The Wife's Choice: An emotional and totally unputdownable family drama

by Emma Davies

  I shake my head, flustered. ‘Changed my mind about what?’

  ‘Oh, come on, don’t act so innocent, not when you’ve just given your little speech. The redundancy of course. You can’t have it both ways, Alys. Either you want to go, or you don’t.’

  ‘But I don’t want to go… I had no idea I was even being considered for it.’ I’m trying to recall the conversation Hugh and I had at the kitchen sink. And as far as I can remember I’ve never really discussed the redundancies with him, other than offering sympathy when I heard that he was having to consider it. But that was purely in my role as a supportive wife, not as an employee.

  ‘And I’m expected to believe that, am I? Just like we’re all led to believe that you don’t get special treatment because your husband’s the boss. That’s a little hard to take seriously when you somehow get your wish, even though there weren’t any voluntary redundancies being offered, and walk away with a very tidy lump sum. No, no special treatment at all.’

  ‘No, it’s not like that, I…’

  I feel physically sick, struggling to make sense of her words. Because everything she’s just described doesn’t fit with the way things have happened at all. If they did, then that would mean… My thoughts come to a sudden stop. And in their absence a wave of embarrassment rolls over me. I’ve been made a laughing stock. Worse, I’ve been manipulated and humiliated. It’s all I can do to remain standing and not run for the staff room.

  I stare at her a few seconds more before turning and walking away, leaving her with her mouth hanging open in shock. She’s clearly just worked out that I genuinely had no idea what she was talking about and, if anything, that makes it worse. Now I have her pity too. I dump the bolts of fabric I’m holding before taking down another from the display and proceeding to measure out and cut a length of it. I take it back over to where she’s standing.

  ‘I’d like to purchase this with my staff discount please,’ I say, handing her the material I need to make Tash’s dress. ‘And then I’m going home. I’m sorry, Hilary, but I’m not feeling at all well.’

  Her eyes narrow suspiciously. ‘Really, what’s the matter with you?’

  ‘I… I probably shouldn’t have come in actually. I haven’t felt right since I got up this morning,’ I reply, thinking on my feet. ‘Perhaps that’s what’s made me… testy,’ I reply. ‘Sorry.’

  I’m not even sure why I’m apologising when it’s me who has been made to feel bad.

  ‘But what about the department?’

  ‘I thought you said Elaine was coming in?’ I reply. ‘With the two of you I’m sure you’ll manage. It hasn’t been that busy, after all.’

  ‘Oh, for goodness’ sake,’ she splutters. ‘You can’t go, not just like that.’ I look at her face, see everything she thinks of me reflected in her eyes, and know exactly who I have to thank for it.

  I grit my teeth. No one else is going to stand up for me. ‘Maybe I shouldn’t,’ I reply. ‘But I’m going anyway.’

  I don’t go straight home. I don’t think I can face having to stare what I’ve just done square in the face. I’m not sure who I’m most angry with – Hugh for letting people think that I wanted this redundancy, in fact that I might have even asked for it, or me for being so pathetic as to stay there in the first place. Instead, I wander through the outdoor market, marvelling as I always do at the variety of wonderful smells from the street-food vendors. It’s something I usually enjoy, the bustle of folk going about their days, the bright-coloured canopies of the stalls lifting my spirits. Today, though, I feel so far removed from it all that instead I trace the streets to walk along the river.

  I swing the bag I’m carrying onto my other shoulder. A couple of books, a water bottle, some papers, my lunchbox and some pens; all the contents of my locker. Not much to show for over two decades of work. Because I’m not going back. How can I? And Hugh will get his wish, after all. The stupid thing is he almost certainly thinks he’s done me a favour. I’m furious with him, but it won’t have been done deliberately, just without thought. Careless.

  I come to rest on one of the bridges, pausing for a moment to feel the warm summer sun on my face. A soft breeze ripples the water beneath me as I gaze down at it, my distorted reflection staring back at me. The image is hazy, much like I’ve become. Not overweight exactly, but a little softer in places than I’d like. Ill-defined. A wife. A mother. But what else? I don’t even have a job now.

