ater, after her mother-in-law had left to return to her house in Rose Bay, Madelana put on a thick, white wool cape and went outside. She walked slowly through the gardens as she did twice a day, enjoying the exercise and the air.

Although the wind had dropped, it had turned cold; dusk was falling, and in that lovely half light, neither day nor night but hovering somewhere in between, everything appeared to be softer, gentler.

The pristine sky of earlier had lost its sharp, icy blue-and-white tints, was slowly darkening, and its rim at the edge of the horizon was streaked with flaring ribbons of amber and rose as the sun sank into the sea. And in those hushed and silent gardens, where not a single thing stirred, the only sound was the lapping of the waves against the rocks of the jutting headland on which the mansion was built.

When she reached the end of the wide path, Madelana stood for a moment gazing out across the endless stretch of inky water. It looked cold, forbidding, bottomless, and she shivered despite the warmth of her cape. Turning swiftly on her heels, she hurried back up to the house. She could see that lamps were being turned on in some of the rooms, and narrow corridors of light were streaming out from the windows, illuminating her way.

How warm and welcoming her home looked in contrast to the daunting sea behind her. She increased her pace, wanting suddenly to be inside. Within minutes she was closing the French doors of the library, walking through the room and out into the foyer, still shivering slightly.

As she hung her cape in the hall cupboard she heard the chatter of voices coming from the kitchen area of the house. It was the two maids, Alice and Peggy, and Mrs Ordens, the housekeeper, twittering away together like a flock of chirpy sparrows. The three women took care of them exceptionally well, eased the burden of running two homes in Sydney – the house out here at Point Piper and the penthouse atop the McGill Tower. She took a step towards the door, then decided to change her clothes in readiness for the evening before going in to speak to them.

A little sigh of happiness trickled through Madelana as she climbed the staircase leading to the upper floors. She had been experiencing a lovely sense of contentment in the last few days. It was Philip’s love and the baby she was carrying that filled her with such abundant joyousness. Soon they would be three instead of two. She could hardly wait…longed to hold her child in her arms.

The rosy glow of the fire greeted her when she pushed open the door of their bedroom and went in. This was one of the two rooms in the house she had redecorated after her marriage; she had used a mixture of soft greens and a striking white chintz splashed with pink peonies, scarlet roses, yellow lilies and dark green leaves. The play of greens in the overall scheme and the airy chintz, lavishly used, served to endorse the spaciousness of the bedroom. There was a sweeping bay window overlooking the gardens and the sea, a curving, cushioned window seat underneath, and a huge four-poster bed.

A small antique writing desk was positioned in a corner near the fireplace, and Maddy went and sat down, picked up the letter she had been writing to Sister Bronagh in Rome when Daisy had arrived for tea earlier than expected.

She read it quickly, added a last sentence and her love, then signed it. After sealing it in an envelope and addressing it, she propped it up with the others going to Sister Mairéad in New York, Patsy Smith in Boston and Paula in London. Maddy was a diligent correspondent, regularly penned entertaining epistles with her latest news to her four favourites. After lunch today she had decided to get the letters written before she went into hospital to have the baby; she was positive their child would be born this week.

Leaning back in the chair, Maddy began to ruminate on the past year. How extraordinary it had been. Wondrous. That truly was the only word to describe it. But it’s not even a year, she suddenly thought, I didn’t meet Philip until September, and it’s only August. What a lot has happened in that short span of time. She rested her hands on her lap, linked her fingers under her large stomach, thinking again of the baby, making endless plans for the future.

Eventually she lifted her eyes, let them rest on the little sampler she had owned since childhood. It had been shipped out to Australia with her other possessions and it hung on the wall above her desk.

‘If your day is hemmed with prayer it is less likely to unravel,’ her mother had stitched so meticulously in bright blue wool all those years ago.

Oh Mom, she thought, everything did turn out beautifully for me, just as you said it would when I was little. I am your Golden Girl after all. I have been blessed.

Maddy turned her eyes to the photographs framed in silver standing on her desk…her parents, Kerry Anne, Young Joe and Lonnie. You’ve been gone from me for a long time now, but I carry each one of you in my heart and I always will, she whispered to herself.

As she continued to gaze at her family she realized her memories were much sweeter, far less painful than they had ever been. This was surely because she was a fulfilled and happy woman who no longer felt lonely or alone. At last her keen sense of loss was muted if not totally eradicated.

Maddy left the bedroom half an hour later, freshly made-up and immaculately groomed, dressed in a well-cut navy blue silk tunic over loose, pyjama-style pants of the same dark silk. Emma’s emerald bow was pinned to one shoulder. With it she wore a strand of perfectly matched pearls, large pearl earrings, and her wedding and engagement rings. On her arm was a navy-blue shawl of heavy jacquard silk, thickly fringed, and she carried a navy silk evening purse into which she had just popped her letters. She would mail them later at the Sydney-O’Neill Hotel.

