An Ideal Wife: A Novel

by Gemma Townley

  I looked at my watch. “Now?”

  “Why not now?” Lawrence said, returning my smile.

  Why not? I thought for a moment. Any moment now, Chester could arrive, discovering my mother and Lawrence. Any second now, Russian Mafia agents could bang on the door, demanding Ivana’s trunk. Any minute, Eric might fail Milton Advertising’s ethical audit on the basis that its acting chief executive abandoned ship in the middle of an interview. And Max was no doubt lying in bed waiting for me to arrive full of apologies, bearing muffins. I knew what I should do. I didn’t have time to sit here and find out about the father I’d never known about.

  Then I looked back at him. “Okay, tell me,” I said. “Tell me everything.”

  Chapter 17

  “RIGHT, THEN.” MY FATHER—it felt weird using the word in relation to me—smiled broadly. “Well, my name is Lawrence, as you know. Lawrence Green. Born just outside London, lived there most of my preadult life. Went to school in Oxfordshire, then on to university in London—the London School of Economics. Got myself a degree in politics and economics, got interested in technology, and stayed on to do a master’s in business studies. And that’s when I met your mother.”

  I looked at her. “You said he was a doctor,” I said accusingly.

  “Did I?” she said rather coyly. “Yes, you’re right.” She turned to my father. “You were a doctor, weren’t you? Training to be one?”

  He raised his eyebrows. “I was planning to do a doctorate.”

  “There, you see?” Mum said.

  She placed some hot mugs of tea down on the table. Giles and Helen took theirs silently; they’d even scraped their chairs back a bit, evidently aware that this was a family thing, that they were here to play supporting roles only. My father winked at Mum; she offered him a faltering smile and joined us at the table.

  “So you were at LSE. Did you two go out for long?” I asked. “Were you serious?”

  He met Mum’s eyes again goofily. “I was serious,” he said.

  Mum opened her mouth, then closed it.

  “Then?” I prompted.

  “Well, then you came along. Or, rather, the prospect of you.” He cleared his throat and took a slug of tea.

  “And?” I persisted.

  “And.” He sighed. Then he looked me in the eye. “I’m not going to lie to you, Jess. It wasn’t what I was expecting. It … it threw me, I don’t mind saying. I wanted to do the right thing, of course I did. But we were having fun, your mother and me. It was never going to be—”

  “You weren’t serious,” I said flatly.

  “Nothing was serious in those days,” he said, shaking his head. “Nothing.”

  I digested this. “So?”

  “So,” my father continued, putting down his mug, “we did the best we could, I guess. But it wasn’t exactly working. I had no money, your mother wasn’t happy living in my tiny room, I couldn’t get any work done … I mean, you were amazing. Truly, utterly amazing. You had the cutest smile, and you used to lie on this cushion looking up at me like … like a little angel. But it was hard. The sleeping. The—”

  “The expectation that I would do everything single-handedly,” Mum chipped in. “That must have been hard for you.”

  My father looked rather uncomfortable. “Look, I’m the first to say I didn’t do a great job. I wanted to. I just … I didn’t know how to. Not back then.”

  I looked at him carefully. “You mean you did it again? You were better the second time?”

  “Yeah,” he said quietly. “I got married. Later. Much later. Had three children. And a dog.”

  “A dog.” I nodded slowly. “You got a dog.”

  He grinned ruefully. “I tell you what, if you think a baby’s a pain in the ass, you try having a puppy. You can’t put a diaper on a puppy. Can’t put a puppy in a playpen. Well, you can try, but they just crap all over it. And the clothes aren’t half as good. Jeez, I tell you, never again. N-E-V-E-R.”

  I nodded, keen to cut him off. I didn’t want to hear about his little domestic idyll, thank you very much. “So. You had me; it wasn’t working out. What happened next?”

  “Sorry,” he said. “You’re right. I always jump around too much when I’m telling a story. Bad habit.”

  He looked at me as though expecting me to say something, but I didn’t. I waited.

  “Right,” he said. “Okay. Well, you know, we tried. We really did. But then one night your mother decided to take off.”

  “I decided to look after the best interests of my child, you mean,” Mum said tersely.

