The Ultimate Choice

And if Grandpa gave up and died on her now…a terrible hollowness burrowed through Kelly's stomach. She knew it had to happen some day, but she would never be ready for it. And Justin St John was going to pay for adding injury to Grandpa's grief, making him feel worse than he had to be, so depressed and miserable that he no longer wanted to live.

Kelly saw her last patient out of the door, tidied up the office, then carefully transported the interferential and the ultrasound to the back seat of her car which was parked behind the building. She vowed that if her equipment got damaged in any way Justin St John would pay through the nose for it. But she didn't really expect any problem with it.

She returned to lock up and made a last-minute visit to the Ladies that served all the offices in the compact medical centre. Normally she was not over- concerned about her appearance, but it would be no normal meeting between her and Justin St John. She wanted to look cool, calm, composed and professional… to put him off guard before she attacked!

She pulled a brush through the thick length of her dark auburn hair, neatened the fringe that swept above the natural arch of her eyebrows, approved the sparkling light of battle in her wide green eyes, and added a dash of fresh lipstick for sheer female vanity.

She tucked the tailored white shirt more firmly into the navy blue tailored skirt, checked that her homi-ped navy sandals were shiny clean and there was no run in her tights, heaved a sigh to relieve her i

Marian Park was seventeen kilometres from the township of Bowral, not a long drive and always a pleasant one for Kelly. The southern tablelands of New South Wales had a relatively cool climate, and the country was green and lush at this time of year.

If it wasn't for Justin St John, she would be rushing home to exercise the horses, getting them into peak condition for the last show-jumping venue at Dapto before the Australian Grand Prix at Wentworth Park.

As a last resort, she had contacted as many people as she thought might be able to help her out of her dilemma. She had been offered a number of rides, but only on second-string horses. They gave her no hope of wi

After she had won the blue ribbon on Rasputin at the Perth Grand Prix, the visiting Koreans had offered five times the price Henry had paid for him. And Rapunzel, the palomino mare, had attracted an equal offer from the Japanese. Lady of Shallot and Sir Galahad, her second-string horses, could easily fetch triple their initial cost. And no way could Kelly afford to buy any one of them.

Show-jumping was a rich man's sport. But it made no difference to Kelly's burning sense of injustice. Any fair-minded person would have offered her a deal. Something. Anything! But Justin St John's solicitor had left her no leeway to argue her case. She had not paid for anything: not the horses or saddles or horse-truck or vet fees or hay or any other tangibles. All the prize money she won had gone on entrance fees and travelling expenses.

But it still wasn't fair!

Kelly belatedly returned the waves of a few people as she passed through the village of Crooked Creek. She spotted Uncle Tom yarning to Judge Moffat outside the courthouse, and hoped the judge wouldn't notice her car going by. He might comment on it to her grandfather-although she hadn't really lied about working late!

If it was a good chess game they wouldn't gossip much, she argued to herself, and dismissed the niggle from her mind.

The last few kilometres sped by. Kelly slowed her old Toyota as the road entered the pine forest which enclosed and sheltered the gardens of Marian Park. The avenue was dark and shadowy, and it was like going through a tu

The beauty and artistry of the grounds surrounding the grand old mansion were unique in Australia. When Kelly had been little it had seemed like a fairyland: the terraces of emerald lawns, magnificent specimens of imported trees-ash, elm, maple, beech, the fascinating topiary work, sunken gardens, statuary, hidden ponds, the wistaria walk, the banks of azaleas and rhododendrons. So much to delight the eye everywhere one turned.

And nothing had changed over the years. Here it was as if time stayed still. Kelly half expected to spot Henry Lloyd chatting to one of the gardeners, but the timelessness was only an illusion. The Lloyd era was over at Marian Park.

Sadness dragged at Kelly's heart as she drew the car to a halt under the ivy-covered portico which stretched over the driveway. Suddenly she didn't want to get out and go inside the house that was now occupied by a stranger. Even as she fought down the feeling, the front door opened and a man started down the steps towards her.

Too young to be Justin St John, Kelly decided, and pushed herself out of the car.

'Miss Hanrahan?' he greeted her, looking slightly surprised.

She recognised the voice from the telephone. 'Mr Farley,' she replied with a nod of acknowledgement.

He was thirtyish, sandy-haired, blue-eyed, his face too weatherbeaten to be that of a city man, and he was dressed in the khaki work-drill clothes that went with the outdoors. He gave her a slightly crooked smile which lent a softening friendliness to his rugged features. He was not unattractive, but Kelly was in no mood to appreciate the looks of any man co

'I was expecting someone older,' he said. 'But it's good of you to come.'

'I expect Mr St John to make it worth my while,' Kelly reminded him with some asperity. She opened the back door of the Toyota. 'Perhaps you would carry that inside for me,' she directed, indicating the interferential which was heavy and cumbersome to handle. And, since Roy Farley was obviously Justin St John's lackey, he might as well earn his keep!

'Of course,' he said, and treated the machine with conscientious care.

Kelly picked up her handbag and the ultrasound and followed him. She steeled herself to walk through the home that would never again be a second home to her. But apparently the new broom hadn't swept through the house yet. No changes had been made to any of the furnishings that she could see. Everything was exactly the same. Kelly wasn't sure if she felt relief or resentment.

It surprised her when she was led to the guest wing. A moment's consideration made her realise that Justin St John would not be using the stairs in his condition. She was ushered into a bedroom where two tables had been arranged for her: one for the equipment, the other draped with a large bath-towel.

'I trust this is satisfactory?' Roy Farley asked anxiously as he set the interferential down and plugged it into a power-point.

'It will serve,' Kelly replied.

He threw her a relieved smile, then knocked on the door to the adjoining bathroom. 'The physiotherapist is here, Justin,' he called.

'I'll be out in a minute.'

The voice was deep, with the cultured tone that was undoubtedly the built-in product of a high-class Victorian boarding-school. Kelly might have conceded that it was pleasant, if it had not belonged to the person she had most reason to hate.

'He's in the spa bath,' Roy Farley explained as he turned back to her. 'If there's nothing else you require, I'll leave you to it.'