Saving the Starlight Ch. 03

Property developer Fenton Murdoch wasn't his usual casual self early on Saturday evening. He was on edge, very much like he'd been during the wait for news of the acceptance or rejection of his tender to buy the cinema property.

Fenton preferred being in control at all times but was astute enough to pinpoint the cause as being a certain female.

Trying on the third jacket in front of the mirror he accepted he was experiencing something unusual for him: woman problem.

Now the jacket looked right but the trousers looked wrong. Why was he fiddling? He didn't have to answer that one. She was probably at the house now, trying to weasel from her father everything he knew about Fenton.

Looking anxiously at his watch, resisting temptation to check it again seconds later, Fenton grasped the solution: he set off without a jacket and began walking to fill in time that was timed for his to arrive two minutes early. Brilliant, he chuckled. Wouldn't Liberty be impressed by his punctuality?

Striding along the sidewalk, shoulders back, chest out and belly pulled back tight as a drum, Fenton felt like a man on a mission. If he failed to end up kissing Liberty that evening it would be devastating to his ego but such a blip would just not going to happen. In either hand he carried gifts, predictable gifts; he knew that but that didn't faze him.

Walking up the steps to the impressive Wentworth home, Fenton was picturing his arrival: the housekeeper would open the door, welcome him brightly, calling him Fenton as she would have been briefed. She'd take him to the drawing room where Paul would be standing by the fire, hands behind his back, smiling, partly obscuring someone dressed in a long white frilly dress...

He thought fire? It's summer dummy and rather than a ball gown she'll be wearing something far less formal...

At that point he gave up on speculation and remembered he had something he needed to buy - oh yes a can of shaving gel.

The door opened when Fenton was only just arriving on the landing and a curly haired woman in a pink strapless dressed rushed forward and kissed him on the cheek and stepped back before he really knew what was happening. Where was the housekeeper?

"Uh hi Liberty."

"The flowers, are the flowers for me?" she asked, clapping her hands.

Dumbly Fenton handed them over.

She cooed "Oh, how sweet. Aren't you going to kiss me?"

Bang, bang went Fenton's mind, mentally head-butting a wall. Impress her!

Unhurriedly he drew Liberty to him, flexing his arms hoping she'd feel comfort in their power. Her head tilted, her lips parted and she looked deeply at him, neither of them blinking. As he bent forward her eyelids closed with infinite charm, flipping his heart. Never before had he watched eyelids close like shutters.

Time stood still.

"Liberty?" boomed a deep male voice, as if anxious to know where she was.

Fenton brushed his lips against hers. That incredible moment lasted but a second.

"Coming daddy," she called, turning toward the open door. "Fenton is kissing me."

Fenton smiled, indicating he was not embarrassed. He wasn't at all concerned about Paul, the only thing that mattered was Liberty; their relationship, although developing, seemed wafer thin.

"Sorry," she laughed looking coy. "I was tempted to say that to him, so I did. A little naughtiness resides within me."

"Hallelujah for that," replied Fenton, bringing a flush to her cheeks.

Fenton took the hand held out to him and was led though the entrance hall, through the library and out under a canvas canopy beside the pool. Candles were on the table ready to be lit at dusk; the early evening was already stilled.

"Kissing my daughter, eh, you scoundrel Fenton."

"It was the lips, Paul - slightly parted like red rose petals; I found them irresistible."

"Well said, young man. I have pleasure in introducing my housekeeper, who shall be dining with us tonight. Mrs Matson this is a new client of mine, Fenton Murdoch. You would have heard about him earlier this evening with my daughter rabbiting on about him."

"In connection with the save the cinema campaign I am sure," Fenton said smoothly. "Good evening Mrs Matson."

She made no effort to move forward. She was very attractive, in her mid-thirties with beautiful long blonde hair. Her figure was hidden in loose clothing of a quality rather expensive-looking for a housekeeper, but Fenton assumed it concealed an all-round chubbiness to match her chin. It he had to guess he'd say she was keeping a sparkling personality under wraps.

As he finished his brief appraisal Paul was already at his side handing him a flute of champagne.

"Well to good company," said Paul, raising his glass and everyone replied happily.

