by Polly Carter
“Can you?” His voice was hoarse. His breathing all but stopped.
“Please, Arian,” she whispered at last, her voice shaking so as to make her words all but inaudible. “Don’t…”
“Damn!” Arian let go of her and, swinging around, thumped his fist on the steering wheel. “Oh, how I would like to spank some sense into you right now. But I won’t,” he added quickly as she shrunk away. “How about a compromise then? We have to submit a Notice of Intended Marriage at least thirty days before the wedding. We need to do that straight away to be sure of being married by the time your case goes to court. Will you at least agree to sign the document and let me submit it? And here’s another promise, I promise to convince you it’s what you want before the thirty days is up. If I don’t…” He shrugged. “But I will.”
“But,” Harley was still shaking her head. “What if…” Her voice trailed away.
“What if you go to prison? Then more than ever you will need to feel you are not alone and that you have someone out here working to get you out.”
“And will you only do that if we’re married?”
“No! Of course not! My God, Hal, I really should spank you hard for that! What do you think I am?” He paused to brush her fringe from her eyes. “But being married will be best for both of us. You just admitted that you felt like I abandoned you when I went to the US and you were hurt and angry and that’s why you left me. I don’t want to risk you feeling abandoned again. And I don’t want to risk losing you again. I know some people say it’s only a piece of paper, but it means something to me. I want you to be my wife, now and forever. I want to look after you through whatever life throws at us. I’m going to do everything I can to get you out of this mess, but whatever happens, I want you to know you will never be alone.”
“But,” Harley protested again, shaking her head. “This is such a big thing. I don’t know. I need time to think. It’s been so long. We hardly know each other. I mean things have changed. We have changed.”
“What hasn’t changed, my little ratbag, is that I love you and you love me.” He kissed her, a sweet, gentle kiss on the lips that went on and on until Harley was leaning limply against him. Finally taking his lips from hers, he chuckled. “See? You love me, Hal. It’s in your kiss. So, what’s going to happen is this. I’m picking you up after work tomorrow and taking you to my place and we’ll fill in the marriage form and then I will lodge it the next day. Okay? Agreed?”
“Lodge it if you insist. You still can’t force me to marry you.”
“No, I can’t,” Arian agreed scooping her into his arms and kissing her again. “And I don’t want to force you to do anything. But I’ll take that as a yes. And I will convince you that it is, after all, what you want more than anything in the world. You can take that to the bank.” He smiled happily at her and the breath caught in her throat. Once, marrying Arian was what she wanted more than anything in the world, but that was in younger, more innocent times. Now? Now she had Lyddia and was probably going to prison. She didn’t know how Arian would feel about Lyddia, and more importantly she didn’t know how Lyddia would feel about Arian. She would never marry a man who didn’t have Lyddia’s full approval. Never. No matter who he was.
Seemingly unaware of the turmoil he had triggered in Harley, Arian was kissing and nuzzling her neck.
“In one month, Hal, one month, you’ll be my wife.”
“Will I?” she said flatly. “It’ll be some honeymoon if I’m in prison.”
“I’m going to do everything I can to make sure that doesn’t happen.”
“And if it does anyway?”
Arian pulled her closer. “We’ll just have to assume it isn’t going to happen. If it does, we’ll deal with it then. I’d lodge an appeal straight away, of course, but I fully intend to ensure it doesn’t come to that. After Saturday, when we’ve been through all the details, I’ll know what I’ve got to work with. And Zain is going to do some investigating for us too. We’ll beat this, Hal. We will.”
He kissed her again, sat up, and started the engine.
“I’m taking you home now. It’s late and while, as you know, I do believe in sex before marriage, I’m a bit old for the front seats of cars. I’m also a bit old for chasing you around on landlines. I want your mobile number before I let you out of this car.”
Harley grinned and pulled out her phone. “Fair enough,” she said.
