His Pretend Wife

‘She’s going to America to get married, and she’s not taking him.’

‘Put her on,’ he snapped.

Elinor returned to the kitchen. ‘Andrew wants to talk to you.’

‘Sorry, I’m too busy.’

‘You can’t be. It’s what you came here for.’

‘No way. I didn’t come here for a phone conversation with Andrew. I can do that anywhere. Where’s the raspberry sauce? You’ve moved it.’

‘Top shelf. Please come and talk to him.’

‘Nope. It was handier on the middle shelf.’

‘Not for me. Hetta doesn’t like it.’

‘Simon adores it with ice cream and milk shake. I’ll have some sent to you, but don’t let him make a pig of himself. Better get back to Andrew.’

Elinor gave up and returned to the hall. ‘She won’t come,’ she told Andrew.

She could hear him grinding his teeth. ‘Tell her-’

She returned to Myra and spoke in a carefully expressionless voice. ‘He says stop playing damn fool games and pick up the phone.’

Myra gave a rich crow of laughter. ‘Don’t worry, I won’t embarrass you by responding in kind.’

To Elinor’s relief Myra went out into the hall. But she merely hung up the phone and returned to the kitchen. ‘No point in arguing,’ she explained airily. ‘He just doesn’t listen.’

The telephone immediately rang and Elinor raced to snatch it up. ‘It’s not my fault,’ she said, harassed.

‘I know that. All right, please tell her I’ll be over this evening. Are you all right? Is she making herself unpleasant?’

‘No,’ Elinor said wryly. ‘I think she’s a little crazy, but not unpleasant.’

She found Myra in the garden with the children, who were playing with the puppy. She had a moment to watch them unobserved, and hear Hetta’s giggles of glee.

Then Myra hailed her. ‘You stay here while I finish doing the eats,’ she said. ‘I’ll yell when I’m ready.’ She headed back to the house.

‘Mummy, look at the puppy,’ Hetta called. ‘His name’s Fudge.’

‘That’s because he’s that pale brown colour,’ Simon put in.

Fudge promptly squatted on the ground and produced an enormous puddle.

‘He’s nervous at being in a new place,’ Simon hurried to say. ‘And he’s out in the garden. He is house-trained.’ Honesty made him add, ‘Well, sort of.’

She felt sad for the child, feeling the need to placate her. This was more his house than hers. What sort of a life had he had, between a distant father and the selfish, manipulative mother?

Hetta and Simon were already at ease with each other. He seemed to be a quiet, gentle child, and she couldn’t help realising that he would be the ideal playmate for Hetta. She, for her part, had already given him the ultimate token of friendship, hauling up her T-shirt and displaying her wound with enormous pride. Simon had been suitably impressed.

At last Myra called, ‘Come and get it!’ and they all trooped to the house where she’d laid the table out on the patio.

The meal was a roaring success. Myra was skilled and imaginative, and she knew how to appeal to children. It was hard to dislike her. She was a tough cookie, who seemed to have little in the way of finer feelings. But she was good-natured, and had an outgoing quality that made her company pleasant for a while. Elinor guessed she liked everyone around her to be happy, and would even put herself out to achieve it-as long as she was sure of getting her own way in the end.

She also had a gift for telling a funny story. Despite her unease about Andrew’s imminent arrival, Elinor found herself smiling at the tale of Fudge and a donkey. The children hooted with laughter.

They were like that when Andrew came in.

He’d meant to ring the front doorbell, but finding the side gate to the garden open he’d walked around the house until he’d heard laughing voices. Nobody heard him arrive, and he had a moment to stand, taking in the cheerful scene in which he had no part.

It was Elinor who saw him first, glancing up just before he controlled his expression. She rose and the movement alerted the attention of the others. Hetta beamed. Myra regarded him with a cynical smile. Simon looked pleased but uncertain what to expect. Andrew gave a brief nod in his direction, and an even briefer smile. Unease radiated from him.

‘Good evening, Myra,’ he said.

‘You’re just in time for some coffee, Andrew. Let’s go in, it’s getting a little chilly.’

When they had all moved into the living room Myra said, ‘Kids, why don’t you go and watch television upstairs?’

‘I’ll go too,’ Elinor said hastily.

‘Better if you stay,’ Myra observed. ‘Andrew and I can only take so much of each other’s company undiluted.’

Elinor looked at Andrew. ‘Please stay,’ he requested.

When the children had gone upstairs, clutching Fudge, the three of them surveyed each other uneasily. Elinor felt almost overwhelmed by the bittersweet shock of Andrew’s presence after she had accepted that she would never see him again. But she tried to keep a clear head, sensing she was going to need all her wits about her in the next few minutes.

‘Myra, if you’ve come to make trouble-’ Andrew began.

‘But I haven’t. When did I ever make trouble?’

‘I won’t answer that.’

‘When you two have finished quarrelling, it’s the kids’ bedtime, and I need to know where Simon’s sleeping,’ Elinor said firmly.

‘But here, of course,’ Myra said sweetly. ‘In his father’s house.’

‘With no warning?’ Andrew snapped. ‘You must be out of your mind.’

‘Well, it’s very simple. I’m off to Detroit to marry Cyrus, and really I can’t take a little boy on my honeymoon, even if he wanted to come, which he very sensibly doesn’t. He’s thrilled at the thought of staying with you. You’ve let him down so often, but not this time.’

‘Do you think I have time to care for a child?’

‘Not you. Your girlfriend.’

‘Ellie-Mrs Landers-is not my girlfriend, as you so vulgarly put it.’

‘Nothing vulgar in having a girlfriend. It’s about time you thought of something other than a scalpel.’

‘If anybody’s interested, I am leaving tomorrow morning,’ Elinor said desperately.

‘No, you’re not,’ Myra said airily. ‘We settled all that.’

‘Did we?’ Elinor asked blankly.

‘Be nice to her, Andrew. She’s going to get you out of a hole.’ She turned to Elinor. ‘You don’t mind getting him out of a hole, do you, Ellie? I can call you Ellie, can’t I?’

‘No,’ Andrew said harshly.

Myra became businesslike. ‘Look, it’s very simple. Simon is going to stay with you for a while. He’s here now, he’s got all his stuff, and he’s looking forward to it. But if you refuse, then I’ll take him away with me now, and he’ll come with me to Detroit, and he’ll stay there. For good. I swear you’ll never see him again.’

He stared at her in a fury. ‘You’re bluffing.’

‘I’m doing you a favour, forcing you to engage with your son before it’s too late. So what happens? Do I take him away from you for good?’

‘You know I won’t let you do that.’

‘Fine. He stays here.’

‘You’ve already heard Mrs Landers say that she’s leaving,’ Andrew said in a tight voice.

‘Then you’ll have to persuade her to stay, won’t you? I’m making some more coffee. Anybody want some?’ She floated into the kitchen, as much at ease as though this were a social occasion.

Andrew could hardly look at Elinor.