Highly Unsuitable Girl

by Carolyn McCrae

  I’ve never been accepted into your family, not really. Not at all really. Every Christmas, every Easter, every family birthday was celebrated and every celebration seemed to have the sole function of making me feel inadequate. Children, the next generation, the Family, it was so important to you all and I couldn’t contribute anything. I always wanted to tell you about my mother, where I came from, why at times I hate being me so much, but you never asked. Not once. If you had I’d have told you all my fears and worries. Maybe you tried. You must have tried. Probably, if I’m honest, a lot of that was my fault.

  Could we have made it with perseverance? Or luck? I doubt it, not with the persistence and the sheer bloody-mindedness of your mother.

  If I don’t leave now it’ll be too late for us both. I’m sure you don’t want a divorce. But it’s inevitable now isn’t it? How am I going to explain to a stranger how difficult the past three years have been and how impossible it is to continue like this when I can’t even make you understand? You don’t see there’s a problem do you?

  I think you’re as scared of change as I am.

  I think I’ll never love anyone else as I’ve loved, and still love, you.

  She turned back to the window and watched the lengthening shadows as she waited for Geoff to get home.

  “Now, Mrs Philips, you say you want to discuss a divorce from your husband. Have you any idea of the grounds?”

  Anya sat in Stuart Benthall’s office trying to overcome the feeling that this boy was far too young to be a solicitor and wondering whether she was making an awful mistake.

  “Oh yes. Adultery.”

  “Your husband has been unfaithful to you?”

  “Of course, but I have no names or any idea who they were. But I’ve been unfaithful to him. I’ve got the details of that. Can’t we use that?”

  “I’m not entirely sure that it works that way round Mrs Philips. You’d have to get him to divorce you.”

  “I don’t think he wants to divorce me, at least he’s never mentioned it.”

  “So we’ll have to find other grounds.”

  “I’m quite happy to be the guilty party.”

  “But then your husband would have to start the proceedings.”

  “I can’t see him doing that.”

  “So,” the young solicitor repeated slowly and with laboured patience, “as I said, we’ll have to work out other grounds. Let me take some details.”

  Anya gave him the details he requested, her name and address, the date of their marriage. “Have you any children?”

  “No. There are no children.” Her tone told the young man that that was not a subject for discussion.

  “Do you still live together, in the same house?”

  “Oh yes.”

  “Are you still, um, do you still, um …” He was obviously so embarrassed she interrupted.

  “You mean do we still sleep together? Oh yes.”

  “So the marriage is, shall we say, on-going?”

  “On that front yes.”

  “May I ask why you want a divorce then?”

  “Several reasons.” Anya answered defiantly. “I can’t stand always having to ask him for money, his family hate me and I really want a fresh start while I’m still young enough.”

  “In my understanding of the law I’m not sure those points are sufficient grounds for divorce.” He replaced his glasses and peered at the paper in front of him. “You married quite young I see?”

  “I was 22, is that young?”

  “Quite. Can you give me some background? How you met, that sort of thing?”

  “We met at university, we got on well together. I had no family. It seemed like a good idea at the time.” She blurted out not sure whether it was explanation, reason or excuse. Realising that she should perhaps show Geoff up in a less positive light she added “He tricked me into saying yes when he proposed.”

  Seeing a look something like relief on the young solicitor’s face she elaborated. “I come from Liverpool, we lived there and I wanted to stay there but he’d already got a job down here when he asked me and he hadn’t told me.” She watched as he wrote careful notes.

  “That’s not much to go on Mrs Philips. You came south and you live in a nice house in a nice area. Many would say you were lucky indeed to have such a secure financial life in these recessionary times. I gather your husband has supported you financially throughout the marriage?”

  “I always wanted to work, I’m well qualified, but all I’ve been allowed to do is some freelance writing. That’s brought in a little money but Geoff says I should keep it for myself. Geoff’s inheritance from his father was enormous so we never had to worry about that sort of thing.”

  “But your husband has a career as well as his family money?”

  “Oh yes. He works with computers and he’s done really well. He’s very clever you know.”

  “So what has been your contribution to the marriage?”

  “That’s a funny question. I look after the house, look after him. What else is a wife who isn’t allowed to have a job supposed to do?”

  “You say you haven’t any children?” The solicitor left the question open.

  “I can’t. I was sterilised as a child.”

  Stuart hid his feelings well. “And your husband knew this?”

  “Geoff has known since the beginning though he doesn’t know why. He didn’t just accept it, he thought it was great because we didn’t have to worry about contraception or anything. He’s never asked why.”

  “So,” He paused and looked carefully through the notes he had taken. “So, you had an intimate relationship before you were married and your husband was fully understanding of your, shall we say, circumstances, yet he married you anyway?”

  “Yes.” There seemed little else to say.

  “That’s unfortunate. Had he not known, had it been new information so to speak, it could have been an acceptable reason for him to bring an action against you.”

  “But I’m sure he won’t. He doesn’t want to divorce me.”

  “We must find something he has done wrong, nothing you have done, or have not been able to do, will help.”

