THE HUSBAND HUNTERS

by LUCY LAING

‘I know you’ve been with another man,’ he had snarled at her. She was taken by surprise – this hadn’t been the Pete that she had lived with for the last few months, who had brought her flowers every Friday night, on his way home from work. She had barely opened her mouth to say that one of the roads had been closed and she’d had to follow a diversion and got lost, before his fist slammed into her mouth.

  ‘I didn’t know what had happened,’ Lisa’s voice was almost a whisper, as she stood in the witness box, hands gripping on to the front for support. ‘I could feel something running down my chin, and realized it was my own blood. I didn’t know what to do. Then Pete took me in his arms and hugged me. “I’m sorry,” he kept saying, again and again. “I saw red. I love you and I didn’t want to think of you with anyone else.” I tried to explain to him that I hadn’t been with anyone else, and he seemed to believe me. I thought then, that it had been a one-off mistake, and that it wouldn’t happen again, but a week later it did.

  I had walked in, and this time I wasn’t late at all – but I could see in his eyes that something was going to happen and I was so frightened. This time he grabbed my hair and rammed my face into the door, which gave me a huge, black eye. Each time he would say he was sorry and that he hadn’t meant to hurt me. In the end, I knew I had to get out, not only for my sake, but my son’s, too. I didn’t want him to get hurt.’

  Lisa finished giving her evidence, and stepped down. She started walking back to the door, when suddenly she went deathly white and collapsed on to the floor. A court usher rushed over to her and helped her to her feet, and then supported by two ushers, Lisa was led out of the courtroom to get some fresh air.

  It was Kaz’s turn. She came into the court room and strode towards the witness box. Her eyes were flashing with anger, and she didn’t need to hold on to the front for support, as she gave her evidence in a clear voice. She told the court a similar story to Lisa. She had never told us all the details, and I flinched in my seat, as Kaz told how Pete had used her as a human punch bag, time and time again.

  ‘I never wanted to press any charges,’ she finished up. ‘I wanted to put this terrible experience behind me and get on with my life – but now I realize that what I did was wrong.

  In a way, I was as bad as Pete was. By burying my head in the sand and wanting to selfishly get on with my own life, I was responsible for what happened to Lisa.’ I looked over at the judge, who was slowly shaking his head. ‘If I had spoken out,’ carried on Kaz, ‘then this may never have happened to Lisa. Kaz stared defiantly over at Pete, whose face was impassive. ‘And that's why we are both here now – we want to protect other women from going through such a terrible nightmare.’

  I wanted to applaud Kaz, as she stepped down from the box. I looked over to where Pete’s new girlfriend was sitting, at the side of the court. She kept shaking her head as if she didn’t believe what Kaz and Lisa had told the court. I wanted to go over and give her a shake, and say that these two brave women had done this for her, so she wouldn’t end up with any broken bones in the future – but she looked like she would have thrown a punch at me.

  Pete had pleaded not guilty to the charges, but after the court had heard the girls’ terrible accounts of what had happened to them, there was no chance that Pete was going to get off. He hung his head as the guilty verdict was given.

  Kaz was jubilant. She and Lisa hugged each other tightly outside the courtroom. Lisa had drunk some water and had sat in the fresh air and was now feeling better.

  ‘I’m glad we did it,’ she said, hugging Kaz. ‘I feel like a weight has been lifted off my shoulders – and I couldn’t have done it without you.’

  ‘Me neither,’ admitted Kaz, hugging her tightly back.

  I was choked with emotion as I watched them both. Kaz had done herself proud – she could have gone to pieces in there, but she had been so brave. And best of all, she could finally lay her demons to rest.

  ‘I was so pleased that he was found guilty,’ said Kaz, as we sat around the table that night, at the meeting. ‘He is due to be sentenced in a few weeks time and whatever sentence he gets, he won’t have it easy in prison with the fellow inmates – having been sent down for hitting women.’

  Rach popped open a bottle of champagne, and poured it into four glasses. We all raised a toast to Kaz. Then it was Tash’s turn. We were all dying to hear what had happened with Rob Beale, after we left the bar the other night.

