The Perfect Marriage

by Debbie Viggiano

  ‘That’s one long canoodle. You still have your party dress on – and yet I could have sworn it’s now Monday morning.’

  ‘Ah, rumbled by Detective Perfect. Okay, Guv, it’s a fair cop.’ Lucy roughly shoved her coat onto a hanger before selecting a severely tailored navy suit. ‘I shagged him. All weekend. And very nice it was too. Oh, don’t look at me like that, Rosie. Anyway you’re a fine one to judge.’

  Rosie turned pale. ‘Why?’

  Lucy extracted a no-nonsense white shirt from another rail. ‘What do you mean why? The last time I saw you, you were giving Gregory’s mate a tonsillectomy with your tongue.’

  ‘Yes, that’s the bit where a black gap kicked in.’

  ‘Hmm, convenient. When did the memory finally deem to return?’ Now it was Lucy’s turn to arch an eyebrow.

  ‘Um, early hours of Sunday morning.’

  Lucy peeled off her dress and walked over to the chest of drawers. She extracted clean underwear and a pair of tights. ‘And?’

  ‘Oh, God, Luce,’ Rosie plonked herself down on the freshly made bed. ‘Can you keep a secret?’

  ‘You bet, because you’re going to keep my secret, right?’

  Rosie nodded. ‘That goes without saying. Well, if you must know, I woke up in that guy’s bed.’

  Lucy let out a long low whistle. ‘Nice work. He was a right cracker. Was he good?’

  ‘What do you mean?’

  Lucy rolled her eyes as she stuck a foot through the leg hole of her knickers. ‘Was he good between the sheets?’ She pulled the briefs up and reached for her bra.

  ‘I don’t know.’

  ‘What do you mean you don’t know?’ Deftly hooking the bra’s clasps together, she began making a funnel for one leg with the tights.

  ‘I mean, I don’t remember. I don’t remember anything.’

  Lucy paused, tights at half-mast. ‘Nothing? Nada?’

  ‘Zilch. Zero.’

  ‘Geez,’ Lucy sucked on her teeth and pulled up the tights. ‘So you get picked up by a hot guy, taken back to his place for rumpy-pumpy, and can’t remember whether you played Fifty Shades of Grey or Scrabble.’ Lucy reached for her shirt and skirt. ‘It could only happen to you, Rosie.’

  Rosie eyed her friend miserably. ‘Well, there’s a part of me that’s glad I can’t remember. As far as I’m concerned, if I can’t remember then it didn’t happen.’

  ‘Does Dave know?’

  ‘Absolutely not!’

  ‘How did you manage to explain the small matter of your overnight absence? Did you tell him you stayed at Goldhill Grange after all?’

  ‘No. My neighbour – you remember Karen? – well she lied for me.’

  ‘I see. And are you meeting lover boy again?’

  ‘Most definitely not!’ Rosie watched Lucy shrug her way into the navy jacket. ‘You’re not seeing this Gregory chap again are you?’

  ‘It’s likely.’

  Rosie stared at her friend, aghast. ‘But you’re getting married in a month!’

  ‘It’s only a dalliance.’

  ‘But why? You risk jeopardising everything. Don’t you feel guilty?’

  ‘Not especially.’ Lucy returned to her dressing room. Reaching up to a shelf, she selected a black leather handbag. ‘You see the thing is,’ she emerged, and began filling the bag up with lipstick, tissues, her purse and a cheque book, ‘I’ve caught my darling fiancé out.’

  ‘Don’t be ridiculous!’ Rosie spluttered. ‘The man worships the ground you walk on.

  ‘You think, eh? Except, quite by chance, I happened to come across a string of text messages on his mobile. They were from another woman.’

  ‘You went through his phone?’ Rosie looked astonished.

  Lucy shrugged. ‘Don’t you go through your husband’s phone?’

  ‘He hasn’t got one. Not anymore. He says he lost it, and we can’t afford to replace it.’

  ‘Isn’t it about time you got shot of that loser?’

  Rosie sighed. ‘I made a big mistake marrying Dave.’

  ‘Thanks to your overbearing mother.’

  Rosie clicked her tongue. ‘Ultimately I can’t blame anybody apart from myself. Typical rebound. And anyway, I can’t leave Dave. I have nowhere to go.’

  ‘If things are that awful, can’t you go back to your mother? Surely Hester would love your company now that your pa is no longer of this world.’ Lucy raised her eyes heavenwards. ‘Bless him.’

