'Absolutely not!'

Pieter Van Arkle frowned at his daughter and sighed.

'Marion, this is a good match for us.'

'For us?'

'Marion, please. You know as well as I do that we are going to lose everything. Everything your Mother and I worked so hard to build up. The Van Arkle name used to mean something in the world, with a marriage to Tracy Industries it will again!'

'Pappa! You are marrying me off to save your businesses!'

'No my child, I am marrying you off to safeguard your future.'

Marion paused. Her father had a point. A very small point. Miniscule in fact. She stood there, hands on her hips and stared at the man.

'Pappa – I love you very much but this is a step too far, even for you.'

Van Arkle sighed again and came around the desk, resting one hand on her shoulder and tilting her face up so they were looking each other in the eyes.

'My dogter, ek wil net hê jy moet veilig wees.'

'Ek weet, Pappa. Ek weet.'

She patted his cheek affectionately.

'But I'm still not marrying him.'

'Damn it child! You will do as I say!.'

Marion flared her nostrils at her father's yell and gave a short scream with a stamp of her foot before storming off, slamming the door so hard the room shook. At least he assumed it was the room.

Not five minutes later her Ford Everest spun on the dirt road out of their home complex and, hearing the noise, her father sighed. There was a light knock at the door and the housekeeper came in.

'Do you want lunch now, Sir?'

'Thanks, Lilanie. Yes, serve it now and put Marion's aside. She'll be back later.'

'Yes, Sir.'

She poured him a whisky and added a couple of ice cubes and passed it to her boss and left him to his thoughts.

Marion drove fast, cursing her father in every language she had mastered – and being that South Africa had 12 official languages that was quite a few – while she mulled over his…proposal? Offer? Deal? She didn't know what to call it.

As she drove Marion began to think. She needed to talk to someone, and she grinned as she put calls through to her two best friends. They answered almost straight away and as they chatted about inconsequential things and arranging to meet up shortly Marion felt her mood lift.

Hanneli and Sassi met her at the AURUM in The Leonardo and they were quickly shown to their usual private table at the front of the restaurant and, being on the seventh floor, it commanded quite the view over Sandton.

They ate their starters with companionable chitchat, catching up on local gossip as if they hadn't seen each other in months rather than just three days ago. Marion found herself relaxing even more.

The mains came with two bottles of Saxenburg Shiraz, and by the time both were half consumed Marion felt up to talking about what was going on. Hanneli beat her to the punch, though, leaning forward and resting a hand gently on Marion's wrist.

'You were upset when you called. Spill.'

Suddenly her wine was even more interesting than her company and the words she'd been planning on spilling had dried up in her throat. Even worse – Marion felt the familiar burn of threatening tears.

She took a deep breath and pulled herself together.

'You are looking at a potentially engaged woman.'

The two women squealed but they quickly died down when it became apparent that the subject of their glee was less than happy.

'Mar? What's going on?'

'Yeah. Why aren't you happy?'

'Because Pappa is arranging it all.'

There was a sudden silence.

'O! Dit is snert!'

'Hanni! Wash your mouth!'

The three looked at each other for a moment and then burst out laughing until the tears flowed.

'Oh I needed that. Thank you, my dear friends.'

'Is your Pappa serious, Mar?'

'He is. And, much as I don't want to admit it, Pappa isn't wrong.'

Marion sighed and then reached over and grabbed her friends' hands in hers.

'I am going to tell you something I have not mentioned to anyone, and I trust that as my best and closest friends you will keep this to yourselves.'

'Of course.'

'Of course.'

'Pappa is broke. The last inspection of our mines didn't go well. There is so much pressure to conform to green energy, to stop mining uranium and find a different way to make money…but we only have the mines. Did have the mines. They're gone – closed down by the do-gooders. I – I can't even get a job with my specialist knowledge, not a decent one, anyway. Pappa thinks that Tracy will invest in the mines and…I don't know what, actually. But he's hoping that by marrying the oldest son he will give me financial security too.'

'Well, your Pappa isn't wrong to be worried about you, Mar.'

'Tracy? Do you mean Jeff Tracy?'

'Yeah, Hanni. Tracy's oldest son. I think Pappa said that his name was Scott.'

'Have you looked him up?'

'What? No – Sas! I don't even want to know!'