  ‘Neither of us could believe it, when we saw the other one,’ admitted Tash, ‘but we sat down and talked about it. He told me that he’s always had feelings for me, even after it all ended, all those years ago. He has never forgotten about me, and I told him that I have never forgotten about him, too.’

  I could feel myself getting misty-eyed. Could this be Tash’s happy ending after all? What a victory for the club.

  ‘But,’ Tash added, ‘after everything that has happened with Hazel, I just don’t know whether we have any sort of future together – and I’m not ready to be a surrogate mum to two kids either. I’ve never been the maternal type.’

  ‘He will only have them once a week, or at the weekends,’ pointed out Rach. ‘They would be living with Hazel. You wouldn’t be a full-time mum to them.’

  ‘I know that,’ said Tash, ‘but also you’ve forgotten that Hazel hates me – she still sees me as the girl who nearly wrecked her marriage all those years ago; even if she has got a new man, she isn’t going to want me and Rob to be together.’ She sighed, twirling her champagne around in her glass.

  ‘What does Rob think about it all?’ asked Kaz.

  ‘He wants us to be together,’ said Tash. ‘He doesn’t see it as a problem. As far as he’s concerned, he is no longer with Hazel. If we do make a go of it, I dread to think what will happen, if Hazel finds out. I’d best get a bodyguard,’ she said, grimly, taking a slug of her champagne.

  I sighed. Bang went my fantasy of a happy ending for Tash. It was looking more likely that she was going to end up rolled up in a carpet – but this time in Mrs Beale’s boot.

  I clicked on the minutes the next morning. This husband-hunting lark wasn’t turning out to be as straightforward as I’d first hoped.

  PROGRESS REPORTS.

  * Kaz’s blind date to take place in two days’ time – girls not to be judgmental, if Kaz decides that Adam isn’t the right man for her. (I shook my head in despair when I read that one. That was the advantage for Kaz, of writing the minutes; she could write whatever she damn well pleased.)

  * Tash to wear her back protector – the one she normally wears for horse show-jumping and cross-country events – out at all times, as it would serve as a bullet-proof vest in case Mrs Beale turns nasty. Tash had protested that she couldn’t wear any close-fitting tops as the back protector was so bulky. Rach said it was better to look bulky than to be riddled with bullet holes.

  * Jen’s reply – at last. (I had wanted this one at the top as I thought it was the most important. I had nearly wet myself with excitement when I got the second email in from Jen’s fan club, saying that they had submitted our proposal to Jen for her consideration. Ha! This wasn’t just a standard reply – even Nick had been a bit more impressed when I had waved it in front of his nose.) Kaz said we could always put Prince Harry on Jen’s list as he wasn’t married off yet, and Jen would definitely be impressed with a bit of royalty on her list.

  * The Baby Doll Idea. Rach had suggested that we get one of those dolls that they take around schools to show teenage girls what it’s like to look after a baby. I think it’s meant to act as a form of contraception and show girls that babies are really difficult to look after, but Rach said that she wanted us to feel comfortable around her baby when it arrived, and be able to hold it, feed it and change its nappies. ‘It will be great for you all to have some practice,’ she had said enthusiastically. (I’m not sure about this idea. I think I might feign illness at the next meeting – rather than sit there with my other nearly thirty-year-old friends, passing
around a doll in front of other diners. )

  * Bee’s cookery lessons coming on nicely. She is no Delia, but at least she doesn’t have to call the fire brigade out every time she switches on the cooker. (Tash has been round to mine three times now and each time taught me to cook a different dish. We still hadn’t tried my hand again at duck a l’orange. Tash said I’d had a lucky escape from that one and I should leave it at that. She has taught me beef stroganoff, lasagne, and a funny, chorizo pasta thing, which was gorgeous. I’m almost tempted to ask Nick over again, just to show him I’m not a completely hopeless dork in the kitchen, but I need to practise the stroganoff one more time before I try it for real.)

  ***

  Two days later and it was time for Kaz’s blind date.

  ‘I know I’m not going to like him,’ she grumbled down the phone to me that afternoon.

  ‘Tash says he’s pretty hot. She was round at her mum’s house last week and he was building their extension. He was stripped down to a white, sleeveless T-shirt and he was sweating too,’ I added, enthusiastically. In my opinion, a sweat-covered, white sleeveless T-shirt was nearly as good as a wet shirt dunked in a lake. ‘It’s a modern day Mr Darcy look,’ I told Kaz, firmly.

