A Paper Marriage

by Jessica Steele

  `You won't be spending much time in the kitchen,' Jonah assured her pleasantly. And when, dying a thousand deaths, she just stared at him, `Oh, by the way,' he said, getting up and going over to an antique desk where he collected up a piece of paper, `your copy of the agreement we made,' he informed her nicely, and, coming back, handed it to her.

  Lydie took it from him and with a thundering heart read the part written in his hand-"The fifty-five thousand pounds to be repaid at the direction and discretion of Jonah Marriott'. She swallowed hard, and could remain seated no longer. `This is how I'm to repay you?' she charged, looking him straight in the eye. `By being your pl... ?' She faltered. `By becoming your plaything?'

  `Plaything?' His innocent expression did not fool her for one minute. `For fifty-five thousand you'd be a pretty expensive plaything, wouldn't you agree?"

  'What, then?' she demanded.

  `Let's say that, ponder on the problem though I have-and I have to confess I'm not too enamoured of the idea of you working night and day nannying to-um-clear accounts-I have been unable, as yet, to come up with anything.'

  `You think my going away with you this weekend might give you some ideas?' As soon as the words were out she blushed.

  `Oh, yes,' he answered, his mouth picking up at the corners, his eyes on her crimson face. `You could say that.'

  He was teasing her, tormenting her-and he held all the high cards, and she didn't like it. But she had had his money, and her father was one very worried man.

  `Why?' she challenged. `Why do I have to come with you?"

  'Why not?' he answered. `As of now you no longer have a boyfriend-presumably your exboyfriend knows none of your financial business...?"

  'Of course not!' she butted in. `As if I'd tell anyone of the fix my father was in!'

  `So what else would you do with your weekend?"

  'Begin looking for a job for a start!'

  `Don't do that. Not just yet. Let's get all this settled first. You'll feel much better about everything once we've had chance to fully probe into the whys, wherefores and all the possibilities of all this.'

  `You're trying to tell me that to investigate possible areas, ways of my repaying you, is what this coming weekend is all about? And don't forget we have a "complete honesty" clause,' she reminded him.

  `Would I lie to you, Lydie?' he asked smoothly. And she knew that was as far as she was going to get, particularly when he said, 'I'll finish work early on Friday, and call for you around six.'

  `That won't be necessary, I have the address!' she exclaimed quickly, and saw him hide a smirk that, from what she had just said, she had agreed to spend the weekend with him.

  'I'll drive you...' he began, but she was shaking her head.

  `Sorry to be blunt, Jonah,' she butted in, while wondering why on earth she was apologising, `but I would much prefer that you kept far away from my home.'

  She had thought he might be offended, but he was more understanding than offended when he quietly replied, `I saw for myself how drawn your father is, how he's suffering in all of this, Lydie, but I shall have to see him, talk to him some time.'

  She felt awkward. She did not like Jonah's suggestion for the weekend any more now than she had ten minutes ago, but the great respect Jonah had for her father was there for her to see, andmentally anyway-she had to thank him for it.

  `I know,' she agreed. `But not just yet. Not until we've got something worked out.'

  He accepted that, or appeared to. `Until Friday,' he said. She moved to the door, their meeting over. He walked with her. She looked at him as he opened the door for her to go through. Wonderful blue eyes met hers full on, and her heart seemed to go into overdrive. Then he grinned, a grin full of devilment. `Try not to fret, Lydie,' he bade her. `Who knows? You might have a fun weekend.'

  `Did I tell you the one about flying pigs?' she snapped, and went quickly from him.

  Her thoughts were intensely agitated on her drive home. She remembered thinking on the outward drive about how her father was hurting inside, and how she knew that, whatever it cost, she could not regret any of what she had done. That thought haunted her all the way back to Beamhurst Court-she'd had no idea then just how much it was going to cost. She was spending the weekend with Jonah at his home in Hertfordshire-he was not expecting her to cook.

  Lydie was still in mental torment when she awakened on Monday morning. She swung first one way and then the other. Perhaps Jonah did not have in mind what she thought he had in mind. Wishful thinking? He had never made a pass at her, had he? And apart from shaking hands and giving her that kiss on the cheek in church on Saturday-and she rather thought she had asked for that, telling him he was her boyfriendhe had never touched her. Certainly he had not given her the smallest hint that he might be thinking in terms of her being his bed companion.

  Oh, grief! Even thinking about it made her go hot all over. By the sound of it Jonah had wearied of the chase, but it had to be faced-he was still one all very virile male. And, while she had no evidence that he even fancied her-and surely she would have picked up some clue somewhere along the line-was she so naive as to believe that this weekend had nothing to do with-bed?

  Oh, heavens, she was having kittens just thinking about it, and found that the only way she could cope was by trying to believe that nothing of a sexual nature was going to take place between them that weekend. Jonah had said that, in the absence of him being able to come up with a plan of how she should repay him, they could spend time this weekend probing possible ways in which she could start making repayments.