  “She left. Moved in with another guy,” my dad said, a sad expression on his face.

  “And that’s it? You didn’t come looking for us?” I demanded.

  “I tried, I guess. Kind of. But your mother made it clear that she was better off without me, that both of you were. She moved into some swanky apartment and got some other guy to pay for everything. I figured you were better off. To be honest, I was kind of relieved.”

  I digested this for a few seconds. “Relieved,” I said eventually. “Well, thanks for the honesty.” I turned to Mum. “The swanky apartment—that was the rich guy? The one you suckered in? Told him he was the father?”

  Mum looked down at her tea. “Darling, in times of need, we do what we can. Sometimes we have to bend the truth slightly.”

  “Bend it?” I asked incredulously. “You did a 360-degree turn.”

  “I thought we were talking about your father,” Mum said. “Weren’t we?”

  “Hey, that’s pretty much all there is to tell,” he said. “A few months later I got offered a place to do my doctorate in the States and off I went. End of story.”

  “End of story?” I looked at him carefully. “I don’t see how.”

  “You don’t?” He seemed a bit embarrassed. “No, I guess you don’t. Look, I’m not proud of skipping off like that, but I thought it was the right thing to do, you know?”

  I shook my head. “I didn’t mean that. I meant why are you back now? Why aren’t you still in America with your wife and children and dog? What, you were just surfing Facebook, saw Mum’s photograph, and decided to ditch them all?”

  “I, uh … Well, let’s not get bogged down in detail, huh?” he said dismissively. “The point is, I’m here now, and we’re all going to have a great time getting to know one another again. What do you say, Jess?”

  I looked at him for a moment. In my mind’s eye I could already see us all as one big happy family; I could move back in with them and we could go to Disney World together and sit around playing board games and I could forget all about work, Max, and everything else.

  “You’re really my father?” I asked.

  “I really am.”

  “Wow,” I said. “It’s a lot to take in.”

  “So you take it in. I’m going upstairs to make a call. You drink tea, talk with your friends, with your mother, and then we’ll regroup. Huh? How does that sound?”

  “Sounds good,” I said weakly, as he got up and left the kitchen. Giles patted my shoulder in a concerned but ineffective way, and I rounded on my mother as soon as Lawrence was out of earshot.

  “My father?” I asked incredulously. “He’s my father? When were you planning to tell me that?”

  “I was planning to tell you as soon as he got here,” Mum said crossly. “Every time I tried, you said you were too busy to talk.”

  “But … but …” I sputtered, “I would have made time if you’d told me who he was.”

  Mum sighed heavily. “What am I going to do?”

  “What do you mean?” I asked. “Looks like you’ve got it all sorted.”

  “But he thinks we’re getting back together,” Mum said worriedly. “He won’t listen. I keep telling him that Chester’s coming back.”

  “You mean you don’t want to get back together with him?” I asked uncertainly.

  “Of course not!” Mum said. “He turned up out of the blue, and I couldn’t send him away. I
’d given him my address only so he could send me some photographs. And when he turned up, I was flattered, of course. I was still cross with Chester, so I thought frankly it would serve him right. But now Lawrence won’t leave. He keeps talking about being a happy family.”

  I frowned. “You don’t want that?” I asked.

  Mum shook her head, exasperated. “I hardly know the man, darling. I haven’t seen him for a very long time. And we went out for only about a year. Long enough for me to get pregnant, have you, and realize that he wasn’t the right man for either of us.”

  “But I saw you kissing him.”

  “Kissing him? Darling, I haven’t kissed him. Not at all. He’s tried to kiss me, believe me, but I’m getting married to Chester soon. At least, I would be if I had a bit of time to plan the wedding. Having a houseguest is very time-consuming. Particularly one who thinks he isn’t going anywhere.”

  “So what are you going to do?” I asked.

  “I hoped you might tell him to go home,” she said.

  “Me?” I looked at her in horror. “I can’t do that!”

  “Oh, but you can. You’re so much better at that sort of thing than I am,” Mum implored me.

  I looked at her levelly. “I’m not telling anyone anything,” I said. “This is your problem and you need to deal with it. I, on the other hand, have problems of my own.”

