 
### Petulant Rainbow

### Herbert Howard Jones

Copyright © Herbert Howard Jones 2020

The right of Herbert Howard Jones to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted by him in accordance with sections 77 and 78 of the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act, 1988.

This is a work of fiction. Opinions expressed in this book do not necessarily reflect the author's own views.

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Book cover design by H.H. Jones

### Contents

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

About the author

Other books by Herbert Howard Jones

Chapter One

By the time summer had appeared, it was practically autumn. Geraldine Ryans stood in the middle of the garden smoking a cigarette and enjoying the late arriving clement weather. She really needed to get going or she would miss her train. But she was reluctant to move from her almost rooted position. She felt relaxed like a horse sleeping on its feet. She would rather just sunbathe in the garden than go traipsing up to town. It would be such a waste of a nice afternoon. She didn't want to leave the comfort of Larkford, her family home for years. But the clock was ticking away.

She was grateful that she had Larkford and had held onto it with all her might. Unlike everything else that she had loved and lost. Her attachment to her home blinded her to what was wrong with it. A local builder had given her a list of the problems. It was a horrific itemisation and it mainly had to do with damp damage. The roof, thank goodness was fine, but the walls needed doing and the floors had subsided slightly. This fact scared her a little.

She and her mother had discussed how to get some repairs done without spending a fortune. But that had been just before her mother became seriously unwell. The hospital diagnosed her as having abdominal aortic aneurysm. Fortunately, the survival rates of patients with this condition had improved considerably, but her health had disintegrated, nonetheless. Her father had died two years previously and so her mother's illness was a major worry. After the diagnosis, Geraldine was too concerned for her mother to bother with house repairs.

However, she couldn't think to live anywhere else and would probably stay put, even if the house did fall down around her. Geraldine also liked the seclusion of Larkford too. It was hidden away down country lanes as an isolated property. The nearest village was Welton.

She gazed at the colourful flower beds that ran along the wall of the building, almost in a kind of a trance as she finished her cigarette. Checking her watch for the umpteenth time, she frowned. It was time to get a move on, or she would miss her solicitor's appointment in the neighbouring town of Rodean. But the garden always had a powerful emotional hold over her as she had enjoyed many happy hours in it as a child. It was also where Flight Lieutenant Johnny Leonard had proposed to her.

That day had been a magical day. He had sworn always to be true to her, and she had been swept up in his vision of their future together. It was an emotionally charged afternoon, and she couldn't wait to tell her parents that she had agreed to an engagement. They unhesitatingly shared her joy and approved of her choice of husband. She had felt like the happiest girl in the world.

As her thoughts came back to her parents, she had to fight back the tears. Crying had been something she'd been doing a lot of lately. However, now was not the time to dissolve into a puddle of emotion. Both parents were gone, and she needed to be strong and learn to accept the fact. Who said that life was going to be a bed of roses?

However, her mother had died just three months earlier, and she was only beginning to come to terms with it. It helped that Geraldine had been working with the executor of her mother's Will and there was quite a lot of paperwork to be done. Money was also due to be released from her mother's life policy but there had been a hold-up.

Geraldine shook her blonde head. The last thing she wanted to do was smudge her mascara, so she took three deep breaths and managed to get control of herself. She had better get going. Charles Malverne, her father's former solicitor, had left a message for her to go and see him at his office. She was annoyed that he wasn't more specific. What was the urgency? A letter might have been helpful. Instead, he was almost demanding that she go to the office as soon as possible, which she felt was disrespectful. Clearly something had come up, but what? Perhaps it was something to do with her mother's life policy. Her parents had been paying into it for donkey's years, so surely it wasn't that?

From her knowledge of probate, she knew that Larkford, the beloved house that she had been born in, loved and cherished, was now hers. Her mother had been determined to make sure of that. It was like the last arbour of security and a reminder of the happy family life Geraldine once knew. But perhaps there were still some minor formalities which needed to be attended to before the house could be put in Geraldine's name. Or possibly the solicitor wanted to give her some advice, as there had not been much spendable cash left over in the Will. But Geraldine already knew this. Frankly, the suspense was killing her.

****

Four hours later Geraldine was back at Larkford after seeing the solicitor, and was sitting in the study, a glass of vodka in her hand, staring at the carpet. Her face was still burning from her heated conversation with the solicitor and she was quite stunned. What the solicitor had to say was a shock to her system because it undermined everything she had been comfortably expecting.

`I'm sorry to have to tell you that there's been a complication and it can't easily be resolved,' the solicitor, Charles Malverne had said, his face sombre. 'Also, there is very little actual money to speak of in the estate...'

'I realise that,' Geraldine had replied. 'But what about the life policy? I understand there was fifty thousand pounds in it. My parents paid into it for ages.'

The solicitor nodded his head as he stared at the documents on the desk in front of him. 'No longer,' he said.

'No longer?' Geraldine repeated confused.

'The insurance company went into liquidation eighteen months ago and the accounts were transferred to a company in Gibraltar. There's been a freeze on all their cash and assets.'

'So what are you saying?' Geraldine asked as she started to grow concerned.

There was hesitation in the solicitor's voice when he said, 'I'm saying that getting the title to your home will be subject to certain provisos that your mother introduced into her Will!'

'Provisos? She never said anything about provisos to me,' Geraldine replied anxiously.

'These conditions, I assure you, were made in your best interests,' the solicitor said. 'Your mother knew that the life insurance policy had nose-dived but didn't want to tell you. But basically, she has stipulated that, as there is a fair bit outstanding on the mortgage, the property should be placed into a Trust. We would be your landlords until such time as you can raise the capital or cash to pay off the mortgage. The mortgage provider has agreed to this and awaits your signature. They will accept a third of the monthly premium for now and half the current monthly repayments. However, you will also have to pay our management fees as well as the ground rent.'

Geraldine blinked. 'How much is owed on the mortgage?'

'One hundred and twenty thousand pounds,' the solicitor replied.

'Okay, so I'll get a bank loan,' she said.

'You can't! You couldn't re-mortgage your house because you are in negative equity,' the solicitor replied. 'Your property has structural problems, subsidence etc and it is now worth less than the original valuation. Also, prices have dropped significantly in your area. Such is the market. We are your only hope, otherwise the property will be repossessed!'

With the solicitor's ominous words echoing in her head, Geraldine returned home to her beloved Larkford and fixed herself a drink. In one foul swoop, her whole life had been handed over to a firm of crabby solicitors on a plate. She now felt owned. She also didn't really understand all the implications of the red tape.

At that moment her mobile phone rang, and she immediately took the call. The number displayed on her phone's screen was Franny Henson's, a family friend who was also a neighbour. 'Hey, how's it going?' Franny asked cheerfully. She knew that Geraldine was still in mourning over her mother's passing.

'Don't ask!' Geraldine replied. 'How are you and William?'

'We are very much looking forward to our holiday in the Bahamas, thank you very much, coming up soon now!' Franny said almost smugly.

'Oh yes that's right,' Geraldine replied trying to be cheerful in her turn. 'You lucky people. Haven't got a care in the world!'

'I wouldn't say that!' Franny said. 'But we will be away for three whole months and so we are going to have a little see-you-later party. And also to ask if you'd watch our house for us while we're away!'

Geraldine gasped. 'What!'

'I mean just drive by every so often and check the alarm.'

'I suppose I could manage that,' Geraldine said reluctantly.

'So, you up for it?' Franny asked. 'The party, I mean?'

'I'm not sure,' Geraldine said. 'I've got a few things on my mind at the moment.' She also wasn't too keen on Franny's choice of friends who seemed a bit bohemian in her view. They'd all be there for the free wine and whatever. She had gone to one of Franny's parties a while back with Johnny Leonard and didn't really gel with the company.

_'Oh do come!'_ Franny pleaded. 'It will get you away from that rambling old house for a couple of hours.'

'I actually rather like being in my rambling old house!' Geraldine replied.

'Of course you do!' Franny said quickly. 'You and Larkford are so...well suited. I couldn't imagine anyone else living there. Apart from you and Johnny of course. _Oh sorry!'_

Geraldine gritted her teeth. Franny had just remembered that Johnny Leonard was a sore point with Geraldine. They had only been engaged for a brief time before Johnny called it off.

'Geri, I've got to rush but we would love you to come to the bash,' Franny said. 'The party is a week on Friday, and you don't have to stay long. Just stop by and say hello!'

Geraldine put down her phone feeling slightly irritated. She liked Franny and William, and as a couple they were decent people. But they were sometimes a little too cheerful and tended to speak without thinking. However, Geraldine was content for the moment to be in her own company as she tried to deal with her recent bad news regarding the house.

Geraldine slapped the arm of the chair. Why didn't her mother tell her about the defunct policy? Surely this was important information that she needed to know. Geraldine screwed up her fists. _'God, God, God!'_ she muttered. The thought that she would now be a tenant in her own home was too painful to think about. And if she didn't keep up the mortgage payments, even if they had been sliced in half, then what? Would Charles Malverne, her less than charming solicitor, turf her out? Was the firm eager to acquire the house for their own corporate portfolio? It certainly had some sort of historical significance.

No, she thought, she couldn't bear to lose Larkford to them, the stuffy old sods. It was her home, her bit of paradise on earth when everything else had turned sour. Her mind flipped back to Johnny Leonard. What he had done was hurtful beyond words, but she knew perfectly well why he had opted out of their engagement, which was a year ago and still painful.

The turnaround from happy young woman to a hurt humiliated one had happened in a flash. One moment she had been so full of joy and expectations, so glad to be alive, and then a letter had arrived from Johnny, completely unexpectedly. It was such a contrast to the phone call of a few days before from him which was so brimming full of love and respect. They talked about the wedding. It would be the village's highlight of the year.

By contrast the letter that arrived seventy-two hours later was an abomination, a betrayal, a violent shock to her delicate system. As she read the letter, her breath had got shorter and shorter, and she felt the blood drain from her face. It was full of the worst bad news. Johnny was an RAF Flight Lieutenant, two blue stripes on his shoulder board, or NATO code OF-2, as he had been fond of telling her. This meant he was always away, and this clearly posed a danger to their relationship. In fact, the letter was a realisation of her worst fears. He had found somebody else.

Her mother just happened to be standing next to her when she had opened Johnny's letter. 'Are you alright?' she had asked.

With her hands trembling Geraldine had handed over his letter. Her mother quickly read the first paragraph and immediately got the jist of it. _'So he's found someone else? I can't believe it!'_

Geraldine stared at her. 'It's because he's always on the move,' she said by way of an explanation. 'He went to Canada for a week and it must have happened there.'

'Yes, but the decent thing would have been to come and see you and explain in person, not just to fob you off with a letter!' her mother replied.

'He probably couldn't get away, you know what the RAF is like,' Geraldine replied unable to fully take in the situation.

She could have phoned him at the base, and he could have phoned her. But Geraldine left the situation as it was, expecting him to come back with an apology, or make some gesture. But nothing happened. Before she knew it, two weeks had flown by and she had to abandon her part-time job in the local bookshop where she did the mail orders. She had become very deeply depressed and the bookshop manager told her to take some time off. Her state of mind deteriorated so much that her mother had to call the local GP. It was as if she had lost the will to live, and her appetite suffered, and she began to lose weight.

The local GP, Dr Carson, was of the old school and inclined to think depression was a bit of a new-fangled bad excuse for not wanting to do anything. He privately called it 'a touch of pathetic apathy', but still nonetheless prescribed the routine anti-depressants. Her mother had to remind Geraldine to take them in the belief that they would help her. Her mother was very supportive and understood what her daughter was going through. They would sit out in the garden and have long chats. Geraldine would declare that Johnny was the love of her life and that she would never find another man like him. _'RAF officers do not grow on trees,'_ she said.

'Well, if that's what they are like, _you can keep them!_ ' her mother had replied.

Geraldine shook her head. Her heart and soul belonged to Johnny Leonard, and she knew she would never get over him. 'I wonder what dad would say if he was still alive?' she wondered out loud.

'He'd want to box Johnny's ears,' her mother said cattily. 'But you'll get over this, darling, there are plenty of fish in the sea.'

'Yes and all the best ones have been caught!' Geraldine replied.

'You'll find someone else, I promise,' her mother assured her.

'But I don't want anyone else,' Geraldine said as tears came to her eyes. 'And I know that I have been weak. Perhaps that's why he's fallen for someone else.'

By this she meant that she had behaved somewhat like a well-trained puppy, always being there for him. Living just for his needs, his requests, his wants. Always waiting for him to phone and then trying hard not to pester him when he didn't, and then giving in to the impulse. Thinking back, it almost was as if the wedding had been a fantasy of hers that she had foisted onto him, and he had agreed out of politeness. But her attentiveness might have been too much. Perhaps she had frightened him off.

Geraldine went to the minibar and poured herself another drink. Since her mother's passing, she had been drinking like a fish. Her thoughts went back to the solicitor's ominous warning that the house that she loved could be repossessed if the mortgage payments were not kept up. Or at least. this is how she understood the situation. And despite all her mother's support and encouragement, she had betrayed her at the last hurdle. The house was now in Trust to a firm of cold-hearted businessmen pretending to be a caring firm of family solicitors.

How could her mother have done that? Perhaps she had no other choice. Admittedly money was short, but then the solicitor did not know about the money her father had left in a suitcase, which Geraldine had found after her mother's death. Even her mother didn't appear to know about it. It was fifteen thousand pounds in rolls with elastic bands around them, and it was old denomination. The suitcase was in the attic, a place where her mother rarely went. Her father must have put it there and forgot about it. Or at least he had never mentioned it during his lifetime.

This was why Geraldine felt that she could get by until she could secure a better job and perhaps put a tenant in the house as well. She could use the money to pay off some of the mortgage and the blessed premium and wouldn't be saddled with fees and ground rent. She was sure that her father would never agree to the idea of the house being put into a Trust. Her father would have been outraged. He had never really liked Charles Malverne, the solicitor. But the solicitor was the one now in control as he followed the dictates of her mother's Will.

Geraldine sat down with her drink and remembered a conversation she had with her father a number of years ago after she had left that tough Catholic School. She had been a boarder and hated every minute but had to admit they were wonderful teachers and educators. The sisters of the Carmine College for Young Women were really saintly and loving but overly dedicated to their mission. It had been too much for a girl like Geraldine, who was slightly timid by nature.

When she left Carmine, somewhat prematurely, she opted not to further her education but to stay at home and help around the house. It was after all, a large property needing at least three pairs of hands to keep up with the cleaning and dusting. Her mother welcomed it and her father didn't mind. It saved paying for a cleaner. However, one day at the corner shop, shop proprietor made a comment. He asked Geraldine, jokingly, if she minded being her dad's live-in domestic!

Geraldine was quite taken back by this remark and didn't know how to reply to it. She mentioned it to her father later. She remembered that he frowned and then he said _, 'You can go out and get a job whenever you like_. I'm not forcing you to help your mother! But we don't want her to have another episode like the one she had a few years back, do we?'

Geraldine had no recollection of the episode that her father was referring to because she had been at Carmine at the time. 'What was that?' she had enquired.

Her father had looked at her realising that she hadn't been aware of anything out of the ordinary where her mother was concerned. With a sigh, he began to explain. It was a long rambling story. But in essence it revealed to a shocked Geraldine that her mother had had a drinking problem, compounded with bouts of depression and suicide attempts.

'Your mother hates Larkford,' her father told her. 'It's too dark and gloomy as far as she is concerned, and you being at home helps her to cope.'

'That's good then,' Geraldine had replied.

'But when you were in bed we used to quarrel, quite bitterly, and tried to hide it from you,' her father explained.

'What was it over?'

'It's a long story,' her father said. 'Your mother thought when she married me, she was marrying into money, but it turned out to be a big disappointment for her. This house gives a false impression of wealth. Actually, it has been a big drain on my finances. I couldn't afford a maid and so the responsibility of keeping the house going fell on your mother. So, frankly I was overjoyed when you offered to stay at home and help out rather than get a job after Carmine. And if the people around here don't like the idea, they can take a run and jump!'

Geraldine had nodded but couldn't quite visualise her mother as a suicide or a bad drinker, although she knew she liked to have wine at mealtimes. 'Was that why you sent me away to Carmine?' she asked. 'Because of the way mother was?'

'That and other reasons,' her father confessed. 'I mean, I haven't been the best of husbands. But I must say the older you get the more like your mother you have become. It is quite uncanny. Certainly in appearance.'

Geraldine was quite pleased with that observation, but couldn't help asking, 'So what was that episode then? The one you just mentioned.'

Her father had pulled a face. 'Your mother jumped from the attic window didn't she and broke her ankles!'

Geraldine's eyes had widened. 'No! You mean that time she was in hospital? But I thought it was for pneumonia?'

'The consultant thought it best not to tell you it was a suicide attempt,' her father said.

It was a revealing conversation. Geraldine worried that her mother was going to take her own life one day. But it turned out that her father was the one to die first from natural causes. Or at least as natural as liver failure due to drinking could be.

However, in all truth, going to Carmine meant that she lost three years that she could have spent at home getting to know her father better. In that year away, she had begun to learn Latin and domestic science and discovered a talent for cooking. The tragedy was, that he had died very soon after they'd had that heart to heart. It was probably the most in-depth conversation that she had ever had with him, as he was always at work.

He also confessed that her mother had been against her going to Carmine in the first place. He had looked at Geraldine with sad eyes. 'She was shocked that I could have done such a thing, send you away like I did. But it was to protect you, from your mother's possible excesses.'

'Excesses?' Geraldine said. 'You mean, I could have come to harm?'

Her father had shrugged at this question. 'Who knows. Surely you must have detected something when you were younger?'

Geraldine was thoughtful. 'I might have done. I was just in my own world as a kid, and I did hear you arguing at night, but it was all sweetness and light by the next morning.'

He nodded. 'In the end, I decided to bring you back, because I saw how it was affecting your mother. You being away at Carmine meant that she was on her own all day until I returned from London at night. It was an ill-thought out move on my part to send you away. It was at that time that your mother threw herself out of the attic window. So, I had no choice but to listen what she was trying to tell me in no uncertain terms.'

Geraldine gave her father a hug. 'Thank God she lived.'

'Thank God,' he replied hugging his daughter back.

The conversation with her father prompted the thought that she might have suicidal tendencies herself. And when Johnny Leonard had thrown her over for another woman, it was true, she did wonder whether life was worth the living. If her father had lived long enough to witness Johnny's rejection of her, she was sure that he would have been on tenterhooks.

But watching her father fall ill in those last few months of his life was a chastening memory. Geraldine was sure the stress of work and all that commuting, and her unstable mother had contributed to his deterioration. Although to be fair, her mother had always tried to be strong in front of her daughter, and so Geraldine hadn't really seen her unstable side. Perhaps, Geraldine thought, she had been too self-absorbed to notice her mother's frail mental condition. All she knew, was that when her father succumbed to his illness and passed away, her mother had seemed more positive. Strangely, she had seemed almost relieved.

With these recollections buzzing around in her mind, Geraldine re-focussed on the present and the situation she was now in, courtesy of her mother. From what Geraldine understood regarding the position with Larkford, more signatures were required. The solicitor, Charles Malverne had said that they were in the process of drawing up the conditions and particulars as they related to the setting up of the Trust. She would then be required to look them over. And so perhaps the Title of the house was, for the moment, still in freefall, waiting to be neatly tied up by the solicitor. Perhaps Geraldine could still bring the unpalatable legal processes to a halt.

For the last few days, she had been a bit neglectful, and the house was somewhat in disarray. Geraldine knew that she couldn't just mope around forever, even if she was in mourning. So she got up from her chair, put her drink down and started doing some housework. It was while she was attending to the washing-up that she saw Dr Carson coming up the drive to the house.

She was a little surprised to see him but just assumed he was being conscientious. He had been very supportive at her mother's funeral and he seemed genuinely concerned about her. This was no doubt a follow up call. She took off her apron and patted her hair and opened the front door before he knocked. He smiled, which had the effect of making him look younger. But she knew that he was about thirty-five, which made him ancient by her standards, being twenty-four herself. He had taken over the village practise from his father, Dr Carson 'the grumpy one' as he was known.

' _Dr Carson, what a surprise?'_ she said stepping back from the door.

'Call me Colin, is it alright to come in for a mo'?'

She nodded. 'Of course. Can I make you a tea or something?'

'I wouldn't say no, white with no sugar,' he responded as he followed her through to the little parlour just off the kitchen.

Although Geraldine didn't mind the doctor just showing up out of the blue, she was hoping to get some chores done. But he was unlikely to stay long. She waved him onto the little sofa.

'Oh, it's nice to sit down,' he said. 'Been on my feet since six this morning!'

'A doctor's work is never done,' she replied as she went to put on the kettle just a few feet away in the kitchen.

'No, not when there's the prospect of the Asian flu coming to our shores,' he replied. 'So we need to be prepared for the unexpected!'

She quickly dunked a teabag into a mug of hot water, topped it up with milk and brought it in to him. He took the mug gratefully. 'So how are you then, Geraldine? And I'm asking as a physician?'

'I'm fine,' she replied dishonestly.

He nodded. 'Do you require another prescription for the anti-depressants?'

She shook her head. 'I've still got half a bottle of tablets.

Dr Carson took a sip of his hot drink. 'Well, whenever you need topping up, you can just turn up at the surgery anytime. The pharmacy will renew your prescription immediately.'

She nodded. 'Oh that's good. But the nice weather helps my mood.'

'It certainly would,' Dr Carson said. 'Nothing like a pleasant walk in lovely weather when you're feeling down to improve the spirits.'

'I'll be tidying up the garden later,' she said.

'Ah good, good,' he said. 'But try not to spend too much time on your own.'

'Well, I'd rather be alone for a while as I get used to mum not being around.'

`I know, it's difficult,' he said sympathetically. 'I had trouble adjusting when my father died. But life goes on!'

'So they say,' she said with a weak smile. She stared at him, waiting for him to get to the point.

He suddenly stood up and drained his mug. 'That was refreshing, thank you.'

She nodded. 'Anytime. _So was that it?_ You just came to check on my prescription?'

'Well, yes,' he said. 'And I was wondering whether you were going to Franny Henson's party?'

She raised her eyebrows quizzically. 'Oh, are you going too?'

'I was invited,' the doctor said.

'So was I, and I think I might go, depending on how I feel,' she replied. But she had already made up her mind that she wasn't going. It would be too much of a strain and she would have to try and be cheerful all the time.

'Well, if you do, we'll probably bump into each other,' he said with a smile.

She took his mug and followed him as he walked to the front door which she opened.

He nodded to her and bade her goodbye and left. She smiled noncommittally and closed the door with a sigh. As pleasant as the man was, she felt it was an intrusion. She made up her mind that wild horses would not be able to drag her to that blessed party!

She put the doctor's mug on the draining board in the kitchen and went out into the garden, her thoughts once again going around in circles. She wondered if the doctor had another agenda where she was concerned. She knew her mother approved of him. As soon as she had this thought, tears sprang into her eyes as she recalled looking down into the casket at her mother in the funeral parlour. Her mother had looked so vulnerable, so tiny, yet so alive. It was difficult to believe she was dead.

Geraldine wiped her eyes and went over to the flower beds and made a note of what needed to be pruned. Everything from what she could tell. It was normally something her mother did.

Over the next few days, Geraldine tried to take stock of her situation in a clear minded and unemotional way. It seemed that she had recently lost the things and people who were most important to her - Johnny Leonard, her mother and now possibly Larkford. The loss of her father two years ago was bad enough and she had barely come to terms with that. But as Dr Carson said, life goes on. However, what was the point, if it also robbed you of the people you loved most of all? To keep these thoughts from depressing her further, Geraldine kept herself busy.

Before she knew it, the week flew by and it was Friday. She had filled the intervening days trying to get everything around the house back up to standard, but her mother was a hard act to follow. Geraldine had even given the shrubs in the garden a trim, but the task was gargantuan. She had also deliberately ignored her phone when it rang. Especially when Franny Henson called. But as a tactic this patently wasn't going to work. That very day, Franny turned up at Geraldine's garden gate again with a wondering look in her eye.

'Ah, there you are!' Franny said. 'Ignoring my calls isn't going to stop me being your friend!'

'I wasn't, honest, but I've been so busy,' Geraldine replied brazenly. 'But I _was_ going to call you back, I promise!'

Franny smiled. 'The times I've heard _that_ one!'

'Would you like a tea, I was just about to make one?' Geraldine asked feeling a bit guilty.

'Oh yes please!' Franny said opening the gate and surveying the garden. 'Well, I must say, you're certainly doing a good job!'

'Gardening isn't my first love,' Geraldine confessed. 'But I can't afford the fifteen pounds an hour to hire a gardener.'

They wandered into the kitchen where Geraldine put the kettle on. Franny went and settled in the little parlour and made herself comfortable.

Geraldine quickly brewed up the pot and brought the tea and biscuits in on a plastic tray. She placed it carefully on the coffee table. 'I know why you're here, Franny!'

Franny pulled a comical face. 'Well, we both know why we're here. But I know that unless I put the pressure on, you're not going to come tonight!'

Geraldine sat down next to her friend on the sofa. She knew Franny meant well, but sometimes she could be a bit insensitive. 'Fran, I've been having second thoughts.'

'Look, Geraldine, you can't refuse,' Franny said. 'We've practically made you the guest of honour!'

' _What!_ ' Geraldine said her eyes flashing. 'Please, tell me you're kidding?'

'Well, perhaps I am exaggerating a little bit,' her friend said. 'But to tell you the truth, I am a bit miffed that you ignored my calls.'

' _I didn't, I swear to God,_ ' Geraldine said with a giveaway grin.

'Liar!'

'Look, Franny, I don't mean to be horrible, but I'm just not in the party mood.'

'If you don't come to this party, I'll never invite you to another one again!'

' _I could live with that!'_ Geraldine said with a loud laugh.

Franny slapped her playfully on the wrist. 'Oh, you are such a cat! Anyway, Dr Carson will be there, and I told him you were coming.'

Geraldine's face suddenly became serious. 'Oh really.'

'To be honest, we are all concerned about you,' Franny said taking a sip of her tea.

'Well you don't need to be,' Geraldine said.

'You've lost weight!'

'Everyone loses weight when their parents pass away.'

'But in your case, it's quite dramatic,' Franny said eyeing her friend. 'You're all cheekbones and skinny arms!'

'Well I like being thin,' Geraldine replied. 'And it's not as if I'm not eating. I had a beef pie for supper last night with chips and peas!'

Franny took a deep breath and sighed. 'Good, I'm glad to hear it! And you've been out in the garden all day, so obviously you've got bags of energy. So you've got no excuse not to come to this party tonight. _And that's an order!'_

Geraldine took two quick sips of her tea, enjoying its sweetness. 'Does it really mean so much to you?'

'Yes! If you don't come, I will never speak to you again, _unless of course I need to borrow some sugar!'_

Geraldine shrugged. 'Look, okay, I'll come on one condition.'

Franny's eyes lit up. 'Anything, what?'

'You'll let me go after an hour?'

' _Two hours!'_

'An hour and a half,' Geraldine said. 'And that's my final offer.'

' _Done!'_ Franny replied draining her cup. She stood up. 'Good, now I've got to get back. Got plenty of stuff to do before it all kicks off. _And I will expect you there at seven!'_

Geraldine watched her friend go and suddenly regretted letting her pressure her into going. But she couldn't back out now. Despite Franny's light-hearted nature, it would be unforgivable to say she was coming and then not turn up.

****

Around about five pm, Geraldine decided to start getting ready. Franny's house was only a five-minute jaunt in the car, so she had plenty of time. Geraldine scanned her wardrobe and found some old dresses which were zipped up in protective garment bags. They were from a few years back and would definitely fit her, but they needed to be dry-cleaned.

Eventually, she found one of her mother's plain dresses which fitted just fine, as she was a slimmer woman. Geraldine had been heavier but having lost weight meant she was practically now on a par with her mother's size. Also, the dress, a red modern satiny number, had been chosen by Geraldine herself, but her mother had never worn it. It was perfect and had been recently cleaned.

Sitting at the vanity table in the bedroom, she brushed her hair and surveyed her face. No doubt, it was thinner, but it wasn't as bad as Franny suggested it was. She certainly wasn't all skin and bones. Just slimmed down a bit. Although to be sure, her eyes had shrunken into her head, but they looked more intense for all that. Actually, from her perspective, she didn't look at all bad; younger even.

Before she knew it, an hour had passed and so she quickly put the final touches to her make-up. Then she zipped herself up into her mother's red dress and jumped into her mother's classic metallic blue Jaguar, which had been inherited from her father. They were a family that treasured expensive things, and the car was always kept in immaculate condition. It never failed to turn heads when Geraldine pulled up in it and got out. She drove up to the Franny's sprawling luxurious bungalow and found that there was no room on the driveway to park, so she found a space on the road.

Geraldine never failed to marvel at how many friends Franny and her husband appeared to have. And many of them quite well-to-do, and this may have been because of Franny's husband's profession. He was a trader and wrote a financial column for a provincial newspaper. Apparently, it all paid very well. As Geraldine walked up the drive, she became aware of some sophisticated jazz music wafting out of a window and realised that Franny had hired some musicians for the evening.

The front door was wide open and from what Geraldine could see, the house was packed with guests wearing a variety of general clothing. There was casual and smart and even some black tie here and there. Geraldine sighed with relief; she wasn't going to stand out like a sore thumb.

People she didn't know turned and smiled at her. Then she spotted Franny, dressed up to the nines in a creation that looked as if it had come out of a Hollywood prop department. And it really suited her. Her makeup and hair had obviously been sweated over too.

Franny turned at that moment and threaded herself through the crowd with two champagne glasses and pushed one into Geraldine's hand. _'Oh darling you look ravishing!'_ Franny said in a put-on posh voice.

'Happy going-away-day!' Geraldine replied.

' _It's happy-see-you-later day, actually_ ,' Franny said with a grin. 'We'll be gone for three whole months!'

'Any excuse to go on a non-stop binge!' Geraldine observed taking a sip of her drink. She followed Franny through to the spacious lounge which was wall-to-wall with guests. Geraldine spotted the little jazz quartet, set up in the corner surrounded by their coterie of enthusiasts.

'Now, have a few more sips of your drink and I'll do some introductions,' Franny said.

'Oh, don't worry,' Geraldine replied. 'I won't be staying long.'

'Now now!' Franny chided. 'Don't be a wet blanket, after all we're not going to see you until the new year!'

Geraldine was just about to reply when Franny was tapped on the shoulder by a large well-dressed woman who immediately engaged her in conversation. Geraldine gave the woman a weak smile and then turned her attention to survey the guests to see how many of the locals she could spot. Invariably, at Franny's parties, the village parson, the postmaster, the butcher and the local police inspector would be invited. She spotted them in a ring around Franny's husband, William and he was gesticulating and making a shape in the air with his hands. They were all laughing uproariously. William gave Geraldine a quick friendly glance and waved. She grinned and waved back.

But despite herself, Geraldine couldn't help wondering if Dr Carson had turned up yet. Franny hadn't mentioned him. Geraldine then slowly did a rotation on the spot while she waited for Franny to get back to her. Franny was now quite deep in conversation with someone else, and even though she was only two feet away, Geraldine didn't want to interrupt.

' _I don't care what you say, I think the Labour party will definitely win the next one!'_ a man was saying to Franny.

Geraldine blinked but still hadn't spotted Dr Carson. It was then that she saw a blonde athletic-looking man with a tanned face in his early forties, coming in from the garden. He walked through the french doors with a sort of swagger, like a cowboy. He was wearing an open white shirt, a grey silvery jacket and a pair of pale blue Levis. If he wasn't an American, then he was doing a pretty good impression of one.

Despite the throng and the fact that his eyes could have gazed anywhere, they suddenly fixed on her. He looked as if he had been hypnotised. For a second Geraldine couldn't resist the magnetism of his stare and then she pulled her eyes away. But it was an effort. She chided herself for being so openly interested, or at least giving the impression she was. She looked down and concentrated on her drink. Already her glass was half empty. When she looked up again, he was gone.

She turned to say something to Franny who was laughing and patting her hair and was shocked to find the blonde man standing next to her. He had seemingly teleported himself across fifteen feet in the blinking of an eye. Or perhaps for Geraldine, time had played one of its tricks.

'May I introduce myself,' the blonde man said in a deep rich European accent which Geraldine couldn't place. 'I'm Stefan Lafonte.'

So he wasn't an American after all. Put on the spot Geraldine smiled, although she wasn't keen to continue with any conversation as such. 'I'm Geraldine,' she said briefly.

He nodded. 'Geraldine what?'

'Geraldine Ryans,' she replied.

'It's wonderful to meet you...' he began.

But she turned away and then quickly weaved herself towards the nearest drinks' station attended by a couple of elderly men. They topped up her champagne glass, and she looked back to see Stefan Lafonte stare after her with a quizzical look on his face. He must have thought she was an idiot, she mused. Now why did she do that? It was uncharacteristically rude of her. At that point, the band concluded the number they were playing and was quiet for the moment.

She checked her watch. She had been at the party exactly forty minutes and already she wanted to go home. But she decided to give it another hour to be fair to her friend, Franny. Also, she really needed to apologise to Mr Lafonte for her abrupt behaviour, as it was sure to be reported back to Franny. However, from what Geraldine could see, he didn't seem too devastated by her snub. A man like him would surely just move on to the next woman.

Franny suddenly grabbed her by the arm. _'Sorry about that_! When you're the host everyone wants to talk to you!'

'Miss popular you!' Geraldine said.

'Ah, I see you've got yourself another drink!' Franny replied observantly.

The band suddenly struck up again with a jazzy version of 'happy birthday'. Franny pulled a face. 'Well, it's not mine! Anyway, let me introduce you to a few people.'

Geraldine smiled more broadly as the alcohol was starting to have an effect. She glanced over to where Stefan Lafonte had been standing and saw a woman with long dark hair draped all over him. She recognised the woman as a lonely local.

'Ah, I see you've noticed Mr Stefan Lafonte,' Franny said with a smile.

'Who?' Geraldine asked knowing perfectly well who.

'Don't even think about it,' Franny said. 'He plays fast and loose and goes out with a girl practically every night!'

'Well, I'm not a girl, I'm a woman!' Geraldine said with a grin. 'And he's not my type anyway.'

Franny laughed. ' _Liar!_ He's everyone's type.'

Suddenly the handsome Mr Lafonte swivelled his head in their direction and raised his eyes heavenward as if to say, _'look what I've ended up with.'_

Franny chuckled. _'I think he likes you!'_

The woman he was with grabbed his cheek and turned his head back to her.

'Jealousy truly is a green-eyed monster,' Franny said as she sipped her own drink.

'Well, I've already met him,' Geraldine said. 'He just came up to me and told me his name.'

'And what a fascinating name it is,' Franny replied. 'But be glad he hasn't got you in his sights. He can be quite relentless.'

'And how would you know?' Geraldine asked as she found herself beginning to enjoy the conversation.

'I've got eyes and ears everywhere,' Franny replied. 'So what happened then? He spoke to you and what did you say?'

'I didn't,' Geraldine said. 'I mean, I didn't say much, I just walked off!'

Franny's jaw dropped. _'Oh, you've done it now_. You will have _piqued_ his interest big time!'

Geraldine shrugged. 'I don't care if I have. He looks a bit immature if you ask me. And arrogant!'

'Hmm,' Franny replied almost admiringly. 'Just as well you feel like that; he can be bad news, so I hear. A heartbreaker, a player.'

' _Oh, the type of man I absolutely loathe!'_ Geraldine said. 'Johnny Leonard, by comparison, had been a gentlemanly saint until he had found this other woman!'

'You can't loathe something you haven't tried, but in this case don't even bother,' Franny advised. _'Ooh, I think our drinkie poos need topping up!_ '

Geraldine followed her friend through the gaggle of guests back to the drinks' station by the door. 'So why the warnings, Franny? Mr Lafonte is not that remarkable. I mean handsome, but handsome is as handsome does.'

Franny suddenly turned to face her friend. 'Because you're vulnerable at the moment and he could make a play for you, and then drop you when you start getting serious about you!'

Geraldine almost gagged on the last sip of her drink. She could see Stefan Lafonte out of the corner of her eye going to sit down at a table by himself. His dark-haired companion had gone off somewhere.

'To put it simply, he's not the marriageable type!' Franny said as she handed their empty glasses to the grey-haired smiling moustached gentleman doing the drinks. 'However, I could make a few suggestions...'

Geraldine held up her free hand. 'Don't worry. I take it Mr Lafonte is not married then?'

Franny gave her an appraising look. 'I believe that he might have come close to it a few times. He is after all in his early forties. But if, say, someone like you happened to fall into his net and you did the whole nine yards, it wouldn't last. Either you or he would be begging for a divorce after eighteen months!'

Geraldine laughed. 'Your crystal ball is on form today! Or is it?'

Franny grabbed Geraldine's arm and quickly led her into an alcove as the old party bore approached. He apparently didn't see them, and he passed them by.

' _Phew, Near miss that!'_ Franny said.

Geraldine frowned. 'I'm curious. Why do you think Lafonte came up to me? Actually, he spotted me from across the room and came over. Does he know about me?'

'We might have mentioned you were coming,' Franny said.

Geraldine rubbed her chin. 'I see. _'_

Franny shot her a mock serious look. 'But don't worry, the last thing I would want to do, is p _alm you off with a wealthy property developer who doesn't want to get married! Whatever next!'_

Geraldine was silent for a moment as the band stopped for a break. Franny's husband went and put some records on their old record player from his own jazz collection. He was very retro.

'So, how did my name come up then?' Geraldine asked. 'You just happened to mention I was coming to the party?'

Franny paused before answering, 'Stefan Lafonte saw your house, Larkford, and was interested in buying it and wondered who the owner was. I think he'd like to renovate it and sell it.'

Geraldine nodded at this. Interesting. So here is a man who really doesn't want to be tied down by marriage, likes to play the field, and isn't bad looking. But more importantly, may offer a possible answer to her legal conundrums. Being a property developer, he was bound to be clued up about property legalities, deeds and titles and stuff like that. He may be able to suggest a way of staving off her solicitor's agenda. But at what price? Would she have to compromise herself? Could she stomach that?

Franny glanced at her. ' _Penny for them!_ Fancy a vol-au-vent?'

Geraldine smiled. 'Actually I am feeling a bit peckish.'

Franny patted her arm, 'I'll be right back!' and she strode off towards the buffet table.

Geraldine slyly glanced towards Stefan Lafonte. He had now been joined at his table by the middle-aged woman who had been speaking to Franny earlier. He appeared to be enjoying their conversation. Geraldine quickly turned her head back again as a thought arose in her mind. It was a desperate thought, but it was accompanied by a feeling of hope; hope that Lafonte might be a possible answer to her problems.

Suppose she engineered a marriage between them – she and Lafonte? And through the marriage, wrenched Larkford out of her solicitors' control and prevented it from being tied up in some Trust. And then, suppose they got divorced shortly afterwards, because Lafonte wasn't really the marrying kind. Not for long at any rate. Then, in the divorce settlement, she would get the house back, lock stock and barrel. Especially if Lafonte applied for the divorce first.

Divorced wives' often benefited handsomely from these settlements. Plus, she would probably get some alimony which would pay all the bills. It seemed like the perfect plan. Of course, the carrot for Lafonte would be Larkford. Using her wiles, she might persuade him that Larkford was available to him. She sighed to herself. She was becoming quite calculating in her old age. Johnny Leonard would be shocked.

Franny came back with two small plates of food, salad, some ham and vol-au-vents.

Geraldine smiled gratefully and shoved a vol-au-vent in her mouth. 'Thanks.'

'My pleasure, now where's that Dr Carson?' Franny said looking around as the band struck up again.

'Do you think Lafonte would be interested in me?' Geraldine asked.

Franny gave her a strange look. 'You're not still banging on about him, are you?'

'I'm just curious. You say he wanted to buy my house?'

'Yes, but as I say, he is not the marrying kind,' Franny said. 'But if you want to have a fling, that is up to you! I am sure he wouldn't refuse.'

At this point, Franny's husband William came over and kissed Geraldine on the cheek. He smelled of gin. 'Hello! Thanks for coming! Oh, some bad news. Dr Carson can't come!'

Franny frowned as if Dr Carson had been part of her plan. _'Oh really and why not?'_

'Had to attend a pregnant woman in Listercombe!' William said.

'Oh drat!' Franny replied.

'Shame,' Geraldine said without meaning it.

Franny shrugged. 'He might be able to make it later, eh? Well, I suppose I'd better circulate. You can't hog me all night, Geraldine!'

' _Go get 'em!_ ' Geraldine said with a broad smile.

'I suppose I'd better get back to that haggle over there,' William said. 'We'll have a chat later, Geraldine.'

'Definitely,' Geraldine replied with a smile. The alcohol was really starting to have an effect, and that was only after two glasses, but she wasn't quite drunk yet. There were a few people from the village she could have got into conversation with herself. But they were already paired up or standing in groups. She debated whether to stay and wait to see if Dr Carson would turn up. She suspected he probably would at some point as Listercombe wasn't far away.

She glanced about the packed room and noticed that Stefan Lafonte was no longer sitting at the table. He also obviously believed in keeping in circulation. Then she laughed out loud to herself. Marry Stefan Lafonte, what a ridiculous idea!

But underneath her jocularity was the unsettling feeling that perhaps, even if men were interested in her, she couldn't hold their attention for very long. Look at the way the love of her life Johnny Leonard, had behaved. He had fallen out of love with her without a moment's hesitation, or so it appeared. They had been engaged for five months, and it really did feel like a match made in heaven. And it wasn't thanks to any dating app either. They had collided in a supermarket, and then met again in the parking area. Then he came up to her when she was window shopping a week later and asked her to join him for lunch.

