Free The Lost Swimmer by Ann Turner Page B

Sally.
    â€˜Deal.’ She flashed a slow smile that was dreamy and seductive.
    â€˜Let’s put the barbecue on,’ I announced, rising. Stephen followed obediently.
    â€˜I’ll just be a sec,’ I murmured and went inside to fetch the bowls of dips and bread I’d spent the morning making.
    â€˜What’s his problem?’ I said to Big Boy as he sprawled at my feet. ‘I thought Stephen wanted to go overseas?’ Big Boy cocked his head and whimpered. Looking out, I saw Sally hovering near Stephen at the barbecue, deep in discussion.
    As I returned she was saying, ‘But capitalism always reinvents itself!’
    Stephen started to reply but clammed up as I approached.
    â€˜What Marxist theories are you two cooking up?’ I said as I deposited a platter of steaks beside Stephen, their marbled flesh glowing deep red. He blinked, as if it were the first time he’d seen meat.
    â€˜Stephen was just filling me in on the stock market.’
    â€˜Oh? What about it?’ I arranged the dips on the table.
    â€˜Just how uncertain it is these days,’ Stephen muttered.
    â€˜Even I can see it’s still jittery – and I don’t really follow it,’ said Sally. ‘Stephen has some elaborate theories.’ She gave him a playful look. ‘You should back your judgement.’
    Stephen chuckled. ‘Never.’
    â€˜Stephen’s far too wise to gamble,’ I said. ‘Aren’t you?’
    He didn’t meet my eye. ‘It’s not gambling, it’s investing.’
    â€˜Do you dabble?’ asked Sally.
    â€˜No.’ Stephen and I answered as one.
    â€˜We leave that to others,’ I replied. ‘I’d prefer Stephen stick to theories. One day we might get an investment property – but stocks are too scary.’
    â€˜You know that’s ridiculous,’ bridled Stephen. ‘You read the bad stuff and focus on it. Sally’s right – capitalism’s resilient.’
    â€˜I have a few shares. Maybe we can exchange notes?’ Sally grinned.
    â€˜Maybe,’ said Stephen, ‘when Bec’s not looking!’ He winked at me. Was this another secret? Had he been buying stocks without telling me?
    â€˜What would you do if you won ten million dollars?’ said Sally suddenly as we settled into lunch.
    Stephen topped up the glasses with a ruby-red shiraz. ‘I might buy a boat – always wanted one but they’re a money drain.’
    I stared at him. He knew my feelings about boats. Was he deliberately trying to rile me?
    â€˜I’d look after my family,’ he continued smoothly and leaned across to gently touch my knee. ‘Buy this one the diamond ring I couldn’t afford when we were married.’ His face stilled. ‘And see that the three people I made redundant this week were okay.’
    â€˜What three people?’ I said, shocked.
    â€˜I finally persuaded Jim and Lucy and Ellen to take voluntary redundancies.’
    I watched him as if he were a stranger.
    â€˜I know. That’s why I didn’t tell you.’ Stephen turned to Sally. ‘We’ve both been fighting to retain good staff but ultimately I had to make cuts.’
    I fought back the words that wanted to surge forth. Better to save it for later when we were alone.
    â€˜You think I sold them down the river,’ he said, meeting my eye.
    â€˜Economic realities don’t go away,’ said Sally. ‘It clearly hurt you to do it.’
    Stephen nodded, drained his glass and poured more with a steady hand. I wanted to cry. Stephen was becoming like the rest of them, the countless Heads of School through the university who were folding without a fight. And disturbingly he hadn’t discussed it with me. Until last week he’d been encouraging me to stand firm, and that’s what I thought he’d been doing too – using his vast intelligence to think of ways to create income streams