Before going downstairs she paused at a door a little further along the corridor, turned the handle and went inside. Switching on the nearest lamp, she beamed with pleasure as she looked around the former guest room, now transformed into the nursery. Philip and she had decorated it together. It was done in a cheerful combination of yellow and white, with shocking pink as a lively accent colour. They had decided on this particular scheme since it was neither feminine nor masculine, and therefore suitable for a girl or a boy.

Lovingly she smoothed one hand along the edge of the crib, went over to the window wall to straighten a slightly crooked nursery rhyme print, moving around the large and pleasant room slowly, checking everything for the umpteenth time. Then she turned off the lamp, closed the door behind her as she went out, smiling beatifically, satisfied that everything was perfect, in total readiness for their child.

Maddy ran into Mrs Ordens in the entrance hall.

‘Oh there you are, Mrs Amory,’ the housekeeper said, giving her a warm smile. ‘I was just coming up to tell you Ken has arrived with the car to take you into Sydney.’

‘Thanks, Mrs Ordens,’ Maddy said, smiling back. ‘But there’s plenty of time, let’s go into the kitchen for a minute. I’d like to go over a few things with you before I leave.’

Shane decided that he had never seen Madelana looking more beautiful than she did tonight. She was obviously more head-over-heels in love with Philip than ever, and he with her; their happiness was reflected in everything they did and said. Not unnaturally it showed in their glowing rapturous faces.

The first thing he had noticed when he had arrived in Sydney several days ago was the way her face had filled out since he had last seen her in Yorkshire in January. It was no longer quite so bony, and the extra bit of weight suited her. Her cheeks were slightly flushed, her large grey eyes filled with sparkling lights, and there was a special radiance about her which he found utterly breathtaking. She seemed lit from within. No wonder some of the other people in the restaurant kept glancing in their direction. But then Philip was a handsome son-of-a-gun, very distinguished looking, and his face was well-known in Australia. That might also explain the numerous surreptitious looks. These two made a striking couple, had an aura of glamour about them.

It had been a merry evening from the outset.

The three of them had laughed a lot over dinner in the Orchid Room of the hotel. In fact, from the moment she had arrived at Shane’s suite, where Philip was having an aperitif with him, hilarity had been in the air. Philip had fussed over Madelana, pressed her into a comfortable chair, poured cool Evian water for her, and generally behaved like a man besotted, which he was. And she had been warm and loving, somewhat placid in her general demeanour, the beatific smile intact. Shane was happy for them, knowing full well what a good marriage meant. They were as lucky as he and Paula.

Philip was saying, ‘Anyway, Shane, we’re not going to Dunoon this weekend. The baby is so overdue now, Doctor Hardcastle wants us to stay in Sydney. He’s positive the birth is imminent, and so is Maddy, for that matter, and he thinks it’s best we stay put.’

‘He’s absolutely right, too,’ Shane said. ‘And from a strictly selfish point of view, I’m glad you’ll be in the city. Perhaps I’ll come out to Point Piper on Sunday, spend the day with you both, if you’ll have me, and if the little scallywag still hasn’t budged, of course.’ Madelana burst out laughing.

Philip grinned, then explained, ‘That’s what we had in mind, although we hoped you’d come for the whole weekend. You could drive out with me on Friday evening. It’ll give you a chance to relax, get away from the hotel and its problems.’

‘That’s a splendid idea, I’ll do that. It’ll be nice being with you, taking it easy, doing nothing much except read and listen to music. I don’t seem to have had a minute’s peace since I arrived.’

Maddy exclaimed, ‘Oh I am glad you’re going to stay with us, Shane. And Mrs Ordens is a wonderful cook. She’ll make all your favourite dishes if you tell me what you’d like.’

Shane laughed, shook his head. ‘No fancy meals, darling girl. Paula’s put me on a strict diet. She seems to think I gained weight in the south of France this summer. Mind you, Beanstalk’s always been so bone thin I suppose anyone looks fat next to her.’ He eyed Madelana, his expression merry and teasing. ‘You’re pretty skinny yourself – when you’re not pregnant.’

‘Yes,’ she agreed, ‘I think Paula and I both burn off pounds when we’re working. It’s all that nervous energy being expended, I guess.’

‘Talking of work, are you still planning to run Harte’s-Australia after the baby’s born?’ Shane asked curiously.

‘Oh yes, I think so,’ Maddy told him. ‘I plan to have a month or two off with the baby, since I can do paperwork and phoning from the house or the penthouse until I start keeping regular business hours again…nine to five and all that.’

