Dark Oil (25 page)

“What is that?” asked Lara.

Jack looked puzzled. “I honestly don't know. They've been put there for a reason. You can see that.” He came close to her, too close as he tried to move one around and Lara's heart skipped a beat. “Pretty firm,” he continued, thankfully not seeming to notice the effect he had on her.

Lara pursed her lips. It was nothing much, barely a flutter, a purely physical reaction. It meant nothing and she was relieved Jack was ignorant of the way he made her feel this time around—or she'd never have heard the end of it. Still, she chastised herself for it, told herself she was behaving like a teenager. She didn't need that kind of thing in her life, didn't need another man she couldn't trust.

A local in a blue dwana suddenly walked around the corner of the next street, a cloud of dust at his feet as he made his way over to them.

“Hello. I am Oman. You are the Australians?” He was tall and thin, probably in his early thirties. Lara couldn't help but focus on the white of his teeth and eyes as it contrasted so vividly with his dark skin.

Jack nodded. “We are. I'm Jack and this is Miss, uh, wishful thinking, Mrs Lara.”

Lara closed her eyes briefly as she exhaled. Jack was playing games with her. Wishful thinking? Jack's lips curled into a smile, but she didn't reciprocate, didn't want to encourage him. She wasn't falling for him and that was that.

Jack wrapped his fingers around one of the roughly cut pieces of wood. “We were wondering what these are for, Oman.”

“Ah! That is easy. Some people do not have a home. They plant these sticks and they keep some material, some cloth. At night time they make a tent here.” He lowered his voice, as if sharing a secret. “It is government property, the footpath, but nobody complains
about the sticks, so they can stay here for sleeping. We all understand poverty in this country.”

“Your English is very good, Oman.” Lara was a little surprised, but also curious. “Where did you learn it?”

“I studied engineering in France and England, and worked there, too. I learned English at school. I was very lucky. My whole family, all my aunts and uncles and cousins and grandparents, gave all the money they had so I could become an educated man. Of that, I am proud.”

Oman's smile faded away. “For seven years I worked very hard. I sent all my pay to them. But I was never promoted. I am not white. And then I missed my people. This is my home.”

Lara's chest tightened as Oman's words resonated in her mind. There was too much injustice in the world. Too much depended on where you were born and the colour of your skin.

“Why don't you come and see my family? I would be honoured.”

Jack turned to Lara. “We need to get back to work, unfortunately.” Lara guessed he'd said the words out of caution, knowing they would be jeopardising their safety if they went along to the man's house. He seemed so nice, so very genuine, but what if he was acting? They could be putting themselves at serious risk.

“Please! You do not have to stay. Just a talk, a drink of tea if you wish. We have no opportunity to travel from Zakra, or so little. I would like to talk to you about Global Oil. And also about everything else. Your life is so different.”

Jack looked at Lara. “I could go for a little while, couldn't I? I'd love to find out more about this country. The driver can take you back, Lara.” He leaned closer, whispering in her ear, and once again it sent a jolt down her spine. “I'll be fine,” he said.

She pulled away, crossing her arms, not just to express displeasure at his suggestion, but to protect herself from his charm. “I don't think so.” If it was safe enough for Jack to go, she was going, too. She would probably never again get an opportunity like this to see the real Negala. Most of the time she was with government officials, and she often felt watched by them.

Oman's face was kind, his big eyes soft as he smiled like a little boy. “It is only a little further up this road, not much after where your car is parked. We can walk. I would be very grateful to find out a little about Global Oil. Most grateful in return. You do understand?”

Jack now crossed his arms and looked straight into Lara's eyes. “We would have to take our driver, and call the office to tell them where we are going. The driver can then drop Lara off at the house and come back for me.” He wanted to go, Lara knew that, and she wondered whether it was his sense of adventure that made the invitation irresistible to him. Or did he honestly believe it would somehow pay off? But if it was safe, why did he insist on going alone?