  Well, she couldn't think of anything, and if he wasn't enamoured of her nannying night and day in order to repay him she had no idea what his superior business brain might come up witheven if this coming weekend should stretch on to Christmas.

  Lydie went down to breakfast and found her parents already in the breakfast room. But there was such a strained atmosphere that, coupled with guilt and fear, plus apprehension in case one of her parents should ask a question which might call for an embroidered answer, she just grabbed up a banana and, uttering something about washing her car, left them.

  Jonah was on her mind the whole of the time while she washed and wax-polished her car. She should start looking for another job. Jonah didn't want her to do that, not just yet, he had said, when to her mind the sooner she started earning, the sooner she would start to repay him.

  She went indoors and decided to ring Donna, her friend and ex-employer. Donna had been nervous of coping without her, but, while Donna had her phone number, Lydie had felt it better to leave it a while before ringing her.

  `How is everybody?' Lydie asked when Donna answered.

  `We're fine. Though I almost rang you several times."

  `I knew you'd cope beautifully,' Lydie said confidently.

  `Which is more than I did. But we seem to have settled into something of a routine. How did the wedding go?'

  Guiltily Lydie realised that she'd had so much else on her mind she had almost forgotten about Oliver's wedding-was it only two days ago? `It was super,' she told Donna. 'Madeline looked lovely.' Unbidden, the memory winged in of Jonah saying yesterday, `I should have known you wouldn't be bridesmaid. You're much too beautiful' .

  '...job yet?"

  'Sorry?"

  'I was asking if you've got any work lined up yet. Only Elvira Sykes is back-you remember her? Well, she's home from Bahrain, and is desperate to have you if you're interested. She's constantly asking me for your phone number, which I keep telling her I've mislaid.'

  `I haven't any work plans at the moment,' Lydie hedged.

  `I'll tell her you're taking a long vacation and that if she isn't fixed up by the time you get back you'll give her a ring.'

  They chatted on comfortably until one of the children started yelling, then said goodbye. Lydie wandered over to her bedroom window and, glancing out, saw that her father was mowing one of the lawns. Her heart went out to him-they had always employed a gardener, but apparent
ly her father had had to let him go.

  She saw her mother come out of the house, then spotted her mother's car on the drive; she was obviously off to some coffee morning, good works, or shopping. She got into her car without attracting Wilmot Pearson's attention. Lydie saw none of the affection between them that had been there on Saturday, when her father had taken a hold of her mother's hand.

  Lydie consoled her disquieted feelings by musing that they had probably discussed their plans for the morning over breakfast, and, anyway, had her mother called to him her father would never have heard with the engine of the sit-on mower going at full pelt.

  Then the phone rang and Lydie came away from the window. On the basis that her mother was out, her father was out of hearing and Mrs Ross was probably busy, Lydie, though assuming the call would not be for her, went and answered it.

  The call was not for her, but that did not stop her heart from picking up its beat when she heard Jonah Marriott's voice. `Hello, Lydie,' he opened. `Is your father there?"

  'You want to speak to him?' she asked sharply.

  There was a pause at her sharp tone. `If you've no objection,' Jonah replied smoothly.

  She wasn't having this. `What do you want to speak to him about?' she demanded. `And don't tell me it's none of my business, because '

  `Oh, my word, what a little protector you are,' he cut in mockingly, but sobered to instruct, `Put your hackles down, Lydie. I promised your father I'd be in touch. I'm just ringing to let him know I shall be out of the country for most of this week.'

  Lydie calmed down a trifle. `I'll tell him,' she said.

  `He's not around?"

  'It would take me ages to get him-he's mowing the lawn near the end of the drive. It would take me some minutes to get there-and you're a busy man.'

  `And you're so considerate of my time.'

  He wasn't going to speak to her father, no matter how sarcastic Jonah Marriott became. `I'll give him your message,' she answered.

  `We'll talk next week, your father and mewhen you and I come back from Yourk House.'

  Her insides did a flip. `I'll tell him,' she promised.

  `And I'll see you Friday.'

  She swallowed hard. `I'll look forward to it,' she lied.

  `What happened to "always truthful with each other" ?'

  There was no answer to that. `Goodbye, Jonah,' she said, and quietly put down the phone to find that she was trembling. And that was from just speaking to him! Heaven alone knew what she would be like on Friday !

  She felt in need to do something positive, so went and showered off from her car-cleaning endeavours, and changed into jeans and a tee shirt, and then went to see her father. He was still sitting on the mower, but stopped the machine when, almost up to him, he spotted her.

  `Jonah phoned,' she informed him. `He wanted to speak to you...' Her father was off the machine with the speed of a man thirty years younger and Lydie hurriedly halted him. `He's gone now!' Her father's face fell. `But he asked me to tell you that he'll be out of the country for this week, but that he'll talk with you next week.'

  Her father looked defeated suddenly. `This can't go on,' he said, and seemed so utterly worn down that she just could not take it.

