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Authors: Gracie MacGregor

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BOOK: A Case For Trust
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Pippa knew her face was frozen in shock, couldn't seem to relax it to answer the smile Justin was giving her, couldn't command her body to move when he gathered her up in a brief hug. She vaguely heard him explaining their relationship to his mother; was aware of Eleanor's sharp look when she heard Pippa had been counselling Justin and Lucy before their wedding was called off.

‘So it was you,' Georgia drawled, and in the censorious tone and the assessing navy eyes, Pippa recognised the Mason family steel.

‘I'm sorry, I—'

‘Oh, don't be sorry. It wasn't the first engagement Justin's broken and I doubt it will be the last. Justin, forget the outraged indignation, you know it's true. We all love Lucy, and I wouldn't wish you and your fickle heart on any woman, least of all her.'

‘At least I
have
a heart, Georgia. The day I start taking relationship advice from you—'

‘Enough, all of you!' Eleanor's voice cut across the bickering. ‘I'm ashamed of you. Philippa, excuse my children, they forget their manners in the presence of a guest.'

Justin slung a casual arm across Pippa's shoulders. ‘Pippa's not a guest, she's a friend.'

‘She's
my
guest. Georgia, how did your negotiations go this week?'

Eleanor's children followed her conversational lead, treating Philippa with a relaxed deference and genteel courtesy that spoke of lifetimes of entertaining. But Pippa barely heard their words, trying to grapple with the fact she'd accidentally ended up in possibly the last place in the world she wanted to be, especially after last night: the Mason family home. A family dinner presumably meant
all
the family. Pippa nursed her nerves along with her juice, her eyes alternately volleying between the door and her lap, ears straining for the sound of a car, every sense on high alert for the inevitable confrontation. When Eleanor sent Justin to the kitchen for some canapés, Pippa wondered if she might have been granted a reprieve after all. Perhaps he wasn't coming? But no—Marissa was refusing to answer some question of her mother's. ‘Of course I'll tell you, but I want to wait for Matt.'

Anxiety clamouring, Pippa had to be asked twice if she wanted a canapé. She looked from the platter of delicate hors d'ouevres to Justin's quizzical face, and was grateful her broiling stomach couldn't be heard above the family chatter.

‘No, thank you,' she demurred, and Justin shrugged and deposited the platter on the coffee table before sitting beside her on the overstuffed couch. Pippa forced herself to concentrate on the conversation, to answer sensibly when spoken to, to smile at the appropriate cues. But the whole time, her spine was stiff with fear; her pulse leapt every time she heard a car pass by the house, the sweet juice she sipped doing nothing to moisten the parchment in her mouth, and she knew from Eleanor's occasional polite queries that she looked anything but comfortable.

She visibly started when a disreputable-looking old collie emerged from the next room and practically climbed into her lap. Shifting a little to give the dog more room, she found herself wedged hard up against Justin's thigh. Nobody in the room commented on the dog—presumably its place on the couch was common enough to go unremarked—but Justin reached his arm behind Philippa's shoulders to scratch the collie's ears, and that was how Matt found them when he suddenly appeared in the doorway to the lounge room.

He'd had some forewarning she was there—her ute in the driveway was a dead giveaway—and Pippa could see in his clenched jaw and ramrod posture the effort he was making to tamp down his fury. For half an hour, she'd been imagining and discarding the words she'd say to him when he finally arrived but now she stayed grimly silent below Justin's encompassing arm as Matt acknowledged his mother and sisters, then turned those chilly eyes on her and his brother.

‘Justin. Philippa.'

‘Oh, you've met Philippa? I was just about to introduce you.' Eleanor appeared flustered, her gaze swinging between the two brothers as if she was expecting an outburst. But they were practised, silent combatants, Matt's brow raised at the hand Justin was now casually resting across Pippa's shoulder, Justin staring back with challenge in his eyes. In the end, Matt's eyes flicked dismissively over Philippa before he turned to his mother. ‘Yes. We've met.'

