Two-Week Wife

by Miranda Lee

  Bianca was shocked on her return to Gate B to see her mother already there, frowning as she looked around the milling crowd for a familiar face. It seemed business class passengers were shunted through Customs a darned sight faster than the economy section in which Bianca usually travelled.

  Mrs Peterson spotted her daughter and tears swiftly replaced the worry in her eyes. Bianca felt her own eyes flood as she hurried forward and threw her arms around the only person in the world who truly loved and understood her.

  Till this week, she’d thought Adam did as well. But she’d been wrong about that. The thought hurt her more than she liked to admit, even to herself.

  The hug was long and touchingly silent. The two women embraced tightly, no words necessary. Or perhaps neither was capable of speaking for a few moments. Finally, Bianca drew back to look her mother over.

  ‘God, you look good!’ she exclaimed.

  And she did. Nothing at all like the frail, wan woman who’d been lying in that hospital bed last May. There was flesh on her bones, colour in her face and that old sparkle in her pretty blue eyes. For a woman of fifty who’d been battling cancer all year, she looked bloody marvellous!

  Bianca stood there, a silly grin on her face as she thanked God for the miracle He’d obviously performed in answer to her many prayers. Yet, down deep in her heart, she still feared that the battle was not yet over, the fight not yet completely won. As such, she was not going to say or do anything to cause her mother extra stress.

  Her mum believed Adam was her adoring, loving husband, and Bianca was going to make sure she continued to think that till she was well out of the woods.

  ‘Where’s Adam?’ May asked straight away. ‘Parking the car?’

  Bianca swallowed, smiled, then started on her newest invention. ‘Actually, no, he couldn’t be here with me, Mum. Your surprise visit has unfortunately coincided with a series of conferences in America Adam simply had to attend. He was wretchedly disappointed, but this trip was very important to his career at the university.’

  ‘Oh, what a shame,’ her Mum sighed. ‘And I was so looking forward to seeing him again. I do so love that boy. I always knew he was the right one for you, Bianca. I’m just so glad that you finally realised it too. Still, maybe you and he can come over to Scotland some time in the near future. I’d love the rest of the family to meet him.’

  ‘Er...yes, of course, Mum.’ Bianca could not trust herself to say any more. Resentment that Adam had put her in this awkward position had begun to sizzle inside her again. She also bitterly resented the thought that she would have to lie like this for a whole fortnight while he was off having fun with his new lady love and not giving her a second thought!

  ‘Let’s get out of here,’ she said, rather abruptly, and her mother gave her a sharp and far too intuitive look.

  ‘There isn’t anything wrong, is there, darling?’

  Bianca found a dazzling smile from somewhere. ‘Wrong? What could possibly be wrong?’

  ‘I don’t know...’

  Bianca linked arms with her mother and dazzled some more. ‘You silly billy! I haven’t been this happy in years. We’re going to have such fun this next fortnight, you and I. I’ve taken two weeks’ holiday off work and we’re going to paint Sydney red!’

  Bianca started telling her mother all she had planned, and by the time they were on their way—the car had still coughed and spluttered before starting—that slight worry in her mother’s eyes had totally disappeared. Thank God.

  ‘What a lovely flat you live in,’ her mother said as she walked out onto the balcony of Adam’s unit an hour later.

  ‘Yes, I suppose it is,’ Bianca agreed with a degree of surprise. Really, she didn’t care much about her surroundings, provided there was a shower and a toilet, a comfortable bed to sleep in and some kind of kitchen to cook in.

  But, with her mother’s comment, she took a fresh glance around at the spacious and modern unit, with its crisp white walls, brown leather furniture, plush sable-coloured carpet and marvellous aspect. They were only a couple of streets away from Collaroy Beach, and high enough to have an unimpeded view of the beach and the Pacific beyond.

  Though not in the luxurious category, the twobedroomed unit was very comfortable by anyone’s standards.

  ‘Do you own it or rent it?’ Mrs Peterson called back over her shoulder.