Chapter 9
Impulsively, on her way to meet Jessamy and with half an hour to spare, Harley turned off Guildford Road into a side street and pulled up across the road from a two-storey white, weatherboard house. Set back from the road, the house stood on a large block that sloped right down to the river meandering behind on its way to the ocean. Out front was a magnificent rose garden, and some of the thick woody bushes looked like they’d been there from the beginning, providing flowers for the parade of families who had called this beautiful place home. The rest of the front yard was lawn, drive, and a row of grevillae, bottle brush and wattle bushes filling the gap between the drive and the neighbour’s fence.
Harley and Arian had spotted the house many years ago and fallen in love with it. From then on, it was their dream home and they played make-believe about being married and raising their family there. Looking at it now, Harley’s heart and throat filled with the poignancy of the lost magical dreams of youth. It was silly, of course; there was no real reason she and Arian would ever have lived in this house. Even if they could ever have afforded to buy it, it might never have come up for sale at the right time.
She’d driven past the house a few times in the year or so after her break with Arian as she pined for her lost love, but not since. It was looking well-loved now, she thought, as she gazed at it from across the street. It had a new coat of paint, the wooden verandah floorboards were freshly polished, the lawn mowed, the driveway weeded, and the fences repaired or replaced. The owners had clearly made it beautiful to attract a new owner, a ‘For Sale’ sign was planted in the verge outside. And that new owner may very well be the people there now, she thought, seeing people come out the front door. They looked exactly like prospective homebuyers being shown around by an agent.
“Have wonderful, happy lives, lucky people,” she called out of the window to no-one who could hear. Firmly closing that door in her heart and mind, she went to meet Jessamy who was holding the long purple and pink fingernails of one hand up in the air as she flicked her phone’s screen with the tip of her forefinger.
When she saw Harley come through the door, she jumped up and down in her red plaid platform boots, which perfectly matched her mini-skirt. Her large breasts jiggled precariously, threatening to pop out either the top or bottom of the black crop top which barely encased them, and which showed off a large amount of the pencil-line tattoo of a tree branch that ran almost from her navel to above her breasts. The branches held scattered birds and red heart-shaped fruit, and all were bouncing and jiggling with Jessamy’s excitement.
“Oh my God, your hair, Jess!” Harley exclaimed as the two girls hugged. “It looks fantastic!”
“Yeah, I thought about what you said about private investigators having to be inconspicuous, so I got it all cut off,” Jessamy replied ruffling her now pixie-cut pink hair. A few longer strands on the right side hung down across her face, while the left side was cropped very short and had a zig-zag pattern cut into it.
“But, quick, never mind my hair. Sit down.”
“I’ll just order lunch first. Have you ordered? Can I get you anything?”
“Whatever you have, but hurry. I’ve got big news! And coffee, eh? Please?”
Back at the table after ordering falafels and salad for them both, Harley looked expectantly at Jessamy.
“I think I’ve found that purulent sack of pigeon droppings,” the self-denoted sleuth announced smugly. “Here, take a look at these.” Jessamy held her phone up to Harley, who took it and scrolled through the photographs her friend was showing her.
<
br /> “Yep, that’s the disgusting prick for sure. Where did you get these?”
Jessamy tapped the side of her pierced nose, ringing the little bell that hung from it. “I can’t give away too many trade secrets, but I think I know where I can find him. We’ll have to wait till Friday but come with me. I’m planning a stake-out.”
“Where? What are you going to do? It’s not dangerous is it?”
“Nope, nope, nope.” Jessamy shook her head. “I’m not saying another word. Discretion is a must. What you don’t know you can’t tell anyone else, even under torture. I’m just protecting you.”
Harley laughed. “You’re worried I might be tortured and you call that protecting me?”
“Laugh if you want,” Jessamy replied airily. “But remember this is my area of expertise, tracking down scoundrels and getting them behind bars.”
“How many so far?” Harley teased her.
“Okay, okay, so this festering grub might be numero uno, but even Poirot had to start somewhere. No?”
With Jessamy determined not to divulge any more about her investigation, the conversation switched to Harley, and Arian’s demand that she marry him in one month’s time.
“Suhweeet! You’ve gotta do it! You just have to.”
“How come you’re so keen?”
