Contract with Consequences Read online

  ‘So am I,’ he said. ‘Now, that’s enough personal information for one day.’

  Scarlet’s teeth clenched hard in her jaw. She should have known that his being nice and normal wouldn’t last.

  ‘Why didn’t you keep going straight along the main road?’ he asked when she swung right onto Terrigal Drive. ‘It’s quicker.’

  ‘Not any more, it isn’t. It’s suffering from terminal roadworks. If you came home a little more often, you would know that,’ she pointed out somewhat waspishly. ‘Apart from that, I’m the driver here. You’re the passenger. The passenger does not tell the driver where and how to drive. That’s bad manners.’

  He laughed again, though this time it had a harsher sound. ‘Glad to see you haven’t changed, Scarlet.’

  ‘I was just thinking the same about you. You might look different, John Mitchell-you’re certainly dressing a damned sight better-but deep down, you’re still the same obnoxious boy who thinks he’s smarter than everyone else.’

  This time he made no come-back, leaving Scarlet to feel totally ashamed of herself. She’d overreacted, as usual. She’d always had a quick temper, especially around John.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ she said swiftly into the uncomfortable silence. ‘That was very rude of me.’

  ‘Oh, I don’t know,’ he said, surprising her with a wry little smile. ‘It wasn’t far off the truth. I can be quite arrogant.’

  She couldn’t help it. She smiled back at him.

  Their eyes met for a long moment, Scarlet being the first to look away, John’s eyes still on her as she struggled to put her mind back on her driving. It kept rattling her, this sudden attraction between them.

  ‘Will you stop staring at me?’ she snapped at last, but without looking his way.

  ‘I wasn’t staring,’ he denied. ‘I was just looking and thinking.’

  ‘About what?’

  ‘Don’t forget there’s a speed camera just along here.’

  Scarlet rolled her eyes. ‘For pity’s sake, John, I live here twenty-four-seven. I know about the speed camera.’

  ‘Then why are you doing nearly fifty?’

  ‘I can do fifty. It’s not a school day.’

  ‘The sign said forty. Roadworks ahead.’

  Scarlet jammed on her brakes. Just in time, too.

  ‘If they dig up one more road around here,’ she muttered, ‘I’m going to scream.’

  ‘No screaming,’ John said in droll tones. ‘Can’t abide screaming women.’

  When she glared over at him, Scarlet was astounded to find him smiling at her.

  ‘John Mitchell,’ she said, her mouth twitching. ‘You’ve actually found a sense of humour.’

  ‘I have today, it seems. Which is just as well. I’m almost home.’

  Which they were.

  The street where Scarlet lived was no different from most streets on the Central Coast, full of a motley collection of houses of all different shapes and sizes. It was a family-friendly street where the inhabitants actually stayed put, rather than moving every seven years or so, as seemed to be ingrained in the Australian psyche. Of course, it was in Terrigal, which had been voted recently one of the ten most desirable places in the world to live.

  It would be difficult to find anywhere better to bring up a family. Admittedly, they didn’t have ocean or lagoon views in their street, but that made the houses more reasonably priced. They still enjoyed the wonderfully mild climate which came from living near the sea. On top of that they were so close to everything, not just the beach. Erina Fair shopping centre was only a ten minute drive away and Sydney a little over an hour.

  Scarlet could never understand why John didn’t come home more often.

  ‘Looks like a big turn-out,’ John said once Scarlet turned the corner into their street.

  ‘You have your mother to blame for that. If she didn’t put on such a good spread, she wouldn’t get so many people accepting her invitations. It’s always like this when it’s your family’s turn for the Christmas party. Look, there’s your mum and sister on the front porch, waiting for you.’ No father, though, she noted. ‘I’ll just stop in our driveway and you can get out. I want to put the car in the garage.’

  ‘Fine,’ he agreed, hopping out and taking his bag from the back seat before slapping the car on the roof and shouting thanks to her.

  She pressed the remote for the garage door, watching John in the rear-vision mirror whilst she waited for the door to roll its way slowly upwards. He really did look amazing today. Great buns in those jeans. Great body all round. If he’d been anybody else, she might have been tempted to flirt with him.