  ‘I don’t know what would be worse – living with Dave or living with my mother. Anyway, I know in my heart of hearts Mum wouldn’t put a roof over my head. Not with Luke. She’d tell me to get in the queue for a Council flat.’

  ‘Well then why don’t you?’

  ‘I don’t want to bring my baby up in a tower block. At least Dave’s house has a little garden for Luke to play in when he’s older. Also I have Karen next door. She’s not just my neighbour; she’s a good friend too and very supportive.’

  ‘Well I’d say move in here if you’re really stuck, but obviously the place will be sold after I’m married.’

  ‘Still going through with the nuptials then, despite meeting this Gregory?’

  Lucy picked up her house keys and chucked them in her handbag. ‘Of course. I’m looking forward to my big day. I can’t wait to be Mrs Chandler.’

  ‘So what are you going to do about your fiancé’s ‘other woman’?’

  Lucy gave Rosie a determined look. ‘Hunt her down, and see her off.’

  Chapter Eleven

  Matt had spent virtually all day at Tibor’s Tasty Titbits. By four o’clock he was in the car and on his way to London to see another business contact. Matt had left Gregory with an implementation plan containing timeframes, milestones, policies and responsibilities. Matt knew that staff would understandably feel insecure when made aware of the forthcoming changes, especially when it eventually came down to staff placement in the new structure. It was always the incompetent individuals who were the most vocal because they now ran an increased risk of being exposed. Individuals like Rosie’s husband, Dave Perfect.

  Matt grimaced and touched his eye. It had been aching for the last half hour. He could do with some ibuprofen. As Matt drove along, he glanced from left to right looking for a pharmacy. As he threaded his way through North London, he realised he was only a few streets away from Rosie’s house. Matt dickered. He couldn’t deny that he’d like to see Rosie again – purely to see if she was okay and the front door had been fixed. He assured himself there was absolutely no ulterior motive. The woman was married after all. But perhaps he could ponce some painkillers? Decision made, he swung a left. Two minutes later his car was parked outside Rosie Perfect’s house. Matt glanced up at it. The front door hadn’t been fixed. Matt stared in disbelief. He hadn’t had Rosie down as the sort of girl who palmed two hundred quid.

  Matt opened the driver’s door. He felt stiff after hours of sitting at Gregory’s office, followed by being cooped up in a car. Straightening up, he felt his body unkink slightly. He hoped Rosie was in. Of course, there was only one way to find out. He walked up the cracked path, dodging the weeds, and was just about to ring the doorbell when he remembered it was broken. Knocking on the one remaining glass pane, Matt stood back and waited. He turned slightly to take in the ordinary looking London road. A boy on a bicycle pedalled past, saw Matt looking and gave him a middle finger. Matt shook his head. What was that all about? There was movement behind the front door. Moments later Rosie stood before him, framed in the doorway. Baby Luke was welded to one hip, like a permanent fixture.

  ‘Oh!’ Rosie exclaimed. ‘I, er, gosh, I wasn’t expecting to see you again.’

  Matt gave Rosie a curt nod. ‘Is that why you didn’t bother getting the door fixed?’

  Rosie felt colour flood her face. Oh Lord, the man thought she’d taken the money for herself. ‘Of course not,’ Rosie could feel her blush turning beetroot. She hoped Matt Palmer didn’t interpret her flushing as guilt. In fact she w
as red from embarrassment. ‘The glazier turned up, asked for payment before the job started, but unfortunately the money you gave me was nowhere to be found.’

  ‘Is that so?’

  ‘Yes,’ Rosie’s eyes flashed. ‘It was a humiliating experience.’ Rosie cringed at the memory of asking her mother for a loan in front of her old cronies – and her mother refusing.

  ‘Good heavens no, Rosie,’ Hester had shrieked. ‘I don’t carry that sort of money on my person, and nor will I write a cheque. This sort of thing is for the man of the house to sort out, and I most certainly wouldn’t want to tread on Dave’s toes.’

  Rosie had almost retorted that her mother could indeed tread on Dave’s toes and any other part of his anatomy if she so desired. Instead she’d bitten her tongue and returned to the glazier, who had overheard the conversation with her mother.

  ‘Tell you what, love, I’ll board it up for you,’ he’d said. ‘I can see you’re in a bit of a pickle. No charge.’

  ‘So where did the money go?’ asked Matt.