‘And
now
I can tell you all my news! I got the job! I'm working for Legal Aid and I start in a fortnight!' Marissa's excited announcement smashed the tension, though Philippa took the opportunity of the hugs and congratulations to remove herself from the couch and Justin's proximity. She hovered by the large picture window, breathing through her nerves, petting the dog that had followed her and allowing the family their private celebration.

Her reprieve was brief. Under cover of offering her a drink, Matt gripped her elbow hard with the same hand she knew could as easily give insanity-provoking pleasure, and drew her close enough to hear his urgent order. ‘I don't know or care under what pretext you've got yourself invited into my mother's home, but you will get the hell out. Now.'

‘I can't! I've been invited to stay for dinner.'

‘Make an excuse. Or I'll make sure my entire family knows precisely what type of conniving slut they have sharing their hospitality.'

Pippa bit back a pained gasp, but it was enough to draw the attention of Matt's mother. ‘What are you two talking about over there? Come and join us. Philippa, your glass is empty, come and get another drink.'

‘Actually, Eleanor, Philippa was just making her excuses. She's not well. She's going home.'

Pippa knew she didn't imagine the look that passed between mother and elder son, but she couldn't read it, any more than she could read the stiff formality that had Matt addressing his mother by her first name, or the weary acceptance she saw in Eleanor's eyes as she approached them. Eleanor took one of Pippa's hands between her own and squeezed it gently. ‘Of course. I kept you in the sun too long. Thank you for coming. I look forward to seeing you again soon.'

Pippa said her goodbyes, received a brief hug from Justin under his brother's frosty glare and hurried to her ute. Heart heavy, she forced herself to think of other things; to not replay the scene in the Mason home over and over; to not allow herself to feel again the thrill of being in Matt's presence, a strange blend of apprehension, anticipation, desire and regret; to not worry if her gardening contract with Eleanor, so important to the future of her business, was still possible.

There was no point worrying about it. If Matt had anything to do with it, she'd never see Eleanor or any other member of his family again.

***

‘What's going on, Matt?'

He knew he hadn't avoided the sharp gaze of his mother; knew the questions would have to be answered. From the moment he'd walked in and stopped dead at the sight of that treacherous bitch curled up in his brother's arms, Eleanor had been watching him. She knew him too well, read him too easily. He was a master at controlling his expressions—his profession demanded it—but somehow Eleanor always knew when he was angry or upset. He'd escaped to the kitchen, ostensibly to stack the dishwasher, but she'd followed him like a terrier after a rabbit. At least she'd waited until Georgia and Marissa had left to commence the inquisition. Still, he prevaricated.

‘The merger between the two insurance companies I told you about is taking up quite a bit of time. The securities commission is sniffing around it because—'

‘Matthew, you know that's not what I meant. What's going on with you and Justin? And Philippa?'

Matt bit back a sigh of frustration. ‘Leave it alone, Eleanor. I'm sorting it out. He might have invited her here to dinner, but there's no future for Justin and Philippa and the faster they both work that out the better.'

‘Justin didn't invite Philippa to dinner. I did.'

Matt stared at his mother as if she'd gone mad. ‘
You
did? How the hell did you come to be inviting her to dinner? How the hell do you even
know
her?'

Her eldest son's angry incredulity didn't intimidate Eleanor in the slightest. She finished rinsing the coffeepot and left it to drain before turning to face him.

‘I saw her work at the kindergarten. She did a wonderful job there, and I've commissioned her to makeover the garden here.'

‘No way. There's no bloody way that woman is going to be working here on our garden.'

‘Matthew, this is your home and it always will be. But it's
my
house. And I'll decide what work is done here, and by whom.'

‘For god's sake!' Matt thrust his hand through his hair in frustration. ‘I'm spending half my waking hours trying to keep Philippa Lloyd away from your middle son so he can patch things up with Lucy. You can see he's interested in Philippa; why would you give her entree to the house and our family?'

‘Is that what I'm doing? I thought all I'd done was offer her a work contract.'