  And the money didn’t even occur to me. How disgraceful is that? When other people have to count every penny. And yet I can lose my job and not even consider it a problem, not really. There was a settlement statement with my redundancy notice, but I scarcely glanced at it before shoving the letter back into its envelope, eyes widening as I took in the amount of money. So am I guilty of complacency? Or did I know, all those years ago, that my marriage to Hugh was a safe bet? I turn my thoughts aside and carry on walking. Don’t go there, Alys.

  My mobile goes off just as I’m climbing into my car, but I don’t need to look at it to know who it’s from. Hilary would have wasted no time in raising a hue and cry once I’d left, but I don’t want to talk to my husband just now. So I ignore it and drive home. I can use the extra time I’ve suddenly found to make a start on Tash’s dress. Which is exactly what Hugh finds me doing a few hours later.

  I’m bent over the kitchen table with a mouthful of pins when he arrives, cutting out the pattern from the fabric I bought this morning. He eyes me a little warily. No doubt noticing that I’ve made no comment about his early return from work.

  ‘What are you making?’ he asks, frowning a little.

  ‘A dress, for Scarlett’s engagement party.’

  He peers a little closer. ‘Oh, well done. Yes, it’s probably time to have something new.’

  I turn over the piece of fabric I’ve been cutting so that he can see it better, running my hand along its silky length. ‘Isn’t it beautiful?’

  He studies it for a second before flicking his eyes to my face and back down again. Classic Hugh.

  ‘What?’

  ‘Nothing… it’s just a slightly unusual choice of material.’

  I cock my head. ‘Hmm, I just fancied something a bit different. Don’t you like it?’

  ‘No, I do… I just wonder if it isn’t a little… gaudy.’

  ‘Gaudy?’ I stroke the material again. ‘Oh… not romantic, or feminine even? That’s what I was hoping for.’

  ‘Maybe gaudy’s not the right word… perhaps frivolous might be better, or…’ Hugh stops. ‘Oh dear, I’m not making this any better, am I? I really like it, Alys, it’s just that I prefer you in slightly plainer things. I think they suit you better.’

  I bite my lip. ‘Oh. Well, maybe you’re right, especially about the frivolous bit. Even with my staff discount it was pretty expensive. It’s silk, you see.’ I sigh.

  ‘Is it?’

  ‘Although of course, a dress like this in the shops would easily cost four times as much,’ I add hastily.

  ‘It will look lovely, I’m sure.’ Hugh smiles. ‘And you deserve to have something new.’ He turns away, having settled the matter, and loosens his tie, dumping his bag on the side. ‘Anyway, how are you feeling?’ he asks. ‘A bit better perhaps? I had a message to say you weren’t well.’

  I look up. ‘And who would that have been from, I wonder?’

  ‘I don’t actually know,’ he says carefully, catching the change in my tone. ‘Monica took the message.’

  That would be Monica, his secretary, who is good friends with Hilary. ‘I see,’ I reply. ‘And did you speak to her?’

  ‘Monica?’

  ‘Hugh, stop being obtuse. You know perfectly well I mean Hilary.’

  ‘I didn’t, no,’ he admits. ‘She was busy on the shop floor, but I did get the gist of what happened.’

  ‘Did you? And while she was explaining that to you, did she also tell you what she told me? That I’d been made redundant because I asked to be? That’s what s
he’d heard – that despite the fact that there were no voluntary redundancies on offer, I somehow got my way, bagging myself a nice lump sum into the bargain. Although, of course, it had nothing to do with the fact that I’m married to you.’

  I raise my head to glare at him. ‘I’ve never been so humiliated, Hugh. They’re all sneering at me behind my back – which is bad enough – but what I want to know is why they thought I’d asked to be made redundant in the first place? It had to come from somewhere.’

  Hugh raises both hands. ‘Well, don’t look at me. Why would I say something like that? Besides, what you’re suggesting wouldn’t be the slightest bit ethical.’

  ‘No, it wouldn’t, would it? It would also be a lie. But it does make me wonder whether certain conversations you’ve had haven’t turned out to be quite as confidential as you’d like. You are aware, I suppose, that Monica and Hilary are good friends?’

  ‘For Chrissakes, Alys, I know you’re cross about all of this, but you can’t go around accusing Monica of having a big mouth.’

