Dark Oil (23 page)

As Alan opened his mouth to speak the phone rang. He checked the caller's identity on the device's display panel and raised his hand, stopping Jack in his tracks. “I have to take this. It's confidential.”

Jack slipped out of the office as quickly as he could, a sense of failure strangling him. Had his last comments had any effect whatsoever on Alan? Probably not. The CEO had dismissed him without so much as acknowledging his views, without asking him to come back and continue the discussion.

So that was it. He wouldn't be going to Negala, ever again. He would be based thousands of miles away in Mexico, wouldn't be seeing Lara any more, wouldn't have any excuse to talk to her. What hope was there now? He felt like he had just lost his last chance. He wished he could run and catch that plane to Negala anyway, against the CEO's will. He wanted to kick and scream.

What difference would it make? He was trapped.

Lara slapped herself in an attempt to kill the mosquito that had been buzzing near her ear. The malaria tablets had been making her so sick she had had to stop taking them and was acutely aware of the presence of any of the potentially disease-laden insects.

“A mozzie,” she said by way of explanation when Martin stared at her.

He cleared his throat. “Remember, don't say anything until I ask you to.” He put his hand up as she opened her mouth to speak. “Unless you really feel you must.”

She smiled. Martin was learning to give her a little more free rein, although it was painful for him.

It had taken the Minister two days to contact them to arrange a meeting, even though it was he who had sent word of his availability to Alan Smiles, two days Lara had spent trying to access her emails from Global Oil's house, eating sandy pizza and couscous. Two days with too little to do to stop Lara's mind from wandering. She'd thought about Tim, and shivered with hate. She'd thought about Jack, too, against her better judgement, his image insidiously creeping into her mind the minute she let down her guard. It annoyed her that she couldn't control her own thoughts, annoyed her that she felt a flutter in her stomach when she closed her eyes and saw the cute dimple in Jack's cheek.

Now that the time for the meeting with the Minister had finally come, they had been kept waiting once again for nearly forty minutes in an uncomfortably hot, bare room at the Department of Energy—time Lara used to strengthen her resolve to avoid men altogether, regardless of whether they sported endearing dimples or made her knees turn to jelly.

At last they heard footsteps in the corridor, slow, assured and heavy. Within seconds Minister Hamed stood before them. They rose to their feet, Martin shaking hands with him, Lara simply nodding as she greeted him in Negalese. Hamed sat and with a flick of the index finger invited them to do the same.

“Have your superiors sent a message of goodwill?” The Minister's smile was controlled.

Martin leaned forward. “Our company has indicated it wishes to work with the government of Negala. It is an honour to be here developing resources that will lead the country into a new era. I know you will appreciate the significance of this project. However, if by a sign of goodwill you are looking for an immediate contribution outside the terms of the PSC, I'm afraid that is not possible.”

The Minister narrowed his eyes. “Where is Mr Jack?”

Martin, bewildered, raised his palms to the ceiling. “What does that—?”

Lara could tell from his tone it was time to rescue him and she stepped in without hesitation. “Mr Jack was unfortunately held up overseas. He wanted very much to be here. However, his response would have been the same. In fact, the Deputy Manager of Exploration will be here tomorrow and will be able to confirm the position if you wish, Minister.”

“In Negala we do not take kindly to such unwillingness to co-operate. Do you understand?”

Martin's face turned red. “Is that a threat? Because if—”

He was on slippery ground, worse than before, and Lara wished he hadn't uttered those words. His temper would get him nowhere with the Minister. She cut him off once
again, although with a little nod of the head towards him and as much graciousness as possible. “We are saddened that we have not been able to reach agreement so far on this matter. We would like to reiterate our wish to continue to develop the petroleum resources of Negala. We humbly request that you reconsider the position in relation to our title, Sir.”

