CHAPTER
31
CHAPTER
31
Claudia sat calmly and smiled at Thomas and Andrew as they paced the room anxiously. Thomas noticed her looking at them and snapped, 'What?'
‘You guys look like a couple of expectant fathers. Why don't you take a seat and just relax’.
'Relax. You must be joking. EcoLogic, this is about to be attacked by every bloody politician in the country and you want me to relax. I feel like I'm waiting for the friggin’ firing squad to arrive.' Andrew sat and immediately stood up again. 'How can you just sit there?’ he demanded, ‘Have you been popping Valium or something?' He challenged Claudia.
'The way I see it, pacing up and down isn't going to change anything, so why not just sit quietly and try to prepare for the questions that will fly as soon as the press conference starts.' Claudia shrugged and sighed.
The Prime Minister's door swung open, and his assistant invited them in. 'Well this is it folks', Andrew said, 'make sure your hard hats are properly secured.'
'Come in. Come in.' Jack Hepburn greeted them warmly, 'my, you do look a sorry lot. Sit down and let's see if we can't put a smile on those serious faces.' he said. They sat opposite him; no one spoke. 'Has there been a national disaster that someone forgot to tell me about? He joked.
'Sorry sir. We're just a bit worried about the press conference.' Claudia said, trying hard to sound confident.
'Press conferences, God don't let them get to you. Just think of them as a media circus; clowns jumping through hoops. Everyone trying to sound intelligent; but rarely succeeding.' He laughed, 'Just stick to the script, and when anyone tries to nail you down, just say that for legal reasons, you're not at liberty to discuss the matter at the moment.'
His assistant buzzed to say they were due in the press room in two minutes. 'We'd better get going. Remember, you don't have to say anything you don't want to. Smile at everyone and don't forget that it will all be over in fifteen minutes. That's three minutes for my press secretary to make the opening remarks, then three minutes for me to say my bit; so that only leaves three minutes for each of you.’ That made them feel better; what could happen in three minutes? Not a lot for them to worry about.
Solomon Bellingham couldn’t have been happier. Finally the PM had gotten off his arse and gone public with the relocation stuff. Now he could get things happening. As soon as the tender contracts were ready he could sit back, relax and wait for his bank account to start kicking into high gear. He had already decided his future. As soon as the money was in the bank he was off to the States to buy a half share in a water filtration company that manufactured stand-alone plants for bore pumps. The company had been operating for five years and it was set to become a multimillion dollar trader once people left their coastal homes and moved to more isolated inland regions. Life looked sweet and Bellingham was ready to grab it with both hands and run with it.
There was no one in the office when he arrived, so he phoned Danieli Travioli. ‘Hi Travioli. How the hell are you? No doubt you caught the PM’s press conference.’
‘Sure did Sol. I guess that means we’re ready to roll.’
‘Absolutely. I’ll be placing the tender announcements today and the specifications should be ready in a week.’
‘A week? That’s quick.’
‘Not when you’ve had them sitting in the drawer for a month. They’re ready to go. The week is just a formality. We wouldn’t want people to think we completed them prior to the press conference, now would we?’ he chuckled.
‘No way. We don’t want anyone thinking you’re into shonky dealing Sol.’ Danieli said sarcastically.
‘Jacob will contact all our A grade contractors and advise them the tenders will be published in all the major print media. It’s a sort of courtesy thing.’ he said, ‘and it will cover our arses.’ He added.
‘Good. Then I’ll look forward to the formal advice. I’d hate to miss the advertisements when they’re published.’ Danieli said.
‘As if that’s going to happen’, Bellingham argued, ‘Look I must go, we’ll talk more soon.’
‘Sure, soon. See you Sol. You have a great day now.’
‘Oh I will.’
Bellingham replaced the phone but continued to sit at his desk. He allowed his mind to wander for a while. After thirty years of politics he hated everything about it. He hated the people he worked with, he hated his colleagues, but mostly he hated the constituents. They were all ungrateful bastards who treated dedicated people like himself as if they were the scum of the earth. Sure there had been a time when he believed in what he did, but thirty years had shown him that to succeed in life you had to look out for number one. Putting others first didn’t work. He thought about his wife Sandra. Now there was a perfect example of one totally selfish and self-centred human being. He and Sandra had been married for twenty-three years, yet he couldn’t remember one week of happiness during that time. They shared a house and a bank account, but little else.
Sandra had her life, he had his, and the arrangement suited them both perfectly. He didn’t ask her how she spent her time and she didn’t really care how he spent his. One day was his private mantra. One day, he would walk away from everything; Sandra, their house, politics, the lot. And one day he’d find the happiness he knew he deserved. One day he would do what he wanted, and he’d be answerable to no one. One day he would let himself feel emotions again.
He knew he was still capable of them, because he remembered a couple of times when he felt them trying to burst out, and he knew how hard it was to keep them in their cage. But one day he would let the animal out, and there would be no looking back. He smiled to himself and said 'One day,' out loud.
‘One day what?’ Jason asked, as he walked into the office.
‘One day life will be great.’ Bellingham drummed his fingers on the desk.
‘Now get to work and get those tender advertisements happening. We don’t want any delays throwing a spanner in the works.’
‘I’ll be on it in five. Just let me grab a coffee and it will be done.’ Jason said and went out to his own office, where he removed his jacket and poured a coffee from the machine. He turned on his computer and accessed the tender files. He prepared the advertisement then emailed a copy to the three major newspapers for inclusion in the next edition and the two following ones. It won’t be long now he said to himself, before the shit hits the fan. He felt a tingle of excitement. Finally he would be able to put the stress behind him. And take control of his life again. The ads would bring the nightmare he’d been living to a close. He sighed and relaxed for the first time in months.