The Perfect Match

by Unknown

  'What are you doing? You have no right to do this!'

  she cried out. 'You—'

  'I have my right as a father to protect the health of my unborn child,' Guy returned determinedly.

  Chrissie couldn't find the words to respond. His right as a father.

  She really did feel unwell; the motion of the car wasn't agreeing with her at all.

  'Guy, I think I'm going to be sick,' she announced in a small voice.

  'Right now?'

  Chrissie nodded her head slowly.

  Guy showed commendable promptitude and dex-terity in stopping the car so swiftly and in refusing to display any male annoyance or distaste she might have expected in her nauseous condition, she decided ten minutes later when she was beginning to feel a little better.

  'I want to go home,' she told him plaintively.

  'You need to go somewhere where you can be looked after,' Guy responded dryly, 'and that is exactly where I am taking you. Come on....'

  As he led her back to the car, Chrissie told herself that she was a fool for not taking her chance to escape from him whilst she had it, not, she suspected, that he would have let her get very far and she certainly didn't feel well enough physically to even try to out-run him.

  As they got back in the car and he started the en-gine, she realised that he was driving away from the town. 'Where are we going?' she demanded again, uncertainly.

  'I've just told you,' Guy responded calmly. 'Somewhere you and our baby will be looked after.'

  Our baby... She wanted to protest that her baby had nothing whatsoever to do with him but she was too drained to make the effort. They were in the country now, driving down narrow lanes bounded by high hedges, and then Guy was turning off the main road and into a narrow dirt track, through a farm gate and towards the farm itself.

  Chrissie's eyes widened as she saw it. Unable to stop herself, she turned to Guy and exclaimed feebly,

  'This was my grandparents' farm....'

  'Yes,' Guy affirmed. 'My sister and her husband bought it last year,' he went on to explain. 'It isn't a working farm any more. All the land had been sold off and all that was left was a couple of paddocks.

  My sister teaches disabled children to ride and so they needed the land for the ponies.'

  'Your sister... How many have you got?' she asked him faintly.

  'Five,' Guy told her dryly.

  'Five!'

  'You'll like her.'

  'But you can't drive up and expect her... She won't—'

  'She can and she will,' Guy corrected her, refrain-ing from adding that he had helped his sister and her husband buy the house with an interest-free loan or that even apart from that act of generosity he knew that his sister with her generous heart would never turn away someone in need.

  'Is that her?' Chrissie asked nervously as she saw the tall, dark-haired woman emerging from the front door of the farmhouse as they drove up.

  'That's her,' Guy confirmed laconically.

  As Guy stopped the car, she came running towards it and immediately Chrissie could see the family resemblance between them. They shared the same strong bone structure and dark hair, and despite the fact that she was obviously in her early fifties, Guy's sister still had an enviably slim and fit-looking body.

  'Guy,' she exclaimed fondly as he opened the car door. 'What a lovely surprise. Oh, and you've brought someone with you, as well. You must be Chrissie.'

  She smiled as Chrissie looked uncertainly at her. 'I've heard about you from Frances.'

  'Mmm...well, there's something that Frances won't have told you,' Guy began, but Chrissie placed her hand on his arm, pleading with her eyes for him not to say any more.

  'Chrissie and I are not exactly the best of friends at the moment,' he told his sister calmly, 'as I'm sure she'll lose no time in telling you. But right now, she isn't feeling very well. She's been living in that wretched hovel of a cottage that Charlie Platt used to own. The walls are running with damp and I've never been convinced that the old cesspit those cottages were built over was ever sealed off properly.'

  'Mmm...it always used to smell rather odd down there on hot summer days,' his sister mused whilst Chrissie listened to them in growing anxiety.

  The cottages were old enough to have been built in the days when jerry-builders had thrown up houses as cheaply as they could and she herself had been aware of an unpleasant mustiness about the air in the cottage, which she had previously put down to the damp.

  But supposing it was not. Supposing it was something more sinister...more dangerous and potentially harm-ful not just for her but for her baby, as well.

  'You do look pale,' Guy's sister sympathised.

