Price to Be Met, page 1
Price to Be Met
By
Jessica Steele
Contents
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER NINE
CHAPTER TEN
PRICE TO BE MET
Could Aldona bear to pay Lionel Downs the price he asked for getting her father out of terrible trouble? While she was still trying to make up her mind, the mysterious Zeb made her a better offer. But accepting it was going to hurt her even more…
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First published 1980
Australian copyright 1980
Philippine copyright 1983
This edition 1983
© Jessica Steele 1980
ISBN 0 263 74297 0
CHAPTER ONE
Making her way to the house where her father lived, the house where she too had lived until six months ago when he had remarried, Aldona sent up a prayer that this Wednesday wouldn't find Lionel Downs in her father's sitting room.
She was heedless that the early September evening had turned chilly, her mind full of the best way to tell her father that her brief engagement to Guy Stinton was off. She knew he liked Guy and approved of their engagement. It had been through him she had met Guy. Had met Lionel Downs too, she recalled without pleasure.
The three men all worked at Sebastian Thackeray Limited, a company that specialised in digital electronics. Roland Mayhew, her father, had only started there six months ago; Aldona preferred not to dwell on the fifteen-month period of unemployment he had lived through after his redundancy from his previous firm, though something good had come from those days when he had fretted about being out of a job and the bleak prospect facing him that at fifty-six, coupled with his suspect heart, no one was going to take him on. For it had been during one of his afternoon walks, exercise in moderation being good for him, the doctors said, that he had met Barbara, off work having attended the funeral of a cousin that day and sitting on a bench in a nearby park.
It seemed to Aldona, as she neared the house she had grown up in, that her father's fortunes had taken an upswing from that moment on, for shortly after meeting Barbara he had found himself a job in the accounting department of Sebastian Thackeray Limited, a job he could do standing on his head, and working in close liaison with the firm's internal auditor, Lionel Downs.
Guy Stinton worked in the accounts department too, and it had been on one of her regular Wednesday evening visits to her old home that Aldona had met Guy, who had called to borrow one of her father's books on mathematics.
She arrived at the front door, and paused, feeling slightly awkward in not knowing whether to use her latch key or ring and wait. Always very close to her father, she had watched him like a hawk after his heart attack three years ago, but had found herself a small flat and moved out when he had married. Barbara was mistress here now.
Aldona still wasn't sure whether she liked Barbara or not, though she was fair-minded enough to consider that having been so close to her parent she might have a touch of resentment in her feelings for her father's bride. It had been that fear that she might unwittingly show resentment when Barbara had come to take her place that had decided her to move out. Her father's medical consultant had told her three years ago that he could lead a more or less normal life, and would live his natural span provided he didn't do anything silly, but most importantly, the consultant had underlined, his life must be lived without stress. Stress, it had been impressed upon her, could bring on another heart attack.
Conscious she had been dithering on the door step for far too long, Aldona inserted her key in the door and pushed it inwards, to close it and turn and see her fair, curly-haired stepmother, looking five years younger than her forty-two years, coming down the stairs, a badminton racquet in her hand.
The greeting that hovered on Aldona's lips vanished as she stared at Barbara in surprise. It wasn't that Barbara seemed to have grown younger since her marriage, or the fact that she was obviously on her way out to play badminton, a sport she excelled at but which her husband could not join in, but the fact her sports gear was topped by a magnificent fur coat Aldona had never known she had possessed.
'Your father's upstairs.' Barbara was the first to speak, her tone, Aldona thought, a shade aloof, though it could be that she felt the same strain she herself was feeling that the one man they both loved more than any other-was upstairs, and he appeared to be the only thing they had in common. Then Barbara seemed to notice her eyes were on her fabulous fur, and said, a trifle selfconsciously, Aldona thought, 'I know a mink coat is a mite ostentatious to go to badminton in, but I've only just got it and I couldn't resist wearing it.'
'It's very nice,' said Aldona, an understatement, wanting to say it was beautiful, but finding it difficult to be natural.
'Would you like to wait for your father in the sitting room?' Barbara offered. 'I'm sorry I can't wait with you, but I'm late as it is.'
Aldona moved away from the front door, feeling an awkwardness she didn't care for. There had been no time for her to get to know Barbara, since her father's courtship of her had been of a brief duration, and with Wednesday being Barbara's badminton night, they were still virtually strangers to each other.
'Have a good game,' she wished her, and as Barbara went out, she crossed the hall to the sitting room.
