Bargain Wife

by Mary Burchell

  Tina paled, but she said nothing, and Collier went on meditatively:

  ‘Few men would like to think their wife might have to face a charge of swindling.’

  ‘No charge would be brought,’ Tina retorted curtly. Of that, at least, she was sure.

  ‘Oh?’ His eyebrows went up amusedly. ‘What makes you so sure of that?’

  ‘Charles would never bring a charge against me.’

  ‘He wouldn’t? What has he got to do with it?’

  Tina looked at her tormentor in surprise. Then she saw he was really unaware of one of the most important facts.

  ‘Don’t you realise that my husband would have inherited the money if Sonia Frayne had not?’

  ‘Is that so?’ he said slowly, and she saw that, momentarily, he was slightly put off, that he believed his case to be weakened. She pressed her advantage at once.

  ‘So you see,’ she smiled at him coolly and scornfully ‘you do not hold the threat of police proceedings over me.’

  He narrowed his eyes thoughtfully.

  ‘No. But the injury against your precious Charles Linton is infinitely greater than I thought,’ he retorted triumphantly.

  Tina bit her lip. She guessed that his more offensive way of referring to Charles probably meant that he was slightly less sure of himself. But even allowing for that, the devil still had it in his power to wreck her life.

  ‘And once he had withdrawn his interest,’ Collier went on, as though following her own train of thought, ‘there wouldn’t be anyone to help you if I had some nasty inquiries instituted. No, no. Miss Frayne. I should say Mrs. Linton! I think my silence must still have a pretty high value to you.’

  She saw that what she had almost imagined to be a way of escape was nothing but a blind alley after all.

  ‘How much?’ she asked abruptly.

  ‘Five thousand,’ he said, just as abruptly as she had.

  ‘Five thousand?’ She was almost relieved to find it was not twice that amount. ‘But—’

  ‘That should do for quite a long time,’ he explained smoothly, and every hope that had raised its head promptly died.

  ‘What do you mean “for quite a long time”?’

  ‘That it’s always a mistake to accept a lump sum when one can make it an income for life,’ was the cool reply.

  She sat there thinking that over in a numb and wretched way. The complete confirmation of all her worst fears.

  There was no escape but there must be.

  ‘I couldn’t agree to that,’ she said flatly at last.

  ‘To the five thousand, you mean?’

  To any arrangement which left you free to bleed me when you liked. So that I never had any sense of security or freedom.’

  He shrugged and smiled at her, but she thought she had never seen anything so hard as his eyes.

  ‘You bother too much about the future, my dear. Perhaps I’ll be lucky with the five thousand, and never have to ask you to oblige me again.’

  ‘Lucky? Lucky? What do you mean? Do you gamble with any money you get hold of?’ She looked at him with more lively distaste than ever, for she saw the endless, dreary path that stretched in front of them.

  He shrugged again. And after a moment she said:

  ‘If I if I gave you this five thousand, I couldn’t guarantee there would ever be any more, you know. This nursing-home that we’ve started it takes a lot of money and probably will take still more. We didn’t reckon to run it on a profit-paying basis. We meant—’

  She stopped suddenly and caught a trembling up between her teeth. Because they had meant it to be so beautiful and idealistic. They had meant to run that home for the sake of poor, suffering humanity. And now its very foundations were threatened by the filthy grip of a blackmailer. For a wild moment she wondered if she could explain to him make him see. But she knew, of course, that it was impossible. A man who could do what he was doing would have no interest in hopes and ideals. Even as she wondered he said dryly:

  I think you will usually be able to find any more.’

  ‘But if I have none left?’ She could visualise that sickening day so clearly. Perhaps some years hence but inevitably there in the future—the day when she could no longer satisfy this terrible man, and when she would have probably even more to lose than now, if exposure came.

  ‘You forget that your husband is a coming man,’ Collier told her coolly. ‘A man who will make a great deal of money as time goes on. A successful surgeon always does, you know. You will have a big allowance of your own if you play your cards well. Certainly enough to cover any indiscretion that may—’

  Tina got to her feet. ‘No! I won’t have Charles drawn into this.’