Jack kept pleading with his gaze, his expression reminding her of a puppy. Oh, he was painful! She laughed. “Oman, would you mind me having a word with my colleague?”

“Of course.” Oman stepped away.

“If you're going in there, so am I. Why should you have all the fun?”

Jack lowered his head. “If you insist on staying with me, then I won't go. I can't put you in danger, Lara. But I think it's important for me to accept the invitation. You heard Oman. He'll be most grateful in return. That's code over here for him having information for us.”

She rubbed her forehead. “I don't know, Jack. If it's not safe, you go in there and never come out, I'd never forgive myself.” It was true, she wouldn't, and for so many reasons, one of which was that Jack made her melt. He made her melt and made her heart beat faster, made her want to smile and sing. Yes, despite all the barriers, the walls she'd been building around her, Jack knew how to make her feel alive.

“Thing is, I've had plenty of training in the army. I can get out of a lot of tricky situations if I only have myself to look after. With someone else to look out for, it isn't always that easy. Tell you what, if it's safe we can come back for a visit. I'll take you myself. I promise.”

He put his hand on her arm and, no matter how hard she tried to ignore her bodily reactions, she couldn't suppress her slight trembling. She liked his touch, liked how it made her vibrate. “Please,” he whispered.

She didn't want to give in, though. She wished she felt less vulnerable and able to defend herself without help if the situation did turn nasty. She was still young and fit enough, but the reality was she wasn't Wonder Woman. She couldn't be a burden to Jack. She shrugged. “All right, then.”

Jack pressed her hand. “Thank you. It could turn out to be important.” He waved Oman back. “I am honoured to visit your home, Oman. Mrs Lara has other obligations and will return to the house. Perhaps another time.”

Oman's smile turned into a grin as he led them up the street. “I am so pleased. This is God's will. Your kindness will be repaid.”

They arrived at the car. Jack poked his head through the open window and talked to the driver. “Mrs Lara will be going back to the house. I am staying here for a little while, at number 132.”

Oman pointed to the house. “Just there. Up that alley.”

The men left and Lara climbed into the four wheel drive. It was what she'd agreed, yet it was hard for her to do. What if something happened to Jack? If she were with him she might be able to fight back, or at least run for help.

It made sense for her to go back to Global Oil's house, and she'd agreed to it a few minutes ago, but now, seeing Jack disappear into that alley, her heart raced.

She held her face in her hands and closed her eyes. She wasn't going to leave without Jack Norton. She just couldn't do it.

Jack lowered his head and entered Oman's house, pushing aside the curtain that served as a front door. Chickens ran around the living room clucking frantically and flapping their wings as he stepped inside, until they finally found the way out and escaped to the dusty yard.

The single living area was as small as the bedroom Jack had had as a kid—and he hadn't grown up in luxury. He guessed from the mattresses that lined every wall that it also served as a sleeping area.

He was pleased Lara had trusted him enough to let him come to Oman's place. Most women he knew would have told him he was crazy and dragged him away. Lara had realised how much he'd wanted to come and had given him that freedom.

Besides, crazy was the one thing he wasn't. He knew how things worked over here. If he could get some insider information on what was going on in Zakra he'd be one up on any threats and better able to avoid danger. Better able to keep Lara safe.

He'd always been a good judge of character and Oman struck him as a genuine, innocent man just trying to survive in barren Negala. Still, Jack was no fool and he certainly wasn't going to put himself at greater risk than necessary.

He took in the layout of the room. There was access from two windows, the front door and another opening. A quick glance upwards and he saw there was no manhole, so no way in from above. He sat with his back against the wall, facing the windows and across from the door. He had the best view of the room from there.

He saw a broom made from rush in the corner—a long wooden handle he could use as a weapon if needed. In his mind he counted the steps he would have to take to get to it: three, possibly four. Or one long jump.

“Kojo!” cried Oman.