“Well, I’ve got this fabulous new outfit, short skirt and top, in black and white, with skulls on it and laces down the front of the top and front of the skirt. Not middle of the front, sort of down the front of each thigh. You’ll see. And where else am I supposed to wear it if not to your wedding?”
Harley laughed. “Sounds fabulous and I bet you look amazing in it. And, to be honest, that may be the best reason I’ve heard so far for me to marry Arian.”
“The other reason,” Jessamy said more seriously, “is that he is to die for, and you love him to bits.”
“But we’ve been apart for so long and we barely know each other now. Is that a good basis for a marriage?”
“Well, who have you been with since who might be a better candidate?”
Harley scrunched her lips together. “Well, no-one, of course. You know I haven’t had time for men since Lyddia was born.”
“Oh, time, is it? That’s the reason for your complete lack of interest in all men who aren’t Arian Fletcher?”
Harley fidgeted, crossing and uncrossing her legs. “No, Jess. You know what I mean.”
“I do. I do indeed. What you mean is ‘you’re right, Jessamy; you have detected the very heart of the matter: there is no other man for me but Arian’.”
Harley shook her head and tut-tutted. “You’re impossible.”
“Impossibly right, I think you mean. And you know what else? Arian is a dead-set legend. He comes back home to find the woman who dumped him three years ago is now a notorious criminal with a love child, and his response? Marry me quick so I can take care of you. Some women just don’t know how lucky they are, if you ask me. Of course you should marry him. ‘Where’s my Arian Fletcher?’ is the real question here.”
“Oh, Jess,” Harley said, leaning forward to cover her friend’s hand with her own. “He’ll turn up. There just aren’t many men good enough for you, but I’m sure he’s just perfecting himself somewhere out there so he can ride in and cart you off.”
Jess laughed. “I hope he brings a carthorse.”
Harley slapped her hand. “He won’t need a carthorse. You are gorgeous and smart and brave and loyal, and you just haven’t met anyone worthy of you yet. But you will. Oh,” she said, withdrawing her hand and resuming her lunch. “Before I forget. Arian has organised a meeting at my place for Saturday afternoon. He wants me to tell him what happened. He’s apparently got this friend called… Zain, if I remember rightly, who’s a detective who’s coming too. I don’t know if he can do anything, but I guess it doesn’t hurt having a cop on my side. Are you working then? I want you to be there too, and you haven’t even seen Arian yet.”
“Nope, not working Saturday afternoon. Sure I’ll come. I’m dying to see Arian. I thought you’d never ask.”
The lunch lasted another hour before Harley headed home after they’d made arrangements for their stake-out in three days’ time. She let herself in through the front door and was immediately met with a “Mummy, Mummy!”
“Lyddia, what are you doing here?” she asked with a worried frown, quickly putting her bags down in the kitchen and squatting down to look her daughter in the face. “You’re not sick, are you, precious? Why aren’t you at kindy?”
“I wath thick tho Grandma brang me home,” Lyddia explained.
“Brought, sweetie. There’s no such word as brang.”
“Grandma brought me home,” Lyddia repeated slowly and carefully.
“Are you still sick?” Harley asked, feeling Lyddia’s forehead for any evidence of a temperature. She was relieved to find the child quite cool, her colour good and her spirits as cheerful as usual. Whatever discomfort she’d felt seemed to have passed. “I hope you didn’t get in Grandma’s way.”
“No.” Lyddia swung her head slowly from side to side to emphasise her innocence, adding smugly, “I played with my new friend.”
“What new friend?” Harley asked as a shiver of suspicion ran down her spine.
“I’m not allowed to tell you,” Lyddia whispered conspiratorially. “He made me promith on Toody.”
“Oh, he did, did he?” Harley shook her curls. It was Arian she had no doubt, but why had he come? She hadn’t been sure she was ready for Arian to meet her daughter just yet. Or for Lyddia to meet him. But she had planned on being around when it happened.
“Damn you, Arian,” she exclaimed involuntarily.
“I’m not Arian, silly,” Lyddia corrected her with a laugh. “He’s gone home. I’m Lyddia.”
