Dark Oil by Nora James Read Free Book Online Page B

to move to a smaller house, in a less affluent suburb, they could reduce their debt. They’d then be able to live well off one wage. If only he were ready to start a family, she could finally live the life she’d dreamed of for years. A child to cuddle, a family to look after, was all she really wanted. She didn’t care about designer clothing, expensive cars and huge homes. It was just more to worry about. A sea change, a simpler life was what she needed. But Tim wasn’t ready. Tim was never ready. Every year she talked about the pitter-patter of tiny feet and Tim said he wanted to wait. He always found a good reason to hold off—they had to pay the mortgage, if they held onto the house its value would go up substantially over the next twelve months. Then they needed a new car because he certainly wasn’t going to drive a five year old model. They needed a trip overseas. All his colleagues were going away for Christmas and Easter and. . .No, Tim was never ready. And so to work Lara went. But now was not the time to think of Tim. In just fifteen minutes she would be whisked off to a government meeting and she would have to show them all what a high-flying lawyer she’d become. As her tired legs climbed the stairs, a knot formed in her stomach. Would she be able to perform under these conditions in the heat, with hardly any sleep, after thirty two hours or so on planes and in airports?
    It wasn’t going to be easy, but what could she do? It was too late to step down, too late to refuse the job. There were no options.
    She was here for the ride.

IV
    Lara thought of Tim as she waited in the entrance for her colleagues. Tim, the man she’d never been away from since they’d married ten years ago. That is, except when he’d left her for a night on the town with the boys, or a fishing trip, or his frequent business trips. But she had never left him and somehow that felt different.
    Tim’s secretary’s voice spoke to Lara again. “He often works from home.” Could she trust him? Of course she could. She kept telling herself so, wanting to believe it. She imagined him checking his watch, asking himself what time it was in Negala, what Lara would be doing. Yes, he’d be thinking of her, wondering if she’d arrived safely—or would he be asleep?
    She was busy counting the time difference when Jack arrived. He had changed into a suit of the finest material and she couldn’t help admiring it. He had matched it with a green silk tie that brought out the colour of his eyes. He certainly knew how to dress.
    He held out a phone, glancing discreetly but with obvious appreciation at Lara’s clothes. “The mobile we said you could have while you’re here. It works. Well, sometimes. I’ve entered Martin’s number and mine in the contacts. You look the part, by the way.”
    She slid the mobile into her pocket. “Thanks. So do you.” She’d changed into a tailored, long-sleeved, grey dress—not black, black was associated with mourning in too many places—– and pearls. You couldn’t go wrong with those in any country.
    Martin appeared in a navy suit that clung to his thin legs and failed to hide his bulging stomach. He, on the other hand, could do with some grooming lessons. Mind you, they were not there for a fashion parade and she didn’t really care about his personal presentation. If only he were a little more pleasant, more approachable.
    Lara noticed he was carrying his laptop. “Do I need my computer? I didn’t think I would.”
    Martin shook his head. “No. One’s enough, just in case we need to type up minutes or something like that.”
    â€œReady?” Jack directed his question at the group.
    â€œI was hoping to quickly call my husband, let him know I’m OK. A one minute call, I promise.” Lara looked at Martin.
    He turned away. “It’ll have to wait. We need