The Affair (25 page)

‘Well, doctor,’ he said. ‘We would love to have you as our guest next week. It is the end of harvest and we always have a bit of a celebration. There are wine tastings, food, a jazz band, rides for the children. You are welcome to bring your family.’

Leo continued to stare at Nina. ‘I don’t have a family,’ he said.

He noted the flash of pain in her eyes. It didn’t give him the satisfaction he expected. Instead he found he wanted to reach across the table and take her hands in his.

‘Please come,’ she said softly.

James continued talking, telling of the wonderful things Leo would find at the winery, how welcome Patty would make him. Leo heard all of it, dimly, as a couple of different scenarios played through his mind.

All the time he couldn’t take his eyes off Nina.

Leo tried to picture Luke. He imagined a short faceless figure in baggy shorts with sandy hair and
a baseball cap worn backwards. He was calling out ‘Uncle Leo, Uncle Leo, come and look at this …’ His childish voice bubbled with excitement, as if he had just found something through a microscope and he wanted to show it off. Leo saw James standing nearby looking at him with the same expression he wore now, a mixture of admiration and gratitude. He was thanking Leo and introducing him to an amorphous cheering crowd as the man ‘who saved me’. It all seemed so wholesome and welcoming.

As the picture came more sharply into focus, Leo saw Nina. The expression in her eyes was just as it was now, soft and luminous, full of love and tenderness. But she was standing next to his imaginary James and it was he who was gently stroking the underside of her arm, the tender skin near her elbow, imparting his love and strength and claiming an established intimacy that made Leo’s heart ache.

The image slowly dissolved. He smiled at Nina. It took some effort of will, but he managed. For the first time Nina saw a hint of the Leo she remembered. The smile held the faintest trace of his old, mischievous self. His hands relaxed on top of the medical files.

‘Thank you. That’s very kind of you. But I don’t think so. I would prefer to stay where I am, in the background, as your silent partner.’

Nina’s eyes were wistful.

Our silent partner. How fitting.

There was so much she wanted to say. And there
was so much Leo wanted to hear. They stared mutely at each other.

James, standing behind Nina, gave a little cough. Nina knew it was a communication meant for her. Unless there was some new topic for them to discuss, it was time for them to go. The appointment was finished.

Still she stared at Leo.

He felt himself grow warm under her gaze. Something sweet and precious, beyond words, passed between them. It took just a moment, then it was as if the light dimmed in Nina’s eyes. Leo watched, entranced, as she gathered herself together, composed her face and rejoined her husband.

She and James walked together to the door.

Nina hesitated. She couldn’t just leave like this. She had loved Leo in a way that had shocked and delighted her and she needed him to know that. But she knew also that she could never see him again. James was right behind her. She could feel his breath on the top of her back, where the zip finished, exposing her bare skin. She struggled with her conflicting emotions.

‘You know,’ she said, turning slowly back to face Leo, ‘our son Lucas is very interested in science. He wants to be a doctor when he grows up. If he does, I hope he will be as kind and generous as you have been.’

Something hard and tight inside Leo finally gave way. The fissure cracked wide open and he felt it throughout his body.

Nina could see the change in the way Leo held
himself; his whole demeanour was transformed. The hard line of his jaw softened as he stopped clenching his teeth. He relaxed his shoulders and neck muscles.

They smiled gently at each other while James opened the door.

Leo watched her leave, knowing it was the last time he would ever see her.

When the door clicked shut, Leo picked up the plastic files beneath his hands, then swivelled his chair to face the magnificent view.

He sat very still, exploring the way he felt, savouring its taste and texture. He was lighter, freer. But also he was sad. Melancholic. It wasn’t unpleasant, he decided.

As he watched, a huge luxury ocean liner entered the harbour, dwarfing the ferries and sailing boats it passed. Each of its four decks was crowded with holidaymakers waving banners and flags.

Perhaps he should give his old mate Nick a call, he thought. See if he needed extra crew for that fancy new boat of his. It was years since Leo had been out on the water. Suddenly he wanted to feel the gentle rhythm of a swaying timber deck beneath his feet and a stiff, salty breeze on his face.

Leo opened the Wilde files and removed the half dozen loose sheets. He carried them across the room and fed them through the document shredder, watching each one re-emerge as dozens of long white fingers, snaking into the bin.

Heartfelt thanks to my wonderful agent Selwa Anthony; my enthusiastic publisher Cate Paterson; three friends who were full of good advice, Anna Davison, Linda Smith and Mellisa Gillies; London journalists Diane Blackwell and Geoff Garvey; those fascinating men from Lloyd’s of London, Nick Doak and Mark Whitfield, who were so generous with their time and knowledge; Amelia Chow, Melitis Kwong, Jin Yeo, Luc Dierckx and Wayne Tisdale for their hospitality and many kindnesses in Canada; Sydney yachties Louisa Geddes and Andrew Copley for their sailing expertise; Will and Fiona Ryan of Ryan Wines for their explanations of the wine industry (and many a fabulous chardonnay); my sister Christine Ronaldson for her medical advice; and to my Italian friend, Mauro de March, your name is an inspiration!

Insurance giant Lloyd’s of London is one of the financial world’s most salubrious institutions, its name synonymous with wealth, privilege and security. It operates by way of syndicates which in the late eighties were made up of 32,000 individuals from around the world who underwrote Lloyd’s various insurance activities, from insuring ships to a rock star’s lips.

The entry requirements for syndicates were simple: you needed to be well connected enough to be invited and have assets of A$565,000 (
£
250,000), held as cash, shares, property or bonds. Each ‘name’ personally visited the impressive headquarters in London to be vetted by a high-level Lloyd’s committee and have explained to them the cause of ‘unlimited liability’.

For 24 years in a row the names had received returns of between 5 and 10 per cent annually on
assets already utilised elsewhere and it became known as ‘easy money’ for those privileged enough to be invited to join. However, in the late eighties and early nineties an unprecedented series of disasters, including the sinking of the Piper Alpha oil rig, the Exxon Valdez spill, asbestos claims and numerous typhoons, meant that Lloyd’s needed to find A$16 billion for payouts. An estimated 40 per cent of Australian names were called on to pay between $50,000 and $300,000 initially (and later some people up to $500,000) to cover Lloyd’s liabilities.

Australia had about 600 Lloyd’s names including federal politicians, business leaders, judges, Queen’s Counsels and many gentleman farmers. In New Zealand 101 names were pursued for A$40 million. In Britain more than 60 Conservative Members of Parliament were Lloyd’s names as well as business leaders and minor royalty.

Many did not understand what they had signed up for and suffered heavy losses. Some individuals were forced to liquidate assets and family businesses, or were declared bankrupt.

Under the terms of their contracts, names were unable to pursue legal action outside Britain and attempts for individual cases to be heard in Australian courts were unsuccessful. However, pursuing legal action in Britain was also problematic as an Act of Parliament provided Lloyd’s with an extraordinary degree of immunity.

In 1995 a settlement was proposed to the membership to write off debts and restore the market. This was then reconstructed. Today the overwhelming majority of Lloyd’s capital is supplied by companies with individual members in the minority.

Bunty Avieson was born and raised in Victoria. She worked for twenty years as a journalist on newspapers and magazines in Australia and Britain. She was editor of
Woman's Day
and editorial director of 
New Idea
, winning three Magazine Publishers Association awards. She is also a Williamson Fellow (1999).

In 2000 Bunty took up fiction writing full-time. Her first novel 
Apartment 255
 was a bestseller in Australia and Germany. This is her second novel.

Apartment
 
255

The Wrong Door