Hanni and Sas looked at each other then back at Marion. She sat back, breaking her hold on their wrists. But she looked at the remains of her meal, a heat to her face. This time they sat forward and grabbed hold of her hands again.

'Marion. We've known each other since we were three. We're here for you. If you decide to go through with it.'

'Do you want to go through with it?'

'Do you guys remember Gerrit?'

'Gerrit? Gerrit Baas?'

'Goedheid – I haven't thought about Gerrit for years.'

'You remember what happened to them?'

'Yeah – his Pappa was found to be embezzling and was arrested.'

'But do you remember what happened to Gerrit and his sister?'

'No – they left, didn't they?'

'Yes, they moved away. But Pappa kept in touch. The Baas and the Van Arkles were old families, we'd grown up together. Gerrit's mother had to move to…to Cape Town.'

No one said anything. There were areas in Cape Town where someone of their…lifestyle…would not be…welcome. Hanneli blanched and Sassi bit her lip. They didn't need Marion to tell them the outcome.

'I cannot live through something like that, Sas. I can't.'

'You won't have to, Mar. You're smarter than most people we know. You just need a solid base and you could do anything. You know that.'

'Sas is right, Mar. You can be anything.'

Marion wiped her eyes. She hadn't realised how stressed she'd been over this. She'd known that she and Pappa were in dire straits for a long, long time, had been trying to find a job that would bring enough of an income in to save them.

Maybe Pappa's plan wasn't so bad. It would give her that solid base to be something. If – if she could wrangle the contract so that she could live her own life somehow…

She couldn't believe she was actually contemplating this. Marion blinked and looked at her friends.

They were smirking at her.

'So…have you looked at who Scott Tracy is?'

'No – not yet.'

Marion watched as Hanni showed Sas her phone. She laughed as Sas' expression changed to one of incredulity and rolled her eyes at the pair as they looked at her over the top of the phone.

'Ek kon hom net opeet.'

'Hanni!'

'Hanni's right, Mar. My goodness that man is hot.'

Sassi fanned herself and panted, and Marion creased up. Impulsively she leaned forward and grabbed their hands again.

'Before you show me what a dreamboat my potential future husband is, I still need to decide if I want to do this.'

'Say the word, Mar, and I will ship you out with next month's wine to Australia.'

'And I will not tell your Pappa where you have gone.'

'You two are the best friends I could ever have. Ok. Show me.'

Hanni passed her phone over on the page where she'd found the only picture of Scott. It was dated the day before, and he was in uniform. She read the article about the service, the honourable discharge and the medals he'd been awarded.

But she lingered on his face. It was serious, unsmiling. Marion supposed it was the import of the day making it so. There was a faint scar running from under his hat down in front of his ear and past his chin. Marion watched the short clip. Even she could see that there was a very slight limp as he walked away.

For less than thirty seconds Scott glanced at someone in the audience and smiled. It transformed his face and Marion found herself smiling in return.

And that was that. Keeping that image on one side of the screen, she searched for more images. There were no other pictures of Scott on the net. Marion frowned and tried to find more pictures. But there was nothing. Not on him nor on anyone else other than his father.

Then she found a really old article. The images of Jeff and all his children and his mother. At the funeral of their Mother. It reminded her of her own Mother's funeral. None of the images were clear but she knew what it felt like.

Without realising it, Marion had run a finger down his image. But the joint catcalling of her friends snapped her out of it.

'So, Mar. Are you going to say yes to this arrangement of your Pappa's?'

'Depends, Hanni. Depends on what the contract says and what I can get Pappa to change.'

'It may not be ideal, hell, it's not even modern practice. But if it keeps you safe, and more importantly, keeps your happy, Hanni and I will support you, Mar.'

Marion once more held their hands tightly and then let go, sitting back while the wait staff cleared the table and replaced it with the desserts they had all ordered. She watched with suspicion as Sassi whispered to the waiter, who nodded and left, only to return with a bottle of Billecart-Salmon and three glasses.

They waited until the wait staff had left before they clinked glasses.

'Gesondheid!'

Translations (from Google):

* My dogter, ek wil net hê jy moet veilig wees = My daughter, I just want you to be safe

* Ek weet, Pappa. Ek weet = I know, Daddy. I know

* O! Dit is snert! = Oh! That's Bull***

* Goedheid = Goodness

* ek kon hom net opeet = I could just eat him up

* Gesondheid! = cheers! (literally – health!)