The Token Wife

by Sara Craven

  ‘I think,’ Alex Fabian said quietly, ‘that’s something that could be open to discussion. But possibly not at this moment.’

  ‘Not ever,’ Lou said fiercely. ‘So—please go.’

  She turned away, and began to run hot water into the basin, and when she glanced around again she was alone. Which was something she would have to get accustomed to, she realised, wretchedness stabbing her as she washed her face.

  With the worst ravages removed, she went back to her room and threw herself across the bed, digging clenched fists into the coverlet.

  Love must indeed be blind, she thought, because she’d never had the slightest idea that David might be looking elsewhere. She’d always felt so happy and comfortable with him, and on the surface everything had seemed just the same.

  Yet, she supposed, there had been clues for anyone with a suspicious mind. The fact that David no longer talked about the wedding had been one. And he’d been more preoccupied than usual lately, although he’d blamed problems at work for that.

  And Ellie hadn’t been the same either, dating Alex Fabian with such feverish, determined enjoyment. As if trying to convince herself that they could have a life together.

  You fool, she told herself. You complacent, trusting idiot.

  She could sense the tears gathering inside her, threatening to fill the ache of emptiness. And pain was prowling, too, waiting to sink its claws into her heart and mind.

  The tap at her door sent her bolt upright, looking apprehensively over her shoulder. But it was only Mrs Gladwin bringing the threatened tea. Her face was solemn, but her eyes, understandably, were sparking with curiosity.

  ‘No one wanted any breakfast,’ she said. ‘So I’ve had to throw all that lovely food away. It seems a wicked waste.’ She paused. ‘I’ve cleared up the kitchen, so if I’m not wanted for anything else…?’

  Lou realised wearily that she was asking to be paid. She forced a smile. ‘That’s fine, Mrs Gladwin, and thank you.’ She found her bag, and handed over the cash.

  Mrs Gladwin lingered. ‘Next weekend, Miss Louise? Will the family be down?’

  Lou looked at her blankly. ‘I—I really don’t know.’ Nor did she care, she thought. And how absurd to think that life could just—go on. For anyone to assume that she would go on living in this house—in this village—with all the dead hopes, dead memories. When everyone must know that was quite impossible.

  When she knew, beyond all doubt, that she had to get away—and fast. Leave it all behind her, and escape.

  She said quietly, ‘I’m sure my stepmother will be in touch over the arrangements. Thank you for the tea.’

  ‘The cup that cheers,’ said Mrs Gladwin, nodding portentously, and departed.

  Louise looked at the tray, with its snowy lace cloth and the pretty flowered crockery. Another act of kindness, she thought, amid the personal desolation that was beginning to tear at her. But, again, from the wrong person. She did not want Alex Fabian’s kindness. She could not bear the thought of it.

  She went on staring until the outlines of cup, saucer, jug and teapot lost their separate shapes, and became oddly blurred. Until the first scalding, agonised tears began to sear their way down her face, falling faster and faster.

  She began to sob, making small, desperate, uncontrollable noises, pressing her hands over her eyes so that the salty drops squeezed through her fingers. She could feel grief burn in her throat, and taste it on her icy lips.

  At some moment, still weeping, she stripped off the skirt and top and threw them across the room, shuddering as if they were rank—rancid. Knowing she never wanted to see them again as long as she lived.

  She went to the wardrobe, dragged out a pair of black jeans and a round-necked sweater in fine grey wool, and pulled them onto her body.

  She found her soft leather travel bag, and began hurriedly to fill it with underwear, more trousers and casual tops, flat shoes.

  Escape, she thought, the word echoing like a mantra in her brain. Escape…

  But where could she go?

  There was Somerset, she thought. She could stay with her aunt and uncle, and find kindness with them. Use their farm as a sanctuary while she tried to decide what she could do with the rest of her life.

  On her way downstairs, she paused outside the main bedroom and tapped on the door.

  Her father opened it. ‘What is it?’ He looked at her bag. ‘Is it Ellie? Has she come back?’

  ‘No,’ she said, wincing. ‘That’s—not going to happen, Dad. But I’m going away for a while.’