But the engagement wasn't the only thing that had been broken; all sense of self-respect and confidence went with it. Now, she felt like a piece of flotsam floating aimlessly on the local pond. Johnny Leonard clearly didn't realise the damage he had done. And any thoughts she entertained about the obviously vain Stefan Lafonte, who clearly made a career of getting to know women, were patently desperate. Why would he want to marry her? It was the drink doing the thinking for her.

Abandoned by Franny and William, who were now dutifully playing their host and hostess role, Geraldine decided to go home. She would explain later and say that the champagne hadn't agreed with her. They were forgiving people, they would understand.

Still holding her empty glass, she weaved her way towards the front door but a man in a silver jacket blocked her exit. She looked up and found herself literally inches from Stefan Lafonte's handsome face. He was even handsomer closer up. His blue eyes looked deep into her own. They seemed full of curiosity and compassion even, as if he had read every single thought in her mind.

The drink had made her brazen enough to return his earnest stare. 'Oh, you again!' she said.

'Please don't tell me that you're going, and we haven't even been properly introduced, not by Franny yet at any rate,' he said, his voice, smooth yet gravelly and very exotically European.

'You've already introduced yourself,' she replied as she was going to walk past him, but something kept her anchored to the spot. She stared at him silently, this man who sidestepped marriage but was obviously addicted to women. How, she wondered, had he survived for so long without the constancy of a loving wife?

'Then let me get you one more drink before you bow out,' Stefan Lafonte said. 'And I promise I will back up any excuse you want to give Franny for your unforgiveable behaviour.'

'What unforgiveable behaviour?'

'Leaving this lovely party before it's finished,' he said. 'You've only been here for an hour!'

'And how would you know?' she retorted. 'Been spying on me, have you?'

'Spying no, admiring yes,' he said silkily.

She could smell the subtle fragrance of his expensive aftershave. She could also see the hint of some golden curls on his chest just above the open part of his shirt. She looked down and caught sight of his thick brown leather belt and fancy gold buckle above his jeans. What was he? An urban cowboy? But his shoes were regular and tasteful. She tried to move away, but he came even closer. He was holding her captive with his mind.

'Just one drink,' he said again.

It was then that Geraldine realised that her daft idea to save Larkford had some substance to it. Perhaps, for him, the prospect of acquiring the house was at work here. Maybe she could build on that and weave the spell that she had woven over Johnny Leonard before he snapped out of it. It was possible that she was more powerful than she realised. But she wouldn't want any alliance with Mr Lafonte to be permanent. That would be the ruination of her strategy. 'Okay,' she replied in a softer tone _. 'Just one drink!'_
Chapter Two

Suddenly the band abruptly stopped playing and Franny stood on a chair. 'Competition time!' she announced waving her glass. There was general laughter at this. Franny looked directly at Geraldine. 'The band is now going to play a medley of dance tunes, and I want you all to grab a partner and show us what you can do! The winner gets a bottle of champers!'

There was more laughter and some amusing catcalls, and the band cacophonously cracked on with a version of Elvis Presley's 'Get off my blue suede shoes.'

Geraldine was astonished at how gamely everyone was; shaking their hips, throwing out their arms and proving how old they were. Very few guests appeared to be under the age of forty-five. Geraldine was one of the youngest. She frowned suspiciously at her friend Franny who was gingerly climbing off her chair. This surely was all part of her plan to get Geraldine hitched to someone. But surely it wouldn't be Stefan Lafonte whom she plainly disapproved of ? Or was Franny just using negative psychology. The band suddenly switched to a slow smoochy number.

Stefan shrugged. 'If we win you can keep the champagne,' he said. He held out his arm invitingly and with the greatest reluctance, so she told herself, Geraldine accepted his dance invitation. She placed her hands on his arm and shoulder and away they went.

She was determined to keep a respectful distance from him, although she needn't have worried. He was the perfect gentlemen. He didn't invade her space, or tread on her flat shoes, or grab her. He just glided gracefully on the postage stamp of floor they had to dance on, and she effortlessly fell in step with him. In fact, the last time she danced, was with Johnny Leonard and he wasn't a bad dancer, but Stefan Lafonte definitely had the edge over him.

Stefan's head was above hers and she had to look up. Smiling slightly, he seemed deeply in his own thoughts. He then grasped her arm as he led her into a turn, and she found she didn't mind that at all. It was also curious how safe she felt in his arms. But she chided herself for feeling too relaxed in his company, after all he was still a stranger.

'I hear you are a property developer,' she said.

His face remained passive for a long second and then he replied, 'I prefer to describe myself as a business developer.'

'Ah,' she said, none the wiser. She tried to gauge his reaction to her question. Had she offended him by asking so personal a thing?

'But I usually prefer not to talk about work,' he said.

'Sorry, I didn't mean to pry,' she replied.

'That's okay, you're not prying,' he stated with a smile.

They fell into rhythm with the next number. The band's tempo was still slow, but the tune sounded a bit more up to date than the previous one. Geraldine was expecting Stefan to be a bit more talkative, but he seemed content just to stare into her eyes, which were a similar blue to his. But she didn't mind his silence. It gave her time to take him in. To pick up those subtle signals which sometimes conversation can block.

Then it occurred to her that perhaps he was preoccupied with something. He wasn't like some men who would use a dance as an excuse to be fresh. He appeared quite distant. She began to wish he would say something, anything, just to give her a clue as to what he was thinking. It was possible that he didn't find her particularly attractive. Perhaps Franny had been playing matchmaker and had contrived for the two of them to meet and dance, and he had politely gone along with it.

Before she knew it, the band drew its medley to a close with a dazzling finale and everyone clapped. Franny climbed back onto her chair again. _'That was great! Now who gets the champagne, eh?'_ she said. 'Well, the winner is... _Mr Gordon and his daughter Tracy!'_

Everyone cheered and clapped again, and Geraldine saw that the winner was an elderly man in a wheelchair being pushed by a young woman. Somehow, they had managed to move to the rhythm.

'I enjoyed that,' Stefan said in his deep voice. He still had his hand on Geraldine's arm.

'Yes, it was nice,' she answered politely.

'Can I get you a drink?' he asked.

She was now used to looking into his face. 'I was actually going to make my way home,' she answered. But she realised that going home just might be a counterproductive thing to do at this moment.

He smiled. 'Did you come here by car?'

'Yes, as a matter of fact I did,' she answered.

'Pity,' he said. 'I was going to suggest walking you back home. Perhaps Franny told you, I've taken an interest in your rather fine house. It's practically a castle, isn't it?'

Geraldine couldn't help laughing at this. It was true, Larkford had been designed along the lines of medieval architecture but was actually less than a hundred years old. She stared at him. Perhaps he was more interested in the house than her? But she was sure there was an attraction there, and she knew she was pretty. Most men said so. The other thing was that she felt a slight obligation to wait around for Dr Carson. She knew for a fact that he liked her. In addition, she wouldn't want people at the party seeing her leave with a man she had only known for five minutes. In many people's minds, she was still linked with Johnny Leonard, who was known around the village; the local store, pub and fish and chip shop.

'Franny told me that you wanted to buy my house?'

Stefan's face suddenly became quite serious. 'Are we talking business now?'

'Business?' she said. 'I don't know. I'm not saying my house is for sale, but if you promise to behave, I'll let you look round.'

He laughed. 'My behaviour is always of the very best.'

Geraldine suddenly had reservations about inviting him, but she knew that she needed to steel herself. Larkford was sitting on a legal knife-edge and perhaps Lafonte was the only person in the world who could save it from the clutches of her solicitors.

'Listen,' he said. 'I'll leave my car here, and you can drive me to your place so that I can have a look around, and then I'll walk back and get my own car.'

'Or you can follow me in your car,' she suggested.

'I could,' he replied. 'But have you seen the parking outside? I'm parked behind a van and a Rolls Royce, I'm blocked in!'

'Alright,' she agreed. 'Let me just say bye to Franny and William.'

She found them knocking up some more punch in the kitchen. 'I'm just going to show Stefan around my house!' she told them.

Franny's smile was broad. 'And then you're coming back?'

'Maybe,' Geraldine said.

'You're not seriously thinking of selling your house to Stefan, are you?' William enquired.

'No, but he seemed keen to see it,' Geraldine said.

Franny gave her a wink. 'We'll wait an hour _and then come and rescue you!_ Just kidding!'

Geraldine left their house and found Stefan outside looking up at the velvety indigo evening sky. 'Which one is your car then?' he asked.

'That one,' she replied pointing to the Jaguar which she had sensibly parked out on the main road instead of in Franny's driveway.

'Oh, a classic!' Stefan enthused. _'Sell me the Jaguar as well and it's a done deal!'_

She smiled and they walked over to her car and climbed in. Suddenly she felt nervous. She started up the engine. They then slowly drove down the quite dangerous country lane to her house which only allowed one car to pass at certain points. She kept glancing at Stefan who seemed absorbed in the car's interior design. He patted the dashboard. She was almost waiting for him to make a pass at her or kiss her passionately, but clearly there was no danger of that. However, she was on her guard, ready to pull over and jump out if she needed to.

'Got a lovely sound, the motor,' he observed.

'Inherited from my mother, as was the house,' she said.

'Been here long?' he asked.

'Donkey's years,' she replied.

'I've been aware of your house for some time,' he said. 'Franny had mentioned you to me before. But I gather you are not a party person, otherwise we would have bumped into each other before now.'

She sighed. 'I don't know whether Franny told you, but I am recently bereaved.'

He looked at her with concern. 'I know, and may I extend my deepest sympathies and condolences.' He gently patted her arm.

Geraldine put on a brave smile. 'Thank you.'

'I gather your mother was a wonderful lady,' he said.

At these words Geraldine suddenly brought the car to a sudden halt in the middle of the dark lane.

Stefan's head swung around. 'Oh, I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to upset you! Would you like me to drive?'

Geraldine took a deep breath. 'I'm fine, I'm fine. It's still raw, she only died a few months ago.'

He nodded. 'I'm sorry.'

She started up the car again and drove the half mile to Larkford in silence. She glanced at him out of the corner of her eye and he did appear to be remorseful. But she had changed her mind about inviting him in. He might mistake that for the wrong kind of invitation. He might think that she needed some special Stefan Lafonte TLC.

Instead he said, 'I see that I've put my foot in it.'

'No,' she said weakly. 'It's just me at the moment.'

When they arrived, he nodded and got out of the car and looked up at Geraldine's impressive house. The front was covered in ivy which gave it a sort of collegiate appearance. 'Well, forget the tour tonight,' he said. 'Perhaps I could give you a ring?'

Remaining in the driver's seat, she made a pensive face. Interesting choice of words, she thought. 'Are you alright walking back to the party then?'

He shrugged. 'It's a nice evening and I don't want to intrude on your mourning.'

Geraldine almost gasped. Another interesting choice of words with a double meaning. 'You wouldn't be intruding,' she said. 'But...'

He held up his hand. 'I understand'. He then came around to her side of the Jaguar and bent his head down. She almost flinched wondering what he was going to do. Surely not a peck on the cheek? For a man of his reputation, it was a strong possibility.

Instead, he extended his hand through her open window and she found herself shaking his dry manly palm. 'To be honest I'd love to have a look around your house, out of pure nosiness!' he said.

'I don't mind,' she replied. 'Let's make a date.'

He gave her an odd look. 'A date, as in, a date to view your house?'

'Exactly, but just because you're interested in looking, not because it is for sale,' she said to clarify the situation.

Stefan smiled and turned his collar up. It was starting to get a bit chilly. He then gave her a friendly wave and headed off back down the lane. 'See you later!' he called.

Geraldine activated the automatic gate and drove up her drive to her house and quickly went inside. Her mind was all over the place. She found Stefan's behaviour slightly perplexing because it had been too gentlemanly. He hadn't attempted to take any liberties. When she first went out with Johnny Leonard, even he had grabbed her and kissed her, but then he had been drunk.

She checked the kitchen clock and saw that it had only just turned ten. She decided to have a bit of toast and cocoa, as she mulled over the evening. What she couldn't decide was how interested Stefan was in her. Did he even fancy her? Or was it the pull of Larkford, a property that he could renovate and sell for a fortune, or even split up into plots.

Suddenly her phone rang on the table and she saw that it was Franny calling. Geraldine took a deep breath and answered it. 'Hello,' she said sheepishly.

' _I thought you said you were coming back?_ ' Franny enquired. 'What happened? Did he like the house?'

'Who, Stefan?'

'Well who else?'

'I didn't get 'round to showing him, but he obviously likes the look of it,' Geraldine replied.

'I wondered why he came back pretty smartish,' Franny said. 'Did you have an argument or something?'

'No not at all, and no he didn't live up to his reputation!' Geraldine couldn't help saying.

Franny was silent for a moment. 'So the earth didn't move for you then? His charm left you completely cold?'

Geraldine laughed. 'I think it was _my_ lack of charm which didn't _warm him up, I think!_ '

'So is he going to ring you, or what?' Franny asked.

'I don't know! He said he would, but he didn't ask for my number.'

'Hmm,' Franny said. 'Well, then let's hope he doesn't. He _has_ been known to break quite a few hearts.'

'Franny, I don't get you,' Geraldine said. 'You say you don't approve of him, yet you set the whole thing up, didn't you?'

' _Of course not, don't be silly!'_ Franny replied. 'Stefan would be a disaster for you. _I'm trying to pair you off with Dr Carson if the truth be known!_ '

Geraldine laughed. _'Dr Carson, God forbid!_ But Stefan behaved like the perfect gentlemen or should I say, like the perfect prospective buyer for my house. But I don't want to sell it!'

'I know you don't,' Franny said. 'Well, I have to go now, and we'll speak later about you babysitting our house while we're gone. You did say you would.'

' _Did I?'_

'Speak to you soon!' Franny said and clicked off.

Geraldine put the phone down and took a slug of her cooled-off cocoa. She smiled to herself - Dr Carson, whatever next.

The cocoa always made her sleepy which was why she drank it. She gathered herself up and retired to her cosy bedroom, with its pastel yellow floral wallpaper and Laura Ashley furniture and bits and bobs. The curtain drapes were a heavy lilac velvet which made the room even cosier, especially on winter nights. She also had a handy ensuite. She undressed, washed, and gave her hair a quick brush at her vanity table and then climbed into bed. She was supposed to be taking the tablets that Dr Carson had prescribed, but she didn't need help falling asleep. The cocoa usually did the trick.

She picked up the book from the bedside table that she had been reading. But she put it back down as her mind struggled with the problem of keeping Larkford safe from the legal beagles. The idea of somehow manipulating Stefan Lafonte into helping her save her home was fast running out of steam. It was at that moment that her phone rang again, but when she checked it was an unknown number. She was half expecting Franny to phone her back. It concerned her that some unknown person was ringing her at this late hour.

She answered it and a powerful but seductive voice purred down the receiver. It was Stefan Lafonte, only over the phone his voice sounded more masculine and metallic. 'I hope I didn't wake you, but I forgot to thank you for consenting to show me your house, if that's still on?'

Geraldine was momentarily lost for words. 'Er...yes, it is, did you get my number from Franny?'

'Who else,' Stefan said. 'It's funny though, I had the feeling she didn't want to give it to me.'

Geraldine found herself smiling. 'That's Franny for you. She likes to look out for me.'

'That's just called being a good friend,' he said.

Geraldine licked her lips. It seemed that there was still a chance that her scheme was still on. 'She is a good friend, but I'm sure I have nothing to fear from you, Mr Lafonte.'

'Call me Stefan,' he said. 'No you don't...have anything to fear.'

'Good.'

'What are you doing tomorrow afternoon,' he asked.

'Well,' she began.

'I expect you still have a lot to do,' he said.

'I do actually,' she replied. She didn't want to seem too eager. Men of Stefan's ilk liked a bit of a challenge; for them it was part of the game. 'I'm extremely busy to be honest,' she said.

'Ah,' he mused. There was disappointment in his voice.

She tried to gauge what he might be thinking. Not for one moment did she want him to think she was trying to 'reel him in,' like a fish. For effect, she had to be hesitant, as if having Stefan Lafonte in her life was the last thing she wanted. 'Are you saying you might be free tomorrow to drop by then, Stefan?'

His voice brightened. 'Actually, I was thinking that you and I could have a meal tomorrow? Do you like Malaysian food?'

'Malaysian?' she queried.

'Yes, it's just that this swish new restaurant has opened in town and the seating looks really comfortable,' he replied. 'But don't worry if this sounds too exotic.'

'I've never had Malaysian food,' she said.

'Never mind then,' he replied. 'Perhaps I'll give you a ring next week.'

'Or,' she said quickly, not wanting him to lose interest. 'Or I could make you a fish gratin. That's sort of Malaysian, isn't it? And then I can give you a tour of the property.'

Stefan laughed. 'If fish gratin is Malaysian then I don't know what fish and chips is anymore!'

'What I mean, is that the Malaysians eat a lot of fish, don't they?' she said.

'I see the connection,' he replied. 'To be honest I have the strongest impression that you're a pretty good cook. I would like that.'

'Phone me again tomorrow and I'll tell you a time,' she said. They then said goodnight and hung up.

Geraldine sat in bed looking at her phone. He seemed keen alright, but was it because he was now infatuated with her, of was it just pure business? How would she be able to turn the situation into something she could use for her own purposes. She would have to go carefully, softly, softly. Tired of thinking about it, she switched off the light and went to sleep. Tomorrow was another day.

But a dreamless night flew by and it was seven am before she knew it. She groggily climbed out of bed, got washed and dressed and had a light breakfast. She was suddenly aware that her big house hadn't been properly vacuumed for at least a week and there were piles of washing everywhere. Not in the ideal condition to show Stefan. She didn't want him to think that she wasn't a very good housekeeper.

Deciding to have a tidy up, she meditated on how she was going to utilise Stefan. He had come into her life for a reason, she decided, and it was to help her. Why else? Also, from what Franny suggested, he was quite cold blooded. He could take his pleasure and then walk away. So if she got to know him, and marriage was ever in the offing and they did marry, divorce would be par for the course. And it would be massively advantageous for her.

Who knows, she thought, he might have been married before. So, she needed to keep her own feelings in check and just see him as a sort of predator that she was going to use for her own ends. And a quickie marriage followed by a quick divorce would spare her beloved Larkford from violation by the-powers-that-be. It would all suit her nicely.

But, she wondered, how do you get a man like that to the altar? She would need to get him to fall in love with her. However, her success with men was generally poor. Johnny Leonard proved that she was deficient when it came to affairs of the heart. There had been a glitch in the relationship, or perhaps the woman Johnny had fallen for was prettier. Geraldine couldn't fathom it.

The alternative was to make Stefan marry her because he had to out of a sense of duty. And there was only one tried and tested way of doing that. She shivered at the thought. Having an unwanted child would not be ideal. She loved children and was sure that she would be a good mother, but it would help if the marriage partnership was genuine to begin with. And then there was the physicality of the process, and she didn't know if she could bear that. The thought of Stefan even kissing her was off-putting enough, as handsome as he was.

She turned her mind to the proposed meal. It didn't occur to her for one moment that Stefan wouldn't turn up for dinner, even though she hadn't given him a precise time yet. She could have knocked something up from the groceries in her fridge and pantry but decided to go down to the village to get some fish as promised. The fishmongers did some delectable sea-fresh salmon among other things. But she did say fish gratin and that would mean white fish.

So the next day, after a rough night of tossing and turning in bed, she went out shopping. She brought a nice piece of Halibut, and picked up some button mushrooms, Bouquet Garni and crème fraiche. She had all the other ingredients. As she was driving back home Stefan phoned her on her mobile and so she pulled over to the side of the narrow lane in her Jaguar.

'Hi! Still on, is it?' he asked in his now familiar gravelly voice.

'Yes and make it for seven thirty, oh and I forgot to get some white wine,' she said in a relaxed voice.

'No worries,' he said cheerfully. 'I'll grab some from the off-license on the way down. See you!' And he clicked off. She thought it was quite abrupt of him.

When she got home again, she had another quick tidy up and then had a lie down, and around five began work on the meal. By the time the doorbell rang, everything was ready. She didn't want to overdress and so had put on a pair of tight jeans, pink crisp shirt and some minimalist jewellery. At the door she was surprised to see him dressed quite formally, in a light blue suit and tie with a bottle of wine under his arm wrapped in paper.

She forced a smile. She had a feeling it was going to be a painful evening. 'You're punctual!'

Stefan stepped over the threshold without waiting to be asked. 'I hate tardiness!'

'Come and sit in the parlour,' she said as she conducted him through the house. 'Oh, let me put that in the fridge,' she said taking the wine. She went through to the kitchen and put the wine in the door of the fridge and noted that her pulse had risen slightly. She was now going to have to be cheerful and conversational and logistical. Exactly what was it that he was after?

'Hmm, that smells delish!' he said from the sofa in the parlour.

'It's actually ready to go!' she said with an insincere smile. 'I hope you're hungry?'

'I've deliberately starved myself all day,' he replied, standing up and followed her into the dining room.

She pulled out a chair for him at the head of her longish dining table and he smiled. 'I should be doing this for you.'

She grinned. 'Be back in a moment.' She rushed off to the kitchen and took a breather. Frankly, she didn't feel prepared and had no idea how she was going to reply if he said anything unexpected. In her own mind she had worked out a sort of script which would lead to her showing him around the house. But he was a red-blooded man; a hungry-looking man in more senses than one. He might let the wolfish side of his nature get the better of him. He might make a pass at her and then she needed to be skilful in the way she handled it. She didn't want him to spend any interest he might have in her too early.

She wheeled in the meals and wine on a trolley and began to serve. She put two warmed plates on their respective table mats and placed the white wine artfully on the table with two immaculate glasses. She then positioned the salad bowl and two wooden spoons in the middle of the table on a doily. Stefan's eyes were agog with interest. 'Salad as well!' he observed.

'Man cannot live on fish alone,' she replied.

'Or pie and chips,' he said with a smile.

After everything had been served, she sat at the other end of the table, her back aching slightly. 'Alright?'

He gave her a scorching look. 'Don't you say grace?'

She froze as she was undoing her freshly laundered napkin. 'What?'

He burst into laughter. 'Just kidding,' he said as he arranged his own napkin on his lap. 'My this is civilised. You should see the tv dinners I knock up.'

'You should see the instant marmite savouries on toast that I do,' she said.

'Oh, let me pour the wine,' he offered and promptly stood up and opened the bottle. 'Nice and cool! Perfect.'

Geraldine gave him a casual look. 'Help yourself to the salad while you're at it.'

He expertly poured out their drinks and then took a clump of the delicious-looking salad using the wooden spoons. She could tell that he was genuinely hungry.

As the meal progressed, she was grateful that he kept the subject matter of their conversation on safe ground. He was also fond of cracking a pun or two which she found amusing. As the wine kicked in, she began to feel that she could definitely persuade him to marry her, given time. There was a sort of vulnerability about him which made her feel it might be relatively easy. He seemed open to suggestion. At the same time, she was aware that she was being more predatory in her thinking than perhaps was decent. She wasn't really like that normally.

There was no doubt that he was a good conversationalist and didn't venture into lurid territory but kept it light and interesting. She noted that he had quite a charming smile and overall, his looks were quite classical, Grecian even. He had almost white blonde hair, a perfectly straight nose, bright blue but kind eyes and cupid-like lips. And despite his good looks, he didn't appear to be vain, which often came with the territory. Considering that she was also a blonde too, what was there not to like?

He also seemed to appreciate her attempts at joke-making. He found her imitation of her friends Franny and William quite hilarious. 'You should go on the stage,' he said.

'So they tell me,' she replied. 'I've got some sorbets in the fridge if you've still got some room left.'

'Perhaps later,' he suggested. 'Perhaps we can have a late dessert!'

'No problem,' she said as she observed him gazing up at the ceiling of the dining room, which had an interesting Acanthus patterned moulding around the edges. She wondered if he was now in property appraising mode.

'It must be a bit spooky to stay here at night on your own,' he said with a smile.

This made her pause. What was he suggesting? Was he expecting her to say, that he could stay over if he liked? She grinned again. 'I'm just going to load up this trolley and take the plates back to the kitchen and then we can relax and open another bottle.'

'Let me do that,' he said jumping up.

'No, no,' she replied.

But he was already loading the trolley with their finished dishes and pushing it into the kitchen. 'See, no problem!'

'Don't you dare load the dishwasher!' she cautioned, following him.

' _I wouldn't know how to!'_

'If you want to make yourself useful take the wine and glasses through that door there and sit down,' she instructed.

Stefan did a mock salute and took the wine and glasses into the comfortable lounge and sat down on a sofa near the hearth. Geraldine in turn quickly opened the dishwasher in the kitchen and stacked the dirty cutlery. She was feeling a bit rushed. The meal had gone too quickly. She tried to think what they could talk about and felt that it was useful that he was a property developer. Lots of topics to mull over there and relevant to her situation.

Geraldine came through to the lounge and found that he had already poured out two more glasses of wine. She sat down next to him, although not too close, but he leaned towards her and put his arm around her back. It was only for a second. 'You are one hell of a cook, worthy of five Michelin Stars,' he said.

'Thanks,' she replied a tad cautiously. She didn't want to lead him on.

Again, his arm went around her as he pulled her to him. She could smell the wine on his breath, and she pulled back in response.

'What's the matter?' he asked.

'Nothing,' she answered as his hand went down to her waist. He clearly wanted to kiss her. Their heads were now close, but she put her hands on his chest and tried to gently push him away. He responded by holding her more firmly, as he moved his head closer to hers. But this was all too soon for Geraldine who expected a bit more conversation. She suddenly felt smothered and yanked herself out of his embrace and stood up.

He looked up at her helplessly. 'Was it something I said?'

She moved away and then went over to the old-fashioned radiogram by the wall. 'You like jazz, don't you?' She just wasn't quite in the mood for his kisses. In fact, she was now thinking that the whole enterprise was fraught with drawbacks. Even it if was to save her dear Larkford from the chop.

'Do I like Jazz?' he said. 'Yes, it's okay.' He appeared dismayed.

She put a record on the turntable, but her hand was slightly unsteady. She was beginning to lose her composure. The last man who attempted to kiss her was Johnny Leonard.

The sounds of a smooth saxophone floated from the speakers of the radiogram and Stefan went over to her and gently touched her arm. 'Are you alright?'

She turned to look at him. 'I'm sorry, I'm just not used to drinking so much.'

He nodded. 'Also, some women say I'm a bit of a fast mover. But I don't mean to offend.'

'I thought it would be nice to have a bit of a chat,' she said. She knew she was sounding like a wet blanket, and suddenly she wanted the evening to be over. She liked him, but she wanted him to go.

'We can have a chat if you like,' he said.

Her eyes looked down at the floor. 'I bet you think I'm being silly. I'm not like some of these other girls.'

'That's why I like you,' he said. He then put his hand under her chin and lifted her head. 'Come back to the sofa and have your wine.'

He was being too touchy feely for her liking. She gently pulled her head away. 'Maybe just one glass.'

Stefan turned and went back to the sofa and she almost reluctantly followed him. She sat a foot away from him. 'Do you think we should start over?' she said.

He picked up her glass of wine which was sitting in the hearth and passed it to her. 'I have a feeling that you don't do much in the way of dating.'

She took the glass and shrugged. 'It's lack of opportunity,' she replied.

He took her free hand. 'Well then, let's rectify that here and now.' He moved his head towards her again and this time, she steeled herself for his kiss. But she was doing it for Larkford, she told herself. She closed her eyes feeling foolish, almost like a child about to receive a peck from a grandparent.

He placed his hand on her arm and then gently brushed her lips with his own. It was a dry kiss, but there was a warmth as well. She opened her eyes and found herself looking deeply into his. His concentration on her was absolute.

Stefan pulled his head away.

She sat up. 'Happy now?' she asked inappropriately.

He frowned and then laughed. 'It's not a solo sport, both people are supposed to enjoy it.'

She nodded. 'I know.'

He picked up his own glass of wine and took a sip. 'Can I ask you a question? How many dates have you been on this year?'

She felt peeved at this prying query. 'I think that's a matter for me.'

'It may well be, but Franny is quite concerned,' he said.

'About what?' Geraldine asked knowing the answer. 'About my personal life?'

'Yes, and the fact that you've been continually heartbroken since you broke up with Johnny Leonard!'

She frowned. 'You've been doing your homework. Thanks Franny! But I don't think that is any of your business.' She was beginning to feel violated by his probing. He was behaving as if he already owned her. If he continued in this vein, she might well end the evening.

'I don't mean to pry or offend,' he said. 'But you're an attractive woman who shouldn't be on her own. Not for the length of time you have been. Why did it end? I mean your engagement?'

She shook her head. 'Don't you realise how personal that question is? Besides, I haven't been on my own. I've been living here with my mother until she passed away.'

'I understand that,' he replied. 'But I'm really curious. Was it a mutual thing, the engagement ending? I mean, did you sort of push this Johnny away, like you're doing to me?'

' _Am I pushing you away then?_ ' she said sharply. 'I haven't asked you to leave yet, have I?'

He shook his head. 'No true, but I sense a lot of resistance.'

'Look, Stefan, I just don't want to talk about Johnny Leonard; is that a crime?' she asked rhetorically.

He pulled a pensive expression. 'No, it's not a crime. But it's a crime to take it out on me, your hurt, I mean.'

' _I'm not taking it out on you,'_ she said defensively. _'That's ridiculous._ Look, what happened, was that Johnny is in the RAF and he travels a lot in his job and he simply met someone else. I think it was a female officer. That's it, end of!' She looked at Stefan who acknowledged what she was saying with a nod. But she realised that at this rate, any chance of getting him to the altar was quickly diminishing. This was only probably because he had moved too fast to begin with. He had taken her almost unawares and had put her out of kilter. Also, talking about Johnny was always painful for her. She especially hated it when Franny brought him up in conversation.

'I'm sorry,' he said. 'I can see I have upset you.'

She made a helpless face. 'I'm just not used to male company.'

Suddenly, he moved closer to her and took her in his arms again. 'But I am not just any man,' he said.

'I can see that,' she said not resisting him. But he made no attempt to kiss her again.

'It was obvious to me the moment I walked through your door that you are not settled,' he said. 'That there are still things hanging fire. I mean, I realise how painful it is to lose a parent. I lost my father when I was very young. It's a struggle, but I can see that you're coping marvellously.'

Geraldine was getting used to his physical closeness. 'Thank you.'

His face took on the look of a man who had just assumed someone else's burdens. He glanced at the antique clock on the mantlepiece. 'Is that the time already?' he exclaimed.

She nodded. 'What time did you think it was?'

'Earlier than that,' he said.

'Time flies when you're having fun,' she couldn't resist saying.

He looked up at her. 'Mock me if you want, it's just water off a duck's back.'

'I wasn't mocking you,' she replied. 'It's been interesting. But it's a bit late to show you around the house now.'

'I agree, perhaps we can meet again?' he said clearly unsure of himself.

'Perhaps,' she replied. She could feel that he was about to make his departure. But she wasn't unduly upset about that. The evening had been a strain.

'I've got an appointment bright and early tomorrow,' he informed her as he slowly and reluctantly got to his feet and went to the front door.

'Business?' she enquired.

'Always.'

'Where are you based?' she asked with genuine interest.

'Paris normally,' he answered. 'But I'm rooming at the Ugly Duckling at the moment.' He was referring to the village hotel where the locals could also have a drink. He opened the front door himself and hovered on the threshold.

She smiled up at him. 'Well, thank you for coming.'

He took her hand and shook it. 'Thank you for having me. Great meal.'

She watched him walk down the drive and hop into his own car which was a sporty little two door number. He drove off with a wave.

She stood watching him disappear around a bend and wondered what the point of the evening had been. All they did was cross swords and she hadn't managed to steer the conversation anywhere near her objective. She concluded that he was unlikely to rush back to see her. After all, he didn't get what he apparently wanted.

She went into the kitchen, put a tablet in the dishwasher and turned it on. It rarely got used. As the motor whirled away, she sat down at the kitchen table and finished off the wine directly from the bottle. It was wine that Stefan had bought, and it was pretty good. At least he had good taste. Perhaps that also applied to the women he showed interest in.

But would he, in the final analysis want to marry her? And if she saw him again, should she dare even suggest it, even as a joke so as to plant the suggestion? She stood up amused by her own thoughts. She was turning into a fantasist, wasn't she? Without further ado she switched off all the lights and went to bed. The dishwasher would look after itself.

****

Another dreamless night sped by and she arose with more energy than usual. She had a nice piping hot shower and got dressed and then went and made a bacon sandwich. Her resolve not to eat too much red meat had again failed. She just fancied the crispy salty taste of bacon in a brown bread and brown sauce sandwich. As she sat eating, her thoughts immediately went to Stefan and she wondered where he was and what he was doing. But the main question in her mind was, would she ever see him again?

She finished her breakfast and had put her small plate and knife in the sink when the front door knocked. Because it was early, she just assumed it was the postman, perhaps with that book on Oriental rugs that she had ordered from Amazon. To her amazement it was Stefan. She gaped at him, completely unprepared to see him.

' _Can I interest you in buying a brush?'_ he said with a sparkling smile. 'Just kidding. My workday is over and so I thought we might go out somewhere!'

Geraldine blinked. The sun was up and with an offer like that it was hard to resist, and this turned into a habit. He would suddenly pop up every other day, almost with precision, as if carefully planned, and whisk her off somewhere. His workdays were very flexible, and he had a lot of free time. He was also always full of ideas as to where they could go, and the days would always conclude with a scrumptious meal somewhere. If they didn't do so much walking, she was sure that she would start piling on the pounds. He was particularly interested in churches and talked a lot about ley lines. She found herself just nodding in agreement.

He also got into the habit of delicately giving her a kiss at the end of the day, mostly on the cheek but lately on the mouth. But he was sensitive to her particularities and didn't press it. She was beginning to get used to him and felt that her Larkford plan was back on track again, and he was doing all the chasing.

Then one evening on the doorstep, he didn't kiss her. She had turned her face to receive it, but he had held back with a smile. He was looking at her in an odd way, as if he had realised something. Then he shook her hand, which was distinctly odd.

'What's the matter?' she asked.

'Nothing, it has been another great day, Geri,' he said. 'And I still haven't seen round your house yet.'

She shrugged. 'You can have a look around now if you want,' she replied.

'Perhaps tomorrow,' he said, and he was gone.

Puzzled, she went in and did some thoughtful tidying up. It was amazing how much mess two people could make. Imagine if the house was full of kids, she thought. She spent the rest of the day watching tv and pondering how to get their relationship to the next stage without too many personal compromises. But it all seemed to be happening naturally.

Then something really odd happened. She didn't see him for a week. He had got into the habit of tapping on the kitchen window when he arrived, but for several days there was no sign. Not even a phone call. When she tried ringing him there was no answer. After the third day, Geraldine sat in the kitchen with an extra strong coffee wondering whether she should phone Franny to ask if Stefan was alright. Franny was meant to call anyway, regarding looking after her home whilst she was abroad. To top it all, her solicitor Charles Malverne had written her a stiff letter. It requested her attendance at his office, to sign Larkford into the Trust which they had set up. She shook her head as she read the letter. No way, she thought. I'm never going to that office again.

As she juggled these various thoughts, it became plain to her that she was beginning to count on Stefan being there for her. However, she hadn't yet discussed the situation regarding her solicitor. But now that she hadn't seen Stefan for a couple of days, she was beginning to miss him. Perhaps he had read between the lines and sensed that she wanted him to marry her and had developed cold feet.

Just for the sake of keeping to a routine, Geraldine did some cleaning, her eyes continually going to the windows to see whether Stefan had driven up. The temptation to ring Franny was strong but then she would have to do a lot of explaining. Franny was bound to ask the most excruciating questions.

Geraldine stopped for a spot of lunch and had a bowl of cereal. She made herself a coffee and then had another one, when to her surprise Stefan's head suddenly appeared at the kitchen door. He had come around the back and through the garden. _'Well, hello there!'_ he said in a comical voice.

'Stefan!' she exclaimed.

'Yes, it's me again,' he said. 'Sorry I didn't phone. Had to go to Bristol and I left my phone charger behind.'

She gaped at him. 'I was getting quite worried. I thought something had happened to you.'

'Only work,' he said. 'But I have to go away again, back to Paris as a matter of fact, so I thought we could have lunch before I go.'

'Paris?' she said, her disappointment apparent. That really would put a block on her plans. Maybe he would never return.

Chapter Three

Stefan drove them to Earling Hall, a local stately home which had recently been renovated and was now open for business. It had a pub and cafeteria which already had quite a few visitors. Geraldine had heard about it down the village grapevine and was impressed. It seemed like a good venue to bring up the pressing problem of her solicitor's threats. She was also expecting Stefan to explain why he was going back to Paris. That was where he lived, wasn't it?

She even toyed with the thought of discussing the possibility of him moving in with her, on the pretext of saving them both living expenses. It would be like a business proposition. This might even prompt him to make the suggestion of marriage. But their relationship could hardly yet be called intimate. It had progressed at a snail's pace.

The venue was very pleasant, and they went for a walk around the gorgeous gardens which were a riot of colour. She had been here before with Johnny Leonard, prior to the renovation but she tried to block that memory from her mind.

'Penny for your thoughts,' Stefan said looking at her intently.

'It's nice here,' she said.

'Clouds approaching!' he commented, shielding his eyes as he looked up at the sky.

She nodded and tried to think of a way of introducing what she really wanted to talk about. However, she had the uneasy feeling that he, in turn, wanted to tell her something; that perhaps, he might be going away and never coming back again. But his face was placid, although his gaze was steady. In the absence of any real conversation, she decided to take the plunge. 'Stefan?'

He looked at her and raised an eyebrow. 'Shall we go in?' He had broken her flow.

The approaching clouds brought with them a cold wind which suddenly whipped up from nowhere. The pair quickly went into the cafeteria, which offered waitress service, and they stood at the counter. The menu was chalked up on a blackboard which they studied carefully. Geraldine quickly made her selection of croissants and tea, and Stefan ordered a ham sandwich and a beer.

They found a table, and still he hadn't really said anything meaningful to her. She really wanted to know what he was thinking. He simply wasn't being his usual talkative self. She had spent practically three weeks in his company, albeit in a very casual way, but it appeared to have been time wasted. Stefan needed to know what was going on in her life and in her mind. The solicitor's new letter had spooked her.

But she didn't want to beg or corner Stefan. The problem was finding the right form of words and then presenting her predicament as an advantageous business proposition for him. If she didn't make her move soon, she could risk losing Larkford forever.

Within five minutes, the waitress brought over their light lunches and they got stuck in. Geraldine gazed out of the window of the cafeteria. 'It looks like rain.'

'That's the British weather for you,' he replied. 'It's nice to be here though. I shall be back in Paris tomorrow in the thick of things again. But being here revives the spirit.'

She nodded and poured herself some tea from the pot which the waitress had brought over. Geraldine agreed it was nice here surrounded by the carefully manicured gardens, but her spirit was far from feeling refreshed. 'Hmm,' she murmured.

'The sun brings out your colour,' he said.

She blinked. 'My colour?'

'Your hair, the same colour as mine and it really shines in the sun, like a crown,' he said.

She nodded, glad that he approved. She noticed that he was staring at her quite intently. Despite the fact that they were in public, he suddenly moved his head closer to hers at the table. He obviously wanted to kiss her again. Self-consciously she moved away.

'You're not in a bad mood again, are you?' he asked.

'I don't like being kissed in public,' she replied.

'No one is looking,' he said.

Geraldine glanced around at the other customers who were widely spaced apart in the large conservatory-style cafeteria. A couple could certainly kiss and not be observed at that moment. But she was feeling uncomfortable.

Suddenly, he began kissing her neck.

' _Stefan, not here!'_ she said trying to push him away.

'Why not?' He then moved his head up and covered her mouth with his, and she felt trapped. Her heart began to hammer in her chest as his kiss became more and more passionate. She kept one eye on the other customers, but so far no one had noticed. In an attempt to control his actions, she pushed at his waist, but this seemed to spur him on. She then managed to yank her mouth away from his and said _, 'Stefan, please!'_

But he just smiled to himself and brought his hand up to her breast which he began to caress.

' _What are you doing!_ ' she said as she tried again to extricate himself from his hold.

'Geraldine,' he replied. 'Don't be such a fidget!'

'It's that beer isn't it!' she said accusingly.

'It's you, the effect you have on me,' he said. Then, under the table, he brought his free hand slowly up her leg and began to caress her thigh. His actions shocked her; to be so intimate in such a public place. Even Johnny Leonard would never attempt to do such a thing. Her emotions suddenly surged up and she wanted to slap Stefan's face for being so fresh. It was quite clear that he wanted her, but the time and place was all wrong. She strongly pulled away and got to her feet.

He grinned up at her sheepishly and yet triumphantly. _'Come on, don't be like that!'_

' _Stefan, I can't believe you did that!_ ' she said looking over at the cafeteria's counter and seeing that two of the staff were staring across at them. Her breathing was heavier now, as if she had just run a marathon.

He quickly finished his beer and also stood up. He watched her uncertainly as she hovered self-consciously by the table. He grasped her arm. 'I think I'm beginning to get the picture,' he said. _'You're playing hard to get!_ ' He was holding her arm.

She would have pulled away and gone into the gardens, but it was now raining quite hard. Her body was now quite tense. She didn't know how to respond to his accusation. Suddenly there was a flash of lightening across the sky.

Stefan frowned. 'The forecast did predict thunder and rain,' he said. 'But I thought it would be in the south.'

'Let's go before it really pelts down,' she replied.

