So do you have children then?
It seemed like people were obsessed with that question as a conversation starter, yet totally incapable of coping with the ‘wrong’ answer. My curt reply in the negative inevitably resulted in an uncomfortable silence and a patronisingly sympathetic expression, which fuelled my irritation even further.
Most of the time I managed to convince myself that it was not what I wanted either, but periodically the subject would bubble back to the surface, resulting in the inevitable argument. Daniel was resolute in his stance on the matter. His way of dealing with it was usually to shout, storm off and then come up with a distraction. Hence the puppy, the horse, the car and some extravagant holidays abroad.
Of course, I loved being spoilt and I loved the presents, but I was always left with a gnawing feeling that I was somehow selling my soul to the highest bidder and giving up on my own hopes and dreams. There was a time when I thought about just going ahead and getting pregnant against his wishes, but somehow that didn’t seem right either. For me, it was about more than simply having a child. It was about us being a proper family and, old-fashioned and naïve as I perhaps was, in my eyes, it had to be something we both wanted.
I remembered the heated words of the previous evening and looked at my shiny new car.
The trade-off. He had done it again.
Daniel looked pleased with himself as we sat at the dinner table and the waiter poured us a glass of the Laurent Perrier that had been ordered.
‘How do you fancy ten days holiday with all the beautiful people in St Barths?’ he asked, knowing how much I loved the place.
‘What? That’s a bit out of the blue, isn’t it? Of course I’d love to go back there. It’s just.…’ I hesitated, remembering a heated exchange about money the previous week.
‘I thought you said there were some problems with the business at the moment. The customer that’s threatening to sue you? Are you sure we can afford to go right now?’
I looked at him for reassurance. I worried about the money we spent sometimes, especially as I knew Daniel had re-mortgaged our house to secure a business loan recently. I had been very uneasy about compromising our home like that, but he had insisted I sign the paperwork as the business needed the injection of cash.
He laughed and shook his head.
‘You worry too much. Of course we can afford it. It’s okay for me to spoil my wife, isn’t it? I got a last-minute deal, but if you don’t want to go, I suppose I can always cancel…take the car back.…’
He was mocking me and I giggled, relieved. Apparently, he was on a roll and his excitement was infectious.
‘Can we stay at The Eden Rock?’ I asked.
‘Of course. I’ve already booked the Captain’s Cabin, the same room we had last time.’
‘Oh my God, fantastic! I love that place so much.’
St Barths was an idyllic little island in the Caribbean, playground of the rich and famous, just off the larger island of St Martin. I remembered the short flight over from St Martin in a light aircraft the last time we had been there. Hair raising to say the least. The pilot had to come in low over the trees on top of the mountain, seeming to almost touch them, then dive sharply down to make the scarily short landing strip, which finished just before the beach met the sea. Occasionally a plane failed to stop in time and ended up crashed on the beach. The photos of such incidents added interest to the walls of the fashionable Eden Rock Hotel perched as its name suggested on a large rock near the landing strip.
We had been to the tiny island twice before; the first time we stayed at the Eden Rock, the second time we were cruising with Charles and Samantha on their Swan 80. Like so many of the larger cruising yachts, theirs spent the summer in the Mediterranean, based in Monaco, and the winter in the Caribbean. The four of us could easily handle the boat for cruising with its furling sails and electric winches.
Daniel was not joking when he said he got a last-minute deal. Two weeks after Champneys we were walking along the sandy pathway to the Eden Rock Hotel, with the sunset providing a spectacular backdrop for our arrival. We were sure to have a wonderful ten days in Paradise, but I somehow couldn’t quite get rid of the niggling little worry in the back of my mind that the money from the re-mortgage was paying for the holiday and we were living on borrowed time.
I had spent a frantic couple of days going back and forth between hairdresser and beauty salon, endeavouring to ensure that my body prepping was up to standard for the chic French island.
‘No fatties allowed in here!’ Daniel quipped as we arrived. ‘Good job you keep yourself nice and trim or you’d find yourself back on the plane, rejected by the customs police.’
Daniel hated women being overweight and I was always paranoid to make sure I did not fall into that trap. I liked the compliments he always gave me about my figure and, like most women, I was not averse to flattery. At thirty-five years old, I knew I could scrub up well with a bit of effort, but I had to work at it. I told myself that was one of the advantages of not having had children; my body had not been subjected to the ravages of childbirth.
Every cloud….
Throughout our marriage, Daniel had remained vehemently against the idea of having children and, as the years rolled by, I wrestled with my own feelings and tried desperately to accept the situation. I could have left him of course, in the hope of meeting someone else who wanted me to be the mother of his children, but what if that had never happened? I knew there were no guarantees and I was not prepared to take the risk of losing what I had. At the end of the day, I loved him and did not want to throw away the life I had by chasing after an elusive dream that may or may not have come true.
And yet, despite what I told myself, I still clung to a little glimmer of hope that Daniel would change his mind before it was too late for me.