  ‘But she must come back,’ he said. He looked past her. ‘You don’t realise how serious all this is. It was part of the deal with Fabian, and he’s walked out on us. We need that injection of capital, or the business could go under. We could lose everything.’

  Lou stared at the man in front of her, and wondered when he had first become a stranger.

  She said, ‘I think you already have lost everything. At least everything that matters.’ She paused. ‘I’ll be in touch—some time.’

  She went out of the cottage the back way, feeling fresh tears springing up as she realised how much of her life she was leaving behind. Yet knowing at the same time that she had no other choice.

  She’d expected—hoped—maybe even prayed that Alex Fabian would be long gone. But there was to be no respite for her on this merciless day.

  Because, as she came out into the yard, he was there, loading his own bag into the boot of his car.

  She checked instantly, wondering if she could duck back into the house before he saw her. But it was too late.

  He was already straightening, turning to look at her, the green eyes curiously intent.

  ‘So there you are,’ he said softly. ‘I’ve been waiting for you.’

  CHAPTER THREE

  SHE knew, of course, what he was seeing. The drenched eyes, the trembling mouth, and the pale face smudged with tears. She couldn’t even hide behind her hair, because her final act before leaving her room had been to drag it back and confine it at the nape of her neck with an elastic band.

  Oh, God, she thought desperately. Why did this man of all men have to be around when she was at her most vulnerable?

  She lifted her chin. Kept the betraying quiver from her voice. ‘I’m sorry if I’ve detained you, Mr Fabian, although I can’t imagine why that should be. We’ve said everything that needs to be said, and now we can go our separate ways.’

  ‘Not quite,’ he said. ‘Where are you going?’

  ‘None of your damned business.’ She reached into her shoulder bag, found her sunglasses and jammed them on her nose. One small barrier to shelter behind, she thought, searching for her car keys. ‘Will you please leave me alone?’

  ‘No,’ he said. He walked across, picked up her travel bag and slung it into the boot of his car next to his own case.

  ‘How dare you?’ Lou’s voice cracked with outrage. ‘What the hell do you think you’re doing?’

  ‘Taking over,’ he returned tersely. ‘Someone needs to. Most families are hell at times, but you seem particularly unlucky in yours. Your sister runs off with your man, and your father and his wife are too caught up in the financial ramifications of it all to notice that you’re falling apart.’

  ‘Thank you.’ She was shaking again, but this time it was with temper. ‘But I can manage on my own.’

  The green eyes swept her dismissively. ‘Well, you certainly can’t drive in that state,’ he said. ‘You’d kill yourself within a mile.’

  She glared at him. ‘Do you think I’d care?’

  ‘Suicide may have its attractions,’ he said, meditatively. ‘And the news might well put a temporary blight on married bliss for the happy couple, although I wouldn’t count on it. But it also tends to drastically reduce all future options. So I think you should consider living. And living well. That’s a far better revenge on your ex-fiancé.’

  ‘Do you think that’s what I want—revenge?’ Lou was gasping.

/>   ‘Well, I hope you don’t want him back,’ he said. ‘I should be very disappointed in you, if so.’

  ‘And we couldn’t possibly have that, could we?’ Her voice dripped scorn. ‘Why can’t you just get out of my life, Mr Fabian?’

  ‘Because fate seems to have thrown us together, Miss Trentham.’ He closed the boot, and walked round to open the passenger door. ‘Are you going to tell me where you’d like me to take you, or shall I make it up as I go along?’

  ‘Anywhere—as long as it’s away from here.’ Lou stayed where she was. ‘And away from you,’ she added stormily. ‘Can’t you see that you’re the last person I want to have around?’

  ‘That’s unfortunate,’ Alex drawled. ‘Because I really seem to be all you’ve got. And you must have some destination in mind. You can’t have been planning to simply drive until you ran out of petrol.’

  ‘No.’ She bit her lip. ‘I’m going to Somerset—to stay with my aunt and uncle,’ she offered unwillingly.

  ‘Well, that’s a first step,’ he said. ‘And afterwards?’

