Counterfeit Love (14 page)

Lucy stood in the departure lounge at Hong Kong International Airport, passport in one hand and phone in the other. She stared at Byron’s last message.

Safe travels xxxx

She gazed at the kisses on the end of the message, feeling hopelessly confused. She still wasn’t sure if she could trust him, yet here she was exchanging kisses with him by text. Things were not working quite as she’d planned.

She’d been trying to pump him for information at the yacht club, after she got over the shock of finding him there. But all the time she’d been thinking how cute he looked, even in his ugly sailing shirt. And, instead of focusing on what he was saying, she’d been thinking about how divine his accent was and reminiscing about his old-fashioned greeting at Vue, when he’d kissed her hand. It was no surprise that she’d got nowhere on the key. All the same, it was strange that Byron hadn’t even asked for it back. Maybe he was biding his time until he saw her at the Art Bar.

Thank you. Have a good week, xx
she replied, then put her phone away and prepared to board her flight to Singapore. Right now, she had to try and put Byron out of her mind and get her brain in gear for her first overseas assignment!

She’d been asked to cover a regional summit. The Singapore bureau was short of staff because one of the reporters was tied up with the Malaysian mudslide, so Lucy had been assigned to cover the meeting. She must have done something right at the China Sea Race start after all! J.T. had warned her how boring it would be – standing around outside meeting rooms in bitterly cold air-conditioning, waiting for ministers to shuffle out and issue some mindless platitude to the media.
Useful and constructive discussions
…
blah, blah, blah. Good progress on bilateral issues … blah, blah, blah. Unresolved issues in multilateral talks … blah, blah, blah.

Those gabfests are all the same
, J.T. had told her.

It might have been dull for J.T., but it didn’t sound boring to Lucy – it was an unbelievable opportunity. Lucy would be doing live updates for the news and packages for the business show, which was going to be presented live from the summit. And, if she had any free time, there was an unbelievable infinity pool on the roof of the hotel where she was staying. She couldn’t wait to check out the view.

Lucy suspected jealousy might be behind J.T.’s slant on the summit; she’d gone straight to the assignment editor after he’d given Lucy the story. But Lucy didn’t have time to worry about that – she had a whole lot of summit to get across before tomorrow morning.

For the next three days she had to focus on international affairs. If a spat blew up between China and Vietnam, she had to be on top of the issues. If a new regional grouping was being worked out, she had to know about it. She had to be able to recognise every minister at the summit, get to know them and get to know their press people. She needed to be on the spot when a minister coughed up some unexpected information or made a gaffe. And then she needed to get everything to air ahead of her rivals. In short, she didn’t just need to do a good job covering the summit – she needed to be outstanding. That was the only way she was going to get what she was after: a chance to anchor the news.

To make things even more exciting, she’d be working alongside Mandy Cheung. Lucy shuddered as she thought back to her first encounter with her. Lucy had long been a fan, but when she’d bumped into Mandy, just after arriving at TVi, she’d got so starstruck she could hardly speak. Lucy had always wanted to congratulate her on an interview she’d done with a disgraced corporate big shot. But when she saw Mandy outside the studio, her mind went completely blank. Out came the first thing that popped into her mouth, before her brain could okay it.

‘I love your skirt,’ she’d gushed. Lucy felt sick just thinking about it.

Mandy must have taken her for a complete airhead. What kind of reporter complimented one of Asia’s most respected news presenters on her
wardrobe?
Was she a reporter or a stylist? Lucy had been too embarrassed to even speak to Mandy since – she’d just avoided her completely.

But she’d have plenty of time to make up for that on the flight to Singapore, because they’d be sitting together. Mandy was going to spearhead the coverage of the summit and they’d be working together for the next three days. Lucy was already sweating at the thought of it. She took her seat next to the window, put her laptop in the seat pocket, strapped herself in and waited, hoping she wouldn’t be so clueless when she saw Mandy this time. Lucy was used to seeing her around the office, but she wasn’t taking any chances: she had a greeting prepared, along with three follow-up questions. She also had plenty to discuss with Mandy about the issues facing the summit. Lucy was a serious reporter, and she was going to make sure Mandy knew that by the time they arrived in Singapore.

Lucy browsed through the in-flight magazine to keep herself from staring down the aisle while she waited for Mandy to board. An article on Asia’s most secluded island paradises caught her eye, and she momentarily let her mind drift back to Byron. It would have been so cool to explore the islands off Thailand with him. Byron seemed too young to afford a boat – he must be a very successful geologist, or whatever it was that he did. She’d get to the bottom of it on Friday night.

‘You must be Lucy,’ came a voice from the aisle, stirring Lucy from her dream. A petite woman in a trouser suit extended her hand. ‘I’m Mandy. I’ve seen you around the newsroom, but I don’t know that we’ve met.’

Lucy smiled and shook her hand, relieved that Mandy had either forgotten the comment she’d made three months ago, or had chosen to ignore it. ‘Nice to meet you at last.’

Mandy put her bag in the overhead locker and stuffed a novel in the seat pocket. She sat down beside Lucy, giving off a scent of perfume and cigarettes. ‘Spent much time in Singapore?’ she asked.

Lucy shook her head. ‘First time.’

‘Covered a summit like this before?’

Lucy paused. She considered mentioning the Olympics, which was a bit like a summit for athletes instead of politicians, but she figured Mandy might read it the wrong way and assume she was either a sports reporter, stupid, or both. ‘No, but I’m really excited about it. I’ve been doing a lot of reading on the big trade issues. I think something’ll blow up between Malaysia and Indonesia at this one.’

‘Been working in TV a while, have you?’

Lucy nodded. ‘Three months with TVi.’

Mandy frowned. ‘I mean before TVi. With one of the Australian networks?’

