He's My Husband!

by Lindsay Armstrong

  Brett looked down at her, and Nicola stared at the three of them, linked together. It struck her like a flash of lightning that for Chris and Sasha’s sake she could no longer muddle along. If Marietta wanted to come back then at least she wouldn’t have Nicola to climb over. Nor, for that matter, was any flower-power cor anglais player going to get in the way—and, even if she had to personally ram it home to her, neither was Tara.

  The speed with which this flashed through her mind was almost equalled by the inventiveness that followed. ‘Ralph,’ she said, ‘I…uh…would love to show you a bit of Cairns. And I’m sure Brett and Marietta need some time alone with Sasha and Chris—oh, and look, the sun’s trying to come out! Shall we go for a drive?’

  ‘Nicky—

  ‘Nicola—’

  Brett and Marietta spoke together—Marietta in tones of utter surprise, Brett roughly.

  But she smiled at them both. ‘Don’t worry, I’ll take good care of him,’ she said to Marietta, and, squaring her shoulders, turned to Brett. ‘Things can’t go on like this,’ she said very quietly. ‘Please, you two need to talk.’

  Then she took Ralph’s hand and drew him out of the room.

  ‘She didn’t tell me,’ Ralph Metcalfe said dazedly.

  They were having lunch at Palm Cove, beneath a white sail umbrella on a green lawn that led to the beach. The sun had succeeded in coming out, although the day was still on the cool side—for Cairns. Double Island looked to be only a stone’s throw away, across the glittering waters of the cove.

  Nicola had ordered Barramundi fillets in a beer batter and a Caesar salad, while Ralph was eating a very large rump steak. They’d ordered a bottle of wine and Nicola, although she’d felt like pinching herself to think that she should be explaining these things to a complete stranger, had described how her marriage to Brett was only a marriage of convenience.

  ‘What does it all mean?’ He stared at her bewilderedly.

  Nicola paused, then said delicately, ‘How—well do you know her?’

  ‘We’ve…we’ve been together for two weeks. But I’ve worshipped her from afar for a lot longer,’ he said, with no trace of embarrassment. He took a sip of wine. ‘Not that she’ll let me sleep with her, but I can wait I mean, she wouldn’t have suggested coming all this way with her if—well, if it wasn’t going to happen some time.’ But he looked at her wistfully, and uncertainly.

  Nicola touched his hand briefly. ‘That’s what I was afraid of, Ralph. You see, I’m pretty sure I was a…stopgap—while Marietta had to be overseas so much and Brett refused to have that kind of a marriage. And now I’m pretty sure you’re…well, she’s using you to make him jealous. You wouldn’t like that, would you?’

  He took a few moments to think his way through this. ‘No. But why can’t they…? Why all this trauma?’

  ‘Two very strong characters, Ralph,’ Nicola said briskly, then sighed. ‘Love is often not that simple, is it?’

  ‘Don’t tell me,’ he said moodily. ‘For example, can you explain to me why I’m always attracted to older women who very often have husbands or exes or bloody careers?’

  ‘This has happened to you before, Ralph?’ Nicola asked sympathetically.

  ‘It has,’ he said intensely. ‘It keeps happening to me. What do you think she planned to do with me when she got her damned husband back?’ He looked around, as if he’d suddenly realised he’d been dumped on an alien planet.

  Nicola chewed her lip and sent up a fervent little prayer that she’d got this right—otherwise… well, she couldn’t bear to think about it. ‘Perhaps,’ she said slowly, dodging the question, ‘you should try younger women. Although not me,’ she added hastily as his blue eyes rested on her with a suddenly speculative gleam in them. ‘I’m…spoken for. But there must—I mean, you’re such a hunk—there must be millions of…’ she rushed on, and someone tapped her on the shoulder.

  She turned convulsively, expecting Brett or Marietta, but it was Tara.

  She swore audibly and said, ‘Tara, you frightened the life out of me! What are you doing here!’

  ‘If you can come to Palm Cove for lunch on a Sunday, why can’t I?’ Tara said aggressively. ‘But shouldn’t you be home with your family?’ she added venomously. ‘Instead of lunching with strange men—does Brett know about this?’ She eyed Ralph with extreme suspicion.

