His Pretend Wife

‘I had to come down and see Andrew ’cos he came to visit me.’

‘Of course,’ Andrew agreed.

‘Can I have some milk?’ Hetta begged, sounding like a starving orphan.

‘Will you go straight back to bed afterwards?’ Elinor countered.

‘She’s only just arrived,’ Andrew protested.

‘Andrew hasn’t seen my scar yet.’

‘And I haven’t seen her scar yet.’

It dawned on Elinor that behind the humour he had a serious purpose. He wanted Hetta to stay for his own reasons: perhaps because he felt more at ease with another person there.

She went into the kitchen for milk, and returned to find the other two deep in discussion of medical matters. Hetta was displaying her scar with immense pride, while Andrew studied it and observed how well it had healed.

‘How do you enjoy living here?’ he asked.

‘Heaps,’ Hetta said at once. ‘There’s a huge garden and a swing, and-’ her voice became blissful ‘-Mummy’s here all the time.’

‘I haven’t been with her enough in the past,’ Elinor said quickly. ‘I had to work and it took me away a lot. But now we’re together all day, just the two of us. As Hetta says, it’s lovely.’

‘I’m glad,’ Andrew said. He looked back to Hetta. ‘Do you still have those nightmares?’

‘Not really,’ she said in a considering tone. ‘I have funny dreams with lots of things happening, but I’m not scared any more. Not since you told me about them.’ She suddenly looked into his face. ‘Do you have bad dreams?’

He flinched. ‘Why do you ask that?’

‘You look as if you do.’

‘Hetta,’ Elinor protested. ‘Manners.’

Andrew was looking uncomfortable and it dawned on her that Hetta had touched a nerve. ‘Well, everyone does sometimes,’ he said. ‘Now it’s time you went back to bed. It’s very late.’

‘Will you tuck me up, and I can show you my room?’

‘Darling-’ Elinor said in quick dismay, but Andrew had already risen and taken the child’s hand.

Elinor guessed that the bedroom had been his son’s, but he might have been seeing it for the first time as he let Hetta show it to him. It was strange to watch them. Anyone seeing the three of them, not knowing the truth, would have thought them a perfect family. Hetta herself was overjoyed to have her friend back, blissfully ignorant of the undercurrents and tensions between the adults. And maybe her perspective was the right one.

At last she was asleep and they crept out and down the stairs.

‘I must be going now,’ Andrew said. ‘Please don’t think of leaving this house. I won’t trouble you.’

‘Is that what you think you are? A trouble to me? After what I owe you?’

‘I wish you wouldn’t talk about owing me. That isn’t how I think of it. And I only meant that I’m not going to use your circumstances to force my presence on you. You can’t go. She’s happy. Don’t take that away from her just because we once-because of things that don’t matter any more.’ He looked at her wryly. ‘If they ever really mattered.’

‘Didn’t they?’ she couldn’t resist asking.

‘I don’t know. I don’t think I can remember by now. Other things become important, other griefs can be greater, and suddenly you wonder what it was all about. But I know this. There’s nothing in our past that should drive you away from here.’

‘Thank you,’ she said, trying to be as relieved as he plainly meant her to, but feeling only an ache. ‘It’s kind of you-’ She stopped, her gaze fixed on his face. ‘Andrew, you’re dead on your feet. You can’t keep your eyes open, can you?’

‘I’ll be all right. The night air will wake me up.’

‘You won’t be in the air, you’ll be in the car, and you’ll probably crash it.’ As if to confirm her words he closed his eyes again. She took his arm and led him firmly back to the living room, and almost pushed him down onto the sofa.

‘You were crazy coming out here so late after the day you’ve had. It could have waited until tomorrow.’

‘No, it couldn’t, not after I didn’t turn up last night. I needed to talk to you, make you understand.’

‘I understand that you’re not fit to drive.’

‘Perhaps if you made me a coffee-’

‘The only thing I’m making for you is a bed. You’re sleeping here.’

‘Am I?’

‘Yes. How much sleep did you get last night?’

‘Three or four hours. I honestly don’t remember.’

‘Tell me which room.’

‘The one with the pine door,’ he said vaguely.

‘Key.’

‘It’s on my keyring.’

‘Which is?’

‘In the drawer of my desk-in the study.’ He seemed to be having trouble thinking of the words.

‘And the key to that?’ she persisted.

‘Oh-yes.’

He felt in an inner pocket and produced some keys. Elinor located the one that opened the study, then the top drawer of the desk, and finally the complete set of house keys.

She found the pine door two along from Hetta’s room and opened it quietly. It didn’t entirely surprise her to find that it was as plain as her own was ornate. The bed was narrow and looked hard. The furniture was neat and functional. Whatever Andrew had been like once, this was how he was now.

She remembered how he’d shrugged aside the child’s death, with a brusque remark about ‘going on’. He was right, but it had given her a chill to hear it put that way. Would he have taken Hetta’s death so coolly? It was hard to believe, when he was so easy and friendly with her, but what did she know of him?

By the time she’d finished he’d appeared in the doorway. ‘Thank you,’ he said briefly.

‘When do you want to be called?’

‘I normally set my alarm for six, but I guess I can allow myself a little longer tomorrow. I’m not operating.’

‘Goodnight, then.’

She finished clearing away downstairs and went up quietly. As always Hetta’s door stood open, and she looked in, listening to the soft, even breathing, before going to her own room.

She lay down but sleep wouldn’t come. Andrew’s words, ‘suddenly you wonder what it was all about,’ haunted her. In her mind she had invested their meeting with so much significance, and now he’d told her, very kindly, that it meant nothing to him. He’d said, too, that she’d done him a favour by deserting him, freeing him to fulfil himself.

But that’s not true, she thought, sitting up suddenly. He was the one who was desperate to get married. I didn’t look further than being in love. That’s why I hurt him so much.

‘I couldn’t help it,’ she whispered now into the darkness. ‘You wanted me too much. I couldn’t cope. Now you’re coping by changing the past so that it didn’t mean anything.’

She would try to believe that that was best for both of them, but the pain was still there. It was as though she’d possessed one glorious treasure in all her life. And he’d shown her that it was only made of lead.

It had been foolish of her to feel a brief stab of pleasure at the discovery that he was unmarried. What possible difference could that make to her?

But she couldn’t hide from her own heart. Since they’d met she’d seen the man nature had meant him to be, not only brilliant but generous in a way that had gone far beyond the call of duty.

He’d loved her and she’d thrown it away. She’d refused to face her regret but it had always been there, and now there was no hiding from it.

Suddenly she sat up, alerted by an unfamiliar sound, as though someone were crying out. In an instant she was out of bed, hurrying across the corridor to Hetta. But her daughter’s room was quiet, her sleep undisturbed. The