The Millionaire's Wife

by Shalini Boland

  Yes! What time?

  Now?

  Give me twenty mins

  I send her a smiley-face emoticon blowing a kiss.

  While I wait for Sian to arrive, I cross the room to examine the rug that Bo has peed on. It’s pretty much ruined – I don’t think even the dry-cleaners will be able to save it. It’s my own fault. Will said I should take Bo outside every couple of hours, and it’s been almost four hours since we were last in the garden.

  ‘Sorry, boy,’ I say, crouching down and rubbing behind his ears. ‘We’re not going out this evening. It’s not safe. But you can pee in here.’ I grab a kitchen roll from the cupboard and tear off a handful of sheets. Then I lay them down by the back door. ‘There. That can be your pee spot for now.’ He starts sniffing around the area and promptly squats next to it. I shift his bottom around so that he poos onto the sheet. Then I praise him. At least this little guy is going some way to taking my mind off things.

  Finally, Sian arrives. I buzz open the gates and as she drives in I watch from the doorway, making sure there’s no one else out there. As soon as her Toyota is through the gates, they close behind her and I release the breath I was holding.

  After she’s come inside and we’ve said our hellos, I introduce Sian to Bo and we coo over him for the next half hour. Finally, Bo gives a yawn and flops down in his bed, exhausted.

  ‘So,’ I say, pouring us a glass of wine. ‘Let’s talk weddings. Have you decided on your favourite venues yet?’

  I’m obviously not hiding my worries well enough as Sian gives me a look.

  ‘What?’ I say, putting the bottle back down and crossing my arms.

  ‘You tell me,’ she says.

  ‘Sian. I have no idea what you’re―’

  ‘Right, missy,’ she says, taking her glass of wine over to the sofa. ‘I want you to tell me why you look like someone’s just pissed in your Chardonnay.’

  ‘What? I’m fine. I―’

  ‘Save it for someone who believes you.’ She runs a hand through her dark blonde hair and gives me a glare that takes me back to our school days. ‘How long have we known each other?’ she asks.

  ‘Uh, I don’t know . . . ages.’

  ‘Eleven years. You’ve been my best friend on-and-off for eleven years, Anna. Now tell me what’s wrong?’

  I join her on the couch, sitting on the opposite corner and pulling my feet up under me. Memories creep in and then spiral away. ‘Have you seen Fin recently?’ I ask. The question falls heavily from my tongue.

  ‘Fin? Why are you asking about him?’ She sets her glass down on the coffee table and leans in, trying to catch my eye. But my gaze slides to the floor, to the pee-stained rug.

  ‘Did you hear what happened?’ I say.

  ‘Something happened to Fin?’

  ‘His wife,’ I say. ‘She died.’ I look up to gauge her reaction.

  ‘Shit.’ She presses her lips together, pauses to digest the information. ‘Was she ill?’

  ‘No, not ill,’ I reply, the image of her pale, dead body flashing up in my mind. ‘She was only twenty-nine.’

  ‘Oh my God, that’s terrible. How’s Fin doing?’

  I shrug. ‘I hoped you might still be in touch.’

  ‘Me?’ Sian’s eyes widen. ‘Why would I be in contact with Fin?’

  ‘I don’t know. I just wondered.’

  She reaches for her glass, takes a sip and leans back. ‘So, what happened to her? How did she die?’

  ‘It was on the news.’ I can’t tell her about the text. ‘They were on holiday. She was killed by a speedboat while she was out there swimming.’

  Sian inhales sharply. ‘That’s horrible. Poor Fin. I suppose it would be weird for you to contact him, what with him being your ex and everything.’

  I swallow and nod. ‘I was wondering . . . maybe if you got in touch. Sent him a text to see how he’s doing?’ I figure Sian might be able to meet up with him. Find out his state of mind. See if he mentions me.

  ‘I don’t think that’s a good idea, Anna. What if he asks for your number? What if he wants to get in contact with you again? He could screw your life up with Will. It’s funny,’ she says, tilting her head. ‘At one time, I was convinced you and Fin would stay together, get married – you two were inseparable for years. Until . . . you know.’

  My stomach tightens as I think back to that terrible time. Anxiety and turbulence compressed into memories.

