Contract with Consequences

by Miranda Lee

  ‘So was I,’ Scarlet agreed, quite truthfully.

  ‘He hardly left your side all afternoon.’ And hardly took his eyes off you as well. Though that wasn’t entirely new. Janet had always thought John had a secret crush on Scarlet when they were at school. He just hadn’t had the confidence back then to do anything about it. The man who’d asked Scarlet out tonight had been a different kettle of fish entirely. Janet had been taken aback at how good he’d looked when he’d arrived. Not all men suited having their hair cut so short but John did. He had a well-shaped head, flat ears and a handsome face. A nice body, too. All in all, a fine looking man. Unattached too, according to Carolyn.

  ‘You don’t think that…?’

  ‘No, Mum,’ Scarlet cut in forcefully. ‘That’s never going to happen between John and me, so please don’t go there.’

  Janet was not about to give up that easily. ‘If you say so, dear. But what does John say? Did he want to see you some more whilst he was home?’

  ‘Mum, he only asked me out tonight because he can’t stand being around his father for too long. I dare say he’ll be flying back to where he came from immediately. My guess would be tomorrow.’

  ‘Surely he’ll stay a little longer than that after coming all the way from Brazil?’

  Scarlet shrugged. ‘I doubt it. Here’s your tea, Mum. I’m taking mine to my room. I’m tired.’

  Janet frowned as Scarlet went upstairs after coming out of the kitchen a few minutes later. She knew her daughter better than anyone else in this world. She could sense her state of mind, especially when she tried to hide it. Which she was doing right now.

  Something had happened between her and John tonight, something which she didn’t want to talk about, something which had made her very tense. Had he made a pass? Janet wondered. She wouldn’t have been surprised if he had. Scarlet was lovely looking, but she had impossibly high standards when it came to men. They only had to put a single foot wrong and they were out the door. If Scarlet hadn’t been searching for perfection in a partner, she would long have been married by now. Of course, Janet didn’t condone men who were unfaithful the way Jason had been. But a girl sometimes had to turn a blind eye to minor failings if she wanted to become a wife and mother as much as Scarlet did.

  Not that it mattered now, Janet thought with a resigned sigh. She’d obviously given up on the idea of marriage. Even if John were interested, he’d be fighting a losing battle with Scarlet. All she wanted was a baby.

  Janet stood up from the sofa and walked over to pick up her tea. She hoped and prayed Scarlet would fall pregnant next month.

  The same thought kept Scarlet awake long after she climbed into bed. She tossed and turned, her mind torturing herself with that most horrible ‘what if?’ What if she didn’t fall pregnant next month? What then? Would she keep on trying or resort to more complicated and expensive procedures like IVF? How long could she keep doing this before she went stark, raving mad?

  Already she could feel herself unravelling.

  Maybe she should have accepted John’s offer. Why hadn’t she? Was it just because the idea of having sex with him terrified her? Was she so frightened of not living up to his expectations? That seemed a truly pathetic reason to knock back what was in many ways an excellent proposal. Then why, Scarlet? What are you so afraid of where John is concerned?

  Her whirling mind eventually went back to that movie they’d seen tonight, with its truly cheesy ending. Surely she couldn’t be afraid of something similar happening to her? It seemed ludicrous in the extreme to think she would fall for John just because she went to bed with him.

  For the umpteenth time, Scarlet sat up and punched her pillow before turning it over and slumping back down again.

  ‘I’m getting sick of this,’ she muttered as she stared blankly up at the darkened ceiling. ‘I have to go to work in the morning. It’s all your fault, John Mitchell. You should have minded your own business. You don’t really want to be the father of my baby. You don’t really want to be the father of any baby. So why on earth did you make such a ridiculous offer in the first place? It just doesn’t make sense!’

  The man himself was thinking along those same lines as he stood at his bedroom window, staring down at Scarlet’s house as he’d done so many times when he’d been a boy, wanting to join in as she played with the other kids.