  Rosie looked down and studied the floor for a moment. ‘I don’t know,’ she mumbled. ‘However, I suspect my husband might have an inkling.’ When she looked up again, her eyes were very bright.

  ‘And where is Rambo today?’

  ‘I have absolutely no idea. He’s supposedly looking for work. Um, look, excuse me, but you haven’t said why you’re here?’

  Matt raked a hand through his hair. ‘Sorry. I didn’t mean to knock on your door and have a pop at you. I was in the area, and happen to have a belting headache. Is there any chance I could pinch some painkillers from your medicine cupboard?’

  Rosie momentarily looked nonplussed. ‘Of course. Would you like to come in? You’re welcome to have a cup of tea.’

  ‘That would be very kind,’ Matt followed Rosie down the hallway and into the kitchen, ‘and in return I insist you let me sort out the glazier for you.’

  Rosie swung around. ‘Absolutely not. It’s bad enough that you’re out of pocket once on my behalf, never mind twice.’

  ‘Don’t be silly. You can pay me back if it bothers you so much.’

  Rosie popped Luke into a playpen in the corner of the kitchen. Straightening up, she turned to Matt. ‘Look, I’ll be absolutely honest with you, Mr Palmer–’

  ‘I told you before. It’s Matt.’

  ‘Matt,’ Rosie reached for the kettle and blasted some water into it, ‘I can’t begin to pay back an amount like–’

  ‘Ten pence a week. Take as long as you like.’ Matt reached into his pocket for his iPhone and began looking up local glaziers. Seconds later he’d tapped in a number and was barking out instructions.

  Rosie placed a cup of tea in front of him and set the sugar bowl down on the table. ‘Thank you,’ she mumbled. ‘And ten pence a week will be most agreeable.’

  ‘Good. Now while we’re waiting for the glazier, can I trouble you for those painkillers?’

  ‘Of course, give me two seconds.’

  As Matt listened to Rosie hastening up the staircase, Luke hauled himself upright in his playpen. Clinging to the wooden bars, he stared at Matt.

  ‘Hello again, little fella,’ Matt smiled.

  Luke let out a chuckle. It was the most delicious noise Matt had ever heard. Matt put his hands up to his ears and wiggled them about. Luke let out another gurgle of laughter. Matt laughed too and stood up. The little boy was irresistible. He simply had to have a cuddle.

  Upstairs in the bathroom, Rosie rootled through a cabinet of toiletries and tampons looking for the tablets. She was uncomfortably aware of her heart banging away under her ribcage. She suspected it was nothing to do with the exertion of climbing the stairs and everything to do with the effect Matt Palmer’s presence was having on her. In the last ten minutes Rosie’s memory had, like knicker elastic, pinged back repeatedly to waking up in this man’s bed…seeing his naked body…running her fingertips over his skin…touching his...

  The front door banged. Rosie jumped as Dave’s voice floated up the stairs.

  ‘Hello again, matey. I take it you’ve come back to have the other eye blacked?’

  Chapter Twelve

  Dave swayed down the hallway towards the kitchen. His face was screwed up in an expression of belligerence.

  ‘What are you doing here?’ he demanded of Matt.

  Up in the bathroom, Rosie grabbed the painkillers before rushing back down the stairs. ‘Dave?’

  ‘Ah,’ Dave turned to acknowledge his wife, ‘yet again I come home after a busy day out looking for work, and what do I find? The missus cosying up with this traitor! What the bloody hell is going on here, eh?’ Dave belched softly. The kitchen was instantly filled with the aroma of bad digestion and whisky fumes.

  ‘Nothing’s going on,’ Rosie cried. ‘Matt just happened to be–’

  ‘Rosie, I think I can speak for myself.’ Matt put Luke back into his playpen and turned to face Dave. ‘You said you were looking for work.’

  ‘What’s it to you?’ Dave’s lip curled as he stared at Matt.

  ‘I happen to know where there’s a job going, and very well paid it is too.’

  Rosie’s jaw dropped. What was Matt talking about?

  ‘And why would you be interested in getting me a job? I had a job until you came along and got me fired.’

  Matt shrugged. ‘Well maybe my conscience has been pricking.’

  ‘That would figure, coming from a prick like you.’

  Rosie gasped. ‘For God’s sake, Dave. Matt’s trying to help.’

