An Ideal Wife (24 page)

I looked at him for a moment. In my mind’s eye I could already see us all as one big happy family; I could move back in with them and we could go to Disney World together and sit around playing board games and I could forget all about work, Max, and everything else.

“You’re really my father?” I asked.

“I really am.”

“Wow,” I said. “It’s a lot to take in.”

“So you take it in. I’m going upstairs to make a call. You drink tea, talk with your friends, with your mother, and then we’ll regroup. Huh? How does that sound?”

“Sounds good,” I said weakly, as he got up and left the kitchen. Giles patted my shoulder in a concerned but ineffective way, and I rounded on my mother as soon as Lawrence was out of earshot.

“My father?” I asked incredulously. “He’s my father? When were you planning to tell me that?”

“I was planning to tell you as soon as he got here,” Mum said crossly. “Every time I tried, you said you were too busy to talk.”

“But … but …” I sputtered, “I would have made time if you’d told me who he was.”

Mum sighed heavily. “What am I going to do?”

“What do you mean?” I asked. “Looks like you’ve got it all sorted.”

“But he thinks we’re getting back together,” Mum said worriedly. “He won’t listen. I keep telling him that Chester’s coming back.”

“You mean you don’t want to get back together with him?” I asked uncertainly.

“Of course not!” Mum said. “He turned up out of the blue, and I couldn’t send him away. I’d given him my address only so he could send me some photographs. And when he turned up, I was flattered, of course. I was still cross with Chester, so I thought frankly it would serve him right. But now Lawrence won’t leave. He keeps talking about being a happy family.”

I frowned. “You don’t want that?” I asked.

Mum shook her head, exasperated. “I hardly know the man, darling. I haven’t seen him for a very long time. And we went out for only about a year. Long enough for me to get pregnant, have you, and realize that he wasn’t the right man for either of us.”

“But I saw you kissing him.”

“Kissing him? Darling, I haven’t kissed him. Not at all. He’s tried to kiss me, believe me, but I’m getting married to Chester soon. At least, I would be if I had a bit of time to plan the wedding. Having a houseguest is very time-consuming. Particularly one who thinks he isn’t going anywhere.”

“So what are you going to do?” I asked.

“I hoped you might tell him to go home,” she said.

“Me?” I looked at her in horror. “I can’t do that!”

“Oh, but you can. You’re so much better at that sort of thing than I am,” Mum implored me.

I looked at her levelly. “I’m not telling anyone anything,” I said. “This is your problem and you need to deal with it. I, on the other hand, have problems of my own.”

“You do?” Mum sounded unconvinced. “Really?”

“Really,” I confirmed. “I’ve got a trunk in the car and I need to hide it here.”

“Hide it?” Mum frowned. “Hide it from whom?”

“From the Russian Mafia,” Helen said.

“The Russian Mafia? You’re joking, of course,” Mum said, her eyes widening.

“Not really.” I shrugged. “They’re definitely Russian; we’re not sure about the Mafia connection as of yet. But we need to put the trunk in the cellar just in case.”

“Oh, for goodness sake,” Mum grumbled. “Very well. You can put it in the cellar, but only if you promise to talk to your father afterward.”

“It’s my cellar!” I protested.

“But I’m living here,” Mum pointed out.

“Oh, fine,” I sighed. “I’ll talk to him.”

“Good!” Mum smiled. “Now, where is this trunk? In the car?” I nodded and walked to the front door; as I opened it, the doorbell rang. And then my mouth fell open.

“Chester,” I gasped. “What the hell are you doing here?”

CHESTER LOOKED AT ME UNCERTAINLY. “Not much of a welcome. Are you going to let me in? Is Esther at home?”

“I …” I stared at him, at a loss for words. “I thought you were in the States.”

“I was.” He shrugged. “Decided to come back early. Figured loose ends could stay loose for a bit longer. Esther was right—I didn’t need to stay away that long. So, is she home?”

I gulped. “You should have called.”

“I did.” Chester frowned. “Your mother didn’t pick up. Oh, but I got your message when I touched down at Heathrow. Something about the ethical audit not going so well?”