  ‘Yes, but this guy is the equivalent of Mr Darcy’s poor servant boy,’ she said. ‘I don’t think it’s going to work.’

  I despaired of Kaz. She needed to give Adam a chance.

  ‘Sometimes love is more important than money,’ I said to Nick, as I hung up from Kaz.

  ‘Yes, but not everyone is a permanent, walking romance novel, like you,’ Nick teased. ‘If that's what is important to Kaz, then there’s nothing you can do to change that. ‘

  ‘If she carries on like this, she’ll end up like Miss Havisham,’ I fretted. ‘Lonely and covered in cobwebs.’

  Nick laughed. ‘I know you are trying to find husbands for each other, but you can’t make Kaz into something that she isn’t,’ he said.

  ‘I was born in the wrong century,’ I grumbled to Nick. ‘It would have been much easier to have the Husband Hunters Club in the nineteenth century. I would have paraded the five of us at some country ball full of nice rich men, with our heaving bosoms falling out of our bodices, and that would have been it. We would all have been married off within an instant, without all this twenty-first-century heartache.’

  ‘There would have been two problems with that,’ said Nick. ‘Firstly not all of you have been blessed with heaving bosoms.’ He looked pointedly at my 34A chest. He did have a point. They didn’t even have Wonderbras in the 19th century. ‘Secondly,’ continued Nick, ‘life expectancy was so short then – you would have probably all been dead by the age of thirty anyway, from scarlet fever, or a massive outbreak of boils.’

  That was true too. One spot on the side of my chin was bad enough – no amount of Clearasil would have been able to cope with an outbreak of mountainous boils. Nick did have a point, although I didn’t like the fact that he had noticed my lack of a heaving bosom. Just because his pubescent girlfriend had perfectly-proportioned, pert boobs, didn’t mean he could criticize me. I crossed my arms across my chest and glared at Nick.

  ‘You could have stuffed a few bread rolls down there, instead of a Wonderbra,’ he added, helpfully. ‘Those posh country balls usually had a buffet, too.’ I picked up my stapler and threatened to brain him with it.

  ‘Well, I couldn’t see you looking good in a pair of nineteenth-century breeches,’ I retorted huffily, ‘unless you stuffed a few budgies down the front of them.’

  ‘I didn’t know you had been checking out the size of my manhood,’ he said, grabbing a piece of paper and covering up the front of his trousers. ‘My mum has a couple of budgies at home. Perhaps I’d better bring them in if I’m going to impress you.’

  I couldn’t help laughing at the thought of Nick stuffing his mum’s poor budgies into his trousers, but I quickly turned it into a cough. I didn’t want Nick to think I thought his jokes were remotely funny. Actually the budgie thing was quite a good idea. I could call the RSCPA and have Nick done for animal cruelty and taken away. That would cheer me up no end.

  ***

  Kazza had agreed to meet me for lunch on Friday to tell me all about her blind date. I was beside myself with excitement all morning. At last it was 12 noon and I raced across the road to Saleros, where Kaz had already bagged our favourite table.

  We ordered our cappuccinos and sat down. ‘Well, how did it go?’ I asked anxiously. Kaz didn’t say anything for a few seconds, as she sat stirring her coffee.

  ‘He was nice,’ she finally admitted. ‘And you will never guess what his surname is. He’s Adam Darcy.’ I nearly choked on my cappuccino. Kaz had gone out with a real life, modern day, Mr Darcy.

  ‘It is fate,’ I screamed at Kaz, thumping her on the back in my wild excitement. ‘I can’t believe that you are going out with an actual Mr Darcy.’ I could feel myself turning physically green with envy. ‘Oh, you’re such a lucky, lucky, lucky thing!’

  ‘Calm down, Bee,’ said Kaz, laughing at me. ‘Yes, he’s very nice, and he is called Darcy, but he’s not like the Mr Darcy, with his own mansion. He’s just ordinary Adam, the builder.’

