Miranda Lee: Contract with Consequences

Everyone was thrilled to see her, Joanna especially.

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

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

It was difficult, however, to keep her mind on hairdressing that day. For some insane reason she kept hoping that John might contact her, either by phone or text. A silly hope, she realised by the end of the day. Why would he bother? It was over. They were over.

By Wednesday she was back on hairdressing autopilot, which was just as well, since she remained distracted. Her mum came into the salon with her, saying she could at least answer the phone and make coffee. Her wrist was in a cast but her fingers were operational and she was learning to use her left hand.

Scarlet was grateful for her company, especially during the tedious drive home at the end of the day. She’d distractedly taken the Central Coast highway instead of Terrigal Drive, and the traffic through the roadworks was worse, if that were possible. What a relief it would be when there were two lanes both ways instead of one. It should cut the bumper-to-bumper half-hour drive back to the ten minutes it should take from Erina to Terrigal. When she complained, her mother replied that at least it wasn’t raining.

‘You’ve brought the sunshine home with you,’ she said, and smiled over at her daughter.

‘If you say so, Mum,’ Scarlet replied through gritted teeth.

Not that the sun was shining at that moment. It had already set a good fifteen minutes earlier.

Shortly after six, Scarlet turned into the road which led down to their street. She sighed as they rounded their corner, happy to be home. The sight of a strange silver car parked at the kerb outside their house brought a frown to her forehead. The car was very shiny and looked brand spanking new, not to mention expensive.

‘Whose car’s that, do you know?’ she asked her mother as she swung into their driveway, barely five metres in front of the car, which she finally saw was a Lexus. So she’d been right about it being expensive. There was no one behind the wheel to recognise, but the car did carry New South Wales number plates plus the name of a Sydney dealership.

‘I have no idea,’ her mother replied. ‘I doubt it’s anyone for us.’

‘True,’ Scarlet said, pressing the remote which operated the garage door. She was sitting in her car, waiting whilst the garage door rolled its way slowly upwards, when something in her rear-vision mirror grabbed her attention. Swivelling her head around, she was utterly floored when she saw John walking across the road towards them, wearing an elegant grey suit with a shirt and tie. Her mouth literally dropped open as he came right up to her car and tapped on the passenger window.

‘Goodness me!’ her mother exclaimed. ‘It’s John Mitchell. Scarlet, wind my window down so that I can see what he wants.’

A wild mixture of emotions claimed Scarlet as she pressed the button which operated the window: shock. Confusion. Trepidation. But the strongest was a totally irrational joy.

‘Yes, John, what is it?’ her mother asked.

‘Hi there, Mrs King,’ he returned with a warm smile. ‘Mum told me about your accident. I hope it’s not causing you too much trouble.’

‘I’m managing quite well, thank you, John. So what brings you home? I thought you’d gone back to Brazil.’

‘That was my initial plan but something unforeseen happened and I’ve decided to come home to Terrigal to live. The thing is, Mrs King, I know Scarlet worked as an estate agent in this area for a good while and I was wondering if she might give me some advice on where and what to buy. I don’t like to let grass grow under my feet so I was hoping to steal her away from you for a few hours tonight and get her advice over dinner. Mum said you’re very welcome to have your dinner over at our place, so you won’t have to worry about managing on your own. So what do you say, Scarlet?’ he asked, glancing over at her with totally unreadable eyes. ‘I have my own wheels this time,’ he added, nodding towards the silver Lexus. ‘You’re not too tired, are you?’

What could she say when she was dying to find out what he was up to? Despite that burst of mad happiness at the sight of him, she could not believe that he seriously wanted to come back here to live. He would never do that. This was all just an excuse to get her alone. A ploy. A plan. John liked plans. But what plan was this?

A loud bell jangled in her head, warning her to be careful. Very careful.

‘No, I’m not too tired,’ she said, pleased that she sounded composed. ‘But I would like to shower and change first. I’ve been at work all day. Give me half an hour, would you?’

‘Fine. I’ll be back, knocking on your front door, in half an hour.’

‘Well that’s a turn-up for the books,’ Janet King said thoughtfully as she watched John retreat in the side-vision mirror. ‘But not a total surprise. He always did fancy you, you know.’

‘Oh, Mum, don’t be ridiculous!’ Scarlet said, scoffing, as she drove her car into the garage.

‘I’m not being ridiculous. I have eyes. And you’re not indifferent to him, either. I watched you both at Carolyn’s fortieth. Play your cards right and you might not have to go back to that clinic.’

‘Mum! I’m shocked.’

Her mother rolled her eyes at her. ‘Scarlet King, you’re thirty-four years old. Soon, you’ll be thirty-five. We don’t have time for shocked any more. Now what are you going to wear? Something sexy, I hope.’

Scarlet could not believe what she was hearing. She wanted to laugh at the irony of her mother virtually asking her to dress with the intention of seducing John. Little did the poor woman know that John was probably here on a mission to seduce her. It was the only thing which made sense. He hadn’t liked it when she’d called it quits on him. He’d obviously come for more of what he’d had in Darwin.

At the same time, she could not deny that a small seed of hope had starting sprouting in her heart, no matter how illogical. This was another fatal flaw in women, Scarlet accepted wearily as she trudged from the garage to the house-their clinging to romance rather than reason. Hoping for a happily-ever-after ending as opposed to a more realistic one.

She didn’t dress sexily. Her winter wardrobe wasn’t sexy, though it was smart. She swiftly combined chocolate-brown wool trousers with a cream mohair jumper which had a wide boat neckline, trimmed with a row of chocolate-brown stitching. Her ankle boots were dark brown, her handbag fawn, made in imitation crocodile skin. She put her blonde hair up in a chic French roll, after which she remade her face before slipping elegant gold and pearl drops into her lobes. Lastly, she sprayed on some of her favourite perfume, which was vanilla based and not overpowering. She was just picking up the matching brown jacket from the bed when the front doorbell rang. A glance at her gold wristwatch showed John was a couple of minutes early.

Draping the jacket over her left arm-the night wasn’t overly cold-she picked up her handbag and walked slowly from her room. Her mother had by then answered the door, calling out to Scarlet that she was leaving to go over to Carolyn’s and not to forget her keys as she’d probably be asleep by the time John brought her home. By the time Scarlet reached the front hallway, her mother had disappeared across the road, leaving John standing under the porch light.

Scarlet was aware of her heart thudding behind her ribs as she walked towards him; aware, too, of his eyes on her, though they were annoyingly shadowed and still unreadable. Even when she drew close she was unable to discover anything from his expression. His face was as inscrutable as ever.