  'Come inside and sit down. My name is Laura, by the way. Rick, my husband, is away at the moment trying to buy more ponies.'

  'Guy said you taught disabled children to ride,'

  Chrissie commented as she walked to the house, flanked on one side by Laura and on the other by Guy.

  'Yes, I do, and we desperately need some more, but it isn't easy to find the right kind of mount.'

  As Laura opened the front door, Chrissie hesitated, looking round at her surroundings.

  'Chrissie's grandparents used to own the farm,'

  Guy explained to his sister.

  'Oh...' Laura frowned and then exclaimed, 'But that means—'

  'That I'm a Platt,' Chrissie supplied with a tight smile. 'Well, yes, actually my mother was a Platt.

  Charlie was her brother,' she added, holding her head up high, her chin jutting out firmly as she dared either of them to make a critical comment.

  'Oh yes,' Laura remarked, but instead of looking disapproving, Laura's face lightened in a warm smile.

  'Yes, of course,' she agreed. 'I remember your mother from school. She was completely different from Charlie, very quiet and studious.'

  'Yes, she was, she still is,' Chrissie acknowledged, quietly refusing to give in to the temptation to look at Guy to see how he was reacting to this confirmation of her mother's character.

  'Look after her for me,' Guy told his sister half an hour later when she saw him out to his car, leaving Chrissie in the house.

  She raised a querying eyebrow, but when Guy simply shook his head, she knew better than to press for an explanation.

  It was obvious that they had quarrelled and equally obvious, too, that Chrissie was both unwell and un-happy, and Laura was simply not the kind to pry into other people's unhappiness or to demand confidences, but the white-faced, hollow-eyed young woman who had accompanied her equally grim-faced brother this afternoon bore no resemblance whatsoever to the cou-pie Frances had described as being practically incan-descent with love for one another.

  As Guy drove away, she retraced her steps to the farmhouse. She found her visitor where she had left her, staring out of the sitting-room window at the farm land beyond.

  'I'm sorry that Guy has dumped me on you like this,' Chrissie apologised awkwardly to Laura. 'If could just call a taxi, I'll take myself off your hands.'

  'It's more than my life's worth to let you do such a thing,' Laura countered humorously, adding more seriously, 'and besides, no matter how much we as women might quarrel with Guy's absurdly male high-handed behaviour, it is rather obvious that you aren't very well. We have plenty of room here, and in all honesty, I get lonely when my husband is away. You would be doing me a favour if you did stay for a few days. Guy's right about there being something pol-luted in the atmosphere in those cottages,' she remarked, shaking her head. 'I had a friend who lived in one and she was always ill.'

  'I'm not ill,' Chrissie told her quietly. 'I think I'm pregnant. You must be shocked,' she added when Laura made no comment. 'I hadn't intended to tell you, but—'

  'No, I'm not shocked,' Laura interrupted her, 'just rather envious. Rick and I have never been able to have children,' she explained, 'Of course, I'm too old now and well past the sharp unbearableness of the pain it used to cause me. My work has helped me with that and tim
e.... Is the baby the cause of the problem you and Guy...?'

  'No...not as such,' Chrissie replied, shaking her head. 'Although...' She stopped. Perhaps now was not the time to tell Guy's sister that she suspected it could be a problem later if Guy insisted on claiming his rights as a father as he had already threatened he would. 'No, the problem is that...' She took a deep breath before continuing. 'The problem is that we both rushed into a relationship without knowing enough about one another,' she said sadly.

  'And now that you do, what you thought was love has turned out to be...not love...?' Laura guessed.

  Chrissie gave her a painful smile and told her wryly, 'I wish. I'd rather not talk about it if you don't mind,' she said tiredly.

  I don't mind in the least,' Laura assured her. 'I'll take you upstairs and show you where everything is, and then perhaps later when you're feeling a little more rested, we can drive into town and collect your things.'

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  'I t h o u g h t if you were feeling up to it, we might drive over to Fitzburgh Place this morning,' Laura commented.

