Lucy Gordon - His Pretend Wife

‘When I employed you as child-minder I didn’t envisage you going this far.’

‘I’m like you. I like to do my job properly. Besides, the way I see it, I still owe you for Hetta’s life. If I can help you with Simon, we’re quits.’

‘I see,’ he said quietly. ‘Yes, I never thought of it like that.’

After that there were some phone calls that she didn’t understand, or, rather, didn’t ask about. She found herself talking to a woman with a voice like cut glass, who turned out to be the secretary of Sir Elmer Rylance. She fetched Andrew to the phone and returned to the children, trying not to speculate.

She made no further mention of his taking time off, and nor did he. She concluded that he’d either forgotten the matter or dismissed it. She was angry with him. She didn’t press the matter, but she had a sense of failure. She’d tried to believe that in this matter at least she could be good for him, but it seemed that he now dismissed her opinions as easily as he did everyone else’s.

Only when she’d totally given up hope did he arrive home one evening and say, ‘That’s it! No more hospital for a week.’

The children bounded about in excitement. Over their heads Andrew met her eyes with a look that startled her. It was almost as though he was asking for her approval.

‘Why did you keep it to yourself until now?’ she asked when she could make herself heard through the riot.

‘I wasn’t sure until the last minute. It depended on whether my replacement arrived in time, but he did.’

‘Is he as good as you?’ she couldn’t resist asking.

He looked at her. ‘Almost. He thinks he’s better.’

‘If he’s so brilliant, how come he’s available?’

‘He’s been offered three other jobs, but the one he wants is Elmer’s, so he’s been keeping himself free. He jumped at this.’

Of course he would, Elinor thought. It was the chance to work under Rylance’s nose and pip the other candidates to the post. And Andrew had stood back and let him do it, because she’d as good as asked him to. But her stab of pleasure was quickly suppressed. He’d done it for Simon, not her. And it might be a disaster for him.

Too late now to say anything. It was done. And Andrew was already going into the garden with the children.

He joined her later that night for their regular glass of wine while Fudge snuffled in the undergrowth.

‘Could your replacement really harm you?’ she asked.

‘In one week?’ he demanded. ‘You don’t think much of my skill.’

‘A determined man can do a lot in a week.’

‘He can do his worst,’ Andrew said arrogantly. ‘I gather you think I might soon be on my uppers. That’s a pity, because I was going to suggest that we should get married.’

‘What?’ She tried to see him but there was no moon tonight and she could only make out his shape. His face was hidden from her.

‘It makes a lot of sense, Ellie. We make a pretty good family. Simon loves you and he’s crazy about Hetta.’

‘Just a minute-’

‘We have to think where this arrangement is going. If we don’t marry then sooner or later we’ll split up. You’re an excellent employee, but employees leave. I want you to stay.’

‘It takes a lot more than that to make a family,’ she said in a toneless voice. She’d thought Andrew had hurt her in every possible way, but she hadn’t thought of this. Marry her to keep a good employee!

‘Of course it does, but I’m sure we can make it work. I’m probably not putting this very well, but if you’ll only give it some thought-for everyone’s sake-’

‘Everyone? Does that include me?’

He stared at her, trying to discern on her face what had disturbed him in her voice. ‘You don’t think this might be a good idea for you?’

‘I don’t think there could be a worse idea for me. I’ve told you I’ll stay while you need me, but I’m making a condition. Don’t ever, ever mention this again.’

She rose and walked away towards the house, with Fudge trotting after her, leaving him sitting alone in the darkness.

It was Andrew who noticed that there was a funfair about a mile away, and he who suggested that they should go. He was also the one to set the date.

‘The day after tomorrow,’ he said, ‘because that’s Ellie’s birthday.’

Hetta stared. ‘How did you know? I didn’t tell you.’

‘I’m a magician,’ he said, and that satisfied her.

‘I don’t want to make a fuss about my birthday,’ she muttered as soon as they were alone.

‘Too late. Give your friend Daisy a call and ask her to stay with us that night.’

It would be good to see Daisy again, but she would inevitably take over the children, leaving her too much with Andrew. She’d been steering clear of him ever since he’d made her that insulting offer of marriage, but it was hard now he was at home for the week. He strode off without waiting for an answer, and a few minutes later he departed on a gift-buying expedition with the children.

When her birthday came they all made the breakfast, then plied her with gifts. From Hetta there was a brooch in the shape of a heart, and from Simon a pair of slippers. Andrew’s gift was a scarf, made of wool and silk. It was exquisite and expensive, but not so much as to invite comment. She thanked him quietly, and promised to wear it that evening.

The taxi arrived with Daisy, and now she was glad her old friend was there to shield her from the attention. Her thoughts had been in turmoil ever since the other night. There had been a brief temptation to say yes, marry him anyway and count on her own love to be enough.

Try as she might, she couldn’t stop her thoughts wandering down that path. To the outside world they looked like a family, two parents and two children. It was tempting to think that they really were a family, to pretend that she were his wife, as she might once have been.

These days, when he took the children into the village, and the three of them returned to find her getting them a snack in the kitchen, they would greet each other with smiles, and for a moment she could think, This is how it would be if we were married.

And it could still happen. She could tell him she’d reconsidered and decided that it was a sensible idea. But the word ‘sensible’ checked her. Her love alone would never be enough for the two of them, and only misery could come from trying to make it.

On the afternoon of her birthday the phone rang. Elinor was alone when she answered it, and she was immediately glad.

‘Hi, sweetie,’ came Myra’s voice singing down the line. ‘How’s tricks?’

‘We’re doing very well,’ Elinor said. ‘Do you want to talk to Simon?’

‘Thanks, but I just got off the line to him an hour ago.’

‘How’s Detroit?’

‘Hot. Muggy. But Cyrus is letting me have the swimming pool enlarged. I thought of making it like a Roman bath house. What do you think?’

‘I think it’ll be very “you”,’ Elinor said.

Myra’s crack of laughter showed that she fully understood this tact. ‘I called to say happy birthday!’ she said.

‘Thank you. How did you know?’

‘Simon told me. He says you’re going out on this great party. Big funfair.’

‘That’s right. An old friend of mine is here, so there’ll be three of us looking out for the children.’

‘Good, have a great time. And listen, I have a birthday gift for you.’

‘That’s very kind. I’ll look forward to it.’

‘No, I’m going to give it to you now. I knew I’d seen you somewhere before as soon as we met, and now it’s come to me. It’s you in that photograph.’

‘What photograph?’

‘The one Andrew keeps with him. Or I should say one of the ones he keeps with him. There’s about a dozen of them. Him and this girl with masses of blonde hair, sitting together, their arms around each other, kissing. And sometimes just her on her own. He didn’t know that I knew. I found them in his desk drawer one day, and I never told him. So you were the ghost.’