A young man with the same eyes as Oman entered from the adjoining room, half bowing to the visitor. “This is my brother Kojo,” explained Oman. “He does not speak English. I try to teach him but he has not learned much.”

Suddenly, light flooded the room as the curtain across the front entrance was drawn. Instantly, Jack jumped to his feet, ready to leap over to the broom. He sighed as he recognised the familiar silhouette. “You were supposed to go back to the house!”

Lara smiled. “It takes time to learn another language,” she said in Negalese to Oman and Kojo, ignoring Jack. “I'm sure Kojo will learn.”

Both brothers' eyes widened with surprise. “Do you live in Negala?”

Lara shook her head. “I learned Negalese from a friend.”

Jack held his head in his hands. “Lara, you told me you were going back.” He wouldn't have come himself had she not accepted to return to the house. No amount of information was worth putting her at risk.

She shrugged. “I changed my mind.” And Jack could see she was happy about that. She'd probably followed her instinct, told herself she might not be army-trained, might not be a super-hero, but she was able-bodied with a decent brain, not a frail little lady in need of cotton-wool protection. It was all true, but he hated that she'd put herself at risk because of him. As if she could read his mind, she leaned close and whispered in his ear. “The driver will come and fetch us in half an hour, or as soon as he hears or sees anything suspicious.”

Oman put his hands together as if in prayer. “God bless those of you who speak our language.”

Jack sat down again without taking his eyes off Lara. “That leaves me out, then.”

Oman laughed. “Sorry Mr Jack. God bless you, too.”

Jack smiled. “Sit there, Lara, where I can see you.” Lara frowned, but did as she was told.

Kojo told Lara he would prepare tea in honour of her and Jack's visit. As she translated for Jack, Kojo hurried outside.

“Where do you prepare the tea?” Lara asked.

“We have a fire to the side of the house.”

Jack smiled. Only a woman would ask a question about the kitchen. He had to admit, it was interesting to see how the people really lived. But he wanted to get down to business, wanted to know why Oman had brought them here. He suspected it was more than a means to finding employment with Global Oil, although it probably had something to do with that, at least in part. “So are you working, Oman?”

Oman swallowed, then clicked his tongue and Jack guessed the discussion was hard for him. “These are difficult times, Mr Jack. I am looking for work now. At Global Oil perhaps?”

Lara cleared her throat. “We are not hiring right now. But all going well we should be by early next year.”

Oman's eyes lit up. “That is good news. Can you tell them our family are good people?”

“There will be a process for people to apply for specific jobs.” Jack wished he could offer Oman more. He often wondered what his own life would have been like if he hadn't had a break, a bit of luck getting into university, a little extra help from his family along the way. He might have been unemployed for years like many of the men from small country towns in Australia. It did nothing for a man's self-esteem.

“Is there a list? Could I put my name down now?” There was a sense of urgency in Oman's voice and he kept picking at the edge of the mattress on which he sat.

“There isn't anything in place for that. Not yet. I'm sorry, Oman.” Jack pursed his lips. Oman might have thought him cruel, but there wasn't much he could do about it. It was the way big companies worked and had to work. They had rules and policies and forms. If you tried to do things differently, best case it served no purpose. Worst case it backfired.

Lara shrugged. “That's right, there isn't anything in place for that. But we could take your contact details and give them to the local office manager, if you like. Of course, we can't promise anything. Do you think, Jack?”

Jack nodded. “Good idea. Why not.” He loved that about Lara. She never gave up. She was smart, creative and compassionate, too. And when she looked at him with those clear blue eyes he always came close to losing his composure. She was the whole package, the real deal. He'd never met anyone who came near. If only Lara were single. Aching inside as he stared at her wedding ring, the symbol of her love for another man, he held back a deep sigh.

Lara smiled at Oman. “You should still keep checking the local paper. When there are any vacancies we advertise them.”

“Thank you both. God bless. Thank you.” Jack could see the man's gratitude and hope in his eyes, and the way he clasped his hands with fervour. Boy, life could be tough around here.