The Second Wife aka Wives Behaving Badly

and it’s haunting me. I can’t get this picture out of my head that he’s thinking I’ve let him down.’ She wrapped her skirt round her fingers, bandage-style. ‘I hate to think he’d be disappointed in me.’

‘You’ve got to talk to Richard, Poppy’

She shook her head. ‘I have to deal with it myself. It was a mistake, and just because I’m married to Richard it doesn’t mean he has to know everything about me.’ She fingered her handbag strap. ‘My poker debt is a private matter.’

‘What about your mother? She’d understand.’

‘You don’t know Mum,’ Poppy said miserably. ‘She’s not forgiving on some things. What I need is the money Dad left me. Then I can pay off my debt and I won’t bother you again.’

‘Theo’s still wrestling with the Inland Revenue. There were a couple of problems that no one could iron out to do with the money your father inherited from your grandmother.’ I was curious. ‘Why did you do it, Poppy?’

She shrugged. ‘It was exciting. I thought I could beat the system. All the usual excuses.’ She observed a point on the wall. ‘So boring and predictable.’

She was so agitated that I got up, went to the water-cooler and ran a mugful. I pressed it into her hands. ‘You know, it’s all perfectly manageable.’

Barry walked down the corridor and raised an eyebrow. I made a nondescript gesture, and he disappeared. I glanced at my watch. Time was leapfrogging and Lucas was due to run in the egg-and-spoon.

Poppy noticed the gesture. ‘I’m sorry to bother you, Minty. I know you’re busy’ The concession was so unexpected that I sat down beside her with a thump. ‘I don’t understand, Minty, why I was caught. Then I think I wanted to be caught by it… Oh, what the hell? What the hell?’

There was not much slack in my finances, but sufficient to take a temporary knock. I reached into my handbag for my cheque book. ‘Look, why don’t I lend you some for the moment? It’ll stave off the problem, and then you and I will go to see Theo. He’s bound to confidentiality.’

Poppy raised her head. ‘Would you do that?’

Her astonishment was almost offensive but, funnily enough, I understood. ‘Yes.’

‘O?. Thanks.’ Tears streamed down Poppy’s cheeks. ‘I’m a mess… Minty. That’s what I am. And what do I do about it?’

Egg-and-spoon race. Next up the sack race. Felix was in that one. I hauled my notebook out of my bag. ‘Actually, Poppy, I’ve done some research on counselling.’

‘Counselling!’ She was dismissive.

I stared at her. Are you serious or not?’

Poppy didn’t answer. I grabbed her wrist, hauled her out of Paradox, hailed the first taxi and told him to drive to an address in South Kensington. ‘I’m taking you to a counsellor who’s highly recommended. When we get there, Poppy, you’re going to make an appointment and I’m going to watch you do it.’

By the time I arrived at the common, the races had been run, the rosettes pinned on to chests and the picnics were in full swing.

There was the usual melee of parents, mostly mothers, with one or two progressive, unemployed or browbeaten fathers. An area of the common had been roped off. It contained a table on which flapped a white cloth held down by several silver cups. Their status came under the heading ‘reprieved’: the cups were the relic of an earlier era and there had been much solemn debate among the staff as to whether competitive races should be allowed.

It was hot and sunny, and children in blue shorts and T-shirts ran about like ants on speed. It took me two seconds to locate Rose in the crowd. She was sitting on a tartan rug with Felix, an open cool bag between them, and her full pink skirt was the colour of a flower. Eve was with another group, chatting to a friend. A similar tableau was repeated ad infinitum: tartan rugs, open cool bags from which crisps, cold pizza, fruit juice, and wine – to save the adults’ sanity – flowed.

Rose waved a cocktail sausage in the air, and said something to Felix, who laughed so hard that he fell back on the rug and kicked his legs in the air. He always threw himself backwards when I made a joke but I hadn’t seen him laugh like that for a long time.

‘Hello.’ I collapsed on to the rug beside them.

Rose was cool. ‘Hello, Minty. Lucas is over there.’ She pointed to a knot clustered round the PE teacher. ‘He did well.’

Felix thrust a sausage at me. ‘Careful.’ I bent to kiss him. He was hot and sweaty, and smelt of wine gums and orange juice, which was not particularly enticing but dearer to me than anything else I could think of. ‘How did you do?’ I whispered.

He pressed his mouth to my ear, and the roar of his breath assaulted my eardrum. ‘I came tenth, Mummy’

Rose gazed into the middle distance. A couple of teams were conducting an impromptu tug-of-war. ‘The boys kept asking where you were. Whatever it was, I hope it was worth it.’

‘I do too,’ I echoed fervently.

‘Really, really worth it,’ she repeated. ‘Lucas was… a little tearful. He won the egg-and-spoon.’

I knew what Rose was thinking. Hell bent on pursuing my career, I was prepared to sacrifice my sons’ happiness and welfare. ‘Oh, come on, Rose, you know as well as I do what happens in the office. You told me that whenever Sam and Poppy had a carol service or sports day or whatever, there was a last-minute panic or holdup at Vistemax, which made you late.’

Rose had always been fair. ‘True.’

I squinted to where Lucas was at the centre of the PE-teacher huddle. ‘What’s going on?’

‘A disputed second and third in the twenty-metre race.’ The implication was that I should know what was going on. ‘He was so hoping you’d turn up in time to see him run. They both were.’ She paused and said quietly, ‘But you were carrying on in your own sweet way, Minty.’

‘Sometimes you sound like Nathan,’ I remarked.

At that, she flinched and reflected for a moment. ‘But Nathan would have asked what could be more important than supporting your sons at sports day’ She shaded her eyes, watching Lucas. ‘At least, that was the sort of thing he said to me.’

‘Rose, I didn’t want to be late.’

Felix tilted back his head. ‘Are you talking about my daddy?’ He blinked his blue eyes. ‘Did Daddy run in races?’

‘I’m pretty sure he did, Felix.’ There was a proprietorial note in Rose’s voice – to which I objected. Lucas came running over, the windmill in full sail. He was grubby and happy. He brushed past without seeing me, and flung himself against Rose. ‘I was very fast.’

‘Yes, you were. Felix and I are hoarse from shouting.’ She placed a finger on the rosette pinned to his shirt.

‘Lukey,’ I said, feeling the flame of jealousy, ‘hello. Let me see your rosette.’

Rose looked up, and read my thoughts. She could almost have said, But you took Nathan. Instead, she raised her eyebrows and murmured to Lucas, ‘Have you said hello to Mummy?’

I clasped Lucas to me. I don’t know why I didn’t defend myself and explain to Rose why I had been late. There was no reason for me to defend Poppy, except perhaps a curious loyalty.

Rose stacked the plastic picnic plates and mugs. She swept up the crisps packets and stowed them in the cool bag. ‘Have you eaten? There’s a sandwich left.’

‘No, thank you.’ My voice shook.

Rose’s self-command was perfect. She dusted a shard of crisp from her finger. ‘Now that you’ve turned up, I think perhaps I should go.’ She picked up a canvas bag and hitched the handle over her shoulder.

A couple of yards away, a toddler was roaring for its mother, a posse of children were playing tag, darting between the spread rugs, and one of the teachers was telling off a sullen girl with scraggy plaits. ‘It’s a long time since I’ve been at a sports day’ Rose pointed at the roaring toddler. ‘Presumably it has a mother. By the way…’ She hesitated. ‘Minty, I don’t know what you’d say to this, but Felix has been going on about a kitten. Would you allow me to get you one? I know a source.’

‘No,’ I said flatly. ‘No kittens. No cats.’

‘O?. It’s just that it might help Felix -’