The outdoors table was far too wide for Fenton to play knees but during some pontificating from Paul he stretched out his leg and his shoe scraped Trinity's leg. She looked startled and clearly she went to grab his foot, but wasn't fast enough.

Trinity listened in absolute delight as Fenton explained the engineering appraisal about to begin on the cinema property was an attempt to find an engineering solution that would allow the cinema to be retained and incorporated intact within the new structure while retaining as much as its distinctive architectural individuality as possible.

"Oh that's absolutely wonderful!" Trinity exclaimed when Fenton finished speaking. "I'll have to reward you for that."

Fenton fixed his eyes on his food, not daring to look up. He wondered if the startled older couple would see his burning ears in the candlelight. He'd jumped to conclusion about what reward Trinity had in mind. Had the other two listeners interpreted the remark less reactively? He hoped so.

Eventually it was time to go. Mrs Matson came up to him and said, "Goodnight Fenton."

It was just an impression but Fenton thought she looked to be a very happy woman for a closet mistress.

Paul shook hands at the door and slapped him on the back, which was a relief. Not only had his daughter made a super-charged comment at the table but now had insisted on driving Fenton home, saying quite unabashed that it was on her way home ' when everyone knew they both lived within easy walking distance from Paul's home.

"Have fun, kids," Paul grinned and Fenton took that as being parental approval.

As they were driving off Trinity asked: "You have a vehicle, why didn't you drive here tonight."

"When I drink I don't drive - that is, if I plan properly."

"I've had quite a lot to drink, but I am confident I am within the limit because it was over a long period and I only drank with food."

"Trinity it's not worth the risk of being caught right on the limit, or just over it. Drop me off at your place and I'll walk."

"What gentlemanly consideration. Thank you."

They were in her small blue and black 4X4, a vehicle that seemed just right for a modern, confident and professional young woman. She reached across and patted his arm; he caught the hand and held it briefly.

"Hmm."

That reaction from her pleased him.

"Here we are," she said, opening the basement garage door with a remote, driving in and closing the door.

What was going on? He'd expected to be dropped off at the sidewalk.

"Come up for very late supper."

"Is this...?"

"Yes."

"Are you sure?"

"Very and it's no spur of the moment thing. You earned this moment for looking at my legs - no, staring at my legs at that hearing. Initially I was cross with you, but thinking back moments later I concluded your look expressed admiration rather than lust; that was quite unexpected. Are you coming, or are we spending all night sitting here in the garage?"

"All night?"

"If that's what you want."

At the stair Trinity stepped aside to allow him to pass. He shook his head. "You first, I want to see those legs."

Halfway up as they climbed in silence she suddenly grabbed the back hem of her dress with both hands and lifted it up. "Is that better?"

Fenton's voice thickened, "Very much better. Wow!"

She giggled and wriggled her ass and pulled her dress down to end that provocative tease.

"I trust you weren't shocked, I behave a little sluttish at times when I become aroused. But at all other times my behaviour is exemplary."

"I quite believe that," said Fenton, wondering how far she was prepared to go with him that evening.

If he walked away within minutes, and his effort to help save the cinema turned sour, little harm would be done: she'd simply think he was a bastard and fight until she and her buddies had to admit defeat.

But if he went to bed with her and the project turned to custard she'd feel betrayed; he wouldn't want that to happen because she might turn out to be the one he should take to the altar. It was time he was happily married and planning and real future.

She turned at the top of the narrow stairway, face flushed.

"Trinity."

That's all he said but he saw her eyes widen. Being a bright lady she'd caught his tone and his face mapped his as yet unexpressed concern.

"You want to say no?"

Fenton smiled, scratching behind his ear and then reaching for her hand, watching her body language that rejected engagement but then that was over-ruled; she took his hand.

"We're racing into this too fast for my comfort. I'd prefer to go slowly and see what develops. I'm sorry, but that's how I feel; this is no one-night-stand for me. Believe me, you impress me greatly Trinity."

"My that's some speech. I'd just assumed you wanted my body like other men. It hadn't occurred to me you had higher thoughts about me. I'll walk with you to the gate. My head is in a whirl."

They kissed deeply, and Fenton indicated sexual attraction existed by fondling a breast but without burrowing for it.

"Hmm."

That was a sound of hers he really liked.

As arranged, as soon as he was in bed he phoned her and after a gentle conversation they exchanged good nights with real warmth.