  ‘I don’t know,’ she admitted. ‘I—I can’t seem to think that far ahead. But I can’t ever come back here. Everyone in the village knew I was going to marry David. Half of them would have been coming to the wedding. I—I just can’t face them all.’

  ‘Don’t be a fool,’ he said. ‘Do you seriously imagine anyone would blame you for what’s happened?’

  ‘No.’ Her voice broke. ‘But they’d feel sorry for me. And that would be the worst—the unbearable thing. To be pitied…’

  ‘I agree,’ Alex said briskly. ‘Which brings us back to my original suggestion that you should take life by the throat and use it to your own best advantage.’

  She gave him a mutinous look, swallowing back the tears which threatened again. ‘And you, of course, are full of bright ideas about how I can do that.’

  ‘Perhaps,’ he said. ‘When you’re prepared to listen. In the meantime, get in the car, and I’ll take you to Somerset.’

  She was suddenly too weary to argue any more. Besides, her bag was shut in his boot, and she suspected it might take an undignified scuffle to retrieve it.

  She moved reluctantly towards his car, then halted. ‘But you were going back to London,’ she objected. ‘Won’t people wonder where you are?’

  ‘You forget,’ Alex said sardonically. ‘I’m away for the weekend getting engaged. No one’s expecting me back until Monday.’ He saw her into the passenger seat, then moved round to the driver’s side. ‘And a little sympathy for me wouldn’t go amiss,’ he added. ‘I’m also an injured party in this, if you remember.’

  ‘Yes,’ Lou said. ‘I can see you’re totally devastated.’

  ‘I’m actually bloody angry,’ he said. ‘I just hide it well. Fasten your seat belt.’

  ‘Why—is it going to be a bumpy ride?’ Lou’s voice held an edge as she complied.

  His mouth slanted in a faint smile. ‘I’d say that was entirely up to you,’ he said softly, and started the engine.

  There was a produce market in the village each Saturday morning, so their progress was slowed to a snail’s pace.

  Lou had expected Alex Fabian to become swiftly impatient at the delay. A powerful man in a powerful car could be an explosive combination, but he seemed cool and relaxed, lost in his own thoughts.

  A powerful man, she thought, prepared to play a waiting game, and bit her lip, realising that she found the idea disturbing.

  By now, she knew, she was bound to have been noticed. At any moment, someone might tap on the window and ask where David was—and, by implication, why she was driving through the village with a complete stranger.

  A question that she would find it quite impossible to answer. Because she still couldn’t believe that she was actually doing this. That she was meekly allowing Alex Fabian to take her all the way to Somerset, with the awful prospect of being cooped up in this car with him for at least two hours.

  And he’d made it seem as if it was her only choice, she thought, savaging her lip again.

  She sat staring rigidly ahead of her, her nails cutting into the palms of her clenched hands, as they edged along. She didn’t want to see familiar faces—familiar landmarks. She was being torn up by her roots, and it was hurting badly. Her future had seemed settled—secure—yet now it was in chaos, and she would have to go to some strange place, and begin all over again. But how could she? she asked herself in agony. Where could she go, and what could she do?

  By the time they’d finally won free of the village, and were heading through the lanes towards the motorway, Lou’s throat muscles were aching with misery, but she wouldn’t allow herself to cry any more. Not yet. And certainly not in front of Alex Fabian.

  As if he could read her thoughts, he said quietly, ‘Things will get better. You are going to come through this.’

  ‘I don’t want to,’ she said fiercely. ‘I want my old life back.’

  ‘Really?’ His tone was caustic. ‘You like skivvying for your family, do you? You enjoy being betrayed by people who are supposed to love you?’

  ‘No,’ she said. ‘And stop making me sound like some kind of pathetic victim. After all,’ she added, darting a burning glance in his direction, ‘I’m not the only one who’s been made a fool of.’

  He sighed over-heavily. ‘Sad, but true.’

  Lou’s lips tightened. ‘I’m glad you can treat it all so lightly. To you, it’s just a minor glitch on the surface of your untroubled life.’

  ‘It’s rather more than that,’ he said. ‘In fact, it’s a major inconvenience, but I’ll recover.’

  ‘I’m sure you will,’ she said with intense bitterness.