  Collier grabbed her by the arm. ‘There’s no need to get excited!’

  Tina laughed wretchedly. Suddenly she felt she must spring to her feet and get away from this dreadful man. Hardly knowing what she was doing, she brushed Collier aside and ran for the door wrenching it open and running into the blessedly cool air of the street outside. Aware of a startled cry behind her and the sound of Collier in hot pursuit, Tina ran out into the King’s Road, driven by a blind desire to escape.

  The sudden screech of brakes and the sound of a horn blaring brought an awareness of danger too late to help her. There was the sudden pain of something striking her side and then darkness.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  WHEN Tina came to herself again she was lying in a white-painted bed in a small, pleasant room with windows high up in the walls. She thought from the light that it must be evening, and from the sound of subdued bustle outside the room that she must be in a hospital.

  This might be the big accident hospital where Charles did so much of his work, and if so, he couldn’t be far away and she would see him soon.

  She lay there quietly for a long time, thinking things over. The terrible agitation and confusion of that scene in the restaurant had passed. She could think quite coolly now, and she wondered, not for the first time, what had happened to Philip Collier.

  Tina sighed and moved her heavily bandaged arm. She was not quite sure whether it was her arm that ached, or something right deep down inside her.

  Then the door opened and Charles came in, and she forgot about her arm or anything else.

  He looked tired, she thought, as he bent over her to kiss her. Tired, and something more than his age. It was the first time she had ever seen his magnificent vitality dimmed, and she said irresistibly:

  ‘Charles dear, you look worn out.’

  He smiled slightly.

  ‘Do I? Well, I’ve had a rather wearing twenty-four hours.’

  ‘Poor man! You must have I’m sorry to have given you all that anxiety. But I’m getting better now. I’ll soon be all right.’

  ‘Yes, you’ll soon be all right.’ He touched her fair hair lightly but very tenderly.

  She wondered if he would ask her what she had been doing in that little Chelsea restaurant, and above all, why Philip Collier had been there. But he said nothing, and after a moment she asked:

  ‘How did you know where I was?’

  ‘I phoned the hotel when I got back home last night and Mrs. Ardingley gave me your message. I was frantic with worry when they said you’d gone out and hadn’t got back yet, although it was after midnight. I caught the first train to Town and started ringing round the hospitals. You were brought in last night.’

  She frowned, trying to remember. ‘I ran in front of a car. I was trying to get away from Collier. He ran after me. I thought he was going to catch me.’

  Charles’ face was grim. ‘The car that swerved in an attempt to avoid you hit him. He was brought in here, but died shortly after. He wouldn’t have suffered at all.’

  ‘Like a judgment,’ Tina whispered, and felt, rather than saw, that Charles glanced at her curiously.

  ‘Like a judgment, eh?’ he said slowly at last. ‘So that was it.’

  She thought, then, he must surely ask for more details, but he seemed either
totally incurious or determined not to ask questions she might not want to answer. The escape was complete if she chose to take it. She knew instinctively that he would never mention Collier again if she didn’t. Not Collier’s death, but Charles’ generosity, was her complete salvation. He would accept the truth or a lie just as she cared to give it to him.

  It was for her to choose.

  ‘Charles—’ Nervously she fingered one of his cufflinks.

  ‘Yes?’

  ‘You don’t ask me what I was doing in that place with Collier.’

  There was an odd little pause. Then he said:

  ‘I’m sure you had your very good reasons for being there. You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to.’

  ‘I don’t have to tell you?’

  ‘Not,’ he repeated slowly, ‘if you don’t want to.’

  It was not even necessary to lie in so many words.

  Only to go on living that lie, secure in the knowledge that Charles would neither listen to nor believe anything that was said against her. It was the most complete get-out that had ever been offered to anyone. No shred of reason existed now for her to confess to him.