The car park was several hundred metres away and so it would be hard to avoid getting wet. They ran to his car, Geraldine relieved that their tension had been momentarily broken. But she was still none the wiser. She still didn't know why he was going back to Paris. They drove to Larkford in silence, although he did fiddle with the car radio. When they arrived, Geraldine checked her crestfallen hair in the hallway mirror.

'I'm soaked, I'll have to dry my hair,' she told him.

He appeared to be moody. 'I'll make us a coffee.'

She glanced at him and wished that he would simply make tracks for home. The atmosphere between them had deteriorated. 'When are you going back to Paris?' she asked.

'I'll leave now if you want,' he said sharply, a hard look in his eyes.

Without answering she flew up the stairs to the bathroom and grabbed a towel. She patted her hair and then changed into a blouse and fifteen minutes later came back down. He was sitting in the kitchen with his feet up on the table, his shirt undone to the waist.

'Why are you sitting like that?' she asked nervously.

'I made you coffee,' he replied without answering her question.

Even though Stefan had a vest under his shirt, his magnificently toned body was apparent. This was obviously a man who worked out. She looked over at her mug of coffee next to the electric kettle and walked over to it.

Stefan suddenly righted himself at the table and buttoned his shirt up. 'What's the matter, Geraldine?' His eyes were looking at her speculatively.

She shrugged. 'Nothing.' She sipped her hot drink.

Still sitting, Stefan made a motion with his hands. 'I want to ask you something.'

'Ask away,' she said. She stayed where she was by the kitchen worktop. Now they were alone, he could do anything he wanted. Was he waiting to pounce, she wondered?

'You're acting like you've seen a ghost, come closer!' he demanded.

She reluctantly put her coffee down and took a step towards him. 'Well?'

'You are a tease; do you know that?' he said as his eyes dropped to her body. 'What do you really want from me?'

'Want?' she repeated. 'You're the one pursuing me.'

He laughed. 'Don't give me that. My instincts are usually good and they're telling me this is a plan that you and Franny have cooked up – to ensnare me.'

She shrugged. 'Not true.'

'Look, I'm a man who usually gets what he wants,' he stated.

Her heart upped a beat. 'Bully for you.'

He laughed. 'Okay, suppose I said I'll marry you, would you be interested?'

She shrugged. 'That depends.'

'Well if you were, I would expect you to play your part,' he said.

She considered this for a moment. He had finally taken the bait, but it was all so acrimonious. It sounded like a declaration of war. 'Okay, marry me and I'll do whatever you want,' she replied and then instantly regretted her words.

'You'd better mean that. No more games.'

She frowned. 'Games? Who is playing games?'

'You are with me, playing hard to get,' he said.

'I'll be yours to do whatever you want with,' she answered. Like a rag doll, she thought.

'Okay, I'll postpone going back to Paris,' he said checking his watch. 'Tomorrow, we'll go to the Registry Office and tie the knot. Is there one in your nearest town?'

Her eyes were bright. 'Yes.'

'Okay, we'll get married in the morning, like that song,' he said. 'I'll stay here tonight and sleep on the couch, but tomorrow night...'

She nodded and then sighed despondently. 'Marry me and you can do anything you want...'

****

Her sleep was filled with vague but unpleasant dreams. She woke up twice, the thought strong in her mind that soon she would be Mrs Lafonte, and then her beloved Larkford would be safe once again. Stefan could deal with the solicitors. She could hear him pottering about downstairs. He said he was going to phone the Registry Office and make an appointment for a basic ceremony. But for all she knew there might not be a spot available today.

As she dressed, she wistfully thought of Johnny Leonard who had been talking about a fully-fledged wedding with all the bells and whistles which came with that. A Registry Office ceremony by comparison definitely came a poor second.

Johnny had been quite the romantic getting down on one knee in a restaurant and grabbing her hand. She was completely startled by his actions. Several heads had turned.

Geraldine, my love,' Johnny had said, his eyes almost filling with tears. 'You are the love of my life and always will be. Will you marry me?' he had then produced an engagement ring and everyone in the restaurant clapped and cheered. It was quite a moment, Geraldine thought as she gulped back tears which were now forming in her eyes.

But doubt flooded her mind about Stefan's proposal. It was more like a business deal than a proper offer of marriage, without even the slightest hint of romance. However, this was what she wanted, didn't she? But he seemed to have made up his mind; he was going to tie the knot, although she wondered what the carrot had truly been. Was it her house? Was he looking at it in the wrong way and simply wanting to use her to get to it?

She recalled his last words to her before she retired to bed last night. 'Are you sure you want to marry me?' he had asked.

She had paused before replying. Certainly, she wanted and needed him to marry her, but as for love, it simply wasn't part of the equation. She no more loved him than he loved her. 'Yes, I'm sure,' she had replied.

He had nodded and then given her a wolfish look, as if he knew his hunger for her would soon be satisfied once he had a ring on her finger. But it was an expensive way of satisfying a craving. Perhaps it was more than that. Franny had certainly given her sufficient warnings about him and would have preferred to have seen Dr Carson escort her up the aisle.

She quickly brushed her hair at the vanity table as she wondered how long their union would last. But it didn't matter how brief. Even if Stefan wanted a divorce the very next week, she would be agreeable, as it would have achieved its objective. New divorce laws meant that quickie divorces were now legal and viable. The sooner the better, she thought.

Stefan, she realised was clearly quite a mechanical man. He knew what he wanted and simply went for it. When she had agreed to his proposal, his face had not registered any particular emotion. He had been quite matter of fact. There had been no fireworks, but perhaps a little elation on her part, although only because it meant Larkford was secured. At least, she certainly hoped so.

When Johnny Leonard had proposed, she was so overcome with joy that she could hardly contain herself. She thought her heart would burst such were the intensity of her feelings. But all she felt now was a kind of uncomfortable nervousness. She didn't feel like a bride. In fact, she didn't even have anything special to wear for the occasion.

Coming downstairs, she found Stefan in the lounge on his mobile phone. He put it down when she came into the room. 'It's all arranged, two o'clock this afternoon and I've booked a room at the Lancing Hotel in town. Obviously, you know it?'

She stood staring down at him on the couch. 'Yes, of course.'

'How secret do you want this to be?' he asked oddly.

'Secret?' she queried. 'What do you mean?'

He shrugged. 'This is going to be a marriage of convenience, isn't it?'

She frowned. He apparently knew more than he was revealing. 'I don't mind telling friends and family,' she replied

He pulled a face. 'That is up to you. But I know what _you're really after_ ,' he said.

'What?'

He smoothed his hair and yawned. 'Playing games again, are we?'

'Stefan, I wish you'd stop saying that. I _certainly_ know what you want.'

He nodded. 'I make no secret of my admiration for you.'

'Do you want it to be for life?' she asked.

'The marriage?' He laughed. 'That depends.'

'I'm agreeable to a quick divorce if you're disappointed in me.'

Her remark was evidently a surprise to him. 'Are you serious?' he asked.

Geraldine sat down near him. 'I'm always serious.'

Stefan got to his feet and went to the window. 'You are certainly an unusual woman.'

She shrugged at these words.

'I must tell you that tomorrow, I will have to go to Paris,' he said. 'I know it's the day after our tying the knot, but I have been putting it off, and it urgently needs to be done.'

'Tomorrow?' she said as she steeled herself at the thought that tonight, he would be having his way with her at the hotel. It was something she had tried to put from her mind, but the thought had been persistent.

'Yes, tomorrow,' he said. 'I'm sorry, bad timing!'

'It is!' she said. 'But you haven't told me why.'

'Just a domestic issue,' he explained.

She pulled a face and then went into the kitchen. He obviously lived a very private life and there were clearly parts of it she would never know about. But the word 'domestic' that he had used suggested that he might even have another wife? If he married again, it would make him a bigamist.

If that was the case, she didn't care. It would mean he would have to split his time. She certainly didn't relish the idea of having to share her bed with him, night after night. Of all the thoughts which repulsed her, this was the most offensive one. Perhaps she could sleep in her mother's bed when he didn't want her.

Her mobile phone rang. She quickly answered it. It was Dr Carson. 'Hi Geraldine, sorry I missed you at Franny's party. How's your tablet supply? Need another prescription?'

'No thank you doctor,' she replied. It was good of him to be so solicitous. He was such a boon to the village and greater community, although he did seem particularly interested in her welfare. She wondered what he would think if he knew she was going to get married, though he would find out soon enough. They chatted for about five minutes and then Dr Carson reluctantly said he had to be off and they ended the call.

It was at this point that Geraldine decided to go up to the bedroom. She needed to look through her wardrobe to find something suitable to wear for the Registry Office. She was tempted just to put on a top and jeans. Stefan watched her go upstairs without comment. He seemed as cool as a cucumber, but she was beginning to feel some nerves.

Upstairs she found her recently cleaned tight green suit, which fortunately still fitted, and she quickly threw it on. The skirt was above the knee but was still tasteful. The outfit went well with her white frilly blouse, although she would look more like a guest at the ceremony rather than the bride. Actually, it was an outfit that Johnny Leonard had liked and so it was really time she stocked up with some new clothes.

' _Everything alright?'_ Stefan suddenly bellowed from downstairs. It sounded as if he was getting restless.

She came out onto the landing. _'You don't have to shout!'_

'Who's shouting,' he said with a shrug, looking up at her from the hallway. 'What's that you're wearing?'

'Don't you like it?'

'Hmm,' he said and then went back into the lounge.

She wondered what he was going to wear. He seemed unprepared. 'So, you're not dressing up then?' she said coming down the stairs.

As she walked into the lounge, he suddenly grabbed her and kissed her full on the lips. There was an urgency about his embrace, but still resistance in her.

'So, you're not going to put on a suit or anything?' she asked again as she pulled herself away.

'I've got a suit in the boot of my car,' he replied. 'I'll slip that on. We've still got time.'

She nodded, her face pale. 'Okay.'

'Hey, calm down,' he said looking her in the eyes. 'You're shaking like a leaf!'

'I'm nervous,' she replied. 'Fancy a gin and tonic?'

He smiled. 'Always, yeah and make mine a big one.'

She went over to the minibar and prepared two stiff drinks.

He sat down on the couch eyeing her figure. 'Look, you're behaving as if you're having second thoughts. But I'm not. I've made a sound decision.'

She brought over their drinks and handed him his. She sat down next to him, but not too close. 'Your days are quite flexible,' she said. 'What does your boss say?'

'I don't have a boss,' he replied. 'My office is my phone and laptop.'

'I see,' she said. 'We are about to get married and I don't even know that much about your work.'

'There's not much to know,' he replied. 'I drive around looking for derelict properties, put in an offer, get my builders in, renovate and put the result on the market. I also run restaurants. Any more questions?'

She smiled humourlessly. _'Restaurants?_ Really?'

'Yup,' he said shortly.

'You must be a busy bee then!'

'I am.'

'So are they all in Paris then?'

He pulled a face. 'They're here, there and everywhere!'

She licked her lips. 'So, when are you going to Paris again?'

'Soon,' he replied.

'If you need to go straight away, I wouldn't mind,' she said giving him a hard searching look.

'Trying to get rid of me?'

She shrugged. She probably was. She was not used to entertaining men. She would rather be doing some housework. 'Whose car are we going into the registry Office?' she asked.

'Your choice, you're the bride,' he stated.

'I don't want anyone from the village seeing me dressed up,' she said. 'People know my car so perhaps we should go in yours.'

He nodded, and the conversation continued in this vein over the next hour. Stefan then checked his watch. 'Oh! _We need to get moving.'_

At these words, Geraldine went cold, as if the hand of fear had suddenly gripped her. It was ridiculous but she was almost shaking in terror. 'Right,' she said _. 'You'd better get your suit out of the boot!'_

****

Geraldine was shocked when Stefan took off his shirt and trousers behind his car and dressed himself out in the open. She sat in the front seat of the car praying that no one from the village would see him. Fortunately, her house was well out of the way of village pedestrians and cars rarely drove passed. She shook her head. What kind of a man was he? What kind of a marriage would it be? She could only fear the worst.

He climbed into the drivers' seat and gave her a big wet kiss on her cheek. 'Like what you see?' he asked, looking immaculate in a grey suit. Grey was evidently his preferred colour. He then opened the glove compartment and pulled out a small velvet box. 'Prezzie!'

She took it and opened it. It was a beautiful set of diamonds and pearls. 'Oh!'

'Something for you to wear for the ceremony if you want,' he said with a broad smile.

'They look antique,' she said.

'One of the spoils of my profession,' he explained. 'I bought a broken-down property in Dover and found these under the floorboards of a cupboard. Must have been there for years.'

'Are you giving these to me?' she asked.

'If you want them,' he replied. 'They are no good to me. I was just looking for an excuse to give them to someone. Probably worth a bit.'

****

Before she knew it, Geraldine was a married woman, and she had the ring to prove it. It sparkled in the cold lights of the Registry Office. As for feeling like a proper bride, she didn't. She felt that she was almost standing in for someone else. Another woman should have been in her place marrying Stefan. Despite this, she was full of gladness that she had finally secured her home; if only she was with Johnny Leonard.

She and Stefan left the Registry Office and headed back to the carpark. There was no one to throw any bunting over them and so it was a bit of an anti-climax. She was holding onto Stefan's arm and he gave her an almost shy look. Sometimes it was impossible to know what he was thinking.

'Well, Mrs Lafonte,' he said. 'You've finally taken the plunge!'

She nodded not knowing what to say to this, so she simply said, 'Yup.' Then she did something she had never done before with Stefan, volunteered to kiss him. She pecked him on the cheek, and he squeezed her arm.

'I see you're coming 'round,' he responded. 'We'll have lunch at the Lancing Hotel. It's not booked, we can take potluck.'

'I don't care,' she said as they climbed into his car. She checked the sky and saw that for the moment the sun was determined to stay out for a while.

'I did have a glance at the menu,' he said. 'They do a lot of fancy stuff, salady stuff.'

'To hell with that, I want proper food!' she stated.

He found this amusing. 'All that worrying you've been doing has given you an appetite!'

****

While not exactly ecstatic, Geraldine was definitely feeling more settled. In fact all through their expensive three course meal, she was quite talkative. Here she was sitting with a man she had mentally been demonising, and yet it was no longer an issue. Getting married had liberated her for the moment and the dead parts of her were being revived.

As she talked, she noticed that Stefan was hanging on to every word, and it was clear that he really enjoyed her company. It was also obvious to her that his own remarks were very minimal, almost guarded as if he was hiding some crucial facts from her. But that didn't matter, she wasn't planning for him to stay around for very long.

'Shall we go up to the suite,' he said after they had finished their meal. 'Or if you want, we can go somewhere else.'

She looked at him. 'But you've booked the suite.'

'But the bed may be too hard,' he replied. 'What I especially hate about hotels are their uncomfortable beds.'

'I haven't stayed in too many hotels,' she said.

'Hmm,' he replied and called the waiter over and paid the bill.

'But I'm sure the bed will be okay,' she said beginning to fear the inevitable, a whole night with Stefan.

'Let's go up and see what the suite is like,' he suggested. 'But if it's not up to standard, we'll go somewhere else. Maybe back to yours. See, I've been spoiled by Parisian hotels. They really are the best in the world in my opinion!'

They left the dining room and Stefan collected the keys from the concierge, and they went up to the second floor where their suite was. Stefan immediately went and bounced on the bed. Geraldine stood in the middle of the suite watching him. She was beginning to get cold feet again. 'How is it?' she asked.

'Try it for yourself,' he answered.

She went over and sat on the bed, but it felt alien to her, and it was positioned too near the window where there was a bit of a draft. 'I don't know. But we've already paid, haven't we?'

'Partly,' he replied. 'No, I don't like it either.'

She frowned. What was he planning? To get her back home again where he obviously felt more comfortable. Perhaps more in control. 'It's not too bad,' she said.

'Let's go back to yours,' he said. 'Best to start how we mean to continue!'

They left the hotel suite, paid the balance and drove back to the village. Geraldine found his moods a bit strange, but she was glad she was back on familiar turf. There was something a bit austere about the Lancing Hotel and the staff were sniffy.

Stefan made no attempt to bring anything into her house. He literally appeared to live out of the suitcase which he kept in the boot of his car. As far as he was apparently concerned it was best left there. 'I bet your bedroom is comfy and cosy,' he said pointedly.

'It is comfortable,' she replied.

'You haven't fully shown me around yet,' he said as he stood looking at her expectantly. They were standing in the hallway.

'Let me show you the bedroom,' she replied. 'I have to change anyway.'

'Okay,' he answered.

She couldn't think of anything else to say. But she didn't want him to think that she was keen to get him in the bedroom. In fact, now he was back here with her, it all seemed to be leading to one thing, and she would just have to grin and bear it. She couldn't deny him what he clearly wanted and expected.

They went upstairs, Stefan admiring the paintings and prints on the walls. She opened her bedroom door and showed him in. He was nodding his head. 'Now this is better,' he observed. 'I have always liked floral wallpaper. Laura Ashley?'

'No, Harrods, actually,' she answered, but this was a lie. 'I have an ensuite which is handy.' She was beginning to get nervous again. 'Sometimes I sleep in my mother's bedroom.'

'On occasions like this?' he queried with a laugh.

She laughed nervously too but wasn't really amused.

'Of course, if we ever have a row, I can always sleep in there,' he said tweaking her wrist.

She checked the clock on the bedside table. It wasn't even five o'clock. Surely, he didn't want to go to bed now? She went into the ensuite and decided to change back into her casual clothes again. She had left a pair of jeans and a blouse on the side. She slowly changed into these wondering what Stefan wanted to do now. The fact that he had found his way into her bedroom was surely a sign of his intentions.

Naturally, she couldn't deny him what every man seemed to expect on his wedding night, but it was still early evening. On the way back in the car he did say something about going to get drunk in the 'local tavern to celebrate,' as he put it. She presumed she meant the two of them.

She opened the little ensuite's window and caught a fragrance of the country air which seemed to be beckoning her outside. Perhaps they could spend this part of the evening having a drink on the back porch. The temperature had risen again. Or perhaps she could start an argument and set the ball rolling for an early divorce. Also, if the marriage was not consummated, that was also grounds for divorce, although the law had changed, and such conditions were no longer required.

At the same time, she didn't want to be completely ungrateful. By marrying her he had saved her house. That placed her under a certain obligation, but it didn't mean that she had to sell her soul to him lock stock and barrel. She took a deep breath and emerged from the ensuite to find Stefan sitting on her bed studying the photograph of her parents which she kept on the bedside table.

'They look like the perfect mum and dad,' he observed.

She stood at the bottom of the bed, once again feeling wary and expecting him to do something untoward. 'Yes, they were lovely. I shall always miss them.'

'Mine are still alive,' he said. 'But I don't see much of them.' He looked up at her. 'Come here!' he commanded.

Geraldine tensed. The moment she had been dreading might have finally arrived earlier than expected. She slowly came over to him.

'We haven't properly said hello since getting married,' he said.

'Haven't we?'

He stood up and looked deeply into her eyes. His expression was troubled. 'What's wrong?'

'Why don't we have a drink first, like you suggested,' she stalled.

But he had already taken her in his arms, pressing his body against hers. He then brushed her lips lightly with his own. He pulled his head away again. 'You're not enjoying this are you?'

'I'm still trying to get used to the fact that I'm married,' she said, as her mixed emotions rushed everywhere. 'I don't feel that I'm quite ready.' But this was dishonest of her; what she meant was that she wished it was Johnny Leonard in her arms.

Stefan reacted like a man who could read every thought and feeling. 'You are so tense,' he said. 'Perhaps having a drink _would_ help after all.'

'It might,' she said.

'Don't worry, I'm not expecting you to jump into bed with me right this minute!' he said.

'Oh,' she replied. She was still in his arms and she was waiting for him to let her go. But she couldn't be so churlish as to pull away, especially as they were now man and wife. She felt like a fish caught in a net.

'No, the issue is not bed,' he said. 'Just whether you really want to be with me,' he then kissed her again, and this time she felt herself relaxing.

'I'm grateful,' she replied. And then she surprised herself by kissing Stefan back. She could see the delight in his eyes. He then moved in for another kiss which seemed to reach deep within her. The pleasure he took was obvious. Suddenly the nervousness left her.

'I know you like me a little,' he said.

Their faces were close and their eyes locked. He then brought his hands down to her hips and pulled her closer to him. She could sense his excitement. Heat rolled from him like a furnace and completely enveloped her, but still she resisted. Her mind was unsure. Images of Johnny Leonard competed for attention. 'Please, let's have that drink first,' she said.

He released her, but she noticed that he too was trembling, although not from fear. For a split second, a hard look passed over his face, but he might have been rebelling at her obtuseness. 'I think I could use a drink too,' he said stiffly.

****

They sat on the porch sharing a bottle of Martini, Geraldine entertaining the usual mishmash of uncertainty. Then to her surprise, Stefan volunteered to make supper, despite having had a big meal at the Lancing. She assisted him in the kitchen, and he rustled up some welsh rarebit which incorporated his secret ingredient, which turned out to be chilli powder.

The Martini had relaxed her somewhat, but she was like a split woman, grateful and yet dreading what was to come that night. She was also still entertaining some loyalty towards Johnny Leonard which she knew was misguided.

Stefan was conversational, talking about the properties he had renovated. Then he suddenly put his arm around her when they were clearing away after supper, and she jumped like a cat on a hot tin roof. Her nervousness startled him, and he was beginning to show signs of finding her tiresome.

They watched tv for an hour, sitting quite close to each other on the sofa, but he made no attempt to touch her. Then at about eleven, Geraldine said, 'I think I'll get ready for bed.'

He nodded. 'I'll be up soon.'

She went upstairs and darted into her little ensuite and had a shower. She was conscious of feeling the effect of the Martini which gave her some much needed Dutch courage to face her coming ordeal. But there was no escaping it; as a married man he was entitled to share her bed, if only for one night. And it wasn't as if she hadn't had sex with a man before. She was just out of practise. But there was no arguing away the obligation she now had towards Stefan for rescuing Larkford. At least that was secure, and so one night of awkwardness, even pain perhaps, was worth it. She could face that.

She dried herself, put on a nightdress and tidied up her hair in the ensuite mirror. She looked distinctly pale, like a woman facing a terrifying uncertainty. She went into the bedroom and climbed under the duvet. Waiting nervously for Stefan to make his appearance, she was surprised when he noiselessly entered her bedroom.

'Have a shower if you want,' she suggested.

He stood silently watching her. 'I might do.'

She pulled the duvet around her. 'You alright?'

'I'm fine,' he said coming over to her. 'You've changed your hair.'

'Just brushed it,' she said.

He sat down on the bed next to her. 'I have never brushed my hair, ever!'

'It's good for the head,' she replied.

'I expect it is,' he said standing up and going towards the ensuite.

'I have left out the big towel for you on the radiator,' she said with a forced smile.

He went into the ensuite and she could hear him showering and humming to himself. It sent a chill down her spine. Then he re-emerged again, seeming anxious to re-join her. He had the big towel wrapped around him. 'That was just what I needed!' he exclaimed.

'Good!' she said as she braced herself. Her heart was beginning to flutter, and she had to take more breaths than usual.

'The shower I have in my Paris apartment really needs replacing,' he said. 'It usually takes half an hour to warm up.'

'Can't beat a power shower,' she replied.

He sat on the bed next to her again and took her hand. 'Oh, you are so cold to the touch!'

She tried to detach herself from what he was doing. He was gently rubbing the back of her hand, then he turned it over and studied her palm. She was rooted to the spot wondering what he was going to do next.

'Good lifeline,' he said. 'I think you're going to outlive me.'

'You never know,' she said as she tensed waiting for him to grab her.

She was not disappointed. He abruptly moved towards her on the bed and pulled her arms so that she fell into his. The moment she had been dreading had arrived.

'Come here,' he said kissing her passionately. His body reeked of some foreign cologne. He began to caress her, and she submitted to him without comment. But she did so purely because he expected it and there was no logical reason not to that would be acceptable.

He yanked her cotton nightdress down exposing her bare shoulders and he began to kiss her neck and collar bone. However, the more ardent he became, the more she withdrew from him. She wasn't ready to give him her all. With her breasts now exposed, he began cradling them with his hands and mouthing them. She stiffened feeling repulsed and invaded. It wasn't even enough to try and trick herself into thinking that it was Johnny Leonard in bed with her.

Stefan's face was almost frightening, so full of determined lust was it, that she felt he was really just an animal using marriage as an excuse to violate her. It was all too much. She gave him a firm shove and pushed him to the edge of the bed. _'I can't!'_ she said. _'No, stop, please!'_

He looked at her in astonishment as she scrambled off the bed covering her semi nakedness. He looked like a man bewildered. _'Geraldine, what the hell?'_

'I'm not ready,' she blurted out. 'I haven't got over my mother's death yet, I'm all mixed up! I can't!'

'Not even on your wedding night?' he said, frowning. He stood up and came towards her. 'Then why did you marry me? To tease me? Is that it?'

'It's not that,' she said looking at him with genuine fear, knowing that she might have pushed him too far. 'I just need more time.'

Having her cornered, he grabbed her again. 'Time is not a luxury I have. I'll be going to Paris soon.'

'Just let me think about it. And I swear I will come 'round,' she implored.

But clearly Stefan's patience had run out. A hardness had crept into his voice and his eyes were dark and sulky. 'You're not quite playing the game, my dear. Modern people don't mess around like this!' He gripped her arms firmly. She couldn't get away even if she tried.

'I know, I apologise,' she began.

He had had enough. He moved his head firmly forward and kissed her hard and possessively on the mouth again. He was showing that he now owned her and was no longer prepared to be the polite gamely gentleman. She struggled determined not to let him take her. But he began kissing her neck and pulling down her top again and kissing her breasts. It was a situation that she could not easily extricate herself from.

' _Please, Stefan, respect what I'm saying!'_ her voice was almost a scream. She pushed him away again and pulled her nightdress up.

'I respect every word you say,' he replied. 'I also respect the fact that you agreed to marry me and must now live with that!'

She slipped out of his grasp, but there was nowhere to run. His eyes appeared hypnotised by the glimpses he had had of her. His wanting had completely overcome his senses. She realised that it was a battle that she might lose. 'I'm sorry,' she said weakly.

'Sorry doesn't cut it,' he said. 'What did you expect was going to happen on your wedding night? Do you even know about the birds and the bees?'

'Don't be ridiculous,' she replied with a shake of her head.

'Who's the one being ridiculous?' he said sitting down on the bed and looking up at her.

She was still standing by the wall. 'I'm just not ready.'

'It's clear to me that you're still pining for that other fellow,' he said. 'Either that or your friend Franny told you all about me, and you thought, right, I'll have some of that! But you didn't think it through.'

She sighed. 'Franny just said you were a property developer who is quite well-to-do.'

'So she didn't tell you about all my other enterprises then?' he asked pointedly. 'About my portfolio of a hundred and fifty properties; about my twenty-five car dealerships; about my advertising agency and video production company; about my chain of restaurants? Two hundred branches as of this year. New one opening in Paris.'

She gaped. ' _What!_ I had no idea.'

'Really? So you're not a fortune hunter then?' he said cruelly.

'Not at all,' she answered. 'If I had known you were so rich, I would never have bothered talking to you.'

Stefan frowned at this. 'No? Well that's a new one. Most women fall over themselves to get a handle on my empire.'

'Well, I'm not one of them,' she said. 'To be honest, I don't think I even believe you.'

He grinned widely, stood up and took her again, kissing her on the neck. 'It amazes me how women will say just about anything rather than be found out.'

She let him fondle her but didn't come back to the bed. 'I'm not a liar Stefan. When Franny said you were a property developer, I immediately thought builder. That's what builders call themselves, isn't it, to make themselves appear more important?'

He ran her hands over her bare shoulders. 'I used to be, but I leveraged everything up to the next level each time. That's how I grew. But I never had much time for a serious relationship.'

'I'm your first marriage then?' she asked. 'So, you're not a bigamist?'

' _What?'_ he pulled his head away from her. 'A bigamist? Who told you this? Franny?'

'You said you had domestic issues in Paris to deal with,' she replied. 'I just assumed that meant that you were already married or had a partner.'

' _No, not at all!_ I am presently renovating my apartment in Paris _with you in mind_ ,' he answered. He bent his head forward again and planted several hot kisses on her shoulders. 'Also, I have the opening of my latest restaurant in Paris to oversee.' His voice was becoming husky.

'So why do you live out of a suitcase then?' she asked.

He was gently tugging at her cotton nightdress, trying to pull it down, but she was holding it firmly.

'It is only a temporary situation,' he said. 'But sometimes it's a case of having to, no pun intended.'

She could feel her garment slipping under his pressure, but she brought it up again. 'What are you doing in this part of the world?'

'Didn't Franny tell you?' he replied. 'I've known Franny for years. They once bought a car from one of my showrooms; that's how I met them. But I was looking for a house to live in for when I come to England. They mentioned that your house Larkford might be up for sale!'

Geraldine pulled herself away from him _. 'What!'_

'That's what she said,' Stefan replied. 'I just didn't realise how attractive its occupant was.'

Geraldine stared at him. His towel had fallen to the floor and the urgency of his desire was apparent. She looked away _. 'Pick your towel up please!'_ she demanded.

He bent down reluctantly and tied it around his waist again. 'You know how to torture a man, don't you!'

'Look, Stefan, I feel tired and stressed, I just want to go to sleep that's all,' she said. 'But let me make it clear. This house is not for sale.'

He reached for her again. 'Now that we're married, that's no longer an issue is it?'

She looked at him doubtfully. 'It shouldn't be.'

He pulled her to him again and pressed himself against her, determined to break her resolve. She stiffened in resistance as his body heat enveloped her. They stood awkwardly, but she could tell that he was getting the message. His wedding night was not going to be satisfied in the way he had hoped. Tears suddenly formed in her eyes, which completely stopped him in his tracks.

' _For heaven's sake, what now?_ ' he sounded peeved. 'Why in heaven's name are you crying?'

She wiped her tears. 'Because you don't care about my feelings. You just want to take what you want with no regard to how I feel about it!'

He released his hold of her. 'You make it sound so basic! What about _my_ feelings and expectations?'

'What about them?' she said as she once again rearranged her night dress and sat heavily down on the bed. He looked at her with a bemused expression.

'Is this how it's going to be then?' he asked.

She shrugged. 'I don't know, that depends.'

He shook his head and then suddenly stormed out of the bedroom _. 'I think I'm going to make myself a drink!'_
Chapter Four

Somehow, Geraldine fell asleep, and when she awoke, she had no idea whether Stefan had spent the night with her or not. But she immediately caught sight of him sitting on the small stool by the dressing table. He was reading the label on her plastic container of tablets that Dr Carson had given her. She tried to gauge his mood, but it occurred to her in the fresh light of day that she needed to be more compliant. By not allowing their marriage to be consummated, she feared that she had put it in jeopardy, and by that token had possibly placed Larkford at risk.

He looked up at her, but his temperament was not particularly friendly. 'How many of these do you need to take to stay sane?' he asked nastily.

'They are just for anxiety,' she replied annoyed that he had clearly taken the container out of her dressing table drawer. 'And I don't appreciate you going through my things.'

'I'm just trying to work out what makes you tick,' he said. 'If these are for anxiety, they don't appear to be working.'

'You're wrong,' she replied. 'But last night I was _in a state_ , just mixed up.'

'Mixed up? As in, you didn't know what you were supposed to do on your wedding night?' he supplied. 'Yes, that was obvious.'

'You don't have to be so unpleasant,' she said pulling the sheets up to her chin.

'I'm not used to women behaving like this with me,' he said with a frown. He looked at the container of tablets again and rattled them. 'You've got plenty left. Actually, I've never heard of these before – _Cobalaminphenylzac!_ Trade name, _Lamylphase?_ _You sure these are kosha?'_

'I trust my doctor,' she said holding her hands out for the container.

He leaned forward on the little stool and passed it to her. 'You better tell your doctor that he needs to prescribe something else. Perhaps if he put you on something different you wouldn't be behaving like a scared rabbit!'

' _Stefan if you're going to talk like that, you can go downstairs.'_

'I want to know why you're on these,' he said. 'Something is not right here.'

She sighed and rubbed her forehead. Even though he was now married to her, she found his question intrusive. 'I already told you.'

He stared at her intently. 'Not the whole story.'

She sat back against the headboard of the bed. It was too early in the morning to go into all that stuff. It would reveal a vulnerable side which she didn't necessarily want to discuss. 'Why do you think people take tablets for anxiety?'

'Is that all they are?' he asked.

'Yes, look, must we talk about this now?'

He nodded. 'Your welfare is important to me. Is it mainly because of your mother's passing?'

'That and other things,' she replied. 'Stefan, I would like to get up now.'

He ran his fingers over his bottom lip. 'But I've never heard of these tablets before.'

'Well, they are not just for anxiety,' she replied. 'See, I'm still struggling to come to terms with my broken engagement to Johnny Leonard. It was a shock.'

Stefan snorted. 'Don't you realise how that makes me feel? Are you still in love with him?'

She shook her head without answering.

' _Well, are you?'_ he demanded.

'No, I think I hate him.'

'Because he jilted you?'

'Of course,' she answered. 'Anyone would feel as I do.'

'Sounds to me that your doctor hasn't just prescribed these for anxiety but probably depression as well.'

She shrugged. 'All I know is that they help. But I get side effects.'

'Like what?'

'Headaches,' she said. She looked at the door of the ensuite wishing she could be on the other side of it. This conversation was just too heavy for eight thirty am. But soon he would be returning to Paris which would give her a bit of a respite from his badgering.

'Five milligrams three times a day,' he said remembering what was on the container. 'Did you take any last night?'

'I did,' she admitted. This was now turning into an interrogation.

'For some Dutch courage perhaps?'

'No, I just take them as prescribed,' she answered.

'Okay, well from now on, I want you to do me a favour. _Stop taking them,_ ' he said firmly.

' _I can't just stop taking them!'_

'Yes you can,' he said. 'Or start to reduce them. Otherwise this marriage is going to go to pot!'

She smiled without humour. 'You can't blame the tablets.'

'You'd be surprised how powerful these innocent-looking drugs can be,' he said. 'I want you back in the real world with me.'

She bunched up her fists on the bed. What right did he have to demand she stop taking her medication? All he cared about was what he could get from her. Her health was clearly only a secondary consideration. Annoyed by his attitude, she made a move to get out of bed.

Stefan's hungry eyes moved to her bare neckline. 'Better come down to breakfast before I throw those tablets out the window!' he stood up and made his way to the bedroom door.

She waited for him to go. The man was just too much! But thank God she wasn't going to be stuck with him forever. She needed to start working on her masterplan more determinedly. Denying him satisfaction in bed was a good start.

Climbing out of bed, she quickly went into the ensuite and locked the door. She was comforted by the fact that he would be leaving soon, and would probably be an absentee husband, especially with all his businesses on the go. She could use that as an excuse to file for a divorce.

Half an hour later she came downstairs in a pink top and tracksuit and found the breakfast table set up with a box of cornflakes, a bowl and a jug of milk. The coffee was bubbling merrily away in the percolator but there was no sign of Stefan.

Suddenly his head rose above the back of the minibar in the lounge. He had been sorting through her collection of wines and spirits which had been accumulated by her father. Stefan held up a bottle of rare whiskey. 'Now that's what I call a man's drink!'

She folded her arms peeved that he thought he could now go and do whatever he wanted in her house. 'It's a bit early in the morning, isn't it?' she said.

'We'll have some later,' he said coming over to her and planting a kiss on her cheek, but she was in no mood to respond. He threw himself onto the sofa. 'Well?' he asked.

'Well what?'

'Are you having any breakfast or are you just going to glower at me all day?' he asked in a funny tone.

'Glowering sounds good,' she replied almost by accident. But his cocky attitude invited it.

'Oh really?' he said giving her a hard look. 'So, tell me, why did we get married?'

She shrugged but remained where she was. 'What kind of question is that?'

'A question a man is entitled to ask his new wife if she seems preoccupied by something,' he replied. 'Perhaps you are wondering if I really am as rich as you have been told.'

She shook her head. 'No one has said anything of the kind,' she replied. 'You yourself told me.'

'So you didn't marry me for my money then?' he said.

'I was going to marry Johnny Leonard for even less,' she replied. 'He is as poor as a church mouse.'

'Then it must have been true love,' Stefan observed. 'Shame he jilted you. I bet that hurt!'

She frowned genuinely stung by his comment. 'I think you'd better go to Paris as soon as,' she said.

'I'll go in my own good time,' he answered.

She hovered uncertainly on the kitchen threshold. She knew that she had annoyed him by not giving in to the marriage bed. But at this rate she might not surrender at all.

'Franny told me you had legal problems to do with the house,' he said.

' _She's got a big mouth!'_ Geraldine replied pleased that she had. 'That's my business.'

'Hmm,' Stefan said with a nod. 'Well it's not your business any longer. I was doing some digging while you were upstairs asleep. Found a lot of correspondence in that old bureau in the office. Whose office was it?'

Pretending to be aghast at these revelations, she took a step towards him. _'You haven't been reading my private letters, have you?_ _How dare you!_ _Who the hell do you think you are!_ I knew I should have kept the bureau locked!' But secretly she was glad he had been making himself busy. He was now falling for the bait.

He leaned back, impressed by her apparent anger. 'Well you didn't. And perhaps I can now fathom why you wanted to get married to me. It wasn't for love, that's for sure.'

'I don't want to talk about it,' she said going into the kitchen trying to play it all down. She didn't want him to guess that she had left the bureau unlocked deliberately.

He got up from the sofa and followed her. 'From what I can see, you are running out of money and can't pay the mortgage on this property. So as a solution your solicitor is proposing to sign over this house into a Trust. You would effectively be his tenant in return for paying a reduced mortgage premium!'

She shrugged. Stefan had clearly been raking through all her mail. She stared at him. 'Well so what? We all have a cross to bear.'

'Only this was a burden you were clearly hoping would go away once we had married,' he said seemingly half-guessing the truth of the situation. 'And you are right! You now no longer have to submit to your solicitor's recommendations. From what I can see he is quite a bolshie character.'

'You've done your homework,' she answered as she went to put away the breakfast things.

'That's something I always do,' Stefan stated. 'That's why I did a lot of research on this house even before I met you. Do you realise that at one time this house was part of a much bigger estate going back four hundred years?'

She looked at him quite astonished. 'No.'

'Lucky you met me then,' Stefan said with a smirk. 'I've just saved your house from the grubby hands of your solicitor, who would have made a killing if you had had to relinquish the property completely. If you didn't keep up with your reduced mortgage payments, he would have acquired it lock stock and barrel. He then would have had access to the secret catacombs which are supposedly just below this house, where a lot of Tudor artefacts are said to be stored! They told me about it in the library!'

She blinked. _'It's just a rumour.'_

'The librarian was certain of it!' he said. 'So, now you're married to me and your valuable house is safe, but I sort of feel short-changed. I haven't yet received what everyman expects when he gets married. You've cheated me. What was your plan? To starve me of affection until I got fed up and divorced you?'

Geraldine opened the kitchen door which led to the garden. 'Perhaps we shouldn't have got married. I don't know what I was thinking.' She gave him a quick sly glance. She knew he wanted her and that she was the prize he was after – to intimately possess her like his other women. But perhaps her refusal to fully cooperate with him was going to keep him interested. He clearly had an enquiring mind and it did seem that he wanted to understand her.

'So you say you didn't know what you were thinking?' he repeated. 'You just acted on impulse, did you?'

She shrugged. 'Look, you're asking me questions I don't know the answers to. See the main thing that was in my mind was to do something to save my house from ending up in the Trust. And I thought to be fair to you, you could use one of the rooms upstairs as your office instead of having to live at the local pub. Franny said you were a bit of an itinerant.'

Stefan frowned and then gave her a double take. _'So now the truth comes out!_ Well, that's mighty thoughtful of you. So, _you are_ after my money then? And in return I'd get some bucolic office space, but nothing else? No TLC?'

'I thought you'd get bored with me,' she said sidestepping his question, 'When Johnny dumped me, I worried that it might be the start of a pattern.'

He nodded. 'You haven't answered my question. But let me get this right then. Johnny Leonard was the love of your life, but he gave you the elbow, as you English say, and so you transferred your love to this house? But you needed a sucker to bail you out of your financial problems?'

'I've always loved this house,' she replied sitting down at the kitchen table. Stefan was hovering at the door between the kitchen and lounge. She glanced up at him again and then felt a surge of annoyance at his persistence. Of course, he had a right to know what was going on, but his approached just rubbed her up the wrong way. However, she should be glad. She had achieved her objective, the house was now safe, and the solicitor was powerless, only Charles Malverne didn't know it yet.

'What did your mother think?' Stefan asked. 'I mean about your break-up with Johnny Leonard?'

Geraldine raised her hand. 'I would appreciate it if you didn't use his name again.'

Stefan snorted. 'I don't want to use his name any more than I have to. But from what I could see reading your letters, a life insurance policy didn't pay up as it was supposed to do. Was that possibly why _you were dumped?'_

Geraldine stared down into her hands, cringing at his callous phraseology _. 'You mean Johnny dumped me because he knew I was broke?'_

'That's possible, isn't it?' Stefan suggested. 'At first, he thought great, a nice big house to live in with a pretty bird for company. Then it turns out you had a load of financial problems. Any man might run a mile.'

'So he might still love me then?' she said weakly, ignoring his hurtful turn of phrase.

Stefan shook his head. 'I think I'm getting the picture now. Marriage is important to you, but not with me?'

'We're married, aren't we?' she replied.

'On false pretences,' he said.

Geraldine shook her head. 'The timeline is wrong anyway. Johnny left me before I knew the policy wasn't going to pay up.'

