'It's-difficult for me.'
`What's difficult for you?' he asked with what she thought was a father's admirable patience.
'Don't-er-don't make things difficult for me, Dad,' she said at last.
`For you?' he took up. `Difficult for you? How?' he questioned. She could feel herself going pink, but it was more from feeling awkward and inadequate that she had no answer for himm than anything else. But her father spotted her high colour and, having already noted that she seemed embarrassed to be having this conversation,
`Good Lord!' he exclaimed. `You're blushing!' And, plainly looking for reasons for her blush,
'Surely-you haven't-fallen for him?' he pondered.
And suddenly, her brain racing, Lydie was ready to grasp at any straw her father gave her. 'Is-is that so astonishing?' she asked, hoping, when she couldn't meet her father's eyes, that he would think her shy of discussing this topic with him.
He thought about it. `Well, I suppose not,' he to her surprise decided. `You had a giant-sized crush on him when you were a teenager...'
`You knew about that?' she asked, astounded, at last able to meet his eyes. But, looking quickly away, she assured him, `It isn't a crush this time, Dad.'
`Oh, baby,' he said, his own problems for the moment forgotten. `But you hardly know him! Apart from seven years ago, you've only seen him twice recently.'
`Three times, actually. I saw him at the theatre on Saturday.'
`You went to the theatre with him?' he questioned. `On Saturday, when you knew I wanted to see-'
`It wasn't like that,' she interrupted hurriedly. She didn't want her parent pursuing that track, but hoped he would think her reserve of old had reared its head, causing her to be unable to tell him anything about it either yesterday when she'd come home or at breakfast that morning. `But anyhow,' she plunged on, grabbing at the fact that her father had taken one look at her mother and that had been that for him, `how many times did you have to see Mother before you knew it was the real thing?'
With relief, Lydie saw her father had taken everything she said as gospel. They were away from the subject of that money anyway, and she guessed from his expression that he was recalling that his dear Hilary had not returned the compliment and fallen in love with him at first sight. She had taken some wooing, from what Greataunt Alice had told her.
`And how does Jonah feel about you?' her father asked with a father's natural concern.
`I-it's too early to say,' she answered, winging it, playing it by ear-desperately glad Jonah Marriott wasn't a fly on the wall, listening to all of this. `B-but he wanted to take me to dinner this coming Saturday.'
`He asked you for another date?' Lydie could feel herself colouring up that she had allowed her father to believe she had dated Jonah last Saturday. `You didn't come home on Saturday night!' her parent remembered, looking a little shaken. And, while colour scorched her cheeks at that implication, she was thankful for once that hostilities were still prevailing between her parents, otherwise her mother would have told her father that their youngest was having a sleepover at her friend Charlie's.
`I had to tell Jonah that I couldn't have dinner with him because I'm unsure what time Oliver's wedding celebrations will go on until,' Lydie said in an embarrassed rush. 'Er-Jonah asked if he could-er-come to the wedding too.'
Her father looked at her solemnly for a second or two, and then he smiled. `Well, that sounds as if he's keen enough,' he declared encouragingly. Lydie smiled faintly, very much confused that, purely in her father's interests, she had been able to make up this fantasy. 'You'd better ask your brother to see he gets an invitation.'
Lydie stared at her father. Agreed, she had been in very much of a lather, but it had been that easy? She was staggered. Well, that part of it had gone better than she had anticipated, but, `And you won't say anything to Jonah? At the wedding, I mean. About the money?"
'It would hardly be appropriate,' he admitted. `But you must see, Lydie, that I shall have to discuss it with him some time.'
She supposed she had known that. Her father was an honourable man. `But not now, not until some other time. I think he's away this week,' she lied on the spur of the moment. `Some conference or other. Abroad somewhere.'
`It will have to wait until next week, then,' her father agreed. But, looking at him, Lydie thought that although he was obviously still very much burdened, he suddenly did not seem to appear so hunched over as he had.
It was good to have Oliver home. He was a bit muddle-headed sometimes, but loveable-either because of or despite that. `Lydie !' he exclaimed when she and her father left the study and went into the drawing room. `How's life?' he asked, coming over and giving her a hug.
`Can't complain.' She grinned. `Looking forward to Saturday?'
`To tell you the truth, I'll be glad when it's all over and Madeline and I can go off and be by ourselves. Such a fuss! I tell you, if it were left to me we'd just nip into a registry office somewhere and do the deed-but Mrs Ward-Watson will have none of it.'
`Of course she won't,' his mother chipped in. `These things have to be done properly, Oliver. The Ward-Watsons can't have their only daughter sneaking off somewhere as if they've got something to hide.'
Oliver, it appeared, had endured more than one lecture on the subject and did not fancy another, even if it was from his adoring mother. `Any sign of you trotting up the aisle yet, Lydie?' he asked, more to take the limelight away from himself than anything.
About to say no, that she was more interested in children than grown men, Lydie just then caught her father's glance on her. `I...' she said, and faltered.