Lucy shook her head. ‘No. This is my first job.’

Mandy laughed. ‘Christ. Someone thinks you’re all right.’ She picked up her book. ‘I better watch my back. Next thing I know, you’ll be sitting in my chair.’

Lucy put her hand over her face and laughed to hide the colour of her cheeks. She was sure she’d turned bright red. Was her ambition that obvious? ‘
Wow
. I don’t think anyone’s ever going to replace you! Especially after that interview you did a couple of years back – powerful stuff.’

Mandy opened her book and put on her glasses. ‘TV news has a short memory,’ she quipped, and then started reading. Lucy watched her out of the corner of her eye for a moment, wondering why she was reading a novel and not preparing for the summit. And then she realised Mandy had probably known she was going to Singapore ages ago; she’d be well prepared already. She’d just have to skim over the headlines when she got up in the morning and she’d be ready for the day.

Lucy left Mandy to her book and looked out the window as the plane took off. It was her first flight since she’d arrived in Hong Kong, and she couldn’t take her eyes off the city below –
What a place
. She still couldn’t believe she was actually there, let alone being sent on her first overseas assignment.

She wondered if Mandy had been serious about watching her back. Lucy knew she must have done something right to be sitting alongside Mandy Cheung on her way to Singapore, but she suspected that once again she’d been lucky. J.T. was the obvious choice to cover the summit, but she’d lined up interviews with the financial secretary for the week. She couldn’t get away. Lucy was ambitious, but she knew she’d have to work hard for a chance at anchoring the news – like everything else in her life. She’d have to take her opportunities and make the most of them.

She glanced at Mandy, now engrossed in her book. It would have been good to pick her brains for four hours on the way to Singapore, but she didn’t think Mandy would welcome that. Lucy pulled out her laptop and started going through her file on the summit. She had a stack of issues she wanted to acquaint herself with, as well as a pile of profiles on the ministers involved. Lucy opened the first document and began her work.

By the time the flight attendant announced that it was time to land, Lucy’s head was spinning from information overload. There was no way she’d be able to understand all the issues and remember all of the ministers before she arrived at the summit tomorrow morning at seven. She’d be up all night getting through everything, and then she’d be a wreck tomorrow when she needed to be alert and looking good. She sighed, going over the profiles of the ministers one last time. There was probably a minute or two to go before a flight attendant told her to put her laptop away. She closed her eyes, trying to recall which name went with which face, went with which issue, went with which country.

‘Need a hand?’ Mandy said, speaking to Lucy for the first time since they’d taken off.

‘No, I’m fine. Just making sure I know who’s who.’

Mandy leant across and looked at Lucy’s laptop. ‘That’s the guy you want to stay close to – if anyone’s going to say something newsworthy, it’ll be him.’ She pointed to a photo of one of the delegates. Then she picked out another one. ‘She won’t put a foot out of line. And that one won’t even talk to the media.’

Mandy continued down the list of delegates. ‘His press officer is a hoot. Don’t bother with him. Watch out for her, and make sure you stay upwind of that guy.’ She waved her hand across her face with a smile. ‘Terrible body odour.’

Lucy laughed.

‘Don’t sweat the peripheral stuff. Just focus on the big stories. Be nice to your cameraman and
don’t ever, ever, ever
miss a deadline.’

‘Thanks,’ Lucy smiled.

‘You’ll be fine. I saw your reports on the race yesterday. You’ll be more than fine.’

‘Are you going to extradite Sam Tang?’ a reporter shouted as the Malaysian trade minister emerged from a meeting with his Indonesian counterpart.

Lucy pushed through the media scrum to get her mic closer to the minister. After waiting outside the meeting room for two hours, she’d been caught by surprise when the doors finally opened and the delegates filed out. She’d been left stranded behind the cameraman instead of in front of him.

‘We’ve had useful and constructive meetings this morning.’ The minister ignored the question and spouted the usual bland language. ‘My counterpart and I are in agreement that the economic as well as environmental needs of the region should be addressed.’

‘What about Sam Tang?’ another reporter called.

‘I have nothing to say on that subject. Thank you.’

A chorus of questions rose from the media pack, but the minister had said all he was going to say. He walked off. The Indonesian minister slipped past with a smile and a wave, and said nothing at all. Lucy sighed and dropped her microphone. After a long wait, she had nothing.

The big story had broken early that morning while Lucy was still getting her accreditation to cover the summit. Interpol had issued an arrest warrant for a trio of suspected match fixers. The men, shady businessmen from Malaysia, Indonesia and Hong Kong, had been accused of masterminding a crime ring that involved fixing hundreds of football matches in Europe and Asia, and betting on the outcomes. Sam Tang, a Malaysian national, and alleged match-fixing kingpin was now the number one wanted man in Italy.

The story had been broken by M.T. Lai, who
had
been Lucy’s favourite investigative reporter. He was now her least favourite. Thanks to him, the summit had turned into a match-fixing media circus. Lucy had spent hours studying the economic, environmental and defence issues facing Asia, but the newsroom had completely lost interest in them, only wanting sound bites on organised crime in sport.

‘You want to edit the piece now?’ Lucy’s cameraman Mac asked, packing up his gear.

Lucy looked at her watch. She had fifteen minutes before her deadline – just enough time to get the piece to air on the next bulletin. It was just a shame she’d be filing another
nothing to say on that issue
story.

As the camera crews started to pack up around her, Lucy dithered. She knew she had to get on with her story, but she couldn’t face sending a piece with no actual news in it. Even a tiny snippet of information would make a big difference to the piece. There had to be someone hanging around who would talk, and the least she could do was take a look. So, instead of editing her story, Lucy beckoned the cameraman and went for the corridor where a few of the delegates had disappeared. There was a chance that someone would be willing to say something.