  ‘And when you went to Sweden,’ Sian continues. ‘I thought that was the last I’d see of you. Thought I’d lost my best friend forever.’ Her eyes narrow. ‘You don’t still have feelings for Fin? Because if you do, Will would be―’

  ‘No! Of course not.’ I shake my head at her suggestion. ‘I love my husband. I’m just concerned about Fin after what happened. But I don’t want to get in touch with him behind Will’s back. It wouldn’t be right. That’s why I wondered if you would do it.’

  She shakes her head. ‘I’m sorry, but no. Only because I care about you. It’s better to let sleeping dogs lie.’ She glances over at Bo in his basket and then gives me a smile.

  I nod. ‘Okay. You’re probably right.’

  ‘I get it,’ Sian says. ‘He was your first love. He was the passion. The drama. Who wouldn’t want to be with him? But Will is so much more than that. He’s strong and safe. He’s . . . reliable. Lovely. You know?’

  I do know. Sian needn’t worry about me. Her warnings are not required. But now I have no other option. I’m going to have to do something that scares the hell out of me. I’m going to have to contact Fin myself.

  Chapter Thirteen

  January 2014

  I stepped off the bus onto the wet pavement, waiting until I was clear of the bus shelter before opening my umbrella. A few pedestrians passed me, eyes down, shoulders hunched against the rain. Cars swished by, their headlamps splashing puddles of light onto the dimly lit street. One in front of the other, my feet propelled me forward. Even though I felt like running in the opposite direction.

  As I walked past Florence road, I thought longingly of our studio flat. Granted, it hadn’t been ideal when we’d lived there, but at least it had been our own private space. However, we hadn’t been able to stump up the rent and so our miserable landlord had kicked us out. We found out recently that we probably could have stayed – that tenants have rights – but it was too late. We were out, and our landlord had changed the locks and re-let the place.

  Now, we were living at Fin’s dad’s, staying in his garden shed, and it was a million times worse than the flat. The shed itself was okay. Being a small space, a single oil-filled heater was enough to heat it up to a decent temperature. We had an air mattress and piles of bedding that doubled up as our sofa. And we’d also bought a second-hand mini fridge and a microwave from Gumtree. It was a bit like camping.

  The bad part was Fin’s dad, Col. Any time we needed the bathroom, we had to go into his small terraced council house. The lounge sat at the back of the house and was where Col and his mates hung out smoking weed, talking crap and watching movies all day and most of the night. And every time I walked past, they made some sexist or lewd comment. I hated it. So did Fin. But he wouldn’t stand up to his dad. Maybe he was scared of him.

  That wasn’t the only problem. More and more these past few months, Fin had been saying things that unsettled me. Wanting us to come up with plans about how to make money. He wanted a big fix, a big score. He talked about get-rich-quick schemes, going beyond the law and doing things that were . . . well . . . crazy.

  I went along with his conversations because these were pretty much the only times he seemed happy. But when I sensed he wanted to take things further, to act on his plans, I would laugh it off to let him know I wasn’t taking him seriously. Then he would scowl and go in on himself, giving me the silent treatment. I would have to coax him back with fun memories or by asking him about surfing. It was exhausting.

  But, as if that wasn’t bad enough, I had now discovered som
ething else. Something that would change our lives completely. I had to somehow find the right words to tell Fin. But how would he react? Closer and closer I drew to our new home. If the weather hadn’t been so awful, I would have walked around the block a few times. Anything to delay the inevitable. But the sooner I told him, the sooner we could deal with it.

  As I turned into our road, the rain grew heavier, slicing through the air at an angle, making my umbrella almost redundant. Moisture-laden air invaded my lungs, making it hard to breathe. Water clung to my eyelashes, stinging my eyes, blurring my vision. A guy riding a push bike headed towards me on the pavement, head down, tyres hissing, no lights. I had to sidestep into the rain-filled gutter to get out of his way. Good job no cars were coming. I should have shouted something rude at him, but I had no stomach for a confrontation with a stranger. I would need all my emotional energy for Fin.

  Too soon, I reached the run-down row of terraces which I now called home. The most dilapidated of the lot, the third from the end, was Col’s place. Now also our place. Reluctantly, I pushed at the rusted side gate and walked down the path which led to the long, narrow back garden, overgrown with weeds and strewn with rubbish. Harsh yellow light glowed from the dirty window of the block-built shed at the far end. Fin was home.