  As usual, although she looked so militant, Tara was beautifully groomed. She was wearing a pair of denim overalls, with a white voile blouse, and the rich abundance of her dark hair was perfectly styled—perhaps she has a live-in hairdresser, Nicola thought, then was struck dumb for a moment as, out of the corner of her eye, she caught Ralph’s widening blue gaze resting on Tara.

  No, no, don’t do it, Nicola, she cautioned herself. But she did it all the same.

  ‘Tara, I’m sorry—uh—may I introduce you, and would you like to join us? Ralph, this is Tara Wells,’ she said, without waiting for a reply, and right on cue Ralph stood up and smiled his shy, dazzling smile at Tara.

  That was how Nicola came to drive back to Yorkeys Knob on her own, some time later, alternating between bouts of sheer laughter and panicky fright. She’d left Ralph and Tara together at Palm Cove.

  Are some men born to be toy boys? she asked herself. I mean, he seemed so genuine. On the other hand, that was a little quick to be transferring his worshipping, but I suppose I gave him good cause to be on the rebound. And didn’t Tara lap it up! Oh dear, what have I done?

  And such, suddenly, was her overwhelming concern, that instead of driving up the Knob she turned left at the base of the hill and took the road that wound round it towards Half Moon Bay. The Yorkeys Knob Boating Club and Half Moon Bay Marina were at the end of it. There was also a boat ramp and, beside its rock walls, a little crescent of beach directly below the Knob.

  She parked her car in the marina car park and walked across to the beach. There was only a young mother with a little boy of about two on the beach, and he was investigating all the rock pools.

  Nicola sat down on the sand, hugged her knees and stared seaward—although her thoughts were drawn irresistibly upwards. She couldn’t see the house, but if you could have scaled the cliff face of the Knob, it wasn’t that far away. At least, she reflected, with the children around, Brett and Marietta would have to be civilized.

  But the thing that she hadn’t had time to examine in any detail was the way Brett had kissed her. Hungrily, passionately—and differently, she mused. Not like the other night, when I got the feeling he was always standing just a little outside of things, controlling them. She grimaced, and felt herself colour, but forced herself to think on. So, why the difference?

  Because it would be much simpler to stay married to me. The thought slid into her mind. So, might he have been…trying to offer me more than a whole lot of plusses like a checklist? But why simpler for him?

  The answer came with the memory of the client he’d gone to see in the watch-house that morning and what he himself had said—‘Who knows what we’re really like under the surface?’ Did that mean that the intensity of what he still felt for Marietta could also be dangerous? And that was why it was not only simpler but safer to be married to Nicola, who was ideal on every other score but did not arouse that dangerous degree of passion in him?

  She came out of her reverie with a sigh, and with the conviction that she might just have hit the nail on the head. Then she rose slowly, brushed the sand off and decided she had to go home. Only to discover, when she got back to her car, that the curious angle it had acquired was due to a very flat tyre.

  ‘Where have you been—and where’s Ralph?’ Marietta demanded.

  It was dark by now, past seven o’clock, and Nicola was filthy and exhausted. With the aid of a couple of brawny yachting types from the marina her tyre had been changed, but the spare had barely got her out of the car park before subsiding, with a rush of air, to the rim.

  Her helpers had been delighted to be of even more assistance, and the
y’d organised a vehicle to convey her and the tyre to the local garage, which had been almost back on the highway, where it had been deemed unrepairable. So she’d had to buy a new one, and then be conveyed back to have it fitted to the car.

  She glanced at Marietta and Brett. They were seated at the dining room table and there was no sign of the children, but the sound of television was coming from the den. And there were the remains of what looked like a dish of spaghetti bolognese on the table, with a salad and a half-finished bottle of Chianti.

  Marietta had discarded her boots and pulled the velvet ribbon out of her hair, but for once she looked tense and irritable, and a swift glance at Brett revealed a hard, cold line to his mouth.

  ‘I had a puncture,’ Nicola said laconically

  ‘Where? And why the hell didn’t you call me?’ Brett said angrily.

  Nicola stiffened. ‘At the marina, as a matter of fact, and I had plenty of help, thank you.’

  ‘What on earth where you doing at the marina?’ he queried, his eyes grim. ‘Planning to sail to Tibet?’

