that his overdraft was cleared he would want to know where the money had come from. Jonah would not have to tell her father—she would. She could hardly wait to see his joy.
‘Here you both are!’ she said on opening the drawing room door and seeing her parents there—her father looking a shadow of his former self.
Her mother gave her a quick expectant look, but it was her father who asked, ‘How was your great-aunt Alice?’
‘Actually, Dad, I lied,’ Lydie confessed. ‘I haven’t been to see Aunt Alice.’
He gave her a severe look. ‘For someone who has lied to her father you’re looking tremendously pleased with yourself,’ he remarked. ‘I trust it was a lie for the good of mankind?’
‘Not exactly,’ she replied, and quickly opening her bag she took out the receipt for the money she had paid into his bank account. ‘I went to see Jonah Marriott.’
‘You went—to see Jonah Marriott?’ he asked in surprise. He took the folded receipt she held out, opened it out, read the very little that was written there, but which meant so much, and—his face darkened ominously. ‘What is this?’ he demanded, as though unable to believe that an amount of fifty-five thousand pounds had been paid into his account.
‘Your overdraft is cleared, Dad.’ She explained that which he seemed to have difficulty in taking in.
‘Cleared!’ he echoed, it passing him by completely just then that she knew about his financial problems, and his tone of voice such that, had she not known better, Lydie would have thought it was the calm before the storm.
‘I went to see Jonah Marriott, as I said. He gave me a cheque for the money he owed you. I paid it into your bank on my—’ She didn’t get to finish.
‘You did what?’ her father roared, and Lydie stared at him in astonishment. Her mild-mannered father never roared!
‘You n-needed the money,’ she mumbled anxiously—this wasn’t at all how she had imagined it. ‘Jonah Marriott owed you fifty thousand pounds—I went and asked him for it. He added five…’
‘You went and asked him for fifty thousand pounds?’ her father shouted. ‘Have you no pride?’
‘He owed it to you. He…’
‘He did not,’ her father cut her off furiously.
‘He—didn’t?’ Lydie gasped, looking over to her mother, who had told her that he did, but who was now more interested in looking at the curtains than in meeting her eyes.
‘He does not owe me anything!’ her father bellowed. ‘Not a penny!’ Lydie flinched as she turned her head to stare uncomprehendingly at the man who, prior to that moment, had never raised his voice to her in his life. ‘Oh, what have you done, Lydie?’ he asked, suddenly defeated, and she felt then that she would rather he shouted at her than that he should sound so utterly beaten. ‘Any money Jonah Marriott borrowed from me was paid back, with good interest, more than three years ago.’
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