‘Actually, I’m having a suite decorated for Maddy, next to my office in the McGill Tower,’ Philip said. ‘That way, she’s only one flight down from the nursery we’ve designed in the flat upstairs.’

‘Paula has often hauled one of ours into the office with her…and so has Emily,’ Shane laughed. ‘It’s a trait of the Harte women, I do believe. You might as well join the club, Maddy!’

She gave him a huge smile, which turned into a languorous yawn. She tried to stifle it without much success, brought her hand to her mouth, yawned again several times.

Philip did not fail to miss this. ‘I’d better get my lady home to bed,’ he announced, instantly rising, helping Maddy to her feet. ‘I hope you don’t mind having an early evening, Shane, but I do think we should be making tracks.’

‘Of course I don’t mind.’ Shane also pushed back his chair, stood. ‘I’ll come down with you, and anyway it won’t do me any harm to get to bed at a reasonable hour for once.’

Shane escorted them through the Orchid Room, down in the elevator, across the dark-green marble lobby to the front doors. ‘There’s Ken with the car,’ he said as they stepped out into the street. He kissed Maddy goodnight, embraced his brother-in-law, and slammed the back door firmly shut when they were inside, waved them off.

As the Rolls-Royce pulled away from the kerb, Philip put his arm around Madelana, drew her close to him on the back seat. ‘Are you feeling all right, sweetheart?’

‘Yes, I’m fine, Philip. Very tired, that’s all.’ She rested her head against his body. ‘It just suddenly hit me…the feeling of total and absolute exhaustion, I mean.’

‘Do you think the baby’s coming? Do you have any labour pains?’

‘Not a one.’ She smiled against his chest, slipped her arm inside his jacket and around his back, wanting to be even closer to him. ‘I’ll let you know, and in no uncertain terms, the minute I get the slightest twinge,’ she promised.

He stroked her chestnut hair, brought his face down, kissed the top of her head. ‘Oh God, I love you so much, Maddy. I don’t believe I can ever tell you exactly how much you mean to me.’

‘Mmmmm, that’s lovely,’ she said, smiling again, then stifling another series of long yawns. ‘I love you, too…I’ll be glad when we get home…I can’t wait to put my head on the pillow.’ Her eyelids felt so heavy she could hardly keep them open. They drooped and finally closed, and she dozed intermittently all the way to the Point Piper house.

After breakfast the following morning, Philip went back upstairs to say goodbye to Maddy.

But she was still fast asleep in the great four-poster bed, her chestnut hair tumbled across the pillow. In repose her face was tranquil, relaxed, devoid of the quickness and mobility that gave it such vivacity when she was awake.

How beautiful my wife is, he thought, bending over her, kissing her lightly on the cheek. He did not have the heart to awaken her. She had been almost speechless with fatigue the night before and she needed her rest this morning. He moved a strand of hair away from her face, kissed her again, crept out of the bedroom quietly.

Ken was waiting in the driveway with the Rolls when Philip walked out of the house just before seven o’clock, and within seconds they were en route for Sydney. Philip opened his briefcase, went over the most urgent documents he had collected from his desk last night, preparing himself for the day’s business as he usually did during the half hour drive into the city. He made a number of quick notations on his pad; studied a detailed memorandum from Tom Patterson, head of their mining division and one of the world’s great opal experts; perused other communications from various executives who worked for the McGill Corporation, eventually returned all the documents to his case. He sat back, mulling over everything he had read for the remainder of the drive.

When he strode into the executive offices of the McGill Corporation atop the McGill Tower it was exactly seven-thirty. His personal assistant, Barry Graves, and his secretary, Maggie Bolton, were both waiting for him. After greeting each other affably, the three of them went into Philip’s inner sanctum for their usual early morning confab.

Lowering himself into the chair behind his desk, Philip said, ‘The most important meeting on our agenda today is going to be the one with Tom Patterson. Presumably he got in all right from Lightning Ridge last night?’

‘He did,’ Barry said. ‘He phoned about ten minutes ago and I confirmed that we were expecting him around eleven-thirty this morning, and that lunch would be with you in your private dining room here.’

‘Good-o!’ Philip said. ‘I’m looking forward to seeing my old cobber, talking to him. It’s been months since Tom’s been to Sydney. He had a lot of pertinent things to say in his memo. I went over it again in the car on the way in, and I want him to elaborate on a number of points he’s raised. But better not to go into that right now.’ Philip glanced over at Maggie, sitting at the other side of the desk, her pad in her hand, her pencil poised.

‘Anything special in the post today?’ he asked, dropping his eyes to the pile of papers in front of him, then looking at her again.

‘Nothing of any great consequence, mostly personal letters, a few invitations, charity requests, the usual daily stuff. Oh, and a cheery note from Steve Carlson. He’s still in Coober Pedy. And doing quite well,’ Maggie finished with a small grin.