  'Why?' Chrissie demanded suspiciously.

  'It was the official opening of the Antiques Fair yesterday, and I rather thought it might be fun to rifle through a few bric-a-brac stalls,' Laura said encouragingly.

  'Yes, it would,' Chrissie replied truthfully.

  She had been staying with Laura for two days now and had to admit that she couldn't have had a better hostess. They were both on the same wavelength, sharing a rather dry sense of humour. Laura supplied the relaxed and unselfconscious mothering that Chrissie knew she needed at the moment and in other circumstances she recognised that in Laura she would have found a friend she would want to keep for life.

  But Laura was Guy's sister.

  'No ulterior motives,' she challenged her.

  'Not a single one,' Laura promised, adding, 'Guy will be there, of course, and if you feel you'd rather not go...'

  Chrissie glanced through the kitchen window. It was a bright, sunny morning. She had woken up today without feeling sick and why should she deny herself and Laura a treat just because Guy was going to be there? Jon had almost completed the work on her late uncle's estate. It wouldn't be long before she would be able to return to her own life and, once there, she need never have to see Guy again.

  'No, it'll be a nice outing,' she agreed, 'but if you're harbouring any plans for staging a reconciliation...' she warned darkly.

  'You're adults, not children,' Laura responded calmly as Chrissie got up and started to clear away their breakfast dishes.

  'Yes, we are.' Chrissie wondered as she watched Laura start loading the dishes into the dishwasher why the knowledge that Laura wasn't planning to try to bring her and Guy back together should leave her feeling so flat.

  Surely she didn't want him back? After what he had said...after the accusations he had made? He had proved only too clearly that she was really better off without him in her life...in their lives.

  But he was her baby's father. Comfortingly she touched her still-flat stomach as though to reassure the life growing within it that she would give it all the parenting it needed; that she would give it all the love it needed.

  'Are you all right?' Laura asked her, frowning.

  'Yes, yes, I'm fine,' Chrissie responded.

  The previous day, she had seen the doctor who had cheerfully announced that so far as she could see, Chrissie was a perfectly healthy mother-to-be, if a somewhat nauseously inclined one.

  'We generally find it stops around three to four months,' she had consoled Chrissie, laughing when Chrissie's face had dropped.

  'Four months...?' she had wailed.

  'I prefer not to prescribe antinausea drugs,' the doctor had added, 'unless the mother-to-be is so ill that it is beginning to affect the baby's growth. Have you tried a couple of dry biscuits in the morning when you wake up?'

  Laura, too, had recommended the same remedy, explaining that although she had no personal experience of its efficacy, both her sisters who had suffered from the same problem had sworn by it.

  'We could take a picnic lunch,' Laura was telling her now. 'As you'll have already seen the grounds are really something special, but I suspect Guy won't be too pleased with me if he learns that I've dragged you all round them.'

  'Guy has absolutely no input into what I choose to do,' Chrissie informed her determinedly but either Laura hadn't heard her or she was choosing not to hear her, Chrissie recognised as the other woman busily wiped down the worktop before setting the dishwasher in motion.

  'Guy is concerned about you,' she told Chrissie half an hour later as she drove them both to their destination. 'He telephones at least twice a day asking how you are.'

  Chrissie averted her face before saying brusquely,

  'He's not concerned about me. It's the baby he's worrying about. This is my baby, Laura,' she declared fiercely. 'It has nothing to do with Guy.'

  'Apart from the fact that he is its father,' Laura reminded her.

  Chrissie sighed. They had been over this argument several times during the past couple of days, and whilst Laura had in no way attempted to press Guy's claim, neither had she offered Chrissie the comfort of taking her side.

  'Most men in his position would be only too glad to be told they had no responsibility,' Chrissie fretted.

  'Some would, I agree,' Laura replied. 'But Guy simply isn't like that. He's always been extremely responsible.'

  'But not responsible enough to check before he told me that he'd fallen in love with me that he really meant it,' Chrissie couldn't help retorting.

  She bit her lip when Laura made no response. She hadn't intended to say what she had but sometimes the hurt of what Guy had done to her was just too much for her to bear.