  Dave pulled out a kitchen chair and sat down heavily. ‘Go on then. Tell me all about it because I’m fresh out of dough. This morning I had two hundred pounds–’

  ‘You stole money from me?’ Rosie interrupted.

  ‘Borrowed, love, borrowed. And by this afternoon I had two thousand.’

  Rosie’s hand fluttered to her mouth. ‘You’ve been gambling?’

  ‘You’ve been gambling?’ Dave mimicked in a falsetto voice. ‘For God’s sake, Rosie, grow up and join the real world. There hasn’t been any other way to get hold of big wads of cash has there?’

  ‘Congratulations on your win,’ said Matt.

  ‘Only trouble is,’ Dave hiccupped, ‘I now only have two pence.’

  ‘You lost all that money?’ Rosie had to lean against the worktop for support.

  Dave laughed mirthlessly. ‘Yeah. Ruddy life. Shits all over you. But, hey! Thanks to Wonder Boy here, I’m going to re-join the great and the good – the army of employed people.’

  ‘Well you’ll have to have an interview and go through a proper procedure,’ Matt said, ‘but I happen to know for a fact there aren’t any other candidates.’

  Dave squinted at Matt. ‘Oh yeah? Don’t tell me. It’s cleaning public toilets.’

  ‘Er, no. It’s testing dog food – as in tasting it.’

  ‘You’re having a laugh, aren’t you!’

  ‘No. Straight up. The job is kosher. There’s a salary of twenty-eight grand a year.’

  ‘Dog food taster?’ Dave stared at Matt incredulously. ‘What the hell do you take me for, you–’

  ‘I’ll do it,’ Rosie piped up. There was a stunned silence as both men regarded her. ‘Please get me an interview.’

  ‘You’re round the bend,’ Dave stared at his wife, ‘barking mad.’ Suddenly his face creased up and his shoulders began to shake. ‘Barking mad, ah ha ha ha. Dog food, get it? Woof woof!’

  Rosie ignored Dave. ‘I mean it,’ she looked at Matt. There was no hiding the desperation on her face. ‘If my husband isn’t interested, then I most definitely am.’ All Rosie could think about was that she might be able to rent a tiny place of her own with Luke, and make a break for freedom.’

  ‘Well, if you’re sure, Rosie. I’ll speak to Gregory and set up an interview straight away.’

  ‘Gregory?’

  ‘Yes. Gregory Tibor. He’s the owner of Tibor’s Tasty Titbits. He’s the guy I was with the night–’r />
  ‘Yes,’ Rosie cut Matt off mid-sentence. ‘I’ve heard of him.’ She flushed at the memory of Lucy telling her all about Gregory. And if Rosie was successful in securing an interview with this man, she would have to hope he didn’t recognise her, or remember her outrageous behaviour at The Cavendish Club.

  ‘Good,’ said Dave as he hauled himself to his feet. ‘I’m glad that’s sorted and Rosie will finally be able to properly contribute to household expenses.’ At that moment there was a loud rapping on the door. ‘What a busy house I have today. Will this be another superhero standing on my doorstep?’

  Rosie gritted her teeth. ‘It will be the glazier.’

  ‘Don’t look to me to pay him,’ said Dave, ‘after all, you’re going to be the breadwinner from now on.’

  ‘I haven’t been offered the job yet,’ Rosie muttered as she pushed past her husband.

  ‘Wear a short skirt,’ Dave called after her, ‘that should do the trick. So,’ he turned to face Matt, ‘now that one member of this household is about to be employed thanks to you, I shall retire to the bathroom with yesterday’s newspaper that I fished out of somebody’s dustbin. And when I come back down again, I expect you to have slung your hook.’

  ‘Don’t worry,’ Matt smiled pleasantly, ‘I’m going.’

  Dave staggered out of the kitchen leaving Matt staring after him. What a ghastly man. Not just a pisshead but a gambler too. From his playpen, Luke caught Matt’s eye and grinned. Matt smiled wanly back. Standing up, he palmed the ibuprofen Rosie had left on the table and swallowed them down with the cooling tea.

  ‘Look after your Mummy,’ Matt said softly to Luke. He had a sudden overwhelming desire to rescue Rosie and her baby from this life of poverty, broken doors and potential dog food tasting.

  Out in the hallway, Rosie was speaking to the glazier. Matt pulled out his wallet and counted out ten twenty pound notes. He always carried that amount of cash on him for business purposes. Rosie stood there looking awkward. ‘When will I hear about the interview?’ she asked.