Lucy Gordon - For The Sake Of His Child

2000

YOURE PERFECT, my darling, do you know that? A bit small, perhaps, but size isnt everything, is it? To me, youre perfect. And youre the love of my life!

Gina came out of her happy dream, and looked around hastily in case shed spoken her thoughts aloud. But nobody in the car park had noticed her. Relieved, she patted the little car lovingly, and it seemed to shine more brightly, basking in her adoration.

It was, as shed admitted, tiny. It was also twelve years old and had come at a knock-down price. People had been known to chuckle at the sight of it. But it was hers. It served her faithfully in a chug-chug fashion. And she loved it.

Her smile faded as she tried to open the door to get in. On one side of her was a brick wall. On the other side was a large Rolls-Royce, whose owner plainly felt entitled to take up more than his own parking space. She was tightly hemmed in.

Now, thats not on, she muttered. I cant even open the door far enough to get in.

Luckily the car had no barrier between the boot and the seats. By climbing through the back, Gina was able to reach the drivers seat. It was squashed, undignified, and did nothing to improve her temper.

Who does he think he is? she muttered.

She began to back out slowly, holding her breath. At first all went well, but suddenly the little car threw a temper tantrum, slewed to the side and slammed into the shiny Rolls with an ugly grating sound.

Horrified, she squeezed out of the back again and went down on one knee to inspect the damage. Both vehicles were badly scratched and dented but on the Rolls it looked worse.

That was clever, said an ironic male voice above her head. Id just had it resprayed, too. Ten out of ten for timing!

From this angle he looked enormous. His head of thick, dark hair towered over her from a great height and his shoulders seemed broad enough to blot out the sun. Hastily Gina got to her feet, but he still had eight inches over her, and it was exasperating to have to express her righteous indignation looking up.

Clever isnt the word Id choose, she said. Selfish and arrogant, maybe.

Who?

Whoever parked this Rolls using two parking spaces, and leaving me no room to get out.

Just how much room does this peanut on wheels need?

We cant all drive a Rolls, she said, incensed at this slur on her beloved.

Just as well. If you drove a Rolls the way you drive this-this-

Youre encroaching on my space. You didnt even leave me enough room to open the door. You had no right to park like that.

Actually, it wasnt me. My chauffeur parked it.

I might have known.

I see! If owning a Rolls is a crime, having a chauffeur is a hanging offence, right?

Its all of a piece, isnt it? Anyone who can afford a chauffeur doesnt need to think of other people. Why didnt you stop him doing this?

Because I wasnt in the car at the time. This is the first Ive seen of it, and Ill agree he didnt do a brilliant job. But lets face it. He still left you room to back out, if youd gone in a straight line. Youre not supposed to do a sharp turn, or did nobody tell you?

If youd left me my rightful space, Gina said crossly, Id still have missed you, no matter how many sharp turns I did.

Your steering is defective, the man said, with exasperated patience. And youre damned lucky it came to light now and not when you were trying to avoid a truck.

He was right, of course. That just made it worse. Now she was faced with a huge repair bill.

So what shall we do? the man asked. Exchange insurance details, or would you prefer pistols at dawn?

This isnt funny-

If we make a fight of it, I could say a few things about your wonky steering-

Will you stop casting aspersions at my car?

Considering what your car has done to mine, aspersions are the least Id like to cast at it. The insurers will probably declare that little rabbit hutch a write-off.

Now, look-

So why dont I just accept all the blame and pay for your repairs and mine?

His sudden capitulation cut the ground out from under her. Her indignation died.

Youd-do that?

Yes, despite my disgraceful chauffeur and my reprehensible Rolls, I have some human qualities after all.

Thank you, she said meekly.

A middle-aged man had approached and was watching the scene. The other man turned to him.

Youve landed me in it, Harry. What were you thinking of to park like this?

Sorry, guv, but the bloke on the other side-hes gone now-was taking up half our space, so I thought it wouldnt matter if- Oh, my Gawd! Hed seen the damage.

Never mind. Just drive this ladys-er-car to my usual garage and tell them to do whats needed. Then come back here, take the Rolls-dents and all-and drive it to the garage.

How do I get in? Harry demanded.

Through the back, Gina said through gritted teeth.

He squeezed into the little car and eased it gingerly out, only just managing not to graze the Rolls again. The man cast Gina a speaking look but maintained a tactful silence.

Im sorry, she said awkwardly.

Its not your day, is it? Where can we sit down and swap details in comfort?

Theres a little place over there.

He looked wildly out of place in Bobs Caf, a cramped greasy spoon that catered for people with little money and less time. He must have been a good six foot two, with long legs, broad shoulders and a set to his head that suggested authority. His suit was pure Savile Row, as befitted a man with a Rolls, but his air of confidence was his own.

She cast a disparaging glance down at her own clothes. Her grey business suit was neat and appropriate to her job, but it had been the least expensive in the store. She kept it varied with the clever use of scarves and jewellery, but this man looked as though his normal companions wore haute couture.

She tried to remind herself that he was the villain of the piece, but that was hard when hed offered to pay all the bills.

It was lunchtime and the place was just filling up, but he found them a window table. He was the sort of man, Gina realised, who would always be able to find a window table in a crowded place.

Let me buy you a coffee, she suggested. Its the least I can do.

Forget it. Id rather heap coals of fire on your head. He studied the menu. Im hungry and I dont like to eat alone. Choose something.

Yes, sir.

He grimaced. Sorry. Its my way. Im used to giving orders, and its a hard habit to break.

His voice was deep and resonant, making her realise that most voices were flat.

She made her choice and he hailed a waitress without trouble. When hed given the order he said, My names Carson Page.

And mine is Gina Tennison. Im really grateful to you, Mr Page. You were right about my steering. And it shouldnt have been like that because Ive just had the car repaired-

You should sue the garage. Get yourself a good lawyer.

Actually, I am a lawyer.

Good grief!

Well, its hard to be a convincing lawyer in a garage full of male mechanics, she said defensively. It doesnt matter how many legal qualifications you have, they still do what they like because they think youre just a silly woman who knows nothing about cars.

He didnt answer, but his lips twitched.

Go on, say it, she challenged.

Do I need to?

She broke into laughter, and he joined her. Laughing transformed him, softening the harsh lines of his face. But it vanished quickly. It was almost as though cheerfulness made him uneasy, and he needed to protect himself against it.