THE FINAL: Business woman Maggie de Lacey is taken hostage in a bank robbery and when her new husband rushes in and attempts to free her Ryan is shot through the chest, but survives. Marksmen kill one of the armed robbers holding Maggie and save Maggie again by immobilizing another robber attempting to shoot her with a shotgun. All this drama is being shown live on TV. Maggie is hailed as a heroine but insists for her the real hero is Ryan because had he not placed the robbers in disarray as they were leaving the bank more lives could have been lost in the pursuit of them – including her own. A nurse reveals to a reporter she heard Ryan say to his new wife that she was worth dying for.
A month after being shot at the scene of the robber Ryan de Lacey was back at home with Maggie in their penthouse apartment, dividing his time between physiotherapy aimed at getting his left shoulder working properly again, doing light company work from his home office and slowly re-entering social life.
Maggie of course had returned to work, almost everyone welcomed her back and she handled the return of the Australians to the negotiating table with aplomb; lucrative contracts for the Southgate publishing company printing three Australian magazines were signed.
Maggie also negotiated the approval of the board to reduce her working hours from 7:00 to noon, except for meetings or urgent appearances, to allow her to work on raising donations to fund improvements to the structurally refurbished and extended Children’s Wing at Southgate Hospital. Her offer to accept a proportionate reduction in salary was rejected as unwarranted by fellow directors. At her suggestion management under the control of the executive committee would continue until Ryan returned to his desk fulltime.
By now Maggie felt a need and tried to ignore, it but it persisted. She’d trained herself to more or less ignore her sexual desires after Stephen’s death but sex had become excessively rampant when Ryan entered her life and, with that activity severely cut back she once again felt greatly frustrated and accepted she must do something about it.
* * *
Afternoons began to consume Maggie’s life, as she hoped they would, because she was eager to new business adventure. She met with the hospital board which approved her strategic and business plans with little comment, the two-tier organization for the reformed fund-raising structure attracting nothing but support. Maggie’s positional paper that suggested the administration/management structure be headed by her as chairman was agreed to with acclaim.
The second recommendation that the executive committee comprise herself as chairman with the six other members being appointed was also approved. The two opponents to that recommendation capitulated when Maggie referred them to Article 3:1 which stated ‘Expenditure on any fund-raising initiative be capped at $10,000
unless
any higher figure for any project received board approval prior to the committee resolving to commit to such expenditure’.
“That puts the lid on any wacky expenditure,” said one of the earlier critics, the board’s deputy chairman and the other board member with misgivings agreed.
Maggie’s first appointment to the fund-raising executive committee was its youngest member, the butcher’s daughter, Susan Cook, a marketing graduate aspiring to become an events organizer after having had work experience in that field.
Her next appointment was the radio-head Indiana Dick, real name Freddie Payne. He’d already met Maggie and signed a mutual contract with her for the production of the blood-stained ‘dress front’ on T-shirts which were selling enormously well, particularly since Maggie had sales available through a website. The associated song commissioned by Indiana Dick’s radio station ‘Maggie, You’re Worth Dying For’ was currently a hit charts single in New Zealand, Australia, Germany, the UK and on both coasts of the US and estimated royalties to the Children’s Wing makeover fund from those two projects were now expected to exceed $1,250,000.
At the time of being approached Indiana Dick had said, “Maggie, are you sure you want me on your committee? Older folk hate me, mothers of teenage daughters call me Satan and when I’m on the streets alone the cops pick me up for questioning and drug testing. What’s more, never in my life have I been invited to join anything.”
“That’s your uniqueness Freddie and that’s why I want you – I need at least one other person capable of thinking outside the square.”
Indiana Dick agreed and departed, shaking his head.
To her astonishment Maggie found herself drawn to Freddie – rotund Indiana Dick with a moustache and gravel voice who walked with a limp. Absolutely not her type at all and besides, she was married and had no intention of experiencing adultery for the first time in two marriages. She and Ryan had recommenced sexual activity but did so very tentatively whereas, although fighting it, she felt the pull of Freddie’s underlying sexuality which she accepted was part of the reason for his cult appeal.
This attraction interested her because it was so one-sided; the guy rarely looked at her beyond quick glances – initially she’d had described them as shifty looks and NEVER had he make the slightest advance towards her. Well, if he had, it passed unnoticed. Indeed, he did his best to repel her without apparently trying. He occasionally passed wind for goodness sake without embarrassment or attempted apology or looking around for the ‘culprit’. Once when about to sneeze he held out his hand for Maggie’s handkerchief and then handed it back, wet, for goodness sake. She later dropped it into a street bin. He swore and drank too much and loved talking about himself. Maggie had tried to distance herself, appalled by this man and his social behavior but gradually was making excuses for him to herself to ensure he remained marginally acceptable.
Their affair lasted not quite six months – the bastard (Maggie’s word used when telling Harriet and Beth) jilted her, announcing he’d found another woman as he preferred his companions to be in their very late teens. His behavior didn’t change towards her – he’d never revealed his sexual interest in her publicly – so with great maturity she decided to keep him on the committee to continue mining his expertise in motivating the public.
Two weeks later Beth called her to say she’d met Freddie. He’d appeared almost revolting and he hadn’t interested her. She phoned two nights later saying Freddie had asked her to meet him so would Maggie mind.
“He’ll fuck you.”
“I know, I have this feeling I’d think I would have in going to the guillotine.”
“Ah, I know the feeling. Beware darling, he’ll dump you like a rag.”
“Like you, I’m strong enough to shed only one tear and get on with it.”
“Good luck and enjoy.”
“Thank you sweet Maggie; there’s something about men, isn’t there?”
The call terminated, leaving Maggie reflecting on her friend’s final comment. Yes, she agreed but what was it about Freddie? She hadn’t a clue and sighed – it would be a revelation if Beth came away from Freddie knowing that answer.
It was Freddie who’d started it, saying: “Maggie, we’ve had a couple of meetings over coffee recently for discussions that to me seem rather spurious; are you wanted sex with me?”
She’d spilt coffee down her front; he jumped to her aid and began wiping it with the coffee shop’s damask table cloth. Feeling his hands thumping over her breasts, raising her nipples to bullet-like hardness, she opened her mouth to tell him to shove off, she’d do it; he was making a scene. Then he kissed her – in full public view.
She pulled away, threw a twenty dollar note on the table – he always left her to pay – and said, “Let’s get out of here.” She meant let’s get out of here you clown, you have publicly embarrassed me whereas he appeared to be thinking she’s meant let’s get out of here and get it off. He hurried her away and once on the footpath he slapped a hand on to the right cheek of her ass and grunted, “Are you wearing panties?”
She was horrified at her reaction. Almost panting she answered, “You won’t feel elastic edge there – the thingy I’m wearing is almost a thong but let’s not behave like this where people can see us.”
“Rex Plate’s hotel is just up ahead – I can get a room and we can fix you up.”
She assumed he meant the coffee spill and nodded, feeling the surge of excitement that he probably also had something else in mind. Would she let him have her? She wasn’t sure but knew she often lied to herself.
