Wife for Hire

by Dianne Blacklock

  The penny dropped. ‘Oh Christ,’ said Sam. ‘She’s got her period, hasn’t she?’

  ‘Yes!’ The relief in his voice was palpable.

  ‘Oh, the poor kid. Is she okay?’

  ‘I think so, but she wants to go home, if that’s alright?’

  Sam wasn’t surprised, seeing as her father couldn’t even bring himself to say the word ‘period’. ‘Of course it’s alright.’

  ‘She wants her mum.’

  Sam unexpectedly felt tears spring to her eyes. She swallowed. ‘Well, I’m just at the shops, but I’ll finish up right away and meet you at home.’

  ‘I’ll give you a head start. See you there.’

  Sam turned off the phone and put it away. She felt nervy and teary and sick in the stomach. Her little girl . . . God, it sounded so corny to say she was a woman now. Of course she wasn’t. She was still a little girl, but something had shifted.

  Sam raced to the personal aisle and grabbed pads with wings, pads without wings, super, light and every size in between, tampons with an applicator, and others in a groovy purse pack. At the front of the store she took one of every magazine on the stands that had a teenage girl on the cover. Sam looked around, frantic. What else?

  Of course. Chocolate.

  True to Murphy’s Law, she ended up on the slowest possible checkout queue. The woman being served ahead of her seemed mildly irritated that her mobile phone conversation had to be interrupted while she entered her EFTPOS details, and she consequently got them wrong twice. But it wouldn’t have made much difference. The checkout operator must have been from the remedial intake, she was as slow as a wet week. It never ceased to amaze Sam that all they had to do was run an item across a scanner and still they had trouble with it. She’d had a stint as a ‘checkout chick’ when she was still at school, but in her day there was no conveyer belt. You had to bend over one trolley, pick up each item and place it in the next trolley, and you had to key in the prices and work out the change. All that and they were still twice as fast as most of the girls who served her these days.

  She really was starting to sound like her mother.

  Sam had just opened the door at home with her first load of shopping when Jeff’s car pulled up outside. She carried the bags through to the kitchen and came back to the door to greet them. When Sam saw Jess’s face, she knew this was going to be delicate. She was unusually subdued and she didn’t make eye contact. She was obviously embarrassed by the whole thing, so as much as Sam felt like gathering her up and rocking her in her arms like when she was a baby, she contained herself.

  ‘Hi, sweetie,’ she said lightly.

  ‘Hi,’ Jess murmured, walking past her. She continued down the hall to her room.

  Jeff had picked up the rest of the bags out of the open boot.

  ‘Thanks,’ said Sam. ‘Come on through.’

  He followed her into the kitchen and set the bags down on the bench. ‘I won’t keep you,’ he said. ‘I’d better get back to the other two.’

  Sam walked him to the front door. He hesitated, glancing up the hallway, a worried frown creasing his forehead.

  ‘She’ll be alright,’ said Sam. ‘We all have to go through it. One half of the population at least.’

  He sighed. ‘Yeah, but she’s only a kid. How did she grow up so fast?’

  ‘We’ll blink, you realise, and it’ll be Ellie next.’

  ‘Oh don’t say that,’ he winced.

  Sam watched him. There was more feeling in his eyes than she’d possibly ever seen before. He loved his kids. It made her feel close to him.

  ‘Listen, has Josh mentioned a speech he’s doing at school?’

  Jeff shook his head. ‘What speech?’

  ‘He was practising the other day. I told him you’d be a good one to go to for help.’

  Jeff had an odd look on his face, almost bashful.

  ‘But go easy on him. He’s a bit in awe of you.’

  ‘He is?’

  ‘Oh, don’t worry, I pulled you down a peg or three. I told him the wedding speech story.’

  Jeff’s face relaxed into a smile. ‘Well, thanks for that, I think. I’ll see you tomorrow.’

  ‘Give Ellie a kiss for me,’ Sam called after him as he turned to walk up the path. He held up his hand in a wave.

  She closed the door and strolled thoughtfully back out to the kitchen. She didn’t know whether she should leave Jess alone, she might have wanted to come home for that very reason. But Jeff had said on the phone that she wanted her mum. Sam picked up one of the shopping bags and walked up the hall. Jess hadn’t closed the door, she was still unpacking. Sam leaned against the doorjamb.

