Lucy Gordon - His Pretend Wife

‘And just what have you heard about me?’

‘That you had a kid of your own, same age as Simon, and that you were a good mother. Looks true to me. Otherwise I’d just have taken him away again.’

‘Myra, what have you got in mind?’

‘Well, my life is getting a bit complicated. Cyrus wants to get married in the next couple of weeks because of some motor show or other, and I need to get out there fast.’

‘So take Simon with you.’

‘On my honeymoon? Get real. Besides, it’s time Andrew really made an effort with his son. It’s always been too easy for him to duck out. This time he isn’t going to.’

‘And you’re just going to dump him?’ Elinor demanded, speaking quietly, lest Simon heard.

Instead of answering direct Myra said, ‘Nurse Stewart’s been talking. I gather it was a bit like a French farce that night, you skulking in Andrew’s office or under a blanket in the back seat of his car. That bit didn’t come from Stewart, but from someone in the parking lot. And one of the district nurses knows this house is Andrew’s. I have friends at the hospital and they’ve kept me informed. It all became very intriguing and I got curious. It’s so unlike him.’

‘You mean I’ve made a scandal for him? Oh, no!’

‘I suppose it is potentially scandalous,’ Myra mused. ‘Of course, you’re not Andrew’s patient but your daughter is, and all this dodging around in car parks is something his enemies could make something of. Andrew’s got a lot of enemies. Brilliant people always do, and especially now that Uncle Elmer’s heading for retirement. His illness took a lot out of him, so he’ll probably go quite soon now. The contenders are lining up to take his place, and malicious tongues are all ready to wag.’

Elinor listened to this with mounting horror. She’d never meant to harm Andrew, but that was what she seemed to have done. But Myra, watching her, gave a cheeky smile.

‘Don’t worry, I’m not malicious, and I won’t make trouble. My word on it, and you really can trust my word. I may be superficial and tinselly-guess who called me that?-but when I make a promise I keep it.’

For some reason Elinor believed her.

‘But why are you being like this?’ she asked. ‘I don’t understand.’

‘You mean why aren’t I jealous that he moved another lady in here?’

‘You’ve nothing to be jea-’

‘Skip it. You’d have expected a fit, jealous or otherwise. Sorry. Can’t oblige. Oh, there was a time when I thought the sun shone out of Andrew, but that was before I discovered what a bore he was.’

‘A bore? Andrew?’ The exclamation was jerked out of Elinor.

‘There, I knew you were high-minded!’ Myra exclaimed as though she’d scored a victory. ‘Good luck to you. Actually this rather suits me.’

Elinor pulled herself together. This woman’s determination to arrange life to suit herself had a hypnotic quality.

‘I’m sorry, but you’re under a misapprehension,’ she said firmly. ‘Hetta and I are leaving tomorrow.’

‘Damn! Have you and Andrew quarrelled?’

‘No,’ Elinor said stiffly.

‘Has he thrown you out?’

‘No.’

‘Then why are you leaving?’

‘Because Hetta is greatly improved and it’s time to move on.’

‘Why?’

‘I’m sorry, I can’t discuss that with you.’

‘Where are you going?’

‘I don’t see why I should dis-’

‘Oh, nonsense, of course you can. This is important. Have you got somewhere better than this?’

‘No, we’re going to a small hotel where I have a friend living. She owned the boarding house that burned down but it’ll soon be rebuilt so-’

‘You’re dumping Andrew for a boarding house? C’mon! Stay here. It’s much nicer.’

‘That’s not the point,’ Elinor said, feeling desperate. It was like trying to argue with a juggernaut. ‘Even if I weren’t going you couldn’t just leave Simon here without telling Andrew first.’

‘Then let’s tell him. You call him up while I make us something to eat.’

Elinor watched helplessly as Myra whisked herself into the kitchen and set about preparing. There was no doubt she was the expert cook for whom the place had been created. She started with milk shakes for the children, who downed them eagerly.

‘Go in the garden, kids, and I’ll have something more filling for you in a minute,’ she called. To Elinor she said, ‘Go on, get calling.’

There was nothing to do but obey, although she flinched at the thought of calling a man who’d made it so clear that she embarrassed him. She used the hall phone, and in a few moments she heard Andrew’s voice, terse, commanding. ‘Yes?’

‘It’s me,’ she said. ‘I’m sorry to disturb you at work but something’s happened.’

‘Hetta?’

‘No, Myra, your ex-wife. She’s here, and she’s got Simon with her. And I think she means him to stay when she goes.’

‘I don’t understand.’

‘She’s going to America to get married, and she’s not taking him.’

‘Put her on,’ he snapped.

Elinor returned to the kitchen. ‘Andrew wants to talk to you.’

‘Sorry, I’m too busy.’

‘You can’t be. It’s what you came here for.’

‘No way. I didn’t come here for a phone conversation with Andrew. I can do that anywhere. Where’s the raspberry sauce? You’ve moved it.’

‘Top shelf. Please come and talk to him.’

‘Nope. It was handier on the middle shelf.’

‘Not for me. Hetta doesn’t like it.’

‘Simon adores it with ice cream and milk shake. I’ll have some sent to you, but don’t let him make a pig of himself. Better get back to Andrew.’

Elinor gave up and returned to the hall. ‘She won’t come,’ she told Andrew.

She could hear him grinding his teeth. ‘Tell her-’

She returned to Myra and spoke in a carefully expressionless voice. ‘He says stop playing damn fool games and pick up the phone.’

Myra gave a rich crow of laughter. ‘Don’t worry, I won’t embarrass you by responding in kind.’

To Elinor’s relief Myra went out into the hall. But she merely hung up the phone and returned to the kitchen. ‘No point in arguing,’ she explained airily. ‘He just doesn’t listen.’

The telephone immediately rang and Elinor raced to snatch it up. ‘It’s not my fault,’ she said, harassed.

‘I know that. All right, please tell her I’ll be over this evening. Are you all right? Is she making herself unpleasant?’

‘No,’ Elinor said wryly. ‘I think she’s a little crazy, but not unpleasant.’

She found Myra in the garden with the children, who were playing with the puppy. She had a moment to watch them unobserved, and hear Hetta’s giggles of glee.

Then Myra hailed her. ‘You stay here while I finish doing the eats,’ she said. ‘I’ll yell when I’m ready.’ She headed back to the house.

‘Mummy, look at the puppy,’ Hetta called. ‘His name’s Fudge.’

‘That’s because he’s that pale brown colour,’ Simon put in.

Fudge promptly squatted on the ground and produced an enormous puddle.

‘He’s nervous at being in a new place,’ Simon hurried to say. ‘And he’s out in the garden. He is house-trained.’ Honesty made him add, ‘Well, sort of.’

She felt sad for the child, feeling the need to placate her. This was more his house than hers. What sort of a life had he had, between a distant father and the selfish, manipulative mother?

Hetta and Simon were already at ease with each other. He seemed to be a quiet, gentle child, and she couldn’t help realising that he would be the ideal playmate for Hetta. She, for her part, had already given him the ultimate token of friendship, hauling up her T-shirt and displaying her wound with enormous pride. Simon had been suitably impressed.