilderness, she soon found herself being lulled into sleep. For a time she fought against it, fearful that she would eventually lean against the driver, then as the urge to close her eyes became too strong to resist, she compromised by turning her head towards the window on her side. If she couldn't stay awake then at least she could ensure that she stayed well away from the man who had become the bane of her life.