“Oh yes,” I said, stepping out onto the doorstep with Chester. “Yes, I need to talk to you about the audit. Maybe we could go for a walk?”

“Or maybe I could come in and see your mother,” Chester said firmly, pushing the door open. Mum appeared behind it.

“Chester! Darling!” she said, throwing herself at him and wrapping her arms around his neck. “Oh, it’s so lovely to see you.”

Chester grinned. “Likewise. Now, this is more like the reception I was hoping for! Instead, I get Jess wanting to talk to me about the audit.” He rolled his eyes, and I shot a meaningful look at Mum.

“Ah, the audit,” she said immediately. “Well, you must talk about it. You must.”

“No, we mustn’t.” Chester wrinkled his brow. “You always say I talk about work too much, and you’re right. It hit me in New York. I was in this meeting—this really boring meeting—and I suddenly realized that I was never going to get that time back again. You can’t replace it. Once it’s gone … well, it’s gone. And, frankly, I don’t want any more of it wasted on business meetings. I’m going to get a new personal assistant, like you suggested. I’m going to get one who knows how to say no.”

Mum glowed with pleasure. “Oh, darling, I’m so pleased. And you’re so right.” There was a noise upstairs—footsteps. Lawrence’s footsteps. Mum heard them, too—her face whitened visibly. “But,” she said quickly, “I still think you should talk to Jess. She’s very worried. And she’s my daughter.”

“So? I’m tired. I’ve just spent two hours in traffic after a long plane ride. What I want is to sit down and get a foot rub. With a glass of whiskey in my hand.”

“Or,” Mum said, urging him out of the house, “a walk. With Jess.”

“With Helen,” I said quickly, mouthing “trunk” to Mum, who nodded.

“With Helen,” she corrected herself. “Fresh air—it’ll do you a world of good, Chester.”

“Who the hell’s Helen?” Chester asked, confused, as she appeared in the hall at the sound of her name. “And I don’t need fresh air.”

“After being on a plane? Of course you do,” Mum said firmly, manhandling Helen out onto the doorstep with Chester and me. “They starve you of oxygen. All sorts of bugs circulating. And think of your heart. Sitting down all that time—you could have thrombosis. A clot could be wending its way around your body as we speak. No, Chester, it is of paramount importance that you go
for a walk now. With Helen. Jessica’s best friend. Her bridesmaid, if you remember? You need to learn to notice things, Chester. If you’re going to be a good stepfather, you need to bond with Jessica’s friends, so off you go. Out of the house. Away from here. For an hour or so. If you don’t, I shall be very cross.”

Helen forced a smile. “Hi, Chester. I’m Helen. And I’d really love to go for a walk.”

Chester looked at her vaguely, then turned back to Mum. “You’ll be very cross?” he asked disbelievingly. “I come back early from the States and you’ll be very cross if I don’t go out right away?”

“Extremely.” Mum nodded. “I’ll see you later. Good-bye, darling.”

“I’ll … see you inside in a second, Mum,” I said, pulling the door shut. “So, you guys, the village is that way, if you fancy that, or if you go the other way you’ll come to the river, which is really pretty.”

“The river or the village,” Chester muttered darkly. “Either your mother’s going mad or I am. Or both of us are. Or maybe it’s you?” He peered at me, and I shrank back.

“No one’s mad,” I said hesitantly. “Mum’s right—a walk will do you good. Clear the cobwebs away. And Helen’s really nice. She works in television.”

“She works in television,” Chester repeated. “Well, that makes sense. I feel as if I’ve arrived on the set of
The Twilight Zone.”

“Then you’ll have lots to talk about,” I said weakly. “See you later!”

I watched as they disappeared down the drive, Chester shaking his head in disbelief and Helen chattering away about … well, I didn’t know what. Didn’t care. The important thing was that they were gone.

I pushed the door open to find Mum and Giles waiting expectantly for me.

“Okay,” I said. “We need to get rid of Lawrence. And we need to do something with the trunk.”

“That blasted trunk,” Mum sighed impatiently. “You do complicate matters, darling. You really shouldn’t have brought it down here.”