`You've gone red!' Oliver teased.
`Leave her be,' her father cut in. But, instead of making things better for her, succeeded in making her want to fall through the floorboards when he added, `Though there is someone you could invite to your wedding.' Oliver looked at him, interested; her mother looked at him questioningly. `Lydie's just started seeing Jonah Marriott. It would be a kindness if Mr and Mrs Ward-Watson sent him a wedding invitation.'
Oh, mercy! Lydie glanced to her mother, who was looking at her in total disbelief. `How long 's this been going on?' she asked sceptically.
'Lydie went to the theatre with him on Saturday,' Wilmot Pearson answered for her.
`I thought you went with Charlie somebody-orother?' Hilary Pearson challenged her daughter.
'I-er-didn't think you-um-cared for Jonah,' Lydie answered, making out she had been lying then about her theatre date with Charlie, but pink with embarrassment that she was lying now.
`What have you got against Jonah Marriott, Mother?' Oliver chipped in.
'I'm going for a walk,' Lydie said-cowardly, but it saved her telling a whole load more lieseven if she did seem to be getting rather good at it.
Oliver, who was not seeing his fiancee that evening, seemed to spend most of his time on the telephone to her, but he made it to the table at dinnertime and seemed quite blissful.
Lydie was glad he was there. Her mother could not help that he was her favourite and Lydie was perfectly happy that it was so. Particularly that evening when, her mother finding yet more matters to quiz him over, it rather took any inquisitive questions away from Lydie herself.
`Jonah should get his invitation in the post tomorrow, by the way,' Oliver informed her at one point. `You were still out walking when Madeline rang, but Dad was able to give me his address.'
`Oh, thanks,' she mumbled, glad her father had been able to find Jonah's address. She hadn't a clue where he lived.
Oliver and her parents were going to stay overnight in a hotel near his bride's home on Friday. This so they should not have far to travel the next day. The wedding was not taking place until the afternoon, so Lydie would have plenty of time in which to go and collect her great-aunt Alice. But there were days to be got through before Friday.
Uncomfortable with lies, but seemed called upon to tell them at every turn, Lydie wanted to keep as much out of her parents' way a
s possible. Which was why, on Tuesday, she did take herself off shopping for a wedding outfit.
She had some very nice outfits in her wardrobe, several of which would have been suitable, and she fretted for an absolute age about spending money she should give to Jonah Marriott. Then she decided that what she would spend would be a drop in the ocean compared with what she owed him. And somehow-and she was sure it had more to do with keeping out of her parents' way than the fact that Jonah would be a guest at the wedding-it seemed a good idea to shop for something new.
She returned to the home she so loved with several large glossy carriers. `You really have been to town,' her mother quipped when she went in, and was as delighted as Lydie had been at the lovely deep coral suit and its accessories she had purchased.
Oliver was unable to keep away from Madeline the next day, and left early and came home late.
But he declared on Thursday that Mrs WardWatson had said they could cope very nicely without his assistance from then on-and Madeline, it seemed, had a hundred and ten things she must attend to before the `big day'.
`Which leaves me having to ask my little sister to come and have a drink with me down at the Black Bull.'
`Since you ask so charmingly,' she accepted. Oliver's present friends were scattered around the country, apparently, but since some of them were converging on the same hotel tomorrow he was having his stag `do' then-with strict instructions not to get up to anything too outrageous.
`Have you and Madeline decided where to live yet?' Lydie asked when sitting in the Bull with a gin and tonic. Oliver took a swig of his pint.
`Didn't Mother tell you?' He laughed sunnily at the thought that that must be a first. 'Madeline and I are having a place built in the grounds of her parents' home.'
`Will you like that?' Lydie queried slowly, her feelings more and more for her brother, whose life seemed to be being taken over by the WardWatsons.
`You bet your life I will,' he declared stoutly. And, misinterpreting her entirely, 'I'd much rather have something new and up to date.'
That shook her more than somewhat. `You wouldn't rather have something with a bit of history to it?"
'Like Beamhurst?' He shook his head. `No, thanks! All Dad's ever done is chuck money at the place. It's no wonder he's skint! That place costs a mint to keep in good repair.' And while Lydie stared at him, incredulous that he didn't seem to appreciate that their father was `skint', as he called it, for no other reason than that he'd had to wade in there and rescue his son from his debts, Oliver went blithely on. `I told him on Tuesday, when Mother was bleating on about my inheritance, that if my inheritance included the white elephant Beamhurst I'd be just as happy to be left out of the will. Drink up,' he said, 'I'll get you another.'
He left her sitting stunned, and went up to the bar while Lydie tried to accept that just because she loved the old house it did not necessarily mean that Oliver had to. Even if he had been brought up there. By the sound of it, too, Oliver was quite cheerfully unaware that, through the mismanagement of his business, their father was in an extremely severe financial situation. As she had been sublimely unaware of the parlous state of their father's finances, so-incredibly-had her brother been! True, with Oliver getting engaged and wanting to be out of the house and off somewhere with Madeline all the while, it was doubtful that he had been in the house for more than half an hour at a stretch. But...