  ‘I’m not just accusing her of having a big mouth, Hugh. I’m accusing you of repeating things I’m supposed to have said that I have simply haven’t. Those ideas had to come from somewhere and how else would Monica have been able to pass on the juicy details?’

  Hugh glares at me. ‘Oh, that’s just ridiculous! What on earth’s got into you, Alys? This is nothing more than silly tittle-tattle; gossip spread by jealous employees.’

  ‘It might be,’ I agree. ‘Although I’m not sure what they’ve got to be jealous of, Hugh. Because I certainly don’t receive any other benefits at Harringtons for being married to you. Quite the opposite, in fact.’

  He’s watching me closely. ‘So you don’t actually feel unwell then?’

  I hold his look. ‘Other than a severe case of humiliation, no, I’m perfectly fine.’

  He strides around the kitchen, jaw working, as he searches for what to say. ‘Alys, you can’t just walk out of your job… if that’s what you’ve done. How do you think that looks? This could be extremely embarrassing for me.’

  ‘Hugh, I don’t care how it looks. I’ve been at Harringtons all my working life and, despite being careful and never raising my head above the parapet because I’m married to the boss, I finally understand that it’s done me no good at all. So, yes, I think I have just walked out of my job. And, as you’ve managed to fix everything else, you can surely fix this. I don’t care what you tell them, Hugh, but I shall be taking the remainder of my notice period as sick leave. Invent some hideous disease. Tell HR I’m suffering from stress, or that I’ve broken my leg in four places and the bones are being held in place with pins, I really don’t care.’

  I grind to a halt, trying to catch my breath. ‘And that’s another thing. This is just so typical of you. You’re far more worried about how this is going to go down at work than the fact that I’m furious with you over things you’ve clearly said. Things you haven’t denied, I notice.’

  The seconds tick by.

  ‘I don’t need to deny them, Alys,’ says Hugh quietly. ‘Because I know they’re not true. Just as I know that I would never do anything to hurt you. Now I don’t know what’s got into you today, but perhaps you aren’t feeling well because you’re certainly not your usual self. That being the case I’ll overlook your hurtful comments, but you might want to think about what you’ve said.’

  Hugh’s voice is calm and reasoned. It’s impossible to have an argument with him, he just refuses to get riled. It infuriates me, but it also leaves me with nowhere to go.

  My shoulders sag. ‘Maybe it’s just a midlife crisis.’

  ‘Isn’t it me who’s supposed to have one of those?’

  I glare at him.

  ‘Sorry, I wasn’t trying to make light of it. What were you going to say?’

  ‘I don’t know,’ I reply, shrugging. ‘Except perhaps that it was seeing Esme this morning. She was nervous, yet so confident at the same time. And happy – on the threshold of a new and exciting part of her life. It made me realise how much she’s growing up. That she isn’t going to need me any more, and I’m wondering where that leaves me. No job, my role as a mum if not diminishing then at least undergoing massive change. Where did my life go, Hugh? Esme is just starting to live her dreams, but when did I live mine?’

  He doesn’t know what to say. Because he knows I’m right, and somehow that makes it worse. He regards me for a moment, obviously still smarting from my comments, and I’m sure he knows he should probably offer up some comfort. But he doesn’t. Instead he paces back across the kitchen once more, a distracted look on his face.

  ‘Yes, well, let’s hope Esme’s dream turns out to be just that and doesn’t suddenly become a nightmare.’

  ‘Oh, for heaven’s sake, Hugh, why on earth would it do that?’ I narrow my eyes. ‘I see. You’ve got something to say about that too as well, haven’t you? Tash mentioned that you’d been talking to Ed about The Green Room when she was here yesterday. So, what is it you don’t like? I can’t see how you can possibly have an opinion on it yet when Esme has only just started there. Or why everything has to be a problem.’

  He rolls his eyes. ‘I’m not saying it is. But forewarned is forearmed and it doesn’t hurt to check these things out. I mean, what do we really know about these people? Beyond all the glitzy stuff we’ve seen in the papers. Nothing. And yet we’re allowing our daughter into their care and—’

  ‘We’re not allowing her, Hugh. Esme has made the decision herself, something she’s perfectly capable of doing. And it is her decision. You know, maybe it’s you who’s having the midlife crisis, after all. You just can’t let her grow up, can you? I hate it too, the feeling that she’s slipping away from us, but at least I try to let her have her wings, instead of clipping them.’

