Lucy Gordon - His Pretend Wife

At last Myra called, ‘Come and get it!’ and they all trooped to the house where she’d laid the table out on the patio.

The meal was a roaring success. Myra was skilled and imaginative, and she knew how to appeal to children. It was hard to dislike her. She was a tough cookie, who seemed to have little in the way of finer feelings. But she was good-natured, and had an outgoing quality that made her company pleasant for a while. Elinor guessed she liked everyone around her to be happy, and would even put herself out to achieve it-as long as she was sure of getting her own way in the end.

She also had a gift for telling a funny story. Despite her unease about Andrew’s imminent arrival, Elinor found herself smiling at the tale of Fudge and a donkey. The children hooted with laughter.

They were like that when Andrew came in.

He’d meant to ring the front doorbell, but finding the side gate to the garden open he’d walked around the house until he’d heard laughing voices. Nobody heard him arrive, and he had a moment to stand, taking in the cheerful scene in which he had no part.

It was Elinor who saw him first, glancing up just before he controlled his expression. She rose and the movement alerted the attention of the others. Hetta beamed. Myra regarded him with a cynical smile. Simon looked pleased but uncertain what to expect. Andrew gave a brief nod in his direction, and an even briefer smile. Unease radiated from him.

‘Good evening, Myra,’ he said.

‘You’re just in time for some coffee, Andrew. Let’s go in, it’s getting a little chilly.’

When they had all moved into the living room Myra said, ‘Kids, why don’t you go and watch television upstairs?’

‘I’ll go too,’ Elinor said hastily.

‘Better if you stay,’ Myra observed. ‘Andrew and I can only take so much of each other’s company undiluted.’

Elinor looked at Andrew. ‘Please stay,’ he requested.

When the children had gone upstairs, clutching Fudge, the three of them surveyed each other uneasily. Elinor felt almost overwhelmed by the bittersweet shock of Andrew’s presence after she had accepted that she would never see him again. But she tried to keep a clear head, sensing she was going to need all her wits about her in the next few minutes.

‘Myra, if you’ve come to make trouble-’ Andrew began.

‘But I haven’t. When did I ever make trouble?’

‘I won’t answer that.’

‘When you two have finished quarrelling, it’s the kids’ bedtime, and I need to know where Simon’s sleeping,’ Elinor said firmly.

‘But here, of course,’ Myra said sweetly. ‘In his father’s house.’

‘With no warning?’ Andrew snapped. ‘You must be out of your mind.’

‘Well, it’s very simple. I’m off to Detroit to marry Cyrus, and really I can’t take a little boy on my honeymoon, even if he wanted to come, which he very sensibly doesn’t. He’s thrilled at the thought of staying with you. You’ve let him down so often, but not this time.’

‘Do you think I have time to care for a child?’

‘Not you. Your girlfriend.’

‘Ellie-Mrs Landers-is not my girlfriend, as you so vulgarly put it.’

‘Nothing vulgar in having a girlfriend. It’s about time you thought of something other than a scalpel.’

‘If anybody’s interested, I am leaving tomorrow morning,’ Elinor said desperately.

‘No, you’re not,’ Myra said airily. ‘We settled all that.’

‘Did we?’ Elinor asked blankly.

‘Be nice to her, Andrew. She’s going to get you out of a hole.’ She turned to Elinor. ‘You don’t mind getting him out of a hole, do you, Ellie? I can call you Ellie, can’t I?’

‘No,’ Andrew said harshly.

Myra became businesslike. ‘Look, it’s very simple. Simon is going to stay with you for a while. He’s here now, he’s got all his stuff, and he’s looking forward to it. But if you refuse, then I’ll take him away with me now, and he’ll come with me to Detroit, and he’ll stay there. For good. I swear you’ll never see him again.’

He stared at her in a fury. ‘You’re bluffing.’

‘I’m doing you a favour, forcing you to engage with your son before it’s too late. So what happens? Do I take him away from you for good?’

‘You know I won’t let you do that.’

‘Fine. He stays here.’

‘You’ve already heard Mrs Landers say that she’s leaving,’ Andrew said in a tight voice.

‘Then you’ll have to persuade her to stay, won’t you? I’m making some more coffee. Anybody want some?’ She floated into the kitchen, as much at ease as though this were a social occasion.

Andrew could hardly look at Elinor.

‘What do you want me to do?’ she asked.

‘I can’t let her take him away for good, but if you leave she’ll do that,’ he said harshly.

She hesitated, torn. ‘I don’t think she really means that bit.’

‘When she makes a threat she carries it out. Help me, Ellie, for God’s sake!’

‘But what use can I be?’

‘Stay here. Let him live with you and Hetta.’

‘But it’s you he wants.’

‘I’ll visit as often as I can.’

‘That’s not enough.’

He met her eyes. ‘Then I’ll move back in.’

‘Let us understand each other,’ she said in a voice that was steadier than she felt. ‘You wish me to be your housekeeper and child-minder.’

‘Whatever you want to call it,’ he said impatiently. ‘Does it matter?’

‘Yes, it matters. It will be impossible unless we define our precise relationship.’

‘Very well. Housekeeper and child-minder.’

‘And you will give me a proper contract of employment, defining my precise duties, and my salary?’

‘Very well.’

‘All right,’ she said very quietly. ‘I’ll do it.’

It would be hard. He saw her as a convenience. But at least now she need not leave him for a while. Her heart would break in the end. But not just yet.

Myra returned with coffee, which neither of the others wanted.

‘Got it all sorted?’ she sang out. ‘Jolly good. By the way, Andrew, Simon thinks you invited him. Don’t let him guess otherwise.’

‘Don’t worry, he won’t,’ Elinor said. ‘I’ll see to that.’ She was beginning to reappraise Myra.

Myra beamed at her. ‘I knew you wouldn’t let me down.’ She flicked open her cell phone. ‘Joe? You can come for me in fifteen minutes.’ She hung up. ‘I’ll go and say goodbye to Simon.’

She tripped away, apparently oblivious to the tension between the other two.

‘Thank you,’ he said. ‘I can’t think straight. She just sprung this on me-’

‘Well, maybe she needed to,’ Elinor observed lightly.

‘You’re on her side?’

‘I’m on your little boy’s side. I think he’s getting a raw deal. He’s much too quiet and docile for his age. When is he ever naughty?’

‘I don’t know.’

‘I’ll bet he never is. And he ought to be. Come on, let’s go.’ She headed for the door.

‘Where are we going?’

‘Upstairs, so that he can see you and Myra together, and know that you’re in complete accord about his being here. I think you should stand together, and if possible put your arm around her shoulders. And smile at her.’

‘That’s a lot to ask.’

‘It’s not really, but even if it is, he’s your son. Isn’t he worth the effort?’

‘Of course, but-’

‘Then do it,’ she said in a voice that brooked no argument.

She didn’t know what had made her take a high hand with him, unless it was the memory of Simon’s face, beaming at the sight of his father, but cautiously holding back.

He followed her unwillingly upstairs and along to the room that had been Simon’s and was now Hetta’s.