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to you, I think,' Lydie answered, starting to wish that her mother had never phoned her last Tuesday.

    `So he gave you fifty-five thousand pounds out of gratitude and without a word that he had already settled that debt? How the devil do you suppose I'm going to pay him back?' her father exploded, and in high temper, `Why ever didn't you bring that cheque home to me first?' he demanded. `Why in the world did you bank it without first consulting me?'

     

    Lydie felt she would have brought the cheque to her father, had not Jonah Marriott put the idea of banking it first into her head. And suddenly she began to get the feeling that, one way and another, she had been well and truly manipulated here. First by her mother, very definitely by her mother, and secondly by Jonah Marriott himself.

    `Well?' Her father interrupted her thoughts.

    `It seemed the best way to do it,' she answered lamely. `If there had been any sort of a traffic snarl-up I could have been too late for the bank here. And I knew-' thank you, Mother `-that the bank wanted their money by today.'

    `And they've got it-and it's for certain they'll hang on to it!' he stated agitatedly. `There's absolutely no chance they'll let me have it back again.' He sighed heavily. 'I'd better go and see Jonah.'

    `I'll go!' Lydie said straight away, as she knew she must.

    `You,' her father erupted, `have done enough! You can stay here with your mother and dream up your next scheme.'

     

    That comment was extremely unfair, in Lydie's opinion, but she understood his pride must be hurting like the very devil. `Please let me go?' she pleaded. He hesitated for the merest moment, and Lydie rushed on quickly, `You're not the only one with any pride,' she added-and all at once her father seemed to fold.

     

    He looked at her, his normally quite reserved daughter who, up until then, had caused him very little grief. `None of this has been very easy for you either, has it?' he queried, more in the calm tone she was familiar with. And, relenting, if reluctantly, 'We'll go and see him together,' he conceded.

    That wasn't what Lydie wanted either. 'I'll go and ring him,' she offered.

    `Not go and see him?"

    'I'll probably have to make an appointment first.' In this instance of eating extra- large portions of humble pie, it seemed more diplomatic to try and get an appointment first rather than to go barging straight into his office.

    `We'll make the call from my study,' Wilmot Pearson declared, and, giving his wife a frosty look in passing, for which, since her home was for the moment secure, she cared not a jot, he and Lydie went from the drawing room and to his study.

    She was glad that her father allowed her to make the call and did not insist on doing that himself, but her insides were on the churn again as she dialled the Marriott Electronics number.

    Again when she asked to speak with Mr. Jonah Marriott she was put through to his PA. `Hello, it's Lydie Pearson...'

    `Oh, good afternoon,' the PA answered pleasantly, before Lydie could continue. `I missed seeing you this morning.' And Lydie realised that plainly Jonah must have made some comment to his PA about her visit-probably something along the lines of Don't ever let that woman come in here again-she's too expensive. Lydie hoped he hadn't revealed the full content of her visit to his confidential assistant. 'I'm afraid Mr. Marrriott's at a meeting. If you would like to leave a message?'

     

    Blocked. `I should like to see him some time. Later this afternoon if that's possible.'

    `He's flying to Paris tonight, but...'

    Something akin to jealousy gave Lydie a small thump at the thought that he would be dallying the weekend in Paris. Ridiculous, she scoffed. But she began to realise she had inherited a little of her mother's arrogance in that she would beg for nothing. `I'll give him a call next week. It's not important,' Lydie butted in pleasantly, wished the PA an affable goodbye, and turned to relay the