  ‘How are you feeling, kiddo?’

  Jess shrugged. ‘Alright, I guess.’

  Sam took a breath, stepping into the room. She held out the bag. ‘I bought you these. I didn’t know what you’d prefer, but I suppose you don’t know that yet either.’

  Jess took the bag and looked inside. To Sam’s surprise she grinned, shaking her head.

  ‘What?’ Sam frowned.

  Jess lifted a plastic bag from her overnight bag and handed it to her mother. Sam looked inside, it was full of much the same.

  ‘Oh, did Jodi get these for you?’

  ‘No,’ said Jess. ‘Dad went out this morning and bought them.’

  ‘Your father?’

  ‘I thought he must have bought out the whole shop. But it looks like he left some for you!’ she giggled.

  Sam was relieved to see some animation in Jess’s face, and she smiled. ‘So, he handled it okay, then?’

  ‘Yeah, he was great. I woke up this morning, and I was a bit of a mess. That was the worst part,’ she said, looking embarrassed again. ‘I didn’t know who to tell. Josh’s useless, and Ellie’s too little.’

  Sam cleared her throat. ‘You didn’t think you could talk to Jodi?’

  Jess shook her head, shrugging. ‘She was sick this morning anyway.’

  ‘Oh?’

  ‘Dad said she had a bug. She kept throwing up. Between Jodi and me, he had the washing machine going all morning.’

  Sam tried to conjure up a mental picture of Jeff up to his elbows in bloodied sheets and vomit. It was beyond her realm of comprehension.

  ‘He couldn’t even say “period” on the phone,’ Sam told her.

  Jess giggled. ‘No, he couldn’t talk about it, Mum! He got all nervous and flustered. It was pretty funny.’

  ‘What was Josh doing in the middle of all this?’

  ‘Oh, he took off up the skate park.’

  Sam was not surprised. She looked at Jess. She had a bit of colour back in her cheeks and her eyes were brighter now.

  ‘Well,’ she said, leaving the bag on Jess’s bed, ‘I guess you’ll have enough of these to keep you going till you get married.’

  ‘Like that’s ever going to happen,’ Jess murmured.

  ‘Oh? Why do you say that?’

  She shrugged. ‘I don’t think people who are married are very happy.’

  Sam was a little shocked. It seemed a very jaundiced view of life for such a young girl. At Jess’s age all she could think about was getting married. Not that that was a particularly healthy attitude either, come to think of it.

  She sat down and patted the bed beside her.

  Jessica slumped next to her, with only a fleeting roll of her eyes.

  ‘Your father and I had some happy times, Jess, lots of happy times. It’s just that we were very young when we got together, and people change. They grow up, and they end up wanting different things. That’s why it’s better not to marry too young.’

  Jess was quiet, listening.

  ‘The thing is, and I’m sure I speak for your dad as well, I don’t regret that we got married, or else we wouldn’t have had you or Ellie or Josh.’

  ‘Yes you would. We just would have had a different father. Like if you’d married Hal –’

  ‘Jess!’ she sighed.

  ‘Just say, you know, pret
ending.’

  ‘You mean hypothetically?’

  ‘Whatever. If you married Hal, you still would have had us.’

  ‘No, Jessica Lauren Holmes, you are part of your dad and part of me. You wouldn’t be who you are if I’d married someone else. And Dad wouldn’t be your dad. You wouldn’t want that, would you?’

  ‘Mm, I didn’t think of that.’ Jess traced a pattern on the carpet with her toe. ‘Are you going to get married again, Mum?’

  ‘Not in the foreseeable future, Jess.’

  ‘But ever?’

  ‘Ever is a long time. Besides, someone has to ask, you know.’

  ‘What if Hal asked you?’

  ‘Jessica!’ Sam sighed, shaking her head. ‘Maxine’s been filling your head with these ideas. Hal and I are just friends.’ She couldn’t even say that any more, she realised sadly.

  ‘But what about hypo-thingummy, like you said before?’ Jess persisted. ‘If Hal asked you to marry him, would you?’

  ‘Hal lives on the other side of the world.’