  “You do?” Mum sounded unconvinced. “Really?”

  “Really,” I confirmed. “I’ve got a trunk in the car and I need to hide it here.”

  “Hide it?” Mum frowned. “Hide it from whom?”

  “From the Russian Mafia,” Helen said.

  “The Russian Mafia? You’re joking, of course,” Mum said, her eyes widening.

  “Not really.” I shrugged. “They’re definitely Russian; we’re not sure about the Mafia connection as of yet. But we need to put the trunk in the cellar just in case.”

  “Oh, for goodness sake,” Mum grumbled. “Very well. You can put it in the cellar, but only if you promise to talk to your father afterward.”

  “It’s my cellar!” I protested.

  “But I’m living here,” Mum pointed out.

  “Oh, fine,” I sighed. “I’ll talk to him.”

  “Good!” Mum smiled. “Now, where is this trunk? In the car?” I nodded and walked to the front door; as I opened it, the doorbell rang. And then my mouth fell open.

  “Chester,” I gasped. “What the hell are you doing here?”

  Chapter 18

  CHESTER LOOKED AT ME UNCERTAINLY. “Not much of a welcome. Are you going to let me in? Is Esther at home?”

  “I …” I stared at him, at a loss for words. “I thought you were in the States.”

  “I was.” He shrugged. “Decided to come back early. Figured loose ends could stay loose for a bit longer. Esther was right—I didn’t need to stay away that long. So, is she home?”

  I gulped. “You should have called.”

  “I did.” Chester frowned. “Your mother didn’t pick up. Oh, but I got your message when I touched down at Heathrow. Something about the ethical audit not going so well?”

  “Oh yes,” I said, stepping out onto the doorstep with Chester. “Yes, I need to talk to you about the audit. Maybe we could go for a walk?”

  “Or maybe I could come in and see your mother,” Chester said firmly, pushing the door open. Mum appeared behind it.

  “Chester! Darling!” she said, throwing herself at him and wrapping her arms around his neck. “Oh, it’s so lovely to see you.”

  Chester grinned. “Likewise. Now, this is more like the reception I was hoping for! Instead, I get Jess wanting to talk to me about the audit.” He rolled his eyes, and I shot a meaningful look at Mum.

  “Ah, the audit,” she said immediately. “Well, you must talk about it. You must.”

  “No, we mustn’t.” Chester wrinkled his brow. “You always say I talk about work too much, and you’re right. It hit me in New York. I was in this meeting—this really boring meeting—and I suddenly realized that I was never going to get that time back again. You can’t replace it. Once it’s gone … well, it’s gone. And, frankly, I don’t want any more of it wasted on business meetings. I’m going to get a new personal assistant, like you suggested. I’m going to get one who knows how to say no.”

  Mum glowed with pleasure. “Oh, darling, I’m so pleased. And you’re so right.” There was a noise upstairs—footsteps. Lawrence’s footsteps. Mum heard them, too—her face whitened visibly. “But,” she said quickly, “I still think you should talk to Jess. She’s very worried. And she’s my daughter.”

  “So? I’m tired. I’ve just spent two hours in traffic after a long plane ride. What I want is to sit down and get a foot rub. With a glass of whiskey in my hand.”

  “Or,” Mum said, urging him out of the house, “a walk. With Jess.”

  “With Helen,” I said quickly, mouthing “trunk” to Mum, who nodded.

  “With Helen,” she corrected herself. “Fresh air—it’ll do you a world of good, Chester.”

  “Who the hell’s Helen?” Chester asked, confused, as she appeared in the hall at the sound of her name. “And I don’t need fresh air.”

  “After being on a plane? Of course you do,” Mum said firmly, manhandling Helen out onto the doorstep with Chester and me. “They starve you of oxygen. All sorts of bugs circulating. And think of your heart. Sitting down all that time—you could have thrombosis. A clot could be wending its way around your body as we speak. No, Chester, it is of paramount importance that you go for a walk now. With Helen. Jessica’s best friend. Her bridesmaid, if you remember? You need to learn to notice things, Chester. If you’re going to be a good stepfather, you need to bond with Jessica’s friends, so off you go. Out of the house. Away from here. For an hour or so. If you don’t, I shall be very cross.”