Since she had thought she would be over the difficulty she had found in speaking to Barbara by the time her father came down, her spirits dropped to see she was not the sole occupant of the sitting room. Her heart fell to her feet as she recognised the bulky, flaccid-featured Lionel Downs as he got out of his chair, cigar in one hand and a glass of Scotch in the other, and stood, his concupiscent gaze, to her mind, mentally stripping her.
'Hello, Aldona,' he greeted her, not moving any nearer but standing where he was as though satisfied he could get a better view of her slender but curvaceous figure from there. 'This is a pleasure.'
'I didn't see your car outside,' she said, knowing that since he was a friend of her father's she had to hide the revulsion she felt for this shifty-eyed man.
'There wasn't room to park outside, and since Barbara usually takes her car out on a Wednesday, I thought better than to block her way by parking on the drive.'
Very thoughtful of him, she was sure, she thought, hoping her father would appear before too long. 'My father's upstairs, Barbara tells me,' she said, purely for something to say. Here was someone else she had very little in common with either.
'He left me to go and kiss his wife goodbye. He wants to go carefully,' Lionel added, his voice loaded with suggestion. 'Too much of the wrong sort of exercise with his heart condition might not be good for him.'
How could her father be friends with this type of man? He sickened her to her stomach. 'My father has recovered from his illness,' she told him, keeping her temper in check, but unable to do anything about the cutting tone in her voice. 'It's three years now since he had any trouble.'
At her tone, Lionel Downs dropped his suggestive bantering and told her bluntly, 'Well, he wasn't looking too bright when he went to say cheerio to Barbara. And the length of time he's been away is a good indication that he's taking time off to take one of his heart pills.'
Heart pills! Aldona felt fear strike at the gut of her. Her father was on regular medication, but he also had a supply of emergency tablets. As far as she knew he had never had to take one of the fast-acting emergency pills, but… She was at the door on her way to race upstairs when Lionel Downs said quickly:
'For goodness' sake don't panic. You know he hates fuss. He wasn't looking all that bad.'
'But you said…' she began, halting her steps as realisation came that her father was likely to get upset if she went charging upstairs and started questioning him about his health. He was a proud man, and it offended him to have to admit to being ill. He had been cross with her on more than one occasion in the past, accusing her of trying to wrap him up in cotton wool.
'Perhaps I overstated the case,' her father's s
'It's just that what?' she asked sharply, turning to face him with a purposeful look in her anxious brown eyes that demanded an answer.
'Well, I know he's very worried…'
'Worried?' she picked up before he could continue. Fear for her father had her by the throat, and there was no sign about her then of the girl who had just tried to cut him down to size. 'What's he worrying over?' she asked urgently, ignoring that Lionel's eyes lingered too long over her curves, his lips moving almost as if he could taste her. Agitation was getting the better of her. It was the first priority that her father shouldn't worry, and if Lionel Downs didn't soon tell her what he so obviously knew, she felt disturbed enough to go and shake it out of him.
At last he spoke, and it was no help whatsoever to hear him say, 'He doesn't want you to know.'
Didn't want her to know! Her mind sought for what could possibly be worrying him. Since he had only been friends with Lionel Downs for a very short time then it must be something to do with work, for she couldn't see her father confiding to him his worries on so short an acquaintance. Oh God, he wasn't in danger of being made redundant again, was he? Oh, dear lord, say it wasn't that, it would just about kill his pride if that happened again. Common sense threaded its way in as she recalled reading that Thackerays, world leaders in their field, were going from strength to strength. No, it couldn't be redundancy. She pushed her panic behind her, and her voice was a shade arrogant as she said:
'I insist you tell me, Mr Downs.'
'You insist, do you?' he replied, letting her see she was going the wrong way about getting him to tell her anything. But fear for her father's health had her in its grip and she could do nothing to soften her attitude.
'Yes, I insist. My father shouldn't be allowed to worry— you must know that. So I would be obliged if you'll tell me what the trouble is, so I can help to sort it out.'
'You'd be wasting your time trying to sort this one out, girlie,' he told her, and she could see her tone had niggled him. 'Not unless you've got two thousand pounds salted away somewhere.'
'Two thousand pounds!' she gasped. He couldn't mean her father owed someone two thousand pounds! Barbara had given up her job on her marriage, so there was only one income coming in and she knew her father's savings had gone when he'd been out of work for so long. But two thousand pounds! He just couldn't be in debt for that amount.
'That's what it'll take to remove this load of worry.'
'But—but how? Why?'
'How?' he replied. 'Very cleverly, I would say. But not clever enough to deceive me.'