  ‘So?’ said Jess, her eyes shining. ‘Maybe we could move to America!’

  ‘And to think I had trouble getting you to move across Sydney!’ Sam said dubiously. ‘What about your dad? I couldn’t take you so far away from him. When would you get to see him?’

  Jessica sighed heavily. ‘Life’s complicated, isn’t it?’

  ‘Tell me about it. Now,’ Sam said, slapping her knees as she stood up. ‘I bought you some emergency supplies that I bet your father didn’t think of.’

  ‘What else do I need?’

  ‘Chocolate and magazines,’ Sam informed her. ‘And later we’ll bring out the heavy artillery.’

  ‘What’s that?’

  ‘Videos and ice cream.’

  Thursday

  ‘There’s an attachment to this email, Ted,’ said Sam.

  ‘It might be a photograph.’

  ‘I’m afraid I’m not following you, Samantha.’

  Sam was enjoying the chance to get to know Ted’s son through his emails to his father. It was a wonderful, warm relationship. Hugh Dempsey was an art dealer in London and was, by all accounts, enormously successful. He had an English wife, Susan, and a teenage son, Edward, whom he wrote about with a great deal of affection. He also clearly adored his father and still sought and valued his opinion.

  ‘Hugh has sent an attachment with this email,’ Sam explained. ‘Has he ever done that before?’

  ‘I couldn’t tell you, Samantha. I don’t know what it is.’

  ‘In this case it’s a photograph, I’m fairly certain. If you want to send something from a different program on the computer, you have to make it an attachment, that’s opened separately to the email. Problem is,’ Sam murmured, frowning at the screen, ‘this one doesn’t want to open. You don’t have the program on your computer.’

  ‘That’s a problem?’

  ‘I’ll tell you what I can do. I’ll send it to myself and then I’ll print out whatever it is and bring it over next week. Unless you’d like it sooner?’

  Ted smiled at her. ‘I wouldn’t have even known it was there, Samantha, so next week is quite soon enough. That’s if it isn’t any trouble?’

  ‘Not at all!’ Sam assured him. She loved being able to do something extra for Ted.

  ‘You’re a very clever woman, Samantha,’ Ted declared. ‘I think you’re wasting your talents, you know.’

  Sam grinned, shaking her head. He was an easy man to impress. ‘I hate to shatter your illusions, Ted, but my son taught me how to open attachments to emails when he was still in primary school, as I recall. It isn’t very difficult.’

  ‘It’s not just that,’ said Ted. ‘I often think of you, Samantha. Is this really what you want to be doing all of your life? Running around after other people?’

  ‘First of all, I barely run around after you, Ted. I’ve told you before, I enjoy coming here on Thursday afternoons, more than anything.’ Sam paused. ‘As for the rest, well, there’s good and bad like in any job.’

  ‘But will this sustain you as a career, especially as your children get older and move on?’

  She shrugged. ‘I have a few ideas, but I think they’re way out of my league.’

  ‘Such as?’ Ted urged.

  Sam paused. She didn’t know whether she should be saying all this to him. But he had become so much more than a client. More like a kind uncle.

  ‘Well, have you heard of event management, Ted?’

  ‘Certainly I have. It’s a very exciting industry.’

  ‘Mm, but I think it’s really hard to get into. My sister suggested that I tell everyone, even my clients, to get the word around. But I don’t feel comfortable doing that.’

  ‘Why not? I’ve employed many people over the years through personal contacts. It’s very reassuring when you’re taking on new staff if they come recommended.’

  ‘Maybe you’re right,’ Sam mused. ‘Now, we had better finish this email and add some kind of explanation about the attachment. Goodness knows how many others he’s sent you in the past. You’re going to have to fess up that you didn’t see them.’

  ‘You know I’d prefer not to say anything about my condition, Samantha.’

  Sam looked at him directly. ‘That’s not what I meant. You can easily explain that you’d never noticed the attachments before, and that a friend pointed it out to you.’

  ‘Yes, let’s just leave it at that.’

  ‘Though,’ she continued carefully, ‘I still don’t understand why you won’t tell Hugh –’

  ‘Samantha –’

  ‘Don’t “Samantha” me!’ she retorted. ‘I read these emails from your son, begging you to come over and spend time with him and his family. He must be heartbroken that you ignore him.’

