Miranda Lee - Contract with Consequences

Under the circumstances, however, it would be wise if she spent tonight in the guest bedroom. His only problem was how to suggest it. That might be awkward. As much as Scarlet claimed she didn’t like having sex for sex’s sake, the truth was that she did. A lot.

John was thinking about how he could solve this problem whilst he opened the door. He didn’t say a word as he walked in and headed for the kitchen with the shopping, leaving Scarlet to close the door and trail after him. The ring tone of a phone-not his-suddenly split the silence in the apartment. Scarlet ran off into the guest bedroom where she’d obviously left her mobile. John heard her answer but then she closed the door, shutting him out.

Ten minutes later, she emerged. John knew immediately that this time, something was really wrong.

‘That was Joanna,’ Scarlet said before he asked. ‘She’s one of the hairdressers at the salon. Mum had a fall on Thursday when she came home from shopping. Slipped on some wet tiles and broke her wrist. Her right wrist. The thing is, John, I have to go home.’

‘Hold on a minute,’ John said, his stomach instantly churning. ‘What do you mean, you have to go home? Why do you have to go home? I’m sure your mother can manage. It’s just a wrist, not an arm or a leg. She has good friends and neighbours. They’ll all help. Have you rung her? Did she say she wants you to go home?’

‘Of course I haven’t rung Mum, because she’d say to stay here. But I can’t do that, not now that I know what’s happened. She needs me, no matter what you think. And the salon needs me. They can’t operate without two of their full-time hairdressers. We’ll lose clients. Joanna said it was chaos there on Friday and Saturday. Fortunately, tomorrow is a slow day. By Tuesday, however, I’ll have to be there.’

‘Can’t they find a temp?’

Her laugh was short and dry. ‘When one of the girls went on maternity leave last year, we had the devil of a time finding someone to fill in for her. No way could we get someone on short notice. Look, there’s no point arguing with me over this, John. My mind is made up. I’ve already rung the airline and got a seat on a flight leaving first thing in the morning. I have to be at the airport no later than six-thirty.’

‘What? For pity’s sake, Scarlet!’ John exploded. ‘This is ridiculous. Three more days up here. That’s all you need. Three short days. And you’re going to throw it all away. Think of yourself for once. Your mother will survive. The business will survive. Okay, so you’ll lose a bit of money and maybe a couple of clients. But you’ll have what you’ve always wanted-a baby.’

One part of Scarlet-the selfish part-agreed with him. But she could not bear the thought of her mother struggling along at home without her. Neither could she let the girls in the salon down, not now that they’d asked for her help. On top of that, there was that other critical little matter of her having fallen in love with John.

This was her way out, Scarlet realised. Her escape clause. She would never have been able to walk away from him by herself, but she could do it for other people. Strange, how calm she felt about her decision. Maybe you were always calm when you knew you were doing the right thing.

‘Even if I stayed here three more days, John, there’s no guarantee of a baby.’

His eyes narrowed on her, his expression fierce. ‘Why aren’t you more upset about this?’

‘I am upset about it.’ God, did he honestly think she wanted to fall in love with him?

‘No, you’re bloody well not. You’ve grabbed onto this because you want to leave. You don’t want me to be the father of your child. That’s the bottom line, isn’t it?’

She almost lied again. But what would have been the point?

‘Yes,’ she confessed. ‘That’s the bottom line.’

John could not believe how furious he was.

‘So what did I do to change your mind?’ he snapped.

‘Nothing. The problem lies with me.’

‘Meaning?’

Scarlet decided that a version of the truth would serve her purpose nicely. ‘As unlikely as it seems, I’m in danger of becoming emotionally involved with you. It’s a flaw in some women when they have great sex with a guy. But I don’t want to fall for you, John. I really don’t.’

‘Why not?’ he demanded to know, stung by her dismissive words.

She just stared at him, not believing that he could ask such a stupid question. ‘Why do you think? You don’t do love and marriage. You’re a committed loner who only ever comes home at Christmas and has no concept of what it is to care about anyone but yourself. I don’t believe you really want to be a father. I still can’t fathom why you made your offer in the first place. It never did make sense to me.’