  Bianca bit her bottom lip at this question. Did Adam own it or rent it? She didn’t know. She’d never asked and he’d never volunteered the information. She rather suspected he owned it, which was why he let her live here free. But she wasn’t sure.

  ‘It’s...er...still being paid off,’ she said carefully.

  ‘It’s lovely. But not really suitable for children.’ Her mother walked back inside and into the kitchen, where Bianca was making them both a cup of tea. ‘Are you planning on having a family soon?’ she asked hopefully.

  Bianca’s heart squeezed tight. She knew what her mother was getting at. She wanted to be a grandmother before she died.

  ‘Not just yet, Mum,’ she returned, a little tautly.

  ‘You do realise it might take you some time to get pregnant, with your periods the way they are?’

  ‘Yes, I know.’ Bianca was one of those girls who only had a few periods a year. When she’d been playing heavy sport she’d hardly had any. She’d always joked with her mother that if she ever fell pregnant she’d have to have the baby—no matter what the circumstances—because it might be the only baby she’d ever be blessed with!

  Earlier this year she’d gone on the pill, in an effort to regulate things and boost her oestrogen level, but it had made her feel so yukky she’d stopped taking it three weeks back. She had no doubt that the artificial period which had naturally followed the next week would be the last period she would see for months.

  She sighed her exasperation at her body, which had always been a source of frustration to her. She would have given anything to be an Amazon with big boobs, legs ten feet long and a period every month that you could set your clock by.

  ‘You might have to take one of those fertility pills,’ her mother said. ‘Though that usually produces multiple births. You wouldn’t want that.’

  ‘God, no.’ Bianca had trouble picturing herself coping with one baby at a time, let alone several.

  ‘Does Adam want a big family?’

  ‘Let’s not talk about babies, Mum. Adam and I have only been married a few months after all. Do you want a biscuit with your tea? Dinner won’t be for a couple of hours yet.’

  Her mum took the hint and dropped the subject of babies, though not without first giving her a long, thoughtful look. Bianca suspected her silence on the subject was only temporary. She began to dread the coming fortnight.

  The evening finally drew to a close. Her meal of Thai curried chicken and rice had been a surprising success, given her mother’s tendency to cook plain food herself.

  Bianca had also expected her mother to crash out early with jet lag, but she’d said she wanted to get her body onto Sydney time, so they’d watched the Friday night Ruth Rendell movie, which went on quite late, after which her mother had finally got ready for bed and taken her sleeping tablet.

  Bianca made them both a cup of cocoa as a nightcap, and they were sitting on the sofa in front of the television, idly watching the late news and sipping their hot drinks, when an item came on covering the première earlier that evening of a new Australian movie.

  Bianca started watching the segment rather cynically, thinking how like Hollywood the Australian movie industry was becoming. A whole lot of hype and not always that much quality!

  There was the obligatory red carpet, the white stretch limousines, the screaming fans and, of course, the stars...glamorous women dressed in glitzy gowns and handsome men looking impossibly suave and sophisticated in superbly cut tuxedos. Such a false world, Bianca was thinking, when suddenly a very familiar face filled the screen.

  A familiar face, yet not a familiar one.
Bianca could hardly believe that was her Adam, in one of those superbly cut tuxedos, with one of those glamorous women on his arm dressed in a gold lamé gown cut right down to her navel.

  ‘Isn’t that Adam?’ her mother said in a puzzled voice.

  ‘Shh!’ Bianca hissed, desperate to hear what the commentator was saying. She didn’t stop to realise how damning his words might be to her story of her supposed husband being over in the US of A at a harmless conference.

  ‘And here’s Sophie La Salle arriving. Sophie has only a small part in this new and daring film, but one hopes that some smart producer will realise the public will want to see more of the glorious Sophie in future. Not that we aren’t seeing quite a bit of her already here tonight. That’s some dress, Sophie!

  ‘It certainly seems to be appreciated by her very handsome escort. Can’t say I recognise him. Perhaps he’s one of the show’s producers. Maybe we’ll get a hint as to his identity later this evening at the post-première party. We’ll keep you posted, folks.’