  A wry smile pulled at his face. Here he was, years later, still wanting Scarlet, though admittedly in quite a different way!

  Okay, so his offering to be her sperm donor had begun as a gesture of kindness, but it had quickly changed to one driven by his male hormones. He wanted her, naked and willing, in his arms, a prospect which he now realised had always been in the realms of fantasy. John only had to recall the way she’d reacted to his taking her arm tonight to know he wasn’t on her ‘ten most desirable men in the world’ list. Perhaps that was why she’d rejected his offer. That and the fact she didn’t want a selfish, self-centred commitment-phobe as the father of her baby. Much better to have some anonymous stranger.

  Good one, John.

  A light suddenly came on in the King house. John had no idea if it was Scarlet’s bedroom or not. But he suspected it was. She was sleepless, just like him.

  Another memory suddenly popped into his head-that of his taking her arm when they’d left his parents’ party together. Scarlet hadn’t pulled away from him then. Hadn’t found his touch in any way repulsive. Then there’d been the way she’d looked at him when she’d first driven up to Gosford station earlier that day. That hadn’t been the look of a woman who found him unattractive.

  Maybe he was reading this situation all wrong. Maybe there was something else bothering Scarlet. Maybe she had been tossing and turning in her bed over there, wishing now that she hadn’t rejected his offer. Because in truth it had been a good offer, far better than her having some stranger’s child. He still didn’t fancy that idea one little bit.

  It suddenly occurred to John that Scarlet might eventually reconsider his offer. He suspected, however, that she would not come to such a decision lightly, or in the immediate future. To hang around home, hoping for her to change her mind, was not a bearable thought. Despite his recent discovery that he still loved his father, John still found being around him difficult. He couldn’t even escape by going surfing; the doctors said such activities were out of the question till his leg was stronger. He’d already told his mother when he arrived home that he was booked on a flight tomorrow evening, letting her think he was returning to Brazil, whereas in fact he was going to Darwin. She’d been disappointed by his early departure, but resigned.

  Would Scarlet be disappointed by his early departure? he wondered. Or relieved.

  He could hardly ask her now.

  Another thought came to him. What if she did change her mind about his offer? She would need to know how to contact him, without having to ask his mother. No way would Scarlet do that. He knew her. She was like him in some ways-overly proud. And too independent for her own good.

  Turning from the window, he made his way downstairs where everything was quiet; his parents had gone to bed some time ago. Switching on the kitchen light, he went to the drawer where his mother kept an assortment of biros, writing pads and different-sized envelopes. Selecting what he wanted, he returned to his room, switched on his bedside lamp and sat down to write. It took him several attempts before he got the wording just right but eventually he was satisfied.

  Dear Scarlet.

  By the time you read this I will have left. Not Australia, as my family believe. I have an apartment in Darwin where I go every winter for a few weeks’ rest and recreation. This time, however, I intend to stay longer, though please keep this information confidential. Scarlet, I presume you are determined to keep trying for a baby by your anonymous donor. And that is your right. But if it is not successful, I wish you to know that my offer is still open. I can’t promise you romance but I do promise you what I think you need very badly. Here are my mobil
e and satellite phone numbers so that you can contact me no matter where I am.

  Your friend always, John.

  He added the numbers then slipped the note into an envelope and wrote Scarlet’s name on the front, having already decided to drop the letter into her mailbox tomorrow whilst she was at work.

  By the time she got home he would be long gone.

  Then it would be up to her.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  Exactly one month and one day later

  IT HADN’T worked. Again.

  Despair clutched at Scarlet’s already cramping stomach as she hunched over the toilet seat. There had to be something wrong with her. Because it didn’t make sense. The clinic had tried a different procedure this time, putting the sperm right into her womb instead of just on the cervix. It was a more expensive procedure but was supposed to give her a better chance of conceiving.

  A total waste of money as it turned out.