  ‘Kaz, he’s hot looking, and he’s called Mr Darcy. What more do you want?’ I asked, flabbergasted. What on earth was wrong with Kaz? If it had happened to me, I would have thought it was all my birthdays, Christmases and lottery wins all rolled into one.

  ‘I do like him and we got on really well,’ said Kaz. ‘He is funny too – he had me in stitches most of the night – but he doesn’t even own his own company – he works for someone else, and he lives with his mum on a council estate in Manchester.’ She paused. ‘I can’t go back to that, Bee, I really can’t,’ she pleaded.

  ‘I don’t know what to do,’ I said to Tash, later that night at the stables. ‘Adam sounds perfect for her, yet she isn’t prepared to give him a chance.’

  ‘He really likes her; he told my mum,’ said Tash. ‘He’s going to ask her out for a meal at the weekend, so we have to make her say yes. You never know, there might be more to Adam than meets the eye,’ she added mysteriously. ‘Kaz shouldn’t judge people on their first appearances.’

  ‘What do you mean?’ I asked her. ‘Do you know something that you aren’t telling me?’

  ‘Absolutely not,’ she said, her face completely straight. ‘Do you think I would keep anything from you?’

  ‘Err, yes,’ I said, sarcastically, reminding her of the dozens of Facebook emails she had been exchanging with Mr Beale for three years, without mentioning it to any of us.

  ‘That’s different,’ she argued. ‘I didn’t think it was important enough to make a big deal of.’

  ‘Yes, well,’ I said, impatiently, wanting to get back to the subject of Adam.

  ‘All I’m saying is that Kaz should open her mind and give him a chance, that's all,’ said Tash. ‘I don’t know anything about Adam, other than the fact that he is doing my mum’s conservatory – but he may end up surprising her, that’s all. Life has a funny way of giving you a surprise, when you least expect it.’

  ‘That’s certainly true,’ I said. ‘Look at Soph with Paul. That certainly was a big surprise – a great big kick in the teeth, in fact.’

  ‘You’ll get your Mr Darcy one day, Bee,’ reassured Tash, giving me a quick hug.’

  ‘Yes,’ I grumbled. ‘He’ll eventually come and rescue me from the nursing home in my yellowed wedding dress and pull the cobwebs off me, just in time for me to croak it.’

  Tash laughed. ‘Have a little bit more faith in us all, Bee. We’ll make sure you find a decent husband, don’t you worry,’ she promised. ‘What about this Nick guy? Kaz said he’s pretty good-looking, and he did cook you that lovely dinner.’

  ‘Nick is not my type at all,’ I said, pulling a face. ‘Okay, he’s good in the kitchen, but that's about all.’

  ‘Kaz seemed to think he fancied you,’ said Tash, giving me a sly wink.

&nb
sp; ‘God – no,’ I said. ‘He’s already got a girlfriend and we don’t fancy each other at all. I like my men to at least be here in the 21st century – if I can’t have them from the eighteenth century – not stuck in the 1980s.’

  ‘Methinks the lady doth protest too much,’ she said, retreating into the feed room to mix some horse feeds. I threw a brush at Tash’s back. Honestly, me and Nick as a couple – it was about as likely as the Pope and Jordan getting together.

  **************************************

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  I had always wanted to visit a fortune-teller. As a little girl I had been fascinated by the gypsy-looking women with heavily-kohled eyes on beach front promenades, peering out of the windows of their wooden huts.

  My grandma used to take us to the beach front at Blackpool at weekends, and I’d be desperate to go inside and touch their crystal balls and peek behind their mysterious, red velvet curtains. I’d always thought that visiting fortune-tellers – who were all called Gypsy Rose Lee or something equally magical – was something that you did when you were grown up.

  It had been discussed in length at one of our first meetings, and we all thought that having our fortunes read would be a good idea. I made a mental note not to tell Mum that I was going. She’d had a friend once who’d gone to see a fortune-teller when she was about 16, and the fortune-teller had looked into her crystal ball and told her that she couldn’t see anything for her, and the ball was all black. Mum’s friend had been scared witless for about the next 50 years that she was going to drop dead any second. It had been a hang-up of mum’s ever since, and I’d always had to promise her that I would never go. So I did feel a bit traitorous when we were all discussing it, and I hoped mum would never find out.