Instant Father

belligerent as his own. “Are you talking to me?” she enquired.

“Yes I am. I asked what you thought you were doing to that lawn.”

“I’m digging it up,” she explained patiently. “What does it look as if I’m doing?”

“Don’t give me any cheek. Do you know how many years it took to get that lawn perfect?”

“Yes, and it’s about time somebody did something useful to it,” she countered. “It’s nice and sunny here. Ideal for vegetables.”

He gritted his teeth. “Where’s your employer?”

A faint smile that he hadn’t understood until later flitted across her curved lips. “Do you mean Mr. Ackroyd?”

“Stop playing stupid-”

“I’m not playing,” she declared innocently. “You’d be amazed how stupid I can be-when it suits me.”

If he hadn’t been so angry and upset he might have heeded the warning, but all he saw was that he was being thwarted again, something he always found intolerable, but now more than ever. “I warn you I’m losing my patience,” he growled.

She nodded. “I can see that. I don’t suppose you had much to begin with.”

“Now look-”

“Do you usually go around shouting at people like an army sergeant? Should I jump? Stand to attention? Sorry. Can’t oblige.”

“Why don’t you try a little plain civility?” he snapped.

“Why don’t you? You storm into my home and start barking orders-”

“Your home? What the devil do you mean by that?”

“It belongs to the woman my father’s going to marry, and we’re all living in it together. Is that plain enough?”

“Yes, it’s plain enough. And since we’re going in for plain speaking, it’s my turn. I take it your father is Tony Ackroyd, and the woman he’s going to marry is Elizabeth Hunter, my wife.”

Her marvelous eyes widened, and the words came rushing out of her. “Your wife? Good grief! Grating Gavin!”

“I beg your pardon?” he said ominously.

“Nothing,” she said hastily. “I didn’t say anything.”

“You said ‘grating Gavin.’ I should like to know why.”

“Look, it’s just a silly name…” she floundered.

“Are you telling me that my wife calls me that?”

“Of course not…not exactly…this is…”

“Does she or doesn’t she? Or are you too stupid to know the difference?”

The color flew to her cheeks. “You’re a real charmer, aren’t you? All right, if you must know, Liz said everything you do grates on her, and I-”

“You invented the name,” he finished. “And you have the nerve to lecture me about manners.”

“You weren’t meant to know about it. How could I dream you’d ever come here?”

“I came to see my wife. She still is my wife until the divorce is finalized, which won’t be for another two weeks. Let me further make it clear that she doesn’t own Strand House, only half of it. The other half belongs to me.”

She frowned. “Only until my father buys you out, surely?”

“Buy me out?” he demanded with bitter hilarity. “Do you know what this place is worth? Of course you don’t. I know your kind-and his. Floating through life on a ‘green’ cloud, with no idea of reality. There’s no way your father could afford it, even if I were prepared to sell, which I’m not.”

“What on earth can you gain by refusing to sell?”

“That’s for me to say.”

She stood back to regard him. “Oh, I see,” she said cynically.

He knew it was unwise to continue this conversation. He didn’t owe this impertinent urchin any explanation, and freezing dignity would be his best course. But he couldn’t manage it. There was something provoking about her that drove him on. “What do you think you see?” he demanded.

“You’re going to be a dog in the manger, aren’t you? You can’t have Strand House yourself, but you can make sure Liz can’t fully enjoy it.”

“Young woman, I don’t know what you think gives you the right to make quick, cheap judgments without knowing the full facts, but let me tell you you’re way out of line.”

“Oh, the truth hurts, does it?”

“It isn’t the truth.”

“Oh, yes, it is. Why should you want to hang onto any part of this place, unless it’s for the pleasure of making poor Liz miserable?”

“I’m hanging onto it because it’s mine. She has no right to any part of it.”

“That’s not what the title deeds say.”

“The title deeds are a formality for tax purposes, and Liz knew that perfectly well.”

“If all your wife meant to you was a tax dodge, I’m not surprised she left you. She should have left you years ago.”

“Another glib judgment made in ignorance.”

“It’s not my judgment, it’s hers. Why don’t you just let her go? Let my father buy you out.”

“He couldn’t do it in a million years. He only offers to buy me out because he knows there’s no fear of my taking him up on it. He knew a good thing when he met Liz, didn’t he? A rich woman who could walk away from her husband with a lot of property.”

She paled. “How dare you speak about my father like that? He’s an honorable man, and he loves Liz.”

“Does he? Or does he love what she can bring him?”

“You’ve got no right to say that. You don’t know him.”

“I know he stole my wife, my house and my son. What else do I need to know?”

“He didn’t steal your wife. He won her by offering her the love you couldn’t, the only currency that counts, only nobody ever told you that, did they? If you’d known about love you might still have your wife, your house and your son.”

“Don’t tell me I don’t love my son. I’ll be damned if I’ll let him be brought up by Tony Ackroyd.”

“He’ll be lucky if he is. There isn’t a better father in the world.”

“The best father is his own father.”

“He’s four years old, for pity’s sake. How can you try to snatch a child so young away from his mother?”

Through the confused mass of pain and bewilderment that possessed him, he couldn’t find the words that would express his true feelings. All he could manage to do was cry out, “Because he’s mine.”

It was the wrong thing to say. He wasn’t so insensitive that he couldn’t realize that. But no other words would come.

He saw her looking at him in contemptuous disbelief. “The house is your. Liz is yours. Peter is yours. It’s all property to you, isn’t it?”

“No, it isn’t,” he snapped. “Peter and I…” He stopped. It would have been hard enough to speak of his bittersweet love for his son with a sympathetic listener. With this judgmental young woman it was impossible. “Never mind,” he said, unaware of how plainly his thoughts had been revealed on his face. “Just tell me where I can find my wife and son,” he said.

Her eyes were fixed on his face, and they had a new look, as though she’d seen something that had startled her. Her manner softened. “They’re inside,” she said. “I’ll tell them you’re here.”

She thrust her spade into the earth with a strong movement and ran back to the house. Gavin felt shaken and drained by the interview. He began to look around him and realized that the destruction extended much further than digging up a lawn. Tony Ackroyd evidently had big plans for the grounds, if the huge rolls of wire lying about were anything to go by.

“Daddy.”

He turned to see his little son scampering across the lawn toward him. For a moment delight blotted out all