  And she, who found lying abhorrent, was rushing in to tell him, `Actually, Dad, Jonah has some proposition to put to you which he said will beer-the answer.'

  Her father brightened a little. `He has?' he questioned, a little life coming back into his defeated eyes. `What is it?"

  'He wouldn't say,' Lydie went on, and even while her head was screaming, Stop it, stop it, don't say any more, she heard her own voice saying cheerfully, `But whatever it is Jonah is certain-subject to your agreement, of course-that his proposition will be the answer to all your worries.'

  `He said that?'

  How could she say otherwise? More life was coming into her father's face. `You know Jonah,' she answered.

  `I certainly do. I've thought and thought until I wondered if I was going mental, and I can't see a way out of the hole I'm in. But if anyone can think up a way, I'd lay odds Jonah, a man with more up-to-date business know-how than most, would be the man to do it.' Already, in the space of seconds, her father was starting to look more like the father she knew. He had hope. `Jonah wouldn't tell you more than that?' her father pressed. And at the urgency of his tone the enormity of what she had just done began to attack her.

  `Afraid not,' she replied, marvelling that when she had just done such a terrible thing she should sound so cheerful. Somehow, though, she could not regret giving her father that hope. But, knowing she had told enough lies to last her a lifetime, she began to fear he might dig and dig away at her, and cause her to tell him yet more lies. She decided to make herself scarce. `I was thinking of driving over to see Aunt Alice,' she said, which was true. She had been thinking of going to see her-tomorrow. `I thought I'd go now, before she settles down for her afternoon nap.'

  It was a relief to be away from the house, where unthought lies seem to pour from her as if of their own volition. Though when she thought of how her worried father's dead eyes had come to life on hearing that Jonah had thought up something, Lydie still could not regret it.

  At worst her father would be back where he started when next week he and Jonah had their talk and Jonah told him that he had no answers. But at best-and that was the part Lydie could not feel too dreadful about-her tormented father had hope. His spirits had lifted, she had seen it happen. And now, for a whole week, while his financial worries would still be there to plague him, her lies had in effect lifted that dark ceiling of depression that hung over him night and day.

  Her own spirits lifted when she found her great-aunt tending her beloved garden and, while still a touch pale, looking in otherwise good health.

  Guilt over the lies she had told was lurking, however, and over the next few hours more guilt arrived in great swathes to torment Lydie. Oh, what had she done? Given her father a little peace of mind, but for what? Somehow she was going to have to own up to him before he and Jonah had that talk next week.

  It was guilt and a feeling of not wanting to take away her father's peace of mind-not just yet anyway-hadn't he suffered enough?-that kept her away from Beamhurst Court until Thursday. She and her great-aunt enjoyed each other's company and it was a small thing for Lydie-who had with her only the clothes she stood up in-to rinse through her underwear to dry overnight and borrow one of her great-aunt's blouses.

  `You're sure you have to go,' Alice Gough asked, but immediately apologized. "'More More wants more",' she quoted. `I'm a selfish old sausage. Love to your mother,' she said sweetly, to make Lydie laugh, and laughed herself, and Lydie hugged her and kissed her and said she would come again soon.

  Lydie drove home, her few lie-free days with her great-aunt over, and two very big questions presenting themselves. One, however was she going to tell her dear father about her lies? The other, how on earth could she get out of going to Jonah Marriott's Hertfordshire home tomorrow?

  The answer to the one question, she realised the moment she saw her father, was that she just could not confess. How could she? He was looking so much better than he had. How could she shatter that ray of hope he was clinging on to?

  The only answer, as she saw it, was to give her father a few more days of feeling that little bit better about everything. Unfortunately, she could find no answer to her reluctance to go to Yourk House to meet up with Jonah tomorrow. Unless there was some devastating earthquake in Hertfordshire, an area not known for devastating earthquakes, she would have to go.

  It rained on Friday. The weather matched Lydie's spirits. Her heart might be beating twenty to the dozen whenever she thought about staying at Yourk House that night, that weekend, but she packed a bag for the trip without enthusiasm.

  Since she could not just disappear for the weekend without giving her parents some idea of where she was going-and Lydie had to admit that to lie and say she was staying the weekend with Aunt Alice had crosse
d her mind-Lydie owned up that she was meeting Jonah at his Hertfordshire home.

  Her mother's lips compressed, but she said nothing, and Lydie' s father looked as though he might say something to the effect that perhaps Jonah might bring her home. But, clearly believing that if she was meeting him at his home then it must mean Jonah was flying in from abroad and that Lydie would be driving her own car to meet him, he said nothing. But Lydie did not miss that her father seemed buoyed up with hope. It was, of course, unthinkable that anyone else

  should know of their problems, and her mother, being the chairperson of an antiques society, was chief organiser in setting up a meeting that evening. Lydie was grateful that her father was going along for support and that both her parents left the house around five. She would not have to see them again before she left-her conscience and the lies she had told were getting to her.