Chapter 25

Friday night, Peter Fallbridge broke the Jagtar Singh corruption story on the National News. Shauna and I watched in silence as Peter told the story over stock film of Singh speaking at party functions and glad-handing on the campaign trail, and, of course, in the company of Linda Munro, his reputed girlfriend. There were pictures of the two in all sorts of surroundings, including one on a tropical beach.

I'd been told that Munro was a "blonde bombshell." She was blonde all right, but she wasn't glamorous. She was quite pretty, but in a girl-next-door sort of way, not unlike my Shauna. I found myself feeling sorry for the girl. I remembered Shauna telling me about her affair with one of her professors. I wondered if this young woman had been caught in a similar situation.

In any case, this story wasn't about the Munro girl. It was about Singh spending taxpayer's money on her. And the news crew had done a terrific job of focusing on that story.

After the broadcast, I called Pete Fallbridge. I knew that he'd be getting ready for broadcast to the mountain time zone, so I'd have to keep my remarks short. Unlike my show which was done once and taped, the National News was done live for five of Canada's six time zones.

"Pete," I said, "that was a very professional piece of journalism. Singh is going to have a hell of a time over the weekend. I hope he has a bomb shelter handy."

"Thanks, Pat," Pete said, "I really owe you for this. And I owe our researchers. Did you see those shots of Singh and Munro?"

"Yeah. Wherever those clips came from, they really added credence. The question on your viewers' minds right now is not whether the allegations are true but why nobody else has this story. And you can bet every news medium in the country is struggling to catch up. God help Jake Singh."

"Thanks, Pat. Gotta run."

"Be well, Pete. Give my love to Gail."

I hung up. Shauna turned to me and said, "Christ. What you told Peter was right. I'll bet every editor in the country is on the phone to his reporters right now asking how they missed this one."

"Yes, love. This story is going to be front page news for quite a while."

"I should start making a special section of the website."

"That would be an excellent idea. In fact, if you do it as well as I know you can, it's already got awards written all over it."

Shauna looked at her watch. "OK. I can call Sechelt now. It's about 8:30 there. My folks will be through with supper and able to talk. Do you want to get on the phone?"

"Maybe. Let me know if the coast is clear."

Shauna and I had watched the news in the basement "wreck" room. That's where I'd installed the home theatre system. I wanted it as far from normal human habitation as possible. It was the room to which I traditionally invited my male friends to watch the Stanley Cup finals. Like a lot of Canadians, I don't watch hockey much during the regular season. But the Cup finals are a different thing. The finals are a national piss-up, like the Super Bowl in the States -- except that they can go on for seven games, not just one. The wreckage left by the Cup parties had often been awe inspiring. It proved that most guys are pigs. But on this night the room was looking fairly civilized. Clean, in fact. So that's where Shauna decided to make her call. I was nervous as a cat. The last thing I wanted to do was to talk to Shauna's parents. The only time I'd spoken to her dad, he'd threatened to rip my ass off. As she dialed, I went upstairs to the ground floor.

I went into the study, poured myself a very stiff drink and sat down in front of the computer. I unsuccessfully tried to concentrate on my emails. I wound up forwarding most of them to my office with an addendum. I'd answer them later. At that moment, what I needed was another drink. As I was mixing my G & T, the office phone rang. I picked it up.

"Pat," it was Jerry Goldfarb, "could you come to Toronto tomorrow for a meeting? I know that you're going to be very busy for the next few weeks, but there are some things that have to be done."

"Jerry, this is short notice, Why are you calling so late at night?"

"Parmela just called me. She's been at the office till now working on your stuff. She thinks that it would be better if she's ready to proceed on Monday, and I agree."

"OK. Fair enough. What time would you like to see me?"

"How about one o'clock? But you won't see me. I'll be at the United Jewish Appeal golf tournament. I'd like you to meet with Parmela. She's done all the work anyway, and everything is very well organized. You won't need a very long meeting. You mainly have to be here to sign things."

This would not only give me a chance to get my own affairs in order, it would give me a chance to talk to Parmela about her uncle.

"OK, Jerry. What sorts of things do we have to deal with?"

"Well, in addition to the red tape about the estate, there's the question of your will. Or shall we say, lack of same. I understand that you don't have one. This should be taken care of ASAP, just in case. An estate the size of yours would be a nightmare if you were to die intestate. It could drag on in front of the courts for years."

"Yeah. Well, I'm not planning to die in the next forty-eight hours, but I'll give it some thought. Sorry I won't see you tomorrow."

"I'm sorry, too. But you'll be better off with Parmela. Hell, she's a lot better at this kind of law than I ever was. I know how you can cover your ass in business, but estate law is her field."

"OK. Well, have a good time tomorrow."

"I'll do my best. First, there's the annual general meeting of the UJA board. That's guaranteed not to be a good time. But then there's the golf tournament. That will be great. I enter it every year. I'm a pretty decent player, you know."

"Well I'm not. You won't get a chance to get me on the links. Good-bye, Jerry. Tell Parmela I'll see her tomorrow. And thanks."

"Don't mention it."

I logged on to the Air Canada website and booked two tickets to Toronto for the next morning, assuming that Shauna would want to come along. She'd probably want to see Robin.

I booked and paid for the tickets. I noticed that the line that Shauna had been on was still engaged. I poured myself another drink. I was in serious danger of getting shit-faced. So be it.