  And for the first time I see anger flicking in Hugh’s eyes. ‘That’s wholly unfair, Alys, and you know it. I only want the best for her and if that means checking out a few things, then so be it. I’m not meddling or interfering in her decision at all but she is still living under our roof and, as her father, I think it’s only prudent to have a broader picture of her employer. Just as we did with her schooling, college and the university she went to. In fact, all the important things in her life, and that was simply to ensure her happiness. So please don’t suggest I’m doing anything untoward here. Besides, you might be interested to hear what I’ve found out.’

  ‘And what’s that supposed to mean?’ I hate myself for asking. I’ve taken the bait, yet again.

  ‘Only that we’ve all seen photos of the owner, that rather garish woman with the ridiculous haircut, heard all about her business acumen and vision for the company, but did you know that there’s a Mr Green Room too? And he’s an altogether different kettle of fish.’

  ‘Go on…’ I intone.

  ‘Reclusive on the one hand, shuns publicity, and yet when he is around, he’s moody, aggressive, physically violent at times too. One of their former staff members gave an exposé last year, detailing how awful it was to work there.’

  ‘Oh, honestly. It sounds like sour grapes to me – a disgruntled employee who thought he or she would cash in on The Green Room’s popularity with a kiss-and-tell story. Hardly original. Besides, as far as I’m aware, the only people running this new venture are Nancy, the woman you think is garish, and her son. No mention has been made of anyone else.’

  ‘Let’s hope that’s the case then because this man doesn’t sound like someone we should be encouraging Esme to mix with.’

  A noise sounds from the conservatory behind me. It’s open to the garden against the heat of the day and standing there is Esme, an extraordinarily good-looking young man beside her.

  There’s a moment of agonised silence before the man’s face splits into a wide grin.

  ‘I’m Theo, it’s lovely to meet you,’ he says, stepping forward, his hand outstretched. ‘And you’re quite right. I think my dad’s a complete arse too.’
/>   5

  If ever there was a time I wanted the ground to swallow me up, this is it. But Theo, to his enormous credit, keeps a smile on his face, seemingly unperturbed by Hugh’s comment.

  ‘Just dropping Esme home as promised,’ he says, turning to her. ‘We’ve had such a great day, haven’t we?’

  Esme manages to nod, but her face is scarlet and you don’t have to be a genius to work out how she’s feeling.

  ‘That’s incredibly kind, Theo, thank you,’ I say. ‘I’m Alys, by the way. And this is my husband, Hugh. Would you like to come in for a drink? Something cool, or…’ But he’s already shaking his head.

  ‘Could I make it another time?’ he says easily. ‘Only I’m just on my way to meet a supplier for dinner and had better not be late.’ He smiles again. ‘Are you okay for transport in the morning, Esme? I can swing by this way and pick you up if necessary.’

  Esme’s expression is clear. I reply on her behalf, ‘No, I can’t let you do that. It’s really no problem for me to drop her off. But thank you, Theo, it’s very kind of you to offer.’

  He looks almost as if he’s about to bow and, with one final glance at Esme, still smiling, he holds up a hand in farewell. ‘See you tomorrow,’ he says, and then he’s gone, retracing his steps out of the conservatory and back down the garden path with a jaunty gait as if he hasn’t a care in the world.

  No one says a word, conscious that, this time, Theo needs to be out of earshot before anyone speaks.

  ‘What a charming young man,’ I say, brightly. ‘And good-looking too.’ With his long dark hair tied up in a bun and neat beard, there is something very appealing about him.

  ‘Yes,’ replies Esme. ‘He is.’ She stares at Hugh, challenging him to contradict her. ‘In fact, he’s so nice he was determined to come in to say hello and introduce himself just now. He didn’t have to, he could have just dropped me outside and driven off. And given what he heard when he arrived, I rather wish he had. But there you go, Dad, always thinking the worst, trying to invent a problem where there is none. Except that today I’m not going to let you spoil things for me, not when the rest of it has been so brilliant.’