  Just the thought made her laugh. Flirt with John Mitchell? What would be the point in that?

  Scarlet laughed again. She was still amused over the idea when she returned to the party.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  SCARLET looked for John straight away. When she couldn’t spot him anywhere amongst the crowd of partygoers who’d all gathered under the outdoor entertaining area, she wandered back inside the house. But the only person she found there was his mother, getting a couple of bottles of wine out of the fridge. The large open-plan living room was empty of people, with no sign of John anywhere.

  ‘Ah, Scarlet,’ his mother said. ‘Thank you so much for getting John. It was very good of you.’

  ‘No trouble, Mrs Mitchell. Where is he, by the way?’

  ‘Upstairs in his bedroom,’ Carolyn retorted, sounding a bit annoyed. ‘Said he had to go get my anniversary present but I think he’s just avoiding talking to people. Look, could I bother you to go up there and bring him down? All the food is ready. You look lovely today, by the way, dear,’ Carolyn rattled on before Scarlet could accept or reject the request.

  Strangely, she didn’t mind the mission. It would give her the chance to see if he still had all those girlie posters over his walls.

  He didn’t. The room was stripped bare of all boyish paraphernalia. John was standing by the window, staring down at the street, his bedroom being at the front of the house. His bag had been slung on top of the bed, unopened. Scarlet glanced around but couldn’t see any present anywhere.

  ‘I’ve been sent to bring you downstairs,’ she called from the open doorway.

  He turned from the window and smiled a rueful smile. ‘Poor Scarlet,’ came his ironic remark. ‘You’ve been given all the awful jobs today.’

  She didn’t deny it. The strange truth, however, was that she hadn’t minded driving him home as much as she’d thought she would. And she didn’t really mind coming up here to collect him. But she wasn’t about to tell him that.

  ‘Did you find your mother’s present?’

  ‘I did,’ he said, and patted the right hip pocket of his leather jacket.

  ‘Something small and sinfully expensive?’

  ‘Could be.’

  ‘Let me guess-a real ruby.’ What else would a geologist son give to his mother on her ruby wedding anniversary?

  ‘You always were a clever little minx.’

  ‘And you always were a sarcastic bastard.’

  He scowled at her for a second, then smiled. ‘I tell you what. I promise to go down and face the small talk if you promise not to leave my side.’

  ‘And what, pray tell, do I get out of that deal?’

  His smile broadened. ‘My suddenly sparkling company?’

  ‘Not good enough, I’m afraid. I have no faith in your company becoming suddenly sparkling. I will need more of a bribe than that.’

  ‘Would a real diamond do the trick?’

  Scarlet wasn’t sure if he was serious, or just teasing her. Whatever, she was tempted to do some teasing of her own.

  ‘I have no use for a diamond,’ she replied haughtily. ‘Unless it’s sitting atop a band of gold and comes with a proposal of marriage.’

  The look on his face was priceless.

  ‘No?’ she went on saucily. ‘Pity. You’re not bad looking, after all. And you’re filthy rich. Not to me
ntion not gay. What more could a girl possibly want?’

  ‘Nice try, Scarlet. You had me going there for a while.’

  She grinned. ‘I did, didn’t I? Revenge is sweet.’

  ‘Revenge for what?’

  ‘For all the times you made me want to kill you.’

  ‘Mea culpa,’ he said, his tone droll.

  ‘You’re right there. But today is meant to be a happy day, so I’ll put aside my petty grievances and do what you ask, without payment of any kind. Not that I thought you meant to give me a diamond for real.’

  ‘If I did, you’ve missed out now. Still, be a nice, sweet, agreeable companion for the rest of the day and I might give you one.’

  ‘In your dreams, lover.’

  He laughed. ‘You’re right there, Scarlet.’

  John knew full well that that was one thing he would never be-Scarlet’s lover. Which was a pity. She looked utterly gorgeous today in that purple and black outfit. Shame she wasn’t one of those girls who could enjoy a fling without always looking for a ring on their finger in return.