  Nicola drew a deep breath, but before she could speak Marietta intervened. ‘None of this explains what you’ve done with Ralph,’ she pointed out satirically.

  Nicola cut her extremely confrontational exchange of glances with her husband and switched to his first wife. ‘I’ll tell you what I’ve done with him, Marietta, but before I do so you should be ashamed of yourself. Not only is he an archetypal toy boy, but he’s an awfully long way from home. However, he’s transferred his somewhat transitory affections to Tara Wells.’

  Marietta knocked over her wine glass and Brett stood up. ‘What the devil are you talking about, Nicola?’ he said harshly.

  ‘Did you still want Tara for yourself, Brett?’ Nicola smiled ingenuously. ‘Sorry, but I imagine she might be pretty taken up with Ralph for a while.’

  Brett swore, then strode over to her. ‘Enough of this,’ he said through his teeth. ‘Just tell me in words of one syllable what happened.’

  ‘No problem, Brett,’ Nicola replied, but her eyes were a deep, furious blue. ‘I took Ralph to lunch at Palm Cove. While we were discussing the ludicrous state of affairs in this household, not to mention his unfortunate penchant for falling for older women, who should tap me on the shoulder but Tara? For some reason she seems to haunt me,’ she said with scathing irony.

  ‘So,’ she went on, ‘I introduced them, and before you could say Jiminy Cricket Ralph had got over his trauma at the thought of how you were using him, Marietta, and Tara—well, Tara was just lapping him up,’ she finished with supreme mockery.

  Marietta put her hands to her face. Nicola closed her eyes and prayed again as Marietta made a choking sound—that turned out to be laughter. ‘Nicky,’ she said unsteadily, ‘you didn’t.’

  ‘I did,’ Nicola confirmed, and turned back to Brett. ‘Someone had to do something. But there’s more. I think I’ve served my purpose well and truly now, so I’ll be going on to better things, Brett—and don’t expect me to be here for my birthday. Oh, one last word of wisdom for the two of you. Just think of how much your children love you.’

  He reached for her, but she stepped backwards, and the expression in her eyes was stern, proud and withering. He dropped his hand to his side and she walked away, once again to the seclusion of her bedroom. But this time she locked herself in. And this time she started to pack.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  AT MIDNIGHT, Nicola looked around at the colourful chaos of her room. Her unicorn poster had been unhooked from the wall and she’d packed as many of her clothes as she had suitcase space for—less than half of them. She’d also turned on her bedside radio, so that she would be unable to hear anything that was transpiring beyond the four walls of her room.

  It’s a start, she told herself tiredly. I could never take everything in one go anyway. There are books, music, all the odds and ends one acquires in two years—not to mention the odds and ends one came with in the first place.

  Then her gaze fell on the plans Richard had brought over two nights ago, and the contract, and she sat down on the bed with a sigh.

  Just as well I didn’t get around to signing it, she mused, with her chin in her hands. Apart from the problems of finding a workshop and a kiln, I won’t be in Cairns for a while. Where will I be, though?

  Tibet? Africa? Strange how they seem to have lost their gloss—not that I was enamoured of Tibet in the first place. Europe, then, and the UK? My mother’s family came from…somewhere over there.

  She lay back suddenly, then curled up into a ball and drifted off to sleep.

  When she woke the next morning, she found that someone had cleared the bed, turned her radio off and covered her up with a quilt from the spare bedroom. It was a moment before she remembered that she’d locked her doors.

  She sat up abruptly. The bedroom doors locked on the inside by means of pressing in a button on the handle; they could be unlocked on the outside by a master key—a safeguard against the children locking themselves into their rooms. So far as she knew, she had one on her keyring and so did Brett. Had he…?

  Then she saw that her unicorn poster was back up on the wall—she’d had to stand on a chair to unhook it, and Marietta wouldn’t be tall enough to hook it up again without a chair. Surely she wouldn’t have slept through that—and, anyway, why would Marietta bother?

  Brett, she thought, and rubbed her face. Is he still determined not to let me go? What do I have to do to make him see…?

  But after a shower, and dressing, she discovered that only Ellen and the children were home.

  ‘It is Monday,’ Ellen said reasonably, after Nicola had asked her where everyone was. She was setting out breakfast for Chris and Sasha, both waiting expectantly at the table in the family room.