  Furious disbelief exploded in Bianca’s brain as she watched Adam slide an intimate arm around that disgustingly gorgeous creature’s incredibly small waist. Or maybe it just looked small, she thought viciously, because of the size of the breasts above it, which not even the thick golden tresses spilling over them could begin to hide!

  ‘Bianca, that is Adam, isn’t it?’ her mother was saying somewhere in Bianca’s hazy background. Her whole focus was still fixed on the television screen and the way Adam was smiling into that woman’s smugly beautiful face as he shepherded her into the theatre. She’d never realised before what a sexy smile he had. Or how handsome he was.

  When had he grown that handsome, dammit?

  ‘Bianca?’ her mother prodded impatiently.

  ‘Yes, it’s Adam,’ she bit out.

  ‘But...But...’

  ‘The bastard!’ Bianca added savagely, no longer caring about anything but the rage flooding through her. And the jealousy. A black, black jealousy.

  This last realisation had her jumping to her feet and pacing agitatedly around the room. She couldn’t possibly be jealous. Being jealous was a symptom of loving someone. And she didn’t love Adam. Not like that. It had to be a case of that selfish possessiveness Adam had accused her of, whereby she didn’t want him herself but she didn’t want anyone else to have him.

  ‘Bianca,’ her mother said firmly as she stood up and switched off the television set. ‘Will you please stand still and tell me what’s going on here?’

  Bianca struggled to gather herself. And once she did she accepted that she would have to tell her mother the truth. She wasn’t going to pretend that Adam had thrown her over for that blonde bombshell, though it felt as if he had. And she didn’t like the feeling one bit!

  ‘I’m sorry, Mum,’ she said brusquely, ‘but I haven’t been strictly honest with you.’

  ‘Well, that’s pretty obvious! Adam is clearly not over in America at any conference, since he was here in Sydney tonight, accompanying that... that...actress...to the movies!’

  ‘So it seems,’ Bianca agreed through gritted teeth.

  ‘My God, he’s left you, hasn’t he?’ came her mother’s shocked conclusion. ‘He’s having an affair with that...that...trollop!’

  ‘That’s the way it looks, I guess.’

  ‘I can’t believe it! I thought Adam was different. It just shows that most men can’t be trusted—especially where a beautiful woman is concerned. A pretty girl only had to bat her eyes at your father and he was a goner.’

  Bianca’s sigh was deep and weary. She’d heard about her father’s unfaithfulness at some length all her life and didn’t want another lecture on the male sex’s lack of moral fibre. She also wished to heaven she’d never started this.

  Time, she decided resignedly, for the truth.

  Bianca was about to launch into a full confession when the sound of a key rattling in the front door lock distracted her.

  Both women’s eyes turned in time to see Adam walk in, still in his tuxedo—although the bow tie was now undone, suggesting it might have been removed at some stage during the evening. He looked startled to see Bianca’s mother standing in the room.

  He also still looked disturbingly handsome, Bianca conceded, confusion in her heart. She couldn’t stop staring at him and wondering if she’d really looked at him lately.

  Her eyes swept over him now, taking in the adult Adam for perhaps the first time in years.

  His face, though not classically formed, was undeniably very handsome: strong male features combined with intelligent grey eyes to project an impressive look of maturity and confidence. His dark brown hair, which he’d once worn far too long and wayward, was now superbly cut to fit his nicely shaped head. His mouth, she noticed, was just as nicely shaped, the bottom lip sensuously full.

  Bianca liked nice mouths on men.

  She frowned as she started having decidedly erotic thoughts, not so much about men’s mouths in general, but Adam’s in particular. Annoyed with herself, she dropped her eyes to follow the full length of Adam’s frame, trying to find something she could happily criticise.

  She found the dinner suit he was wearing—that very expensive-looking, silk blend, satanic black and devilishly attractive dinner suit.

  Most men would look good in that outfit, she decided waspishly. It was like a magic wand. Pop it on any male and poof, its inhabitant would become instantly glamorous and gorgeous—a bit like Cinderella did once her fairy godmother had garbed her in that beautiful ball dress and glass slippers.

  That suit was better than any fairy godmother’s wand!

