You're Worth Dying For Ch. 04

"Well, that's not my concern. But fifty thou into kitty, that's great."

Jenny looked at her watch and smiled. "That's not all, darling. Last night Geoffrey told me that you are to replace him shortly as chairman of the kiddies' makeover fund. We all are so delighted as having you aboard will bring in a flood of donations, reviving fund-raising momentum. So I've informed all of those booked in for interviews to bring a donation check of at least 1k if they want you to be extra vivacious in answering their questions, which I believe frees me of the tag of being an extortionist."

"My God, Jenny, have you been to bed."

"I managed to sleep for a couple of hours on the sofa in my office."

"Hours -- hours, oh yeah?"

"You're smart enough to know how it is Maggie".

Maggie hit Jenny with an idea. "How long is my time with moneybags from Sydney?

"He's rushing -- only requested kiss and hug time and to allow his grateful daughter to do the same. Ten maximum."

"Right, that gives you almost twenty minutes to rush me on a tour through the kiddies' facilities -- I've never been in their part of the hospital and need to know before I start these interviews: I could learn something to my advantage. It's asking a lot but I'll push you in a wheelchair if required."

"Yes, I'll do that but forget about the wheelchair, girl. Like you I do Pilates but for me add on weights, yoga and swimming."

Mr Charles B Goldfinch swept in to the foyer with his entourage including a PR team with still and a TV style handheld camera with sound and lighting support.

He hugged and kissed Maggie, tears streaming down his face in a real Hollywood performance.

"You saved my baby, thank you Maggie, you wonderful woman."

"Come off it Mr Goldfinch, someone had to do it."

"Why you, then?"

"Because I was there. I stupidly thought I would be in no danger."

"That's not what I've been told. Caroline told my you whispered 'I'm not going to let these bastards shoot you."

Flashlights were off en masse, members of the public and hospital staff had gathered around with their cameras.

Mr Goldfinch took Maggie by the shoulder and turned her to face his camera team.

"Maggie, in appreciation of what you did for the Goldfinch family I present you with this check for $50,000 Australian dollars; that ought to keep you in shoes for quite some time."

People around them applauded and Maggie thanked him and asked if he could counter-sign it, making it payable to the Southgate Hospital Children's Wing Upgrade Appeal.

"Certainly Maggie, I'll find a desk."

Just use my back, Mr Goldfinch.

Cameras flashed and Mr Goldfinch beamed, expecting this picture to be used around Australia and Maggie was wearing a dress with a low-cut front.

Caroline stepped forward and kissed Maggie. "Thank you for my life, Maggie. I must say you are even better than Lara Croft -- you show emotion."

They both burst into tears. Wiping her eyes, Caroline asked how she could reward Maggie.

"Just be my friend, emailing me occasionally. Here's my card and when I'm next in Sydney take me out shopping and buy me a dress with a higher neckline than this one -- I've just been caught on camera showing rather a lot."

"Yes, gladly. Goodbye dear friend. Daddy is giving me the hurry up signs."

As soon as the Goldfinch party was out the doors Jenny took Maggie by the hand and they went through a side door and into a golf cart to the nearby Children's Wing.

"This is quicker than walking," said Jenny and then calling into her phone said, "We're on our way."

That showed her class as a PR professional. Staff who were available, including cleaners and kitchen workers, had lined the entrance and clapped softly as Jenny led Maggie up the steps to introduce her to the medical superintendent Dr Milly Carruthers and chief administrator Sara Wynn.

They toured rapidly, Maggie pausing to speak to some of the pint-sized patients. They finished on schedule and she thanked the two principals, saying, "I've got the picture. Thank you. We'll meet again."

Pointing to the noon slot Maggie asked, "Why has theNZ Herald been allocated one hour, all others half an hour?"

"Don't be cross with me, Maggie, but theHerald is the most influential newspaper in the region. I gather you saw newspapers this morning -- you would have seen their dynamic presentation of the attempted robbery, they threw all resources at that coverage."

"I'm not cross, Jenny. I thought you'd have your reasons and was interested in hearing them. Now, here's what I'd like you to do, speaking as a dedicated fund-raiser."

Maggie told her what she wanted.

