Bartering Her Innocence. Trish Morey

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      ‘I take it your mother wasn’t calling to wish you a happy birthday, love?’ Her father was standing in the kitchen doorframe, a mug of coffee wrapped in each of his big paw-like hands.

      She smiled, in spite of the heaviness of her heart and the sick feeling in her gut. ‘You got that impression, huh?’

      He held up one of the mugs in answer. ‘Fancy a coffee? Or maybe you’d like something stronger?’

      ‘Thanks, Dad,’ she said, accepting a mug. ‘Right now I’d kill for a coffee.’

      He took a sip. Followed it with a deep breath. ‘So what’s the latest in Circus Lily then? The sky is falling? Canals all run dry?’

      She screwed up her face. ‘Something like that. Apparently someone’s trying to throw her out of the palazzo. It seems she borrowed money from Eduardo’s nephew and, strangely enough, he wants it back. Lily seems to think I can reason with him—maybe work out some more favourable terms.’

      ‘And you don’t?’

      She shrugged her shoulders, wishing she could just as easily shrug off memories of a man who looked better naked than any man had a right to, especially when he was a man as cold and heartless as he’d turned out to be. Wishing she could forget the aftermath … ‘Let’s just say I’ve met the man.’ And please don’t ask me how or when. ‘I told her she’d be better off engaging a lawyer.’

      Her dad nodded then and contemplated his coffee and Tina figured she’d put a full stop on the conversation and remembered the dishes still soaking and the accounts still to be paid. She was halfway to the sink when her father said behind her, ‘So when do you leave?’

      ‘I’m not going,’ she said, her feet coming to a halt. I don’t want to go. I can’t go. Even though she’d told her mother she’d think about it, and that she’d call her back, when she’d never had any intention of going. She’d promised herself she’d never have to see him again and that was a promise she couldn’t afford to break. Just thinking about what he’d cost her last time … ‘I can’t go and leave you, Dad, not now, not with the shearing about to start.’

      ‘I’ll manage, if you have to go.’

      ‘How? The shearers start arriving tomorrow. Who’s going to cook for a dozen men? You can’t.’

      He shrugged as the corners of his mouth turned up. ‘So I’ll go to town and find someone who can cook. You never know, I hear Deidre Turner makes a mean roast. And she might jump at the chance to show off her pumpkin scones to an appreciative audience.’ His smile slipped away, his piercing amber eyes turning serious. ‘I’m a big boy, Tina, I’ll manage.’

      Normally Tina would have jumped at her father’s mention of another woman, whatever the reason—she’d been telling him for years he should remarry—but right now she had more important things on her mind—like listing all the reasons she couldn’t go.

      ‘You shouldn’t have to manage by yourself! Why waste the money on flights—and on paying someone to cook—when we’re already begging favours from the bank manager as it is? And you know what Lily’s like—look at how she made such a drama about turning fifty! Anyone would have thought her life was coming to an end and I bet this is exactly the same. I bet it’s all some massively overblown drama, as per usual.’

      Her father nodded as if he understood, and she felt a surge of encouragement. Because of course her father would understand. Hadn’t he been married to the woman? He, more than anyone, knew the drama queen stunts she was capable of pulling to get her way.

      Encouragement had almost turned to relief, and she was more than certain he would agree. Until he opened his mouth.

      ‘Tina,’ he said, rubbing the stubble of his shadowed jawline, ‘how long is it since you’ve seen your mum? Two years? Or is it three? And now she needs you, for whatever reason. Maybe you should go.’

      ‘Dad, I just explained—’

      ‘No, you just made an excuse.’

      She stiffened her shoulders, raising her chin. Maybe it was an excuse, and if her father knew the truth, surely he would understand, surely he would be sympathetic and not insist she go. But how could she tell him when she had kept it secret for so long? Her shameful secret. How could she admit to being as foolish and irresponsible as the woman she’d always told herself she was nothing like? It would kill him. It would kill her to tell him.

      And when defence wasn’t an option, there was always attack …

      ‘So why are you so keen to ship me off to the other side of the world to help Lily? It’s not like she ever did you any favours.’

      He wrapped an arm around her shoulders and hauled her close, holding her just long enough for her to breathe in his familiar earthy farm scent. ‘Who says I’m keen? But she’s still your mum, love, and whatever happened between the two of us, you can’t walk away from that. Now,’ he said, putting his mug down to pick up a tea towel, ‘what’s this about a new bowling alley in town? I hadn’t heard that.’

      She screwed up her nose and snatched the tea towel out of his hands, not because she couldn’t do with the help or his company, but because she knew he had his own endless list of chores to finish before he could collapse into bed, and partly too because she feared that if he lingered, if he asked her more about her mother’s predicament and how she knew the man Lily owed money to, she wouldn’t know how to answer him honestly. ‘How about that?’ she said much too brightly as she pushed him towards the door. ‘Neither had I.’

      He laughed in that deep rumbling way he had and that told her he knew exactly what she’d been doing. ‘Your mum’s not going to know what hit her.’

      ‘I’m not going, Dad.’

      ‘Yes, you are. We can check about flights when we go into town tomorrow.’ And he came back and hugged her, planting a kiss on her strawberry-blonde hair the same way he’d done ever since she was old enough to remember and probably long before. ‘Goodnight, love.’

      She thought about her father’s words after he’d gone, as she chased cutlery around the sudsy sink. Thought with a pang of guilt about how long it had been since she’d seen her mother. Thought about how maybe her father might be right.

      Because even though they’d never seen eye to eye, even though they never seemed to be on the same wavelength, maybe she couldn’t walk away from her mother.

       And neither did she have to run from Luca Barbarigo.

      She had been running. She’d run halfway around the world to forget the biggest mistake of her life. She’d run halfway around the world to escape.

      But some mistakes you couldn’t escape.

      Some mistakes followed you and caught up with you when you least expected it.

      And some mistakes came with a sting in the tail that made you feel guilty for wishing things had been different. They were the worst mistakes of all, the ones that kept on hurting you long, long after the event.

      She pulled the plug and stood there, watching the suds gurgle down the sink, suds the very colour of the delicate iron lace-work that framed a tiny grave in a cemetery СКАЧАТЬ