The Trap
Jane
Men were uncomplicated creatures in Jane’s opinion and easy to manipulate. It came down to sex, simple as that. Matthew had unconventional tastes in the bedroom department and she always made sure she pulled out all the stops, especially after a row, just to remind him what he would potentially be missing. Sex was always the key. Jane knew when she was onto a good thing and never pushed too far in an argument. As a result, eight years down the line, she was still hanging on in there.
Jane had a strong suspicion that Matthew was still sleeping with his wife, but she also knew he kept on coming back to her for the more ‘alternative’ option. She made sure she indulged him and was always quick to massage his ego. In return, he paid a regular sum of two grand into her account each month for ‘services she provided to his business’. To be fair, she did actually get involved in some of the accounting for his company as she had quickly realised it gave her the perfect opportunity to snoop and gather potential ammunition, just in case he ever got any ideas about leaving her in the lurch.
In reality, she was forced to admit that things had not progressed as planned and the status quo after all this time remained the same. To all intents and purposes, they were like a proper couple. They went for walks in the country with the dog he had suddenly presented her with one day, went on holidays and had occasional weekends away.
Like a proper couple - she thought to herself - but not quite.
His wife was still there in the background, somewhere on the other side of the country, spoiling everything. If Matthew didn’t buck his ideas up soon she was going to have to take matters into her own hands. Jane was still ‘the other woman’ and she was getting mightily sick of it. She had one last trick up her sleeve, but if that didn’t work…. Well, let’s just say she knew there were people out there who had made a career out of ‘problem-solving’. Tracy’s pervy husband, Rodney, was not as squeaky clean as he liked to make out and Tracy had been less than discreet about his dealings on several occasions. Jane was pretty confident he knew the right people to talk to if necessary. She was certainly not ruling that option out, but it could get very compl
icated, not to mention dangerous. Before she went down that route, she intended to try a change of tactic.
Jane had mistakenly believed that, sooner or later, Matthew would leave his wife for her, but he seemed more than happy to jog along with things as they were which did not bode well for the future in her opinion. She had no intention of being a glorified shag buddy for the rest of her life, nor did she have any intention of letting her meal ticket slip through her fingers. She worked on him for months to take her on holiday to South Africa, until he finally caved in; actually believing it was his idea.
‘That sounds amazing,’ she said eagerly, then jumped to her feet and hugged him, before slipping her hand deftly down the front of his trousers to reward him.
Martini girl, that’s me - she thought wryly to herself - Any time, any place, anywhere and always up for a quick shag.
What the heck. She enjoyed it most of the time. On the balance of things she felt she had made the right decision over the last few years to put up and shut up about his wife. Until now. South Africa was her opportunity to put her well and truly in her box.
They flew into Cape Town on the overnight flight from London and had breakfast at the top of glorious Table Mountain, with its spectacular views of the sea and the city. The plan was to take their time and drive towards Durban along the Garden Route via the Transkei in their hired 4x4, stopping off several times along the way. Jane had planned the journey meticulously and was accepting nothing less than five-star luxury wherever possible. He needed to realise she did not come cheap. It took nearly six hours to reach the Outeniqua Mountains, where they were spending a couple of nights in the exclusive Teniqua Treetops Hotel, in a hand-carved treehouse in the middle of the protected forest. It was truly breath-taking, although the atmosphere was somewhat spoiled by the fact that Matthew was infinitely more interested in whether or not he could get a mobile phone signal. Jane couldn’t work out what he was up to, but she was pretty sure it wasn't for work reasons.
On the edge of the Wild Coast, not far from Durban, was the five-star Prana Lodge, with its own Thai spa, nestled in the middle of a deep forest. It promised ‘ultimate relaxation for body and soul’, but Jane’s temper was becoming increasingly frayed by Matthew’s lack of enthusiasm in bed. He was going through the motions but was permanently distracted. He actually fell asleep on the job one night and when she challenged him about it, he gave the feeble explanation that he was worried about work. Jane had recognised all the signs recently back at home, but if he thought he was going to get away with pushing her to one side after all the effort she had put in, he had another think coming.
Jane knew exactly how she was going to play this and decided it was time to use her trump card. She opened her toiletry bag and took out the strip of little white contraceptive pills, wrapping them in tissue paper and throwing them in the bin with a satisfied smirk.
‘You’re not getting rid of me that easily mate,’ she said to no one in particular.
When Matthew announced a few days later that they would have to cut their holiday short, due to a crisis with the business back at home, she didn’t really care.
Two months later, on a minibreak in the Cotswolds, she dropped the bombshell, after a particularly energetic sex session.
‘I’m pregnant.’ Short and to the point.
He nearly choked on his Mount Gay and coke and Jane felt an immediate rush of power and control. She liked the feeling.
‘You’re what? But you’re supposed to be on the pill! How the hell did that happen?’
He stopped talking, apparently lost for words.
‘Well, it happens when a man and a woman…,’
He cut her short.