What was he talking about? Clever? Her father had a good brain, had worked in high finance before his illness, had then taken a less stressful job that had ended in redundancy, but it had been his cleverness with figures that had got him his present job over younger, fitter applicants. But what was this horrible man suggesting? That her father had been very clever, but not clever enough to deceive him? Her stomach turned over as she recalled Lionel Downs position with Thackerays was that of internal auditor.
'This is—something to do with Thackerays, isn't it?' she asked, feeling ice cold as she waited for his answer.
'Well, since you're guessing along the right lines,' he said, sounding pompous, 'I might just as well tell you that as chief auditor I discovered a discrepancy in the books.' His voice was not strong, but it thundered in her brain as he added, 'Two thousand pounds had gone missing.'
'Two thousand pounds,' Aldona repeated, and while knowing it was absolutely laughable to suspect that a man of her father's integrity should be responsible for its loss, she knew that was exactly what Lionel Downs was suggesting.
'That's the amount,' he confirmed, going on to tell her, 'The external auditors are due in on Monday,' then shatteringly, 'I'm giving your father every opportunity of recovering the money before they come in.'
Aldona groped for the nearest chair, knowing she would have to sit down before she fell down. He believed her father had taken that money, that much was clear. But she didn't believe it, couldn't believe it, thought she must have misunderstood him in some way.
'You're saying,' she said, needing to have the words said before they would sink in, 'that you believe my father has st-stolen two thousand pounds from Sebastian Thackeray Limited?'
Lionel Downs looked startled and she thought that some of the brain power she had inherited from her father had quickly summed up all that had been said, for after that one quick surprised look he looked away from her as though he was sorry she had learned such a terrible thing from him. He has no need to feel sorry for me, she thought; she knew her father better than he did, and he just wouldn't do such a thing. What would he want with two thousand pounds anyway? As she was about to defend her father in no uncertain terms, suddenly, so swiftly it almost took her breath, there came into her mind a picture of Barbara coming down the stairs wearing that magnificent fur. Oh no! she thought, wanting to dislodge the picture as a groan escaped her. She knew her father was very much in love with his new wife, but surely he hadn't turned his back on the honour he prized so dearly as to…
It was unthinkable, but she just couldn't get it out of her mind. 'What—what will happen if he can't find the money?' she found herself asking. If there was any truth at all in what Lionel was saying, and she still couldn't believe it, then he was right in one thing; her father wouldn't be able to bear that she knew. All her questions had to be asked before he joined them.
'Sebastian Thackeray isn't the sort of man who will countenance this sort of thing,' she was told flatly. 'There'll be a prosecution for sure.'
Prosecution! Oh God, it would kill him. Shock had her in its grip, shaking her faith, making the only thought in her head that of knowing she somehow had to find a way of stopping her father being prosecuted. She opened her mouth to say something, but no sound came out. Then making a tremendous effort, she found her voice. 'What if I went to see Mr Thackeray?' she whispered. 'Told him of my father's heart condition. What if I promised to pay the money back?' She was ready to promise anything just then.
'Can you pay the money back? You don't earn very much at your job, do you?'
Aldona fell silent. She loved her job as an assistant in a day nursery, but what she made there only just covered her monthly expenses.
'But if I went to see him, told him about my father's…'
'You'd be wasting your time. Apart from the fact that he's out of the country at the moment, he hasn't got time to waste on appointments with daughters of his employees. He'd have even less time for you when he knows you're the—er—daughter of a man who's embezzled the company of two thousand pounds.'
That word 'embezzled' hit her like a douche of ice cold water. But she had no time to dwell on it, for the sound of a door closing upstairs told her her father would be down any moment. Lionel Downs heard the sound too, and said quickly:
'Don't let on that you know anything. The shame of you knowing would mortify him.'
She didn't answer. He was right, of course. Her father had brought her up single-handed when her mother had died. From the age of five he had instilled in her a knowledge of right and wrong. Her upbringing had been stricter than most of her friends, but she hadn't minded because with all the severity of her upbringing there had been love in abundance. But that it had been he who should be the one to fall on the wrong side of that line between right and wrong was something he wouldn't want her to know until every chance of righting that wrong had been explored.
It was as she remembered his patient guidance in her formative years that Aldona knew suddenly she had been very, very wrong to think that he had done what he stood accused of. It just wasn't in him, and she felt bitterly ashamed that her fears for his health had so overwhelmed her that she had forgotten for even a moment what an upright man he was.