* * *

A mild and as yet unleashed romantic attachment developed between Trinity and Fenton. They lunched most days, on the beachfront when fine and not too windy and during the next week they went twice to the movies in the modern duplexes of small theatres with extremely comfortable seats, brilliant sound and screen but lacking entirely in grand old theatre ambience.

Trinity invited Fenton to dinner at her apartment on Saturday night. She'd told him that as he knew Sally Tucker she would invite her and real estate agent husband Bryce.

Later engineer consultant Alex Robinson's son Gavin called, inviting Fenton to a meeting early next Monday morning.

"I'll be the bearer of not great news I'm afraid," said the young engineer who was Trinity's cousin.

Because of that gloomy hint, Fenton's heart sank.

He took a call from Sally, who'd been the save the cinema campaign organiser advising she had been elected president of the campaign group that now would apply to become an incorporated society to provide greater accountability as the organization proposed to raise a large amount of money from businesses and the public while at the same time qualifying as a charitable trust to avoid being liable for taxation.

Sally sat opposite Fenton at the table on Saturday and during the meal managed to stretch out and drop a heel on to his crutch. Catching Sally's eye he held up his steak knife, feeling the point with his thumb, and grinning at her evilly.

Sally's foot was withdrawn, fast.

After the Tucker's left, Trinity led Fenton to the sofa where they kissed and she stroked massaging his chest as they kissed and their tongues touched.

As soon as he began unbuttoning her shirt Fenton realized she was not wearing a bra - an amazing feat for someone who'd been wearing one when saying goodnight to her other visitors because he'd felt the outline of it when placing his arm around her; he'd not been aware she'd been out of his sight after that.

They both looked at her bared breasts with satisfaction.

"Top shelf in shape, not too large," he said authoritatively.

"I know."

"Hmm," he murmured, licking round a nipple.

They did not progress from there.

Monday's meeting was held in Alex's office.

"I can confirm the demolition order was totally justified; the building is rubble waiting to collapse," Gavin said.

"We're disappointed also," sympathised Alex. "Trinity and friends will be heartbroken."

Fenton tapped his fingers on the table. "Is there no way out?"

Gavin looked at his mother, who nodded. He pushed a sketch of a building façade across to Fenton who studied it.

"Not bad, in fact I like it. So what's the catch?"

"Price tag," Alex said. "This solution would be an absolute budget blowout."

"By about how much?"

"Perhaps we could scrape in just under $2,000,000."

"Just to save a shonky cinema?"

That forced Alex to reveal her softer side.

"Fenton I went to the Starlight when I was a kid, and so did Gavin and his older siblings."

Fenton responded without looking at Alex who now looked a little shaky, hauling back in those old memories.

"What is the proposed design solution?"

Gavin said "We could crib a bit of the cinema space by totally replacing the eastern boundary wall with a new wall built two metres in. That would allow incoming vehicle from Main Street to access up to the next level for parking for your tenants and clients, storage and some building services. The exit ramp would take vehicles into Marine Parade."

"Through some crafty juggling we can do this without any change to the width of the cinema auditorium. The passenger and freight lifts will be on the other side of the cinema, which is an established walkway. Mum?"

"Roof structures are my specialty. The curved exposed beams in the cinema can remain only for show once repaired, and of course to continue to be an integral part of the entire star-light ceiling, which is the only thing about the auditorium worth saving. It was built in the 1930s and is classic Art Deco. That explains the Art Deco façade in our sketch."

"We propose strengthening the existing side western exterior wall as opposed to rebuilding it to save the fresco work on the interior of that wall, hopefully without too much damage to the plaster fresco. We have the opinion of an art authority who is prepared to report that the artwork if left in situ would have a fair market value for the purposes of insurance in excess of $200,000. Indeed she was surprised it wasn't already listed as a national treasure."

"The design incorporates the top of the the curved beams into a new ceiling that becomes part of the floor of the car park above the cinema."

"We are sad about the huge cost overrun. If that option had looked economic, the finished building would have resumed resuscitated life as a notable classic building in this country and no doubt Gavin would have walked away with our profession's premier building design reconstruction award next year."

The engineers looked at Fenton.