"Oh gawd, Maggie -- Carruthers requires appointments. She's really a hard-nosed bitch, a true Scot. Both she and her husband came to us from Dumfries three years ago.

"Don't worry, just ask; she likes me as I saw it in here eyes."

The visit including lunch was arranged.

Rita Cousins, who appeared to Maggie to be of Maori descent came up smiling broadly and holding a rose which she gave to Maggie, introducing herself and her photographer.

"Rita, I wish to take you and Kevin on a tour of the Children's Wing, you interviewing me as we go. Is that acceptable?"

"Certainly -- I came expecting the unexpected from you. Are we at war, coming from a rival newspaper?"

Maggie drew on her Number Two smile. "Certainly not, our respective companies are hard-nosed commercial rivals attempting to screw out extra bucks at each other's expense."

"May I quote you on that?"

Rita was told that nothing Maggie said was off the record.

Dr Carruthers met them on the steps.

"Ah, the south of Scotland perhaps?"

"Yes Rita. Have you visited?"

"Aye, I was contracted to the Tourist Board for six months during a working holiday."

"I'm from Dumfries and Galloway."

"I spent a couple of days there with a photographer doing a big feature on the Mull of Galloway for one of the board's American clients. I loved the wild and spectacular landscapes and the memory of that memorable entry drive to Castle Kennedy Garden."

"Well you three, walk where you wish but no photographs of any patient to be published without my consent -- go where you wish and be at cubicle 11 at 12:30 to join some little ones for lunch."

The tour/interview was delightfully interrupted by lunch with four bed-bound children with mild spinal problems who liked the two pretty visitors and wondered if Kevin the bearded 20-something photographer was Dr Carruther's father.

Maggie talked about how she suspected yesterday's dramatic experience and realization earlier that she'd almost sold out on the community, colleagues and indeed her own beloved husband in selfishly being focused in fuelling her own ambitions was launching her into a new direction, though she was cautious about jumping to definite conclusions.

"Like many of my generation, I have no real sense of community. Why is this so? I suspect we were reared to become takers because our parents were mostly amid a new era of national prosperity that began way back in the l950s and continues to this day. The two generations before us suffered at least one World War and hardship as a result of national economic depression. For a time even after the Second World War there was the threat generated by the so-called Cold War. The tragedy is many of us are unable to recognize we were blessed; we remain takers and the children of my generation are unwittingly being encouraged to continue the trend, though there will be exceptions of course." After lunch Maggie spoke positively about becoming a giver and a taker, not just a taker. She was beginning to look at her community with new eyes and marveled at the way opportunities were beginning to present themselves. She then discussed at length with Rita being gifted the chairmanship of the Children's Wing fundraising trust.

"I don't have children yet; this is going to be my baby and I intend devoting every afternoon of my working week, where possible, pumping up the effort of our fund-raising machine. We may not get there in my term as chairman but who cares, so long as during my term we've generated real momentum. Auckland can expect to see innovation and seductive hard-selling but not without fun and the acquisition of feel-good. Just watch this space, as they say. Really watch it, I say."

"That's it guys, Jenny said. "We have other people waiting."

Early evening Jenny rushed Maggie to a shower room and went two levels up to collect Maggie's make-up kit and little black dress, black shoes and change of underwear that was waiting on Maggie's bed.

They raced to the foyer, Maggie cutting time by not bothering with her make-up, saying they'd have their own make-up woman. They did, or rather a make-up man -- fat and a little smelly as he was a smoker but his fingers danced around her face and in combing and fixing her hair with the skill of a top professional. They scarcely spoke and the director was standing over him saying, "Hurry, hurry."

Jenny hurried up to Maggie and whispered, "A bit of a problem -- the interviewer is not Rosalind Weir -- she's been replaced by her head of production, Ross Clancy, who used to be front man five or six years ago. He fancies himself so watch him.

The interview began with Ross asking how Maggie's husband's condition was after his gunshot.

"Slowly improving thank you; he is expected to make a full recovery but understandably with a collapsed lung and a bullet hole right through his chest he's not in a comfortable state right now."

"Then why are you here instead of being up with him?"

"I have seen him four times today and not five minutes ago was told he was peacefully asleep. Is there some problem with that?"