Just as I was sipping away at my third major gin and tonic since supper, the intercom buzzed. I picked up the phone. "Pat," Shauna said, "my folks would like to talk to you. OK?"

"All right," I agreed. With some hesitation, I punched the line. "Hello. It's Pat."

"Pat," it was a woman's voice, "welcome to the family."

"Thanks so much. Is this Carol?"

"The very same," she said, "you seem to be taking wonderful care of our little girl."

"I try," I said, "I love her very much."

"Hello, Pat," said a man's voice. "This is John. I look forward to meeting you."

"John," I said, "I hope to meet you, too. And I sincerely hope that you won't actually tear my ass off."

He laughed. "That may not be necessary. Shauna tells us that you're not quite as big an asshole as she thought you were."

Shauna broke in, "Dad, I never called Pat an asshole."

John laughed. "As I recall," he said, "that was one of the milder descriptions you used."

Carol said, "Shauna told us about the night you got engaged. That was so romantic. I'm afraid that I cried when I heard about it. And did you really buy Shauna a fancy sports car? And a big diamond ring?"

"Yes, I did. But those are just the trappings. I'll do anything I can to make her happy. I plan to spend the rest of my life trying to do that. Shauna is the most wonderful person in the world. She is my life. Without her, I have nothing."

"Oh my God," Carol said, "that's so sweet. John, don't you think so? Would you say that about me?"

That's the sort of question for which the average husband has no answer. At least not one that won't get him in trouble. I thought I should do John a favour, so I jumped in. "You folks should come and visit us as soon as you can. We have plenty of room. I'm sure that Shauna would love to show you around Ottawa. And I'd really like to get to know you."

"Well, there's the little matter of the airfare," John said, "you're not marrying into a rich family, Pat. I sure as hell hope you don't think you're marrying Shauna for her money."

I laughed. "John, don't worry about it. I have to travel a lot on business, and I have tons of frequent flyer points. I can get you tickets any time you'd like."

John and Carol agreed to let us know when they could come for a visit, and we said goodnight.

Shauna came bounding up the stairs from the basement and jumped into my arms. "Oh Pat," she said, "you were really great with my folks. I just know they'll love you."

"I hope so, little love. Especially considering that my relationship with them didn't get off to the best start possible."

"Did my dad actually say he'd tear your ass off?"

"His exact words," I said.

Shauna laughed. "That does sound like Dad. But when you meet him, you'll realize just how silly that was. Dad's not really capable of doing anything like that, to put it mildly."

"I'm glad. By the way, while you were on the phone with your folks, Jerry Goldfarb called. I have to go to Toronto tomorrow. It's estate business. He wants me to meet with Parmela Singh at one o'clock. I've booked you a ticket as well. I thought you might like to see Robin."

"I'd really like that. I'll send her an email now. That's always the best way to get in touch with Robbie. She lives on the computer. I've been thinking. Would you mind if I gave her my old car?"

"My love, that's your property to dispose of as you see fit. But you won't be able to transfer the title tomorrow. None of the licencing offices are open on the weekend."

"That's OK. Robbie and I can sign the title. I'll transfer it here next week and send it to her."

While Shauna emailed Robin, I went upstairs to get ready for bed. When Shauna came up, I was in the shower. She opened the glass door and came in. She asked, "Mind if I join you?"

"It would seem as though you already have. And it's an excellent idea. No one wants a dirty woman."

Shauna laughed. "That's not entirely true," she said, "it just depends on how you define 'dirty.'"

We washed each other. Shauna began with my dick. She washed it carefully and gently. "Now I'd say that's much improved," she said, "but I think that I'd better check to make sure." She knelt and made a show of examining my cock. "It looks OK, but there's only one way to tell for sure." She took me in her mouth and then back off to say, "Yup. It tastes fine. Delicious, in fact." She began sucking in earnest.

My knees went weak. I said, "Christ, Shauna! If you don't stop that, you're going to have more than my dick in your mouth."

She raised her head from my cock, smiled and said, "Oh good. I need some yummy dessert." She redoubled her efforts.

I couldn't hold back any longer. I came. It felt as though my balls were going through my dick. Shauna purred contentedly and swallowed. She smacked her lips. "Now that's what I call a good midnight snack," she said.

After our shower, we went to bed and made gentle love. Having Shauna's warm and lovely body beneath me and looking into her beautiful face while I was inside her was heaven. That night, I felt especially close to my girl. I was very glad that we'd spoken to her folks. Somehow, we seemed to be more officially a couple.

Saturday morning, we flew into the Toronto Island Airport instead of Pearson International. Jets weren't allowed to land downtown, so the flights to Toronto Island were all turbo props. They were slower, and the flight was a few minutes longer. But landing at the Island was often more convenient for business. The limo ride from Pearson took half an hour at the best of times.

When we arrived in Toronto, I went to the Toronto Dominion Centre while Shauna went to see Robin. We'd agreed to meet at the Eternity by four o'clock. Our flight home left at six, so that would give us plenty of time to have a drink and then go to the Island.

On this Saturday afternoon, the usually bustling TD Centre was nearly deserted. Only one door on the ground floor was open, and that one was right in front of the security desk. The guard on duty called upstairs to verify my appointment. After he spoke to Parmela, one of his colleagues took me up to the Goldfarb offices.