Mistress For Hire

‘Hello, Uncle Matt,’ he said with only a hint of nervousness beneath the bravado. ‘I believe you’ve come to congratulate me on my engagement.’

Matt’s eyebrows rose.

‘So matters have gone that far, have they?’ he enquired. ‘Aren’t you rushing things a bit?’

Tim looked as if his nerve might be about to desert him, so Lisa came to his rescue.

‘Oh, no,’ she sighed rapturously. ‘I’m sure you know what it’s like when you’re in love, Matt. We just can’t wait any longer to make it official.’

Matt’s blue eyes flashed sparks.

‘Is that so?’ he murmured. ‘Well, if Tim’s going to support a wife, I suppose he’d better come home and get some practical experience on the farm. It will all belong to him one of these days and he’s been a bit remiss about his duties so far. All that will have to change now. I’m sure that getting up at dawn mustering sheep and mending fences will do wonders for you, lad.’

Tim gave a sickly smile. His idea of an early morning was getting up before noon and having several cups of espresso coffee in a Lygon Street cafe with Barbara.

‘That’s nice of you, Uncle,’ he said in a failing voice. ‘But I’ll be busy here in Melbourne.’

‘What with?’ asked Matt. ‘Exams are over, aren’t they? What other plans do you have for the long vacation?’

Tim darted Lisa a harried glance.

‘Oh, extra swotting for next year,’ he said, inventing hastily. ‘Or perhaps a holiday job at the Australian Stock Exchange or the Bureau of Statistics. And I really ought to get some coaching on my weak points in accountancy.’

‘It’s good to see you taking an interest in your studies at last,’ murmured Matt with a grim smile. ‘But you can do most of that back on the farm. Not the part-time jobs, of course, but certainly the coaching in accountancy. I can help you myself. We can spend all day in the saddle and the evening studying the stock market right through till midnight, if you like. Yes, yes. That’s an excellent idea.’

An appalled expression crossed Tim’s face.

‘I—I can’t!’ he stammered, glancing wildly around for inspiration. ‘I’d miss Lisa too much.’

Matt smiled. A hard, dangerous smile.

‘Oh, Lisa must come, too,’ he said in a silky voice. ‘If she’s going to be a farmer’s wife, she’s going to need to learn all the skills of running the place. Churning butter, driving tractors, cooking for the workers, dealing with snakes. I’m sure she’ll have a wonderful time. And of course it will give her a chance to meet the rest of the family, too, since they’re all coming for Christmas. No doubt you’ll want to cook Christmas dinner for us, Lisa? It will only be a small gathering of the clan this year, no more than fifteen or twenty, I’d say. And it will give you an excellent chance to get to know Tim’s mother better.’

Lisa emitted a soft wail like the sound of a whoopee cushion.

‘Did you say something?’ asked Matt. ‘Or am I imagining things? I’m afraid I am getting rather hard of hearing. It’s a hazard that afflicts elderly uncles.’

His eyes met hers, bright, hard, challenging and far from elderly. She could have given in immediately, could have told him the truth or simply refused his invitation and quietly moved out of the flat the following day. Yet Lisa was naturally obstinate. She might refuse an invitation, but never a challenge. A martial glint came into her eye and she lifted her chin defiantly.

‘Thank you, Matt,’ she replied. ‘I’m sure Tim and I will have a lovely time staying with you.’

If Matt was disconcerted by her response he didn’t show it.

‘Good. I’ll book the airline tickets and be back tomorrow morning to pick you up,’ he promised.

Matt didn’t give her a chance to renege on her agreement. He returned just as he had threatened the following morning. Tim and Lisa had risen at what they both regarded as the outrageously early hour of nine o’clock and were sharing breakfast in a decidedly unloverlike atmosphere when they heard Matt ring the front doorbell below. Lisa was having dire thoughts about the wisdom of the whole escapade and Tim was scowling moodily about the prospect of leaving Barbara and the night-life of Melbourne. The sound of the doorbell breaking in on their quarrelsome consumption of cornflakes almost came as a relief. Lisa turned red and then white and half rose to her feet at the sound.