  My heart rate sped up as I picked my way along the path. I lowered my umbrella, shook it out and pushed open the door. Moist, warm air hit me. Fin glanced up from his phone and smiled.

  ‘Hey.’

  ‘Hi.’ I closed the door behind me, took off my coat and slipped out of my shoes. The rain drummed down onto the felt roof. Even so, the air was calm and still inside. The eye of the storm.

  ‘Good day?’ Fin asked.

  ‘Manic. Loads of lessons on at the pool today, and we had a concussion. Little boy slipped on the side.’

  ‘Was he okay?’

  ‘Hard to tell. Hopefully. He wasn’t dizzy or vomiting, but he did knock himself out for a few seconds. How about you? Was the shop okay?’

  Fin shrugged and pursed his lips.

  I came and sat on the bed next to him, winding my arms around him. He pulled me closer and crushed my mouth with his lips. I tasted salt and desperation as he tugged at my clothes and slipped his hands beneath them.

  ‘Wait,’ I said, the swirl of an unspoken conversation in my head.

  ‘Anna,’ he panted, his mouth moving from my lips to my neck, his fingers tangling in my soaking hair. I twined my legs around him and moulded my body to his. We desperately needed to talk, but maybe we needed this more.

  Afterwards, we lay on the bed, warm and wet. Happier than before. But I couldn’t delay any longer.

  ‘Fin.’

  ‘Yeah?’ He propped himself up on one elbow and turned to face me, his eyes more green than brown today, his surfer’s shoulders broad and strong.

  I trailed a forefinger over his bicep, then took my hand away, smoothing away an imaginary lock of hair from my face. My voice caught in my throat, but I made myself force the words out. ‘I’ve got something to tell you.’ Excitement and fear vied for space in my head. ‘I . . . I’m pregnant.’

  The damp air ballooned with silence. Fin’s eyes bored into mine, then his gaze slid to the wall.

  ‘Fin?’

  He muttered something but I couldn’t make out the words. I stared at him trying to work out his reaction, trying to catch his eye again, but his face was a mask, closed off to me. He had always talked about us having a family in the future, but now that it was real, what did he really think?

  ‘Are you okay?’ I asked. ‘I know it’s a shock. I only found out myself today. Can’t quite get my head around it. I took a test at work.’

  ‘Fuck, Anna.’ His fingers splayed open and he locked his hands behind his head. ‘I thought you were on the pill.’

  ‘I am. I am on the pill.’

  ‘So how did this happen? Fuck!’ He turned, lowered his arms, and his fist shot out. He’d punched the wall.

  I gave a yelp, the sound of my heartbeats drowning out the rain.

  ‘This can’t be happening,’ he muttered, pulling on his jeans and rising to his feet. Blood smeared the grey blockwork and dripped from his knuckles onto the makeshift bed.

  ‘It’s okay. It’ll be okay,’ I said. My voice sounded thin and far away like it was coming from a radio in a distant room.

  ‘How?’ Fin sneered. ‘How will it be okay? We live in a garden fucking shed. We’ve got no money. We’ve got nothing. There’s no part of this that is okay.’

  ‘I was thinking . . . maybe we’ll be eligible for something . . . from the government? Some kind of benefits or something.’

  ‘No!’ Fin swung his head from left to right like a cornered animal looking for an escape. ‘I won’t end up like my loser dad. On benefits, pissing away my life. No.’ He turned to me. ‘You’ll have to get an abortion.’

  I felt like I’d been slapped. He didn’t even want to talk about this. He didn’t even want to consider our options. ‘Just like that?’ I replied. ‘Get an abortion? God, Fin.’ I hugged my arms around my body, trying not to cry. ‘I’m always so careful to say the right thing to you, to make sure you’re okay. I always think about how my words affect you. But you – you just tell me to get an abortion. You don’t even ask me how I’m feeling.’

  He shook his head and looked over at me. ‘I’m sorry, Anna. I know I should’ve asked how you were, how you are, but, God, you’ve got to realise we can’t have a baby. Not the way things are. Here.’

  ‘Maybe we can, maybe we can’t, but let’s at least talk about it. Do you even care how I’m feeling? I’ve got a new life growing in my body.’ The room was closing in like the walls were about to crush me.

