Passionate Retribution

Luke gave a deep growl of laughter and didn't comply with her hissed command.

Her father hadn't had the benefit of hearing the content of this brief interchange, but he had endured the apparent intimacy of the low-voiced murmurs. He gave a bitter laugh, his expression a mixture of spite and scorn as he looked at his daughter.

'Unintentional?' he yelled scornfully. 'If you believe that you're even more stupid than I thought. You don't suppose he—' he flicked Luke a look of abhorrence, '—would have wasted his time on you if you weren't my daughter? A man like Gavin is worth a hundred of him. You'll live to regret this, Emily, and in the not too distant future,' he warned. 'You won't let the past die, will you?' he said, his attention once more on the other man.

'I always keep my promises, Charlie,' Luke said softly. 'Opportunities arise, and wasn't it you who always advocated grabbing them with both hands?'

'You admit it, then?' Charles asked hoarsely.

'Father, calm down, please,' Emily said urgently. The distended vein that throbbed in his temple made her stomach tighten in alarm. She'd known even without Luke's contribution just how angry her father was going to be; this had always been a damage-limitation exercise, but it was getting out of hand.

'Shut up!' He rounded on her. 'I'll deal with you, later.'

'Your heart…' she began anxiously. She had to tell him the truth. Perhaps that wouldn't seem so bad after this charade. It was selfish of her to save her own pride at the risk of her father's health, she decided, contemptuous of her own weakness in accepting Luke's get-out clause.

'There's nothing wrong with my heart, you idiot,' he spat back contemptuously.

Emily was immobilised by a thrust of confused pain. 'But…'

'I wouldn't have thought you'd care if I dropped dead at your feet.'

Emily had seen the swift dart of panic in her father's eyes, and the truculent observation did nothing to diminish an awful feeling that was solidifying in her head. 'You just said there was nothing wrong with your heart.'

'Why would you think there was, infant?' Luke had been watching this interchange with sharp interest.

'He has a heart condition.'

'Don't you dare discuss family matters with him!' Was there a hint of desperation in the blustery tone?

I heard the doctor tell him. It was an accident; I wasn't meant to. She spoke inaudibly, her lips moving silently. As she tried to unravel the impossibility of her awful suspicion, Emily had the feeling that her mental processes were not as acute as they might have been. 'I wasn't supposed to hear.' She spoke out loud. Horror entered the eyes she fixed unwaveringly on her father's face. 'Was I?' The timing had been so perfect, so convenient.

Belligerence entered Charles Stapely's face. 'You've been contaminated by that swine already…my own daughter.'

She'd been about to leave home, set up her own flat. The initial opposition had been fierce; her father had Victorian ideas about a female's place and role in society. He wanted her where he could keep his eye on her, control her. Persuading him had been a futile task but short of incarceration he couldn't prevent her; and, much to her surprise, he had suddenly capitulated, given her his blessing. She'd been on cloud nine—her first job as a probationary primary-school teacher and a small flat of her own.

Even after she'd overheard his conversation with the doctor he'd insisted with untypical generosity that she mustn't let the frailty of his condition stop her living her life.

She'd had a few moments alone with the apparently eminent heart specialist. No, the only treatment possible was conservative, he'd told her, no surgery. Stress could contribute and hasten the inevitable, he'd agreed when she'd tentatively enquired. The words had shocked her, made her realise the gravity of her father's condition.

He'd been grateful that she decided to stay, almost tearful; it was one less thing for him to worry about, he'd told her. At that time he'd sworn her to secrecy; one word of his condition and the bank could be compromised. He'd promised to take life easier, but she could understand and even admire his determination not to be an invalid.

'You lied to me,' she said slowly, her voice trembling with suppressed emotion. 'It was all a fraud.'

'It was for your own good. It wasn't a lie,' he protested, 'just an exaggeration. You and Gavin were meant for one another. You had no need to waste your energies on some poky little flat and a job you didn't need.'

Emily let out a shuddering breath; she'd wanted to be wrong. 'Your good, you mean. I've heard this rumour that not all families are motivated by self- interest—just now I find the notion hard to believe.' Her expression hardened. She turned to Luke, who was watching the proceedings with undisguised interest. 'Get me out of here,' she commanded flatly. She had no intention of explaining the significance of the interchange. In one evening she had learnt that three of the people she had thought she knew best had all been deceiving her. Do I wear a label saying 'gullible idiot'? she wondered resentfully.