Six Australian Heroes

Laura didn’t think this should have been a surprise, since all the men in the Stone family were odious. Her grandfather especially. Jim Stone had been a male chauvinistic pig of the first order. His son and his grandson had taken after him, believing they were superior beings and that women were only put on this earth to pander to their needs. After actually living in her grandfather’s house, Laura understood fully why her mother had run away from home as soon as she was old enough and why she’d married a man like her father who, though a strong man, had been compassionate and gentle in his dealings with people, especially women. He’d been a lawyer also; Laura had adored him.

She’d disliked her grandfather intensely and hadn’t been at all sad when he had died. But even in death Jim Stone had been able to make her angry, leaving the family property to his son rather than his long-suffering wife. She’d tried to get her gran to contest the will but she wouldn’t, saying that it didn’t matter, that Bill promised to look after her until she died.

But that wasn’t good enough, in Laura’s opinion. The home which Gran had lovingly tended for over fifty years should have been hers until she died. Instead, she’d been relegated to the role of a poor relative, reliant on her son for charity. All her gran had been left was a miserable twenty-thousand dollars a year, not much more than the old-age pension. That was until Laura had had a little chat with her uncle and insisted that he bump the amount up to forty thousand at least, warning him that if he didn’t then she would use every bit of her power and influence to get his mother to contest the will.

Naturally, her firm stance hadn’t gone down too well, but he’d done what she had asked. Of course, he’d made it sound like it was all his idea. When Laura had seen how touched her grandmother had been—she probably wasn’t used to the men in her life treating her nicely—she hadn’t said a word. Several times, during the five years since her grandfather had died, Laura had tried to persuade her grandmother to come to Sydney to live with her, but to no avail. Her gran said she was a country girl and wouldn’t be happy living in the city.

Yet I have a very nice home, Laura thought as she pushed open the gate which led up the path to the three-bedroomed cottage which had belonged to her parents and which had come to her when they were so tragically killed. Her grandfather had tried to sell it after she’d gone to live with him, but her darling grandmother—who had been sole executor of her daughter’s will—had refused to give permission for the sale. So the contents had been stored and the house had been rented out until Laura had left school and moved back to Sydney to attend university, at which point she’d taken possession of it again.

She’d lived there ever since, mostly happily. Only once had the house been instrumental in bringing her unhappiness. But that hadn’t really been the house’s fault.

Laura inserted the key in the front door, knowing that as soon as she turned the lock and opened the door Rambo would come bolting down the hallway, meowing for food.

And there he was, right on cue. Putting her bag down on the hall table, she scooped him up into her arms and stroked his sleek brown fur. It was better to pick him up, she’d found, than to leave him down on the floor to trip her up.

‘How was your day, sweetie?’ she said as she made her way down to the kitchen.

His answer was some very contented purring.

Once in the kitchen she plopped Rambo down on the tiled floor and set about getting him his favourite ‘fussy cat’ food, steak mixed with chicken. She’d just filled his dish with the meat and shoved the plastic container in the garbage bin when her phone rang—not her mobile, her land line. Which meant it wasn’t Alison or any of her work colleagues. The only people who used her land line were telemarketers and family.

Laura steeled herself as she swept up the receiver from where it was attached to the kitchen wall.

‘Hello,’ she said somewhat abruptly.

‘I finally got you,’ Aunt Cynthia replied with an air of frustration. ‘I tried ringing earlier but you weren’t home.’

Laura glanced up at the kitchen clock. It was only five-thirty. She was rarely home on a Friday night before six.

‘You can always get me on my mobile,’ Laura told her. ‘I did give you the number.’

‘Bill said I wasn’t to ring people on their mobiles. He said it cost a fortune.’

Laura sighed. ‘Not these days it doesn’t, Aunt Cynthia. Anyway, what did you want me for? There’s nothing wrong with Gran, is there?’ she added with a sudden jab of worry.

‘No, no, your grandmother’s doing quite well, considering. I’m ringing because Shane asked me to.’

Shane was her vile only-son and heir who was a chip off the old Stone block. He’d tormented Laura from the day she’d gone to live with her grandparents. His family had lived nearby in a smaller house on the same property. Thankfully, when she had finished primary school, Gran had sent Laura to boarding school in Sydney, a move which she’d appreciated. Her grandfather had objected at first on the grounds of the cost but her gran had stood firm again, saying the fees could easily be covered by Laura’s inheritance. Both Laura’s parents had had excellent insurance policies which had paid out double because they’d died in an accident.