  But that was the way she was and nothing would ever change that. Which was also a pity. John suspected one of the reasons Scarlet hadn’t found her Mr Right was because she had ‘desperately seeking marriage’ written all over her. What she needed to do, in his opinion, was lighten up.

  Perhaps he would tell her that later today if he found the right opportunity.

  ‘Come on,’ he said, flashing Scarlet a warm smile as he hooked her arm through his. ‘Time to get ourselves downstairs before they send out a search party.’

  CHAPTER FIVE

  SCARLET could not believe how much she enjoyed the party, and John’s company, though she would not go so far as to say he’d ‘sparkled’. After giving his delighted mother her ruby-which was uncut but simply enormous-he’d actually deigned to make a small speech, praising his parents’ fortitude in staying married for so long and wishing them all the best for the future. Then, even more surprising, after the buffet luncheon was over he’d made the effort to talk to his father. It had been a slightly awkward conversation-Scarlet had been hovering nearby at the time-but it was Martin Mitchell who’d sounded the more awkward, she thought, after which the fool had spent the rest of the afternoon playing with Melissa’s little boy. Admittedly, Oliver was a delightful child, with a highly engaging personality. But still, one would have thought Martin could have afforded to spend some more time with a son who’d flown all the way from South America to be with his parents on their special day.

  Scarlet had felt seriously annoyed with the man, which made her even more solicitous towards John. She also downed a good few glasses of wine, which she had a tendency to do when she was upset. Being tipsy brought out the flirtatious side in her, which was helped by the fact that he invariably sought her out if she left his side for too long, whispering to her each time that she wouldn’t get a diamond if she kept deserting her post.

  By five-thirty, the party was winding down, with people gradually leaving. By six, the Mitchell place was almost empty of guests, and Scarlet and her mother stayed back to help Carolyn and Melissa clean up. Oliver had been put down for a nap, whilst the men-Martin, John and Leo-had retired to the living room to watch the evening news on TV.

  ‘I had my four-month ultrasound on Friday,’ Melissa said out of the blue as she and Scarlet were restacking the dishwasher together. Their mothers were outside at the time, piling up more dirty plates to carry in.

  Scarlet stiffened as she always did these days when girls she knew started talking about their pregnancies. She’d known Melissa was pregnant again, but the subject hadn’t come up that day as yet.

  ‘Oh?’ she managed to reply as casually as she could manage. ‘Everything well, I hope?’

  ‘Marvellous. Leo was there with me, of course. He actually cried when they told him it was a little girl. So did I. Oliver’s a darling boy, but there’s something about little girls, isn’t there?’

  Scarlet was on the verge of tears herself. She didn’t give a damn if she had a girl or a boy. She just wanted a baby.

  ‘Would you like to see the pictures of the ultrasound?’ Melissa asked her. ‘I brought them with me to show Mum. They’re just upstairs. I’ll go get them,’ she added before Scarlet could say yes or no.

  John saw the stricken look on Scarlet’s face the moment he walked into the kitchen.

  ‘What is it?’ he asked straight away. ‘What’s happened?’

  ‘I have to get out of here,’ she muttered.

  Too late. Melissa was back in a flash with the dreaded pictures. Scarlet had no choice but to look at them and make all the right noises, for how could she do anything else without making a complete fool of herself? Melissa insisted John look at them too, which he did, though he didn’t gush, for which Scarlet was grateful. At some stage, their respective mothers re-entered the kitchen. Scarlet now had to endure Carolyn Mitchell raving on about how lucky Melissa was to be having a little girl and how lucky they were as grandparents to have their daughter living so close. She then added that it was obvious they were never going to get any grandchildren from John and, even if by some miracle they did, they’d probably never see them, since he preferred to live in South America than Australia.

  John had no idea what had distressed Scarlet earlier, but he suspected-by the look on her face-that she still wanted out. He did, too. Hell, yes. And the sooner the better.

