Subtle Revenge

The flat was like a small greenhouse, and poor Mrs Jarvis, the woman who shared the flat, had to put up with it, whether she wanted to or not. Luckily the other woman liked plants, but even if she hadn’t the autocratic Aunt Jessie wouldn’t have parted with one of her beloved plants. Lori could still remember the shock on the Matron’s face the day Aunt Jessie had moved in two years ago as Lori unpacked the car full of potted plants. Aunt Jessie had consistently refused to give up her greenery ever since, and now the Matron, and all the other staff, had become accustomed to walking through a jungle when they came into this flat.

The old lady eyed Lori over the top of her pink-framed spectacles, her faded blue eyes still lit with a quick intelligence, her hair snowy white, her lined face still possessing some of her great-niece’s beauty, and her movements still spritely, despite the fact that she suffered quite badly from rheumatism.

‘What’s happened to you, girl?’ she asked in her abrupt voice, the short-sharpness of her manner belied by the affectionate twinkle in her light blue eyes.

Lori returned that affection. No one would ever believe her great-aunt was eighty years old—she looked as if she would go on for ever. And knowing her determination she probably would!

‘Well?’ she barked at Lori’s silence.

‘Nothing.’ Lori stood up to get a gaily-coloured pot from the cupboard under the sink, putting the plant inside and carrying it to the window. ‘Smells like chicken,’ she teased.

‘You looked in the oven,’ her aunt dismissed. ‘No, not there. Really, Lorraine, do you have no sense? That plant needs more warmth than it will get in that draughty window!’

She moved the plant to one of the shelves in the alcove next to the electric fire, not at all perturbed by her aunt’s bluntness, knowing it hid a genuine and constant affection. ‘I didn’t look in the oven. I know the smell of your cooking a chicken—delicious!’

Only by the slight lessening of her aunt’s scowl could she tell she was pleased by the compliment. ‘I’m still waiting, Lorraine,’ she frowned at her.

Some of her confidence wavered. Aunt Jessie had always been too astute. She should have known she couldn’t fool her this time either. ‘A friend of mine got married yesterday,’ she revealed guardedly.

Her aunt nodded. ‘I remember you telling me—You aren’t still mooning about that young Judas, are you?’ she snapped her displeasure at such an idea.

Lori felt herself blushing. From the moment she had introduced Nigel to her aunt she had known she didn’t like him—and the dislike had been mutual. ‘A rude, cantakerous old woman,’ Nigel had called Aunt Jessie. ‘A pompous young know-it-all,’ Aunt Jessie had called him. When she had told her aunt of her broken engagement, of the reason for it, Aunt Jessie had assured her she had had a lucky escape. Judas, she called him then, and she still continued to do so.

‘No, of course——’

‘I know what next week is,’ her aunt continued in her brisk no-nonsense voice. ‘But whether or not you can accept it, he was never right for you. If he’d really loved you he would have continued to do so even if you had been the one accused of stealing.’

Stealing. Her father had never so much as taken a paper-clip from the bank he was manager of! A discrepancy had been found in the accounts during a yearly audit, and as manager her father was chosen as the likeliest candidate to have covered up, and committed, those discrepancies. Despite his strong denials he had been brought to trial. Jacob P. Randell had somehow managed to convince the court that her father was more than just a likely candidate, that he had committed the crime.

‘What is it?’ Her aunt was watching her with narrowed eyes, getting awkwardly to her feet with the aid of her walking stick, moving easier once she was actually on her feet, discarding the walking stick altogether.

Aunt Jessie was old, despite her efforts to look spritely, and she deserved to live the last of her years in peace. The events of twelve years ago were now a faded nightmare to her. If Lori told her about Luke Randell she would only worry.

‘You were right the first time,’ she said softly. ‘The wedding yesterday upset me.’

‘Forget him,’ the elderly lady dismissed. ‘He isn’t worth losing even one night’s sleep over. How did the wedding go? Did your friend look nice?’

‘Very.’ Lori went on to describe the wedding in detail, knowing how her aunt loved to hear about such things. Mrs Jarvis would be told all about it tonight when she came back from spending the day with her married son and his family.

‘And who is Jonathan?’ her aunt pounced once Lori had told her he had driven her home.

She laughed softly. ‘Just a friend, another of the lawyers in the practice.’

‘Oh.’ Aunt Jessie looked disappointed. ‘Do you like him?’

‘Yes.’

‘Then why isn’t he more than just a friend?’

It really was wicked of her to tease her aunt in this way. ‘I’m going out with him tomorrow,’ she revealed.

‘That’s better.’ Aunt Jessie folded her arms across her chest. She was as tall as Lori, only slightly more rounded, and their family resemblance was obvious. ‘You aren’t getting any younger, you know.’

‘Considering you never married at all …’ Lori said pointedly. It was an old teasing game of theirs, and one they both enjoyed.

‘Not because I didn’t have offers,’ came her aunt’s predictable answer. ‘I just didn’t want some bossy man running my life for me.’

‘Besides, where would he have slept?’ Lori said tongue-in-cheek, knowing there was hardly room for the bed in her aunt’s bedroom, as the room was full of plants too.

‘Cheeky madam!’

‘Hungry madam,’ she corrected with a laugh. ‘When is lunch going to be ready?’

The one sure way to get your life back on an even keel was to spend the day with Aunt Jessie, her no-nonsense view of life brought everything back into perspective, even something like that unexpected meeting with Luke Randell. Maybe it had been inevitable—after all, she had chosen to involve herself in the world of law and lawyers, and that was something in which the Randell family were prominent.

She would accept it for what it was, a chance meeting that should be forgotten by both of them.

Then why did she have a hunted feeling all day Monday, almost as if expecting Luke Randell to suddenly appear in her office? It was a ridiculous feeling, and yet one she couldn’t dispel, and she felt a sense of relief when it came to five-thirty and she could go home.

Jonathan came in just as she was putting on her jacket to leave, and held it out for her. ‘It’s still on for tonight, isn’t it?’ he seemed anxious.

She put up a hand to release her hair from her collar. Her fingernails were painted the same plum-colour of her lip-gloss, her fingers long and tapered, the skin palely translucent, giving an impression of delicacy, and each movement was one of grace and beauty. ‘Did you think it wouldn’t be?’ she teased, her teeth pearly white as she smiled.

Jonathan’s eyes deepened in colour as he looked at her. ‘I was hoping it would be.’ His voice was husky.

She swung her handbag over her shoulder, checking she had her car keys, and her hair bounced round her face, red-gold in the bright overhead lighting. ‘I’m looking forward to it,’ she nodded.

He swallowed hard, making her effect on him a little too obvious. ‘So am I,’ he said eagerly.

‘Until later, then,’ Lori said briskly.

She had fully expected not to enjoy the evening with Jonathan, but she was pleasantly surprised, liking the quiet restaurant he had picked out, enjoying the meal and wine, and the conversation. Jonathan had a wide range of interests she hadn’t even guessed at, from hang-gliding to reading a good murder mystery.

‘I never get them right,’ he admitted with a grin.

‘What a confession for a lawyer to make!’ she teased, the wine giving her cheeks a healthy glow, her mood having mellowed as the evening progressed.