  And in that moment she knew suddenly that she must tell him. Just because there was no compulsion any more—only the fact that if her love for him were worth anything she must be as generous and as frank as he. Otherwise their life together would mean nothing.

  If he weighed the facts and judged against her well, then she had lost. But it was for him to say. She had fought and schemed and agonised over her choice, believing until this very moment that the choice was hers. But she was wrong. The choice was not hers at all. It was his.

  ‘Don’t tremble so,’ his voice said quietly, and only then did she know how agitated she was.

  She looked up at him piteously, and at the expression on his face she suddenly flung her arm round his neck and began to weep.

  ‘I love you so, Charles! I love you terribly. I can’t go on.’

  ‘Hush, darling, hush.’ He was kissing her and holding her very close. ‘Of course you love me. I know you do. I’ve known it for a long time now. But you must know I love you too. Why do you say you can’t go on? Why shouldn’t this marriage of ours go on to the last degree of living happy ever after?’

  ‘Oh, it’s not the marriage,’ she said with a little gasp. ‘You don’t understand.’

  ‘No, I know I don’t. I’m probably being dreadfully stupid.’ He kissed the top of her head again, as though she were a child. ‘But perhaps you’re going to make me understand, eh?’

  ‘Yes.’ That came in a whisper.

  He waited patiently, although her explanation was still some time coming. Then, when it came, it opened with the one devastating truth:

  ‘I’m not Sonia Frayne at all.’

  There was a short silence. Then he said:

  ‘Aren’t you? But what the devil does it matter? Do you think I love you for your name? I never liked “Sonia” in any case. What is your name?’

  She felt she was being sidetracked from the dreadful confession, but she could only answer a question put with so much affectionate curiosity.

  ‘Tina,’ she said in a small whisper.

  For some reason he laughed a good deal at that.

  ‘How sweet and silly! But it suits you ten thousand times better than Sonia.’

  ‘Because I’m sweet and silly?’ she felt bound to ask, though her smile was very wan.

  ‘No.’ He kissed her. ‘It’s a dear little name. I like it. Is that all the terrible confession amounts to?’

  ‘Oh, Charles don’t you see? I impersonated Sonia Frayne. I took the money.’

  ‘Oh, the deuce! So you did.’ He made a grimace. ‘How entirely ridiculous of you apart from any moral question. Did you really imagine you had the makings of a successful criminal?’

  ‘Charles, it’s not in the least funny.’ She buried her face against him, half in distress and half relief that he could still be sufficiently amused to tease her.

  ‘No, I see it’s really a confoundedly serious business. How much do we owe the genuine Sonia Frayne?’

  ‘We?’ She looked up in astonishment. ‘What have you got to do with this?’

  ‘Well, what do you think I have to do with it?’ He smiled down at her. ‘Isn’t it my business to get you out of the shocking fix you’ve plunged into?’

  She stared at him incredulously. Then she said slowly: ‘Would you really stand by me to that extent?’

  ‘Of course.’ He was serious now.

  ‘Even to the point of helping me to escape the consequences of a crime?’

  He wrinkled his forehead thoughtfully.

  ‘I suppose I’m not taking the crime part very seriously. I just know you aren’t the criminal type, child. You’ve just got yourself mixed up in some unholy mess—and I suppose Collier had something to do with it,’ he added grimly.

  ‘Charles, do you realise what you are saying?’

  ‘Eh?’ He looked rather puzzled.

  She pressed against him suddenly, as though his warmth and vitality were something that gave her strength too.

  ‘What you said meant that—that you hardly cared how wicked I’d been. You just didn’t believe it because you loved me.’

  He narrowed those bright, usually smiling eyes of his slightly.

  ‘All right, I suppose that about describes it. Have you perhaps forgotten that I nearly lost you last night? A few hours like that do a lot to clarify one’s thoughts, you know. One finds out the very few things that really matter. You’re one of them, that’s all.’

  He was perfectly serious. He was not even dramatic about it. The facts, for him, were just as he gave them.

