A Deep Deceit by Hilary Bonner

she had something to say.
    It seemed she was dying of cancer.
    I could barely take it in. Gran was my world. I knew nothing else. Selfishly, perhaps, I didn’t think at first in terms of her pain or even of my own loss. I thought at once only about how I would survive. I simply did not know how to cope without her. But I might have known she would have thought of that.
    â€˜You’re my biggest worry, child,’ she told me. ‘My only worry. I am happy to go to my Maker, I’ve always tried to serve Him and I don’t doubt His promise of eternal life,’ she announced predictably. ‘But you, girl. You need looking after . . .’
    Gran paused and the Reverend Foster stepped forward.
    â€˜Robert has agreed to take you on,’ said Gran, clutching the clergyman by the arm and sounding as if she were talking about an old horse or a broken-down motor car rather than a teenage girl. ‘Robert needs a wife and I’m sure you’ll make him a good one. I know he’s twenty-odd years older than you, but I think you will be helped by the stability of an older man.’
    I remember gazing at the pair of them in amazement. The whole thing was such a shock. ‘B-b-but, we barely know each other,’ I stuttered.
    The Reverend Foster stepped forward and positioned himself directly in front of me. He placed one big hand firmly on each of my shoulders and peered down at me. His eyes, staring directly into mine, were a piercing blue and I was aware of them having an almost hypnotic effect. ‘We will have a lifetime to get to know each other, my dear,’ he said. His voice was pleasingly soft, but I knew from his sermons from the pulpit that it was not always so.
    I glanced uncertainly at Gran. ‘I don’t know, I-it’s j-just so much to take in,’ I stammered.
    Gran tried to smile reassuringly. She looked so ill and weary. ‘I don’t know what else to do,’ she said, and she spoke very quietly and slowly. ‘I just feel sure it’s for the best.’
    I trusted Gran with my life. She seemed to have no doubts. I don’t remember either her or Robert Foster being all that interested in what I thought of the plans they had made for me and I went along with them. I seemed to have no choice. I don’t think I really thought about the magnitude of what I was doing. I had no sense of committing myself to another person for the rest of my life.
    Our brief courtship was barely worthy of the name. I only saw Robert Foster when he came to the house and Gran was usually with us. He never took me out anywhere, or introduced me to his friends or family. He did present me with an engagement ring, a single diamond in a narrow gold band, which I thought was rather lovely, and sometimes he brought flowers, although I was never entirely sure whether they were meant for me or for Gran. Everything between us was stiffly formal and distant.
    We were married within two months. Gran didn’t have long to live and her last wish was to be at the wedding. This was held at Robert’s church, of course, with his bishop officiating. Gran and I had almost no friends or family worth mentioning, but half the congregation were there to see the pastor wed. I got through the day in a kind of a daze. My wedding dress, traditional ivory white, had been hired for the occasion. Two little blue-eyed blond girls I did not know at all, but who reminded me disconcertingly of Janet Postings and appeared to be of almost exactly matching height and colouring, were my bridesmaids. They had been drafted in from the Sunday School.
    â€˜I’m just so proud and happy,’ Gran croaked.
    Even her voice was fading. I suppose that was all I cared about, really, making Gran happy and I hadn’t thought much beyond that. For myself I felt nothing, really, just a great emptiness.
    Among strangers and wearing somebody else’s dress I married a stranger. Robert Foster and I had