  ‘I know, but it’s also quite early,’ Nicola objected a bit lamely, and kissed the children good morning.

  ‘Well, don’t forget he had the day off on Friday, and anyway, he said to tell you he has an early court appearance this morning—said you’d know what it was about.’

  ‘Oh, yes,’ Nicola murmured. ‘What about Marietta?’ she mouthed to Ellen, over Chris and Sasha’s heads.

  ‘Haven’t the foggiest,’ Ellen said cheerfully.

  ‘Mummy’s gone to Sydney to see about her new job,’ Sasha said importantly, causing Nicola and Ellen to exchange rueful glances. ‘And Daddy said I could have one more day off school to help you with Chris, because Ellen is only working half a day today, aren’t you?’

  ‘Feel a bit guilty about that, but I’ve got a dentist appointment,’ Ellen said ruefully. ‘Got this nagging toothache that’s beginning to drive me mad. Brett said he was sure you could cope, though. Said he wouldn’t be late home.’

  ‘He…oh, of course,’ Nicola agreed, although what she felt like screaming was, And what else did he have to say? Anything about this being absolute blackmail?

  Then, midway through the afternoon, Brett’s secretary Margaret rang with the news that Brett had been unexpectedly called to Brisbane.

  ‘Brisbane!’ Nicola said incredulously. ‘What on earth for?’

  Margaret explained in great detail. A large corporation that they acted for was suing a competitor over what they considered to be unfair trade practices. The case, set down for hearing in the Supreme Court in Brisbane, had been due to start today but their representative had taken ill—on the floor of the court, would you believe!—and Brett had flown down to step into his shoes.

  ‘How long is he likely to be away?’ Nicola asked faintly.

  ‘It could be a while, Mrs Harcourt,’ Margaret said cautiously. ‘Although there’s always the hope that they’ll settle out of court. But it came up so unexpectedly, he really didn’t have time to turn around. He did ask me to tell you to get Ellen to come and sleep in with you. He was most particular that that should be done—on account of poor young Christian and his broken leg. And if there’s anything I can do…?’

  ‘No. Thank you,
Margaret.’ Nicola put the phone down and rubbed her face, her mind in chaos. Surely he could have sent somebody else? Why not Tara—unless she’d gone AWOL with Ralph? And why hadn’t he rung her himself? Why would he leave Chris at this time? Not that she couldn’t cope, but…

  ‘He’s got such a lot on his plate,’ Ellen said with a click of her tongue when she got back from the dentist. ‘Not to worry. I’ll just ring my sister and tell her to water my plants!’

  ‘Look—I can do it,’ Chris said excitedly, and hopped across the floor on his crutches.

  ‘Your dad will be real proud of you when he gets home,’ Ellen said.

  ‘Where’s he gone?’ Sasha asked.

  Nicola forced herself to concentrate. ‘He’s had to go down to Brisbane for a big trial in the Supreme Court. It’s very important.’

  ‘Will he have to wear a wig and a red coat?’ Chris asked.

  ‘No, that’s the judge, silly,’ Sasha said. ‘I ’spect he’ll be assisting the barrier.’

  ‘The barrister—you are a clever girl, Sash,’ Nicola said admiringly.

  Sasha swelled with pride, then said immediately, ‘But you’re not going anywhere, are you, Nicola?’

  ‘No, darling,’ Nicola heard herself say gaily. ‘You know me.’

  He rang that night, before the children were asleep. Nicola was the last to speak to him as Ellen shooed Sasha and Chris off to bed.

  ‘Sorry about this,’ he said.

  ‘No more than I,’ she answered stiffly. ‘It doesn’t change how I feel.’

  ‘But you’ll stay?’ His voice was clipped and weary-sounding, and she was enough of a lawyer’s daughter and wife to know that taking over a brief at this stage of the proceedings was a mammoth task.

  She sighed. ‘Brett, I have no choice but to stay. You know that.’

  ‘Why don’t you start on your clam fountain?’

  She frowned. ‘I’m not sure I’ll be doing it now.’

  ‘Do it, Nicola,’ he said tiredly. ‘Whatever happens between us, it can only benefit you. Look—’ she heard a bell ring in the background ‘—I have to go now, but I’ll ring every evening about this time. Goodnight.’ And he put the phone down.