I raised an eyebrow. “I complicate matters? You’re the one with the little love triangle going on, remember?”

“It is not a love triangle,” Mum said stiffly. “He just turned up—”

“What’s that about a love triangle?” Lawrence said, coming down the stairs. “It’s lies, all of it.” He winked at me. “So, Jess, have you had some time to think? Are you ready to get to know your old man?”

“I …” I looked at him uncertainly. “I am,” I said. “But I just have to … talk to my friend first.”

I grabbed Giles, who looked poised to go somewhere but with no idea where. “Get the trunk out of the car and into the house,” I whispered. “Put it in the cellar—Mum will show you where that is.”

“Where are you going?” Giles asked, a look of alarm on his face.

“I’m going to take Dad out of the house,” I said, then realized I wasn’t ready to use that word yet. “Lawrence, I mean.” I turned back to Lawrence and smiled. “You know, maybe you and I should take a walk. Get to know each other.”

“What a wonderful idea,” Mum said immediately, clapping her hands together. “Yes, you go now.”

“Right now?” Lawrence asked uncertainly. “It looks like it’s going to rain.”

We all looked out the hallway window; sure enough, ominous dark-gray clouds were gathering overhead.

“No, it’s not,” I said briskly. “The clouds are always like that round here. Then they clear up again. It’s nothing to worry about.”

“You’re sure of that?” Lawrence asked, unconvinced.

“Absolutely,” I lied. “Shall we?”

“Okay, then,” Lawrence said, grabbing a coat. I turned back to Mum and pulled her out of earshot.

“You pack up his stuff,” I told her. “Erase all traces of him. Put his bag in my car—I’ll drop him at the airport on my way back to London.”

“Oh, darling, thank you. Chester wouldn’t understand, you see.”

“No, he wouldn’t,” I agreed tersely. “And show Giles where the cellar is—he’s going to get the trunk out of the car.”

“Are we going, Jess?” my father called from the front door.

“Coming,” I said brightly, rushing over to him. “Right,” I said, taking his arm and doing a quick mental calculation. Chester and Helen would almost certainly have headed toward the village, I decided; neither particularly liked the countryside, so a river was unlikely to hold much appeal. The village, on the other hand, had shops Helen loved and pubs that might entice Chester with the promise of whiskey. “Let’s head toward the river,” I said firmly. “It’s this way.”

“So,” I said, a few minutes later. We were walking down a country lane. On either side of us were perfect little cottages with lovely thatched roofs and people outside who wouldn’t have looked at all out of place in an episode of
Marple
.

“So,” Lawrence parroted, looking around. “It’s nice here, huh? Nice little arrangement you’ve got.”

“Arrangement?” I frowned.

“House. Area. You know,” he said.

“Oh, I see. Well, yes,” I said, “although I’m not sure I’m using it as Grace intended.”

“Grace?” he asked.

“A friend of mine. The one who left me the house.”

“Ah. Her.” Lawrence nodded. “Why? What did she want you to do with it?”

“Live in it,” I said with a half smile.

“And you don’t because …?”

I hesitated for a moment. “Because of work,” I said. “It’s too far a commute into London.”

“It’s not such a long way,” Lawrence said. “What, an hour by car?”

“In good traffic.”

“So leave early.”

“It’s not that easy,” I sighed.

There was a bench by the side of the road, and Lawrence walked toward it. “You mind sitting?” he asked. “Not that I don’t love walking, but it’s quite a view here, don’t you think?”

I looked around—he was right. The bench was on a rise, and the road led downhill from there. In the distance was the river, which met the thunderous clouds seamlessly—it looked like a Turner painting. “Sure,” I said, sitting down next to him.

“Why isn’t it that easy?” he asked. “Why on earth would you choose to live in London when you can live here?”

“Oh, lots of reasons,” I answered quickly. “I mean, it’s too big for only Max and me. And the commute, like I said. And …” I frowned. There were other reasons; I just couldn’t remember them. I tried to hear Max’s voice, remember what he always said. “Being in London is important if you’re in advertising. And Max works long hours, so …”

“So he doesn’t want to move?” Lawrence asked gently.