Philip couldn’t help grinning with her. ‘So much for my assessment of him! The jackeroo seems to have turned out to be quite smart.’

The three of them exchanged knowing glances, chuckling, remembering the young American they had characterized as a greenhorn, when he had come seeking Philip’s advice about opal mining a year ago.

Barry said, with a touch of acerbity, ‘Beginner’s luck, that’s all it is. You mark my words, he’ll come a cropper yet.’ He opened one of the folders he was holding, went on briskly, ‘I now have all the information you require on the newspaper chain in Queensland. The boss man over there seems to be interested in selling. I’ve prepared a fact sheet, Philip, with all the salient details. Also, Gregory Cordovian phoned just a few minutes after you left the office last night. He wants to set up a meeting with you.’

‘Does he now!’ Philip exclaimed, surprise echoing in his voice. He eyed Barry quizzically. ‘Could it be that he finally wants to call a truce?’

‘Hard to say. He’s a cagey sod, that one is. But I kinda got the feeling he was receptive to having a friendly little natter with you. More so than he’s ever been in the past. Could be that he even wants to sell the television stations in Victoria. And listen Philip, he called us, didn’t he? I take that as a good sign.’

‘It is. And you may well be right – about the television stations.’

Barry nodded, tapped the other folder he was holding. ‘Reports here about our natural energy companies, our Sydney real estate, and our other mining interests. You’ll have to go over most of them before next Thursday week, when we have that series of meetings with the executives of these companies.’

‘I will. Leave the folders with me, Barry. Anything else from you, Maggie?’

His secretary flipped back to a previous page on her pad. ‘Ian MacDonald called late yesterday afternoon. He has a full suit of sails for you, including the spinnaker and the Kevlar for the storm mainsail. He wants to know when you can get out to see him? Wonders if you’d like to lunch with him at the yard?’

‘Tomorrow or Friday…I am free, aren’t I?’

‘Tomorrow you are, yes. But not on Friday. You have a meeting with your mother and the board of trustees of the Daisy McGill Amory Foundation. A working lunch here at the Tower in the private dining room.’

‘Oh that’s right, I’d totally forgotten.’ Philip pondered a moment. ‘Perhaps you’d better make a date with Ian for next week sometime. That’ll be more convenient.’

‘All right.’ Maggie stood up. ‘That’s it for me, I’ll leave you two alone. Buzz me if you want a cup of coffee, Philip.’

‘Thanks, I will.’

Barry strode over to the desk. ‘I don’t have anything else either at the moment. I want to get back to my office, dig into the report I’m preparing for you on your mother’s foreign holdings. I’m still behind on it.’

‘Okay, go ahead, Barry, do what you have to do. In any case, I have enough to keep me busy with that lot,’ he said, gesturing to the folders Barry had just placed on his desk. ‘I’ll see you at the meeting with Tom. Let me know the minute he arrives.’

‘Sure thing, Philip.’

Left alone, Philip turned his attention to the two reports on their iron ore mining interests. Settling back in his chair, he began to read the first one, which consisted of fifteen typed pages. He was still reading the second, and making copious notes, an hour later when Maggie brought him a cup of coffee, and he did not start on the report about their Sydney real estate until ten o’clock. He was half way through this when Maggie’s voice came over the intercom.

‘Philip…’

‘Yes, Maggie?’

‘Sorry to disturb you, but I have your housekeeper on the phone. She says it’s urgent.’

‘Oh…Okay, put her through.’ The phone on his left immediately began to ring. He picked it up. ‘Yes, Mrs Ordens?’

‘Something’s the matter with Mrs Amory,’ the housekeeper said, getting straight to the point, her anxiety and concern echoing down the wire.

‘What do you mean?’ Philip demanded sharply, instantly alarmed. He sat up straighter, gripped the phone hard.

‘I can’t wake her. I looked in on her at nine-thirty, as you told me to, but she was sleeping so soundly I decided to leave her be for a while. I just brought her breakfast tray up, and I’ve tried for the past ten minutes to rouse her, but it’s no good, Mr Amory. I think she might be unconscious.’

‘Oh my God!’ Philip sprang to his feet, alarm signals going off in his head. ‘I’ll be right there!’ he exclaimed. ‘No, no, that won’t help. We must get her into hospital. The emergency room at St Vincent’s. I’ll send an ambulance. You must go with her. I’ll meet you there with Doctor Hardcastle, but I’ll call you back in a few minutes. Are you in the bedroom now?’

‘Yes.’

‘Then stay there until the ambulance comes. And don’t leave my wife alone for one moment.’

‘No, I won’t. But please hurry, Mr Amory. I know there’s something terribly wrong.’