Laura had quite enjoyed her school days—not her holidays so much, which her wretched cousin had made a right misery. Admittedly, he’d improved slightly with age, mainly because he’d married a modern girl who refused to put up with his boorish behaviour. In truth, the last time they’d met, Shane had surprised Laura by being reasonably civil to her. But Laura couldn’t imagine why he would ask their mother to ring her.

‘What does he want?’ she asked warily.

‘To find out if your new boyfriend is the same Ryan Armstrong who was a famous goalkeeper a few years back. His father told him that it was highly unlikely, given he was dating you, but I promised to ask you just the same. Because Shane said, if he was, he wants to meet him.’

‘And if he wasn’t?’ Laura asked archly.

‘What?’

Laura gritted her teeth. They really were a most annoying family!

‘Yes,’ she bit out. ‘Ryan is, or was, a famous goalkeeper.’ She only knew that because she’d been told of Ryan’s international success by a sport-loving colleague of hers who’d been quite jealous about her securing Ryan as a client.

‘Heavens to Betsy!’ her aunt exclaimed. ‘I can’t believe it. Shane’s going to be so excited. You know how much he loves watching the soccer.’

Actually no, Laura didn’t know any such thing. She’d had as little to do with Shane as possible over the years.

‘I must say I’m somewhat surprised,’ her aunt rattled on, ‘That you’ve got yourself a boyfriend at all, let alone a famous one.

‘I was saying to Bill just the other week that it looked like you were going to end up an old maid. You’re not a bad-looking girl, but you do have an unfortunate way about you. You state your opinions much too strongly. Men don’t like that, you know. And the way you dress is … well, not very feminine. Still, I guess there’s someone for everyone in this world. So how old is your Mr Armstrong? I dare say he’s not all that young.’

Laura couldn’t say a word for a moment, having been rendered speechless by her aunt’s tactless commentary.

But, as she struggled to find her tongue, Laura knew that there was no way now that she was going up to that house tomorrow alone. No darned way!

‘To tell you the truth, Aunt,’ she said at last, ‘I’m not sure exactly how old Ryan is. Middle to late thirties is my best guess.’

‘You’d think you’d know your boyfriend’s age,’ her aunt said snippily. ‘How long did you say you’d been going out with him?’

‘We’ve been business acquaintances for two years. But we’ve only started dating recently.’

‘Oh, I see. So he’s not that serious about you yet.’

‘He’s very serious about me,’ she heard herself saying. ‘You don’t think he’d agree to come home with me and meet Gran if he wasn’t serious, do you?’

‘What? Oh no, no, I suppose not. So what time do you think you might arrive?’

Laura closed her eyes and prayed that Ryan would not change his mind and retract his offer when she rang him.

‘Around noon?’ she suggested.

‘Could you make it later than that?’ her aunt said. ‘Say, around three? That way I won’t have to do lunch tomorrow as well as dinner that night and lunch again the next day. That’s a lot of work, you know.’

‘But we weren’t going to stay the night,’ Laura protested.

‘Don’t be silly, of course you are. I’ve already bought the food and the wine. On top of that your grandmother is expecting you to stay for the weekend, not just for a few short hours. You wouldn’t want to disappoint her, would you?’

‘No, of course not,’ Laura said, but her head was spinning. How on earth was she going to keep up such a ridiculous charade for that long? And what if Ryan refused to go with her? Giving her his phone number was no guarantee he would say yes a second time.

‘We’ll see you tomorrow around three, then?’

‘All right,’ Laura agreed somewhat weakly.

‘And Laura …?’

‘Yes?’

‘Bring a dress to wear for dinner tomorrow night, will you? I don’t want to see you at the table wearing those ghastly jeans you seem to live in.’

Laura sucked in a deep breath through wildly flaring nostrils. She was about to launch into a counter-attack when she realised the line had already gone dead. She glared down at the receiver for several furious seconds before slamming it back on the hook.

