Wife for Hire

by Dianne Blacklock

  ‘I went to the conference.’

  ‘But you were with her.’

  He sighed audibly. ‘Yes.’

  She lay there, gazing past him, unresponsive.

  ‘Sam, I don’t want to leave you alone like this.’

  ‘I’m not your concern any more.’

  ‘Don’t say that –’

  ‘Oh just piss off would you, Jeff?’ she cried suddenly. ‘It may be half your house but this is my bedroom now, so get the fuck out!’

  ‘Okay, I realise you’re angry –’

  ‘Well, aren’t you the rocket fucking scientist?’

  ‘Look, Sam, don’t keep this up. Can’t we talk?’

  She looked at him now. ‘What, so I can listen to you salve your guilty conscience? I don’t think I’ll give you the satisfaction, Jeff. I’ve had enough of your bullshit for one lifetime, thanks all the same.’

  He sighed deeply and stood up. ‘I’ll call you later.’

  ‘Don’t bother.’

  He stood there for a moment longer but she didn’t move or look at him. Then he left the room. Eventually she heard the front door close downstairs and, shortly after, his car pull away down the street. And then it was quiet again.

  Sam lay there for a long time without moving. She felt warm and very safe, Hal needn’t have worried. In fact, she could stay here for as long as she liked. She didn’t need to get up for anything. She didn’t feel like eating, she couldn’t imagine eating anything again without choking on it. She would like something to drink though. There was an open bottle of wine in the fridge, but she would have to get up to go and get it. She didn’t want it that much.

  She would just lie here instead.

  ‘Mum. Mum!’

  Sam heard the voice from a long way away. She shut her eyes tighter.

  ‘Mum?’

  It sounded closer this time.

  ‘Don’t you have to pick up the girls?’

  Sam roused. ‘What?’ she croaked.

  ‘Are you sick?’

  She blinked, squinting up at the figure above her. For a second she thought it was Jeff.

  ‘Mum, can you hear me?’

  It was Josh. She sighed, relieved. ‘What’s up, Josh?’

  ‘Jess rang, freaking out’ cause you haven’t picked her up.’

  ‘Oh Christ, where is she?’ Sam sat bolt upright, then had to hold her head to stop it spinning.

  ‘She said she’d go to Emma’s and wait for you there.’ Josh frowned at her. ‘Are you okay, Mum?’

  She nodded. ‘I wasn’t feeling well, I must have drifted off.’

  ‘What about Ellie?’

  ‘What’s the time?’

  He glanced at the bedside clock. ‘Four thirty-two.’

  ‘That’s okay, the centre doesn’t close until six.’ She rubbed her forehead. ‘Just give me a minute, Josh,’ she said. He left the room and Sam quickly changed out of her dishevelled clothes, washed her face and pulled a brush through her hair. She surveyed herself in the mirror. Ugh, she’d have to keep her sunglasses on.

  Josh was hovering around the bottom of the stairs when she came down.

  ‘Are you sure you’re okay, Mum?’

  ‘Yes, I feel a lot better now.’

  ‘Some guy rang before, Hal somebody? He had an accent.’

  Sam nodded. ‘He’s a client.’ That was two phone calls she hadn’t heard, she must have really passed out.

  ‘He was the one who made me check your room. I didn’t even realise you were home.’

  She looked at Josh. Poor kid, he seemed anxious. Sam took a step closer and put her arms around him, hugging him tight.

  ‘Mum,’ he grumbled. ‘Cut it out.’

  She released him, smiling up at him. ‘Thanks for being here, Josh. And I’m alright. I’m feeling much better, in fact.’

  But driving out of the cul-de-sac, Sam still felt a little shaken. It occurred to her that a person could sink into depression in the blink of an eye. She’d lost an afternoon, that had never happened to her before. Thank God for the kids. They would keep her going. She would keep going, and move on. She could not let herself get stuck in the mire of a broken marriage.

  She would contact the solicitor tomorrow and make an appointment. And then she’d ask Sheila for more clients. She was already matching her wage from the MRA and planned to resign soon. But now she’d need to build her client list further. She was going to be the star employee of Wife for Hire because she was a fabulous wife. The best. And Jeff could choke on that.

  Eight p.m.

  ‘Hello, is that you, Samantha?’