"Of course not, Maggie. You performed so wonderfully yesterday and now you have spent all day bending to the wishes of the news media, including mine. Are you a compulsive attention seeker?"

"I should think not, at least no more than you are but I hope I'm not missing something here?"

"You could have been summarily executed in the woods yesterday, according to what the police are saying today. Do you believe that?"

"We have more than one time-frame here -- knowing what I do now I believe it was a possibility and the thought horrifies me. But yesterday right to the point of the shooting I had no fear. I became frightened from the moment I saw blood spurt from my husband's upper chest but then when I looked down to see blood all over my dress for a moment I was confused and thought I was shot."

"Really?"

"Yes, really."

"Rather him than you, I would suspect."

Maggie's smile had been dimming and now it faded altogether. "I had no such thought."

"Are you sure?"

"If decency has deserted you and you have some spiteful barrow to push over your inadequacies Mr Clancy then I guess that completes this interview unless your director wishes to take over from you."

"I accept you had no such thought about whose name was on that bullet, Maggie."

"Do you love your husband?"

"Yes."

"You became married at very short notice I understand; were you pregnant?"

"No more that you are."

"What sort of answer is that, Maggie?"

"Impertinent, like yours, only yours was both impertinent and unprofessional. One's pregnancy, if there was a pregnancy or is likely to be a pregnancy is irrelevant to this interview."

"Oh, then what is the purpose of this interview?"

"I wasn't informed."

"Oh come, Maggie, you seem a very intelligent woman; what do you think is the purpose of this interview.

"I am tempted to say for you to exhibit your skills as an interviewer, but that would be impertinent. So I'd say it's a vehicle for you to examine me publicly to see whether I'm worthy of the name someone pinned on me of heroine."

"Very good, Maggie; that places you top of the class. Tell our viewers, why did you seek to become a heroine?"

"I don't believe volunteering to be a hostage which today some people are calling a foolish action is a clever way of attempting to become a hero or heroine. Further, I'm not sure one premeditates becoming a hero or heroine."

"Why's that?"

"Because when the outcomes are not known in desperate situations it is only after the event people can be classified in the range from coward to hero if anyone finds it necessary to make such an analysis."

"An excellent answer Maggie; it displays your higher than average intelligence I would think. But here you are in the safety of a bank with security cameras operating and probably by now knowing that police and sharp-shooters were lining up outside that those three clowns in Disney masks had no chance of making a get-away."

"You're quite right, no chance at all -- unless they walked out with hostages, knowing police are reluctant to shoot innocent citizens."

"The truth is no one in there was really scared, just a little anxious perhaps."

"Did you see the two women in black beside me in the bank captured in security camera and broadcast on TV?"

"I did."

"The woman on one side of me was fearful she'd never she her young baby again; her teeth were chattering and she was shaking. The other young woman I was also trying to comfort was just shaking a little but clearly was scared."

"Oh come, just young nervy women. What about that elderly woman -- calm as if kneeling in church, I thought."

"Yes, I wondered about that too. If our reporter is as good as I think she is you'll find the answer to that question of that woman's apparently serenity but murderous look in her eyes in this afternoon's edition of theSouthgate Regional Echo. I have been too busy doing thirteen interviews throughout today to go looking for a copy of theEcho and no-one handed me one."

"But really, Maggie, you were itching to display your stuff, to show you were up there with Tomb Raider Lara Croft, as I've heard it described, you jumped up expecting nothing more than walking out in the street and three goons surrounding you dropping their weapons and everyone watching declaring what a plucky person you were. Isn't that so, Maggie de Lacey, wannabe heroine?"

Fury showed on Maggie's face and viewers could see her lips moving as she counted to ten while she eyed the taunting fact opposite her.

"Listen smart-ass. Those two young women I was holding had heard the accountant clubbed with a gun-butt, and probably hear the crash of him hitting the ground. That was no picnic for them. Then we'd watched him being dragged towards us, not knowing if he were badly injured or dying in the pool of blood forming around his head. Then the Mickey Mouse guy lets of a blast of his shotgun, granted aiming at the ceiling, but we were showered with plaster debris and the noise with all doors and windows closed, was deafening. I bet you in that situation would have come close to crapping yourself. Then when they threatened to shoot the fingers off of the elderly woman no way was I going to allow those young woman see that happen."

