up in a coma in hospital. Not in a Sydney hospital—In John Hunter Hospital in Newcastle. Gran lives up in the Hunter Valley. Anyway, the family was told she wasn’t likely to pull through. In fact, the doctors didn’t even expect her to last the night. So I sat with her all that night and, because I didn’t want to go to sleep and not be with her if and when she did pass away, I kept talking to her. And, because I thought it wouldn’t matter, I told her all the things that I knew she’d always wanted to hear: that I’d finally found Mr Right and I was very, very happy.
‘Of course, it didn’t take very long to make that simple announcement, so I was forced to elaborate somewhat to fill in time. Unfortunately, I’ve never had a great imagination; creativity is not a talent of mine. So I thought of all the men I knew and worked with and came up with the one who fitted the bill of Mr Right from my grandmother’s viewpoint. Superficially, that is,’ she added with a rueful glance Ryan’s way.
‘Good God,’ he said, sitting up straight. ‘You’re talking about me, aren’t you?’
‘Unfortunately, yes,’ she admitted dryly.
He laughed, then laughed again. ‘Damn it, but that is funny, Laura. In an ironic way,’ he added. ‘I don’t think what happened to your poor grandmother is funny. I have a soft spot for grandmothers.’
Indeed, his eyes did soften with his words.
‘I must be missing something here,’ he went on, his forehead crinkling into a frown. ‘What harm did it do for you to invent a fictitious Mr Right on your grandmother’s deathbed? Frankly, I think it was rather sweet of you to do what you did.’
Laura sighed. ‘Sweet, but stupid. I should have known that Gran would pull through. She’s always been a fighter. Not only did she pull through, but somehow she remembered every single word I said when she was supposed to be unconscious. Well, perhaps that’s a slight exaggeration. But she did remember my saying that I’d finally met Mr Right and his name was Ryan Armstrong. Now she’s out of hospital and wants me to bring you home to meet her this very weekend.’
‘Naturally,’ Ryan said, then laughed again.
‘Don’t laugh—it really isn’t funny, because she’s still not at all well. The doctors found out that she’d had a small stroke, and that was probably why she fell. The family’s been warned that she could have another stroke at any time. Or even a heart attack. They did lots of tests whilst she was in hospital and things are not good, artery-wise; there are a few serious blockages. But she refuses to have a bypass or any kind of invasive treatment. Says she’s had a good life and is quite happy to go.’
‘Oh dear,’ Ryan said with some genuine sympathy in his voice. ‘You really have landed yourself in a right pickle, haven’t you?’
‘I really have. But it’s not your problem. I only told you because you insisted.’
‘So what are you going to do?’
‘I guess I’ll delay things for as long as I can. I’ll make up some excuse for why you can’t come to meet her this weekend—a business trip, or an illness. But I can hardly keep on saying that. In the end, I’ll have to tell her the truth—though I don’t want to say that I lied about our relationship. She’d be so disappointed with me. I’ll have to say that things just didn’t work out between us after all.’
‘You can say that I didn’t want to marry you. Which is true, after all,’ he added, smiling.
‘Very funny.’
‘It is, rather, if you stop to think about it. I can’t imagine two more unlikely lovers.’
‘Well Gran doesn’t know that, does she?’ Laura snapped, piqued by his remark.
‘No, she doesn’t. Of course, there is one other solution to your problem.’
‘I can’t imagine what.’
‘Of course you can’t. You don’t have an imagination.’
Laura rolled her eyes at him. ‘Then enlighten me, oh brilliant one.’
‘I could go with you to your grandmother’s place this weekend and pretend to be your Mr Right.’
Laura almost spilled the rest of her drink, but she soon gathered her usual poise and gave Ryan the drollest look. ‘And why, pray tell, would you do something as sweetly generous, but as patently ridiculous, as that?’
WHY indeed? Ryan wondered as he quaffed back a good portion of his drink.
He suspected it was because the idea amused the hell out of him. He rather fancied the prospect of Laura having to act the part of his doting girlfriend.
But of course he could hardly say that. And there was another reason, one which might convince the surprisingly sentimental Laura into going along with his suggestion.
‘As I mentioned before,’ he said, ‘I have a soft spot for grandmothers. Mine was marvellous to me. I don’t know what I would have done without her.’ He certainly wouldn’t have gone on to be a success in life. She was the one who had first taken him to soccer—even though he was a little old at thirteen to take up the sport, which was why he ended up a goalkeeper. And she was the one who had made him believe that he could put the past behind him and become anything he wanted to be.
‘I’ve always regretted that she died before I could give her all the good things she deserved in life,’ he added. More than regret—remorse was more like it. He hadn’t realised until she was gone just how much she’d done for him, and how much she meant to him. He’d cried buckets when he found out she’d died, though not in front of any of his teammates. He’d been a very selfish twenty-two at the time and had just been signed to his first contract with a premier league English team. He hadn’t returned to Australia for his grandmother’s funeral, another deep regret.
He’d been touched by Laura sitting with her grandmother all night, not wanting to leave her to die alone. Clearly, the old lady meant a lot to her.
‘It’s obvious that you’re very close to your grandmother,’ he said.
‘I am,’ Laura said, her voice sounding a little choked up. ‘She raised me after my parents were killed in a plane crash.’
‘I see …’ And he did see. His grandmother had raised him after his own mother had died.
Damn it all, but he didn’t want to think about that!
‘So what do you say to my suggestion?’ he asked, not feeling quite so amused any more. But it was too late to retract his offer.
Laura’s expressive eyes showed considerable reserve. ‘I have to confess that I’m tempted. But I’m not sure we could bring it off—pretending to be lovers, that is. I mean, we don’t even like each other.’
‘True,’ he said bluntly.
‘You don’t have to agree with me so readily,’ she snapped. ‘What is it, exactly, that you don’t like about me?’
He smiled. ‘You don’t really want me to tell you that, do you?’
‘I certainly do.’
‘Okay, you asked for it. First there’s your appearance.’
‘There’s nothing wrong with my appearance!’
Ryan raised an eyebrow sardonically and infuriatingly she felt herself blush. He continued, ‘Then there’s your manner.’
‘What’s wrong with my manner?’
‘Well, “ice queen” would be an understatement. Of course,’ he went on, unbowed in the face of her outrage, ‘If I could persuade you to let your hair down in more ways than one,