  This time she recognised the voice.

  ‘Hal, I’m sorry I haven’t returned your call –’

  ‘Don’t worry about it. I was a little concerned, that’s all.’

  Sam felt uncomfortable. She hardly knew Hal Buchanan, yet somehow he had got caught up in her personal life. She had to put an end to that.

  ‘No cause for concern, Hal. I wasn’t feeling well earlier today, but it seems to have passed. Now, what can I do for you?’ she said officiously.

  ‘Um, well, I was calling about . . .’ He paused. He sounded a bit vague. ‘Originally, this morning, I was calling . . . Look, are you sure you’re okay?’

  Sam sighed heavily. ‘I’m fine,’ she insisted. ‘What is it that you were calling about?’

  ‘Okay. Well, actually, there’s another function . . .’

  ‘Didn’t I say it was a one-off last time?’

  ‘Yeah, but I figured that seeing you had such a good time, and you found me such unexpectedly charming company, you’d reconsider.’

  Sam was smiling. He was a charmer alright.

  ‘It’s Saturday the twenty-eighth, black tie, at the Ritz Carlton.’

  She glanced at the calendar. ‘I have the kids that weekend.’ She would also be working most of the day at the Blairs, helping prepare for a cocktail party.

  ‘Didn’t your husband and you ever go out, hire a sitter?’

  ‘Occasionally, when we could afford it.’ She realised that probably didn’t sound very professional.

  ‘Well, put any expenses on my account.’

  ‘I didn’t mean to imply that –’

  ‘Look, it’s fine. I don’t know how all this works, but you said you were still in the red with me, so knock yourself out. The company’s already paid.’

  Sam thought about it. She needed to keep her clients happy. If this is what Mr Buchanan wanted, then she would have to deliver.

  ‘Okay, just let me take down the details.’

  Thursday

  Visiting Ted Dempsey each week was like respite for Sam. In the cool, tranquil quiet of his home she felt a sense of serenity that evaded her most other places these days. It almost didn’t feel right being paid, especially as she barely had an hour’s worth of work to do. Yet the way the billing worked, she was paid for a minimum of two hours just for showing up.

  ‘Isn’t there anything else you’d like me to do for you, Ted?’ Sam asked him. ‘I feel guilty taking your money for so little.’

  ‘You are performing an invaluable service for me, Samantha,’ he assured her. ‘I only hope you get your fair share of my subscription fee.’

  ‘Oh, I do,’ she insisted. ‘And to be honest, I think I’d do this for free.’

  ‘Well you must be easily amused if this is any kind of a treat for you, Samantha.’

  She smiled. ‘It is a treat coming to your lovely home every week and sitting in the peace and quiet.’

  Ted looked chuffed. ‘Then I’ve been remiss. I haven’t taken you on a tour of the house yet, have I?’

  Sam had been dying to have a good look around since the first time she’d come here. But they always sat in the conservatory, looking out to the garden. As pleasant as that was, Sam was unprepared for the magnificence of the rest of the house. Every room was elegantly proportioned, with high ceilings, tall windows and grand fireplaces. Gleaming polished floors were topped with gorgeous Persi
an rugs, and the furniture throughout was, of course, to die for.

  In the formal sitting room, Sam spotted a group of photographs in silver frames. She knew Ted was a widower and that he had a son and a grandson living in the UK. She hadn’t asked Ted any personal questions, believing it was not appropriate and, frankly, not her business. Ted had said he hoped the service would be discreet, so she had made every effort to convince him it was just that, despite her curiosity.

  But looking down at a large framed picture of a woman, probably taken about fifty years ago, Sam knew she was looking at Mrs Dempsey.

  ‘Is this your wife?’ she asked tentatively.

  He walked over to stand next to her, nodding. ‘That’s Alice. She was only twenty-one in that photograph. It was just before we were married.’

  ‘She’s very beautiful.’

  He smiled fondly, taking the frame in his hands and holding it closer, examining the photo lovingly. ‘Yes, she was.’ He looked across at Sam. ‘We were married for forty-two years.’

  Sam felt a sudden pang in her chest, and the back of her throat tightened. To be married all that time and still look at his wife’s photo with such longing in his eyes.

  ‘Do you miss her?’

