‘Good. You’re gonna love this. I just had an intriguing conversation.’
‘Okay.’
‘I bumped into a mate at the pub. He told me a really interesting story about a guy he used to work with.’
‘Yeah?’ This was classic Pete. She never knew where his stories were going until he got there.
‘He’s a partner at Bartlett Brown, one of the top-tier law firms, started there as a grad. Anyway, years ago one of the senior associates was fired abruptly. The whole thing was hushed up, but the rumour is that he was working on a big property deal with one of the senior partners, and he was feeding confidential information to a mate at a construction company about a rezoning that was on the cards. His friend made a fortune out of it, apparently, and the senior partner suspected this guy was clipping the ticket. They couldn’t prove it, but he was “invited to leave”. My mate reckoned he’d be lucky to work as a lawyer again, but guess where he popped up?’
‘Where?’
‘Ashworth Property.’
Meg frowned, suddenly paying attention.
‘Turned out this guy’s father was a good friend of Malcolm Ashworth,’ Pete went on, ‘who was only too happy to take on a malleable, ethically challenged young lawyer.’
‘This is all very interesting, Pete, but why are you telling me this?’
‘Because Deb told me about your story idea, the Hartwell thing. I reckon it’s a goer. Have you guessed who this guy is yet?’
‘No idea. Are you going to tell me?’
‘Hugh Thorburn.’
‘Isobel Ashworth’s new fiancé?’ Meg felt her heartbeat pick up.
‘Bingo. And Ashworth Property’s General Counsel. He’s been working there ever since. Apparently, he works on a lot of their property deals. Deb spoke to Harry Madden. He’s keen for us to investigate it.’
‘Us?’ Meg and Pete didn’t work on stories together. Pete had been a leading reporter forThe Times, but he stopped writing a few years back when he took the job in digital.
‘Yeah, I suggested we put both our names on it, so he would give it the go ahead. You can run the investigation in Hartwell, I’ll dig around up here. He’s agreed to put you on a retainer to go down there.’
‘He has? When?’
‘Tomorrow. Spend a week or two there talking to people, see what you can find out.’
‘But—’
‘But what? Isn’t this what you wanted?’
‘Yeah, it is, it’s just … sudden, that’s all. But it’s fine. It’s good.’
‘It might end up being nothing, Meg, but it could be massive.’ A beat. ‘It could be the story that defines your career.’
Meg spent the following hour throwing clothes, shoes and toiletries into an overnight bag, buzzing with the promise of a big story. Something real. Something that mattered. Something possibly career-defining, according to Pete, who knew a thing or two about career-defining stories. He’d made his own career by blowing open a money-laundering racket, an exposé that sent a high-profile politician to jail. She’d aspired to a similar trajectory and her plan had been working out well until the major shake-up that saw half the editorial staff made redundant and many of the major roles ‘streamlined’, which was corporate jargon for making one person do two jobs.
She reached for a Zimmermann dress she’d found at Vinnies and chucked it in, then glanced at a pair of heels, debating whether she’d need them. Hard to say. Probably not, but she chucked them in anyway, then sat on the bed to check through what she’d packed.
Whenever the funny feeling she’d had ever since she saw Jenny rippled up beneath the excitement, she dismissed it. None of this had anything to do with her mother. It was serendipitous, that’s all. If her mum hadn’t mentioned Hartwell, Meg wouldn’t have stumbled across the Hartwell Gaol redevelopment controversy, which was the best chance—the only chance—she’d had to get her career back on track since the redundancy.
After one final check of the contents, she zipped up the bag.
‘It’s you again,’ Jenny whispered, eyes wide. She was still in bed. Soft yellow morning light illuminated the garden beyond the window, but the room was dark.
‘I just dropped in to say goodbye, Mum. I’m going out of town for a week or so for work.’
Jenny shook her head, agitation rising. At first Meg thought her mother was upset that she was leaving town, but then Jenny sat up, her eyes flicking around as though she was looking for someone else.
