HELEN BROOKS - The Price Of A Wife

‘By yourself?’ There was a dry, mordant note in the lazy voice now that immediately grated on her nerves. He turned from her, taking her arm and leading her into the small cocktail bar just off Reception.

‘There’s nothing wrong with being by yourself,’ she said hotly, stung into temper. ‘Besides which I have lots of friends, and my cat—’

‘Josie, old ladies of ninety have lots of friends and a cat,’ he drawled, with inexcusable amusement. ‘Now, our table at the restaurant isn’t booked until half-past nine, and I’d like you to try a particularly delicious cocktail here before we leave. I’m sure you’ll love it.’

‘What’s it called?’ she asked tightly, her temper still at boiling point but unable to do anything about it with the attentive barman hovering in front of them as though Luke were royalty.

‘Chaste Delight.’ He raised one sardonic eyebrow at her as he spoke. ‘Although I rather think that is a contradiction in terms... Good evening, George.’

The silver gaze turned to centre on the barman not a moment too soon as her urge to kick him became almost overwhelming. ‘How’s your wife?’

‘Getting along nicely now, Mr Hawkton, thank you,’ the barman said, with a deference that Josie found intensely irritating in the circumstances. ‘We’ve roped the grandparents in to help out a bit; they love it and it gives Frieda a break.’

‘Good idea. All hands to the plough—or in this case three ploughs.’ Luke glanced at her with a wry smile. ‘George’s wife recently gave birth to triplets; they don’t do things by halves over here. That’ll teach you to marry a big, healthy German girl, George,’ he continued smoothly as Josie forced herself to smile politely. ‘If you’d stayed in the old country you wouldn’t have had this problem.’

‘No problem, Mr Hawkton.’ The other man grinned cheerfully. ‘You want to see the mugshots?’

‘Do I have a choice?’ Luke returned wryly but with a warm smile. ‘And while we do that perhaps you’d mix a Chaste Delight for the lady, and I’d better have a mineral water, George. I’m driving.’

Josie steeled herself for what was to follow but it still hurt; it always did. Three little cocoons with tiny faces exposed to the camera in the arms of their proud parents. Three. She kept the smile in place with gritted teeth. It wasn’t fair. Life just wasn’t fair.

‘They’re very sweet.’ She handed the photographs back to Luke as though they had burnt her, and George busied himself with serving their drinks before disappearing to the other end of the bar as another couple wandered in.

‘Did I detect a note of boredom there?’ Luke asked softly as she took a long, deep swallow of her frothy pink cocktail to quell the trembling in her stomach.

‘Boredom?’ She was immensely glad of the kick in the drink as she raised purposefully blank eyes to his. ‘No, not at all.’

‘Do you like children?’ he asked quietly.

He had no idea what this conversation was doing to her, and she drew on every scrap of strength she had won over the last few years and answered flatly, her voice even, ‘I suppose so. I don’t really come into contact with any.’

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