  Anya became more challenging. “I could cite his unreasonable behaviour with his mother. He meets her at least twice a week and I’m never invited to join them. He goes on holiday with her, for Christ’s sake, making sure I don’t go with them. It’s perverted.”

  Stuart was somewhat taken aback by Anya’s sudden vehemence but he was determined to stay professional. “When they go on holiday do you have any indication of…” he paused to find the right words, “any indication of intimacy between them. Such a relationship between mother and son is not unknown but we would need some proof.”

  “Oh no! They don’t sleep together!” Anya grimaced at the thought.

  “But you said they were very close.”

  “Too close for comfort but not in that way.” Stuart was obviously relieved that he didn’t have a case of incest to deal with and concentrated hard on his notes as Anya gave him some background. “Geoff’s father died in an accident the day he was born and ever since that day I think she has been very confused about things. She gave her son the same name as her dead husband. That was really weird. I think, as Geoff has got older, and he does look very like his dad, I think she wishes…” Anya couldn’t finish the sentence. “Anyway she hates me. She has done from the beginning. She always considered me unsuitable for her son. Mind you, no one could ever be good enough for her Geoffrey.”

  “It must have been difficult.” Stuart began to have more sympathy for his client. Up until that point he had put her down as a spoilt rich girl who was bored with her husband and wanted to explore pastures new.

  “It has been.”

  “But you have found… comfort … elsewhere?”

  “Oh yes.” Anya agreed enthusiastically. “Geoff has always encouraged me to have sex with other men. In the early days it turned him on. When we were first married we had
a year or so when we were faithful to each other but since then we’ve had a very open marriage. Sex really isn’t that important is it? It’s just for fun, at least it should be.”

  The young solicitor tried to hide his shock, not so much at the promiscuity she spoke of, but of her willingness to admit to it. “How many partners would you say you have had then?”

  “I have absolutely no idea. Everyone slept around then. Everyone did in the 60s, we just carried on into the 70s.” She felt that was explanation enough.

  “What about your husband? Has he had many partners?”

  “I really don’t know. When we were in Liverpool he was pretty wild but now he doesn’t tell me when or who he’s been with. I never ask.”

  “To divorce him you’d have to name a particular person who has destroyed your marriage. More than a one night stand you understand?”

  “Other than with his mother?” She asked with half a smile.

  “Obviously.” He nearly grinned back.

  “I don’t think there’s been one more important than any other. I leave him to it. As I said, the act of sex isn’t important. It’s a biological thing, nothing to do with how good a relationship is. Why does the law think otherwise?”

  “I really don’t know Mrs Philips.”

  Stuart again checked through his notes. Anya looked around the old fashioned office, the bare floor boards were wide and highly polished, the bookshelves were filled with volumes which all looked the same but had different years on the binding. She had chosen this firm because it was the first in the list in the phone book. The receptionist had said that ‘Mr Benthall is our divorce specialist. We don’t get much call for divorce so he’s not too busy.’ Anya couldn’t help thinking that that wasn’t the sort of information the receptionist should have been giving out.

  “You seem to have had a very free, open and modern marriage Mrs Philips.”

  “I suppose it looks like that, sexually at any rate, but in every other way it has been horribly traditional. Husband goes to work leaving wife at home to do all the housework, plan the meals etcetera. In any time that is left she is allowed to develop her career, but that is not encouraged. Husband comes home in the evening expecting his meal, his slippers warmed and his marital comforts. Wife is dependent for all things on her husband. It’s really very traditional. Have you seen the film Stepford Wives, read the book perhaps? No? Never mind.”

  “I’m not sure I understand what you want me to do. Do you want to divorce your husband using his many extra marital relationships as reason for the irretrievable breakdown? If that is the case I think our main problem is the openness and freeness of your marriage. You say he doesn’t want a divorce in which case he could argue that you agreed, with no pressure whatsoever from him, to have had this openness in your relationship, even before your marriage. I think that might be tricky. You wouldn’t consider leaving him and then suing for divorce on the grounds that you have lived apart for five years?”

  “I’m 26 soon. I need to start my new life now, not when I’m over 30.”

  “Well how do you think you might persuade your husband to divorce you? You’re obviously happy to admit adultery.”

  “I don’t think he will, he really doesn’t seem to think there’s a problem. Why would he want anything to change? Life’s great for him he’s got everything he wants or needs. Perhaps he’s still fighting his mother. She never wanted him to marry me in the first place, perhaps he would think she had won the battle between them if he divorced me. I’ve often wondered why he’s never mentioned it, I’m sure his mother does every week, though maybe she’s torn between wanting to get rid of me and the social stigma of a divorce in the family.”

  “I’m afraid divorce is not the stigma it was a few years ago, Mrs Philips.”

  “But still, in her circles, at the Golf Club, it is probably something not to be taken lightly and she is a dreadful snob.”

  “I think I have understood that from what you have been saying, but divorce is something to be taken as seriously as marriage.”

  “I’m not taking it lightly, Mr Benthall. I just see it as the best option for both of us, the only option really.”

  “If it’s really what you want to do…”

  “It is.”