‘Or to me,’ he threw at her, his temper getting the better of him. ‘It was an insanely impulsive gesture and one I regretted as soon as I made it. But then you contacted me, and I thought what the heck? Like I said, I’d always wanted you. And there you were, serving yourself up on a silver platter.’

Scarlet winced. She guessed she deserved that. But it hurt, oh so much. ‘Charming,’ she said, her chin lifting in defiance of her pain. ‘It shouldn’t bother you, then, if we call it quits at this stage. After all, you’ve already had me.’

‘I sure have, sweetheart. I’ve already had everything I wanted from you!’

Tears threatened but she refused to cry in front of him. ‘I always knew you were a bastard. I won’t be cooking any of that fish. I couldn’t eat a bite. I’ll also be sleeping in the guest bedroom tonight.’

‘Really? You don’t want a goodbye session?’

She gave him a long, hard look, fully understanding how easily hate could become the other side of love. ‘Don’t bother driving me to the airport,’ she bit out. ‘I’ll order a taxi.’

He almost called her back when she whirled to walk away. Almost told her… what?

That he was desperately sorry for what he had just said? That he hadn’t meant any of it? That he did care? That he did want to be the father of her baby?

Let her go, his conscience insisted. She’s right. You’re a selfish bastard. You’d make a rotten father. Even worse than your own. Go back overseas somewhere. Africa, maybe. Get as far away from home-and Scarlet-as possible.

Yeah, that’s what I’ll do, John decided grimly. As soon as possible.

THE plane took off shortly after seven-thirty the following morning.

Scarlet leant back in her seat and closed her eyes. It had been a long night. She hadn’t slept much, of course. Impossible in the face of such deep depression.

She’d rung her mother the previous evening at seven, as promised, immediately stating that she knew about her broken wrist and that she was coming home the following day. Her mother had argued with her but Scarlet had brooked no protest, glad finally to hear relief in her mother’s voice. Relief and gratitude.

It had been hard, however, not breaking down during the call. She’d broken down afterwards, crying herself to sleep, a sleep which hadn’t lasted long. She’d risen around midnight and crept out to the kitchen where she’d made herself some tea and toast. John hadn’t stirred, thank heavens. Hadn’t stirred the following morning, either. She’d crept out of the apartment down to the waiting taxi without having to face him again. Which was a relief. She couldn’t have borne that.

Tears filled her eyes once more as she thought about their argument. He’d been so cruel. Yet there’d been truth in his words. She had contacted him. And she had enjoyed every moment of the sex, even before she’d fallen in love with him.

One thing falling in love with John proved, however: she had not been truly in love with Jason. If she had, she would have been devastated by his deception. But she hadn’t been devastated, not the way she was devastated at this moment. Dear God, what was she going to do? She wasn’t going to go back to that clinic, that was for sure. Not yet, anyway. She wasn’t in a fit state to try that again, or even to contemplate becoming a single mother. A single mother had to be emotionally stable and strong. Had to be sure. Scarlet was no longer sure of anything. In truth, she was a mess.

The tears flooded in then, hot and strong. The poor lady sitting next to her became alarmed by her sobbing and called the steward, who brought her a box of tissues, followed by a brandy. She still cried on and off all the way back to Sydney but more quietly and discreetly.

By the time they landed, she’d run out of tears. The train trip back to Gosford was spent in a semi-comatose state. She rallied herself during the taxi ride home, determined not to do or say anything to make her mother suspicious. But it took a supreme effort of will to hide her distress behind a smile. Even worse was when her mother insisted on seeing all her photos, gushing over Darwin’s natural beauty and declaring that one day they would both return to have a decent holiday there together.

The word ‘decent’ almost pushed Scarlet over the edge. Using exhaustion from the flight as an excuse, she hurried off to have a long, hot bath after which she forced herself to cook her mother dinner before retiring for the night. Fortunately, she slept like the dead, so she probably was exhausted, both physically and emotionally. The next morning she went into the salon early, making sure that by the time the other girls arrived everything was shipshape: the accounts. The orders. The equipment.

Everyone was thrilled to see her, Joanna especially.

‘Your mum was annoyed with me for calling you,’ Joanna told her privately. ‘But I felt I had to.’

‘You did the right thing, Joanna,’ Scarlet said firmly and meant it.