Alison Fraser - Tainted Love

‘He doesn’t say so, but I know he feels guilty,’ Louise confided. ‘He thinks he’s letting Miles down again, although what could he have done the first time?’

‘The first time?’ Clare echoed automatically.

‘When Diana won custody of Miles,’ Louise explained, before asking her, ‘Fen did tell you about his wife, didn’t he?’

‘Not really.’ Clare didn’t think Fen Marchand was the type for confidences. His sister, however, had no such reservations.

‘They met at Oxford. Diana was an undergraduate while Fen was working for his doctorate,’ she ran on. ‘She was very beautiful, Diana. Head-turning, you might say. Quite clever, too, I suppose. It was the first and last time Fen acted on impulse. He married her within six months of their meeting...’ Louise paused to shake her head over the fact.

Clare kept quiet, unable to visualise a Fen Marchand who acted on impulse.

‘Unfortunately Miles came along after a year,’ Louise added, ‘and motherhood was the last thing Diana was suited to. Miles was barely a month old when she disappeared on a cruise with her rich father, leaving Fen and Miles to look after themselves. That pretty much set the pattern for the next five years until she bowed out altogether.’

‘But she fought for Miles’s custody,’ Clare replied, frowning.

‘Only at her father’s insistence,’ Louise revealed. ‘A self-made man, he wanted a male heir to take over his electronics firm. He footed her legal bill, and, unbelievably, some idiot judge decided Miles would be better off with his mother. So, after spending eight years of his life at Woodside, the boy suddenly found himself living in South Kensington with his grandfather.’

‘Not his mother?’ Clare was a little lost.

‘Officially, yes—’ Louise pulled a face ‘—but, by that time, Diana was following her latest boyfriend round the polo circuit. Fen saw the boy more often on access visits. It was hell for him. He could see old man Derwent ruining Miles as he had ruined Diana, but could do little about it.

‘Then disaster really struck,’ Louise went on unhappily. ‘Derwent died and that left Diana with custody. She might have handed Miles back, only Derwent left the bulk of his fortune to the boy in trust, and where he went control of his trust went.’

‘So she kept him,’ Clare concluded, her heart going out to the boy caught in the middle.

Louise nodded. ‘Fen was disraught. He didn’t trust Diana to take care of him properly and immediately filed for custody. Diana countered by whisking Mikes away abroad.’

‘To America?’ Clare recalled Miles saying he’d lived in L.A.

‘Via Australia and South America,’ Louise recounted. ‘Diana spent six months country-hopping, with Miles as excess baggage, while Fen desperately tried to locate them long enough to get a court order implemented, forcing her to return the boy to the UK.’

Once more Clare was surprised. From their brief encounter, she’d thought Fen Marchand almost indifferent to his son.

Louise read her mind, and claimed, ‘They’d been so close, Miles and his father, but their years apart have done untold damage. Miles feel his father let him down, and, I suspect, Fen feels the same. He wants to make it up to him, but doesn’t want to spoil him in the process... Which sort of brings me to the point of my visit,’ Louise concluded finally. ‘As Miles plainly loathes the idea of boarding-school, Fen asked him what would make him happy? And you’ll never guess what he said!’

While Louise paused for effect, Clare guessed the truth. She just didn’t believe it.

‘Well...’ Louise could hardly contain her satisfaction ‘...it seems Miles took a real shine to you, Clare, and he’s promised that if you were to come and housekeep for them he’d be on his absolutely best behaviour. Can you credit it?’ The older woman smiled as if something miraculous had occurred.

Clare didn’t see it that way. If she held some appeal for the boy, it was a momentary thing and based on all the wrong reasons. He saw her as a fellow traveller, at odds with the rest of the world. She wouldn’t dispute that—but it hardly made her a candidate for the role of Mary Poppins.

‘How did the professor react?’ she asked point-blank.

‘Well...he was taken aback,’ Louise admitted carefully, and Clare’s lips spread in a thin smile as she imagined how taken aback Marchand would have been. ‘However,’ Louise added quickly, ‘he’s come round to the idea now.’

‘The idea?’

‘Of your being housekeeper.’

Clare still couldn’t take it in. Marchand was willing to give her the job to please his son?

‘He feels he may not have been very fair to you on the day of the interview,’ Louise relayed, ‘and he’s prepared to give you a month’s trial. What do you think?’

The older woman’s smile said she expected Clare to be grateful for the opportunity.

Because she liked Louise Carlton, Clare forced a smile in return. But inside she wondered how the other woman had managed to reach the age of fifty-odd and remain one of life’s innocents. Didn’t she realise that this was just a way of Marchand hiring her until the boy got over his ‘fancy’ for her? When that happened, she’d be out the door quicker than she could say ‘month’s trial’.

‘You’ll have your own little flat in the house,’ Louise went on persuasively, ‘with shower, kitchenette and television, and a salary of eight thousand pounds plus keep.’

‘Eight thousand pounds?’ Clare was shocked by the amount.

Louise misunderstood. ‘Yes, it didn’t seem much to me, either, but at least you wouldn’t have living expenses,’ she pointed out.

‘It’s fine,’ Clare assured her quickly. ‘In fact, it’s much more than I expected, with my not having any real experience.’

‘Well, don’t worry.’ Louise smiled again. ‘Fen can afford it. He has a considerable private income as well as his professor’s salary.’

‘Really?’ Clare wasn’t altogether surprised at this. Although the house was not ostentatiously large, the sheer understated elegance of Woodside Hall whispered money. Old money, if Clare wasn’t very much mistaken.

‘When does he want me to start?’ she asked Louise.

‘Oh, as soon as you can,’ Louise said with obvious relief. ‘I’m holding the fort at present, but I just have to return to London this week. There are so many things I should have done, only I was ill.’

‘You work too hard.’ Clare had some idea of Louise’s busy timetable of voluntary work from their conversations in prison.

Clare remembered how she herself had been unenthusiastic about her visits at first, but had come to like and respect Louise Carlton. She realised that it had been an act of faith for Louise to suggest her for this job.

‘I can start immediately,’ she declared resolutely, and drew a beaming smile in response. ‘I’ll just pack.’

‘Are you sure?’ Louise protested for form’s sake. ‘I’ll drive you up with your cases.’

‘It’s all right,’ Clare replied. ‘I only have the one. I can go by train.’

‘One case?’ Louise watched with concern as the younger woman packed all her worldly possessions into a single battered suitcase. ‘My dear girl, you’re going to need some more clothes. We’ll shop on the way.’

Clare shook her head, saying simply, ‘I have no money.’

‘Never mind. My treat!’ Louise announced with her usual generosity.

Clare shook her head again. ‘Thanks very much, but I’ll wait till I get my wages and buy something.’

‘Clare,’ the older woman pursued, ‘please let me get you something. I can easily afford it and I’d enjoy having someone young and pretty to dress for a change.’