  Tina put up her hand against his cheek, with an odd little caress which was more tender than anything else she had ever done.

  ‘Charles, no wonder I love you.’

  He laughed and flushed slightly.

  ‘Well, how do you think I could help loving you, come to that?’

  ‘By knowing the truth about me, I thought,’ she confessed with a sigh.

  ‘You thought I should stop loving you because of this ridiculous Sonia Frayne business?’

  ‘Most men would.’

  ‘I’m not concerned with “most men”. Their reactions don’t interest me,’ he said with perfect truth, and she realised with a little smile of relief that that was so. Charles was completely independent of what one should do or think or what other people would do or think. He had his own standards and his own scale of Values, and he followed them arrogantly sometimes but with absolute sincerity.

  After that, somehow, there was very little difficulty in explaining about her friendship with Sonia, her desperate longing to come home, and the sudden incredible chance which was offered.

  He listened quietly and without any interruption while she told him about Sonia’s offer, followed immediately by Sonia’s tragic death. His only comment was:

  ‘So there is no Sonia Frayne really?’

  ‘No,’ Tina shook her head. ‘That’s why it’s really you that I’ve been defrauding all the time, you see.’

  ‘Me?’ Charles regarded her in astonishment. Then he threw his head back and laughed and laughed.

  ‘Oh, Charles, it’s nothing to laugh at,’ she protested. ‘It’s such an awful thing to have done.’

  ‘I should say it is now that I recognise myself as the victim,’ he agreed amusedly.

  ‘But the money is yours now,’ she pleaded anxiously.

  ‘What’s left of it,’ he pointed out teasingly.

  ‘I haven’t spent much,’ she whispered. ‘Except on the nursing-home. And I thought—I thought—’

  ‘Oh, darling!’ The teasing expression was gone suddenly to be succeeded by one of the utmost tenderness. ‘Was that why you were so anxious for me to have my nursing-home?’

  ‘Not only that.’ Tina spoke in a low voice. ‘At least, that was the main idea at first. But when I understood I wanted
it so much too, Charles. It was such a wonderful idea. Even if the money had been mine, dear, you should have had it for just that purpose. It isn’t mine. It’s your money and your nursing-home. But I wanted you to have it all, Charles, I wanted you so much to have it.’

  ‘I see.’ He was perfectly grave now. ‘I do understand. But it isn’t mine, you know, or yours. It’s ours in trust.’

  ‘In trust?’

  ‘Yes,’ he said slowly, and he used the expression which had passed through her own mind only last night. ‘In trust for poor, suffering humanity.’

  ‘Charles! Is that how you feel? I thought somehow that you—’

  ‘Yes? What did you think about me?’

  ‘That money was rather important to you. I even heard it said once that you declared you would marry for money.’

  ‘Well, didn’t I do just that?’ But his smile was graver than usual.

  ‘Not in that sense.’

  ‘No.’ He put his cheek thoughtfully against her hair. ‘I suppose there was a time when I might well have done just that,’ he admitted slowly. ‘I’m not going to pretend that I’m less ambitious or selfish or fond of money than the next man. Of course I like money we all do. But values are changing, Tina. Not just your values or my values but all values. It doesn’t really matter if that money is yours or mine or someone else’s. All that matters is what is done with it.’

  She smiled slowly and very happily.

  ‘And you think that what we have chosen to do with our money is right?’ she said with satisfaction.

  ‘I think,’ Charles said deliberately, ‘ that to buy new life in a world so tragically full of death is the most exciting and romantic and wonderful thing that can happen to anyone.’

  There was a long silence. Then she said with a sigh: ‘Charles, I’m so happy.’

  ‘Yes, so am I.’

  ‘I can even think of Philip Collier without bitterness now.’

  He moved slightly.

  ‘You still haven’t told me his place in the story. You weren’t in love with him or married to him some time or anything, were you?’

  ‘Charles, how ridiculous! Of course not. It was just that he recognised me, realised that I had claimed money which wasn’t mine, and proposed to blackmail me.’