  He sent her a faint smile. ‘And, believe it or not, so will you—given time.’ He paused. ‘What are you going to do about your job? I presume you’ll have to give notice.’

  ‘It’s normally a month,’ she said tightly. ‘But I have some holiday owing.’ Holiday that she’d hoped and planned to use for her honeymoon. ‘I—I’ll write to the partners, and explain. I’m sure they’ll understand—the circumstances…’

  Her face worked suddenly, and all the tears she’d tried to dam back came welling inexorably to the surface again.

  She said chokingly, ‘Oh, no,’ and pressed clenched fists to her streaming eyes.

  Alex pulled the car into a convenient lay-by and stopped. Lou sat beside him, head bent, her shoulders shaking with the sobs she was trying hard to suppress. Even through the misery that overwhelmed her, she was aware of anger and shame at betraying herself like this in front of him.

  She could only be grateful in a confused way that he did not look at her, or speak. Or touch her. That, she thought, most of all.

  As she began to regain her self-control, however, she found herself being handed an immaculate white linen handkerchief.

  ‘Thank you,’ she mumbled. Then, stiffly, ‘I’m sorry.’

  ‘You don’t have to apologise,’ he said. ‘Or explain.’

  Lou mopped her face, and blew her nose. Still snuffling a little, she said, ‘I’ll have it laundered and returned to you.’

  ‘Don’t worry about it. I have plenty of others.’ He closed the book of maps he’d been studying, and tossed it onto the rear seat. ‘Shall we go on, or do you want to change your plans?’

  The truth was she had no other plans, but she didn’t want to admit that. She said, ‘I’d just like to get to the farm, please. I’ve already taken up too much of your time,’ she added stiltedly.

  ‘I can take the tears,’ Alex said as he started the car. ‘But not the humility. It’s not your thing, darling. Just keep reminding yourself that I’m the heartless swine who’s caused all your problems, and you’ll be fighting fit in no time.’

  She sent him one brief, fulminating glance, then transferred her attention ostentatiously to the passing hedgerow. Which was fine until they reached the motorway some fifteen minutes later, and all she had to stare at was other traffic.r />
  ‘Why did you want to marry Ellie?’ She’d meant to sit beside him in stony and unbroken silence for the duration, but curiosity eventually got the better of her.

  ‘I didn’t,’ he said. ‘I had no intention of getting married at all, but suddenly I needed a token wife, and Ellie seemed a likely candidate. That’s all.’

  ‘All?’ Lou echoed, wonderingly. ‘All? How did Ellie feel about that?’

  ‘Oh, she didn’t want me either,’ he said blandly. ‘I—er—tested the waters quite early on to make sure.’

  ‘Really.’ She sent him an inimical glance. ‘That must have hit you right in the ego.’

  ‘On the contrary,’ he returned, unmoved by her hostility. ‘It convinced me that she was ideal for the part. After all, the last thing I wanted was someone who might fall in love with me.’

  ‘Is this some weird, sophisticated game?’ she asked coldly. ‘Marrying people you don’t give a damn about?’

  ‘No, of course not,’ he said. ‘And I did give a damn about Ellie. While we were married I’d have made sure she got everything she could ever want in the way of comfort, plus a quick, no-fault divorce at the end of it all, with a generous settlement. Is that so bad a deal?’

  ‘I’d say it was a cold-blooded nightmare.’ Lou shook her head incredulously. ‘I can’t believe that Ellie would ever agree to such a thing.’

  ‘But then,’ he said softly, ‘you didn’t know Ellie as well as you thought—did you?’ He let that sink in for a moment. ‘And she certainly knew it was a business arrangement, and not a real marriage,’ he added evenly. ‘Although I admit we hadn’t got around to discussing the small print.’

  ‘No wonder she ran away,’ Lou said bitterly. She was silent for a moment. ‘But I still don’t understand why you picked Ellie. You’re a rich man. I’d have thought there would have been plenty of other more willing candidates around.’

  ‘Too willing,’ he said. ‘That was the problem. Because they might not have wanted to leave after they’d outlived their usefulness.’

  She said scornfully, ‘Do you really think you’re that irresistible?’