  Ted sighed heavily.

  ‘He loves you, Ted. You’re not being honest with him. You’re treating him like a child, still trying to protect him.’

  Ted didn’t say anything for a moment. Sam was worried she had overstepped the mark. But then she noticed he was smiling faintly.

  ‘Of course I want to protect him, Samantha. And I will until the day I die. I’m sure you’ll do the same for your own children.’

  ‘I hope as they grow up that they’ll want me to be honest with them as well.’

  ‘You think it’s that important?’

  ‘Absolutely.’

  Baking Day

  ‘Ellie, you mustn’t pick the cherries out of the mix, dear.’

  ‘But they’re yummy, Nanna.’

  ‘Yes, but it’s unhygienic, and besides, you have to leave some for everyone else.’

  ‘I’ll get you a whole packet of glacé cherries, honey,’ said Sam from across the bench. ‘Or better still, fresh cherries. They’ll be out soon.’

  Ellie clapped her hands.

  ‘That’s the way, Samantha, indulge the child’s every fancy,’ said Bernice. She shook her head. ‘Modern parenting.’

  ‘Yeah, in our day there was no such thing as indulging!’ said Max drily.

  ‘Don’t be smart, Maxine. I didn’t teach you to be so smart.’

  Max and Sam grinned slyly at each other.

  ‘You think I wouldn’t have liked to indulge you?’ Bernice went on. ‘A deserted wife, struggling away on a pension and a series of menial jobs, just to make ends meet? I’m surprised you can afford to spoil the children the way you do.’

  ‘A packet of glacé cherries is hardly going to break the bank, Mum,’ said Sam.

  ‘No, not on its own. But if you say yes to everything they ask for –’

  ‘Mum! Who says I do that?’

  ‘She doesn’t Nanna,’ muttered Jess from where she was slumped at the end of the bench, her chin resting on her hands. Sam realised she should have added conditions to the bribe it took to get Jessica here. Not just that she had to come, but that she had to look like she was enjoying it. But that was hardly fair. Sam wasn’t even enjoying it.

  ‘Mum, I had
an idea about Christmas this year,’ said Sam, changing the subject.

  ‘Oh, what kind of idea?’ said Bernice suspiciously.

  ‘Well, you always go to so much trouble, and you deserve a break, and, well,’ Sam hesitated, ‘I thought we could have Christmas at my place for a change.’

  Jessica sat up straight, suddenly interested. ‘Why on earth would we want to do that?’ said Bernice.

  ‘I thought it might be getting too much for you.’

  ‘It’s not getting too much for me. You’d think I had one foot in the grave the way you’re talking.’

  ‘I didn’t mean it to sound like that, Mum.’

  ‘Mummy, I have to go to the toilet,’ said Ellie.

  ‘Take her, please, Jess.’

  ‘Why do I have to take her?’ Jessica whined. ‘She’s old enough to go by herself.’

  ‘Jess, her hands are all sticky, she’ll have to clean up first.’

  ‘She can wash her hands here –’

  ‘Jessica! Will you please just do as I ask without the twenty questions?’

  Jess knew when her mother meant business. ‘C’mon Ellie,’ she grumbled, sliding off the stool.

  Sam waited till they were out of the room. ‘I didn’t want to talk about this in front of them,’ she resumed. ‘But I don’t know where the kids will be Christmas Day. I haven’t spoken to Jeff about it yet.’

  ‘What difference will that make?’ Bernice frowned.

  ‘I just thought that if they end up with their father this year, at least the house will be full and I might not miss them so much.’

  ‘So, this is all about you, Samantha?’ Bernice sniped. ‘What about everyone else?’

  ‘I think it’s a great idea,’ said Max.

  ‘Well, of course you would. You’d jump in a fire if Samantha suggested it. Never been any different.’ Her expression was scornful. ‘But you do have another sister. There’s Alexandra to consider. She’s coming up from Melbourne this year.’

  ‘I’ll call her,’ said Sam. ‘I don’t think she’d mind where we have Christmas, as long as we’re together. Isn’t that the point?’

  ‘I think she’d want things to be the same as they’ve always been. Why change now?’

  ‘Why not?’ said Max.