With her brother so excited and happy, and so looking forward to marrying his Madeline, now did not seem to be a good time to acquaint him with a few pertinent details.
It was a relief to wave goodbye to her parents and brother on Friday morning-a relief to be in the house with just her and Mrs Ross. No need to start getting uptight lest she be called on to evade some truth or other-or even tell a downright lie. And what lies she had told, albeit in the interests of her still very worried-looking father. Those lies had been told ultimately for her mother's peace of mind too.
But Lydie was plagued by the thought that, come Saturday, she was somehow going to have to make it appear that she and Jonah had been `intimate friends' and that they were well on the way to being `an item'. Oh, save us! Then, should she be able to overcome that mighty obstaclewithout Marriott Esquire being or becoming aware that he had been designated her 'beau'she had to learn what he had come up with in respect of the fifty-five thousand pounds she owed him. One way and another Lydie could not say that she was looking forward to her brother's wedding all that much.
Saturday dawned bright and beautiful and Lydie decided to go and call for her great-aunt in plenty of time. She was about to leave the house, however, when Charlie Hillier rang. `I thought you might like to come and have a meal with me,' he said straight away, sounding just a hint not his normal self.
`When were you thinking of?' Lydie asked. He was a friend; she sensed something was troubling him.
`Tonight would be good.'
'Charlie! It's my brother's wedding today ! I can't.'
`Sorry, I forgot. Tomorrow, then? Come to dinner.'
Fleetingly she thought of how she was supposed to be dating Jonah Marriott. Could she pretend to her parents that her date tomorrow was with him? Oh, Lord, she was getting herself into all sorts of bother here ! 'I'd love to, Charlie,' she said quickly. Br-is anything the matter?'
He was silent, and she could almost hear him blushing when, all in a rush, he blurted out, `That new woman-the one I told you about-Rowena Fox-she's asked me out!'
Poor Charlie, Lydie mused as she drove to her great-aunt's house. He was in one almighty flap. Without a doubt he would not mind at all going out with the unable-to-wait-to-be-asked Rowena, but with astonishing lack of self-confidence just knew something would go wrong if he did-and that Rowena would never stop laughing at him. Charlie was in urgent need of some confidencebolstering. That, Lydie knew, would be her role tomorrow. Meantime, there was her brother's wedding to attend.
`Will I pass muster with your mother?' Alice Gough asked, ready and waiting when she answered the door to her great-niece.
`You look terrific!' Lydie beamed, admiring her great-aunt's silk dress and straw hat.
They did not leave straight away, Alice decreeing, `I've made some sandwiches. We might as well eat them now. The formalities and photographs at these dos take for ever-heaven alone knows when we'll eat again.'
They were at the church in good time, and were ushered into their pew immediately behind Lydie's parents. Lydie smiled encouragingly as her rather strained-looking brother, who was seated in front of her parents with his best man, looked over his shoulder to her. Her mother too had turned in her seat, and Lydie saw her mother give her great-aunt the once-over-and spotted great-aunt Alice doing likewise. Both appeared satisfied, and Lydie and her great-aunt took their seats and awaited the events.
Lydie didn't know how her brother's insides were that morning, but hers were very definitely on the fidget. Why did Jonah Marriott want to come to the wedding anyway? Him and his, `I like weddings. Provided they're someone else's.' He wasn't remotely interested in this particular wedding. He just wanted to make her sweat, that was all.
She was not too clear why he would want to make her sweat. What was clear to her was that she had never felt so on edge. She hoped he wouldn't come, that he would fail to turn upand then realised that, should he not come, she would be the one left looking a fool. The things she'd invented to get him an invitation !
Lydie's great-aunt Alice had the seat nearest the aisle so that, being shorter than Lydie, she should have a good view of the wedding procession when it arrived. But Lydie's thoughts were more on Jonah Marriott, and her growing certainty that he would not come. She started to quite hate him-making her look a fool like that. Heaven alone knew what fresh lies she would now have to tell to cover his non-appearance.
Suddenly, though, she became aware that a tall man had strolled up the aisle and was standing at the entrance to their pew. She looked over to him, and her insides somersaulted. She was not sure her heart di
d not give a little flip too. He had come.
Their eyes met. He looked superb. Tall, immaculately suited, those fantastic blue eyes-not to mention he was extremely good looking-and sophisticated with it. 'Lydie,' he greeted her.
She flicked her gaze from him for a moment, and found her voice. `Jonah, I don't think you know my great-aunt, Miss Alice Gough. Aunty, Jonah Marriott, a fr-friend of mine.'
`Pleased to know you, Miss Gough.' Jonah pleasantly shook hands with her and then moved into the pew to go in front of Lydie and take a seat beside her. Whereupon he bent close to her ear, and asked, 'Where's the boyfriend?'
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