Stefan rubbed his forehead and sighed. 'Just tell me, if you didn't have the problems that you had, would you still have consented to marry me?'

She pulled a face. She was aware that he was studying her profile, trying to dig even deeper into her mind. Even when he was silent, he was being intrusive. But he had a right to know. 'Maybe I wouldn't have agreed,' she replied.

'Maybe?' he repeated. 'So, when Johnny dumped you, it didn't spell the end of your interest in finding a man and settling down?'

Suddenly Geraldine was aware of a heat coming from him again. Like the time upstairs just a few hours ago when he was on the verge of fully possessing her. 'I realise that I do need someone,' she admitted.

'But it isn't me?' he said.

'I don't know,' she replied. 'But I was always happy when my father was around, before he passed away. A man in the house does make you feel safe.'

Stefan nodded. He seemed lost for words.

She suddenly became conscious of a wasp hovering outside the kitchen window. Standing up, she went and gently closed the kitchen door. One wasp in her life was enough. She had now grown tired of discussing the issue with Stefan and wanted a break from his nagging presence, but he seemed anchored to the spot. 'I suppose you could call me a daddy's girl,' she said.

'So, you don't have an antagonism to men in general then?' he asked. He was determined to delve as deeply as he could.

'No, I don't mind men,' she replied. 'But I easily get confused. I was confused when my father sent me away to boarding school run by nuns. It was to protect me from my mother, supposedly.'

Stefan's face said it all. He came and sat opposite her at the kitchen table. 'Protect you?'

Geraldine nodded and smiled, an expression not suited to her next words, 'Yes, my mother jumped from a window at the top of this house. But she survived, although my father started to worry that my mother wouldn't look after me properly, so I got sent away.'

'That must have been tough,' Stefan murmured. His eyes were more tranquil now.

'It was,' Geraldine said. 'But the truth was, she wasn't really a danger to me. She just hated my father going away all the time on business trips. I think she was trying to get him to stay home.'

'I can see the logic of that,' Stefan said. 'But did it make any difference?'

'No,' she replied. 'My father still went off.'

Stefan sighed. 'So, jumping out of the window was a cry for his attention?'

'But he didn't heed it,' Geraldine said. 'I think he might have had someone else tucked away.'

'You mean, another woman?'

Geraldine nodded. She didn't know why she was telling Stefan all this. It was just slipping out. 'In a way, both my mother and I were badly missing him. I was at boarding school and she was left alone here.'

'I see.'

Geraldine gave Stefan a searching look. 'What I'm saying is, that I began to distrust men. Thanks to my father, I think.'

'You want to have a man around, but you are afraid that he is going to take off, like your father and Johnny Leonard?' he asked.

'That does sum it up, I suppose,' she said frowning at hearing Stefan say Johnny's name. 'But both parents were very precious to me. And here in this house I have so many memories, not all bad. That's probably why I'm so attached to it.' She stared at the window and saw that the wasp had gone.

She got up from the table and went and opened the kitchen door again and gazed across the lawn. A fleeting image of her mother came into her mind, pruning the roses in her thick leather gardening gloves. It faded as the shadow of a grey cloud floated overhead. There was no doubt that she loved her parents dearly, but life could not stop with their unceremonious departure.

Stefan had come up behind her and touched her arm. 'Well, as I see it, my job isn't to take over from your dad or your parents. But yes, I do want to look after you, though in a more normal way.'

She remained where she was. Her mind returned to the previous night and Stefan's hot fevered kisses. 'Perhaps I don't need you to look after me,' she replied.

He rested his hand on her arm. It felt like a red-hot poker burning through her skin. She moved her arm away.

'As your husband that is my obligation,' he said. 'To take care of my wife,'

'But now you know that you've been used, why would you?' she asked. 'I mean, now that you know that I'm still pining for Johnny Leonard, don't you want to end it? Divorce me?'

He walked away back to the kitchen work top and filled up the percolator. 'Don't sound too keen.'

'Franny told me that you were basically not the marrying kind,' Geraldine said watching him. 'So why not admit that this is all a big silly error of judgement?'

'Is that what you think this is?' he said without answering her question.

'Definitely,' she replied becoming more outspoken as she went along. 'If you said to me let's get a quick divorce tomorrow or this afternoon even, I would agree.'

He shook his head as he got two clean mugs out of the cupboard and set them on the worktop. 'But would you really want it? You may agree to it, but would you really want it?' he asked.

'I refused you your conjugal rights, didn't I?' she said, her eyes staring. 'That's what you want isn't it? And I'm probably not going to give them to you. So, get out while you can. I might change my mind and keep you trapped in a loveless marriage. I might sue you for every penny you've got!'

Stefan laughed at this. He wasn't taking her seriously. She was messing up.

'Well?' she said. She frowned at herself. It was coming out wrong.

The percolator began to bubble. Stefan automatically made her a coffee. 'See you've got me well trained,' he said bringing the beverage over to her.

'You haven't answered my question,' she said.

'Was that a question?' he asked. 'Okay, so suppose I divorced you, what would you do? Just continue to live here?'

She shrugged. 'Yes, I would,'

'And that is basically all that you want out of our association – this house?' he asked.

'This house and the security it will bring me,' she replied.

'And meanwhile as far as you are concerned, I can go to hell!' he said, his voice becoming cold. 'Isn't that a little bit self-centred, even criminally so, using me to acquire something material, regardless of what my feelings are?'

'Feelings?' she repeated. 'You mean your basic needs?' She was quite sure that his feelings didn't exist above his waist. Or had she miscalculated?

'Yes, believe it or not, I have a heart,' he said. 'And I was sincere when I uttered my vows. Plus, you would make me a laughingstock before all the world if my friends knew that my marriage couldn't be consummated! They'd think I was losing my touch!'

For the first time that morning, Geraldine felt a jolt of surprise. She was so used to seeing Stefan on his own that it did not occur to her that he had many friends or family. To her, he appeared to be a bit of a lone wolf. But apparently everyone knew about them. She felt sick inside. 'Oh,' she managed to say.

'In answer to your ridiculous question or whatever it is, _no, I'm not divorcing you!'_ his voice sounded vindictive.

Her head shot up at these words. She almost couldn't believe her ears. She had been counting on the divorce as an absolute certainty. _'What?'_

' _Is it your intention to make me look like a complete idiot who couldn't even please his wife on her wedding night!_ ' he was near to shouting. 'They would blame me, not you!'

'But I would explain,' she said.

'Explain! _Explain!'_ His eyes were blazing, and his fists clenched. 'How? By email? By social media?'

Geraldine stuttered. 'Well I...'

He came over to her menacingly. _'By God I will take you whenever I please! Do you understand me? You will not make a fool of me_!'

'What do you mean?'

Stefan swore. _'What do you think I mean?'_

' _You're saying you'd have your way with me, even if I refused?'_ she said aghast.

'A husband is accorded certain rights,' he replied. 'Surely you know that?'

She shook her head. _'No, I don't care! It would be rape!'_

'That's a convenient word,' he replied with a sneer.

She stood up and knocked her coffee over. 'No!' she was shaking her head. _'I want a divorce now!_ Look, perhaps we can come to an arrangement of some sort? Perhaps I can pay you off?'

' _Pay me off?'_ he said sceptically.

'I have some money,' she told him. 'I found it in the attic. You can have it, or some of it.'

'I'm already a rich man,' he replied. 'I don't need your money. _I want what you don't want to give me!'_

His words had a galvanising effect on her. Just who the hell did he think he was, laying down demands? Her brain exploded in anger. _'Well Stefan, you can spin on it!_

He nodded and then shook his head. 'You're lucky that I'm a reasonable man. Another man would have grabbed you by now!'

She gave him a cynical glance. 'Typical, threaten me with violence, would you? Well, Mr Lafonte, you'd be sorry if you so much as laid a single finger on me!'

'Oh really?' he said with an amused look in his eyes. 'Who's going to come to your rescue? Franny's husband?'

'He would if I told him what a beast you are!'

'A beast?' Stefan laughed again. 'I haven't even done anything yet, and you're calling me a beast!'

'It's your attitude,' she said with a stutter. 'In England gentlemen don't behave like that!'

'Who said I was a gentleman?' he retorted. 'No, I'm staying. And if you want to divorce me, you will have a serious legal fight on your hands. I presently retain the best Parisian lawyers in France.'

' _France! Exactly,'_ she replied. 'But the law in England respects its women.'

'But does it respect deception?' he said. 'You deceived me, and that's a serious thing. No, as of yesterday _I have moved in._ So, get used to me being here! Certainly, I can see what you mean about this house. Even if we don't love each other, we can mutually admire this old pile of bricks. And with my expertise, I can repair the south wing!'

She stared at him. She hadn't told him about the south wing which suffered bad water penetration. 'How did you know about the south wing?'

'I spotted it the moment I set eyes on this place,' he answered. 'The bricks are discoloured and there are signs of mould. It will be my first job as the new occupant here.'

' _New occupant!_ ' she repeated, seething! It was something she hadn't even thought about. Of course, now that they were married, she would have to put up with him living with her. She shook her head and walked swiftly passed him into the lounge.

It appeared that she had lost this round, but a war had many battles, she told herself. She was bound to win some. Perhaps her solicitor might be useful after all. He had been close friends with her mother. Probably had had designs on her. Geraldine glowered at Stefan. 'I can get my own wall fixed; I don't need your help.'

He watched her walk passed him into the lounge without bothering to follow her. 'That's up to you!'

She went over to the minibar and poured herself a small glass of sherry from a half empty bottle. Sherry wasn't her favourite drink, but it was what she felt she needed at the moment. She also needed to think, but it was hard with Stefan staring at her. The last thing she wanted was to be controlled by a man like him, and she certainly had no intention of being at his beck and call. Even when her mother was around, she had a lot of freedom. Stefan would soon put a stop to that.

She had to find a way of getting rid of him or her life wouldn't be her own. Swallowing the sherry in one gulp, she walked back passed him, got her purse and the car keys and left the house. A short drive would help to clear her head. Perhaps she would go to town.

****

She drove around for several miles and then went into a teashop in the neighbouring village of Nelldon. Ordering a sandwich and scone, she reflected on her morning. She hoped that when she returned home, Stefan might have got the message and had gone. But she had a feeling that she was going to be disappointed. She deliberately hung back from going home straight away, and then around six pm drove back.

As soon as she had parked her car outside Larkford, she spotted Stefan over the wall in the back garden. He had his shirt sleeves rolled up and had apparently been working. _'Oh, the prodigal wife returns,'_ he said loudly, but he didn't seem overly annoyed.

She went into the house through the garden and saw that he had been clearing out the old shed. It was one of those jobs which she had been meaning to do for ages. 'Don't waste your time,' she replied and went into the kitchen.

He appeared weary of her attitude and followed her into the house. 'Geraldine, I was almost going to come looking for you, but I just assumed you were around Franny's house.'

'And why would I go there?' she asked putting the car keys and her purse back into a drawer.

'Because you haven't got anywhere else to go,' he said with half a smirk.

'Haven't I?' she challenged. 'You'd be amazed where I could have gone.'

'Amaze me then,' he said, his muscles rippling under his shirt.

'I went for a think,' she said.

He nodded. 'You could have had a think here and saved some petrol. But please don't do that again. I'm your husband now, and we need to tell each other where we are going when we go out. Yes? Is that reasonable?'

'No, it's not reasonable,' she replied. 'As far as I'm concerned you are not my husband, not anymore. I formally dissolve the marriage now!'

He stared at her for a second and then laughed. 'God, Geraldine please, will you stop this nonsense!'

'It may be nonsense to you, but I don't think I can bear being with you for another second,' she said, ramping up her hostility.

Stefan sighed and leaned on the kitchen worktop. 'To be honest for a moment there I was seriously worried, I mean, when you were out.'

'Worried?' she said. 'About what?'

'Well, you did say that your mother had tried to take her own life,' he said sheepishly. 'For a second I thought I might have driven you to it as well!'

' _What?'_ she said almost dumbfounded. _'Tell me you're joking!_ If you're not, you don't half rate yourself Mr Lafonte! As if I would kill myself _over you!_ ' She then began to laugh almost hysterically.

He stood with a deadpan look on his face waiting for her to finish. When she did, he said, 'See what I mean? Your reactions are not normal.'

'Aren't they?' she replied feeling better for having had a good laugh. 'Then, wouldn't that be grounds for a divorce? Perhaps I'm mad.'

'Who isn't,' he replied calmly. 'The world makes you that way.'

She held up her hand. 'Look, just be honest with me. Aren't you kicking yourself that you've married me? Wouldn't it be better for you if we just split?'

Stefan gave her a long penetrating look but remained silent. It made her wonder whether he was looking at her in a different light, as someone who was vulnerable. Was he comparing her with her over-sensitive mother? It probably didn't help her cause that he knew she was taking tablets, and from what he said they were not run-of-the-mill medicines. Was Stefan now genuinely concerned about her wellbeing? If so, then that was the last thing she wanted. If Stefan did want to divorce her, he might now be having second thoughts about it.

'No, I don't want to split,' he replied finally. 'We don't know each other well enough to make that decision yet.'

She nodded. 'If you're worried that I'm going to do something stupid, then don't be. If I gave you that impression when I stormed off, then I apologise.' Her regret was sincere. Seen from his point of view it might have looked as if she was going to drive her car off the nearest riverbank.

'No need to apologise,' he said gently, his eyes slightly more warmer than they were. 'Just let's respect each other. Whenever I have to go out, I will tell you. I won't just disappear, and I would expect the same courtesy from you.'

But even when he said these words, there was a controlling element in them which immediately got her back up. 'Alright,' she replied shortly.

'Now look at the time,' he said checking the expensive-looking chronometer on his wrist. 'Time for supper, I think.'

'Don't worry,' she said. 'I had sandwiches when I was out.'

'But that was several hours ago, wasn't it?' he said.

'I don't eat that much usually,' she answered.

'Nonsense, I insist we have some supper,' he said. 'I've been killing myself in the garden and I'm starved.'

'That's okay, you go ahead,' she replied.

'I couldn't sit in the dining room having supper without you,' he insisted. 'Go put some tracksuits on and then come down and we'll eat something. I noticed that you have some salad and a nice bit of salmon in the freezer.'

'Stefan, will you _stop telling me what to do,'_ she suddenly threw at him.

'I'm not telling you what to do, I am inviting you to have some supper in your own house,' he said.

An exasperated sigh escaped her lips and without another word, she stormed upstairs. He watched her retreat. 'I'll knock us up a niçoise, would do you think? That bottle of chilled white wine will go nicely with it!'

She went into her little ensuite and slammed the door, wondering whether he heard it. Was she behaving like a child? She had been on the verge of giving him a slap. And if she had, he might have used that as grounds to cling to her even more. He was being far too reasonable. She would have to up her game if she was going to get rid of him. Just how much could a man take? She would need to test the limits, take him right to the edge.

She changed into a pair of slacks and a fresh blouse and gave her hair a shake. As she looked into the mirror, she was taken by how cherubic her cheeks looked. Perhaps arguing with Stefan was good for the circulation.

She went out onto the landing and couldn't help smelling the piquancy of the salad that he was preparing. It wafted deliciously up the stairs as if part of his plan to capture her.

'I see you've got some rustic bread in the bin,' Stefan said when she came down, a tea towel over his arm. 'Cut three or four slices of it, would you?'

She went over to the bread board and picked up the breadknife. It glinted in the little LED lights under the kitchen cupboards. He turned and watched her as she held the knife. 'My throat is over here if that is what you are looking for,' he said, humour in his eyes.

She swung the large knife towards the loaf of bread on the board and cut off a couple of slices. 'I don't think prime throat goes with salmon,' she replied.

He grinned and they served up the meal and ate it in the dining room with barely a word being exchanged between them. Although Stefan wasn't exactly silent, he avoided the topics that they had been talking about. He seemed preoccupied.

'Well, what did you think?' he said when they had finally finished.

She shrugged. 'Preparing Niçoise isn't exactly cooking,' she said. 'It's a cold meal!' But she had enjoyed it and Stefan definitely had a way with the salad dressing.

'It's a bit like revenge; that's a cold meal,' he observed. 'Isn't that what they say?'

She shrugged again. 'Maybe.'

'Now the big question is, who's going to stack the dishwasher?' he said pointedly.

'There you go again, telling me what to do,' she replied staring back at him across the table.

'I was just asking,' he said. 'But considering I cooked, I think it would only be fair if...'

She suddenly stood up. 'Okay, say no more. But don't expect me to do it every time!'

He nodded and pushed himself away from the table. 'Of course not. Just be a good girl and fix me a hot chocolate, while you're at it!'

' _What?'_

'Just kidding!' he said with a smirk.

Geraldine's mind was all over the place as she stacked the dishwasher. Fortunately, there was nil to scrape off the plates. And the truth was that she had enjoyed the meal, but more the fact that he had prepared it. It occurred to her that she was being a bit hard on him.

Looking back, she had to admit to herself that some of her previous male friends hadn't lasted very long. But then, she was a bit brusque by nature and it might have put them off. But losing Johnny Leonard had had the greatest impact on her. In fact, in some ways Stefan reminded her of Johnny; it was the sense of humour, something they had in common.

She quickly finished the chore and put the washer on to do its own thing and then she dutifully made two cocoas anyway. Funnily enough, it was something that Johnny Leonard also enjoyed. By the time the drinks were ready, Geraldine was in a better frame of mind. But when she took the beverages into the lounge, Stefan wasn't there. He had gone into the 'book room' as she called it. It was a place her father used to hibernate in when he was alive. It had a couple of leather chairs and a desk, but it was overflowing with books, some on the floor, some sitting in the fireplace. It all needed re-organising.

Stefan, who was sitting in one of the armchairs, looked up and smiled and simply said, 'Ahh!'

She gave him his drink and sat down opposite him with hers. 'I'm quite bushed,' she said.

'So am I,' he replied. 'My old brain has been going twenty to the dozen over that new restaurant I'm opening in Paris.'

She took a deep breath. 'Probably Paris is where you ought to be now.'

' _We_ ought to be,' he corrected.

'Well, I don't know a thing about running a restaurant, but it sounds complicated,' she said conversationally.

'That's what you hire managers to sort out for you,' he said. 'But my one has been having personal problems. He was transferred from another location.'

She nodded. 'Oh dear.' She glanced at him for a moment. 'Well, I think I'll go to bed now.'

He appeared disappointed. 'I'll be up shortly,' he said.

These words stopped her in her tracks. Should she go into her mother's bed tonight to press home the point? 'I might sleep in my mother's bed tonight,' she said.

He looked up at her. 'Why is that? If you're worried that I will disturb you, don't be. I'm not going to wake you.'

'Erm, no, it's just sometimes my bedroom gets stuffy,' she answered. 'And tonight it's warm.'

He placed his hand lingeringly on her waist. 'Well, if you're going into your mother's bed, then you won't mind if I sleep in yours then?'

She hadn't thought of that. But he had to sleep somewhere. There was of course another bedroom in the house, which was supposed to be used by guests. But the bed had not been made up. She should have organised it. However, she was assuming that he would bed down on one of the couches.

'Is that okay then?' he said. 'To sleep in your room?'

'Yes,' she said hesitantly. But she really needed to come up with a solution. He could hardly expect her to sleep with him knowing she wanted a divorce.

Suddenly he stood up and kissed her on the cheek.

She smiled awkwardly. 'Well, goodnight!'

'Yeah,' he said.

She walked swiftly away, taking her mug of half-finished cocoa with her, and went upstairs to her bedroom and shut the door. She was in two minds whether to lock it or not, but that really would have thrown down the gauntlet.

Going into the ensuite, her sanctuary of sorts, she had a quick wash and brushed her teeth. It was almost as if she was preparing for his arrival in her bedroom, but she had painted herself into a corner. She was now obliged to go into her mother's room, as she had said she would. There was another WC in the hall that she could use if need be.

She put on her nighty and grabbed a few things, including her tablets and crossed the hall to her mother's suite. And it was a suite in every sense with a high ceiling and chandelier, unlike her more cosy bedroom. Tonight, Stefan would have the pleasure of it, she thought pulling a face.

She climbed into her mother's old bed and switched off the bedside lamp, wondering whether she should lock the door in case Stefan had any ideas. In the dark, she quickly swallowed a couple of her tablets dry, as she had left her cup of cold cocoa in her bedroom, and then gagged on them. She really needed to go and get a glass of water.

With an annoyed sigh, she got out of bed and crossed to the other bathroom in the hall, when she saw Stefan. He was hovering, partly undressed in her bedroom, the door wide open. He had been quick! He glanced up at her, but his face was impassive.

'You wouldn't be a very good spy,' he called.

'Who's spying?' she countered as she went into the bathroom in the hallway. There was a glass in the cupboard over the sink, which she rinsed under the tap and then filled with water. As she came out of the bathroom with it, she noted that her own bedroom door was closed and assumed Stefan had gone to bed. Quickly going into her mother's room, she was shocked to find Stefan standing by the window in a vest and boxer shorts. He had his arms folded.

'I thought you were going to give those up!' he said referring to the container of medicines next to her bed.

Geraldine sat down on the bed. _'Stefan, I didn't agree to any such thing. Now, will you kindly please leave and let me go to sleep. It's not as if you don't have anywhere to sleep yourself!'_

He stared at her. 'Easy mare! I'll be going in a minute.' He came over to the bed, sat next to her and put his arm gently around her waist.

'Stefan, I want to go to sleep now,' she said moving slightly away.

'You certainly are the flighty one, aren't you,' he said. 'The slightest touch has you running for the hills.'

'I'm just tired and I thought you understood the situation,' she replied. 'We are not meant to be together. Isn't that clear? If you don't file for a divorce _I will!'_

He stood up and went to the window again. 'Don't ask for what you don't want.'

'What do you mean?'

'You would stand to lose more than me. Everything in fact,' he said with a frown. 'Now that would be a bit of a drawback, wouldn't it?'

She blinked. What was he talking about? 'You're not making sense.'

'If you forced me to divorce you, I wouldn't be too pleased, especially after being treated the way I have.'

She shrugged. Did he mean because she hadn't allowed the marriage to be consummated? 'Is that all you can think about, sex?' she said.

He looked at her surprised by her language. 'Sex? Who's talking about sex. I'm talking about being used for your own purposes to get an advantage over your solicitor!'

She fell speechless at these words. He certainly had a point there, but he couldn't prove it. 'I'm not after your money,' she said.

'But that statement doesn't make sense,' he said. 'If we divorced you would be entitled to a settlement. And I am assuming you were counting on that to pay off your mortgage and secure this blessed house.'

'Well, to be honest, that did come into my mind,' she said candidly. 'But I was thinking, to be fair, that you could use this house and its facilities for a limited time, help pay the bills and then we could part as friends.'

'Use his house as a sort of office, as you suggested before?' he queried.

'Yes. It could save you thousands in commercial rent,' she said.

'Hark at you!' he said derisively. ' _Commercial rent!'_

' _What is so funny about that?'_ she asked with a stern look.

'For one, as lovely as this house and surroundings are, it is miles from anywhere,' he said. 'It wouldn't be practical for me to have an office down here. I'm a Paris, London, New York man. And for two, I still have plans for you!'

An expression of fright passed over her face. 'Plans?' He was talking about sex again.

'I chose you. You didn't choose me,' he said. 'I want you to be my wife and to act like a wife and satisfy my needs in the way I would want to satisfy yours.'

She shook her head. 'It wouldn't work.'

'Why wouldn't it?' he demanded. 'Because you still want to be Mrs Johnny Leonard? Well you can't be. You're now Mrs Lafonte. But if you really pushed me, _I would divorce you.'_

She looked up at this ray of hope. 'You would?'

'Yes, but I would make damn sure that your solicitor knew that the normal contract of marriage wasn't honoured or upheld. I would also sue you for using deception to gain a financial advantage which would counter any right you might have to a settlement. You would have a court battle on your hands, and I don't usually lose them!'

She took this in. 'You're bluffing. It wouldn't be worth your time.'

'Try me,' he said. _'I don't take being made to look a fool, lightly!'_

Chapter Five

Stefan's words were still echoing in her head when she awoke the next morning. But what he said just sounded like a bluff, using semi-legal gobbledegook to spook her. And accusing her of deception was a matter of opinion, after all, he had pursued her, not the other way around. However, it was quite plain what his position was and that he wasn't planning to divorce her any time soon. But sue her, he still might.

Perhaps under the circumstances the marriage could be annulled without going through a divorce. But then that would mean there would be no settlement for her. The trick, she realised, would be to allay his suspicions, keep him sweet and put up with him for a while longer. Then gradually they might lose interest in each other and then have an amicable divorce. But how long would that take, she wondered.

She clambered out of bed and found that half of her bed covers were on the floor. She must have been tossing and turning. Gathering them up, she dumped them on the bed and then went to use the hallway bathroom. Unfortunately, this old bathroom did not have a shower. So she washed quickly and dressed and vowed to have a shower in her own ensuite later on.

As she emerged, she could smell the arresting aroma of turkey-bacon wafting up the stairs. She instantly knew that she could easily demolish a couple of slices.

Stefan was nursing an egg in the frying pan. He grinned widely, despite his harsh words of the previous evening. 'You look wonderful!' he said with apparent sincerity.

She was startled by his comment. 'Oh, thank you.'

'I timed the breakfast,' he said. 'Under those two plates is yours. Get stuck in before it gets cold! And that coffee is yours!' The two plates he referred to were sitting on a pot of boiling water designed to keep the breakfast edible and warm. 'Take a seat, I'll bring it over.'

'Thank you,' she said sitting down at the kitchen table and taking her coffee, which she gave a sip.

'Don't you get any milk delivered here?' he asked.

'No, I normally like to walk down to the little corner shop to get it,' she said. But the truth was, she had run up a big bill with the milkman. In fact, she hadn't paid him for three months.

'Lucky you've got some powdered,' he said.

She half smiled. The tin of Marvel was well passed its sell-by-date. 'Yes.'

Stefan brought over her breakfast, holding the plate with a tea towel. 'I have to go to a meeting in Dover.'

'Oh,' she replied wondering if it had anything to do with their previous conversation. 'Got solicitors down there, have we?'

He frowned. 'My procureur, notaire and avocat are all in Paris. Why?'

'No reason,' she stuttered.

'Oh, I see,' he said as the penny dropped. 'No, I'm not planning to sue you yet, if that's what you mean!'

She picked up her cutlery and began to eat.

'Oh, would you like some vinegar?' he asked going to the cupboard and producing a bottle which he set on the table with a clunk.

'Thanks,' she nodded, giving her eggs and turkey-bacon a little sprinkle and then dampening the toast under the eggs. 'So, why are you going to Dover then?'

'That's where our manager lives, for the new restaurant in Paris that we're opening,' he explained. 'But I have a revised employment package for him. Why should he have to cross the channel just to go to work when I can set him up in a flat in Paris?'

'Does sound a bit awkward,' she replied. 'Couldn't you find a manager already in Paris?'

Stefan smiled. 'This guy is gifted. All the outlets that he's managed in the past tripled their takings when he was in charge! And I want the outlet in France to spearhead our European expansion.'

She nodded, but her mood was sombre. Stefan may be full of beans and ambitions, but she was still lumbered with a problem.

'Well, got to dash,' he said stuffing the egg from the frying pan into a sandwich which he opened and splashed with brown sauce. Then he was gone, eating the sandwich as he went, leaving her at the table. She listened for the sound of his car starting up and waited as it drove off at top speed out of ear range.

Finishing her breakfast quickly, she stacked the dishwasher and then made another coffee. It occurred to her that he seemed keen to get away. Perhaps that was a good sign. It might mean he was already tiring of her ways and that he was eager to get back to his cut-and-thrust life. If she played her cards right, he might just do the deed and divorce her without carrying out any of his threats. All she had to be was a boring, uncooperative nag, she thought! Now what could be easier than that?

Geraldine spent the rest of the day thinking about Stefan and what he really intended to do, and whether there was any substance to what he had said. Could he really sue her? Surely it would just be his word against hers? The postman disturbed her thoughts when he delivered some letters and leaflets. She immediately saw that there was a letter from her solicitor, and with some trepidation opened it. She was surprised to find that her solicitor had found out that she had got married and was extending his congratulations. He was also requesting an urgent appointment. She threw the letter down and went upstairs to make the beds.

But by nine o'clock that night, Stefan still hadn't returned home or phoned her. She glanced out of the window and noted how clear the sky was. It was a perfect evening; an evening designed for newlywed couples who were in love. She made herself a ham sandwich, went into the lounge and put on the tv. She tried to lose herself in a popular soap without success. The thought was beginning to take hold in her mind that Stefan might not be coming back this evening. Perhaps she had succeeded in getting rid of him for a while without realising it.

But her wishful thinking was shattered when the sound of his car suddenly filled the air. It roared to a halt on the driveway. He was back.

****

Going to the Kitchen window, she was bemused to see that Stefan had stopped to stroke the neighbourhood cat sitting on the wall. This was a side that Geraldine had never imagined Stefan would have. She had never seen Johnny Leonard pay any heed to the cat, which was always in and out of the garden. In fact, thinking about it, she had a feeling that Johnny hadn't been overly keen on pets in general. She had once mooted to him that she rather fancied getting a dog, but he didn't encourage the idea. The cat, a funny but elderly black and white thing called Henry, seemed to have taken a shine to Stefan, who was responding in kind.

Geraldine automatically got the percolator going and then turned around to see that Stefan had come in through the garden. She hadn't yet given him a key to the front door. What amazed her was that he was carrying a computer desktop. 'Where can I plonk this?' he asked going passed her into her father's old book room. He was obviously planning to stay awhile. 'Got some more stuff in the car,' he called.

'Planning on setting up your office here?' she said wandering through to where he was.

'Well, you did say!' he said giving her a quizzical look.

It was true she did, but they hadn't fully discussed the details and she resented his assumption that he could just go ahead anyway. 'I know I did, but I thought we could talk about it first!' she replied her hands on her hips.

' _Look, there you go giving me mixed messages again!'_ he said. 'Can I stay and use this office or not? Or do you intend to be awkward about this too?' He seemed angry with her.

She bit her bottom lip not wanting to tempt another threat from him. She really needed to find out what her rights were in this situation. 'Would you like some coffee?' she asked sidestepping his challenge.

He suddenly smiled. 'Lovely, and I could certainly use something else!'

She paused. What did he mean? 'Something else?'

' _Food of course!'_ he said. I've been running on coffee and ethanol all day!'

'Ah, right,' she replied. She hadn't even thought to cook anything, so certain was she that he wasn't coming back.

'So what have you got to cook?' he said. 'It's passed nine and I can't smell anything? Is mine in the oven?'

She frowned. Already he was making demands and having expectations. 'I didn't think you were coming back,' she said.

'That's a bad excuse,' he said. 'Didn't you even make anything for yourself?'

'No, I haven't had time to do a shop,' she said. 'On my own I usually just live on tea and toast with a bit of Marmite on it.'

'Really? Well, the last time I looked, there were a few bits and pieces in the fridge, mainly eggs and bacon,' he said. 'But a man cannot live on eggs and bacon alone.'

'It's turkey-bacon actually,' she corrected him. 'But I've got some tins of soup in the cupboard and some pasta, maybe some puree...'

'That probably accounts for why you look so slim,' he said. 'You don't eat anything!'

'I do when I'm hungry,' she answered. 'Also, I like to watch the pennies.'

This remark stopped him in his tracks. 'So you save on expenditures by not eating very much? But you had some decent salmon in the other day.'

'That was what Franny gave to me nearly two weeks ago,' she answered with a grimace.

Stefan's eyes bulged. 'Two weeks ago?'

She shrugged. It wasn't her duty to explain herself to him. 'It didn't taste bad though, did it!'

Stefan sighed. 'Do you have any income at all?'

She shrugged. More nosy questions. 'I get by.' She didn't want to mention the fifteen thousand pounds she had found in the attic.

'Get by on food handouts from Franny?' he asked.

'Look, don't worry about it,' she said.

'As your husband I am expected to look after your needs, even if you don't look after mine! But tell me please, do you have any income to speak of? Like benefits?'

'No!' she replied insulted by the question. 'Benefits! Give me a break!'

Stefan gave her a sideways glance. 'There's nothing wrong with claiming what is your entitlement.'

'I have some savings from when I worked in London,' she said lying. The only jobs she ever held were part time local ones. Her parents had basically supported her.

'But how long were you reckoning on your savings lasting?' he asked. 'It seems to me you are counting on me for support. Plus, from what I can see, this house badly needs an overhaul. Were you going to get a loan from a loan shark?'

'If push came to shove, I was going to ask Franny's husband for a loan,' she said, lying again.

Stefan smirked. 'I bet they love you!'

'What does that mean?' she demanded getting fed up with his interrogation. She felt like slapping his smug face.

'I mean, who needs a needy neighbour!' he said cruelly.

Geraldine clenched her fists. _'Probably the same as I need a person like you hanging around me!'_

Stefan nodded. 'Match point to you! I'll let you have that one for nothing! Now let's get serious and sort out some supper. What are we going to eat?'

She took a deep breath. 'How do you do that? Switch from one emotion to another?'

He shrugged. 'It's called not taking life too seriously. In ten years' time you won't even remember this conversation!'

She shook her head. 'Hmm. Well, _you_ may not take life seriously because you can afford not to. But let's not go there. Regarding supper, as I said, there is some pasta and puree in the cupboard. So maybe we can cut the turkey-bacon into little pieces and make a feast of it!'

'We?' he said with a frown. 'I'm not cutting anything. That's _your_ job. I've just been slogging my guts out all day today.'

'Okay bossy!' she retorted. 'It's a wonder with all your money that you don't have any servants.'

'I do, in my Parisian apartment, which is on three floors.'

' _Bully for you!'_ she replied her hackles rising again. But she tried to keep cool. 'Okay, I'll sort out the supper then.'

'Good, and we'll have it watching tv,' he suggested.

'The sauce might drop on the carpet,' she replied. 'I'd prefer if we had it in the dining room.'

He sighed. _'Alright, don't get your jewellery in a twist!'_

****

They ate her hastily prepared pasta in relative silence. Stefan made little stabs at conversation, but her replies were cold and monosyllabic. Frankly, she felt like strangling him. It was just the way he would insolently look at her from time to time. And then when he did speak, it felt as if he was having a dig at her and her way of life.

But it was when she decided to bring the evening to a close and go to bed that disaster struck. She went into her own ensuite to have a shower. As she adjusted the setting on the unit, the shower head suddenly came away from the ceiling. Cold water deluged the stall and poured out violently all over the place. Standing naked, she quickly tried to switch off the unit, but that didn't stop the violent flow of water. The floor was flooded in no time, and then gradually the water subsided. Shivering, she grabbed a tower and dried herself and put on her nighty. In the mirror she looked like a drowned rat.

However, the main problem was that she knew the water would come through the lounge ceiling. It had happened once before. The event would only serve to justify Stefan's remarks about the house. She put on a dressing gown and went downstairs to see if the leaking had begun. She found Stefan standing with his hands on his hips looking up at the damp patch which was forming on the ceiling.

'What the hell!' he exclaimed.

'Accident in the ensuite,' she said. 'The shower head has come away. I'll have to get a mop and mop it up.'

'It's a sign,' he said.

'A sign of what?' she asked as she went to get her bucket and squeegee mop.

'A sign that this place needs a good renovation before it collapses!' he said.

Without replying she went upstairs with the mop and did her best to dry the floor. But she knew that it wouldn't make much difference to the ceiling downstairs. As she turned around, she was surprised to see him standing behind her. He then came into the ensuite and examined the fixture in the ceiling of the shower stall.

'It seems to have been cemented in,' he said with a frown. 'Frankly, you'll need a whole new shower unit.'

His judgement made her sigh. But she didn't want to bother making reply. To replace the shower unit wouldn't be cheap. She poured the bucket of water down the sink and then retired to her mother's bedroom. It would just be inconvenient not to be able to have a shower for a while. The other thing was that he would probably use this as an excuse to hang onto her apron strings for a bit longer.

She retired to bed and slept fitfully and awoke a little later than usual to an annoying sound which appeared to be coming from her ensuite, or was it her bedroom? It was a scraping noise which she couldn't identify. She threw on her dressing gown and went to investigate and found Stefan stripped down to the waist in the ensuite holding a trowel.

He had miraculously re-cemented the showerhead back into place and was finishing up. He had obviously found the tools for the job in the shed. There was also a bag of quick drying cement which he was using. He looked around at her and smiled.

'Been up all night,' he said. 'The cement is quick drying and I've created a metal lip to hold the showerhead in position. But I had to make a new watertight connection between the old broken supply pipes. Took ages! Give it until tonight to dry completely and it will be good to go!'

She looked down at the little grey cement patches which had dropped all over the floor. 'God!' she said.

'You'll have to re-mop the floor, I'm afraid,' he said going to wash his hands. His head and arms were also splattered with cement.

She looked at him and then said,' Thank you Stefan. It's much appreciated.'

'No problemo!' he replied. 'But you should see the ceiling downstairs. It's a complete mess!'

Geraldine went downstairs and saw, that not only was the lounge ceiling soaking, but water had gone down the wall behind the bar.

Stefan followed her down. 'Let see if it will just dry out on its own. We'll keep the central heating on.'

Geraldine grimaced. This sounded expensive to someone who practically had it off most of the time. 'I suppose we could for a while.'

He looked at her. 'I also noticed that the guttering has come away at the back of the house.'

'Really?' she said with a frown.

'Yes sorry to have to break it to you, but if you don't get the guttering done, the rain will soak the walls and you'll have bad moisture penetration. In fact, you already have it.'

She stood awkwardly in the lounge trying to think of some intelligent response. Her father always used to say that a house will never fall down. But there had been a few cases in India recently where a number of multi-story buildings had collapsed. Surely this didn't happen in England where all those building regulations were in force?

Stefan was staring at her tiredly. She pulled her dressing gown around her which had slightly fallen open. It seemed that despite being up all night, he didn't miss a trick. 'I love the way you look first thing in the morning,' he said. 'No lipstick or makeup, just natural.'

This made her pull her dressing gown even tighter. 'Oh, er, thanks.'

He smiled. 'Well at least I've got the shower functioning again, for a while.'

She nodded and half turned. 'You could probably use a nap!'

'I will later,' he said. 'What say you we go out for some breakfast? Because I don't think I could stand another slice of turkey-bacon! We'll then do a food shop and discuss what to do about the house, repairwise!'

She nodded. Almost against her will she was beginning to automatically agree to whatever he said. This was not a good habit to get into, she told herself. 'Okay, I'll get dressed and you need to wash off all those cement patches on your shoulders.'

'I'll have a quick wash,' he said. 'Then we'll go onto town!'

****

They breakfasted in the new American-style diner which had recently opened in town and then, on Stefan's insistence, popped into the local mega store. Stefan grabbed a trolley and started filling it with large amounts of stuff. He was obviously used to spending money and did not seem concerned with the price of anything. Geraldine on the other hand lived very frugally, a habit learnt from her parents. But the more Stefan filled up the trolley, the more nervous she felt. He wasn't expecting her to pay for it, was he?

The mega store catered for every basic need, and before long the trolley was bursting with good things; oven-ready joints of meat, salami, wines and spirits, European bread and cheeses. He must have thought he was in France, she mused to herself. She could only deduce from this that he was planning to stay for a while.

When they arrived at the checkout, she was relieved when he produced his debit card and paid without a murmur. She smiled weakly, feeling that she would probably have to contribute to the cost later in another way. Perhaps this was why Stefan kept grinning, he knew that he had her in a corner.

They packed the car and then Stefan drove around the shopping park. He stopped in front of a large electrical store. 'Let's update your blessed little tv,' he said. 'I mean it's colour yes, but wouldn't you like to have a fifty-inch high-definition one?'

She gasped. 'Where would we put it?'

'We'll find a place!' he said cheerfully.

'Well,' she said lost for words. She had always wanted a bigger tv, but what did he expect in return? The answer to that was obvious, but she was determined not to be compromised for the sake of a few household conveniences. She would still stick to her guns. Although, it was looking increasingly that divorce was slowly being pushed into the background.

'They also told me in the village that with the approach of winter, we need to be stocked up and ready,' he said.

'We can get snowed in yes,' she replied. 'But then we have volunteers clearing the local lanes. That's still a way off though.'

They drove back to Larkford in silence, Geraldine's mind full of misgivings. She was allowing this man to slowly take over her life. But that was never part of her plan. She didn't feel they had much in common and he was just trying his luck. There was no doubt that she had secured Larkford and that it wouldn't end up in a Trust. But the situation had come with some unwanted baggage.

The question was, when was the right moment to seriously tell Stefan to take a hike? She needed to look more into the details surrounding her solicitor's proposition to see when she could wriggle free of it. Surely the marriage certificate was enough? And she had been savvy enough not to sign anything her solicitor had put under her nose. She had also ignored her solicitor's last two letters, but she had to tread carefully. She needed to be sure of her ground before she could actively seek a divorce herself. Perhaps she could get some independent advice from the CAB, the Citizens Advice Bureau? Her thoughts were interrupted by the sight of Dr Carson's car parked carelessly near her drive entrance.

'Looks like you've got visitors,' Stefan said.

'Yes, Dr Carson; he must be around the back,' Geraldine replied.

'You'd better entertain him while I'll unpack,' Stefan said.

Dr Carson had evidently heard their car arrive and he came out from their garden to greet them. 'Geraldine, hi!' he said pleasantly. 'Just been knocking on your kitchen door!'

'Oh, Dr Carson, hi,' she said unlocking the front door. Stefan was behind her holding three shopping bags.

'Dr Carson, I'm Stefan,' Stefan said. 'We almost met at Franny's party.'

'Ah, right,' the doctor said. 'Here, let me help you in with those.'