  She dreaded telling her mother. Yet, she would have to. Scarlet wished now that she hadn’t confided her plan in the first place. She should have just gone to the clinic on her own, in secret. That way, she could have handled her disappointment in private, without the added pain of watching her mother’s disappointment. Her mum sometimes pretended that she didn’t mind not having grandchildren but Scarlet knew that wasn’t the case. She’d often said how she’d wanted to have a bigger family herself.

  Scarlet frowned at this last thought. If her mother had wanted more than one child, then why hadn’t she had some more? Scarlet’s Dad hadn’t died till she was nine. Scarlet sucked in sharply at the possibility that her mother had been unable to conceive more babies. But if that were so, then why hadn’t she mentioned it to her? It might be an important clue over why she was having such trouble conceiving herself.

  Not that she could go out and ask her right now. They were both at the salon, working. Wednesday was always a busy day. It would be impossible to question her till they were on the way home late this afternoon.

  Janet knew, the moment she saw Scarlet’s pasty face and dull eyes, that her period had arrived. The poor darling, she thought sadly as she watched her daughter put on a smiling face for a client.

  ‘You know, don’t you, Mum?’ Scarlet said the moment they were alone in the car on the way home. She’d seen the sympathy in her mother’s eyes when she’d come out of the powder room a couple of hours earlier. The sympathy and the sadness.

  ‘Yes,’ was all Janet could bring herself to say. She was close to tears. Not for herself but for her daughter.

  ‘Mum, I’ve been thinking, was there any physical reason why you didn’t have more children?’

  Janet swallowed. She’d been expecting this question for ages.

  ‘Not that I know of,’ she answered truthfully. ‘I was thoroughly checked out, the same way you’ve been. One doctor said I wanted to fall pregnant too much. He said stress and tension can sometimes be the problem.’

  ‘Yes, I’ve read about that,’ Scarlet said. ‘That’s why couples sometimes fall pregnant after they’ve adopted a child.’

  ‘Your father and I were going to adopt a child,’ Janet confessed. ‘But then he was…’ She broke off, unable to continue.

  ‘Oh, Mum. I’m so sorry. I know how much you loved Dad.’ After the funeral, she’d listened to her mother cry at night for months and months. It never surprised Scarlet that her mother hadn’t ever dated again, or remarried. She’d been a one-man woman.

  Scarlet knew she’d never find that one true love like her mother had. But she was going to become a mother, come hell or high water. All afternoon, she’d been thinking about the letter John had left for her a month ago. When she’d first read it, she’d been incredibly touched, especially with his intuitive observations about her fragile nervous state. She’d almost changed her mind about going back to the clinic and rung him straight away. But, in the end, she simply hadn’t had the courage to take what would have been a really big step for her. It seemed so much simpler not to involve other people, and to not face the problem of actually having sex with John. Scarlet understood that sex for men was not the big deal it could be for women. For her, anyway. She’d become more edgy about it as she’d got older. Less confident. More… nervous.

  But the time for being Nervous Nelly was long gone. If she didn’t take John up on his offer she would always regret it.

  Of course, he might have changed his mind by now. God, she hoped not!

  Well, if he had, she’d just have to persuade him otherwise, Scarlet vowed with renewed resolve. If he waffled, she’d remind him how much he’d always wanted to have sex with her!

  Scarlet might have been shocked at herself if she hadn’t been so fired up.

  ‘Mum, I think that I might go away for a while. On a holiday.’

  ‘Oh? Where to?’

  ‘Somewhere warm. In Australia, of course. I don’t want to go overseas.’

  ‘Cairns is nice at this time of year,’ her mother suggested.

  ‘I was thinking of Darwin. I’ve never been there. And I’ve always wanted to see Kakadu.’ A total untruth. Scarlet had seen one or two documentaries about the Northern Territory and was not at all interested in vast wetlands filled with biting insects, wild buffalo and crocodiles.

  ‘Really?’ her mother said, sounding surprised.

  ‘I could go on some organised tours. That way I’d have company. You could manage without me, couldn’t you, Mum? Lisa would be happy to do more hours. Joanne, too.’