‘But can't you see? She's going to be under Justin's nose for weeks, with her butter-wouldn't-melt face and her skimpy little singlets and those horrendous boots. Can't you see she's wrangling her way in here? She's doing everything she can to set herself up as the next Mrs Mason, and you're aiding and abetting her.'

‘Matthew, you need to calm down. And stop using that lawyer language on me. I didn't even know Justin and Philippa had met until Justin came home this evening. I hadn't made the connection between Philippa the marriage celebrant and Philippa the landscape gardener, and I'm
quite
sure, from the expression on Philippa's face when she saw Justin arrive tonight, that she hadn't made the connection between us either. There's no conspiracy here, only coincidence.'

‘I don't believe in coincidence. And she's a conniving slut.'

‘Matthew! How dare you say such a thing! What possible justification could you have to say that about any woman? Philippa's intimate relationships are none of your business.
Are
they?'

Matt felt the flush spread up his neck at his mother's insistent glare. She was waiting for him to speak, expecting a response, and with a sudden rush of relief he realised she was waiting for an apology for his language and his sexist judgement, not for an explanation of his own intimate knowledge of Philippa.
Careful, Matt, or she'll soon work out it
was
your business, at least for one night.

‘You're right. I apologise. I just don't see how it's possible Philippa could be suddenly appearing in our lives so … regularly. We'd never even heard her name two months ago; now every time I turn around she's underfoot.'

‘Well, darling, there's no other way to explain it. I met Philippa weeks ago at the kindergarten and asked her to come and look at our garden. She came out this afternoon, and I invited her to stay for dinner. There's nothing else to it.'

Matt was shaking his head slowly. ‘Even after all this time, you're so naïve. Believe me, she might have acted surprised, but there's no way Philippa Lloyd didn't know exactly whose home she was coming to. She's got her eye on the main chance and she's as cunning as they come. She probably engineered the meeting with you at the kindergarten.'

‘Matt, that's enough. Now you're simply being ridiculous. You've a blind spot about this poor woman. I've heard your theories, but I saw no evidence tonight that Justin's romantically interested in Philippa, or vice versa.
You're
the one who seems fixated on her, and it's high time you applied that sharp legal mind to the facts in front of you. I know you've always been suspicious of women, but this time you're going too far.'

‘Not always suspicious. Not always, Eleanor. And if I'm suspicious now, I think I have good cause, don't you?'

‘Oh, Matt.' It was an anguished whisper. ‘When are you going to let this go? Can't you see it's destroying you? And any chance of happiness for you? You can't change things, and you mustn't let one… slip, one incident … somebody else's mistake, affect how you live your life. Don't let it close you off to love.'

‘I've only your word that it was just one slip. And I'm not the only one affected. Have you asked yourself why your youngest son suddenly won't come home anymore? Haven't you wondered why Garrett's always in Sydney or Saudi or Shanghai or wherever the hell he is this week, instead of home? That one slip has wrecked more lives than you know of, and I'm damned sure it's not going to happen
again
in this family.'

‘So judgemental.' Eleanor was shaking her head sadly. ‘I thought, with all the years you've spent examining human behaviour and its consequences, you'd have learned a little compassion by now, Matthew. One day, sweetheart, you'll discover how it rewards, as well as what it costs, to really love. I hope for your sake you discover it soon, or you'll end up a very sad and bitter man.'

‘I've seen love, and what it costs. I want no part of it. Do you think my father would agree with you, for example? Or Garrett's? And if you want to teach me compassion, you might start by telling me the truth.'

‘I can't. I've told you before. I made a promise.'

‘And that promise means more to you than your sons' peace of mind?'

‘I made it
for
your peace of mind. Yours and Garrett's. I did it for you, Matthew.'

‘So you keep saying. But don't expect me to thank you for it.'

***

The same old argument, over and over. Whether he was arguing with his mother or with his own self, Matt couldn't make sense of the rights and wrongs of the family secret that had wrecked his relationship with his mother and sent his youngest brother searching the far corners of the globe for self-acceptance.

BOOK: A Case For Trust
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ads

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