'Cheers!' Stefan passed him two bags and went to get some more from the car boot. Geraldine awkwardly led the way into the kitchen and relieved the doctor of his burden. 'Thank you, doctor, very kind.' But she was trusting that the doctor wouldn't stay for too long.

Stefan brought in the rest of the bags from the car. The tv was going to be delivered in a few days. 'Don't worry about the shopping,' he said. 'I'll put everything away!'

'Well, Geraldine, how are you feeling?' Dr Carson asked as they went into the lounge to leave Stefan to sort out the shopping in the kitchen.

'Not bad,' Geraldine said showing him into a chair. She sat down opposite.

There was a slight tension in the air as Dr Carson sat looking at her in a speculative way. He suddenly smiled. 'Good.'

'Doing your rounds, then?' she said, her mind completely empty of anything to say to the man.

'I'm obliged to,' the doctor replied.

Stefan walked in at that point. 'Can we make you a coffee?'

The doctor shook his head. 'No, thanks, I won't be stopping long.'

'Are you based in Rodean then?' Stefan enquired.

'My professional round extends over a roughly twenty-mile radius,' Dr Carson said. 'However, I just thought I would pop by to see how Geraldine is doing on the medication.'

Geraldine nodded, not really wanting to discuss the issue in front of Stefan. 'Yes, I've been fine on them, thank you.'

'If you have any issues you can always phone up the surgery or even come in,' the doctor said.

Geraldine nodded automatically, aware of Stefan standing nearby. She wished he would just go away and get on with the packing in the kitchen.

'To be honest _, I have some issues with the medication_ ,' Stefan finally said.

Dr Carson, a polite man could clearly sense Stefan's antagonism. Dr Carson nodded. 'Ah, well, with all due respects, this really is a matter for the patient.'

' _But I do have some questions,'_ Stefan said. 'What are they for?'

'The tablets?' the doctor responded. 'They are just some routine medicines that might be beneficial for Geraldine to take. But it is really not for me to discuss Geraldine's case with you and breach patient doctor confidentiality.'

' _Even if the patient is my wife!'_ Stefan said firmly.

The doctor frowned at these words and seemed disorientated. 'Sorry, I'm not with you. Wife? Are you talking about another patient now?'

Stefan smirked and folded his arms as he leaned against the door frame. _'No, I'm talking about Geraldine of course!_ Who else would I be talking about!'

Dr Carson gave Geraldine an astonished look. ' _You're married now?'_

' _What is that to you?_ ' Stefan challenged _._

Dr Carson was momentarily speechless. 'This is recent, is it?'

'Yes, very recent,' Stefan replied, doing the talking for Geraldine.

The doctor stared at Geraldine waiting for her to say something.

She wanted to respond but the expression on the doctor's face stopped her. 'Yes, we were married less than a week ago.'

The doctor shook his head. 'I see. Well, I'm surprised. No one saw this coming.'

'It isn't your job to be surprised,' Stefan said rudely. 'And what's it to do with anyone else anyway?'

'Mr, er, Stefan, pardon me, but I haven't come here to cause an argument!' Carson said. 'But I do wonder if this is anything to do with your depression Geraldine? I mean, this hasn't been a knee jerk reaction to your mother's death has it?'

' _That's a bit insulting, doctor,_ ' Stefan said his face darkening.

'It _has_ been known,' the doctor said. 'Franny also told me that you, Geraldine, were having financial troubles.'

Geraldine shrugged. 'It really wasn't for her to say.'

'What are you trying to imply doctor?' Stefan said coming into the room. _'That she's only married me for my money?'_

The doctor rubbed his forehead. 'As your physician, Geraldine, I have to point out that bereavement can do strange things to a person's outlook.'

'Perhaps,' she said. 'What did Franny say then?'

'She also said that you are behind with your mortgage payments,' Dr Carson replied. 'And that it would be useful if you got hitched to cover the costs, or you might lose your house.'

' _She's got a big mouth then, hasn't she!'_ Geraldine said her anger rising. 'My financial affairs are nothing to do with her.'

'My wife is absolutely right, doctor,' Stefan chipped in. 'So, I would suggest that you only focus on my wife's health and not go poking your nose where it has _no business to be_.'

Carson held up his hands. 'You misunderstand me. Medicine is now a holistic science. We can't just conveniently concentrate on one or two areas. We have to factor everything else in.'

'Well factor this in then,' Stefan said defiantly. 'I don't approve of the tablets you're giving my wife and I'm going to find her another doctor to get a second opinion. So, I would be grateful if you removed her from your patient database. _You are hereby sacked!'_

Geraldine cringed at his words. She wanted to say something less extreme, as she liked Dr Carson, but she was unable to find the right words. She was also torn by a sense of loyalty to Stefan but also wanting to defend her right to choose the doctor she preferred. 'Stefan...' she managed to say.

' _Darling, it is only for the best,_ ' Stefan said firmly.

The doctor suddenly laughed. 'That's a bit high-handed of you! This is really a matter for Geraldine, _not you!_ '

Geraldine felt cornered. 'Well...'

Dr Carson was becoming impatient. 'If you want me to remove you from my register, I have no problem with that!'

Geraldine shrugged; she was deeply resenting that Stefan had put her on the spot. 'Perhaps for the moment.'

The doctor stared at her. 'For the moment?'

Geraldine nodded. She could always come back to the surgery when she had got rid of Stefan. To the best of her knowledge the doctor was a first-class physician and much respected locally. It was doubtful that Stefan could produce anyone better.

'Very well,' Dr Carson said getting to his feet. 'But just know that the door is always open to you. Even once I have removed you from the register, I will always be available for emergency callouts.'

Stefan snorted. 'That would be very unprofessional of you as she will be with another surgery. I would ask that you do not involve yourself with us anymore!'

The doctor got up and went to the front door. 'I'll show myself out.'

Stefan gave Geraldine a self-satisfied grin and whispered. 'Job well done!'

Once the doctor had gone, Geraldine rounded on Stefan angrily _. 'I can't believe you did that!'_ she shouted.

Stefan shrugged. 'He'll get over it!'

'You can't just trash a relationship like that!' she said. _'He's been the family doctor for years and I know for a fact that he has my best interests at heart!'_

' _Your interests?_ ' Stefan said. _'He's just a country doctor who's got the hots for you!'_

' _What!'_

'As your husband I am now taking charge of your welfare and we can't have an amorous character like Carson coming to our house.'

' _Are you mad?'_ she said heatedly. 'He has never once ever remotely shown any inclinations whatsoever of what you're implying.'

Stefan laughed. 'Goodness, that's a bit of a mouthful, darling!'

Geraldine was so beside herself that she stood up and began pacing the room. _'I can't have you interfering in my life like this!'_

'I deduce from your reaction that you might like your doctor _a little too much!_ ' Stefan said twisting the knife. 'And I will complain to the Medical Council if he ever sets foot here again.'

Geraldine stared at him hatefully. _'It's all gone to your head, I swear it! I don't deny that I like him, but not in that way!'_

'Even if you don't, the man's body language is very revealing,' Stefan said seriously. 'I'd say, and I'm being perfectly honest with you, _that he is infatuated with you.'_

She shook her head. 'Rubbish!'

'And I would go further and say that the man has designs on you!'

'No, absolutely not; you are just going over the top now, Stefan,' she said.

Stefan took a deep breath and sat down in the lounge. 'I am not the successful businessman I am today because I am stupid. It is because I know how to read the signs. I believe your mother may have been a factor here.'

Geraldine shot him a look. He was now entering territory which was beginning to spook her. What is it that he could see so clearly that she could not? _'What do you mean, my mother may have been a factor?'_

'Dr Carson was caring for your mother during the last days of her life, wasn't he?' Stefan said with a thoughtful expression on his face. 'And I wouldn't be surprised if she hadn't wrung a promise from him. From what I saw in your correspondence, her life policy had collapsed, and she knew she was going to die with no safety net for you! She also knew that Dr Carson was a bachelor and he seemed like the logical choice of person to look after you when she was gone. _Marry you even!_ '

It was Geraldine's turn to snort. _'What are you talking about?'_

'Parents do things like that,' Stefan said. 'I am not condemning her in any way. She knew you were hurting from the failure of your engagement to Johnny Leonard. And status-wise you are on the doctor's social level.'

'Well, Stefan, my mother had never ever suggested the doctor to me as a potential partner,' Geraldine replied. 'She was too ill to think about things like that.'

'Don't be fooled,' Stefan said. 'A loving mother's eye is very beady, always looking out for their offspring. I would have done the same in her place. But don't you think that it's funny that he is going out of his way to see you? Normally doctors only come out in an emergency. The convention is, if you want to see a doctor, you have to go to his surgery. Carson is breaking the rules to see you. He wanted to marry you, it's obvious!'

Geraldine took two deep inbreaths and fluttered her eyelids. It was plausible that Dr Carson did like her, and he was very attentive when he came by. 'But you're making it sound like a conspiracy between my mother and Dr Carson.'

'Only a well-meaning one,' Stefan said. 'I'm sure the doctor would have agreed to anything that your mother would have said or asked for. Perhaps this was one favour he would have been only too happy to fulfil.'

'You have absolutely no grounds for this fantasy that you're weaving!' Geraldine said. 'I'm telling you; my mother didn't think like that. She believed in fate and that I would find the right man when the time was ripe. She had her own problems and pre-occupations to contend with.'

Stefan shrugged. 'Perhaps I'm reading the situation wrongly. But Carson does seem keen, very keen, and I'd bet a pound to a penny he was put up to it by your mother.'

'Stefan, I do not appreciate you speaking about my mother so disrespectfully,' Geraldine said brushing hair out of her eyes. 'You're making her sound like one of those women who sell their daughters for a bag of rice! Anyhow, even if Carson had proposed, I would have said no. He's not my type!'

'What is your type then?' Stefan enquired. 'Macho air force guys?'

'I'll know it when I see it,' she answered.

'So does that mean that I might fit the bill?' he asked.

Geraldine stared at him. It appeared that he genuinely wanted to know what she thought of him. 'I don't honestly know if you do or not. All I know is that I would be quite happy if we divorced. You're still a stranger to me in many ways. I know very little about you! I don't feel any particular attachment to you.'

'That's fair enough,' Stefan replied. 'That's why they say that it is better if you can learn to love someone than naturally fall in love with them. Those bonds are stronger than ones based on infatuation.'

'Maybe, but the problem in this case is that I am neither infatuated with you nor wish to spend much time with you,' she said. 'Also, you could walk away and not care but perhaps someone like Dr Carson would have a problem dealing with it. So, I would have an issue being married to him and then finding out we weren't suited.'

Stefan couldn't help but snigger at this. _'Well, he has to deal with it now, doesn't he!_ Never mind, he can always avail himself of his pharmacy. Apparently, a lot of doctors are at the cookie jar.'

Geraldine pulled a face. 'What do you mean?'

'Just what I heard, that a lot of doctors have become addicts to the medication that's on hand to them. But then they are often rushed off their feet and stressed and need that extra artificial energy.'

Geraldine laughed. ' _So now you're calling Dr Carson a drug addict_! Come on, no matter how you try you are not going to turn him into a villain!'

'You can laugh,' Stefan said. 'But I could see that look in his eye. He was looking you all over, quite pointedly I may add. I'm surprised you weren't aware of it.'

'Rubbish!' she replied.

'Well, this is all theoretical I must admit,' Stefan conceded. 'And it doesn't matter anyway because I am now married to you and he won't be coming back.'

'Really?' she said doubtfully. She resented that he thought he now owned her. She was not a man's chattel to be toyed with or kept in a convenient cupboard. When the time came, she would assert herself. 'Anyway, I think you are just full of bluff! Threatening to go to the medical council! How ridiculous!'

Stefan stood up and went over to the minibar and made himself a drink. 'Fancy one?'

She shook her head. 'No, thank you.'

'A lot of doctors let their feelings run away with them and end up being struck off,' he said.

'Perhaps,' she replied. 'But Dr Carson has never been fresh with me or ever said anything inappropriate or tried anything.' And even as she said those words, she suddenly remembered the doctor giving her arm a squeeze at her mother's funeral. But that was innocent enough.

'So, in all the time you've know him he's never ever touched you?' Stefan asked, his eyes drilling into her own.

'Well, only in a professional capacity,' she answered. As she thought about it, she did recall that his interest in her welfare had always been very intense. There was also an incident when he was once treating her mother, made a joke and then grabbed Geraldine around the waist as he laughed. He had held onto her a few seconds longer than he should have. And then there was another time when he had once patted her knee in the kitchen.

'Just in a professional capacity?' Stefan repeated breaking into her thoughts.

'Yes,' she answered. 'He can be a little tactile sometimes, but it's rare.'

' _Tactile!'_ Stefan said his eyes virtually going AWOL. 'I did notice that he was sitting very near to you.'

Geraldine shrugged. 'Was he?'

'Yes very near!' Stefan insisted. 'So perhaps you should have waited for Mr Right instead of settling for me.'

'Stefan, I told you, I would never have gone with him. Your theories are just too much! Also, I haven't settled with anyone. _This is just an arrangement.'_

' _Tell it like it is, why don't you,'_ he said looking slightly hurt. 'But I think you have underestimated my interest in you. To you, it may be just an arrangement, to me it's a permanent accommodation.'

She shook her head. 'That's what you think.'

Stefan checked his watch. 'Oh, time for lunch. I wondered why I was feeling hungry. So, what's on the menu, chef?'

'You talking to me?' she replied. 'Well if you are, a whole lot of nothing. Go make it yourself!' She walked away leaving Stefan to ponder the lunch situation. She hadn't yet tried out the newly repaired shower and decided to give it a go, and so went upstairs. Entering her ensuite, she locked the door, undressed, and tentatively stepped into the stall. Looking up at the showerhead, Geraldine could see that Stefan had done quite a good job, and so it seemed good to go.

She turned on the water and everything proceeded as normal, the shower was as good as new. But after a couple of minutes of enjoying the piping hot water, the showerhead suddenly came away again and landed at her feet with a clunk. The cement had not held. She quickly turned the unit off and stepped out of the shower. The damned showerhead had almost hit her.

There was a knock on the door. 'You're not using the shower yet, are you?' Stefan asked. 'I should have told you not to use it for another twenty-four hours.'

Geraldine clenched her fists. 'The blooming showerhead has come off again!' she replied through the door.

Stefan sighed heavily. 'The cement needs at least two days to set. Never mind, I'll stick some more up!'

Geraldine quickly dried herself got dressed and opened the ensuite door expecting to see Stefan sitting on the bed. But he had obviously gone downstairs again. Sometimes he could just come and go like a shadow.

Stefan called up to her from downstairs. 'Are you coming down for lunch or what? I've done a ploughman's; soup, cheese and some rustic bread!'

She took a sniff and could detect vegetable soup on the airwaves. 'Okay, coming.' She went downstairs and saw that Stefan had laid out quite a magnificent spread. Clearly, he was used to having posh lunches.

He was standing with a tea towel over his arm and a crooked smile on his face. 'Don't let your soup get cold.'

She half smiled and sat down at the kitchen table. He joined her, draping the tea towel on the back of his chair. 'Yes, I should have warned you not to use the shower yet.'

She nodded. 'Sorry about undoing all your good work. Maybe I should just get a new shower stall installed.'

Stefan laughed. 'Is that alliteration or what? _Shower stall installed indeed!'_

She stared at him. 'What would a new stall cost, do you think, with all the plumbing and whatnot?'

Stefan frowned. 'I do know you could probably get one for about fifteen hundred pounds, and that includes the installation. It would only take a morning to do, plus they will take away all your rubbish!'

Geraldine took this in and thought about the money she had found in the attic. It would take care of this problem nicely, but she didn't want Stefan to know that she had it. Perhaps she could get him to pay for it for now.

Stefan was sipping his soup with obvious enjoyment. 'I suppose if you're broke, you could always get a bank loan. I presume you have an account?'

'That,' she replied with a toss of her head. _'Is my business!'_
Chapter Six

She had to give Stefan his due, he was quite good at preparing snacky food, and the soup was quite nice. He had taken a tin of soup from the cupboard and had added some extra ingredients to it. Ingenious. If only a house could be repaired in the same way, she thought. Stefan had spoken of a wall which appeared damp and mouldy. Larkford was turning into a bit of a liability. The showerhead coming out of its fixture was a sign that she might be looking at some big future repair bills.

They ate their meal in relative silence and then Stefan quickly stacked their bowls in the dishwasher. He leaned over the sink to take a look out of the window at the sky. 'There's a lot of weather about today,' he said humorously.

'A bit windy,' she remarked.

'Perfect!' he said. 'Fancy a stroll? I've been dying to go down to that pond!'

'I suppose so,' she said unenthusiastically. 'It's a lake by the way, not a pond. The Gelling.'

'How quaint!' he said. 'Come on, let's get out before we change our minds.'

Before she knew it, she was wrapped up in a scarf and overcoat bracing the squalls of cold air which had suddenly descended on the area. Stefan was just wearing a jacket and tee shirt. He was obviously quite warm blooded. They strolled over the brow of a low hill and found themselves looking down at Gelling Lake which flowed from east to west attracting scores of fishermen along its banks.

'If I were a younger man, I'd get my kit off and jump in!' he declared.

'Well I wouldn't follow you,' she replied. She found the air bracing although it tossed her hair about. But she didn't bother patting it back into place. Clearly, she was starting to get used to Stefan seeing her unkempt.

The exercise was doing her good, and Stefan was walking ahead of her. It brought back memories of being much younger with her parents in the halcyon days of their marriage. They used to go to the lake all the time with a picnic basket, a bottle of pop and a flask of tea. Her father had always been a lot of fun. Her mother seemed to take satisfaction in seeing the two of them kicking a ball around on the bit of green in front of the lake. 'My parents and I used to come here all the time, every other weekend actually,' she said wistfully.

'I suppose that's when you possibly got to know the locals like Franny and Dr Carson etc,' Stefan said as he stood on the bank looking up the river. 'I mean, they lived around here then, did they?'

'Yes and no,' Geraldine said with a grimace. 'This is where I met Johnny Leonard. It's funny because we went to the same school, but he never bothered to talk to me. It was only when I saw him on the street or in some public place like here that we spoke.'

Stefan glanced at her. His expression suggested that he didn't want to be reminded of the man. 'Best not to talk about him,' he said. 'He's a part of your past now.'

' _Now who's doing the alliteration?'_ she said with a smile.

He nodded. 'I think we should make a pact, while we're together, not to talk about people who have hurt us!'

'I agree,' she replied. She glanced up at the sky which was looking a bit menacing. 'Looks like rain!'

Stefan also looked up. 'Let's get back before the sky bursts.'

'I'll get the percolator on!' she said.

'I was hoping you'd say that,' he replied. 'All that salty soup has made me thirsty.'

She smiled and wondered if she could ever forget Johnny Leonard, and whether Stefan could take his place in her mind. If that were possible, should she start looking at Stefan in another light – as a serious contender in her life?

They re-entered Larkford via the garden, and Geraldine took off her coat and patted her windswept hair. Stefan was doing the same thing. 'You doing the coffee then?' he enquired.

'I did say I would,' she replied.

'I was only asking,' he said.

'But your asking sounds like an order!'

Stefan pulled a face. 'Okay, I'll do it then.'

'No, I said _I would do it_ ,' she replied firmly and went over and switched on the percolator. 'After all, _you did the lunch!'_

'And I packed the dishwasher!' he said with a grin.

She shook her head and made the coffee and brought it over to the kitchen table. 'Here!'

He stood staring at the steaming beverage. 'Such bad grace,' he murmured.

'Bad grace!' she replied her face stormy. 'Stefan, I am just not used to someone else making decisions for me. Telling me what to do.'

He picked up his drink. 'Steady on. All I did was ask if you were doing the coffee and you could have said no. But instead you've turned it into another argument!'

'Another argument?' she responded. 'It's the tone of your voice that gets my goat. It seems you are so used to ordering people about at your firm that you think you can do it here.'

'No, I don't think I have the right to order you about,' he replied. 'If you were on my payroll maybe. But we're just communicating. It's what people do in domestic circumstances.'

'Well your tone is very annoying!' she stated.

His face was bewildered and then he put down his drink and took her in his arms. It was awkward because she was still holding her own hot drink. She had to put it on the worktop or spill it as his arms encircled her. 'Geraldine, please.'

Their eyes were very close, and she could feel his body warmth radiate through her. His muscular chest was against hers and his hands pulled her to him irresistibly.

' _Stefan, I'm not in the mood. Stop groping me!'_

'This is hardly groping,' he said smiling. 'Do you have to be so contrary all the time? It's those damn tablets isn't it? Putting you on edge! Sometimes a condition gets worse on those things before it gets better.'

'Okay yes, you've made your point, now will you let me go please!' she said.

'But I want to pamper you,' he said. 'Make you feel wanted. Can't you understand that?'

She took a deep breath. Perhaps he was right about the tablets. She had been feeling cross and argumentative lately, but she had put it down to him. 'Stefan, try not to be so annoying and I might come 'round,' she replied and then regretted saying that.

'Is that a promise?' he asked releasing her from his grip.

Without replying she picked up her coffee. 'Look, I'm going to have a laydown. I'm feeling a bit tired after that walk.'

She quickly went upstairs to her bedroom with her hot drink and decided that as from tonight she was going to claim her room back. Stefan could sleep in her mother's bed tonight, and the sheets would have to be laundered tomorrow. And it was true, she was feeling tired, but it was more weary than anything else, probably brought on by her mixed emotions. In addition, she was not used to having a man around. She couldn't just relax in a nighty in front of the tv; she virtually had to be decent all the time. It was a bore.

However, she did note that Stefan had some useful habits, such as an inclination to do domestic chores. Her father never used to go near the dishwasher, but Stefan didn't seem to mind it at all. He had his good points to be sure. It was just his attitude, his Mr Know-it-all response to things, such as her tablets.

She sat on her bed with her head against the headboard sipping her coffee. Her tablets were in her mother's bedroom where she had spent the previous night. She was tempted to go in and get them and perhaps have one or two to calm her. She was feeling agitated, and Dr Carson said that's what they were for.

Unable to resist the temptation, she went out into the hallway and into her mother's bedroom. The tablets were in the drawer where she had put them. But when she picked up the container it seemed slightly lighter. The container was transparent orange plastic and when she checked its contents, it did appear as if some tablets were missing. Had Stefan sneakily taken some out?

She returned to her bedroom with the container and found that Stefan had slipped into the ensuite. When he came out, she was sitting on the bed again. 'Stefan, have you touched my tablets?'

He had changed into another tee-shirt. Changing his clothing at least twice a day was another good habit. 'Sorry?'

She held up the container of tablets. 'I swear there were more in here yesterday.'

He frowned. 'Hmm.'

'Well?'

'My you do have a suspicious mind!' he said looking down at her.

'That doesn't answer my question,' she stated.

'Okay, yes, I did take some out,' he admitted. 'I swallowed a few to see what effect they would have.'

' _What!'_ her eyes blazed. 'Are you mad?'

'I must be to do it for love,' he replied.

'How many did you take?'

'I only swallowed two,' he said. 'And now I know what you mean.'

'What are you talking about?'

'They definitely relax you,' he said. 'And it convinces me that there are only so many of these you can take before it becomes counterproductive.'

'Stefan, I can't believe you did that,' she said. 'You had no right to tamper with my medication. It should be you I should be complaining about to the medical council!' And as she said these words, she had an idea. She would pretend to throw the tablets away and end the controversy once and for all.

'Listen, if you want to take them and become a junky that's up to you!' he said. 'I'm not going to stop you. But I seriously think you'll lose your mind in time!'

'Rubbish,' she replied. 'In fact, I have already decided to come off them.'

'Really? Okay, prove it then,' he replied watching her carefully. 'Prove to me you've got the willpower and we can deal with any withdrawal symptoms together!'

'Okay,' she said getting off the bed. 'I'm going to flush them down the sink.' She went into the ensuite and took the lid off the container. Then, she quickly poured the tablets into her cardigan pocket and tapped the container on the edge of the sink as she ran the sink tap. Stefan quickly followed her into the little ensuite and appeared to be satisfied that she had got rid of them.

'Wow!' he said. 'That was brave of you. Of course, you could always get some more from the good doctor if you are desperate!'

She glared at him. 'Happy now?'

'I didn't tell you to throw them away,' he countered.

' _But you wanted me to, didn't you?'_ she said. She moved passed him and went back down to the kitchen again.

Stefan followed her. 'Look, I'm only thinking of you. Why do you have to get so uppity every two minutes?'

She rounded on him. 'Stefan, I don't need someone in my face all the time. I know you think you're helping, but I'm old enough to make my own decisions. I don't need some patronising man organising my life or my medication!'

' _Geraldine, did I tell you to throw them away? No!'_ Stefan said firmly.

Geraldine put her hand into her cardigan pocket and felt the tablets. She would have a couple as soon as Stefan wasn't about. In fact, from now on she would take them in secret and go and see Dr Carson to renew her prescription without Stefan knowing. 'Are you hungry,' she asked, changing the subject.

Stefan looked up at the kitchen clock. 'It's too late for lunch and too early for dinner.'

'We bought so much shopping, if we don't eat some of it, it will go off!' she said.

Stefan went over to the fridge and opened the door. 'There are the steaks we could have. They would be good. I need to be grounded; the tablets I took are definitely making me feel lightheaded. I expect you must be feeling that all the time!'

She shot him a look. 'Stefan, please. I feel perfectly fine and yes let's have the steaks. We've got some frozen chips to go with them, and mushrooms.'

'Do you want me to do them?' he asked. 'That's one job I don't mind doing.'

'No, I'll do them,' she replied.'

'Okay then,' he said giving her a frown. 'I need to stretch my legs; all this country life is making me lazy.'

'Don't be more than half an hour,' she said.

'No,' he replied shortly.

She watched him throw on a jacket and leave the house. As soon as he was gone, she took a couple of tablets out of her pocket and swallowed them with some water. Her nerves were beginning to feel strained. Conversations with Stefan were not exactly calming or relaxing.

Geraldine got to work preparing their early dinner and by the time it was ready to be put on the table he came back. He had two shopping bags with him, and so must have gone to the village shop which was about a quarter of a mile away.

'Prezzies to cheer you up!' he said putting the bags on the worktop. 'Got you a novel, some magazines and chockies! Papers for me. The business editions. _My, that smells good!'_

Geraldine was putting warmed up plates on the table. The sizzling steaks in the skillet were ready to be served. 'I did them with some onions.'

'Hmm,' he said hungrily. 'I'll just wash my hands!'

'Shall we eat in the dining room?' she enquired.

'Look, you make the decision, otherwise you'll accuse me of being bossy,' he replied with a grin.

'Now you're going to the other extreme,' she said. 'Okay, we'll eat in the kitchen.'

'Although, the chairs in the dining room are more comfortable,' he observed.

'So, what will it be then?' she said pausing as she held the spatula.

'The dining room then,' he said.

'But I've just put the plates on the kitchen table.'

'Look,' he said holding up a hand. 'Here will be fine!'

'Are you sure?' she couldn't resist saying. The tablets she had taken had kicked in, and her good mood was returning.

'Geraldine, what's got into you?' he said. 'You trying to be funny?' He went over to the kitchen faucet and quickly washed his hands with some washing-up liquid and shook them dry.

'Funny, me? Never,' she replied as she served up their meal. Stefan went to the fridge and brought out a nice chilled red wine.

'I'd rather have some sparkling water,' she said.

Stefan shook his head and went back to the fridge and retrieved the water.

She sat down at the table and observed his actions. It appeared that in a subtle way, he was becoming more compliant. She also realised that she was getting used to him. The threat that he had initially posed seemed to have waned.

He sat down at the table just wearing his tee-shirt and jeans and poured himself a glass of wine. 'Are you sure I can't tempt you?'

'No, the water is fine,' she said pouring out her own glass.

'I haven't read the evening editions for a while,' he said conversationally.

'You mean the business editions?'

He nodded. 'Those and other stuff. I would like a paper delivered here, but I thought you might object.'

'Depends how long you propose to live here,' she replied as she cut a clean slice from her steak.

'Ha, ha, very funny!'

'You can have them delivered if you want, but not in your name!' she said firmly.

'And why not?'

'Because then everyone in the village will know that you're living here,' she said wrinkling her forehead. 'And as I don't think that will be for very long, I would prefer if you put them in my name.'

He shrugged. 'Suit yourself. But people will find out eventually that you're now a married woman. Dr Carson and your friends will tell everyone, won't they? Or didn't you realise that? So, it seems ridiculous to me that you refuse to get used to the idea.'

She looked down at her plate. 'Can we not keep talking about this, please?'

They spent the rest of the meal in silence, but Stefan didn't seem bothered. After the meal he collected their plates and put them on the worktop next to the dishwasher. Then he retired into the lounge with his evening edition. Geraldine scraped the plates, loaded the dishwasher, and put it on. Then she picked up the book that Stefan had bought her and glanced at the title. It was a murder mystery. Now what on earth was Stefan trying to say? She opened it and was interested to read in the opening paragraph about a woman called Jerry who was worrying about an undisclosed problem. It was a riveting beginning and she decided to start reading the book to find out what the problem was.

She decided to take the book upstairs and put it next to her bed. Also, all the bed sheets needed to be changed. She was determined that Stefan would be spending the nights in her mother's bed from now on until he got fed up and left. The threats that he had previously made seemed very much without substance.

She was also gagging for a shower and had a quick look at the showerhead in the stall. The metal showerhead itself was still sitting on the floor. Stefan hadn't yet got around to do anything about it. He did say that he would throw up some more cement. Perhaps he would have another go tomorrow. She wondered if she should remind him, but surely, he wouldn't forget a thing like that.

While she was at it, she went to examine the wall that Stefan said was damp. It was on the north side of the house and it rarely got any sun. This might have been the reason why it was damp. She felt it, and it was very cold to her touch. She also noticed that some wallpaper near the ceiling was coming away. It could be a sign that the wall was drenched, but Stefan had said no more about it.

Of course, the fifteen thousand pounds that she had stashed away would go a long way to repairing the wall and the shower. In fact, the money could have gone some way to paying her outstanding mortgage debt. But the amount was considerable, and she would still have problems with the premium.

Her solicitor had tried to explain to her the nature of the mortgage premium which he called the MIP, Mortgage Insurance Premium. But the ins and outs of it had just gone over her head. And according to him, apart from the MIP, there was also PMI, Private Mortgage Insurance as well! Talk about confuse you, Geraldine thought. However, you wouldn't have both at the same time and MIP protected the lenders. But she didn't know for sure which one she was signed up to.

The move to get married was a good one, she was sure, because Stefan would take over the payments, or begin to. Then a divorce settlement would cover any future debt. So, whether she stayed with him, or he left, her house was safe. She just had to keep reminding herself of that fact.

But now she was worrying about the damned north wall. How damp could it get before it collapsed? She had seen a tv news story where the wall of a guest house had collapsed in a flood. It was an image which was haunting her more and more. She decided to bring the washing downstairs and then talk to Stefan about the problem to see what he suggested.

She put the sheets into the washing machine with a washing tablet but refrained from turning it on because of the noise. She would do it later. Then she made some more coffee and brought two mugs into the lounge. Stefan was deep into his evening edition. He looked quite sweet, she thought.

'Ah cheers, wifey!' he said taking the hot drink.

She frowned. 'Anything interesting?' she asked sitting down opposite him.

He nodded. 'There always is. I have a portfolio of stocks and they have all improved slightly over the last quarter!'

'Good for you!' she replied.

There was a momentary silence. He suddenly looked at her. 'You okay?'

'No actually,' she replied. 'I have just felt the wall you said was damp. It's very cold!'

'It would be if it's damp,' he said going back to the paper.

'Well is it safe?' she asked, annoyed that he had returned to his reading. Surely what she was saying was of paramount importance.

'Safe until it falls down,' Stefan replied. 'But then again it may never happen. But it will affect the walls joining it and then ultimately the whole house. Damp is always potentially the ruination of a property.'

'That's what I thought,' she said. 'So, do you think we should do anything about it?'

He looked up at her again. 'We should really. This whole house needs a good going over. It needs an overhaul big time. You need to move into a caravan and get the builders in!'

'What?' she said. 'It's surely not that bad, is it?'

'Depends what you mean by bad,' he replied.

He was playing with her, she thought. 'Look, Stefan, aren't you bothered? Because I am.'

He shrugged. 'But it's not my house, is it.'

She sucked in her bottom lip. She was determined not to tell him about the fifteen thousand that she had. Of course, she could always pretend to get a loan from the bank but then he would want to see the paperwork. 'I know it's not your house, but as I don't have any income, I wouldn't be able to afford to get the wall fixed.'

He shot her a sly look. 'But you must have some sort of income. Where's it coming from? You're not on benefits and you don't have a job. So, you must have a lump sum that your mother left you and you're living on that.'

'My mother didn't leave me anything but debt, apart from this house,' she replied truthfully. The fifteen thousand was what her father had secretly stashed away. Maybe he had forgotten about it. The notes looked like old currency to her.

He shrugged. 'Perhaps you're living on your own savings then?'

'I have some money in a post office account,' she replied. But she didn't add that it was only a hundred and fifty pounds.

He nodded. 'I thought you must have had something.'

'But it's not much, so I was wondering if you could lend me the money to get the shower and wall fixed!' There she had said it. If he was going to force his company on her then he needed to start paying out for things.

'Ah, a loan!' he replied but didn't say anymore.

She waited for him to continue but his eyes returned to the evening editions he was holding. He turned a page and sat staring at it.

'So, what do you think?' she prompted.

'About what?' he said absently.

She almost spilled her coffee. _'About a loan!'_

His eyes shot up from behind the paper. _'Calm down woman! No wonder you're on the tablets._ Oh no, that's right, you've thrown them away haven't you!'

She frowned. 'What do you mean by that?'

Stefan suddenly burst out laughing. 'You really do take me for a sucker don't you!'

'What?'

'Do you really think I didn't see you sneakily put the tablets into your cardigan pocket?' he said putting the paper down.

Humiliation descended on her like a cloud. There she was thinking she had got away with it. She stood up and was about to storm out of the room when he grabbed her hand.

'Sit down, sit down,' he said in a soothing voice. 'Seriously, I respect you more for doing that. You're not letting me push you around! I would have done exactly the same thing and in fact have done similar things. We're two peas in a pod!'

She stopped in her tracks and looked down at him. 'I _am_ going to give them up,' she said weakly.

'Never mind about _them_ , let's talk about that loan!' he said putting the paper down.

She slowly went and sat back in her chair and stared at him. 'So, what do you think? Could you lend me a couple of thousand?'

He smirked at her words. 'Obviously you have no idea what a state of disrepair your house is in. It's old, and has been neglected for years, perhaps generations. My eagle eye has spotted a number of serious problems. Speaking as a businessman, I would say the whole house needs to be pulled down and rebuilt!'

' _What?'_ she said aghast. 'You can't be serious!'

'I'm afraid I am.'

'But how much do you think it would cost just to keep it from falling down then?' she enquired not believing she had to ask that question. 'I mean whatever it is, I will do everything I could to repay it!'

'Would you?' he said. 'Well, I know you would in theory, but we are talking about a great deal of money!'

How much?'

'A fortune!' he replied. 'And I wouldn't want to see you in so much debt. It would be wicked of me to lend you the money and then expect you to repay it. It would probably result in you doubling your tablet intake, I'm sure!'

She shrugged. 'And so, what do I do then? Wait until cracks start appearing in the walls?'

'They already have,' he said. 'At the rear of the house. And there's moss on the roof. And the guttering is drooping, and the soffits are completely disintegrated held together by paint, and the lead piping inside the house has to go, and the walls need rewiring. Shall I go on?'

She blinked. Surely, he was just exaggerating. On the outside Larkford looked fine, just seemingly in need of a lick of paint. 'I don't believe it,' she said. 'You're just talking for effect.'

He frowned and shook his head, putting the papers on the floor next to his chair. 'Look, I know you love this old place, and I've really grown to like it too. Love it in fact. It's truly beautiful. A mock Tudor gem, but it's amazing that it wasn't demolished years ago!'

At these words Geraldine took a sharp intake of breath. 'Now that is just going too far!'

Stefan held up his hand. 'I'm not trying to scare you.'

'But surely all the house needs, is a bit of TLC,' she said. 'My father, who knew a bit or two about building used to say it just needed new guttering.'

Stefan shook his head. 'Perhaps he didn't want to alarm you. But the only compromise you should consider is to give the house a new roof to reduce the intrusion of damp. Damp and houses don't mix. And then leave all the other stuff for a later time.'

'How much do you think a new roof would cost then?' she asked. 'But it's not exactly leaking is it?'

'When was the last time you checked?' he asked looking at her directly. 'I would be scared to go up there.'

'I was in the attic the other month and everything seemed quite dry,' she said.

'Hmm, good,' he replied. 'But I would need to go over it with a toothcomb. However, I've got a lot on my plate at the moment.'

She nodded. 'I expect your apartment in Paris is in tip-top condition?'

'It is immaculate, but then I had to renovate it,' he said. 'When I first acquired it there was a lot of lead piping which had to be ripped out.'

'Do you think I should just give Larkford up?' she asked. 'Because of all the work you say it needs?'

He pulled a pensive face. 'I know you love this place, and as I say, I have developed a fondness for it. Also, as beautiful as it is, with some refurbishment it could be truly outstanding.'

'Do you really think so?' she said grateful to hear something positive. 'So, you think it's a worthwhile project then? And me asking for a loan isn't totally stupid?'

'The word stupid wouldn't even apply,' he answered. 'And how much did you want to borrow?'

She shrugged. 'What does a new roof cost? Ten thousand? Fifteen thousand?'

'For a property this size, you will be looking at a lot more,' he said.

'In which case, you would say no to lending me the money?' she enquired.

'I would say, _we could discuss it,_ ' he replied. 'But I have already given the matter a lot of thought anyway, _and so I will have to say, no, to be honest.'_

She felt stung and snubbed at his answer. And this was the man who had just married her. 'Then what's to discuss?' She stood up seriously hurt by his refusal. 'Well at least I know what you really think.'

'Hang on I haven't finished what I was going to say,' he said.

She tossed her hair and walked off into the kitchen. She could feel tears burning under her eyelids. He just liked to play with her.

Stefan came after her. 'Geraldine would you please calm down!'

'I'm calm, but I admit I'm hurt. Here you are, a millionaire and you won't even lend your wife some money to repair her house which is on the verge of wrack and ruin!'

He came up to her and put his hand on her arm. 'I was about to say that the house is so very beautiful with so much potential that it would be criminal of me not to do something about it.'

She looked at him out of the corner of her eyes. 'And so, what do you suggest?'

'Not a loan,' he said. 'But a favour for a favour.'

She pulled away from him and went to the window. It was back to that again, was it, she thought. He was determined to have her even if it meant using Larkford as a bargaining chip. 'What favour?'

He seemed reluctant to get his words out. He visibly took a deep and then said, 'At no cost to you, I will personally supervise the complete refurbishment of this house. I will modernise all the amenities, retain the character of the original architecture and scrupulously observe the requirements of its Grade II listing. I will get all the building permits and permissions needed and will even apply for any grants that may be available.'

She watched him as he paused. 'And?'

' _And the favour I would ask is that you sell the property to me!'_
Chapter Seven

Stefan's suggestion was so electrifying that Geraldine could only stand there blinking. She didn't know whether to be offended or glad. He was offering to release her from some of her greatest worries, but surely, he wouldn't make her homeless? And then the doubts assailed her. This might have been his plan all along, to seize something which might have been immensely valuable. He said Larkford was a Grade two listed building, but this was the first she had heard of it. If her father knew he never mentioned it, and her mother never spoke about such things.

She went back into the lounge and over to the minibar and poured herself a martini without offering Stefan one. She didn't know whether he was a friend or villain, a proper husband or a fortune hunter. Then she started shaking her head. 'Is that why you picked me?' she asked. 'Because I happen to leave in this old Tudor house? Because you could see a way to make some extra cash?'

Stefan guffawed. 'Extra cash? Hardly. I have more money than I know what to do with! Please, understand my gesture for what it is. To help you.'

'Help me by taking away a house that I have loved all my life? How is that helping me?'

'Well it's obvious. Isn't it?' he said with a quizzical frown. 'The house will be returned to its former glory and you'd still be living in it!'

Geraldine swallowed her drink in one gulp and then coughed. 'But I would be your tenant!'

'No, you would be my wife and we would be living here together,' he replied.

'But if you chose to divorce me then I would have to leave,' she said. 'And I would lose this house forever.'

'Only, you'd be richer by many hundreds of thousands of pounds and you'd have a settlement as well,' he said giving her a piercing look.

She shook her head again. 'Selling Larkford is unthinkable.'

'Well, I promise you unless we act soon this house may well end up being worthless,' he said. 'We have a window of eighteen months to act or face the possible collapse of the north wall!'

She looked up at these words. This had been one of her fears, that a wall would just suddenly tumble down. Then again, she was aware that some businessmen knew how to manipulate others for their own advantage. Clearly, Larkford was worth a great deal, and he was surely not going to give her the full value. And then she recalled that he had spoken about the existence of catacombs underneath the house. 'If the north wall collapses it would kill me,' she said.

'If the north wall collapses, it could well bring down the entire structure,' he said. 'Then the property would have to be demolished.'

She bit her bottom lip, a habit that she had recently got into. She felt she needed another couple of Carson's tablets. 'No Stefan, this property has been up for centuries. Why should it suddenly collapse now?'

'You may be right,' he said. 'But why take the chance? I believe this house is worth about nine hundred and fifty thousand in its present state. But if it collapsed, you'd only be left with just the value of the land and nowhere to live. But I would give you a million straight off the bat.'