If there was anyone who could get under her skin even more than her uncle, it was her aunt—stupid, self-important, insensitive woman! Laura felt sorry for her grandmother, having to live with two such impossible people. She deserved better after putting up with that wretched husband of hers for fifty-five years.

Thinking about her grandmother’s feelings put some perspective back into Laura’s growing frustrations over the weekend ahead. Okay, so she’d backed herself into a right royal corner now. Too bad. Gran was worth putting up with pretending to be Ryan Armstrong’s girlfriend for longer than a few hours. And worth having to put her pride aside to ring him back and tell him that she’d changed her mind and wanted to accept his offer. If he prevaricated, she would beg him to come with her, if she had to. Hell, she’d even bribe him if she had to. Though what with, she had no idea.

The thought of offering him sex popped into her head out of the blue. It was such a crazy idea that she threw back her head and laughed out loud. As if the prospect of sex with her would persuade a man like Ryan to do anything! It would more likely make him run in the other direction.

Shaking her head, she marched back down the hallway to where she’d left her handbag, rifling through it to retrieve the business card she’d written his number down on.

Her stomach tightened into a knot as she picked up her mobile phone and punched in the numbers. For what would she do if he refused? What could she do? Laura felt sick just thinking about it. She hit the call button and started praying.

CHAPTER SIX

‘RYAN Armstrong,’ he answered quite promptly in his very male voice.

Laura straightened her spine and squared her shoulders at the same time. ‘Ryan, it’s Laura. Laura Ferrugia.’

‘Laura!’

No doubting the surprise in his voice.

She could hear noise in the background, people laughing and talking, and live music playing. If she wasn’t mistaken he was still at the Opera Bar.

Laura decided not to waffle; she wasn’t a waffly person at the best of times. ‘Is your offer still open?’ she asked abruptly.

‘Absolutely.’

‘Thank God,’ she couldn’t help saying.

‘That sounds somewhat ominous. What’s happened to make you change your mind?’

‘My aunt happened, that’s what,’ she said sharply.

‘Sorry. Have I missed something?’

‘I’ll fill you in tomorrow during the drive up there.’

‘Up where?’

‘Didn’t I tell you? Gran lives in the Hunter Valley. So does the rest of my family. I’m sure I told you.’

‘You probably did. I remember you mentioning the John Hunter hospital.’

‘Yes, well, the John Hunter hospital is not really near the Hunter Valley. I take it you’re not familiar with the Newcastle area?’

‘No. Never been up that way at all.’

‘It’s a relatively easy drive. You just take the freeway north and turn off at the signs to the vineyards. I usually make it in just over two hours. If I leave home out of peak hour, that is.’

‘And where’s home?’

‘Manly. Do you have a nice car?’

‘That’s an odd question. Ah, yes, I get the drift. You want to impress.’

‘You have no idea,’ she said with so much feeling that he laughed.

‘In that case, you’ll be pleased to know I have a very nice car. A navy-blue BMW convertible. Will that do?’

‘Wonderful. And Ryan, I hate to tell you this, but my aunt assumed that we’d be staying the night and I simply couldn’t get out of it. Though you don’t have to worry that we’d have to share a bedroom. Gran would never tolerate that in her home.’

But it wasn’t her gran’s home any more, came the sudden thought.

Surely her aunt wouldn’t put them in the same bedroom?

Surely not?

But she just might …

Best not say anything, or Ryan might back out of the deal.

It was a worry all the same.

‘So, what’s your address?’ he asked. ‘And when do you want me to pick you up tomorrow?’

‘What?’

‘Laura, get with the programme.’

‘Sorry,’ she muttered and gave him the details he requested.

‘What clothes should I take with me?’ he asked. ‘I’m getting the feeling that your family has money. Am I right?’

‘They’re well off but not seriously rich. Still, my aunt fancies herself a social hostess, so she’ll pull out all the stops for dinner tomorrow night. But you won’t need a dinner suit or anything like that.’

‘What kind of place is it?’

‘Years ago it used to be a large stud-farm for thoroughbred horses, with hundreds of acres of prime pastureland. But when there was a downturn in the horse-racing industry my grandfather sold off all the horses and went into cattle. Then when he died a few years back and my uncle took over he sold off most of the land to a property developer and invested the money, though he did keep a few cows. Nowadays, the property’s just a small farm, really.’

‘I’ve never been to a farm.’