"But one is only two years younger than you and the young mother only five years younger."

"I rather believe I didn't have time to make mathematical calculations and I didn't want that elderly woman unsettled -- I figured her courage would be rattling them and that's why they picked on her fingers."

"Well, perhaps I understand the situation a little better now. But what about that guy behind you; wasn't he cowardly not gathering you four women under his protective arms."

"The thought went through my head but I figured he had his reasons."

"Maggie, I learned the reason listening to Radio KM-FM on the way here; the guy who was on the floor with you is virtually blind through chronic diabetes."

"Poor guy, what stress he must have gone through."

"Indeed, you guys went through a tough time. What now, Maggie?"

"It's back to my office in a couple of days and this hospital has invited me to join its fund-raising campaign for a makeover of the Children's Wing -- the surgeon who operated on my husband took rather a fancy to me -- my toughness and sense of enterprise, I hasten to say."

"Well, good luck with that and I'd think you now have rather a soft spot for the police and emergency medical services."

"Yes Ross, and believe me there were real heroes amongst those people. Only now am I realizing the guts it must have taken to fire that shot over innocent me to knock out the guy who shot my husband. I've yet to thank that that guy or women and those two who whacked the guy moving to pump his shotgun into me. Then there's the surgeon who operated on my husband where he fell and the surgeon here Mr Geoffrey Smith. This evening Jenny Silver, the hospital's public relations officer, is arranging a wee dinner at my expense in my husband's room here at the hospital for those two surgeons, Jenny and me. Ryan will mostly be watching and listening as he's still mostly on liquids and it's painful for him to talk but I'm told he'll be improving day by day. You know, it's rather remarkable being called a heroine and I'm glad Ryan is gradually being recognized as the true hero; that will become very much clearer when the full story comes out in Court when those bastards appear to hear their fate which unfortunately these days will not mean a hanging. You know Ross, the Midland Bank that technically was robbed -- the money was removed from the building -- is not only my personal bank and our business bank but along with me is our company's largest shareholder. I'm probably regarded as their best customer right now and I'm a little chuffed about that."

"There were are folk, we're out of time. Thank you Maggie de Lacey, heroine. This is Ross Clancy of Prime TV signing off from Southgate City, New Zealand."

"Maggie, sorry I was a bit confrontational but I was aiming to get the best out of you."

"That's fine, Maggie said frostily. "You did what you thought you had to do."

"Maggie, that's a misquotation. "You meant to say, I did what I had to do."

"No unintentional misquotation, Ross. Good night. Jenny Silver has an early supper with wine awaiting you and your crew."

She left, hearing Ross mutter, "Bitch."

Maggie went to Ryan's room -- he was asleep. She pulled out her phone and went to the staffroom and spent the next half hour talking in short bites to her mother, mother-in-law, Lillian Marks, her sexy new friend Beth Trotter, Elaine Cook the butcher's wife who after a short chat called her daughter Susan on the phone.

"Susan, could you lunch with me tomorrow? I'd like to casually interview you about a job in events management -- but it's a bit complicated -- it would be working mornings for my company and afternoons for me when you'll be on my personal payroll; are you interested?"

"Yes, that's brilliant."

"It would mean giving up your role as a day time Pilate's instructress."

"Good, I was finding it boring. I want something to get my teeth into."

"Red meat?"

"You are funny, Maggie."

Maggie gave her the place and time to meet.

Finally she phoned Cathie, her PA.

"Sorry, Cathie, I've virtually abandoned you."

"No problem, I've been following your trauma. Everything's fine here -- the business is being run by an executive committee. You won't believe the number of calls we've been receiving -- invitations to address I think from memory forty clubs and special interest groups, the principal Rotary club and you have an invitation to attend a Police Parade, whatever that means. Your personal calls are just so overwhelming that I decided to dump the lot, except one."

"Brilliant Cathie, you are an angel; smart work. I will return to work on Friday -- cleanup to do tomorrow and then a day away from everything to crash. What was the call you didn't delete?"

"Sir Gerald Ashton-Forbes -- this is his restricted personal mobile number which he says call anytime, night or day."