  ‘Sorry to love you and leave you, folks,’ he said once his mother stopped to draw breath. ‘But I asked Scarlet out tonight and she said yes. So if you don’t mind, we’ll be off.’ So, saying, he took hold of a startled Scarlet and steered her firmly towards the front door. ‘Don’t wait up,’ he called over his shoulder, then whispered in her ear. ‘We’ll have to take your car, as I don’t have one here, but don’t worry; I can drive. I’ve only had two light beers all afternoon.’

  Scarlet would have agreed to anything he said at that moment, she was so grateful to be away from Melissa and the pictures of her baby.

  Five minutes later, John was reversing her car out of their garage, Scarlet only then realising she’d have a lot of questions to answer when she finally got home that night.

  ‘Nice wheels, Scarlet,’ John said once they were underway. ‘The last time I was home you were driving an old white rust bucket.’

  ‘I decided to spoil myself this year,’ she replied. New car and a baby. At least that had been the plan.

  Suddenly, the tears which had been threatening ever since Melissa brought up the subject of her pregnancy came back with a vengeance. Scarlet tried to choke them back but it was way too late. Maybe if she’d cried earlier in the week when she’d realised she hadn’t conceived, she might have stood a chance of controlling her emotion. Instead, it had been building up in her for days, this feeling of helplessness and hopelessness. She’d tried so hard to stay positive. So very hard.

  Her head dropped into her hands as her shoulders started to shake, noisy sobs bursting from her lungs.

  John didn’t know what to do for a split second. He’d known Scarlet was upset over something but he hadn’t expected this level of grief. It wasn’t like Scarlet at all!

  To keep on driving seemed heartless so he pulled over to the side of the road and switched off the engine.

  He didn’t try to comfort her physically. It was too darned awkward in a small car with the gear stick and hand brake between the front seats. So he just sat there and let her weep. Bianca had once told him that women needed a good cry occasionally. Most times, they didn’t require the men in their lives to solve their problems, just to be supportive and to listen. John wished he had a handkerchief to give her. But he wasn’t the handkerchief-carrying kind of man.

  Finally, when the weeping subsided, Scarlet snapped open the glove box and extracted a small box of tissues. She blew her dripping nose at length, then threw him a pained look.

  ‘Thank you,’ she sniffed.

  ‘For what?’
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br />   ‘For getting me out of there.’

  ‘Am I allowed to ask what upset you so much?’

  ‘No,’ she grumped, crumpling up the tissues into her hand and turning her face away from him.

  ‘No?’ John was never at his best when his will was thwarted. ‘Scarlet King, we are not moving from this spot till you tell me what’s going on.’ As he made his stand, John’s mind started running over what had happened after he’d walked into the kitchen. Melissa had come downstairs with the photographs of her ultrasound, insisting that they both look at them. Then his mother walked in and made some crack about his never giving her grandchildren. Which was probably true.

  But, John realised in what could only be described as a light-bulb moment, Scarlet wanted to give her mother grandchildren.

  ‘It was because of Melissa’s pregnancy,’ he said with typical male satisfaction at having worked something out for himself.

  The lack of sensitivity in John’s tone-not to mention the underlying arrogance-brought Scarlet back to herself. Her head whipped round, her blue eyes glaring daggers at him.

  ‘Yes, of course it was your precious sister’s pregnancy which upset me,’ she snapped. ‘Plus the way she shoved those damned photographs in my face. How do you think I felt when she told me she was going to have a lovely little girl to go with her lovely little boy when I would give my right arm to have just one baby of any sex?’

  ‘But you will, Scarlet. One day,’ he added.

  ‘Oh really? You can guarantee that, can you, John? I’m thirty-four years old. My biological clock is ticking away like a time bomb. Already the odds of my conceiving a child are going downhill. If I don’t have a baby soon, I might never have one.’

  ‘Don’t be ridiculous, Scarlet. Women of forty and older are having babies all the time.’

  ‘I’m not being ridiculous, and women over forty are not having babies all the time. Most of the older mothers you read about these days are celebrities and actresses who have access to the best fertility clinics in the world. Have you noticed how many of them are having twins? You don’t honestly think they’re being conceived naturally, do you?’