  'In fact, given his reputation, I'm only surprised that this hasn't happened to him before,' she muttered bitterly.

  Now she had got Laura's attention and she could see the frowning lack of comprehension in the other woman's eyes as she unexpectedly brought the car to a halt at the side of the country lane they were travelling and demanded shortly, 'What on earth are you talking about, Chrissie? What reputation?'

  Chrissie swallowed, dismayed to see the unexpectedly stern expression on Laura's face. It made her look disconcertingly similar to the way Chrissie could remember her mother looking at her over some childhood misdemeanour.

  'I...er...Natalie mentioned it...' She found herself almost stammering as Laura continued to regard her with frowning concentration.

  'Natalie,' Laura scoffed dismissively. 'That woman is a troublemaker who wouldn't recognise the truth if it walked past her in the street. Besides which Natalie has always been rather...possessive where Guy is concerned, completely without reason, and over the years I suspect she's been rather clever at manipulat-ing certain situations to her own advantage. I can assure you, Chrissie, that Guy has never had the kind of reputation you're talking about. He has had women...friends, of course, relationships, but...'

  She paused, shaking her head. 'This is an issue you should really be discussing with Guy, not me. I must confess I'm rather surprised at you, though, Chrissie,'

  she added, much to Chrissie's discomfort. 'I had thought you far too sensible and intelligent to be taken in by the spiteful comments of an obviously jealous woman.'

  Chrissie gave a small shrug. 'It isn't important anyway,' she fibbed.

  'Have the police been back to you yet regarding ownership of the desk?' Laura enquired as she re-started the car, changing the subject.

  Chrissie shook her head. 'No, they say they want to wait until my parents return so that they can inter-view my mother. After all, she hasn't actually seen it yet and until she does...'

  'When she and your father come to Haslewich, they'd be more than welcome to stay at the farm,'

  Laura told her. 'As you know, we've got the space and since this was your mother's childhood home...'

  Chrissie was touched by the generous offer.

>   'I'll pass your invitation on to her,' she assured Laura. 'I know she'll be worried about coming.' She hesitated. 'She's also very sensitive about the reputation that her brother had in the town and—'

  'Good heavens, no one will hold that against her, or judge her because of it,' Laura informed Chrissie firmly.

  Chrissie bit her lip but couldn't prevent herself from saying quietly, 'Guy held it against me.' She heard Laura sigh.

  'I don't know if I should tell you this,' Laura began quietly, 'but Guy had a very specific reason for not liking your uncle.'

  Chrissie listened, horrified, as Laura went on to tell her about Charles's bullying of the not-so-robust little boy that Guy once was.

  'That kind of thing can leave scars, especially for a man like Guy. He would never use his own physical strength against anyone else, he simply isn't like that.

  But I suspect that there's a macho instinct in every man that makes it hard for him to admit that another male has caused them to feel fear or physical pain. In their eyes it demeans them as a man. Guy was always scrupulous about not doing anything to take revenge for the way Charlie treated him when he was young.

  However, deep down inside himself, I think a part of him still carries what he sees as the humiliation of allowing Charlie to bully him, of not being able to stand up for himself and defend himself. Am I making any sense?' she asked Chrissie quietly. 'Or...'

  'Yes,' Chrissie told her huskily, her eyes filling with tears. She could hardly bear the mental images Laura had so poignantly drawn for her and in her mind's eye she could clearly see the small, pale, perhaps even fragile-looking boy being tormented by his much bulkier and bigger tormentor and, yes, she could understand, too, what Laura meant when she said that Guy might still carry a sense of humiliation because of what had happened. 'Why didn't he tell me...say something?' she asked Laura.

  Laura's eyebrows rose. 'Do you really need to ask?' she returned dryly. 'He's a man.'

  Chrissie sighed in acknowledgement of her comment.

  Although Guy had shown Chrissie round the site of the Antiques Fair, what she had seen then had not prepared her for the scene that met her eyes when, after parking the car, she and Laura turned the corner into the stable yard.