Barbara Taylor Bradford - Just Rewards

‘I need to speak with you.’ Lorne nodded, looking across at his twin sister from the window seat, where he had so often sat as a child, here in the old playroom on the top floor of Pennistone Royal underneath the attics.

Tessa stood near the ancient rocking horse, Gallant Lad, which had been ridden by their mother, aunts, uncles and cousins before them. The vibrant red, green, yellow and white paint was faded now, cracked and chipped, and the black mane had thinned with time, but oh how that beloved horse had been ridden, hugged, patted and enjoyed by so many Harte children.

Lorne waited patiently for her to speak; he was always patient with her and loving; they were the closest of friends and he knew she was not the ogre so many of the family thought she was. He noticed how pensive she looked, saw the worry flickering in her silvery-grey eyes, so like his own, and he immediately thought of that bastard of an ex-husband of hers. Well, soon to be ex , and he wondered if Mark Longden had been causing more trouble. Whenever he thought of him Lorne saw red, wanted to find him and thrash him within an inch of his life. He had mistreated and abused Tessa, and as far as Lorne was concerned no punishment was too harsh for him. Blackguard, he thought under his breath, using a very old-fashioned word, but one he believed most appropriate.

‘Come on, tell me! Speak to me, Ancient One,’ he coaxed, using the name he had invented for her when they were children, and when, at the tender age of five, she had announced to him that she was the elder twin by five minutes and therefore their mother’s heir. Much to her chagrin he had never let her forget that little child’s boast.

Tessa smiled her special smile, the one she reserved only for him, and giving the rocking horse a little push so that it began to move, she looked directly at Lorne and murmured, ‘Jean-Claude’s going to Afghanistan. To cover the war for a French network.’

‘Is he really! That’s great, he’ll be in his element. He’s such a brilliant war correspondent …’ Lorne’s voice faltered as he instantly noticed the pained look crossing her face and quickly he added, ‘Oh God, Tessa, how stupid I’m being. You’re worried, of course, and who wouldn’t be? Reporting a war is dangerous, I know that. But listen …’ Lorne leaned forward, his expression serious, intent, as he swiftly went on. ‘He’s been at this game for years. He knows what he’s doing, he’s a seasoned war correspondent and not a beginner, wet behind the ears. Please try not to worry.’

‘Easy to say, brother of mine, hard to do.’ She shook her head slowly. ‘Very hard not to be on the verge of panic.’

He nodded, compressed his lips, understanding exactly how she felt. ‘Knowing you, I suppose you told him how nervous you are about this.’

‘Yes, Lorne, I did. I asked him not to go.’

‘And?’

‘He told me he had to, and that I would have to get used to it … more or less those words, anyway. He was adamant, so naturally I agreed with him.’ She lifted her slender shoulders in a light shrug. ‘What else could I say?’

‘Nothing really,’ Lorne agreed. ‘In reality, you have no choice. You have to go along with him. He’s a fifty-three-year-old man who’s been doing what he wants all his life, especially when it comes to his work, his career. That’s who he is. His own man. I doubt he could be deterred, once he’d made up his mind, not by you or me or anyone else. Look, it is his forte , after all.’

‘That’s right, and he’s good at it. And over the last few years he’s become an expert on the Middle East, fanaticism and militancy. He said to me only the other day that it’s a political philosophy – waging war against the Western democracies, that is. He has the need to understand, to write about such things. That’s one of the reasons he’s excited about going to cover this war.’

‘I realize that. Actually, he’s talked a lot to me about the Middle East, especially in the last year. But listen, Tess, the news is good, and has been since December. Things are better, most certainly, and let’s not forget he knows the country, covered the last war there when the Russians invaded Afghanistan.’

‘I know, he’s told me bits about it, and anyway I read his book Warriors , and he covered it in that.’

Moving away from the rocking horse, Tessa walked over to the window seat, and Lorne made room for her as he had done when they were children. Leaning back against him, she murmured softly, ‘I’m so afraid he might get killed.’

‘He could get killed walking across the Champs Élysées,’ Lorne answered. ‘It’ll be all right,’ he went on quietly, putting his arms around her, wanting to calm and reassure her.

Tessa nodded, then sat up slightly, put her hand in her pocket and brought out the diamond engagement ring. Turning around to look up at her brother, she said, ‘We’re engaged,’ and showed him the ring.

Lorne stared at it, then whistled, and his eyes twinkled as he exclaimed, ‘I’m thrilled. Congratulations. I couldn’t be happier for you.’ He started to laugh then, looking at her with sudden amusement.

‘What is it?’ she asked curiously, eyeing him intently, frowning.

‘When I set the two of you up, I never guessed it would actually come to this … a permanent relationship. ’

‘I knew it!’ Tessa cried, punching his arm. ‘Right from the beginning. I told Jean-Claude on our first date that I suspected you’d brought us together, and very specifically, to have an affair.’

‘And aren’t you glad I did?’

‘You bet!’ Smiling, she slid the ring on her engagement finger and showed it to him again. ‘Look, Lorne.’

‘It’s a bobby dazzler, and so are you!’ he exclaimed and then he added in a more sober tone, ‘He’s a good man, Tess. True blue. And he’s very good for you, just as you’re so good for him. And when do you plan to get married?’

‘As soon as we can, and I’d really like it to be before June. I don’t want to infringe on India’s splashy wedding in Ireland.’

‘I agree. And can I hope to be best man?’

She grinned. ‘We haven’t got that far. He only just gave me the ring this morning. But I’m sure he’ll ask you.’

Lorne nodded. ‘When does his assignment actually start?’

‘In two weeks. He’s going to Paris on Monday, but he’ll fly directly from Paris to Yorkshire on Thursday … he says he’s determined to attend one of our famous family weddings.’

‘Learning the ropes, eh?’ Lorne teased.

‘I suppose. Thanks, Lorne, for getting us together in the first place. It means the world to me that you did that for me, that you cared enough.’

‘Hey, come on, don’t be a silly goose. Incidentally, why aren’t you wearing the ring? Be careful you don’t lose it, leaving it floating around in your pocket like that.’

‘I’ll wear it tonight, after we’ve told Mummy and Dad. They don’t know yet, since they’re both out.’

‘Then we’ll make it a celebration tonight.’

‘That’s an idea … Lorne?’

‘Yes, what is it? You sound suddenly mournful.’

‘I’m worried about not having a job after I marry Jean-Claude. I’ve always worked. What I mean is, I’ll have to give up Harte’s.’

Her twin gave her a long, thoughtful look, frowning, shaking his head. ‘Is it still that important to you, working at Harte’s?’

‘Yes. No. I don’t know.’

‘You’re thirty-two, darling, and you’ve had a lot of success at the stores. But let’s not forget the rough ride you had with Mark Longden. A very bad marriage that gave you absolutely zilch.’