Lara studied Minister Hamed but he sat immobile, a perfect statue, with no clues as to how her message was being received. She continued. “Global Oil's experience as an oil producer is unparalleled. There is no better company to take Negala from a country where resource wealth is locked in the ground to an oil-producing country, perhaps the most productive in the world. We have the knowledge, the means, the expertise—”

“That is where you are mistaken, Mrs Lara. There are other companies in the world. I have no interest in this talk.” The interruption was abrupt, the Minister's voice icy. He snapped his fingers, his secretary appearing almost instantly at the door. “These people are ready to leave. Show them out, Kalim.”

Gone were the flowery salutations, the smiles and the mint tea. Without further niceties they were escorted to their car. Kalim waited until the driver started the engine and disappeared down the street, no doubt to make sure they had actually left.

Lara looked at her watch “Shall we go to the airport to pick up Justin? He'll be arriving soon.”

Martin shook his head. “We don't need to do that.” He turned to the driver. “Please drop us off at the house and collect Justin Meyer at the airport. He'll be at the Global Oil Customs office by now.” The driver nodded.

At the house Martin gestured to Lara. “Let's go for a walk down the street.” The house was still bugged and the only way to talk freely was to go outside. It seemed they were always stepping out for fresh air these days, despite the blistering heat, and making banal conversation at the house.

The hot sand poured into Lara's sandals, gritty in between her toes, as she and Martin made their way down the street. They walked a few minutes, until the first turn-off where grew the familiar tree, the usual protection from the sun during their discussions, and stood in its shade. Further up the road, truly out of earshot, a group of boys kicked a ball around in a cloud of dust and Lara wondered how they could do that in the unbearable heat. No one else was around and it seemed safe to talk.

She sheltered her eyes from the sun with her hand. “We need to go higher up. Have we had meetings with the President before?”

It felt strange to her, calling the man at the head of the country the President, when in reality he was a self-appointed dictator from the ranks of the army. To her, the title of President implied freedom of choice, a vote that extended to all citizens, including women, and human rights. None of those applied here.

“Not this President. The one before, once. Not a helpful chap.” Martin bit his lip. “I don't know what we do if he's in on it.”

“We need to find out who Hamed's allies are. Do you know if the President appointed him? Are they related?”

Martin shrugged. “Dave might know. I'll go and have a chat with him later.”

“And I'll need to find out what the legal system allows here. It must be possible to challenge a Minister's decision. I'll speak to a local lawyer, perhaps pay one a visit.”

Martin turned up his nose and she knew what he was thinking. “Don't worry, I won't give anything away. I'll talk in generalities.” She'd had lots of practice burying relevant
questions in a heap of irrelevant remarks and discussions—legal camouflaging as she liked to call it.

They went back, Martin taking giant steps, Lara half running every now and then to keep up with him. Martin stopped in front of the house. “I'll call in and see Maine right now. The sooner we know the better. And I'll ring the President's office to find out if he'll agree to meeting. See you for dinner, if not before.”

He walked towards the car that was parked out the front of the house, ready to go, and then suddenly turned around. “If you manage to get an appointment to see a lawyer today, take someone with you. Take Justin, or the driver, or even Bengali. Make sure they stay outside when you're talking to the lawyer, though. Except Justin, of course.”

Lara took a deep breath. It irritated her a little that he still instructed her on the obvious. “Of course. I wouldn't dream of taking the driver or Bengali into the meeting. You know that, right?”

Martin climbed into the four wheel drive without another word and disappeared in a cloud of dust. Lara sighed with relief. A few hours to herself, free to work however she wished, would be nice.

She was about to go upstairs when she heard the clattering of cups and cutlery in the kitchen. She'd noticed Bengali and the driver outside, so she guessed it was Justin making himself a drink. He must have arrived early. Perhaps he'd caught a taxi to the house when he'd found no one waiting for him at the airport.

She quickly flagged down Bengali who she saw through the window, crossing the courtyard, and poked her head through the door to speak to him. “Bengali, would you ring the driver who went to the airport, I forget his name, and please let him know Mr Justin is already here?”

“Mr Justin, you say?”

“Yes.”

“All right, Mrs Lara.”