‘You haven’t missed much.’

‘I take it you’re not a country girl at heart.’

‘You take it correctly. There’s something else I should tell you.’

‘Shoot.’

‘I have a male cousin named Shane who’s apparently a mad soccer-fan and is sure to be at the family dinner tomorrow night. He twigged that you were once a famous goalkeeper and is dying to meet you. Are you all right with that?’

‘Won’t bother me a bit.’

‘I didn’t think it would but I thought you should know all the same.’

‘That’s very thoughtful of you, Laura.’

‘You’re the one who’s being thoughtful. I’ll be forever grateful for you doing this.’

‘It’s my pleasure. If you must know, I’m quite looking forward to it.’

‘I don’t know why. I’m terrified.’

‘Yes, I can hear the tension in your voice. Look, don’t make me wait till tomorrow to find out what your aunt said to force you to change your mind. You have to tell me now or I won’t be able to sleep for imagining all sorts of crazy scenarios. It wasn’t just because she found out about my goalkeeping past, was it?’

‘No, nothing like that. It was what she said about me.’

‘What did she say about you?’

Laura told him—every insulting detail of her conversation with her aunt, even the bit where she implied Ryan must have been ancient to be interested in her. She could feel her temper rising as she gave vent to her feelings of hurt and humiliation.

‘Do you know she had the hide to tell me to wear a dress to dinner tomorrow night?’

‘Shocking.’

‘Are you making fun of me?’

‘Not at all,’ he denied. ‘I think your aunt was very rude.’ He paused, somehow managing to sound completely unconvincing, and Laura remembered his comment about her appearance.

She bristled. ‘I’ll have you know that I own several dresses. And quite a bit of make-up. I just don’t choose to wear either to work. Or at weekends in the country.’

‘But you will this weekend, if you’re serious about impressing your family. It’s not just me who’ll be on show, sweetheart, but us as a couple.’

‘You’re not going to call me that, are you?’

‘Call you what?’

‘Sweetheart,’ she bit out.

‘Not if you don’t like it.’

‘I don’t like it.’

‘What would you like me to call you, then?’

‘Laura.’

‘Laura it is, then. And Laura …?’

‘Yes?’

‘Try to relax a bit before tomorrow, will you? You’re way too uptight.’

‘Sorry. I can’t help it. I hate having to do this.’

‘What? Pretend that you’re in love with me?’

Laura winced. Did he have to be so baldly honest?

‘I guess,’ she said.

‘You’ve been madly in love before, haven’t you?’

‘Yes,’ she confessed reluctantly. Twice. First with Brad, and then with Mario. Finding out Brad was a selfish, greedy, amoral rat had been devastating enough. But it had been the super-charming Mario who had nearly destroyed her. Because she should have known better by then. Should have seen through his lies.

But she hadn’t.

‘Act with me the way you acted with him, then,’ Ryan suggested.

‘I could never act that way again,’ she said coldly. ‘It was pathetic.’

‘That bad, huh? Okay, just don’t freeze up if I put my arm around you or give you a little kiss occasionally. Strictly no tongues.’

‘I should hope not!’

He laughed. ‘I can see that tomorrow might be a stretch, but what the hell? We’re doing this for your gran, right?’

Laura blinked. She’d almost forgotten about her. Ever since that horrid phone call from her aunt she’d been thinking more about herself and her pride.

‘Yes,’ she said, feeling ashamed of herself. ‘Yes, of course.’ There wasn’t anything she wouldn’t do for her gran. ‘Ryan …?’

‘Mmm?’

‘You can call me sweetheart if you want to.’

He laughed. ‘That’s more like it. Now you just need to find a dress. Red would look good on you.’

‘But I don’t own a red dress.’

‘Then go buy one! You have all tomorrow morning. And some sexy shoes as well. Have to go now, Laura, someone’s trying to ring me. I’ll see you at your place tomorrow at one o’clock sharp.’

Laura opened her mouth to protest, but he’d already hung up.

Dear God, what have I done?

But he was right, she supposed. Any girlfriend of Ryan’s would dress sexily.

Laura hadn’t dressed sexily since she’d split with Mario, which was quite a few years ago now. Frankly, she wouldn’t even know where to start to find a sexy red dress.

But Alison would. Alison was right into fashion.