‘Don’t be so fucking smart. It’s hardly a laughing matter, is it? This was not part of the deal. I always told you I didn’t want kids and you said you didn’t either?’
Yes, but that was before you started to lose interest – she thought to herself.
‘I know and that was true, but now that it’s happened by accident, it’s not such a disaster, is it?’ she asked, trying her best to look tearful.
‘Well no, I don’t suppose…Christ, I don’t know.’
He was red in the face and beads of sweat had formed on his forehead.
‘I need some air. I’ll be back in a minute.’
He pulled on a dressing gown and disappeared onto the terrace. Jane took a sip of her orange juice and waited patiently.
She knew it was a risky strategy, but she was confident it would work.
A child is born
Jane
A baby had never been part of her original plan and, as her face contorted with the indescribable pain of another contraction, she cursed her change of heart. The lights in the delivery room were too bright and her annoyance was turning rapidly to fear. This was not how it was supposed to be. She liked to be in control and this was unfamiliar territory for her.
Up until the moment when the midwife felt the need to call in the doctor, things had been progressing well. The announcement that the baby was showing signs of distress changed everything, and the staff all seemed to go into emergency overdrive. They were now preparing to perform a caesarean on her and there was still no sign of Matthew. Jane was furious with him for letting her down yet again, but just as she had given up on him, a smiling nurse burst in with perfect theatrical timing to deliver the triumphant news that her husband had finally arrived.
Someone else’s husband actually - Jane did not bother to correct the young nurse.
‘Talk about leaving it until the eleventh hour,’ she spat, making her displeasure clear.
‘I know, I know, but I’m here now. That’s all that matters, isn’t it? I got here as quickly as I could.’
He kissed her on the forehead.
‘Come on now. Let’s do this. Let’s meet our son.’
God, he is so cheesy sometimes – she thought - Always one to put on a good show.
She was not convinced about his sincerity, but what she did know was that everything was about to change. She would no longer be ‘the other woman’. Very soon her status would be elevated to ‘mother of his child’. That poor cow of a wife wouldn’t know what had hit her. Jane almost felt sorry for her.
Almost.
Smug and elated despite the pain, she was secure in the knowledge that all her scheming would finally be worth it. The plan was coming to fruition.
As she drifted into a semi-conscious state, courtesy of the drugs they gave her, she told herself that this was no more than she deserved. She had invested everything in this relationship and she had no intention of allowing herself to be cast aside. She had simply taken the necessary steps to protect her investment, insurance in the shape of a child.
From somewhere nearby, she heard the words:
‘Congratulations, you have a beautiful baby boy!’
The nurse in the delivery room was speaking quickly. ‘He’s having a bit of trouble breathing, so we’re taking him straight to the special baby unit. It’s nothing to worry about. You’ll be able to see him very soon. We need to look after you both now.’
Jane opened her mouth to say something, but the nurse was already disappearing into the corridor with her baby.
Jane felt as if she was in some kind of parallel universe. Things were happening all around her and to her, but she had no control over anything. It was six hours before she was allowed to hold her baby, but in those six hours, she was delighted to note that things had most definitely changed. The two of them were in this together now, united as parents. Matthew, who had never wanted children, seemed utterly smitten. This little baby was the one that would finally get rid of his wife once and for all. She could not help gloating that, at last, she would be number one. They were a proper family now and there was no way ‘horsewoman’ could compete with that.
Jane suddenly remembered Matthew had told her his wife couldn’t have children, which was partly why she was so unhinged.
Shame.
Five years later, as Jane sat alone at her son’s school play, in which he had a starring role as Old Macdonald, she realised to her consternation that she was still ‘the other woman’. Matthew had been called away on business at the last minute, so sadly couldn’t be there, or at least that was what he told her. She didn’t believe that cock and bull story for a second. In the drawer of her bedside table was a photo of Matthew’s wife she had childishly defaced with a black moustache and beard. She thought of all the other photos she had on her back up device and decided she had had enough. It was time for action.
Unfortunately for Jane, what she did not know then was that Matthew’s wife was not the only one she needed to worry about.
The Conversation
‘It won’t be cheap and you know there’s always the chance that we might be found out.’
‘How big a chance?’
The man took a long drag on his Marlboro Light and blew the smoke residue high into the air, despite the no-smoking sign by the window of the hotel room. He shook his head from side to side. The movement was barely noticeable.
‘Not much,’ he said, ‘everything will more or less be destroyed.’
‘Are you sure?’
He nodded.
‘Full tank of fuel, everything will be vaporised.’
He flicked his ash into the overfull ashtray.
‘So who’s your client.’
‘That’s not your concern,’ she said, reaching into her handbag and pulling out a manila padded envelope. ‘Here’s what you asked for. You’ll get the rest after the accident.’
The man reached out for the envelope and took it. He couldn’t help but smile. The woman was already describing it as an ‘accident’. It was going to be no accident. He looked up. ‘You realise there are no guarantees?’
Twenty Years a Stranger (The Stranger Series Book 1) Page 8