As Bengali took his mobile out of his pocket, Lara came back inside. Wanting to start off on the right foot with Justin she decided to introduce herself there and then. She would see if he needed any help before retreating for a while to catch up on emails, if she was lucky enough to log on. And she had to make an appointment with a local lawyer.

Entering the kitchen she heard Justin in the pantry. She approached, ready to introduce herself, then she smelled his cologne, saw the outline of his dark hair. She clutched her blouse as if to protect herself from the unwanted joy she was scared she wouldn't be able to control, the joy she didn't want to feel.

“Well, hello!” She'd hoped to sound casual, but she knew she didn't.

“Lara! It's lovely to see you.” Jack turned around and came closer to her. Suddenly he kissed her on the cheek before taking a step back. “Sorry. I shouldn't have done that.”

“No, it's fine.” Lara busied herself, getting a glass out of the cupboard, filling it with water, to hide her red face. She didn't want Jack to see she was blushing, blushing from the pleasure of meeting him again, the fleeting but undeniable joy of feeling his lips against her skin, and the confusion those feelings brought.

She took a deep breath. Confusion? No! It was a purely physical reaction and she wasn't going to let physics rule her life, not when she had a brain, and a good one.

“I thought Justin was coming. We were told you were going to Mexico.”

“A bit of a disappointment, is it?” She could tell from the warmth of his voice that he was teasing her, that he knew she was anything but disappointed when she first saw him.

“Well, in a way. I'm sure I could boss Justin around more than I can you.”

Jack laughed and as the dimple formed in his left cheek and his emerald eyes lit up, she quickly looked away, telling herself she wasn't going to notice Jack's best assets.

Jack must have noticed, for he was quiet for an instant, before he spoke again in his smooth, rich chocolate voice. “Speaking of bossy, where's Martin?”

Lara told him of Martin's whereabouts, of what had happened with the Minister, and of her plans for the afternoon.

“I'll come with you. I haven't anything better to do than hang around with a bunch of lawyers, anyway.”

“You don't need to. I'm sure you're tired from the flight. I can ask Bengali to take me. I'll just freshen up and try to tee up an appointment.”

Jack seemed to stiffen. “Well, if you want to go with Bengali. It sounds like you'd rather.”

“Good, good.” Lara was trying hard to strike a balance between friendly and business-like, but something told her she lacked conviction. There was a hint of apprehension in her voice that she couldn't seem to mask. It wasn't fear of Jack, really, she was afraid of herself, of the hold her body had over her mind. If there was one man she could get into trouble with, one man for whom she might throw caution to the wind in a moment of madness, it was Jack. But she wasn't going to let that happen, not after what she'd been through with Tim, not when Jack was probably the worst cheat of all.

Jack clicked his tongue. “OK, then.” He seemed lost for a moment, his eyes clouding briefly with what might have been sadness, but he soon smiled and spoke in an overly jovial tone. “So what's new since we last talked? It's been a while.”

Lara shrugged. “Nothing much.” She rubbed her nose as she remembered the last time they were together, and how the mystery of Ange was about to be revealed. She still wanted to know what had happened between Jack and Ange. She shouldn't have, it was none of her business, especially since she had no interest in Jack. None whatsoever.

“Speaking of the last time we talked, you never got to tell me about Ange.” She hadn't been able to hold back the question. She was curious, too curious to forget about the whole thing. Something told her Ange had been important—if not to Jack then at least to Martin. And she wanted to know if Jack had had something to do with Ange while she was still married to Martin. Somehow, for a reason not entirely clear to her, she needed to know.

But the minute she asked, she became conscious of the house being bugged, and of Jack's obvious unwillingness to go into it there and then. She smiled. “Maybe later?”

“There's nothing to tell, really.”

He left the kitchen suddenly in a hurry, climbing the stairs two by two, and disappeared down the corridor to his room. Lara followed, at a slower pace, stopping at the study, cursing herself for bothering Jack with her unjustified questions. The answer didn't matter, did it, since she was not interested in Jack? She wasn't, was she? No, she wasn't interested in men at all. She was much better off on her own.