  Bianca’s now scornful gaze rested on the undoubtedly padded shoulders, which would account for Adam’s suddenly superb shape. Not a wrinkle creased either sleeve, nor the long, elegant trousers, seemingly housing equally long, elegant legs.

  Bianca scowled as she tried to recall the last time she’d seen Adam’s legs in the buff. No image came to mind. Yet she must have, she supposed, either in shorts, or some time around the unit—though he wasn’t into shorts, and that red dressing gown he always wore covered a hell of a lot of him.

  Her irritation grew as she realised that, although they lived near a beach, she’d never gone swimming with him, so she didn’t know what he looked like in a cossie. How was it, she puzzled furiously, that they’d never gone swimming together?

  His startled grey eyes met her glaring ones, and he gave the wall clock a darting glance. It was just on midnight.

  Cinderella, it seemed, Bianca decided with savage sarcasm, had left the ball and finally come home.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  IT ONLY took Adam a few seconds to get the picture. Bianca’s mother must have flown in earlier than intended, and his coming home had completely obliterated whatever outrageous story Bianca had told her to explain his absence from the marital home.

  He almost laughed. It was a fitting end to a bloody awful night and a bloody awful week. The only good thing to come out of it was that he’d spent each night at the casino, winning incredible sums of money. Incredible because he’d bet recklessly, with no real system. His mind had been too full of Bianca to concentrate on a system, or even a proper staking plan.

  Ironic that he’d come back, trying to do the right thing by her, his conscience having finally got the better of him, only to drop her right in it, obviously. He gave her an apologetic shrug which was met with a glare so fierce he was taken aback.

  Good God, what had she told her mother about their marriage? He shuddered to think.

  ‘Hello, Mrs Peterson,’ he said with a sheepish smile. ‘You’re looking well.’ Which she did.

  She’d also always looked upon him with favour.

  Till this moment...

  ‘Hello, indeed,’ she returned stiffly. ‘And you’re looking guilty. I hope you’ve finally seen the error of your ways and come to beg Bianca’s forgiveness.’

  ‘Pardon?’ He shot Bianca a please-help-me glance, only to hav
e those dagger eyes of hers cutting him to shreds again.

  ‘There’s no use playing Mr Innocent, Adam,’ Bianca snapped. ‘We saw you on the late-night news, escorting darling Sophie to the première of that movie tonight.’

  Oh, he thought, and had to smother a laugh again. That would certainly have blotted his copybook, if he was supposed to be Bianca’s loving husband. Which, no doubt, he still was. Bianca would not have backed down and told her mother she’d lied. That was not her usual modus operandi at all. She would have plunged further into the mire of more deceit and deception rather than confess all.

  Admittedly, one look at her mother’s stern and disapproving face was even making him feel guilty and uncomfortable. And he hadn’t done anything!

  ‘I tried to cover for your absence by telling Mum you were at an overseas conference,’ Bianca raged on, blue eyes flashing and cheeks flushed a bright red. ‘But you rather blew my excuse out of the water with your very public behaviour with that disgusting woman tonight. The least you could have done was conduct your affair behind closed doors, not flaunt it for all the world to see. You’ve made me look a fool, Adam, and I will not have it!’

  Adam could hardly believe what he was hearing, and astonishment over Bianca’s attack mixed with astonishment over her demeanour.

  He’d never seen her so angry. Or so damned beautiful! This level of temper tantrum did become her. And he didn’t think he’d ever seen her wearing such a feminine skirt before—certainly not one which rustled around her legs with each movement she made. He was momentarily distracted by the thought of how easily he could slide his hands up her legs with a skirt like that.

  ‘I want you to leave!’ she stormed on. ‘Get your clothes or whatever you’ve come for and just go!’

  Adam dragged his attention back up to Bianca’s scorn-filled eyes, his fantasy fleeing in the face of reality. Any amusement vanished, his heart hardening against her. Who in hell did she think she was, making him look this bad in her mother’s eyes?

  He decided two could play at this game. After all, he’d vowed never to let her use him ever again. He’d warned her too. She should have listened to him.