  Helen forced a smile. “Hi, Chester. I’m Helen. And I’d really love to go for a walk.”

  Chester looked at her vaguely, then turned back to Mum. “You’ll be very cross?” he asked disbelievingly. “I come back early from the States and you’ll be very cross if I don’t go out right away?”

  “Extremely.” Mum nodded. “I’ll see you later. Good-bye, darling.”

  “I’ll … see you inside in a second, Mum,” I said, pulling the door shut. “So, you guys, the village is that way, if you fancy that, or if you go the other way you’ll come to the river, which is really pretty.”

  “The river or the village,” Chester muttered darkly. “Either your mother’s going mad or I am. Or both of us are. Or maybe it’s you?” He peered at me, and I shrank back.

  “No one’s mad,” I said hesitantly. “Mum’s right—a walk will do you good. Clear the cobwebs away. And Helen’s really nice. She works in television.”

  “She works in television,” Chester repeated. “Well, that makes sense. I feel as if I’ve arrived on the set of The Twilight Zone.”

  “Then you’ll have lots to talk about,” I said weakly. “See you later!”

  I watched as they disappeared down the drive, Chester shaking his head in disbelief and Helen chattering away about … well, I didn’t know what. Didn’t care. The important thing was that they were gone.

  I pushed the door open to find Mum and Giles waiting expectantly for me.

  “Okay,” I said. “We need to get rid of Lawrence. And we need to do something with the trunk.”

  “That blasted trunk,” Mum sighed impatiently. “You do complicate matters, darling. You really shouldn’t have brought it down here.”

  I raised an eyebrow. “I complicate matters? You’re the one with the little love triangle going on, remember?”

  “It is not a love triangle,” Mum said stiffly. “He just turned up—”

  “What’s that about a love triangle?” Lawrence said, coming down the stairs. “It’s lies, all of it.” He winked at me. “So, Jess, have you had some time to think? Are you ready to get to know your old man?”

  “I …�
�� I looked at him uncertainly. “I am,” I said. “But I just have to … talk to my friend first.”

  I grabbed Giles, who looked poised to go somewhere but with no idea where. “Get the trunk out of the car and into the house,” I whispered. “Put it in the cellar—Mum will show you where that is.”

  “Where are you going?” Giles asked, a look of alarm on his face.

  “I’m going to take Dad out of the house,” I said, then realized I wasn’t ready to use that word yet. “Lawrence, I mean.” I turned back to Lawrence and smiled. “You know, maybe you and I should take a walk. Get to know each other.”

  “What a wonderful idea,” Mum said immediately, clapping her hands together. “Yes, you go now.”

  “Right now?” Lawrence asked uncertainly. “It looks like it’s going to rain.”

  We all looked out the hallway window; sure enough, ominous dark-gray clouds were gathering overhead.

  “No, it’s not,” I said briskly. “The clouds are always like that round here. Then they clear up again. It’s nothing to worry about.”

  “You’re sure of that?” Lawrence asked, unconvinced.

  “Absolutely,” I lied. “Shall we?”

  “Okay, then,” Lawrence said, grabbing a coat. I turned back to Mum and pulled her out of earshot.

  “You pack up his stuff,” I told her. “Erase all traces of him. Put his bag in my car—I’ll drop him at the airport on my way back to London.”

  “Oh, darling, thank you. Chester wouldn’t understand, you see.”

  “No, he wouldn’t,” I agreed tersely. “And show Giles where the cellar is—he’s going to get the trunk out of the car.”

  “Are we going, Jess?” my father called from the front door.

  “Coming,” I said brightly, rushing over to him. “Right,” I said, taking his arm and doing a quick mental calculation. Chester and Helen would almost certainly have headed toward the village, I decided; neither particularly liked the countryside, so a river was unlikely to hold much appeal. The village, on the other hand, had shops Helen loved and pubs that might entice Chester with the promise of whiskey. “Let’s head toward the river,” I said firmly. “It’s this way.”