Laura pulled a face. If she asked Alison for help that would mean telling her what she was doing this weekend—and with whom. This would also mean confessing what she’d said to her gran when she’d been in the coma.

Alison would be hurt that she hadn’t confided in her earlier. The two girls pretty well told each other everything, had done ever since their boarding-school days together. Confessing that she’d kept a secret from her would be hard but it had to be done.

Hopefully, she wouldn’t judge her too harshly. Biting her bottom lip, she punched in Alison’s number and walked slowly into her bedroom. There she sank down on the side of the bed and waited for her best friend to answer.

Please don’t let her have gone out tonight, she prayed as the phone rang and rang.

A split second before it would have gone to her message bank, Alison’s harried voice came down the line. ‘This had better be important, Laura. You know how dreadful the children can be at this time of night.’

In truth, Laura could hear the sounds of arguing in the background. Alison had a boy of eight and a girl of six who didn’t always get along, especially when they were tired. Clearly it wasn’t the time for true confessions right at this moment.

‘Sorry,’ Laura said. ‘But I am desperate. Could you get Peter to mind the children tomorrow morning whilst you come shopping with me?’

‘Shopping for what?’

‘A dress. A sexy red dress.’

‘Bloody hell, Laura, I almost dropped the phone just then. Did I hear you correctly? Did you say you wanted to buy a sexy red dress?’

‘Yes,’ Laura admitted, knowing that she’d just opened the floodgates to Alison’s curiosity, which was second to none. ‘Could I possibly explain tomorrow?’

‘You can explain later tonight, madam, when I have time to call you back and listen to what I’m sure will be a fascinating story.’

‘All right,’ Laura said with a resigned sigh. ‘Just be gentle with me. I’m feeling a bit fragile.’

‘Rubbish! You don’t do fragile. You kids, if you don’t stop fighting I’m going to get off this phone and strangle you. Laura, I have to go kill the kids. I’ll ring you back later.’

‘Fine,’ Laura said wearily and hung up.

CHAPTER SEVEN

‘MY MIND’S still boggled by all this,’ Alison said as she put down her coffee cup.

They were sitting in a café in Centre Point Tower, having spent a good two hours since the shops opened finding the right sexy red dress, not to mention a pair of equally sexy shoes.

‘I mean, why Ryan Armstrong of all people?’ she went on disbelievingly.

‘You know why, Alison,’ Laura replied patiently. ‘He’s exactly the type of man Gran would think was a good catch.’

‘But you can’t stand him.’

‘I don’t dislike him as much as I thought I did,’ Laura admitted. How could she when he was doing this for her?

‘Ah-ha!’ Alison pounced. ‘I get it. You’ve been secretly attracted to him all along. And he to you.’

‘Please don’t start that romantic rubbish, Alison.’

‘But why else would he agree to this … This …?’

‘Charade,’ Laura finished for her. ‘I told you—he’s doing it because he has a soft spot for grandmothers.’

Alison rolled her eyes. ‘Oh, phooey! He’s probably just doing it to get into your pants. Now that I’ve had time to think about it, I can see it’s not romance he wants but sex. I keep forgetting not all men are sincere like my Peter. We both know what kind of guy Ryan Armstrong is, Laura. He’s a player, with an obsession about winning. If what you’ve told me is true, you’ve been giving him the cold shoulder ever since you got him as a client. Am I right?’

‘Yes.’

‘Men like that don’t expect women to give them the cold shoulder. They’re used to being flattered and flirted with. You’ve become a challenge, Laura. You yourself said you were surprised at his asking you out for a drink.’

And to go sailing with him, Laura suddenly recalled.

‘That was move number one,’ Alison said wryly.

‘But he has a girlfriend!’ Laura protested.

‘Who’s away in Melbourne for the weekend. My my, how convenient.’

‘It isn’t like you to be so cynical, Alison. That’s usually my bag.’

‘Yes, well, I can see that you’re in danger of being taken in by this creep. I mean, the guy asks you to buy a sexy red dress and you actually go and buy one. The Laura I know would never have done that.’

Laura sighed. ‘I’m not being taken in by him. I just don’t want to look like an old maid this weekend.’

‘Well, you sure as hell won’t look like an old maid in that red dress. And those beck-and-call-girl shoes you bought.’