The sum of money he mentioned made her think. It would certainly give her a financial cushion. Perhaps she could invest it in another property and let it out? But then she would have lost control of Larkford. 'I couldn't,' she said. 'I'd feel I was betraying this house. I have so many memories here.'

'Not all sweet memories,' he chipped in. 'You've got the memory of that ghastly Johnny Leonard, and the memory of your parents dying here!'

' _Stefan!'_

He shrugged. 'I'm just saying you could continue to live here with your memories but would have the option to move on whenever you liked.'

'And also, you would have the option of kicking me out whenever you got tired of me.'

'But that's what you want isn't it?' he replied seemingly playing the Devil's advocate. 'To end our arrangement amicably?'

'You've got me confused,' she said with a frown. 'Are you saying that that is what _you now want?'_

Stefan shook his head. 'Geraldine, Geraldine, please. I don't want to end anything. And I am not interested in making a profit at your expense. I just want us to give our relationship a chance. If you properly partnered with me in this, you would be secure for life.'

She licked her lips thoughtfully. 'In other words, you want me to play the part of the submissive wife?'

'Yes, basically, I do,' he said looking at her earnestly. 'Although submissive is too strong a word. I am a normal man with red blood in his veins who likes a certain kind of woman. And as far as I'm concerned you are it.'

She looked away. He was back to that theme again of cave man wanting cave woman. But his message was clear. To obtain security she had to hand herself over to him, virtually lock stock and barrel, and then she would be fine. It meant bartering her body in the process, but it would still entail losing the house to him in any sale. 'I'm even more unclear,' she said. _'But it seems like you want to sleep with me at any cost.'_

'Excuse me, but that is what married people do,' he replied. 'I'm offering you the world and you don't even want to give a married man what he is due.'

She could tell from his reply that he was determined to get his way. She was trapped in red tape and marital obligation and it wasn't clear how she could extricate herself safely. Larkford was still in the balance. But none of the emotions she had previously felt at the loss of Johnny Leonard and the death of her parents matched what she felt now. It was pure cold anger directed towards this cocky smarmy chancer. _'I think you're horrible,'_ she said.

Stefan seemed genuinely taken aback at this remark. 'Horrible?'

'Yes, because it's obvious how you treat women,' she said. 'You think they are here for your pleasure.'

He shook his head. 'No.'

'When you went off the other day I wouldn't be surprised if you didn't get up to some mischief!' she accused.

He stared at her and then suddenly grinned. 'Goodness, what an imagination you have!' He checked his expensive watch. 'Well, it was very interesting, our little discussion. But I think I'll turn in now. I have another meeting in town tomorrow!'

She nodded. 'Okay.'

'I'll make my own breakfast,' he said. 'But please do consider my offer to you.'

'It doesn't sound right to me!' she replied. 'Oh, and you're sleeping in my mother's room tonight. I've changed the sheets.'

He nodded and then without saying another word went upstairs.

****

It was a relief to be back in her own bedroom again, but she'd had a bad night. Next morning, she tiptoed downstairs and discovered that Stefan had gone, and she hadn't even heard him drive away. But she did hear what seemed like a passing van. She was just about to put some toast on for herself when there was a rap on the front door. Still in her dressing gown, she opened it and discovered two men standing with a large rectangular cardboard box.

'Delivery of tv to a Miss Geraldine Ryans,' the man announced.

'Oh thank you, yes bring it in please,' she said surprised. 'Put it next to the other tv in the lounge if you don't mind, I'll set it up later.' She signed their docket and closed the door.

Going back into the kitchen, she made her breakfast and sat eating her toast at the table, her eyes glazed as she wondered what Stefan was doing now. Whatever he was doing she would never know. A man with means could virtually do whatever he liked.

Now that she had the day to herself, she decided to do some housework and try and make some decisions. There was Stefan's outrageous proposal of course, to sell Larkford to her, which she could hardly take seriously. But she was wondering whether she should just use the secret fifteen thousand she had and organise some house repairs. She wasn't answerable to Stefan and it was still her house. He could take a run and jump! She certainly didn't need his permission to do anything.

As the day progressed, she was finding that her mind kept going back to him. Most of her thoughts were uncharitable ones but by seven o'clock she began to fume. The least he could have done was phone her, and where the hell was he exactly anyway? Looking at the fridge, she decided to knock something up for dinner. She naturally presumed he was coming home at some point. There was some chilled pasta and chicken in the fridge which she decided to combine with a sauce.

Just as she was getting organised, her mobile phone rang. She had been resisting phoning him all day. 'Stefan?'

'Geraldine, you alright?' he sounded cheerful.

'Yes, where are you?' she asked not wanting to sound too eager for his return.

'Dover,' he replied. 'Been all over the place.'

'What time will you be back?'

'Ah, that's the thing,' he replied. 'I won't!'

She was surprised. 'Oh, I see!' Thoughts of Stefan canoodling with another woman rose up in her mind.

'The new tv was due today,' he said. 'Did it come?'

'Yup!'

'Good! I'll set it up when I come back,' he said, but she put down the phone. She wanted to signal that she did not approve of his shabby behaviour even if she was glad he wasn't coming back that night. It was good to have a little respite so that she could assess where her feelings lay.

The phone rang again, but she let it ring. It as punishment for not keeping her informed. He could have told her that morning or the night before that he probably wouldn't be coming back home that evening.

She finished cooking and then had a small plate for herself in the kitchen and retired to bed. It had been a day of housework and she was feeling quite weary.

As she lay in bed, she had several realisations, one of which was that she was getting used to Stefan being around. But this was counter to her plan. The last thing she wanted was to start feeling dependent on him. However, admittedly he did have his good points. For one, she felt she could control him. He only pushed his luck so far, and although he was forceful in his speech sometimes, he didn't follow it up with action. He certainly bullied her in a manner of speaking, but it seemed to be for her own benefit.

She wondered what he was doing now. Was he sitting in some hotel room all alone, or did he have company? Swotting that thought away, because it hinted of jealousy, she made a concerted attempt to go to sleep. It was just annoying that she wouldn't be able to have a shower in the morning.

****

The next day she arose quite late but only because she'd had a restless night. If her mother had been alive, she would have chided her. But Geraldine was her own boss now, despite having a surprise man in her life, and had no intention of changing her ways. She went into her ensuite, had a quick wash and then down to a toasted bacon sandwich, determined to do something worthwhile until Stefan came home. She didn't want his comings and goings to interrupt her schedule, even if it didn't feature very much activity. She began to wonder if she should try and get a job.

The day slowly slipped away, and she tried to fill it as best she could, keeping all thoughts of Stefan at bay. Actually, she reminded herself, she should be glad that she had a bit of time to herself. If this was going to be a pattern, then perhaps it wouldn't be so bad. She would only have to tolerate him for short bursts of time until they finally parted.

For supper she warmed up yesterday's meal and ate Stefan's half of it, once again in the kitchen. But she couldn't stop herself staring at the kitchen clock whose hands barely moved. Even the ticking seemed more sluggish than normal. She bunged everything into the dishwasher when she was finished and conscientiously turned it on. She hated getting up in the morning to washing-up.

Looking down at her phone on the kitchen table, she felt tempted to phone Stefan to ask, 'where the hell' he was! But that would have been a sure sign of weakness. She decided against preparing any supper for him. He could do it himself, if and when he came home.

By eleven o'clock, she decided to call it a day and go to bed, although she was beginning to worry that something untoward had happened to him. Dismissing these thoughts from her mind, she turned off all the lights except the hall lights and retired to bed. She took two of Dr Carson's tablets with a glass of water, which was an improvement on the previous day when she had taken four. Picking up the novel that Stefan had bought for her, she idly flicked through it. It seemed interesting, but she wasn't in any mood to lose herself in the story. Yawning, she turned off the bedside light and lay on the pillow.

She had drifted off when the noise of Stefan returning woke her up. She had deliberately left the kitchen door unlocked to enable him to get in, as she wasn't sure whether he had the front door key or not. Glancing at the clock next to her bed, she saw that it was two am. She listened to him pottering around downstairs and then heard him slowly coming up the stairs. He then gently pushed open her bedroom door, holding a bowl of something which he was eating from with a spoon. From his crunching it was obvious that he had made himself some cornflakes.

'Sorry to wake you,' he said, seeing that she was sitting up in bed.

'I won't even ask you what time this is!' she replied.

'No, because you already know. Two in the morning. Disgraceful of me!' he replied cheerfully.

His remark annoyed her because it suggested that he wasn't bothered by common courtesy. And didn't he himself say a few days ago that they should fully inform each other of what they were doing, or when they intended to go out.

'The hypocrite returns,' she said. 'Not even a phone call!'

He pulled a face. _'I phoned you and you put the phone down!'_

'So where were you then?' she demanded.

'Look, you know I'm a busy man, you need to be more understanding. And you can phone me at any time, but you don't for some reason.'

She frowned at these words. 'What's that smell!'

'Smell?' he said.

'Like perfume!' She felt triumphant that she had caught him out. 'So what is she like? Young?'

'Don't be ridiculous,' he replied. 'You can obviously smell the bouquet of exquisite roses I've bought you. They are downstairs in a vase.'

Geraldine was taken aback at this, but not convinced. 'Blackmail will get you nowhere!'

'It's my way of saying sorry,' he said. 'My phone was on and off the charger and I couldn't phone you as I would have liked!'

'But it's been two days!' she stated. 'Surely you could have let me know what was happening?'

He came around to where she was sitting on the bed, sat down next to her and took her hand. 'Look, I'm genuinely sorry.'

Normally she would have pulled her hand away, but she let him hold it. He wasn't being rough; there was a tenderness in his touch.

'Sorry?' she repeated not knowing whether to continue reprimanding him.

'Yes,' he replied. 'I was trying to fit several things in at once and then my phone went dead and needed charging.'

She shook her head, but her anger was subsiding. 'Poor excuse.'

He nodded. 'I promise it won't happen again, and anyway, didn't you enjoy having some time to yourself?' His eyes stared deeply into hers and for the first time she felt that perhaps he did genuinely care for her.

'I kept myself busy,' she said. 'And yes, I have had a relatively good day!'

'Good, and I did too, sort of,' he replied with a pensive look. He squeezed her hand and slowly brought his head closer to hers.

She didn't move away but watched, waiting for the inevitable kiss. There was also a curiosity in her. It was almost as if she wanted to assess whether his kiss would do anything; make her feel differently. His lips slowly brushed hers and still she didn't move. He momentarily pulled back and then gently kissed her again, but it was as if he was kissing a statue.

Despite this, for the first time Geraldine experienced a pleasure at this intimacy. She didn't feel affronted by his closeness. It was almost a scientific exercise, she told herself. She needed to know what she really felt about this man.

Stefan pulled his head away again and looked at her strangely. He was obviously aware of her resistance, but he didn't seem to mind. 'You're getting used to me,' he said softly.

'Where are you sleeping?' she suddenly asked.

'In your mother's room, obviously,' he replied with a good-natured laugh.

She nodded. 'I expect you are tired after your two long days away? I can't imagine what you were doing.'

'A lot, all boring stuff,' he said. Then he did something she thought was odd. He picked up her hand and kissed the back of it, but she pulled away.

'Don't do that please,' she said. 'The Pope doesn't like it and nor do I!'

'Yes, your holiness!' he exclaimed.

'I think you should go off to bed now,' she said.

He slowly moved his hands up to her waist which was exposed. 'But I think we should talk for a short while.'

'About what?'

He gazed at her for a long minute and then moved her so that she was lying back in a more comfortable position; his hands were powerful. 'We can talk about anything you like.'

Suddenly a sense of excitement surged through her like a current of electricity. The look in his eyes clearly indicated what he was thinking; that he was full of wanting. He was kindling a similar desire in her. Normally, she could clamp down on any feelings like that, but her resolve was weakening. 'We should talk in the morning,' she said.

His shirt was partially undone, and he was gently pressing his upper body against hers. She could once again feel his heat and the tautness of his pronounced biceps.

'Tomorrow is too long to wait,' he said gently kissing her again, but she stayed strong.

'It's only a few hours away,' she said.

'But there is nothing like the present,' he replied as he brought his hand up to the neckline of her nighty. Then he moved forward and kissed her neck.

'I think we're both probably tired,' she said with a stutter.

'True,' he said looking her directly in the eyes. 'But I've missed you.' He brought his lips up to her mouth and lightly kissed her on the lips. 'Didn't you miss me? Not even a little bit?'

'Well, I was wondering why you didn't phone,' she replied.

He suddenly reached up and opened her nighty exposing her breasts. Geraldine quickly tried to cover herself, but he firmly held her wrists. 'Please let me look at you. You are so beautiful.'

Against her will, she relaxed slightly as his admiring eyes took in the curvature of her upper figure. He then brought both his hands up and cradled her breasts and began to kiss them. 'You're lovely darling,' he said.

Despite herself, her excitement was slowly mounting as he drank her in. 'Stefan, I'm too tired to bother with this,' she said.

'What's the new tv like?' he asked ignoring her. 'Good picture? Oh, it's not set up yet, is it!'

She stiffened again as he began to mouth her breasts, his passion getting stronger. But she felt she was almost unable to push him away. 'Stefan, let's call it a night.'

He fully climbed onto the bed next to her pressing her down into the pillow. He then pulled the bed covers off her in one smooth movement. 'But the night is still young,' he said.

She grasped the bed sheet, but it slipped out of her hands. He then quickly tore off his shirt revealing his rough masculine chest. As far as her feelings were concerned, it was the last straw. As soon as his chest made contact with her skin, a fire was lit within her. She now wanted him and naturally slid her arms around his shoulders.

He responded with little kisses, pulling her nighty down to her waist. 'Your skin is so soft and creamy!' he observed.

She moaned slightly, undecided whether to completely submit herself to him or not. 'Stefan...' she said unable to finish her sentence.

'Yes, darling?' he said in a husky voice.

'Stefan I...'

'Did you think about my proposition?' he asked. 'About the house? Will you sell it to me?'

'I haven't thought about it much, I'm not sure.'

Stefan continued to caress her, his excitement clearly getting more intense. 'I find that hard to believe,' he said.

She was still holding back from him, blocking his invasive actions. But then he went too far. _'No!'_ she said. _'I'm not ready!'_ She pulled away from him with all the strength she possessed.

He rolled off her and let out a long breath. _'You're funny you are!'_

She shook her head and pulled her nighty up over her chest. 'I want to know what the conditions are,' she said. 'If you repaired this house, what would you exactly expect me to do for you?'

'I think that is obvious, isn't it?'

'But Stefan, how do I know I will be secure here. I don't particularly fancy being someone's tenant.' She looked at him aware of his arousal which he was controlling quite well.

'You won't be 'someone's tenant,' he said. 'You will be cohabiting in a family home with your husband!'

She folded her arms. 'I don't like that word, cohabiting.'

He leaned back against the headboard and looked at her. She was gathering her nighty together.

'My you are so prim and proper,' he said.

'Look Stefan, can we call it a night, I want to go to sleep.'

He touched her arm. 'But I bet if Johnny Leonard had suggested cohabiting, you would have jumped at the chance!'

'Obviously, because we were engaged to be married,' she replied. 'And we truly loved each other!'

'And where would you have lived?' he asked. 'Here?'

'He wanted me to move onto the barracks with him,' she said.

'The barracks!' he repeated. 'What, those tiny little houses, like boxes?'

'Only for a while,' she said.

He turned on his side to look at her. 'Fate worse than death.'

'Don't say that!' she replied facing him. _'Don't, you dare say that!'_

He shrugged. 'And then presumably you would have moved back here?'

'Probably.'

'Sounds like you're not sure.'

'Stefan, I don't want to talk about it.'

He took a deep weary breath. 'So, what about my offer then?'

'Don't keep pressing me for an answer!'

'Geraldine, this is an opportunity people would give their high teeth for.'

'But you want too much in return,' she replied. 'You want me to virtually...prostitute myself for it!'

His face showed surprise at her use of language. 'Wow there partner! That's a bit harsh! Have I ever laid a hand on you inappropriately?'

She looked at him. The fire which he had started in her had completely subsided, but it had been there, nonetheless. Perhaps he had just been responding to her subtle signals. She wondered what Stefan now thought of her. Perhaps as a silly contrary woman who couldn't make up her mind. In a way she was surprised that he hadn't just seized her and had his way with her. It was possible that he had been on the brink of doing it just then. 'Perhaps you haven't been inappropriate, but you have been a bit intrusive,' she said.

'You call it intrusive and I call it intimate,' he said. 'Have you had any tablets today?'

She looked at him suddenly, surprised at herself. She hadn't even thought about the tablets once. 'No I haven't.'

He nodded, seemingly pleased. 'Well that's a good start, don't you think?'

'Stop trying to manipulate me, Stefan!'

' _Jesus wept woman;_ we're just talking!' He gently squeezed her wrist and got off the bed. His shirt was wide open, and his muscles were glistening in the light of the bedside table lamp. 'Well goodnight!'

'Goodnight,' she murmured. She watched his well-formed masculine figure exit the bedroom. There was no doubt that she, in her turn, had been aroused by his sheer maleness and it was to his credit that he had remained in control. Perhaps it was a sign that he respected her. Or had her obtuseness put him off? Was it her lack of charm which had been the victor today? But in that instant, she found that she was beginning to take to him and, in a way, didn't want him to go.

She turned off the bedside light and then had the thought that he had managed to stay in control because he had already indulged himself when he was away. It was annoying that this bothered her. It wasn't exactly a twinge of jealously but more a feeling of prurient curiosity. She was also annoyed that her body was beginning to respond to him, when she thought she was above such things. His slightest touch had virtually lit a cauldron within her. And thinking back, she realised that Johnny Leonard had never quite affected her in that way.

There was also a sense of a pervasive relief which she couldn't account for. Then she realised that it was because her thoughts had been turned away from her former lover. Johnny Leonard wasn't occupying her thoughts as much as they did. In fact, her mind was now being wholly consumed by Stefan.
Chapter Eight

When Geraldine awoke the next day, the sensual reverberations of the night before still lingered with her. But she wasn't happy that she had let Stefan physically move her around on the bed. What was she? A rag doll? A rich man's toy! A surge of annoyance rose up. She recalled his bare flesh against her own and tried to dismiss the thought by jumping out of bed and going to the ensuite. As the shower still hadn't been repaired, she ran a shallow bath and got into it. It was almost as if she was trying to wash the memory of the previous night out of her mind.

Getting dressed, she went out into the hall to check her mother's bedroom and realised that Stefan was still in the room. She quietly opened the door and saw him deeply asleep in the bed. As the boss of his empire he clearly didn't have to get up for anybody and this was the middle of the week.

She tiptoed downstairs and debated whether to make him some breakfast. But she didn't want him to get used the idea that she was prepared to be his skivvy. Thoughts that he might be oversleeping because he'd a had a riotous time in Dover or wherever he had been tortured her. Images of Stefan with imaginary women rose up in her mind. She literally put her hands on each side of her head and gave it a shake. It was getting ridiculous.

She went over to the percolator and got it going, but it was always on standby anyway. Then she checked the fridge and noted that it was still a cornucopia of good things, but the eggs and bacon would be fine. What she did decide, was that she wasn't going to let Stefan get into bed with her ever again and disturb whatever frail equilibrium she had.

Looking up at the kitchen clock, she was tempted to swallow a couple of Dr Carson's tablets to help her through the day. But they weren't immediately to hand. She felt she might need something to give her some energy. Especially if Stefan was going to be around. If he was at home all day he might start getting thoughts. What was overwhelmingly clear to her was that in Stefan Lafonte's world, sex was like a dessert to be indulged in after every meal! Well, not if she had anything to do with it. Absolutely not.

But why she wanted to make him breakfast and actually take it into the lion's den was beyond her. Why was she tempting fate? He could at any time just grab her and throw her onto the bed. She took a deep breath. She realised that making him breakfast and taking it upstairs was her attempt to face her demons and triumph over them. She wanted to still the beast inside Stefan by looking him in the eye and defying him. So far she had managed to control him, but perhaps it was because he had been sated before he had arrived home last night. This had to be the explanation. Perhaps his normal physical appetite had now returned.

She quickly rustled up the morning's fare and the bacon did look crispy and inviting. Perhaps a good breakfast would calm him down. She poured him a big mug of strong coffee, just how he liked it sweet, and then went upstairs with everything on a tray. Pushing open her mother's bedroom door, she found Stefan opening his eyes. He rubbed his head and sat up clearly surprised to see Geraldine at the door. 'Well!'

'Good morning,' she said like a chambermaid. What was the matter with her?

'It _is_ a good morning,' he replied as he watched her perch the tray on the bedside table. 'This looks perfect. I will have to return the compliment sometime. What? No croissants?'

She frowned. 'Did you want croissants?'

' _No, I'm just joking,'_ he replied sitting up and moving the tray onto his lap. 'The problem with big breakfasts is that they take away one's appetite for dinner later on. I'll have to go for a run or something to restore my hunger.'

These words alarmed her slightly. It seemed to suggest that he needed urgent exercise and it might be the kind that involved her participation. 'Yes,' she said. 'Why don't you go for a run. The fields are fairly flat around here.'

'Perhaps we can both go for a jog,' he said with a wink. 'We don't want to end up like hogs because of all this good living!'

'Maybe,' she replied doubtfully.

'But to be honest, there is something missing,' he said with a sly frown.

She looked at him. 'And what would that be?'

'A morning kiss!' And with these words he reached over and grabbed her arm.

She pulled away. 'You mean an egg and bacon kiss? No thank you!'

'Okay, I'll brush my teeth,' he said.

'It will make no difference,' she said going to the door.

He smiled to himself and looked down at his breakfast. 'Why spoil a perfectly good breakfast by being so bitchy!'

She was shocked. _'If I'm a bitch you're the devil.'_

'You really are determined to chase me away, aren't you?' he said as he dug in. 'But you'll have to do a lot better than that.'

'I could find out where you were this last two days,' she said. 'Get a private detective and get some evidence.'

He frowned. 'And do what with it? Get a divorce? Well, you'll need to be cleverer than that!'

She left the bedroom and stood in the hallway for a moment. He never failed to press her buttons and now she was angry again. She regretted making him breakfast. What was she trying to achieve? Her thoughts were interrupted by the morning mail coming through the letterbox.

She quickly went downstairs and retrieved it on the mat. The first letter had her solicitor's franked address stamp on it. The man was relentless, but the situation had now changed and so perhaps she should bring him up to speed. Or perhaps she should leave it to Stefan.

She took the letters through to the kitchen and put them on the side where Stefan would spot them. She wasn't in the least tempted to open the solicitor's letter as she knew it would be more of the same.

Going to the percolator, she found that it was still piping hot and so she made herself a quick coffee. She was surprised when Stefan brought his breakfast down on the tray a few minutes later. He was wearing his usual T-shirt and jeans.

'Teeth all brushed,' he said merrily. 'I thought I'd join you.' He put the tray on the side and his breakfast plate on the kitchen table and sat down and continued eating. 'Oh, the postman has been?'

'Yep,' she replied as she leaned back against the worktop. 'The solicitor and cable bill.'

'What did he say?' Stefan asked with interest.

'I don't know I didn't open it,' she replied. 'But I'm sure it will be the same old thing.'

'I'll take a look at it if you like,' he said. 'Oh, and as from today I'm paying all the bills.'

Her head bobbed up. 'Really? Why should you? In fact, I'd prefer if you didn't.'

He frowned. 'Something doesn't add up here. You have no source of income and yet you still manage to pay your own bills? Are you going to level with me or what? You can't just be living on savings. You mother has obviously left you a bit of money. Don't deny it.'

Geraldine stared at him levelly. Unless she admitted to something, he was going to keep haranguing her. 'Okay, I admit it. My mother left me a few thousand.'

He smiled. 'Thank you! The last thing I respect is being taken for a fool! I appreciate your honesty.'

'It's a shame you're not equally as honest,' she couldn't resist saying.

He raised a finger and wagged it at her. 'Now don't start with the paranoia.'

'How can I not be paranoid when you stay away for two days without phoning me,' she said. 'Who is she?'

He shook his head. 'You're starting to sound like a nag.'

'And you're starting to sound like a man who will say anything expedient.'

'Look, I was away on business,' he replied as he slowly ate his way through his breakfast. 'I had meetings, conferences, talks, pow wows. There wasn't a women in sight.'

' _Don't lie to me!'_

'Takes one to know one, as they say,' he replied with an almost evil grin _._ 'But I mean it. As from now on, I'll will assume responsibility for all bills and any communications from that shyster of a solicitor of yours!'

She took a deep breath and went to the kitchen door. 'Well, don't expect me to be grateful. I'm not asking you to take over!' She walked out and went upstairs. But in truth she was feeling grateful. The solicitor would now have to deal with Stefan who knew how to be awkward and play him at his own game.

Going in her mother's bedroom she saw that Stefan had made the bed. His tidiness irritated her. What was he trying to be, a boy scout? But the sheets would be fine for a couple of days, especially as she wouldn't be sleeping in them. She then went into her own bedroom and tidied up. She also reached into her bedside table and drew out the capsule of tablets and swallowed a couple. Without water she almost gagged on them. She went into her ensuite and took a drink directly from the tap as the glass was downstairs in the dishwasher.

It was then that she heard a loud bang. She stopped what she was doing, alarmed. She tried to fathom what it was. She went out into the hallway to look out of the window and saw Stefan in the process of kicking down the back-garden fence. What on earth was he doing?

She opened the window and shouted down, _'Stefan what the hell are you up to? Are you mad?'_

From the end of the garden Stefan gave her a wave. 'It's a surprise darling.'

' _You've completely lost it!'_ she yelled.

'Calm down, there's something you don't know! Come down and I'll tell you everything.'

With her hackles as high as they have ever been, Geraldine trouped downstairs ready to have it out with him. She was shocked to see that Stefan had pushed down half of the fence which divided her garden from the grounds beyond. _'Stefan you need to have a damned good explanation for this!'_

He smiled, sweat on his brow. 'You worry too much. See, all that ground beyond your garden, including that field and orchard _belong to you!'_

' _What?'_ she was genuinely nonplussed.

'It's part of the original estate going back to Victorian times,' he said.

'But the orchard is being rented by Mr Withers, the local farmer.'

'Yes, I know,' Stefan said. 'When I was in town, I took the opportunity to check with the Land Registry and it is just as I thought. You still own part of the old estate.'

'But I thought it had been sold off!' she exclaimed.

'No,' Stefan said. 'Is that what your solicitor told you?'

'Yes, and they have been taking rent from Mr Withers on behalf of the landlord.'

'And who is the actual landlord?' he asked.

'I'm not sure,' she said confused. 'It's a company, I think.'

' _No, it's you!'_ Stefan said with a laugh. 'And you are probably owed hundreds of thousands in rent arrears. So, I'm extending your garden to make a point. I will be filing for repossession.'

Geraldine just stared not knowing what to say. 'Are you sure? My father never said a thing about it. And nor did my mother.'

'Perhaps they were naïve,' Stefan replied.

' _Stefan, my father was not naïve!'_

Stefan shrugged and wiped his brow. 'Well, for some reason he didn't tell you. But he must have known. Perhaps he did a deal behind the scenes and didn't want to say anything.'

Geraldine frowned. The fifteen thousand pounds which she had found in the attic may have been something to do with it. But she didn't want Stefan to know she had the money. Perhaps the farmer had given her father a lump sum in order to get a low rent for the land. The farmer had a substantial apple crop on it and did well from the proceeds. 'Look, Stefan, I appreciate what you've found out _, but the garden now looks so untidy!'_

'Don't worry, I'll be re-using the fencing. I'll be putting it up over there!' He pointed to the middle of the field beyond.

'But then I'll have four times as much garden to mow!' she objected.

'You're missing the point,' he said.

'Also, I don't want to clash swords with Mr Withers!' she said turning around and going back into the house.

Stefan followed her into the kitchen. 'But the man has been cheating you!'

Geraldine pulled a doubtful face. 'He's not like that.'

'Hmm,' Stefan replied scratching his head. 'Talking of the mower, I see that your one is on its last legs. I think it's better to get a new one. Petrol driven ones pollute the air!'

'The one I've got is perfectly fine,' she said.

'Well _you_ won't be the one doing the mowing!'

'Why?' she asked with a smile. 'Are you volunteering?' She paused, pleased that her dark mood had been lifted slightly. Or had the tablets done it?

Stefan was studying her. 'Well, you're lucky. You've met a man who loves gardening.'

'Really?' she said.

'Yep, and I'm now going to get that vintage bit of kit out of your shed and do a couple of passes up and down the garden.'

'Oh, thank you,' she said. 'But what am I going to say when Mr Withers asked about the fencing which you've pulled down?'

'Leave the man to me,' Stefan said. 'I'm sure we can come to an amicable agreement.'

Amicable agreement? Geraldine was doubtful. Mr Withers and her father had obviously already reached one. And if the question of the fifteen thousand came up, she would just deny all knowledge of it. 'Okay, I'll make some coffee, then,' she suggested.

'Fabulous,' he replied, and then his face turned serious. 'It's a pleasure to be of help.'

She stared at him. He looked as if he was going to burst into tears. How odd! But he strode manfully off.

She quickly made some coffee and began to plan lunch, although it was already way past the time. The fridge was so packed with food that it really needed to be consumed before it went off. No doubt the mowing would give Stefan an appetite.

She thought she would do the big lasagna which Stefan had selected in the supermarket. He obviously liked Italian food. But she was still moved by his remark about, _'it being a pleasure to help,'_ and the obvious feelings which accompanied it. In subtle ways Stefan was changing the way she felt towards him. Perhaps he could be trusted to renovate Larkford after all, even if it did mean selling it to him. But was that really wise?

She dutifully took the coffee to the kitchen door. She was then startled to see that Mr Withers, the farmer, was standing with Stefan at the bottom of the garden in deep discussion. Geraldine shrank back. The farmer, who was known to have a temper, was sure to be livid about Stefan's invasion of his land. But of course, it wasn't really the farmer's anyway, she told herself.

She stood hidden next to the kitchen door and tried to hear what they were saying. And then suddenly both men laughed. Geraldine couldn't believe her ears. Had Stefan actually managed to tame the man?

Even so, Geraldine felt far too embarrassed to go out with the coffee. She slunk back into the depths of the kitchen and began to prepare lunch. Stefan would be in soon to explain everything.

The lasagna was a ready-made one and so it was just a question of putting it in the oven. As she was busily engaged, Stefan came in beaming like a Cheshire cat.

She looked up at him expectantly. 'Stefan!'

He held up hands in a self-congratulatory manner. 'Don't thank me now!'

'What did he say?' she asked.

'What a lovely man,' Stefan said. 'Apparently he recognised me. I was in one of the farming magazines – see I buy a lot of British farm produce for my restaurants!'

'Goodness.'

'Apparently, Mr Withers and your father came to an agreement, just as I thought,' Stefan explained. 'Withers gave your father a lump sum, under the radar so to speak, so that he could use the land which was being neglected. And your father asked your solicitor to agree not to say anything in order to get the rateable value of your property down. The rateable value is based on the size of the property. The smaller the property the lower the rates. That's why the solicitor told you that the land had been sold. Sly old devil.'

Geraldine gasped. 'But what's the solicitor getting out of it?'

'I think the farmer must be bunging him a few quid from his apple crop!'

'So, what's the situation now?'

'Well, the agreement unfortunately affected the farmer's own rates quite badly,' Stefan replied with a grin. 'And some of the land is unusable as far as he is concerned. So, he is quite happy for us to reclaim some of the land back as long as we don't press him for any rent. But he did say he's willing to think about giving you another lump sum. I gather your father was paid twenty-thousand under the counter so to speak by the farmer for an indefinite usage of the land.'

'Really?' Geraldine replied. This meant that her father had spent five thousand of it leaving the fifteen thousand that she had found.

'So, you knew nothing about it?' Stefan said giving her a suspicious look.

'No,' she answered quickly. 'I don't know why my father didn't just sell the land properly and legally.'

'It was his way of still keeping the land, making some money and at the same time avoiding unwanted outgoings!' Stefan said.

She nodded and adjusted the temperature setting on the oven. 'So, Withers is okay with it?'

'Absolutely, he is. But it means that our rateable value will now go up, but it will go up anyway if I renovate this house. However, if you sell it to me, that won't be your problem.'

Geraldine suddenly looked at him. 'Okay!'

Stefan frowned. 'Okay what?'

'Okay, I'll sell it to you!' she said.

'And I will be happy to buy it, but you need to do something for me,' he said.

She dropped her head. Was he again asking in an unsubtle way for their marriage to be consummated? 'I know what you're going to ask.'

He nodded. 'Good, but do you agree? Do you agree to satisfy my basic needs? A man needs to mate with his wife!'

She cringed at his use of words. Mate? It almost as if they were talking in farmer's language about cattle stock. 'I'm not a cow or a horse or a lamb,' she said.

Stefan gave her a quizzical look. 'A man should not have to beg for rights which are his by law.'

She shook her head. 'Where does love fit into this definition?'

'Love is here for the taking, but you don't want it,' he replied.

She moved away from him and stood over the sink looking out at the garden. What he was offering her were tremendous benefits, financial freedom etc, but Larkford would be gone. It appeared that he was trying to trap her into a long-term relationship with him by taking over the ownership of the house. If she wanted to enjoy Larkford after he had purchased it, she would have to stay with him. Perhaps that was his plan. Perhaps it was nothing to do with money but to so with the man's genuine feelings for her. He wanted her and this was one way of cornering her. But if she did give herself to him, then he would have to change his ways. No more philandering in town with other women. 'I appreciate what you are saying and perhaps I am being a bit unfair,' she conceded.

He snorted. 'Darn right you are!'

'Look, I'm not like other women,' she said. 'I have to admit that I've had a sheltered life and have not had many boyfriends or men friends!'

'Perhaps Johnny Leonard was _the_ boyfriend?' Stefan ventured.

'He was.'

Stefan's eyes widened. 'Right! So, to say you're inexperienced is no understatement.'

'Don't rub it in.'

He nodded. 'Well, that certainly explains a lot.'

'Hmm. So, I need time to adjust to this situation,' she said. 'I don't operate in the fast lane like you.'

'But what if Johnny Leonard contacted you and said he'd made a mistake; would you take him back?'

Geraldine frowned and went to the garden door. 'No. He hurt me, and I'll never forgive him for it.'

Stefan clapped his hands together and grinned cheekily. 'Well at least that's something. I won't have to keep looking over my shoulder worrying about him!'

'You can be so insensitive sometimes!' she replied.

'Insensitive?' he said. 'Well maybe. That's me all over. But I do really care about what you think and feel. I don't need the Johnny Leonards of the world breathing down my neck!'

She acknowledged this with a nod and went and attended to the lasagna, removing it from the oven. Stefan eyed the golden aromatic meal with appreciation.

'Let me help you,' he said.

She shook ger head. _'No, let me serve, and we'll have it in the dining room!'_

****

By the time they sat down to lunch, Geraldine was in a better mood. She got some chilled wine out of the fridge and served up the meal. In fact, she had never drunk so much wine in all her life. Stefan was a bad influence on her.

Stefan tucked in and nodded. 'These ready-made-meals are quite good,' he said.

'I'm glad you like it,' she replied sitting down.

'Oh, I'm going to be seeing your solicitor, Malverne isn't it?' Stefan told her with a hard look.

Geraldine froze. She had been putting the matter of her solicitor off, but she couldn't do it indefinitely. 'Right. I've been meaning to discuss him with you.'

'He's a bit of a crook, so I ascertain; I've read all his lovely letters,' Stefan said. 'So he'll be easy to deal with.'

'You think?'

'Yes, but he needs to know what's going on around here,' Stefan said. 'We need to inform him that the house will no longer need the protection of his Trust, and that I will be purchasing it. I will, in effect be paying off the mortgage in full. But the mortgage provider won't like that because it means they won't be making as much money. When you buy a house via a mortgage company the amount of money you pay back is usually three times what the house is currently worth. It's daylight robbery!'

'Really?'

He nodded and took a mouthful of wine. 'We'll go and see your solicitor as soon as we can and get the paperwork organised. He can do the conveyancing if he wants so that he won't be out of pocket. That will sweeten him up a bit.'

'But not much,' Geraldine ventured, trying to appreciate all the ins and outs. 'But he does want to speak to me, and this is going to be a bit of a surprise for him. Our marriage I mean.'

'It will be, I have no doubt,' Stefan said. 'And I know he'll put up a fight, but I'll remind him of his underhand dealings.'

'His underhand dealings?'

'Yes, the deal he did with your father and farmer Withers and not telling you about it,' Stefan said. 'I could hit him with a malpractice claim! Plus, I'll raise the question of the catacombs. He'll be shocked that I have done so much research. It's amazing what's in the public domain!'

'And I never knew a thing about it,' she said. 'To be honest I don't believe it. My father never said a word.'

'Well, that's what they told me in the library!' Stefan said.

Geraldine looked down at her plate. _'I'll be very interested indeed to hear what the solicitor has to say about it.'_

****

Stefan managed to get an appointment with the solicitor the very next afternoon. Geraldine was a complete bag of nerves fearing that the solicitor held all the cards. Stefan drove them to the office in town, doing his best to calm Geraldine's anxieties. The appointment was for two thirty and they were immediately shown into Mr Malverne's posh office without having to wait.

The older man took one look at Stefan, and it was obvious that he didn't like him. The solicitor invited them to sit down in front of his desk. Stefan introduced himself and briefly explained the situation, which the solicitor respectfully listened to.

'So, you're now married, Geraldine, congratulations,' Malverne said, but the tone of his voice did not indicate that he was particularly happy about it.'

'Thank you,' she replied picking up on his attitude.

'And as her husband I am taking over all mortgage payments and paying any outstanding fees,' Stefan said firmly. 'In fact, I am buying Larkford outright.

The solicitor nodded. 'I understand, but I'm afraid it isn't as simple as that. Geraldine has already signed an assent form which is legally binding.'

Geraldine frowned. 'An assent form?'

'Yes,' the solicitor said. 'About four months ago. In it you agreed to the principle of our firm setting up a Trust in accordance with your mother's wishes. It was the most sensible thing to do at the time.'

'I don't remember signing any assent form,' Geraldine said.

'I can show it to you if you don't recall,' Malverne said dipping into a swathe of papers. 'Here.'

Geraldine looked down at the document which the solicitor slid across the desk. 'Oh, that! But I thought this was just to retain your normal services.'

'But you did sign it, did you not?' the solicitor asked.

'Yes, but I didn't realise that it had anything to do with the Trust.'

Stefan frowned. 'Perhaps you didn't properly explain what it was, Mr Malverne.'

'I believe I went into quite some detail,' Malverne said.

'You explained about the Trust, yes,' Geraldine conceded 'But you didn't say that this document was directly related to it.'

Stefan frowned. 'Now look here, Mr Malverne, I think you should give the lady the benefit of the doubt and tear it up!'

Malverne laughed. 'I'll do no such thing!'

'Then I'll do it for you,' Stefan said grabbing the document and tearing it in two.

The solicitor was aghast. He stood up. _'How dare you! But it doesn't matter, that was just a copy. Now I want you to get out!'_

Stefan also stood up. _'I'll do no such thing._ It is quite obvious that you are a chiselling weasel who is trying to disinherit my wife and I won't stand for it. Lying to her about the status of the land on Farmer Wither's side of the garden fence! Cheating the council out of money! Not informing Geraldine of the possible existence of valuable historical artifacts on the grounds of her property! You're just using your legal prerogative to capitalise on her ignorance! And now you're trying to steal her home!'

The solicitor sat back down again and stared at Stefan. 'That story about catacombs is just a load of hogwash. And the agreement involving Withers was between Geraldine's father and the farmer.'

'But you legally sanctioned it!' Stefan said. 'Plus, you made false representations to the council regarding council tax! And among other things, Geraldine is now owed thousands in back rent from the farmer which she's probably lost any chance of getting.'

'You'll have to prove it,' Malverne said unrepentantly.

'I won't have to. Mr Withers has already admitted the wrongdoing!' Stefan said. 'But he's the innocent one in all this. You should have given Geraldine's father the correct advice on that matter. I might give my attorney a ring and launch an action for damages on my wife's behalf against your firm!'

'Now wait a minute, don't be so hasty,' the solicitor said. 'Sit down and let's talk about this. If you press your point, I will press mine. Our firm has been covering Geraldine's back for some time. If the matter went to court, any judge would be sympathetic to the efforts we've made on behalf of our client. In effect we have been providing her with zero percent loans to help her keep her house. Loans which are still outstanding!'

'I've seen the documents,' Stefan said. 'The loans were made out to her mother.'

'But that makes no difference,' the solicitor replied. 'The estate is one and the same.'

Stefan stood up. 'You'll be hearing from my attorney. Come on Geraldine! I won't stand by and let this character steal your home from under your feet!'

Stefan stormed out with Geraldine close behind. They walked without talking until they reached Stefan's car in the carpark and they climbed in.

'Well that went well,' Stefan said with a smile.

'Do you think so?' Geraldine said her face wreathed in frowns.

'Yes, after a few days he'll write to us agreeing to discharge any claims his firm may have on your house.' Stefan said confidently as he drove out into the traffic. 'But I'll be contacting the mortgage provider straight away and make the purchase. We'll do the exchange in less than a month.'

She nodded, bewildered by the speed of things. 'And then you'll start renovating it presumably? But where will we live in the meantime?'

'We'll rent out the Oathouse,' Stefan stated. 'And stay there while the building work is being undertaken.'

'The Oathouse? But that's farmer Wither's property!' Geraldine said doubtfully.

