THE telephone service was out of order.
‘Out of order?’ Marcus had his people contact the telecommunications authorities in Australia, only to be told that the fault had been reported as non-urgent. The people concerned had cellphones. And no, he couldn’t obtain those numbers, no matter how much he paid.
He knew Ruby’s cellphone number. She had it turned off. She’d sent a fax from the local post office saying she’d decided to take a month off and learn how to milk cows.
Ruby was milking cows while Marcus was…
Marcus was earning money. Launching a new range of Internet software. Ruling his empire.
Doing what he always did.
‘How long can silence last?’ Peta asked and Ruby paused from her first attempt at milking a cow.
‘As long as it takes. Be patient.’
‘I can’t.’
‘You can.’
Two weeks. Three.
Marcus took a lunchtime stroll down to Tiffany’s. He spent a long time staring at the jewel cases and in the end chose a single diamond. Perfect. Flawless. Worth a king’s ransom.
He insured it for another king’s ransom and sent it courier.
‘To my Cinderella,’ the card read. ‘Please reconsider.’
By return courier came a small box containing the diamond and something else. A withered daisy chain.
‘I’m not Cinderella. I’m just me. I love you, Marcus. But I don’t want your diamonds.’
Nothing else.
He stared at the note for a long time. So long that his temporary assistant grew nervous.
‘Are you okay, Mr Benson?’
‘I’m fine,’ he told her, his face grim. He handed over the diamond. ‘Can you arrange to have this returned?’
‘Oh, Mr Benson…’ The girl looked down at the diamond and let out her breath on an ecstatic sigh. ‘Oh, Mr Benson, any woman would die for a diamond like this.’
‘Not my woman,’ he said before he could stop himself. ‘Not the woman I love.’
‘Are you sure?’
It was the end of three long weeks and Peta was still staring out at the moon every night. Somewhere under this moon was Marcus. Alone.
‘He has to see,’ Ruby told her. ‘He has to have time to realise what he’s missing.’ She gave a rueful smile. ‘It took me more than twenty years to learn to love again. Let’s hope Marcus can do it faster.’
‘And if he doesn’t?’
‘Then we panic,’ Ruby told her. ‘But not yet. There’s things we can do.’
Marcus was in a meeting when the next delivery arrived. His secretary interrupted him with apologies. ‘But you did ask me to let you know if anything came from Australia.’
Two boxes were waiting.
The first box contained Peta’s wedding dress. Satin, lace, matching shoes, ribbons from her hair. Regardless of the curious eyes of his office staff, Marcus lifted it out. He could smell the perfume she’d worn that day. There was a small note.
‘Thank you for the fairytale.’
‘There’s another box,’ his secretary told him, obviously agog to see what it held.
He took a grip-sort of-and opened the second box.
It was a pair of gumboots. His size. And another note.
‘Reality is more fun.’
He set the gumboots down on the gleaming mahogany desk. Ridiculous.
Fun?
Ridiculous.
The time dragged. He put the gumboots and the wedding dress in the top of his closet and left them there. The concept of him ever needing either again was crazy!
He dated again. Or he tried to date again. The women seemed shallow, pointless, cold.
Peta…
Peta was on the other side of the world.
She’d said she loved him. If she loved him why wouldn’t she take him? he asked himself. On his terms.
Because, a small voice whispered behind his heart, because his terms were…cruel?
What he’d offered was all he was prepared to concede, he thought grimly. To promise more was to promise something that he couldn’t deliver.
Coward, he told himself.
But to take the next step…
To take another step was impossible.
Ruby contacted him at the end of the month. For a moment he couldn’t believe he was hearing right, and then he excused himself from his meeting and locked himself in his office to take the call where he could concentrate.
‘Ruby. Where the hell are you?’
‘Where you should be,’ she informed him cheerfully. ‘Here. In Australia. Having a really good time.’
‘You’re my employee.’
‘Not any more. I quit. Darrell’s asked me to marry him.’
Silence. He thought of his clinical, efficient assistant who in the years he’d employed her had never let her personal life interfere with her work. She’d never had a personal life!
She was marrying his dour, scarred sergeant?
‘He’s lovely,’ Ruby said in a voice he hardly recognised. ‘You know he is. And we’ve decided to stay on and help Peta for a while. This farm really needs more than just Peta to run it. Marcus, I can milk!’
‘Peta’s never let you near her cows!’ He couldn’t believe it.
‘It took time to gain their trust,’ Ruby conceded. ‘A month. Darrell and I have been helping to bring the cows in, getting them used to us, learning each one’s name. And now I can put the cups on. I can clean the vats. I know all about mastitis and bacteria counts and swishing down the dairy’s my favourite. Oh, Marcus, it’s so much fun.’
‘But…you belong here.’
‘No. I belong here. Darrell’s here. No one stares at his scarred face here. He’s much better at milking than me. Peta says we can redecorate the pink house and live in it for as long as we want. We’ve both got savings and Darrell’s got his veteran’s pension. We can be really comfortable. We don’t need much here. There’s so much already. We can be really rich-with nothing. Nothing but each other.’
Silence. Marcus sank down on to the desk behind him, aware suddenly that he needed its support.
‘You know that I asked Peta to be married to me?’ he said at last. ‘Properly, I mean.’
‘Are you talking about sending her that darned fool diamond?’
‘It cost a fortune,’ he snapped and from the other side of the world he could hear the smile crossing Ruby’s face.
‘Why would Peta need a ring that cost a fortune?’
‘She said she loves me.’
‘She told me that, too.’
‘So why won’t she marry me?’
‘You didn’t ask her to stay married to you,’ Ruby said softly, her voice growing serious. ‘You know you