  ‘Every single day. But in a good way. I don’t pine. Alice would not have wanted me to pine,’ he said, looking back at the photo. ‘I just miss the easy familiarity, sharing a thought that crosses your mind, that kind of thing.’

  Sam swallowed down the lump in her throat. She hadn’t spoken to Jeff since Monday. She left the answering machine on while she was home during the day and ignored his messages asking her to call. When he phoned the kids at night he asked to speak to her, but she had managed to fob him off so far, without them twigging. She wasn’t going to start a cold war, she just didn’t want to deal with him right now. It was too hard. She had another week’s grace till it was his weekend with the kids and then she’d have to face him regardless. She might have the wherewithal by then.

  ‘Let me show you my favourite room,’ said Ted, placing the frame carefully back into position. He directed her through an adjoining door into a large, high-ceilinged room that was lined on all four walls with books. Sam gasped.

  ‘A library! How fantastic!’

  ‘You like books?’ he asked.

  She nodded enthusiastically. ‘Not that I get the time to read very often. But if I had a room like this! Just to come in here and sit would be enough.’

  ‘It’s not.’

  ‘Sorry?’

  Ted looked at her sadly. ‘That’s all I can do now, sit here and look. And I assure you, it’s not enough.’

  ‘Oh, I’m sorry, I wasn’t thinking.’ Sam paused, considering the packed shelves. ‘I could read to you,’ she suggested tentatively.

  ‘No,’ he shook his head, ‘I told you not to feel sorry for me.’

  ‘I’m not. I just . . .’ she faltered. ‘The thing is, I would love to read to you. I couldn’t think of a more pleasant way to while away an hour or so. And we’d still have plenty of time to keep up with your correspondence.’

  Ted looked at her. ‘This is above and beyond the call of duty.’

  ‘Let me be the judge of that.’ Sam walked across to the shelves. ‘Now, where shall we start?’

  Saturday the twenty-eighth

  Sam pulled the car into the visitors parking of the converted warehouse development where the Blairs had their apartment. She switched off the engine and turned to Ellie.

  ‘Now sweetheart, remember what Mummy said . . .’

  ‘Don’t say I’m hungry all the time,’ said Ellie solemnly, ‘or noy Donimic and Vamessa.’

  Sam smiled at her. ‘Do-min-ic won’t be here today, only Vannn-essa, and you won’t annoy her, just try not to talk her ear off.’

  Ellie nodded. ‘Okay Mummy.’

  ‘Have you got all your things?’

  Sam had packed Ellie’s pre-school bag with a couple of favourite toys, enough snacks for three children, as well as colouring books and pencils. She didn’t dare bring textas into the Blair’s all-white, minimalist designer apartment. She’d had nightmares about the very idea. Vanessa had been extraordinarily understanding, even enthusiastic, when Sam had phoned to ask if it was alright to bring Ellie along. She’d asked lots of questions about how old she was and what she liked to do. Sam kept trying to reassure Vanessa that she wouldn’t even know Ellie was there, and not to be concerned, everything would be organised for the cocktail party in plenty of time. Vanessa had replied she wasn’t concerned at all.

  They buzzed Vanessa on the intercom before taking the lift up to the sixth floor. Sam would have to make at least a couple more trips back down to the car to bring up all the shopping. She had exchanged emails with Dominic all week, haggling over the menu. Having not had a husband who cared about this sort of thing, Sam found his obsessiveness a little irritating. She wished he would just let her get on with it. She wondered how Vanessa put up with him.

  Vanessa was waiting for them at the door of the apartment. ‘Hello!’ she exclaimed, crouching down. ‘You must be Ellie!’

  Ellie nodded. ‘You must be Vannn-essa.’

  She grinned. ‘Come on in.’ Ellie took the hand she offered and they walked through into the living area. Sam settled the bags on the kitchen counter.

  ‘There’s more down in the car,’ she said.

  ‘Oh, do you need a hand?’ Vanessa offered.

  ‘No, that’s okay. Ellie, you come with me.’

  ‘No, I’ll watch her, don’t be silly.’

  ‘Are you sure?’ Sam frowned.

  ‘Absolutely,’ Vanessa insisted. ‘That’s if it’s okay with Ellie. Do you mind keeping me company, Ellie?’

  Ellie beamed. ‘I’ll be good, Mummy. I won’t be noying.’

