Page 13 of Paper Roses

For a moment I imagine him seeking out my stepmother to give her a piece of his mind. He might just be determined enough to dig her up.

“It’s alright,” I soothe, repressing a smile.

He settles back in his chair. I offer the woman beside us an apologetic smile but she’s staring at Jed and fluffing her hair, so the apology is obviously not needed.

“Sorry,” he says quickly. “I just hate shit like that. It’s unjust and outrageous to put stipulations on something that’s already yours.”

“It’s okay,” I say softly. “It really didn’t surprise me, Jed. I was expecting something like this from her.”

“And that makes me even more cross.” He taps the table. “It’s completely unenforceable, of course. You must know that, Artie. People being forced to marry belongs in the romance novels that Joe reads and not in a court of law. What did your solicitor say? He must have told you that you can contest the will.”

“Hmm. I’ve not seen him yet,” I say evasively.

His eyes sharpen. “So, how do you know what’s in the will? Did your stepmother tell you?”

“No, her daughter did.”

“Who?”

“My stepsister, Daisy. I share a flat with her.”

“You do?” He looks like he’s failed an exam on Artie Campbell—a subject he thought he knew everything about. Then his face clears. “Is Daisy the girl who came with you to the Christmas party last year? The one with the nice laugh and the purple hair?”

“It’s pink at the moment but she does have a very good laugh.”

“She also came to pick you up from work a few months ago.” His lip twitches. “She grilled me rather extensively about your working conditions while you went to get your coat. It made mefeel like you’d been forced up a chimney rather than being seated at a rather nice desk.” I groan and his eyes sharpen. “So, she told you about the will. How does she know?”

“She’s the executor.”

“And you trust her? I don’t mean to be rude but maybe she wants the money for herself?”

I pat his hand, touched by his concern. “No, she hated her mum. Absolutely loathed her. She wants nothing from her. In fact, the only thing she bought for the funeral was a pair of dancing shoes so she could boogie on her grave. It took me alongtime to talk her out of that idea.”

He suppresses something that sounds like a laugh and says, “But how can you trust her and?—”

He pauses when I put my hand up. “Trust me on this. She has her own money from her father. Besides, she’s my only family and has always wanted me to be happy.”

He looks unconvinced, but if he knew Daisy, he’d believe me.

“So, she’s telling the truth. Are you going to contest the ridiculous will?” he asks.

I shake my head slowly.

His eyes sharpen. “You’re actually going along with it. That’s the craziest thing I’veeverheard, Artie. Is it the money? I can give you the money if you haven’t got enough to hire a lawyer. I don’t even want it back.”

“Thank you,” I say, touched. “But I don’t want to contest it.”

“Why?”

I grip the table’s edge. “Because that’s my mum’s house. I don’t remember much about her, except that she was soft and warm and smelt like vanilla.” I’m sure I sound like a child, but I can’t help the fervour in my voice. “And Laura my stepmother ruinedeverything. She cost me my father, because he did as she wanted and cut me out without a second glance. But my mother—” I pause and take in a breath. “She loved me, and she wantedme to have that house as my home and I want to do that for her.” I sit back. “And say stuff it to Laura as well,” I add primly. “She knew I hadn’t had a relationship since my first boyfriend. This is her way of taunting me that I wouldn’t be able to find anyone to marry me. Well, I’m going to show her.”

“And what happens to the house if you don’t abide by this ridiculous condition?”

“That’s even worse. It’ll go to my mother’s aunt. She lives in Spain and has already told Daisy that she’ll sell the house to a friend who’s a developer. He wants to knock the place down and build a couple of houses on the land. My mother would have hated to see that, so Ihaveto stop it.” I pause and gather my thoughts. “I just need to find someone who’d be prepared to marry me until after the will is read. Then we can go our separate ways.”

His eyes sharpen. “Why? If Daisy is the executor of your stepmother’s will, then surely you have someone already in your corner who’d be prepared to overlook the nitty gritty? You could just say you’re engaged and leave it at that.”

I shake my head. “That’s not possible. My mother’s aunt has hired her own lawyer to make sure that the terms of the will are adhered to. I can’t risk being found out, so I’d better find a good actor to be my fake husband.”

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