So, it definitely was Arian who’d been here and Lyddia, it appeared, had taken quite a shine to him. The question now was: what had he made of Lyddia?
When Harley interrogated her mother, Harriet assured her that she had kept her promise and refused to answer any of Arian’s questions, saying he should speak with Harley.
“He wants to see you tonight,” Harriet said. “I think it’s a good idea so I told him I’d mind Lyddia so you two can have some alone time. He’s gone back to work but said he’d be here to pick you up around 8:30. I got the impression he wants to talk to you privately.”
“Are you sure you don’t mind, Mum?” Harley asked later that evening as she waited apprehensively for Arian to arrive. “You seem to be looking after Lyddia a lot lately. I feel bad going out and leaving you with her again.”
The two women were in the lounge room. Harriet in her chair in front of the television, and Harley fidgeting on the couch next to her.
“Of course I don’t mind,” Harriet assured her. “Lyddia’s asleep and I doubt she’ll wake up. Even if she does, she’s no trouble. And anyway, it’s not like you are just going out for fun. If Arian needs to talk to you, it’s probably important so I want you to go. Looking after Lyddia is more restful than worrying about you.”
“And I guess she is what he wants to talk about.”
“Have you said anything to him about her? You can’t have thought you would be able to keep her a secret.”
“I told him right from the start that I have a daughter, but I wasn’t expecting him to barge back into my life the way he has. Remember, we started off thinking he was married. And it’s been so long, and I thought when he found out I am probably going to prison, that would be enough reason for him to have nothing to do with me. So there didn’t seem any reason really to say too much.”
“Well, there’s no doubt he is interested now, and I’m sure he’s got a lot of questions. And wants to talk to you about her. And? Anything else?” she added opening her eyes wide, lilting her voice up and adding a shrug of feigned indifference.
Harley looked quickly at her mother. “So, he told you he thinks we should get married?”
Harriet tried t
o suppress a delighted smile. “He did. He is really serious, darling. He told me he wants to be able to look after you and take care of you for the rest of your life. He’s a good man.” She paused. “But what about you? Do you want to marry him? I remember when it was all you wanted.”
“To be honest, I really don’t know, Mum,” Harley said with a heavy, plaintive sigh. “Yes, once I was sure I did, but that was a long time ago and we haven’t seen each other, and I don’t know what my future is and there’s Lyddia to think of and you’d be left on your own and…”
“And you’re trying to think of as many reasons as possible not to? For a start, you can take me out of that list. I was fine on my own while you were in Geraldton and I’ll be fine now. Besides I have Toby, don’t I, Tobes?” She gently prodded the black dog snoozing at her feet. At his name, his head shot up to look at her and his tail gave a friendly wag. Then seeing everything was as it should be, he gave a small snort of satisfaction and slumped back to his dozing. “And it seems Arian thinks it would be better for everyone if you’re married if you do go to prison–which,” she added quickly, “he’s adamant he will do everything he can to make sure doesn’t happen. But still… And think how good it would be for Lyddia to have a daddy. I’m sure he’d be a wonderful father. You should have seen them together this afternoon. It was so sweet. And…”
“Okay, okay,” Harley interrupted. “I get the picture. You think I should marry him too.”
“Who else? You mean Arian?”
“And Jess. Although she has the added incentive of having a new outfit she wants to wear.” They both chuckled.
“Well,” Harriet said, serious again. “It’s your life and you have to make the decision. And you have to love him. Don’t marry him if you don’t love him.”
Harley looked up. “There’s a car. It’s probably Arian.” She stood up, kissed her mother and went nervously to the door. She’d been dreading this confrontation, but now there was no way she could avoid it, she would be glad to have it all out in the open. Better to get it over and done with. Feeling like she needed all the strength she could muster, she was all in black: jeans tucked into chunky, mid-thigh length boots, long-sleeved T-shirt, and snug jacket in case. She’d brushed her curls out and sprayed them to give her as much hair as possible and put on an extra layer of makeup. Surveying the finished effect, she’d given a grim smile of approval. Let Arian mess with her now!