'Yes, and he has already agreed.' Stefan replied giving Geraldine a tweak on the arm. 'As you know he rents the property out in short-term lets, but he hasn't had a tenant for six months. He'll let us rent it at a bargain basement rent. See, he feels bad about that deal he did with your father and not telling you!'

Geraldine's eyes were full of wonder. 'I see. Well, I'm agreeing to all this and yet once Larkford is sold, I've lost the title forever.'

Stefan stared at her, leaned over and gave her a light kiss on the cheek. 'Never say forever,' he said mysteriously. 'Also, the Grade 2 Listed restrictions on the property are not onerous at all. We can turn Larkford into a really luxurious pad!'

She nodded. 'Sounds good, but I don't want there to be too many changes. I would still like to remember it as it was.'

'It will be more or less exactly the same, but without the problems,' he said. 'And the beauty is we can watch what the builders are doing from the Oathouse.'

'Are you sure Mr Withers is okay with that?' she asked. 'I mean, he's never been the friendliest neighbour. He barely spoke two words to my mother.'

Stefan patted her on the arm. 'That's called guilt! Believe me, when I spoke to him, he seemed relieved to be able to do something for you. I think the old boy is riddled with guilt over that under-the-counter arrangement he had with your father.'

Geraldine sighed. Stefan seemed to be turning things around. He was clearly a born businessman who loved to do deals. 'I see,' she acknowledged.

'Oh, and another thing,' Stefan said getting into his stride. 'I want to bring you over to stay at my apartment in Paris on Avenue Montaigne. It's near the opera house.'

'Sounds frightfully posh,' she said.

'It is and it's large too when you think that most Parisians live in shoebox-sized apartments!'

'I'm not sure about staying though,' she said thoughtfully. 'Perhaps I could come for a day visit.'

'Well, I want to dispel the idea you have that I've got another woman tucked away somewhere,' he said.

'If you say you haven't, you haven't' she replied.

'But you say that in a voice which clearly tells me that you don't believe me,' he observed with a smile.

'Let's not go there,' she said. 'Which reminds me, I was supposed to contact Franny about looking after her house when she goes away. I forgot all about it.'

'Don't worry, I've already spoken to her about it,' Stefan said. 'They are going to use that new remote security system. It's basically an app on your phone which allows you to talk to any visitors who come to your home through the intercom.'

'Oh yes I saw that being advertised.'

'It's good,' he said. 'However, I still want you to come for a French visit, even if it is only for a day. If you don't want to stay you can always get a suite at one of the local hotels if you want.'

'I'll think about it,' she said.

'And this isn't a trick to try and get you to sleep with me,' he said. 'My apartment has a spare room which you can use, or I'll use.'

'But what about overseeing the builders,' she enquired.

'It will be my team of builders and they'll be face-timing me twice a day.'

'You've got all the bases covered from the sound of it,' she said. She glanced at her watch. In a few hours it would be bedtime and she would be faced with the conundrum which had been continually dogging her. Should she give in to him or not? His sweetness may have been a prelude to persuading her to let him sleep with her. He seemed to have accepted life in her mother's bedroom, but he just might come into her room and sit on the bed. This could lead to other things.

They eventually pulled up at Larkford and Stefan hastily parked the car and they went into the house.

Geraldine hung up her coat and Stefan disappeared somewhere. She then found him fiddling around with the new tv set. He was tuning in the channels. The picture on the screen was high definition, something Geraldine had never seen before.

'What a great picture!' she said. 'Fancy a snack?'

'Lovely,' he replied with a wave of his hand. 'But I'm still full up from the Lasagna we had yesterday!'

'Don't be silly,' she chided with a laugh and went and made some ham and lettuce sandwiches. She brought them into the lounge as Stefan finally got the tv up and running. The big screen dominated the room. They sat and watched the news for a while and then Stefan flicked over to the sport.

'It's like being at the cinema!' she said getting up. 'Well, I'm off to bed.'

Stefan also stood up. 'Don't I get a kiss for being good with the solicitor?'

She relented and let him hold her and kiss her on the cheek, but it was more like a brotherly kiss. She would rather those type of kisses than the other kind. 'Goodnight,' she said.

He smiled but his eyes were serious. 'Look, I just wanted to say that I appreciate that you are experiencing some big changes in your life at the moment. But you can't stay on one spot forever. You have to move forward. You can't keep mourning your mother or Johnny Leonard for that matter.'

She looked at him sharply. 'Whose mourning Johnny Leonard?'

'Okay,' he said. 'But if tonight you need to talk, you can. We don't have to be separated by two rooms.'

'I prefer the arrangement,' she said frankly. There it was again, Stefan trying to find a loophole, but she wasn't having it. He could jolly well stay in her mother's room until he got sick and tired of it. Perhaps agreeing to go to Paris was a bad idea after all.

He held up his hands in a surrender pose. 'There you go shooting me down again. What must I do to please you?'

'You can please me by not trying to please yourself all the time,' she replied.

'Is that what I'm doing?' he enquired.

'Yes, it's like you only think of one thing,' she said. 'And it's not healthy.'

Stefan raised his eyebrows. 'It's not healthy to live like a nun!'

She was about to make a catty reply when Stefan's grin stopped her in her tracks. He could be so charming sometimes and it was probably the reason she put up with him. On one level he was threatening, but on another level, he didn't really frighten her at all.

'Well?' he said.

'Well what?'

'You were about to cut me down to size,' he said.

'Stefan...'

'Yes?' He put his head on one side. 'Look, let me put this to you simply and sincerely. I want you. I desire you. You are a very beautiful woman. If I were a poet, I would write reams about you. But I also respect you. If you don't want me in your bed that's sort of fine. I can cope with it, because the greatest treasure is just to _be in your life!'_

She swallowed hard. He would have her in tears next, she mused. Then going against her firm resolve she touched his arm and gently kissed him on the cheek, like a sort of compensation. His reaction amused her.

' _Hallelujah with bells on!'_ he exclaimed with a chuckle. 'Am I dreaming, or did you just now volunteer to kiss the ogre?'

' _Oh, shut up!'_ she replied with a smile. 'Well, I'm off to bed. Night!'

****

Stefan was right, it didn't take long for the solicitor to get back to them. His letter struck a conciliatory note and he even offered to do Larkford's conveyancing. He had clearly done some research on Stefan and found him to be a man worth cooperating with. Stefan immediately phoned the solicitor back and agreed to his offer and promised to refer more work to him in future. 'I can always use an experienced British based solicitor, especially one with your credentials,' Stefan said. He ended the call with a grin.

'I suppose you and Malverne are best friends now?' Geraldine observed.

'Practically,' Stefan said. 'He'll probably give me a big hug when he sees me again! Oh, and the exchange of contracts will be in a few days' time. The whole process has been fast-tracked as they say!'

Geraldine took this information in soberly. It would mean that her precious Larkford would now belong to Stefan, and she began to fret that she had made a mistake. Still, he couldn't have the house without paying for it, so at least she would have something to show for it.

****

A few days later, Stefan had to go to Paris for a meeting with 'the middle management', as he described it and so she was left alone again with her thoughts. He always flew, but she had heard on tv that the particular airline that he used had unexpectedly been thrown into administration. She wondered whether this would delay his return home.

Later on that day the solicitor rang, and his tone was almost sickeningly deferential.

'Oh, Geraldine, how are you? And I hope you have forgiven me for not congratulating you on your marriage to Mr Lafonte. What a first-class gentleman!'

'Thank you,' she answered not sure whether the solicitor's complement was sincere.

'I just thought I'd bring you up to scratch on the exchange,' he said. 'It's gone through and quite a tidy sum has just been wired through to your personal account. Once again, congratulations!'

'Oh,' Geraldine replied shocked at the swiftness of the process. 'So Mr Lafonte is now the owner of Larkford?'

There was a long pause at Malverne's end, and then he said. 'All is in order, so once again congratulations and I hope it all works out in the future for you and I'm sure it will!' And he hung up.

Geraldine clicked off her mobile phone feeling something was amiss. The solicitor hadn't properly answered her question as to whether Stefan was now the owner of Larkford or not. So was he? Malverne didn't precisely say. It made her wonder whether some sort of sly deal had been done behind her back, knowing that she didn't have a head for business.

She immediately checked the balance of her bank account online and sure enough the money from the house sale had been deposited. She had never seen so much money in her account before. She felt rich, but it didn't seem quite real. It was almost accompanied by a feeling of dismay that she was now just a tenant in Larkford. She could almost feel the old house rebelling at the thought.

As she sat fretting, with her customary mug of coffee in her hand, there was a tap on the back door. When she went to see who it was, she was surprised to see Franny.

'Hi girlfriend! Or should I say Mrs Lafonte! How are you doing?'

'Hi stranger, I thought you'd gone on that trip of yours!' Geraldine said.

'Not yet. But I didn't want to be a nuisance,' Franny said. 'So, how's life with the handsome billionaire?'

Geraldine frowned and then tongue-in-cheek said, 'Is that what he is?'

'Most certainly,' Franny replied with a smile. 'Look, this is just a brief call. I'm going into town. Do you need anything?'

'No, I'm fine thank you.'

'And are you still good to look after our house?' Franny asked. 'I mean, we've got a new security system installed, but it would still be great if you could look in from time to time.'

'Sure, no problem,' Geraldine replied. 'Just let me know when you're going.'

'Will do, well must rush,' Franny said giving her a hug. 'See you later!'

Geraldine went back to her coffee and thoughts. It was strange to hear Franny call her Mrs Lafonte. She still didn't feel she was married. And lately she had got into the habit of giving Stefan a peck on the cheek, but it was like kissing her mother. She also had the thought that if they were going to stay at the Oathouse, she ought to start getting things organised there. The problem with that, was it might mean dealing with the farmer in Stefan's absence. But would Withers still be amenable?

The phone rang, it was Stefan. 'I don't know if you've heard, but the airline I'm using is in administration at the moment,' he said.

'Yes, I saw a news item on tv as it happens,' she replied. 'Will that be a problem?'

'They won't be flying me home, but I'll be transferred to another airline, and the flight might be delayed. You okay?'

'Yeah fine,' she said. But she wanted to talk about Larkford. She needed him to confirm that everything was alright. 'So, I'm now your tenant, congratulations.'

'Congratulations to you,' he replied. 'Spend your money wisely!'

'Don't say it like that,' she countered. 'It sounds like you're kicking me out!'

'Don't be ridiculous,' he said. 'But on a serious note, I might be able to wangle another way home.'

'Really? And what's that?'

'I don't want to say it and then jinx it.' he said.

'Well, I hope you get home soon,' she stated actually meaning it, and then bit her tongue.

'That's nice to hear.'

'What I mean is, that I've got used to your company,' she said not wanting to sound too keen.

'And I've got used to yours,' he replied. 'I shall be upset if I can't make it back by tomorrow night.'

'And so will I,' she said and then correcting herself. 'I mean, there's so much food in the fridge that we really need to start eating it. One woman can't do it all on her own.'

'So, it's not because you're worried about me then?'

'Obviously I'm concerned that your flight has been cancelled,' she said.

'You can be so clinical sometimes,' he replied with a laugh.

'Okay, I'll admit that this house can get lonely sometimes, but I never noticed it before,' she explained. 'I was always used to my mother pottering around, and now _you're_ on the scene. It's sort of like an extension of how things were before.'

'So, let me see what I think that means,' he said humorously. 'You're gagging for me to get home because you miss my goodnight kiss!'

'Ha, ha, very funny!'

'But seriously, it is a big house and I do worry when I'm away,' he said. 'I mean, there aren't that many burglaries going on in the area are there?'

'Not one in all the time I've lived in this village,' she said. 'Too many ferocious dogs about.'

'Good,' he replied. 'Then perhaps we should get one to be extra safe. Or get one of those apps that Franny has got.'

'Good idea,' she said.

'Right, I'll keep you updated about the flights,' he said bringing the call to an end. 'Good night my sweet!' And he hung up.

She clicked off her phone and went to the kitchen door and bolted it. She had never been that unduly concerned about security before. But now that the subject had been brought up, she decided to double check that all was locked up before she retired.

As she went around the four main external doors making sure they were bolted, she found herself laughing. It was something Stefan had said about missing his goodnight kiss. Actually, he had a point. She did. It was sort of comforting, like the kiss of a benevolent and kindly relative.

She also was beginning to appreciate the man's patience. Other men would have thrown her over at her refusal to cooperate with their wishes. Perhaps she was now actually being silly. After all, he was a very rich, handsome, considerate man whom other women would give their high teeth to possess. And there was now no doubt that she had feelings for him. She had felt them when he had come to her bed. So why was she being so obtuse, she wondered. She didn't quite know the answer to that question herself. But she did feel that the period of adjustment was over, and that she had to make a decision. Accept him into her life as her life partner or split up from him. It had to be one or the other.

However, going by how she felt now, a little lost without his company, she decided that it was time for a commitment. Time to go with what she knew in her heart she had to do. Even if she had rebelled against it with all her might. When Stefan came home, he would find her attitude changed, but she would still tread carefully.
Chapter Nine

Geraldine had not slept well, but that might have been because of all their talk about house security. However, as she got out of bed and went to the window she began to feel that she had turned a corner. Whether that was because of all the money now in her account, or because Stefan had relieved her of the burden of Larkford was hard to say. The fact was, that when Stefan got home he would find that their relationship would be on another footing. She was now his guest. It was a slightly unsettling thought.

If she was honest with herself, the prospect of being with Stefan for the rest of her life didn't seem so terrible. And the thought even made her smile. He did say on the phone that he had got used to her company and she admitted in her turn to having got used to him. It could be the start of something really special or was she just getting ahead of herself?

Stefan could return at any time and so she thought she would tidy up. Not that the place ever got into a mess. But she decided to launder the bedsheets and then start preparing dinner. However, she had no doubt that Stefan would have eaten well, and so she really needed to come up with something special. She wracked her brain and then looked up the recipe for Coq au Vin online which seemed simple enough.

Deciding to get the dinner going early, she found herself humming as she worked and could only put her good humour down to the fact that Stefan was coming home soon. She didn't once worry about the fact that the airlines were having issues. To a man like Stefan these were problems that were easily solvable.

Lost in thought, she looked up and was surprised to see Franny again at the kitchen door. Geraldine beckoned her in. _'Hello again!_ Come in what's up?'

'I've brought my door keys before I go,' Franny said with a grin. 'But if that's an inconvenience, don't worry...'

Geraldine took them. 'No, I said I'd do it and I will. I'll check your house every afternoon if you like.'

'That would be so great if you could,' Franny replied. 'We'll be off at the weekend!'

'Great! You can make us some coffee if you like,' Geraldine said.

'Lovely,' Franny said going to the percolator. 'Oh, it's warm!'

'Twenty-four seven!' Geraldine said.

'So congratulations again,' Franny said.

'Thank you.'

'Married to a billionaire, eh, fancy that!' Franny mused as she busied herself with the mugs.

'He seems quite down to earth really, but he's on a business trip at the moment,' Geraldine replied.

Franny frowned. 'I just hope he doesn't live up to his reputation.'

Geraldine pulled a face. 'You haven't come here to put the kybosh on it, have you?'

Franny shrugged. 'I just want you to be prepared.'

Geraldine stared at her. 'Prepared for what? If he divorces me, I'll do quite nicely out of it.'

'It depends,' Franny said. 'He's a very shrewd businessman and the law in France where he's based is different to the law here. In France there are five types of **divorce proceedings** : **divorce** by mutual consent, **divorce** by judicial consent, **divorce** accepted, **divorce** as a result of the definitive alteration of the marital bond, and fault **divorce**.'

Geraldine looked at her friend in surprise. 'Have you been reading up on this then?'

'Well a little bit, and I just hope French law doesn't apply here,' Franny said.

'Why should it?' Geraldine asked with concern. 'We were married here.'

'But he's a French citizen.'

'Yes, but I'm a British citizen, so English law would apply wouldn't it?' Geraldine said. Feelings of uncertainty were beginning to rise up again. Was Franny implying that if they divorced, she could come unstuck because of Stefan's adopted nationality? Geraldine realised that she didn't even know for sure where Stefan had been born. She knew he lived in France on and off. But he never spoke about his past. She was mad to have not even made these basic enquiries about him.

Franny was leaning against the worktop with her coffee, giving her friend a strange look. 'I'm not sure how the divorce laws apply with foreign nationals.'

Geraldine sat down at the kitchen table and stared at Franny. 'English law must surely apply. I'm certain of it. And if we divorced then any judgement about a settlement would be made here.'

'Not necessarily,' Franny said. 'I just wished I'd had the time to talk to you before, talk you out of the marriage!'

' _Well, gee thanks for nothing,_ ' Geraldine replied a bit miffed. 'But it was as if you put us together. I met him in your house, remember?'

'I know, but I was trying to distract him. I didn't want him to have an argument with William.'

Geraldine frowned deeply. 'Now why would he have an argument with your hubby then? You need to explain yourself.'

'It's a bit of a long story,' Franny replied. 'But I thought it might be amusing for you to meet Stefan and perhaps have a bit of an innocent fling together. But I didn't expect him to marry you! That is one institution he doesn't respect!'

Geraldine nodded. 'Well, he's the one who offered to marry me. But you need to level with me. I sense there is something you are not telling me.'

'Alright,' Franny said with a sigh. 'I'll come clean. Stefan and I used to go out together.'

Geraldine raised her eyebrows. 'Go out?'

'Yes, and this was before I met William,' Franny said. 'Stefan is actually my ex and we were even engaged to be married!'

' _What! No way!'_ Geraldine was shocked.

'I kid you not, but that was well over seven years ago when I was very wet behind the ears,' Franny said with a wistful smile. 'And I thought it was love, but I saw the other side of him. He used business to play away. Apparently, he had this secretary whom he was very cosy with.'

Geraldine was sitting at the table, a look of disbelief on her face. 'My God, I can't believe it. Why didn't you tell me?'

'Well, I didn't think you and Stefan would hit it off,' Franny explained. 'I mean, it was all a long time ago, and Stefan's become a sort of family friend now.'

'For a family friend you've kept him well hidden,' Geraldine observed. 'I don't know what to say.'

'I'm just warning you that you may be in for a bumpy ride,' Franny told her.

It all seemed so unreal to Geraldine that she just got up and checked the Coq au Vin which was doing nicely. 'I can't get my head around it.'

Franny pursed her lips in a guilty way. 'I feel really bad that I never told you. William is furious with him, but somehow we've all managed to keep the peace.'

'I don't understand why you even have him back in the house,' Geraldine said. 'Why is William furious with him?'

'Because of the way Stefan treated me,' Franny said.

Geraldine shook her head. 'But it doesn't make sense. Surely you should put the past behind you. There has to be a reason why Stefan is still part of your social circle. Did he lend you some money or something?'

'It's complicated,' Franny said. 'But I want you to know that William knows a really good divorce lawyer if things go to pot for you.'

' _God, Franny, I've just married the man.'_

Franny shrugged. 'I'm sorry for not warning you properly.'

'I feel embarrassed that I married him now!' Geraldine said.

'Because he's like my hand-me-down?' Franny said.

'Yes!' Geraldine answered. 'For one. But I don't know what to think.'

Franny stared at her friend. 'I don't want you to go through what I went through with him. He even used to slap me around!'

' _What! You're kidding me?_ ' Geraldine said. 'Well I swear, if he tried any of that nonsense with me, that would be it. Is that why William is angry with him?'

'That and other things,' Franny replied.

The reservations Geraldine had about Stefan had again resurfaced. She realised from what Franny had said, that Stefan was in all probability seeing someone on the side. This thought shattered the temporary happiness she had recently felt. 'So, you think he's up to mischief now then?' she asked.

Franny looked towards the lounge door. 'He's not here is he?'

'Nope.'

'Look, he might have changed, who knows?' Franny said reasonably. 'People do change. He does seem a lot more mature than he used to be. Perhaps this time, he wants to do the right thing.'

Geraldine nodded. 'We can but hope.'

'But there is one thing,' Franny said.

'What?' Geraldine was all ears.

'There is someone among his current entourage that Stefan has been photographed with a couple of times.'

Geraldine frowned. 'Photographed where?'

'In the farming magazines,' Franny said. 'His company buy a lot of British farming produce and there's this woman who always seems to be hovering in the background. And I'm sure that it's not his secretary.'

'Perhaps an employee,' Geraldine suggested.

'Could be, but she does seem rather glamorous and she was wearing a white mink.'

Geraldine took this in. 'Glamorous?'

'I'm afraid so and knowing Stefan as I do, I wouldn't be surprised if he isn't romantically connected to this person. I'm sorry to say that. But as you say, it could be a member of staff!'

Geraldine bit her bottom lip. Despite what Franny said, there was still something wrong with this equation. If Stefan had a penchant for attractive women, then why on earth did he date and almost marry Franny? She was hardly in the top echelon where good looks were concerned. There was definitely more to this story. 'This is all too much to take in,' Geraldine said.

'I'm sorry to be the one telling you the bad news,' Franny said. 'Well, I have to rush.' She gave Geraldine a hug and said. 'And thanks again for agreeing to watch the house!'

Geraldine watched Franny go and found herself left with mixed emotions. And there was she deciding to adopt a different tactic where Stefan was concerned. Now, she didn't know where she stood. Stefan would always have plenty of opportunities to carry on with women behind the scenes. It would always be a worry. Also, she suspected that the way he spoke to her was the way he spoke to most women, and so his lines were no doubt well-rehearsed. Frankly, she now didn't know what to do about him. But probably she needed to resume her former reticence and reserve. The man now needed to prove his good intentions towards her.

However, the thought that Stefan had 'been' with Franny almost sickened her. She just didn't seem to be Stefan's type. She was too homey and commonplace. Perhaps this was a description Geraldine could apply to herself. But men had always complemented her on her looks. Personally, she thought her ears too big and her cheeks too drawn, but someone once said she looked like a model.

Franny's revelations tormented her throughout the rest of the day and by the time Stefan came home she was in considerable turmoil. Uppermost was the thought that somehow, she had betrayed Larkford, sold it on with very little thought. If the house had a heart it would probably be crushed, she thought whimsically. There was no doubt that she was cash rich, but it didn't make her feel secure. She just hoped Stefan would keep his promises, but if Franny's character reference was anything to go by, it would be a gamble.

However, the good thing about having sold the house was that she could now move on at any time, but it would be painful. It was possible that she might be able to find another Larkford somewhere, but the local vibe in the part of England where she was presently lived was unique. At least, that is what she felt. It couldn't be easily replaced.

It was while she was lost in her thoughts that Stefan let himself in and stood staring at her from the dark hallway. It was almost as if he had materialised there. She nearly jumped out of her skin at the sight of him.

' _Stefan!_ I didn't hear you come in!'

He looked at her strangely. 'Hi, sweetie!' he said. 'Got another flight with no problem and landed closer to home!'

'Thank goodness! I've made some dinner, but it needs to be warmed up!' She was looking at him with new eyes.

'Lovely! I've been on the go since four this morning,' he said putting down a small carry case. 'Got some laundry for you! Just kidding!'

'If you have, just stick it in the washing basket,' she replied as anger began to boil up inside her. From his smug expression she was certain that he had been up to something. And then she had the thought that she could check his laundry to see if she could detect anything.

Stefan ambled into the lounge and poured himself a stiff drink at the bar. 'Can I make you one?'

She shook her head. 'I'm just going to reheat your supper and then I'll be off to bed.'

'Oh heavens!' he said walking over to her. 'What's the matter, you seem upset?'

'I'm just tired,' she said.

'But won't you join me for a bit of supper?'

'I'm not hungry,' she replied.

'Alright, but at least tell me what the matter is,' he said looking at her intently. 'It's obvious to me that something is eating you. Tell me what it is please. Talking about it will relieve some of the pressure, I promise.'

'I doubt it,' she replied as she began to walk away, but he grabbed her.

'Geraldine please, I've been looking forward to seeing you so much, I'd hate it if you went to bed straight away!'

'Well, I'm sorry, but I'm tired,' she shook off his hand.

'Is it the fact that you no longer own this house?' he asked.

She made a face. 'No.'

'Then what? Help me out here,' he said with a frown. 'Is it something I said?'

'No, look Stefan, let's talk tomorrow,' she replied going to the foot of the stairs.

Stefan gave her a hard look. 'You've found out, haven't you?'

She returned his glance. 'Found out about what?'

'I didn't want you to know and Franny did promise not to tell you straight away,' he said.

Geraldine rounded on him. 'If you mean the fact that you and Franny were engaged to be married? Yes, I now know all about it.'

He sighed heavily and looked down. 'Is it such a big deal? Franny said you'd might be upset if you knew. I was going to level with you, but it didn't seem relevant to anything.' His tone was apologetic.

' _Not relevant?'_ she repeated. 'How can you say that? If I knew that you and Franny were going to get married, I'd never would have consented to marry you. It's just sick!'

'Sick?' he repeated genuinely puzzled. 'But Franny is your best friend, isn't she?'

'I haven't known her for that long,' Geraldine answered. 'I've only been friends with her for a couple of years. I had no idea what she had done before then. I certainly didn't know that she knew you!'

He folded his arms wearily. 'Goodness if it isn't one thing, it's another! So when did you have this cosy conversation with Franny, then?'

'Does it matter?'

'No, but what did she say?' he asked.

'She told me that she had a bad time, that you beat her!'

Stefan's head swivelled around at this. 'Beat her? Are you being serious?'

'Ok, she said you slapped her around!'

' _Absolutely not true,'_ he said red faced. 'If anyone did the slapping she did. She's a very jealous woman your friend. And she won't like the fact that we're married. See, she's quite money mad!'

Geraldine, who was genuinely feeling tired, suddenly felt a squirt of adrenaline flowing through her veins. Perhaps Franny's tale of woe was exaggerated and that she had had her own agenda. 'So you never laid a finger on her?'

'I'll tell you the absolute truth,' Stefan said taking a deep breath. 'I once pushed her down onto the sofa because she took a knife to me!'

Geraldine's eyes blinked in astonishment and then she burst out laughing. 'What! No way! I don't believe it. Meek and mild little Franny actually took a knife to you? That can't be true!'

'I swear to God she's not playing with a full deck!' Stefan said. 'And it was all over the fact that she thought I was carrying on with my secretary.'

'So obviously you are denying that you did,' Geraldine said. 'So, who's the mysterious woman who keeps cropping up in photographs? The ones that appear in the farming magazines?'

Stefan frowned and then went over to the minibar to make himself another drink. 'I don't suppose you want one?'

'No, Stefan I don't want a drink; I just want the truth.'

Stefan nodded as he picked up the Cinzano bottle. 'Actually, that's quite a good line, I'll have to remember it. You don't want a drink; you want the truth! Well, why not have both? But for the life of me, I can't place this mysterious woman you're referring to.'

'She was wearing a mink according to Franny,' Geraldine said sitting down on the sofa.

' _Oh him!'_ Stefan said with realisation. It was his turn to laugh.

'Him? What do you mean?' she enquired piqued at his hilarity.

'That so-called woman is Neville my press officer and he's as male as I am, but he wears long hair and I think he's gay, but I've never asked.'

Geraldine shook her head. 'Well, it seems that you can claim anything you like and there isn't much I can do to prove otherwise.'

'Not a problem, I'll get him to phone you if you like,' Stefan said taking a swig of his drink. 'The loveliest guy you could ever meet!'

Geraldine stood up unconvinced and went upstairs. 'Goodnight!'

' _Hey, don't I get a goodnight kiss?'_ Stefan called but Geraldine chose not to reply.

****

Geraldine once again slept alone in her own bed and Stefan didn't bother her. He remained in her mother's bedroom. At one point during the night she thought she heard him talking to someone and assumed that he was on his mobile phone. Once again it pricked her paranoia.

When she arose in the morning, she could smell bacon frying in the kitchen. Stefan was obviously up again, although she didn't know if he was going to work or not. His hours seem to be very irregular. She got washed and dressed and came down to a nice breakfast all served up with cutlery on the kitchen table. 'Is that for me?'

' _No it's for Neville!'_ Stefan said with a loud laugh. _'Oh Neville, you can come out now!'_

'Oh shut up!' Geraldine said under her breath.

'I heard that!' Stefan stated with a charming smile. His perfect teeth seemed to glitter in the morning sun which came in through the slats of the window blind. 'Oh, Geraldine, Geraldine!'

'This is too much food!' she protested looking down at her plate.

'Well don't eat it darling,' he replied as he knotted his tie. He checked his watch. 'I'm running late.'

She looked up at him. 'Get Neville to phone me!' she suddenly said. 'What time are you coming home?'

'It depends,' he replied evasively. 'And yes, I'll speak to Neville and ask him to give you a courtesy call. _Ciao sweetie!'_ Then he was gone. Geraldine listened as his car roared off down the country lane.

About four hours later her phone rang but the number was unknown. She answered it fully expecting it to be Neville or perhaps someone pretending to be him, but it was Franny.

' _Franny?'_ Geraldine said in surprise. 'My phone didn't recognise your number!'

'It's because I'm using William's,' Franny replied. 'The battery on mine is playing up.'

'Oh, okay, well I suppose you're phoning to say you're off then?' Geraldine guessed.

'We're going the day after tomorrow first thing,' her friend told her. 'I just wanted to check that you're still okay about watching the house and to see if you're alright.'

'Yes, I'm fine, I think,' Geraldine answered. 'But I've got a distraction anyway. Larkford is being renovated and I'll be staying at the Oathouse for the duration.'

Franny took this all in. _'Renovated?_ I bet that's going to cost you a pretty penny?'

'Stefan is paying,' Geraldine replied. 'Actually, I forgot to tell you that he's bought the house!'

There was a pregnant pause at the other end of the line. _'No way!_ You mean you've actually sold Larkford to Stefan?'

'Yup!'

'But I thought you'd never sell it. _Larkford's the love of your life, isn't it? After Johnny Leonard of course.'_

'That was a bit low!' Geraldine stated.

'Sorry, but you know what I mean,' Franny corrected herself. 'But you could have stayed at our house rather than the Oathouse. We'll be away for a couple of months and you could have had the run of the place.'

'I didn't think,' Geraldine replied. But actually, that was the first thing she had thought of. However, Stefan had stepped in without consulting her and made arrangements with Farmer Withers to rent the Oathouse. 'And at some point, we're going to stay at Stefan's apartment in France.'

'Hmm,' Franny said. 'Nice.'

'No Paris!' Geraldine said with a laugh.

It took Franny a second to get the joke. 'Oh, very good! So, when is all this work going to take place?'

'As soon as Stefan can arrange it. It will be his firm doing it. But as you know Larkford is a Grade 2 Listed building so he will have to find out what the building restrictions are.'

'Oh lord, that sounds like it will involve a lot of faffing around,' Franny observed. 'Well, the best of luck with that!'

'And have a great holiday!' Geraldine said and they hung up. She sat for a moment and felt that their relationship had turned a corner for the worse. In fact, Geraldine was inclined not to believe a word her friend had said about Stefan. There was a distinct undercurrent of jealousy there. It was clear that Franny had some sort of an axe to grind and that she was doing her best to destroy Stefan in Geraldine's eyes.

Whilst Geraldine was still harbouring a certain amount of ill will towards Stefan, she was beginning to think that some of it was unfounded. Her reaction to him had been mainly emotional, but that may have been unfair to him. As a person he seemed quite decent, kind and understanding. He hadn't exactly tried to rape her yet, had he?

It was while she was scurrying around gathering things for her imminent stay at the Oathouse, that she heard someone knock on the front door. She paused wondering who it could be. It certainly wasn't Stefan or Franny and wondered if it was farmer Withers. Their paths were certainly due to cross at some point.

She went downstairs preparing herself for a possibly awkward conversation with the farmer and was shocked to find Johnny Leonard on her doorstep. He was wearing his RAF uniform and looked quite dashing with a newly acquired tan. He was thinner too. He smiled at her. 'Oh hi,' he said simply.

' _Johnny what are you doing here?'_ she managed to ask. Her heart began to beat quite fast but not because she was delighted to see him. Quite the reverse; she felt a twinge of nervousness. It was hard to fathom why.

'I'm now at RAF base Windleton, which is down the road,' he said. 'Well, twenty miles down the road actually.'

'I've heard of it. I expect you would like to come in,' she said stepping back from the door.

He gave her a strange look. 'Oh, is there a problem with that?'

'Well...' Geraldine began.

They stood awkwardly in the hallway and then he tried to kiss her, but she pulled away. Staring at him she said, 'Would you like some coffee? How did you get here?' She walked towards the kitchen.

'I came by foot from the station,' he replied following her.

'Right.'

He stared at her. 'Are you okay?'

She smiled at the question. How insensitive some men could be. Didn't he realise what he had done, that he had almost destroyed her when he jilted her? A few months ago he had meant so much to her, meant the world to her, but now he was just like a shadow from the past. A horrible memory even. _'Am I okay?'_ she repeated.

He nodded. 'Well, I mean, when I learnt about your mother's passing, I was upset for you.'

'Thank you.' She began to make a fresh brew of coffee. 'I suppose I am okay. And you look well.'

'I am and I'm not,' he said sheepishly. 'I've been through a lot recently, as you probably know.'

Geraldine looked at him blankly. She hadn't the faintest idea what he had been through or particularly cared. He was just a stranger now. 'Actually, I've had my mind on other things.'

'Oh,' he said. 'Oh, well that's good. So, you're still ticking over then?'

She nodded. 'Definitely ticking over. Couldn't be better in fact.'

He nodded but didn't seem too pleased at her answer. 'That's good, I wish I could say the same.'

Geraldine nodded as she felt a slight thrill of satisfaction at his words. Perhaps he had been jilted too and now had come back with his tail between his legs? However, whatever sympathy she would have felt for him before simply wasn't there. It seemed that all feeling for him had been drained from her. She also wished that Stefan was around to defend her honour. Clearly, Johnny Leonard took her for a fool if he thought he could just breeze back into her life again.

He was looking at her quizzically. 'You seem different,' he observed.

'Do I?' she answered. 'Well, I was just wondering how you are. I mean, you're married now aren't you?'

This stopped him in his tracks. 'Married? Oh that.'

'You said in your last letter to me that you have found, I quote, _the love of your life_ and wanted to marry her!'

'Ah, hastily written,' he said.

'Really?' she replied as she recalled all the nights she had wept at the thought of losing him to some other woman. But now she couldn't have cared less. Actually, the sooner he went the better, she had things to do.

He moved closer and stared into her eyes, but his own eyes seemed tired and jaded, like a man at odds with himself. 'See, it was always really you. When I was with her, I only thought of you.'

Geraldine looked down at the floor and then took a deep breath. 'So, you didn't get married then?'

'Lord no,' he said with a weak smile. 'How could I when I was still in love with you?'

'Ah,' she responded noncommittally. She wondered how she would have reacted if Stefan hadn't been in her life. Would she have melted over Johnny like an ice-cream cone? A few months back having Johnny come back to her had been a fantasy. She had yearned for it. But now she felt like laughing in his face. 'Well I don't know what to say.'

'Don't say anything,' he said putting his hand into his jacket pocket and pulling out a frayed envelope. He carefully opened it and extracted a ring. It glittered at her sweetly.

'What's that?' she asked unnecessarily.

'Geraldine,' he said getting down on one knee on the kitchen floor. 'Will you marry me?'

She just stared at him, dumbfounded at the man's audacity, as if he thought she had been waiting for him to come back to her. Clearly, he hadn't spotted the wedding ring already on her own finger. She brought her hand around so that it was level with his eyes.

He blinked in shock. 'Oh my God!' he exclaimed. 'You're...you're...'

'Yup!' she replied.

'That was quick work!' he said as he slowly rose. 'I mean, how? When?'

'You didn't ask why,' she replied.

There was bewilderment in his face. 'Is this a joke?'

She pulled away from him and went to the garden door. 'Johnny, please give me some credit. Why on earth would I joke about a thing like this? You left me, remember? You sent me a letter calling off the engagement, remember? You refused to take my call when I phoned you at the base that time, remember?'

'I was confused,' he said.

'As I was,' she replied. 'I was very confused indeed. I couldn't understand what I had done wrong. What I had done to deserve such disrespect!'

'Respect had nothing to do with it,' he said. 'So, you found someone else and got married? Who is he?'

'I don't know if I want to tell you,' she replied.

Johnny seemed shocked at this answer. 'Why? What do you mean?'

Geraldine sighed. She was wishing she hadn't let him in. 'Johnny it's over. And you ended it!' Even as she said these words, she realised that the love she once had for Johnny had been transferred to Stefan. She was astonished at her own emotional dexterity.

Johnny was just staring at her as if he was about to burst into tears, but of course RAF men didn't do that sort of thing. 'But the ring. It cost me nearly two hundred pounds,' he said.

'Take it back, say it didn't work out,' she replied insensitively.

'But...' he said unable to find words.

'Johnny, you really hurt me,' she said. 'To be honest I even considered suicide. Suicide! Can you imagine that?'

Johnny approached her again. 'Geraldine please forgive me. But I was under pressure at the base. We were testing new aircraft hardware and I was part of the operational crew.'

'Oh really? And it made you forget all about me?' she said. 'So, who was she, the woman you were going to marry? What was her name?'

'It doesn't matter now, she's gone. I transferred away from her.'

Geraldine shook her head. 'Not good enough Johnny. Now I want you to leave and take your ring with you.'

He was obviously dumbfounded at her cold rejection, but there was pique in his eyes. 'You're being unreasonable!'

' _I don't think so, just go!'_

Still protesting, he left, and she watched him from an upper window as he walked down the winding lanes to the nearby railway station. But in a way his visit had been useful. It had opened her eyes to her real feelings for Stefan. Stefan had a light heartedness which Johnny lacked. It was a nicer energy to be around, if somewhat intimidating sometimes. However as glorious as these revelations were, they were painful at the same time. The big thorn in the side of their relationship was the fact that Stefan played away. Or at least there was anecdotal evidence in the form of Franny's account that said he did. But perhaps he didn't at all. Perhaps the mysterious woman in the mink coat was really a man as Stefan had said. She would earnestly like to talk to him.

Also, the thought that he might be involved with other women hurt Geraldine's feelings and this was proof that she cared. If she didn't care, she wouldn't have given a damn who he was seeing.

She had gone into her mother's bedroom to tidy up when she suddenly couldn't hold back her feelings any longer. She just suddenly ripped all the blankets from Stefan's bed and threw them on the floor and then kicked over the chair. The sound of her anger echoed all over the house. There was a funny contrasting silence outside as if everyone was listening to her, except the nearest neighbour was a mile away. She went to the window and looked out, but the birdsong had returned.

However, there was no doubt in her mind, that she loved Stefan. She loved him! And she couldn't be without him. She went to the bed and flopped onto it and stared at the ceiling. Johnny's visit had tired her. She closed her eyes and tried to push her mind in another direction. But thoughts of Stefan forced their way back in. He couldn't be kept out. Where Johnny once had been in the prime position, he was now cast aside, unwanted.

After a little while, she got up and tidied Stefan's bed up and then went downstairs and made herself a sandwich and had a glass of whiskey with it. The acrid liquor made her cough. It was then that she heard Stefan's car from a distance racing up the lanes and pull to a mad stop in front of the house. She could hear his footsteps crunching on the gravel, and he came around the back of the house.

He bowled in, wearing a grey suit which she had never seen before. He must have purchased it in town or something. She looked at him with intense curiosity. But seeing him only gladdened her heart. There was no room for any other feeling.

'Hello there, Mrs Lafonte!' he said, but his tone was funny.

'Hello back,' she replied. She had an impulse to grab him and beg him to stay and never go out again.

He looked at her strangely. 'And what's the matter with you?'

'Me nothing,' she replied, her heart beating hard. 'Nothing at all.'

He nodded. 'Just a quick question. Johnny Leonard was in the RAF, wasn't he?'

Geraldine was rooted to the spot. ' _Why did you ask that?'_

'Had an interesting conversation today, this evening actually with an RAF man standing at the station waiting for a blessed train. I came in on the fifteen minutes past and he was waiting for the one going the other way. But all the ones going in the opposite direction had been cancelled, poor man. Victim of the Northern Powerhouse which will never be!'

She nodded. 'Oh?'

'Hmm,' Stefan said coming up to her and looking her hard in the eyes.

'What?' she said.

'Nothing,' he replied almost sullenly.

'No, you asked me that question for a reason,' she said. 'Are you suggesting that Johnny Leonard might have been here?'

He frowned and slowly took off his tie. 'Had he?'

'Are you jealous Stefan?'

He snorted. _'Don't start playing that game!'_

'To be honest, yes, he was,' she said.

He nodded. 'I appreciate you telling me.'

He just called out of the blue,' she explained.

He rubbed his forehead. 'And did you do the deed?'

She blinked not quite taking in his meaning. 'The deed?'

'Yes, did you sleep with him? It's a simple question.'

Geraldine's reaction was slow to this question but then she realised he wasn't joking. _'Are you for real? What kind of a person do you take me for?_ ' In a fit of sudden temper, she picked up the small whiskey glass that she had just drunk from and threw it at him. It hit him on the side of his neck and glanced off.

He stood perfectly still but his face tensed, and he advanced on her and gripped her wrists. His eyes became dark and colourless and his own anger was now apparent. His grip on her hardened and she became fearful that he was going to attack her. _'You're mad!'_ he said. _'And you've made me very upset.'_

' _Me? Making you upset?'_ she queried bravely. _'You're the one who goes sleeping around!'_

Stefan snorted. 'You need to go to bed now!'

'I'll go when I'm ready.'

At these words his eyes widened angrily, but this was enough for Geraldine. She flew out of the room and ran upstairs.

' _I will want a full explanation in the morning!_ ' he shouted up at her. _'Everything he said to you!'_

' _Go to hell!_ ' she shouted back from the sanctuary of her bedroom and then quickly locked the door. At least for the moment she was safe.