  As it turned out, the caretaker of the building was in the foyer and, seeing Sam struggle with all the bags, he fetched a trolley and helped her get everything to the apartment in one trip.

  ‘Look what Vanessa gave me, Mummy!’ Ellie exclaimed when Sam came back. She held up a lime green box. ‘It’s Polly Pocket’s Sparkle House!’

  ‘Oh, Vanessa, you really shouldn’t have.’ It was an expensive toy and she was sure Dominic would have no idea.

  ‘It’s alright.’

  ‘No, Vanessa, you really shouldn’t have. I can’t allow Ellie to accept this.’

  Ellie’s face dropped. So did Vanessa’s.

  ‘But why not, Sam?’ she entreated.

  ‘It’s too expensive, and well, you’re my client. It’s not appropriate.’

  Vanessa frowned. ‘As for the cost, that’s not an issue, you know that, Sam. And gosh, I had hoped we could be friends as well as clients.’

  Sam looked at Ellie and Vanessa. They both had the same plaintive expression on their faces.

  ‘Then what do you say, Ellie?’

  ‘Thank you, Vanessa!’ she exclaimed, throwing her arms around her new best friend.

  ‘Let’s go and put it together,’ suggested Vanessa brightly.

  The two of them skittered across the room. Vanessa dragged the coffee table out of the way and they plonked down on the rug. Sam looked through the shopping bags, sorting out what had to be refrigerated and what she should start on straightaway. Dominic had left yet another set of instructions, as if he hadn’t made himself clear enough already. Sam could do this blindfolded, she really didn’t need him second-guessing her.

  She spent the next couple of hours chopping, slicing, stuffing and marinating. She could have organised a caterer to do this but she enjoyed it, and this way she was the one getting paid. It was very therapeutic, all this fiddly work, particularly when you didn’t have the added stress of having to entertain the guests that evening. Sam thought it was probably like the feeling grandparents spoke of, relishing the time with their grandchildren all the more because they could hand them back at the end of the day.

  She had not expected Vanessa and Ellie to hit it off so well. She had worri
ed that she’d be trying to hold down a conversation with Vanessa, keep Ellie occupied and get the food prepared. But the two of them were completely absorbed. Vanessa was tireless. Sam loved her children, but there was a certain point when their games became monotonous and, frankly, boring. But Vanessa seemed nowhere near that point.

  ‘You’re very good with her,’ said Sam when they took a break for lunch.

  ‘I love kids, especially Ellie’s age,’ said Vanessa, her eyes shining. ‘I always wanted to be a pre-school teacher.’

  ‘Why didn’t you?’

  She shrugged, toying with her sandwich. ‘I was good at maths and I finished the Year 12 syllabus in Year 10. So they called me and my parents in for a meeting with the principal and the maths head teacher, and someone else, I think from the uni. They asked me what I wanted to do when I left school, and I said pre-school teaching. They all laughed.’ She paused. ‘They didn’t ask me again after that, they just told me what I’d be doing.’

  ‘That didn’t bother you?’

  She put her head to one side thoughtfully. ‘Mum and Dad were really proud, you know? Like I said, maths was easy for me, so I didn’t mind.’

  Clearly Vanessa had always done what everyone else wanted her to do. No wonder Dominic didn’t faze her.

  ‘Well, you’ll have your own kids one day,’ Sam offered hopefully.

  Vanessa shrugged again. ‘Mm. Not for a while. Dominic doesn’t want to even discuss it for another five years. Hey, Ellie,’ she said, changing the subject. ‘Do you want to go to the park?’

  Ellie glanced at her mother.

  ‘It’s quite safe, and it’s not far from here,’ Vanessa reassured Sam.

  ‘That’s not the problem. I really have to go over the steps for tonight, what gets put in the oven and when, the order of serving the food, that kind of thing.’ Dominic had been very clear that Sam should ‘train’ Vanessa; he’d actually used that word.

  She turned up her nose. ‘Ugh. Couldn’t you just write it all down? I’m fine at following instructions, really.’

  Sam didn’t doubt that, with Dominic for a husband. Vanessa and Ellie went off happily to the park while Sam sipped coffee and worked out a schedule for the evening. When they returned, Sam sat Vanessa down and started to take her through what she had planned. She was less than enthralled.