  ‘Of course I could manage. I managed when you left to be an estate agent, didn’t I? When were you thinking of going?’

  ‘Not sure yet. Possibly the end of next week.’ Scarlet knew exactly when she would ovulate. She’d been charting her cycle for months. Two weeks after her period started was the beginning of her peak days for conceiving. No point in going to Darwin much before then. At the same time, she had to make it seem like she was going on a real holiday. She could hardly just go for a few days.

  ‘For how long?’

  ‘Um. A week or so. Maybe ten days,’ she added for good measure.

  ‘So you won’t be going to the clinic for another procedure next month?’

  ‘No, Mum. I’ve decided to have a break from that for a while.’

  Her mother actually looked relieved. ‘I think that’s a good idea, love. And so’s this holiday. Who knows? You might meet a nice man.’

  ‘You never know, Mum,’ Scarlet said, then deftly changed the subject onto the traffic and the never-ending roadworks. She’d always been good at making conversation, but underneath her breezy chit-chat Scarlet was beginning to feel anxious about what John would say when she rang him. Which she fully intended to, at the first available moment. For if she procrastinated, her courage might falter.

  As soon as they arrived home, Scarlet made the excuse that she needed to lie down for a while. When her mother offered to make her a cup of tea, she declined, saying she was going to take some pain killers and have a short nap before dinner. Fortunately, it was her mother’s turn to cook. Also fortunately, Scarlet’s bedroom was at the back of the house, some way from the kitchen. Once her mother turned on the television, she would not hear Scarlet talking on the phone.

  Scarlet’s hands were literally shaking as she drew John’s letter out of the bedside drawer where she’d put it over a month ago. He’d given her two numbers, one for a regular mobile, one for a satellite phone. She sat on the side of her bed and tried the mobile number first. It rang, thank heavens. She would have hated for it to be engaged. As it was, she’d already worked herself up into a right state.

  ‘For pity’s sake, John, answer the damned thing,’ she muttered under her breath after it had rung several times.

  But he didn’t, and the phone eventually switched to his message bank. A despairing Scarlet didn’t leave any message, choosing instead to try the satellite phone first. She actually prayed as she punched in the numbers.

  CHAPTER NINE

  JOHN w
as putting a few more pieces of wood on the camp fire when he heard the distinctive ring of his satellite phone. Frowning, he crawled into his one-man tent, picked up the phone and carried it back out into the moonlight, where he stared at it briefly before sweeping the phone up to his ear.

  ‘Hello, Scarlet,’ he answered, trying to sound cool when inside he was anything but.

  John had been relieved at first when she hadn’t contacted him. Once he’d cleared his head, he’d told himself that it had been a crazy idea anyway. But as the days had crawled by, John’s every waking moment had been haunted by the thought of going home at Christmas and seeing Scarlet with a stranger’s child growing in her belly. Once again, he’d been repulsed by the idea.

  After several particularly restless nights, he’d been tempted to ring her. But what could he say that he hadn’t already said? It was obvious she didn’t want him to father her child. To have pursued the matter would have made him look foolish.

  So in the end, he’d done nothing. Literally. He hadn’t tried to find work with any of the mining companies. He hadn’t gone fishing, either, the way he usually did when he was holidaying in Darwin. Hadn’t done a damned thing. He had just moped around the place, watching endless movies on TV and doing way too much thinking. And way too much drinking. Bianca would have said he was running away from real life. Again.

  In the end, he’d had his heli-fishing mate drop him into this isolated spot for a few days and had been camping out alone. Nothing cleared the head better than communing with nature, he’d found.

  And it had worked, to a degree. He’d finally begun to see the sense of Scarlet’s decision not to accept his offer. Finally found some peace of mind over the situation. Or so he’d believed.

  It had only taken one little phone call to shatter that illusion.

  ‘How did you know it was me?’ she asked, clearly taken aback.

  ‘The caller ID said you were from New South Wales,’ he explained. ‘You’re the only person in that state who has my satellite number.’