Contract with Consequences

way Jason had been. But a girl sometimes had to turn a blind eye to minor failings if she wanted to become a wife and mother as much as Scarlet did.

Not that it mattered now, Janet thought with a resigned sigh. She’d obviously given up on the idea of marriage. Even if John were interested, he’d be fighting a losing battle with Scarlet. All she wanted was a baby.

Janet stood up from the sofa and walked over to pick up her tea. She hoped and prayed Scarlet would fall pregnant next month.

The same thought kept Scarlet awake long after she climbed into bed. She tossed and turned, her mind torturing herself with that most horrible ‘what if?’ What if she didn’t fall pregnant next month? What then? Would she keep on trying or resort to more complicated and expensive procedures like IVF? How long could she keep doing this before she went stark, raving mad?

Already she could feel herself unravelling.

Maybe she should have accepted John’s offer. Why hadn’t she? Was it just because the idea of having sex with him terrified her? Was she so frightened of not living up to his expectations? That seemed a truly pathetic reason to knock back what was in many ways an excellent proposal. Then why, Scarlet? What are you so afraid of where John is concerned?

Her whirling mind eventually went back to that movie they’d seen tonight, with its truly cheesy ending. Surely she couldn’t be afraid of something similar happening to her? It seemed ludicrous in the extreme to think she would fall for John just because she went to bed with him.

For the umpteenth time, Scarlet sat up and punched her pillow before turning it over and slumping back down again.

‘I’m getting sick of this,’ she muttered as she stared blankly up at the darkened ceiling. ‘I have to go to work in the morning. It’s all your fault, John Mitchell. You should have minded your own business. You don’t really want to be the father of my baby. You don’t really want to be the father of any baby. So why on earth did you make such a ridiculous offer in the first place? It just doesn’t make sense!’

The man himself was thinking along those same lines as he stood at his bedroom window, staring down at Scarlet’s house as he’d done so many times when he’d been a boy, wanting to join in as she played with the other kids.

A wry smile pulled at his face. Here he was, years later, still wanting Scarlet, though admittedly in quite a different way!

Okay, so his offering to be her sperm donor had begun as a gesture of kindness, but it had quickly changed to one driven by his male hormones. He wanted her, naked and willing, in his arms, a prospect which he now realised had always been in the realms of fantasy. John only had to recall the way she’d reacted to his taking her arm tonight to know he wasn’t on her ‘ten most desirable men in the world’ list. Perhaps that was why she’d rejected his offer. That and the fact she didn’t want a selfish, self-centred commitment-phobe as the father of her baby. Much better to have some anonymous stranger.

Good one, John.

A light suddenly came on in the King house. John had no idea if it was Scarlet’s bedroom or not. But he suspected it was. She was sleepless, just like him.

Another memory suddenly popped into his head-that of his taking her arm when they’d left his parents’ party together. Scarlet hadn’t pulled away from him then. Hadn’t found his touch in any way repulsive. Then there’d been the way she’d looked at him when she’d first driven up to Gosford station earlier that day. That hadn’t been the look of a woman who found him unattractive.

Maybe he was reading this situation all wrong. Maybe there was something else bothering Scarlet. Maybe she had been tossing and turning in her bed over there, wishing now that she hadn’t rejected his offer. Because in truth it had been a good offer, far better than her having some stranger’s child. He still didn’t fancy that idea one little bit.

It suddenly occurred to John that Scarlet might eventually reconsider his offer. He suspected, however, that she would not come to such a decision lightly, or in the immediate future. To hang around home, hoping for her to change her mind, was not a bearable thought. Despite his recent discovery that he still loved his father, John still found being around him difficult. He couldn’t even escape by going surfing; the doctors said such activities were out of the question till his leg was stronger. He’d already told his mother when he arrived home that he was booked on a flight tomorrow evening, letting her think he was returning to Brazil, whereas in fact he was going to Darwin. She’d been disappointed by his early departure, but resigned.

Would Scarlet be disappointed by his early departure? he wondered. Or relieved.

He could hardly ask her now.

Another thought came to him. What if she did change her mind about his offer? She would need to know how to contact him, without having to ask his mother. No way would Scarlet do that. He knew her. She was like him in some ways-overly proud. And too independent for her own good.

Turning from the window, he made his way downstairs where everything was quiet; his parents had gone to bed some time ago. Switching on the kitchen light, he went to the drawer where his mother kept an assortment of biros, writing pads and different-sized envelopes. Selecting what he wanted, he returned to his room, switched on his bedside lamp and sat down to write. It took him several attempts before he got the wording just right but eventually he was satisfied.

Dear Scarlet.

By the time you read this I will have left. Not Australia, as my family believe. I have an apartment in Darwin where I go every winter for a few weeks’ rest and recreation. This time, however, I intend to stay longer, though please keep this information confidential. Scarlet, I presume you are determined to keep trying for a baby by your anonymous donor. And that is your right. But if it is not successful, I wish you to know that my offer is still open. I can’t promise you romance but I do promise you what I think you need very badly. Here are my mobile and satellite phone numbers so that you can contact me no matter where I am.

Your friend always, John.

He added the numbers then slipped the note into an envelope and wrote Scarlet’s name on the front, having already decided to drop the letter into her mailbox tomorrow whilst she was at work.

By the time she got home he would be long gone.

Then it would be up to her.

CHAPTER EIGHT

Exactly one month and one day later

IT HADN’T worked. Again.

Despair clutched at Scarlet’s already cramping stomach as she hunched over the toilet seat. There had to be something wrong with her. Because it didn’t make sense. The clinic had tried a different procedure this time, putting the sperm right into her womb instead of just on the cervix. It was a more expensive procedure but was supposed to give her a better chance of conceiving.

A total waste of money as it turned out.

She dreaded telling her mother. Yet, she would have to. Scarlet wished now that she hadn’t confided her plan in the first place. She should have just gone to the clinic on her own, in secret. That way, she could have handled her disappointment in private, without the added pain of watching her mother’s disappointment. Her mum sometimes pretended that she didn’t mind not having grandchildren but Scarlet knew that wasn’t the case. She’d often said how she’d wanted to have a bigger family herself.

Scarlet frowned at this last thought. If her mother had wanted more than one child, then why hadn’t she had some more? Scarlet’s Dad hadn’t died till she was nine. Scarlet sucked in sharply at the possibility that her mother had been unable to conceive more babies. But if that were so, then why hadn’t she mentioned it to her? It might be an important clue over why she was having such trouble conceiving herself.

Not that she could go out and ask her right now. They were both at the salon, working. Wednesday was always a busy day. It would be impossible to question her till they were on the way home late this afternoon.