She had a quick wash, changed into her nighty and jumped into bed. But sleep did not come straight away. She tossed and turned all night wondering how the situation would play out. However, at the end of the day, she was convinced that she had found her man. He was a devil around women, a cheat and a liar, but he hadn't laid a finger on her. He had grabbed her certainly, but then she had thrown a glass at him. He was strong, strict but gentle, a pussycat! As far as men went, Johnny Leonard couldn't compare. Despite being in the RAF, Johnny seemed to be half the man Stefan was. Johnny was weak and his limitations were now obvious to her. Stefan by comparison was a mature, intelligent, strong, reliable person against whom she could lean.

He had also managed to snap her out of her dependence on prescription drugs which she hadn't touched for a while, and he had made her smile again. She recalled that when she was with Johnny, all he did was moan about the accommodation on the base. Probably and eventually any love she had felt for him would have petered out. He would have bored her to death. But Stefan was a different kettle of fish by far. He had a dynamism and a fierce energy which crackled under the surface like electricity.

However, she knew in the long run it would be detrimental to their relationship. She knew other women would always find him attractive, which would continually be the bugbear in their relationship. There was also the fear that he would move on one day when he tired of her. And she wasn't going to hang around waiting for that to happen. She needed to steel herself and stick to her guns. In the game of chicken, she was determined not to blink first. On a matter of principle she would have to be the one to take the initiative and leave. The love she felt for him would have to be sacrificed.

### Chapter Ten

She deliberately stayed in bed until Stefan had safely gone off to work and realised that she still had no idea where his main office was based. Was it Dover? Paris? She also noted that he didn't offer to make her any breakfast or had hung around to say goodbye. Surely this was evidence that she had overstepped the mark. Well to hell with him, she thought feistily. Other quite strong words also came into her mind which her mother would never have approved of.

Geraldine sat drinking coffee, overwhelmed by her own circular thinking on the matter and then she knew what she had to do. Leave Larkford straight away. As fantastic and unlikely that this idea was, it was the only thing to do. If only to make a point and then maybe she would come back if he begged her to. It would be like a test. She no longer owned the property and had enough money to live the 'life of Reilly' as her mother used to say.

Without further ado she packed a suitcase with some essentials and a few dresses and decided to go on a spending spree. It would help clear her head. Shopping was great therapy as well she knew. She'd find a hotel room somewhere as far away from Stefan as she could get and then plan the rest of her life. Coming back was an option she would leave open. For no particular reason she chose Manchester. From what she had heard it was a great town and an excellent place to start over. It had a great mayor. She had deliberately not left a note to make Stefan sweat. Let him do the worrying for a change, she thought.

Determined to carry out her hairbrained plan, she took a cab and train to Manchester and chose the first decent-looking hotel she came across.

She then ordered room service and stood looking out of the hotel window onto the bustling street scene below. The urban energy reached up to her and was something she wasn't used to being around, as she was based in the country. It had a calming effect despite being noisy and busy. She wondered how Stefan would react when he returned home. Would her absence bewilder him, make him angry? Would he call the police after a certain amount of time had elapsed? Obviously, he would phone her on her mobile first, so she would need to block his number. But she was amazed at her own actions and suddenly had cold feet about them. Perhaps she was a bit mad, she thought.

The question was, would he bother to try and track her down, and beg her to return? But would she go, she wondered. Would he, for that matter, even beg her to return? There was also no doubt in her mind that what she had done was a bit reckless. Stefan might be led to think of all sorts of different scenarios. He might think she had been kidnapped!

By the time her chicken sandwich and beer was brought up, she knew that she really needed to phone Stefan and tell him what was going on. Leaving him was one thing, but he needed to know what was in her mind.

She looked for her cell phone in the suitcase and then realised that she had left the charger at home. Darn it! There was still some power on it, but then why waste it on Stefan. Let him phone her. Perhaps blocking his number was a bad idea.

Then to her utter amazement, the land line in her hotel room rang and a man with a thin Yorkshire accent said, 'Can I speak to Geraldine Ryans please? This is Neville Barnes; I work for Stefan Lafonte!'

Geraldine held her breath and then quickly put down the phone in shock. It simply wasn't possible. How on earth did they trace her so quickly? The phone rang again, and she answered it as her curiosity got the better of her. _'Yes!'_ she said smartly.

'Oh, hi, this is Neville, Stefan said you wanted to talk to me.'

'Neville? _Oh Neville!_ How did you get this number?' she asked.

'I arrived at your local train station earlier today and got a taxi to your house. The driver said he had picked you up earlier and that you told him you were going to Manchester. So I've been phoning around the hotels for the last hour.'

Geraldine was stumped. 'Neville? But why were you coming to see me?'

'Stefan said it was important, to put your mind at rest,' the man said.

'Well, I've left him and I'm not coming back!' she stated.

'Oh don't do that, not over me,' Neville said. 'Not just because you saw that photograph of me in that magazine standing next to him.'

'It's not over you, well partly,' she confessed.

Then to add to her bewilderment he began to cry.

' _Neville, what the hell?'_

Neville sobbed down the phone. 'I'm sorry, but Stefan has been so good to me like an older brother. He picked me up when I was on the street and he brought me back to health.'

' _Neville there's no need to cry!'_

'Look, I'll need to tell Stefan where you are. So, I'm going to ring off now and phone him,' Neville said, and the phone clicked off.

Geraldine sat staring at the receiver in her hand. Whatever next! She was expecting Stefan to ring back straight away but the phone remained inert for some while. She debated whether to take a walk around town to offset some of her nervousness.

Then just after seven the phone in her room rang again. This time it was Stefan.

' _Geraldine? What's going on?'_

'Stefan, I'm not coming back. I'm leaving you,' she said in one breath.

'Well you could have left a note or something.'

'I know I'm sorry, so I'm telling you now. It's over.'

His response was to not reply for several seconds.

'Stefan are you still there?'

'Yes. Look, you spoke to Neville, didn't you? Doesn't that convince you of anything?'

'We didn't really talk,' she replied.

' _Well,_ we _need to clear the air._ I need to understand what's bothering you,' he said.

'It's complicated,' she replied.

'Who've you been talking to?'

'No one,' she said. 'I have to go.' And she hung up. She wasn't prepared to allow her feelings to be examined under the microscope. Not yet at any rate, she had only just arrived.

She was disturbed that Stefan's voice of reason had made her want to return to Larkford. He just seemed to have that magnetic quality about him. She had already booked the room for a week, but she thought that even that would be too long.

Glancing over at her half-finished chicken sandwich, she realised that she was still hungry, but the bread had already begun to curl. She went to the window again and looked down at the busy city and wondered about the lives of the people on the street. Apart from a homeless woman, they all knew what they were doing and where they were going with their lives. As far as she was concerned, she had reached a cul-de-sac, and that was only after a couple of hours. She was tempted to order some more food but sat down in the armchair and idly played with the room's tv remote control. She noted that they had different soaps in Manchester!

Before she knew it, she had dosed in her chair, only to be woken up by a tap on her door. She came to and wondered who it could be, assuming it was probably a member of staff. Getting to her feet she went and opened the door slightly and was electrified to see Stefan standing there in casual clothes. He must have hopped on the next train up there.

' _Stefan!'_ she said stupidly.

'I came up with Neville who is downstairs having some supper,' Stefan said.

Geraldine was so overcome at his appearance that she leaned against the door frame to stop herself falling.

'Can I come in?' he requested.

She stood back and let him pass and closed the door. 'Why are you here?'

'Don't ask silly questions,' he said giving her a dark look. 'I think I understand. Johnny Leonard came up to see you and poured cold water on our marriage. It all makes perfect sense!'

She gaped at him. 'He wasn't too happy it.'

'So is that why you are in Manchester?' Stefan continued. 'Going to meet him? Or have you met him? I note that you only have a single room.'

Geraldine shook her head. The man could be so wrong, but what he was suggesting was convenient for the moment. 'That's my business,' she said.

'So are you telling me that it's back on with Johnny? The man who dumped you for another woman?'

'Johnny and I...' she began but refused to clarify the situation. It was a stubbornness which did not do her any favours.

'If you leave me, you'll lose sight of your house,' Stefan said.

Geraldine frowned at his odd expression. 'I don't care,' she replied. But of course she didn't mean that. Not in a million years would she ever forsake her beloved Larkford, even if Stefan did now own it.

'So Johnny Leonard is the one for you then?' Stefan enquired with a sigh. 'You're certain about that?'

'I said it's complicated,' she replied. As she said these words, she hardly understood her own rationale. It was there somewhere, but quickly losing ground to her feelings for Stefan. Actually, she had grown bored with the game she was playing and simply wanted to start again. She went to the window and drew the curtains, but when she turned back, he was gone.

She could hear him striding down the stone floored hallway of the hotel towards the lift. In her mind she had wanted to be convinced to come home again. But the chance had now slipped through her fingers as did the man she knew she loved.

As she stood staring at the door, she realised that she was in shock and that she had overplayed her hand. She debated whether she should run after him down the corridor. He was bound to think her an absolute fool if she did that. But she really needed to understand where she intended to go with this; and what was she upset about anyway? Was it that she didn't want him to be the one to leave her first? Was this a pride issue? She was more confused than ever.

She went to the window again and pulled aside the curtain hoping to see Stefan's car, but he must have driven off in another direction. Then again, perhaps he had come up by train? Surely that would have been the more sensible thing to do. And she would have liked to have met Neville.

It wasn't an altogether bad thing that Stefan thought she was still smitten with Johnny Leonard. It would serve him right, going off with women behind the scenes. She was absolutely certain he did. She looked at her wristwatch and decided to go to bed and start making plans in the morning. Her problem was not a money one, but a question of making some important life choices. But as she tried to get used to the uncomfortably hard bed, she realised that she might have made a mistake. She drifted off, her mind full of thoughts of Stefan and some of his funny facial expressions.

****

She was awoken the next morning by a knock on her door and a foreign woman's voice in the hallway saying, 'Don't miss breakfast, you've still got twenty minutes!'

Geraldine jumped to it, had a super quick wash and went downstairs via the lift to join the several other guests who were queuing at a buffet. The eggs and bacon looked quite scrumptious although admittedly the toast was cardboard-like. The breakfast area was particularly nice and cheerful and despite her mood of uncertainty, she smiled at a nice elderly couple who had come down from Scotland. They were just ahead of her in the queue.

'Manchester is the future!' the gentleman said in a broad Scottish accent. 'My son has a thriving florists business here. Lovely people the Mancunians!'

Geraldine told them that she was looking for a house to buy but didn't go into too many details. However, she chose not to sit too close to them as the man was a chatty type. She sat down by a large picture window looking out over a quadrangle and tried to focus on her objectives. She wondered what Stefan would do in the circumstances, but it was her bed and she had to lay on it. Then after enjoying her full English breakfast, which included mushrooms and black sausage, she went back to her room feeling stuffed to the gills. The hotel was clearly determined to give customers their money's worth.

To her delight, the chambermaid had made her bed, pulled back the curtains and opened the window. Geraldine made a point to seek out the domestic and give her a tip. The sun was up and cast it's bright golden light into the room making her feel a bit more optimistic. She was still young, she had money and there was no earthly reason why she should be feeling depressed. Over a man? It was ridiculous. History repeating itself.

She sat on the bed and then laid back against the plumped-up pillows, when there was another knock on her door. She hoped it was the chambermaid so that she could tip her. She swung her feet off the bed and went to answer it. Her jaw dropped when she saw Stefan standing there in a polo neck jumper and jeans. His eyes were pensive. 'Can I come in?'

Her heart literally jumped at the sight of him and she stepped back to let him in. 'Why are you here?'

He folded his arms. 'To make sense of all this nonsense!' he replied.

Geraldine just stood staring at him as her emotions did somersaults. There was no doubt that she was glad to see him again. 'It may be nonsense to you, but it isn't to me!'

'I understand,' he said. 'There are issues which you haven't resolved and so perhaps I can help.'

As she looked at him, she noticed a dark mark on his forehead. 'What's that on your head? she enquired.

Stefan touched his head briefly. 'That's where a squaddie hit me last night.'

' _What?'_ she exclaimed in surprise. 'What do you mean?'

Stefan went to the window and looked down at the street and then turned to her. 'I found out where Johnny Leonard's base was and went and had a few words. But the RAF don't take too keenly to civilians having a go at their men. So, I was unceremoniously kicked off the base. I walked right into the mess hall before they realised I shouldn't be there.'

Geraldine didn't know what to say. 'You actually went to see Johnny?'

'Well, I'd met him before at the station, didn't I? So, I thought having a manly chat was only reasonable.'

'A manly chat about what?'

'Mind if I sit down,' he said taking the chair by the window. 'See in case you've forgotten, _you and I are married,_ and I will not take kindly to anyone trying to interfere with that!'

She nodded and then sat down on the corner of the bed opposite him. Despite herself, she was impressed. Here was a man who was prepared to fight for her. But surely Johnny must have told him that she had rejected his advances. 'And so you and he had a fight?'

'No, he got his pals to throw me off the base,' Stefan said with a laugh. 'He didn't want to get his own hands dirty. But he told me everything and so the journey was worth it. Although the thump from that young RAF man damn well hurts!'

She stood up, her instinct to attend to his forehead, but he waved her down. 'I'm sorry that happened on my account!' she said.

He shrugged. 'Well at least I know the facts, and I misjudged you. I'm assuming he was telling me the truth, that nothing happened when he came to see you the other day. I'm sorry. Very sorry that it caused you to flee from Larkford.'

She looked at him levelly. 'I didn't flee.'

He shook his head. 'Well you left in a hurry then.'

'I might have done that,' she admitted.

He took a long thoughtful breath like a parent trying to understand a wayward child. 'But why?'

She pursed her lips. She wasn't even sure her reasons had any validity. 'There are a couple of issues as you know.'

'Well, I know you don't want me in the way a wife should want her husband,' he said. 'And you clearly despise my lifestyle.'

She sat down on the corner of the bed again. 'I don't despise you,' she said in a very small voice.

'Well that's a relief,' he said with a smile. 'But do you resent the fact that I've bought your house?'

'No.'

He nodded. 'Okay, well at least we've established two things. So, what's the third?'

'What make you think there are only three reasons?' she said contrarily.

'How many are there then? Let's get them out into the open.'

She stood up and walked around the room. 'Look Stefan, I don't care for this approach you have, just assuming you have the right to question me.'

He nodded and looked down. He appeared almost beaten by her stubbornness. For a moment her heart went out to him. But for the life of her she couldn't articulate what her problem really was. It all seemed so stupid really. And he had been a positive force around the house and in her life. He may have had machismo, but he did get things done. He also appeared to respect her.

She was sure that his reasons for marrying her had nothing to do with material gain, or possessing Larkford, and that he probably did love her. But was love the same for men as it was for women? Or did he just see her as a convenient sexual object? If he did, then he had certainly kept himself under control.

Then there was his concern for the wellbeing of her house. He wasn't about to let it disintegrate. And admittedly this may have been because he had bought it and so there was self-interest. However, he appeared to be doing it for her. And he always referred to it as their house or her house as if he was intent on including her in his life indefinitely. Perhaps she had really underestimated him and his motives. She had no real proof that he was a womaniser, or a philanderer and Franny's tales may have been a trifle exaggerated.

'Look, I'm not a mind reader, but I believe if you get these things off your mind, you'll feel better,' he said interrupting her thoughts.

She folded her arms and looked down at him still in the chair by the window. 'I have to admit to being head over heels in love with Johnny. And it crucified me when he threw me over,'

'I can understand that,' Stefan said looking at her with a sympathetic face.

'At the time he was everything to me,' she said. 'And I was even contemplating giving up Larkford and going to live with him on the base, using Larkford as a second home.'

'So in a way you were probably still committed to him when you met me,' Stefan said.

'I was hoping he would return,' she replied.

At these words Stefan stood up and came towards her. He placed his hands on her arms and looked deeply into her eyes. 'And you clung on to that hope for some while, I presume?'

She nodded and pulled away. 'Don't start pawing me please.'

He dropped his hands. 'Sorry!'

'Look, I was very committed to Johnny,' she said. 'And that's how I get with people. I'm sincere.'

'Well so am I, _damn it!'_ he said giving her an enquiring look. 'Geraldine I am having a hard job understanding where you're coming from. And as we are officially married, the least you can do is put me out of my misery and explain yourself properly. Why did you storm off?'

She looked back at him lost for words. She knew how she felt but putting it across to him seemed hard. To tell him the truth would have been too revealing. 'I didn't storm off. _I left you.'_

Stefan shook his head. 'Surely they are one and the same thing?'

'Storming off implies I might return, but I've gone for good!'

He was growing impatient. 'Frankly, I don't believe that. You're still emotionally attached to Larkford.'

'I'm severing all connections with it!'

'God!' Stefan said going to the dresser in the room and slapping the top. 'Can you hear yourself?'

She held up her hand. 'You don't have to throw a fit. I'm trying to explain to you the best I can.'

'Hmm!'

She sighed. 'I know what you're going to do in a few months' time.'

He knotted his brow. 'Oh, you do? And what, pray tell is that?'

'You're going to dump me, that's what I believe.'

'Really? But I thought you wouldn't actually mind that?' he said.

'So you're saying _you probably will dump me then?'_

'No,' he said. 'I married you for keeps! I'm committed to you, even if I actually end up getting committed myself!'

She couldn't help smile at that. 'Very funny. But seriously I couldn't face being dumped a second time. It was horrific enough when Johnny Leonard did it to me!'

Stefan looked down and then his expression changed as he understood what she was trying to tell him. 'I know I did threaten to do that, dump you. But I was just talking for the sake of expediency. And I apologise. From what you're saying then, if I did do that, it would matter to you?'

She threw her head back as if she was about to laugh but her face settled into a glum expression and she just stared at him. 'Yes, it would matter, a lot.'

Although she was speaking in a quiet voice, every nook and cranny in the room seemed attentive to her nuances. In fact, the whole hotel had fallen silent and she felt as if it was just those two in it.

Stefan wiped the perspiration on his cheek. He was sweating. 'Ok, so I matter to you?'

'Yes.'

'So you can't run away then? You can't leave me then?'

'Logically you could say that,' she said. 'I'm finding it hard to be strong.'

He approached her again, but she held up her hand. 'No don't. This isn't resolved.'

'But at least we seem to be getting somewhere,' he replied. 'And I have to tell you that you matter a lot to me. Perhaps you are the only thing that matters to me.'

'Thing?' she queried with a frown.

'You know what I mean,' he said. 'But we can't just leave this hanging in the air. We need to reach an understanding. Obviously, we have been at cross purposes.'

She looked at him. 'What do you suggest? Changing your ways and becoming a new version of Stefan?'

'Why do I have to be the one who changes?' he said. 'Perhaps if your attitudes softened a bit it would help?'

'See that's the problem,' she said. 'All I'm doing is trying to protect myself. If I was any softer, I'd turn into a quivering jelly.'

He frowned at her remark. 'Just answer me this. Do you feel any love for me at all?'

She stared at him. 'Yes! I realise that I do love you, but I couldn't face your eventual rejection.'

Stefan gulped in some air. _'I can't believe my ears,'_ he replied running his hands through his hair. 'You're actually admitting to loving me?' Scales seemed to fall from his eyes, though he still uncomprehending.

'But the situation is an impossible one because I was told that you grow impatient, bored,' she said.

'You mean Franny has been telling you stories about me?'

She nodded. 'She seemed quite convincing. You almost went to the altar with her so she should know.'

'Franny is a money grabbing so and so!' Stefan said heatedly. 'She has an axe to grind. She probably really hates you for marrying me. I was supposed to _be her catch!'_

'And you ended up being mine instead? Is that what you mean?'

'It wasn't meant to sound like that,' he said. 'But she is an angry and disappointed woman who will drive us apart if you let her. She has already been chipping away at us and we have hardly got started.'

'It's not just what Franny is saying,' Geraldine said thoughtfully. 'It's the fact that you go off and I don't know where you are.'

'Geraldine, I just go to work like every other man! And I have to do a bit of travelling in my job.'

'But it makes me suspicious and afraid that you will meet someone,' she said.

'Meeting people is unavoidable in my line of work,' he replied. 'I run such a large enterprise that everything I do involves being in conferences and liaising with people. It's one of the hazards of the job. Ask Neville. He'll give you the low down.'

She nodded. 'I would like to speak to him.'

'That can easily be arranged,' Stefan said. 'I did actually bring him down the other day as you know. But let's cut to the chase. From what I can see you're basically afraid that I'm going to get tired of you. That's it in a nutshell, isn't it?'

She looked at him. 'I think you already are.'

'Do you think?' he said thoughtfully.

She nodded. 'You want your husband rights and I am denying them to you.'

'But surely in normal times they are what you want too?' he said.

'My experience of such things is limited,' she answered. 'I only really knew Johnny Leonard's love in _that_ way. But it wasn't entirely satisfying.'

'It wasn't?'

'No, he only thought of himself and what he could get, but I got used to it,' she said candidly. 'But I know for a fact that you are far more experienced than me, and I can't believe that you still don't have flings with available females.'

Stefan scratched his head. 'That's a double negative! But no, since I've met you, I have had no need for 'flings' as you put it. I am far too busy working!'

'But in your business, the restaurant business, you must be around women all the time,' she said pressing him.

'You'd be surprised how many men there are in the game,' he said with a smile. 'And Neville is my personal assistant. In fact, he was chuffed when I told him that he had been mistaken for a woman!'

Geraldine smiled at this. She was beginning to warm to Neville straight away. 'He seems to be a very sensitive sort of person.'

'Well, between me and you, I deliberately hire gay people, or people I think are gay because they are such brilliant workers. They seem to think they have to prove themselves to offset the existing stigma around them. But me, I say, live and let live!'

She nodded as a sudden thought came to her. 'You and Neville...you're not...?'

'What?' Stefan said giving her a curious look. 'Lord no, if you're saying what I think you mean!'

'Franny thought he was a woman, so he must be quite attractive,' she said.

'Yes, he is very feminine looking, I grant you,' Stefan replied shifting uncomfortably.

Geraldine seemed to accept his explanation. 'That may be so, but why does Neville have to go the whole hog and wear mink coats and stuff?'

'Is that what Franny said?'

'He was photographed in a mink coat with you and it appeared in a farming magazine!' she said. 'According to Franny.'

'But you didn't actually get to see that photograph yourself then?' he enquired.

'No,' she stared at him. 'So, I'm sort of having to believe what I'm being told.'

'Look, we'll arrange a get-together with Neville, and he'll set your mind at rest I promise.'

'But he would be in collusion with you,' she said perversely. 'You're his boss and he's going to say anything you tell him to say, isn't he?'

Stefan shrugged. 'I don't know what more I can suggest.'

'Franny isn't an idiot,' she said. 'Surely she wouldn't have mistaken a gay man for a woman!'

Stefan went to the window. 'We ought to go out and have a meal somewhere.'

'Don't change the subject,' she said.

He turned to her. _'It was Neville in the photograph I promise you! I guarantee it!_ But to be honest, I think a little bit of jealousy in a relationship is a good thing, as long as it doesn't become destructive.'

'Maybe you do, but I wouldn't want to live with it,' she replied. 'And yes, I admit I am a jealous person by nature. And I'm a bit jealous of Neville because he seems to get a lot of your attention!'

Stefan slapped his forehead in a comical way. 'Geraldine, Geraldine, you're seeing things which aren't there. Besides, Neville is actually already in a relationship and even if he was available to me, I wouldn't be interested. My interest is solely in you. I do not have any gay inclinations, but I respect people who have. I respect Neville but he is not my type! And there aren't any other woman apart from my accounts manager, but she is in her fifties and married.'

'So you are around some woman then?' Geraldine asked.

'Who in their workaday life isn't?' he said raising his voice slightly. 'You're friends with Franny's husband aren't you, but not for one moment would I think you're having an affair with him.'

'Really?' Geraldine said in a sincere tone of voice. 'Why not?'

'Geraldine please this isn't funny.'

'Who said it was funny?' she replied. 'But you have no idea what I'm really like any more than I know what you're like.'

'That's probably something we can agree on,' he said. 'But rest assured that I am not chasing anyone else. I'm strictly a one person at a time type of fellow. I don't need multiple distractions in my line of work. I found you and I want to stay married to you and I have no desire to dump you and go off with some floozy.'

'That's a bit sexist!' she said.

Stefan gave her a quizzical look. 'You're definitely on form today _my girl!'_

She sighed. It was true, she was playing a bit of a game with him but only to see what he would say. 'I have to be on form around you, Stefan.'

He shrugged. He was clearly growing tired of the conversation. 'So, are you happy now?'

'I still have a few questions about Neville.'

'Shoot!'

She looked down at her slippers. 'Tell me honestly, have you ever been tempted by him? Has he ever made any suggestions?'

'Suggestions?'

'Yes, has he ever _come on to you?'_ she asked pointedly.

Stefan grinned. 'I can't believe I'm having this conversation.'

'But the man dolls himself up, doesn't he?' she said. 'Perhaps he's doing it for you.'

'That's possible I suppose but he has never vocalised his interest,' Stefan answered obviously embarrassed by her questions. 'So, can we change the subject now?'

'Why do you seem so uncomfortable discussing this?' she asked getting him against the ropes.

'Look, Geraldine, I am a red-blooded male who likes women, and I really have genuine feelings for you and I only want to be with you? Capiche?'

She shook her head. 'So, are you saying that Neville isn't a red-blooded male also, as you put it?'

'Where are you going with this?' he asked brusquely.

'Stefan, you and I know that you are a very attractive man and I have confessed to loving you, but not just because of your looks,' she said. 'You also have a way with people, and you seem open to life in a way I am not. It's possible that you and Neville might have really clicked.'

' _God!_ ' Stefan said circumnavigating the hotel room and stopping at the door. 'Yes, we click, he is a great personal assistant, he is also a great cook.'

' _What?'_ Geraldine said almost jumping out of her skin. 'Has he cooked for you then? Where at his home, your apartment in France?'

' _Does it matter?'_

'Cooking for someone is an intimate act!' she declared. 'That tells me a lot. It tells me that you and he are quite close.'

'Okay then Sherlock tell me this, why did you even let Johnny Leonard in when he visited you the other day?'

'I could hardly turn him away, Larkford is way out in the country,' she replied.

'You could have said your piece to him at the door,' Stefan said going on the attack.

'I was taken by surprise and I didn't quite know what to do and I was curious to hear what he had to say,' she replied.

Stefan nodded his head and checked his watch. 'Okay, so let's call it a truce then.'

'You haven't answered my question yet,' she said. 'Where did Neville cook for you?'

'Does it matter? At my apartment; we were going over some paperwork and he offered to make a meal and he did a sort of pasta thing with cheese.'

She nodded. 'So, you remember it quite well then?'

'So what?'

'Has he ever cooked for you on other occasions?'

'He may have.'

' _He may have?'_ she said looking him firmly in the eye.

'Alright, perhaps several times,' Stefan admitted.

' _Oh my God!'_ Geraldine gasped, covering her mouth with her hand. 'Does he come to your apartment often?'

Stefan shrugged his shoulders. 'When we are in France, we work in the office in my apartment as I dislike going into the company's offices. I can't think when I am around too many people.'

She shook her head. 'It doesn't sound right to me.'

Stefan came over to her and put his hand gently on her arm. 'Geraldine please, you're reading too much into this. Neville is just my employee and he happens to have a good head for figures.'

' _I bet he does!'_ she replied with a shrill laugh.

'Geraldine, tell you what, if you are _that_ concerned, I will never have him back in my apartment again.'

'Yeah, I bet!'

'No, I'm serious, I'll get him his own apartment in Paris, and he can work from there if need be.'

' _You'll get him his own apartment?_ ' she repeated in disbelief. 'Is that supposed to make me feel better?'

'I can't win, can I?' he said at a genuine loss. 'Look, please, you are under a misapprehension. I mean, what's got into you? Do you really think I'm gay? Honestly! I just love you. I just want to be with you. When I'm away from you, all I think about is you. _You are the only damn thing I care about!'_

She bit her bottom lip. 'Stefan, it's your choice of words that I don't like sometimes!' She stared at him but still felt the pain of suspicion in her heart. He obviously lived a complex life and there was no telling what he really got up to. Talking to Neville would probably only deepen her suspicions.

Their conversation only seemed to raise more questions than it answered. It was interesting that he hadn't even mentioned that he had a personal assistant until Franny told her about the photograph in the farming magazine. It was also interesting that he hadn't pestered her for any bedroom favours lately. That only made her think that he was finding relief elsewhere. Perhaps she was driving him away into someone else's arms by her stance. If Neville was that pretty a man, then who knew what they got up to together?

Stefan suddenly grabbed her and forced her to sit next to him on the bed.

'Stefan please!'

'Geraldine, I'm not going to touch you,' he said. 'Let's just be calm.'

All her resistance suddenly left her, and she relented and rested against him. It was a good feeling; she couldn't deny it.

'Why are we talking about such rubbish?' he said in a quiet voice.

'It may be rubbish to you but it's not to me,' she answered. She closed her eyes as a wave of temporary contentment swept over her. If only Stefan wasn't so good-looking, she thought. Women and men were bound to fall into his path as a matter of course and where would she be?

'Look, the important thing is that we love each other,' he said. 'You've admitted it now and I've always wanted you.'

'Yes I do,' she replied. 'And I would be lying if I denied it, but I still want you to divorce me.'

'You're not making sense,' he said. 'On the one hand you say you couldn't face being dumped by me and yet you want a divorce! This can't be about money, can it? You've already done well from the sale of Larkford!'

'I just don't trust the future!' she said.

'Can I just say this – divorce is a crazy idea!' he stated. 'And I can only think that I should box Franny's and Johnny Leonard's ears for planting this seed of doubt in you. Not all men are like that idiot! You can't assume that what he did to you I'm going to do.'

She pulled away from him and stood up. 'It's no good. I just don't believe in promises any more. I want you to go now. Do what you want to Larkford, I don't care.'

'Geraldine don't say that. _You can't mean it,'_ he protested. 'Just give me a chance!' he stood up and held her again. She leaned away from him in an almost comical fashion.

'Men will say anything,' she replied. 'The situation with Neville has only confused me. I need to think.'

He took hold of her chin and turned her face towards him. 'Can't you see what this is doing to me?'

He looked deeply into his eyes and frankly couldn't fault his sincerity. He looked like a man who had discovered a gold mine but didn't know how to harvest its treasures. She knew that she could be that goldmine for the right man. And Stefan could be that right man, if only she didn't entertain such doubts about him. She knew on several levels that he was Mr Right but couldn't get passed the odd relationship he appeared to have with Neville. Or at least, it seemed odd to her. 'Stefan, I don't know what more to say.'

He made a helpless gesture. 'Look, I think we _are_ achieving something. Let's go out for a meal and continue our discussion. It's getting a bit oppressive in here.'

She wasn't altogether keen on the idea, but she realised that if they went out, it might be easier to get rid of him. She could just walk off. 'Okay,' she agreed her tummy rumbling anyway.

'Don't bother to get dressed up,' he said. 'You look perfect as you are! I know a great place here that does delicious Mexican food, La Casita! We'll go there and hopefully we'll get a table.'

****

As luck had it, there was a cancelled reservation at La Casita and Stefan and Geraldine took a small table at the back of the busy colourful restaurant. They ordered penne with avocado, tomato rice and a bottle of white wine. Geraldine had to admit that it was delicious. Stefan impressed her with his knowledge of Mexican food which he reckoned went back to the Aztecs. He also had quite a detailed knowledge of Mancunian eateries.

'I know you're just trying to distract me,' she said eventually. 'But I'm serious when I say I can't go back to you.'

Stefan frowned as he gazed at her across the table. 'I see. Well, I will say that I have had quite a time as a bachelor,' he said. 'But it's lonely. A man needs domestic continuum, a relationship which is meaningful. And I was hoping you'd provide it.'

She nodded as she ate her meal. 'I agree with that.'

'I'm glad and I have to say as far as I'm concerned it was love at first sight,' he replied. 'When I saw you, I knew you were the one.'

'That's what Johnny once said, but he obviously didn't mean it,' she answered as she waved her fork at him.

'Uh, must you mention his name?' Stefan said pulling a face.

'Hmm, well as I remember when I first saw you, you were talking to another woman at Franny's party,' she said.

'Was I?' he seemed genuinely puzzled.

'I always meant to ask you what you were talking about.'

Stefan had to think hard. 'Oh, she was fund raising for a cat charity and a very worthy cause it sounded too. I promised her a donation,'

'So you got in touch with her again?'

'Well, actually I forgot all about it and she wrote to my office and I sent her a cheque for fifty quid.'

' _The last of the big spenders, eh?'_ she couldn't help saying. 'So much for love at first sight.'

'What?'

'You said when you saw me at Franny's party it was love at first sight.'

'Believe me the moment I saw you I was completely under your spell!' he insisted.

'I believe you, _thousands wouldn't_!' she replied. 'But I wish you wouldn't make fun of me!'

Stefan's face darkened. ' _Who's making fun of you?_ Where did _that_ come from?'

'You know how vulnerable I am right now,' she said. 'Love at first sight never happens in real life, _you're just saying that!'_

He put his warm hand over hers. 'My darling Geraldine, you really need to trust me a bit more. I am not the rapacious rogue you seemed to believe I am. _I really need to have a few words with that Franny!'_

Geraldine sat eating in silence. Coming out to the restaurant was only making her feel that, despite her distrust of him, she didn't really want to part from him. The pleasant ambience of the restaurant was having an effect on her. 'Don't blame Franny, it's me.'

'Well, she hasn't helped,' he observed. 'Although, to be honest, you did look like a bit of a tough nut to crack when I first saw you. A lot of beautiful women are quite resistant to the offers of strange men.'

She thought back to her first meeting with Stefan and realised that she had been cold and reserved and had viewed him with suspicion. But it was typical of her to be like that, she thought. 'I suppose I'm not keen on strange men, especially if they _are a bit strange!'_ she quipped.

'Oh very good!' he said, although he wasn't really amused. 'I don't know how to take that.'

'I'm not saying you're strange as in funny peculiar!' she said. 'But you are still an unknown quantity to me, like Uranium or something.'

'Uranium, eh?' he replied. 'The _radioactive man!_ I like it!'

'But seriously, why was it that when I refused you what you wanted _that_ time, you went off the next day?' she asked.

He frowned again and took a sip of his wine. 'I told you I had an opening of a new restaurant in Paris that I had to attend. But I promise in future you can be a part of the business; come to any future openings if you want.'

'But at that time, did you go and see anyone because I refused to...cooperate with you in bed?' she asked.

'No, I didn't go seeking the company of women because you wouldn't sleep with me,' he said. 'I was busy. Busy, busy, busy and other women were the last things on my mind.'

'Okay, I'll give you _that_ one,' she said.

'Oh, thank you,' he replied. 'Any other questions. Let's get it all over with.'

'I don't understand why you nearly married Franny?' she said.

'I thought we talked about it. She was like a typical English rose and she was educated, and I have a thing for educated ladies. That's why I like you.'

'But Franny isn't your type, is she?' she said.

'I was blinded by her intelligence, but I have to admit not really loving her. Not like I love you.'

She sighed. He was saying all the right things for sure. She studied his expression carefully as he ate his meal. There was a crease of pain across his face which suggested that he meant what he said. But she also knew that he was slick, a smooth talker who probably had become successful because of his ability to charm and convince. It was, at the end of the day, all down to words and the power of them. 'Stefan, I want to believe you. I want to believe that you will always be true to me.'

'Then believe it,' he said. 'It is so simple.'

'Is it?' she replied with a shake of her head.

Stefan smirked. 'It is as easy as you want it to be. Let me make you a promise. I will always give you a detailed account of my activities and you can get involved with them on any level you please. I'll give you a job if you like and then you can see first-hand what's going on in my life.'

'Sounds good,' she replied but her tones was still doubtful.' She could see that he was earnestly trying, but she hoped that it wasn't all sham. 'Let's go back to the hotel.'

He looked at her as if trying to read her mind. 'Perhaps we can have a nightcap before I go back to Larkford.'

' _Perhaps you won't have to go!'_ she replied mysteriously.

****

When they arrived back at her hotel, there were several awkward moments. Geraldine wasn't fully sure why she had invited him back to her room; but Stefan took the lead in the conversation as he always did. She was standing at the window as he talked. Then she turned to him and smiled weakly at something amusing that he said.

He came over and took her in his arms. The wine had relaxed her. She responded in kind slipping her arms around his back and allowing him to kiss him. All her resistance, for the moment, had melted away as she decided that she had nothing to lose by trusting this man. The least she could do was give him another chance. He had convinced her of his sincerity in the restaurant. 'I just hope you don't let me down,' she said.

He held his head back. 'I would never dream of it.'

She leaned against him feeling a sort of sense of fulfilment. 'I don't think I could cope if you went off with someone else.'

He led her to the bed and removed her blouse. She didn't resist this time. It was apparent that his need for her was urgent. He sat down next to her and began to kiss her neck and cheek and then down to her full breasts. She found herself responding with an ever-increasing ardour.

She grabbed his manly chin and showered his face with kisses. It was as if she was discovering him for the first time. He responded by kissing her back deeply and passionately on the lips. 'Oh my darling,' he whispered hoarsely.

'Stefan, Stefan!' she murmured.

'Darling, I have waited so long,' he said as he breathed in her fragrant perfume. 'And my jealousy of Johnny Leonard has been a torture!'

She looked at him. 'Has it?'

'When I first saw him at the station the other day, I was impressed,' he said. 'He's a good-looking man and probably a brilliant airman.'

'Good looking and quite selfish I now realise,' she replied. 'How I wish I had met you first. Johnny Leonard has quite ruined the way I see things.'

'Then it will be my job to un-ruin them,' he said. 'Perhaps it was the fact that he was in the RAF that stole your heart in the first place.'

'Oh, he looks dapper in his uniform for sure,' she answered as she ran her hands through his hair.

He quickly removed her bra and began to mouth her breasts hungrily. 'I'll have to get one; a uniform I mean!' he said his voice full of desire for her.

She responded to his touch and pulled her closer to him. _'Stefan, I need you so badly!'_

He quickly ripped off his shirt and deftly removed her skirt and fell on her like a man starving for what he had been denied for so long. She returned his embraces with an equal ardour and their bodies seemed to meld into a heap of uncontrolled passion and delight. He evoked from her feelings which had been bottled up seemingly for years. Johnny Leonard had barely scratched the surface of her passion. There had been no joy in his lovemaking, just routine movements which were mostly mechanical. With Stefan it was altogether so much more natural, as if he was an extension of her. His response to her was intuitive and a complete revelation.

Finally, after she noisily climaxed, she found herself in a glorious mental space which was entirely new to her. She lay against the pillow of the hotel bed looking at Stefan curiously, who was panting from his energetic lovemaking. 'I'll have to think of a good nickname for you,' she said as she caught her breath.

'What about sex God?' he replied modestly.

' _Oh you!'_ She slapped him on the arm.

He smiled back at her; his face shiny with perspiration. 'I know what to call _you_!'

She frowned. 'What?'

'Easy rider!'

' _Come here!'_ she said grabbing him. 'But this hasn't settled anything. I'm still an orphan and a homeless one.'

He shook his head. 'Not the case. Actually, the real reason I came up to Manchester to see you is in my jacket.'

'Oh yes?'

He got up from the bed and went over to his jacket which had been thrown carelessly on a chair. He removed a folded piece of paper from his inside pocket and presented it to her. 'It's just a photocopy, but you'll get the picture.'

'What is it?' she asked intrigued, taking it and unfolding it. It was a copy of the title deeds to Larkford. She stared at it uncomprehendingly. 'I don't understand.'

'It's quite simple, not rocket science,' he replied. 'When you sold Larkford to me it was put into your name. Up to that point the deeds still bore your mother's name. Now you're the official owner and I'm the homeless one! I deliberately have kept my own name off the deeds! I want Larkford to remain your property!'

'But why?'

She smiled. 'My darling, ever heard that expression, _any friend of batman is a friend of mine_? Well any friend of Stefan Lafonte will never go empty handed. And any wife of Stefan is going to live the life of a fairy-tale, I guarantee it my darling or should I say, _Cinders!'_

' _Oh Stefan!'_ she replied tears coming into her eyes. She grabbed him and brought him down to the bed _._ 'I think this calls _for another round!'_

He jumped back into bed next to her with a bounce. _'Now you're talking darling!'_

The End

About the author

H erbert Howard Jones is a second-generation Hungarian, having been born in Chelsea, London, and then attending a public school in Norfolk. He went on to a technical college in Northern Ireland, and thereafter spent many years in London working in nine-to-five jobs, including as a porter at the BBC, as a clerk in hire purchase at Whiteleys, the department store in Queensway, and for a showbiz solicitor in the West End of London.

During this time he experimented with various aspects of the arts, writing and music. He has lived in different parts of the country and had the good fortune to rent a bedsit under the flat of an art student who later became a Head of Masters at Goldsmith's College Deptford, London. From him, H.H.Jones acquired some original art pieces and later learnt that he subscribed to the artistic philosophy of 'appropriation' which Jones found very inspiring.

Whilst H.H.Jones deplores the copying of the art works of others, he does believe in utilising existing ideas as a conceptual starting point for his own paintings. Apart from his writing, he has built up a portfolio of art using an approach which he calls the 'Art-Eklecto' method. He is presently writing and painting and dabbling in music and will soon have his own website to showcase some of his work at:

https://www.art-eklecto.com

Any enquiries can be made at herberthowardjones@gmail.com

Other books by Herbert Howard Jones

His publications can currently be found at:

https://www.smashwords.com/profile/view/HHjones

and include:

Lady Collendon's Cook: https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/895108

