Pallisder nodded as he looked at the glossy presentation promoting the joint venture between the two men. ‘Good work. I’ll have my marketing team send you some up-to-date material for that promotional film too – we sent a film crew up there last week to do some aerial shots from a helicopter, you know, the sweeping camera angles over a fully loaded coal train – good for the Australian economy, the usual messages.’
Walking over to a mahogany cabinet, Delaney picked up two crystal tumblers and a decanter. ‘Drink?’
‘Make it a large one. Apparently the traffic’s backed up all the way to the Bribie exit so there’s no point leaving town for another hour. Lucy will kill me for being late again,’ said Pallisder.
Delaney carried the drinks over and sat in the opposite armchair. He chuckled. ‘I do believe you’re officially under her thumb.’ He handed a glass to the other man and raised his in a toast. ‘To plans going well.’
Stephen raised his glass in salute and took a large sip. ‘Is my investment safe?’
Delaney nodded. ‘Just checking on that academic pain in the ass, Peter Edgewater, over in the UK – remember I said he was doing that lecture tour and starting to point the finger our way?’
Pallisder nodded and gestured for Delaney to continue.
‘I’ve got someone having a word with him today. The previous warning we gave him didn’t work so we’re putting the pressure on.’
‘Perhaps I could get your man to do some work for me.’
‘How many coal trains were stopped this week?’
Pallisder glowered. ‘Three. If I could tell the drivers to run the fuckers over, I would, but the press probably wouldn’t report it sympathetically.’
Delaney laughed ruefully. ‘True. I’ll let you know when he’s back here.’
Pallisder lowered his feet, leaned forward, and picked up the brochure from the table in front of him. ‘Who’s going to be at this conference?’
‘The usual suspects. I’ve spoken to our marketing team at length and they’re fully aware of what we expect from them. A good, concise counter-offensive against those idiots.’ He nodded over his shoulder in the general direction of the protestors outside. ‘We’ll hit them hard with our protestors campaigning against emissions trading – the usual message, it’s a stealth tax, jobs will be lost, clean coal technology is a better alternative, blah, blah, blah.’
Pallisder leaned back and looked hard at Delaney. ‘I had a phone call from another Federal minister yesterday. I’ve agreed to maintain my campaign contributions to him on the understanding he continues to lobby for the coal industry here in Australia.’
Delaney nodded. ‘That’s good. Most of them don’t understand the science of it all anyway – as long as we keep lining their pockets, they’ll do as they’re told.’
Pallisder laughed. ‘Yeah – heaven forbid they lose the vote and have to get a real job.’
Delaney looked up as the phone on his desk began to ring. Standing up, he glanced at Pallisder. ‘Excuse me.’
Pallisder shrugged and gestured to Delaney to take the call. The men had few secrets between them – both had built up their empires over the years through hard graft, hard-fought deals and a close relationship between a mining empire which spanned Australia, the UK and Eastern Europe, and a railroad organisation which owned and leased half the routes in Australia, with financial interests in Europe and South Africa.
Delaney walked over to the desk and picked up the phone. He put his hand over the receiver, and said to Pallisder. ‘It’s Charles.’
Pallisder nodded, got up and wandered over to the decanter to top up his glass.
Delaney turned back to the phone. ‘I trust it went well?’ He fell silent and listened to Charles’s report, then hissed as he leaned against the desk. ‘I want it sorted now. Call me when it’s done, not before. I have to present at the conference next week and I want this sorted out by the time I leave.’
As he slammed the phone down, Delaney looked around the office at the framed photographs with himself, prime ministers, international dignitaries, soccer players and rock stars. No way was he letting anyone take this away from him. Not now.
‘Problem?’ asked Pallisder, as he eased himself back into his armchair.
Delaney sat on the edge of his desk. ‘No, not really. Just protecting your investment.’
Pallisder chuckled. ‘Good man.’
Chapter 5
Oxford, England
Aaron Hughes was already in trouble. An hour late, with his mobile phone battery dead, he cycled back home as fast as he could. His mum would kill him. An hour ago, she’d have received the message from the school to say he’d dodged the extra classes she insisted on sending him to during the holidays while she worked. Now the weak winter sun was already beginning to set.
He couldn’t help it – the new computer game had been released on Monday and Jack Mills had managed to persuade his parents to buy him a copy straight away as an early birthday present. Within four hours, the two boys had reached level six before Aaron had realised what the time was and left his friend’s house.
He turned onto Saint Cross Road, cycled past the college buildings and debated the shortcut through the fields and over the River Cherwell. Already in trouble, it wouldn’t matter if his clothes got dirty and mud spattered, but the river bank with its tree-covered weed-strewn tributaries was a bit creepy at the best of times, he’d be the first to admit.
Yet, it was a shortcut to Old Marston and at the moment, he needed all the help he could get. He turned right on to the dirt track behind the college playing fields and changed down a gear.
Aaron slowed his bike and looked over his shoulder. From past experience, he knew he’d be through the fields and back in suburbia within fifteen minutes – if he could only stop his imagination from working overtime.