  “Then I’m afraid we’ll have to get proof of a serious adulterous relationship, one that is far beyond what you have always seen as acceptable, and then sue him for divorce on those grounds. I’m afraid nothing else is likely to succeed, though he’ll be advised to counter the charge and, I should warn you, it could get very messy.”

  “I’ll face that if I have to.”

  “Can you think of anyone who would stand out from the usual casual affaires you both seem to have had and accepted in your marriage?”

  “There’s only Fiona. They go back a long way, she was his girlfriend before we met. Their families have known each other since time began.”

  “Ah, there we may have something.” Stuart sat back in his chair and made an arch with his long fingers.

  Ten minutes later they had their strategy. Anya would issue divorce papers naming Fiona Shepherd. Geoff would undoubtedly object on the grounds that it was untrue and prepare to fight but Kathleen would throw their hands up in horror at the scandal. After some discussion Anya would reluctantly agree to be the guilty party to save Fiona’s good name. Knowing it would never happen, she would provocatively suggest they name Tim. That would serve them all right for treating her so badly for three years.

  That afternoon Anya sat and wrote her diary, spending more time thinking about what she was to write than actually writing.

  Monday 12th January 1976

  Solicitors today. So many things I didn’t say, couldn’t say. He asked why Geoff and I married. I couldn’t say. If I could go back to that morning in the Lakes I would say No and No and No again. I knew it was the wrong thing to do, especially when he told me he had a job, and wanted a house so he could be near his mother. I should have known I could never win in a straight fight between the mountain and Mohammed.

  I couldn’t tell the solicitor why I keep going with other men. I’m annoyed with Geoff. I’m annoyed with me. I’m annoyed with Tim. I really thought Tim & I would get together a lot but we haven’t since his wedding day. He gave up far too easily in the face of Margaret’s obvious trap, she knew exactly what she was doing. Tim, the father, would never play away, let alone leave her. He said he would be my friend, my ally, but he hasn’t been. He just left me to fight them all on my own.

  When I was 16, even when I first went with Geoff, fucking around had seemed so rebellious, so adventurous, so modern, but now all it seems is rather sad and sordid. In the past four years Tim and Margaret had Matthew two years after Maggie. Dave had a boy five months after his wedding and then John’s twins came two months later. All of them. But not me. Geoff never understood what that felt like. If he did he never bothered to make me feel any better about it. But then perhaps I should try to understand a bit more about what he feels about it now, but it’s so difficult to talk. I say he has never asked me why I can’t be like every other bloody woman in the world but then I suppose I’ve never sat him down and made him listen. Well divorce will be the best thing for both of us and then he can get married ‘suitably’ and join the rest of them breeding the next generation of the toffee-nosed middle classes.

  “Do you ever see anything of Fiona?” She asked innocently enough at breakfast the next morning.

  Geoff looked up from his paper. “Fiona? Whatever’s made you think of her?”

  “I thought I saw her in the town last week and wondered what she was up to. Has she ever forgiven you for stealing her virginity?”

  “Probably not.” Geoff made a show of concentrating on his paper.

  “Has she ever forgiven you for dumping her?”

  “I did not dump her. There is, was, nothing to dump.”

  Anya knew when Geoff was hiding something. He was a very bad liar. Perhaps she had accident
ally hit on something that was actually going on. “Is, was?” She asked suspiciously.

  “Anya what’s all this about? You haven’t thought about Fiona for years. Why bring up the subject now. Anyway I’ve got to go.” He folded his paper, stood up, and left without kissing her goodbye.

  “Guilty as charged me lud.” Anya said to his departing back. She thought of all those days he said he was with his mother, that week in the Spring when he had said he had gone to Germany with her. She knew with utter certainty what was going on. Kathleen was throwing them together and he was going through the motions because he could not tell his mother he loved his wife. How naïve she had been.

  She went upstairs to her study, opened her steel box and took out a new exercise book. She wrote Fiona Shepherd, January 1976 on the cover. She was going to follow Fiona and log everything she did for the week, a month, for as long as it took.

  It wasn’t difficult for Anya to find out the bare bones of Fiona’s life. Looking through their Christmas cards, so recently taken down, she found the one signed Bonnie, Richard and Fiona with their address printed ostentatiously in gold italics underneath the traditional seasonal greetings. Fiona was 26 years old yet was unmarried and still lived with her parents. Feeling like a character in a television police drama Anya filled a thermos flask with coffee and, collecting a rug to keep her warm and her notebook to record everything she saw, she set out to follow Fiona.

  She spent every day that week sitting in her car outside the Shepherd’s house or following the red mini through the lanes to the stables where Fiona kept her horses. When Fiona set off to ride around the bridleways and through the woods there was nothing Anya could do but wait in her car. Anya was frustrated as she could have no idea what Fiona was up to on her rides, or who she might be meeting.

  After a week Anya realised there was a pattern to Fiona’s day. Whatever time she left her home she would always set off for her ride within five or ten minutes of 12 o’clock and she always returned to the stables between 2 and 2:30. In Anya’s suspicious mind that meant she was meeting someone for lunch but she had no way of knowing who that someone might be and where an assignation might take place.