He sighed and said, "Well, that's canned that project. We demolish and build as intended. I'll sign the design contract with you as soon as demolition is substantially underway."

"We've very sorry Fenton," Alex said.

"Thanks. That's how the cookie crumbles I supposed. I'm not looking forward to talking this through with your niece. She'll be devastated."

* * *

Solidly-built Fenton Murdoch sat in front of Trinity Wentworth's desk at Neighbourhood Law and the young lawyer listened with growing alarm at Fenton gave her the bad news, her mouth remaining rigidly closed until he finished.

"Is that all, is that all you have to say - you're just walking away from the problem!" she screamed. "What a despicable thing to do!"

Deciding to let her vent her anger, Fenton sat muted.

A receptionist rushed in, asking Trinity if everything was all right.

"You've really hurt me," she moaned.

Fenton watched the receptionist rush out without realizing she'd misinterpreted the situation.

In hurried a big lawyer who attempted to seize Fenton around the arms and lock him against the back of the chair.

The colleague called, "Run Trinity, run. The cops are coming!"

Another lawyer rushed in and stuck his palm against Fenton's chin, attempting to help keep him restrained and ignored Trinity's shout to leave Fenton alone.

Fenton roared, and hooking his feet under the bottom lip of Trinity's heavy desk pushed backwards, crashing on to his back and also tumbling the other men to the floor.

As Fenton regained his feet he was thumped in the side of his face by the big lawyer and kicked in the thigh by the smaller guy.

This was just like old times for Fenton, brawling on job sites or in Sydney pubs in earlier days. The code was, 'Be last Man Standing'.

A backhander across the mouth sent the smaller lawyer across the room, where he slumped against the wall, blood streaming between his teeth. The big guy bounced a partly deflected right on to Fenton ribs above his heart which slowed the property developer momentarily, allowing the attacker to sink a left into Fenton's midriff.

But then he was done - a brutal jab straight over his heart saw him collapse to his knees and fall face forward on to the carpet.

Fenton heard Trinity say shrilly, "Have you killed him?"

"Nah he's taking a short nap. Stroppy lawyers you work with," Fenton replied, dabbing blood from his knuckle grazed cheek.

The receptionist returned cautiously accompanied by an older woman - either a solicitor or perhaps office manager.

"Whatever has happened here," said the older woman nervously. "My God, you've put away 'Rumble' Reid, the enforcer in his rugby football team; he'll never live this down."

"Fenton," cried Trinity, rushing to him. "You're hurt."

"Just a graze, I'm out of practice at blocking punches."

The Reid fellow groaned and Fenton him to his feet just as three policemen, two with batons drawn, burst into the room.

The woman sergeant calmed everyone down and asked for the facts.

The elderly woman, who identified herself as the practice manager, pointed at Fenton and said, "I want this man arrested for disturbing the peace. Complaints of assault, damage to property and possibly of being a danger to the public are likely to follow."

One of the constables took Fenton by the arm, saying, "Come with me mate; there's a cell waiting for you."

Fenton looked at Trinity for help.

"Trinity?"

She just stood and looked at him blankly without saying a word.

Two hours later Fenton was released from his cell.

"All complaints have been withdrawn and we are satisfied with Miss Wentworth's statement that she was reacting to some very bad news and her reaction was misinterpreted by her colleagues. It has also been established that you accepted being restrained without resistance until you were punched. You are free to go. No charges will be laid."

Fenton went over to Trinity and apologised for his part in the rumpus.

"Thank you, but now please go. I never wish to talk to you socially again. I shall see you in Court on Friday week.

Fenton called on Paul Wentworth to explain the distress he'd caused Trinity.

"She's fine about it. Joss Reid, the big fellow you dropped, was so embarrassed at being decked as it's never happened to him before and he's rather proud of being the team's 'disciplinarian' on the field known as the enforcer. I'm just sorry it's over between you and Trinity virtually before it started."

Fenton told Paul it was only over as far as Trinity was concerned, that he was not giving up. His mother had told him that it sometimes pays to give women time to 'get over things'.

"Look, join us at golf in the morning and have lunch with us - we had roped in Stan Gill to make up the four. You can replace Joey who wasn't too keen to play because he wanted to work on his boat. I'll phone him right now and then I'll take you down to the club for a drink if you care to join me."