  ‘You can’t think of it that way,’ he said, his jaw clenching. ‘We didn’t plan this. We don’t have to let it ruin our lives.’

  ‘Screw you, Fin.’ I choked out the words and started pulling my clothes back on.

  ‘Where are you going, Anna? We need to decide what we’re going to do.’

  ‘Sounds like you’ve already decided.’ I grabbed my coat and bag, slipped on my wet shoes and reached to open the door.

  ‘Anna, wait.’

  My hands shook and my chest tightened as I pulled open the door and walked back out into the foul night. I gave a sob as I lurched down the garden path. Briefly, I turned to see if Fin was coming after me, but I could see him through the window, rooted to the spot, his hand pulling at his hair. I hadn’t closed the shed door properly, and it banged in the wind, in danger of coming off its hinges.

  There was only one place I could go now. One person I could talk to.

  ~

  I arrived at Sian’s parents’ house, a dripping, freezing, shaky mess, a blur of emotions numbing my brain. Sian ushered me in, gave me warm towels and a change of clothes, and placed a steaming cup of tea in my hands.

  We sat in her room like old times. I curled up at the foot of her bed while Sian leant back against her pale pink velour headboard. She gave off such an aura of calm, I realised this was the first time I’d felt safe for months. Haltingly, I told her about my predicament. About my living accommodation, our lack of funds, and, finally, about my newly acquired pregnancy and Fin’s reaction to it.

  Once I’d finished, Sian exhaled slowly. ‘So, what are you going to do?’ Her grey eyes filled with concern.

  I blinked and pressed my lips together, desperately trying not to cry.

  ‘Do you still love Fin?’ she asked, taking my hand.

  I nodded.

  ‘Do you want to have this baby?’

  ‘I . . . I don’t know. I think so. The thought of getting rid of it is so . . .’

  ‘I know, I know,’ she soothed.

  ‘But . . . how can we have it? We can’t even look after ourselves. We’ve lost our flat, we’re always working, we never have any fun. A baby would make things even worse, wouldn’t it?’

  ‘Look, Anna, to be honest, I don’t know what you should do.
But you don’t have to decide right away, do you? How far gone are you?’

  ‘I’m not totally sure. Maybe about two or three months.’

  Sian picked up her phone and started tapping and scrolling. ‘Latest you can have a termination is twenty-four weeks. So don’t worry. You’ve got time to decide.’

  ‘Thank you.’ My voice cracked and she laid down her phone and opened her arms. I let her hug me as I cried into her work uniform. ‘Sorry.’

  ‘Shut up, you silly moo. There’s nothing to apologise for. You’re my friend, aren’t you?’

  I nodded and gave her a last squeeze before breaking away, and sitting crossed legged on the bed.

  ‘Now, are you going to go back to the dreaded shed tonight?’ she asked. ‘Or do you want me to roll out the camp bed? Midnight feast, anyone?’

  I giggled. ‘Can I really stay over? Won’t your mum and dad mind?’

  ‘Course not. They love you, Anna. You know that.’

  ‘It’s just, Fin was so horrible. I can’t believe he just told me to get an abortion. Didn’t ask me how I was feeling or anything.’

  ‘He’s in shock. God, he’s twenty-two and you basically told him he’s going to be a dad. Even if you were loaded and living in a lovely place, he’d still be freaking out. Give him time to get his head around it.’

  ‘Do you think he will? Get his head around it, I mean. Because even I haven’t got my head around it.’

  ‘Hmm. Fin is a bit of a free spirit. But, he loves you, right?’

  I nodded. ‘Yeah.’ Fin always said he wanted us to have kids. I knew the timing was a bit off, but surely he’d come around.

  ‘Don’t worry, Anna. He’ll stand by you. He’d be mad to let you go.’

  Sian’s words comforted me like a warm bath. I allowed myself to believe her. Let her soothe and pamper me, too exhausted to consider the alternative.

  Chapter Fourteen

  2017

  I finally arrive at this out-of-the-way garden centre in North Dorset, and manage to find a parking space at the end of a row. My Land Rover is way too big for most spaces, but it was a present from Will and I do love it. Fin and I have arranged to meet this afternoon in the garden-centre café. I didn’t want us to meet in Bournemouth in case we ran into anyone we knew. And I refused to go to his house. This is neutral ground. Plus, I can leave whenever I choose.