They took possession of the house in May, and the workmen started almost immediately. It was a mess within days. The whole house was torn apart for Nigel’s improvements. It looked like a bomb had hit it. The pristine quality she had liked about it had vanished. The disruption added measurably to the tension between them. Their nights in the mews house were more stressful than pleasant as they argued about the work on the new house. The weekend parties they went to constantly, more than ever now that they were the golden couple everyone wanted to entertain, only meant that she had to put a good face on the strife between them.
They were barely speaking to each other again on the first of June, when Nigel came home from a Saturday lunch with some of his male friends looking sheepish. She had no idea why he looked that way, and didn’t ask him. She was already tired of problems with the contractor and workmen at the house, doing work that hadn’t needed to be done anyway. It seemed like a total waste of time and money, and a lot of both.
“Do you want to go out to dinner tonight?” he asked her, which surprised her. They hadn’t gone out to dinner alone since April. They had done nothing but argue about the house, and eat at home. And most nights they didn’t bother to eat dinner, after they argued about the latest estimates from the contractor. Their lovemaking fell by the wayside again. She was paying for everything and money was flowing out the door. She had read somewhere that remodeling and moving were two of the greatest life stressors other than divorce or loss of a loved one. She was tired of hearing about the house she hadn’t wanted in the first place. She wasn’t sure she wanted to have dinner with him, and hear more. She was sure he had come up with some new expensive plan for the remodel.
She hesitated and he looked at her, and sat down on the couch. “I have something to tell you.”
“The house burned to the ground,” she said in a choked voice, almost hoping it had.
“Of course not. It’s going to be gorgeous and you’re going to love it. No, I had an opportunity today that I couldn’t pass up. I would have called you, but I didn’t want to tell you on the phone. A friend of mine invited one of my old mates from Eton for lunch. A great guy. He moved to Australia after he left Oxford. His parents died recently and he was here to settle their affairs. They had an absolutely gorgeous house in Sussex. My friend needs money, and he told me to name my price. I quoted an absolutely, ridiculously low amount, and he took it on the spot. We shook hands on it, so it’s a done deal. We’ll need a country house anyway, Coco. I know this is a lot all at once, but trust me, it’s a gorgeous place. I couldn’t pass it up. It needs a little work, but not much.”
“You did what?” She stood across the room from him and stared at him, unable to believe what he had just said. “You bought a house in Sussex over lunch? It’s a done deal and you didn’t even call me? And you expect me to pay for it? Are you out of your mind, Nigel?” This time she wasn’t frightened or upset. She was furious. She couldn’t believe he’d done something like that. Now they were about to have two houses she didn’t want. He was out of control. He had signed off on their prenup as though it didn’t matter to him, and had been spending millions of dollars of her money ever since. “What were you thinking?” She owned the house, but he was costing her a fortune, and not even apologetic about it. He kept telling her how lucky she was that he was improving her investment. And now he wanted to buy another one, or just had.
“Coco, we need a country house. It just turned up a little earlier than we planned.”
“We never planned to have a country house. We never even talked about it. For what? Why do we need a country house?”
“To give house parties like the ones we go to every weekend. We can’t mooch off my friends forever,” he said primly, and for that exact moment she almost hated him.
“I don’t mooch off anyone, Nigel. I don’t even know if I can afford it.”
“I think you can.”
“You don’t know that. I don’t even know if I can. And a handshake does not constitute a ‘done deal’ when it requires someone else’s money. This is a nightmare.”
“Do you love me?” he asked, looking woebegone.
“That’s beside the point. I don’t love what you do, or how you spend my money, without even consulting me! What kind of marriage is this?” It was a very expensive one to be sure.
“I’m asking you to trust me. I know houses. You’re going to end up with two of the prettiest houses in England.”
“And the largest staff and the highest expenses. How big is the place in Sussex?”
“It has four good houses on it, pastureland, and beautiful stables. He even threw in the horses. There are only six there now, but there’s room for a lot more. And there’s a lake.”
“This is insanity.” He told her the price he had agreed to, and she had to admit, it sounded low to her too, but she didn’t want a country house or to spend more money. She couldn’t be married to a man who incurred expenses to that degree without even asking her.
She slammed out of the house and went for a long walk. He was gone when she came back. She hoped he had gone to find his friend from Australia to tell him he had to renege on the deal. He didn’t come home until midnight, and he was drunk.
“Did you get out of it?”
“Out of what?” He looked confused as he got into bed.
“Out of the house in Sussex. I thought maybe that was where you went.”
“Of course not. I gave him my word as a gentleman, I can’t go back on that.”
“What if I refuse to pay?” She felt desperate and trapped. What if he bought more houses?
“I suppose then he might sue us for breach of promise. I gave him a note on it, and signed it.”
“Nigel,” she said, feeling frantic, “this has to stop. You’re going to ruin me.”
“According to my discreet inquiries, you have a lot more than that.” Her stomach turned over as he said it. And when had he researched that? Before or after he married her? Sam had been right from the first. Nigel was after money. A lot of it. And a lifestyle she didn’t want and feared she couldn’t afford long-term.
She went downstairs then and slept on the couch, and he was too drunk to get out of bed again. When he got up in the morning and came downstairs, she was gone. She had called Leslie Thomas, her boss, and went over to her house. She had no one else to talk to. She told her what had been happening, and Leslie looked dismayed.
“You know, these men from the old aristocratic families don’t know how to live without money. They’re used to their houses and their farms and their land just being there, and the lifestyle that went with it. When it’s all gone, they somehow expect it to be magically restored to them again. I think it crushed Nigel when his brother got everything, even though he knew he would. And I think he expects you to be that magic, to re-create for him that world that he grew up with. It’s not very realistic. I’m not sure that he even realizes he’s taking advantage of you. What do you want to do now? Divorce him?”
Coco shook her head miserably. “I love him, but he can’t keep doing this. I don’t trust him now, he can’t keep buying houses with my money.”
“Can you explain that to him?”
“I’m not sure he’ll listen. I’m trying to. He refuses to hear me.” She looked depressed about it. “We shouldn’t have gotten married. It was too fast. We didn’t know each other well enough. It was all very romantic, and now it’s anything but.”
“I thought so too, that it was too fast, but I know how Nigel is when he wants something. And he wanted you. I’m sure he still does. Maybe all you can do is tell him that if he buys another house like that, you’ll divorce him, and stick to it.” Coco nodded. There wasn’t much else she could do now except leave him. But even after the house he’d just bought in Sussex, she didn’t want to leave him. She loved him. “Your calling me this morning is fortuitous,
” Leslie said to her. “I’ve been wanting to talk to you.” Coco wondered if she had done something wrong or was being fired. “I’m leaving Time. It was a big decision, but I’ve wanted to start my own business for a while. I came into some money recently from an aunt, and I’m going to give it a try. I want to start a relocation business, for people moving to London who need to set up house. I’ll find them a location, stage it for them, or decorate it, and get it all set up before they arrive. I have a friend who’s been doing that in Paris, and making very good money. There’s a real need for it. Corporations move people here all the time, and others just move here for personal reasons, as you did.”
“It sounds like fun,” Coco said, thinking about the plan, but disappointed that Leslie was leaving Time. She liked working for her, and she liked her job, although she knew her internship would end sooner or later. She had already been there for ten months.
“That’s why I wanted to talk to you. I think you’d be great at it. Now that you’re a permanent resident here, would you consider coming to work for me? I’d love to have you.” Coco’s eyes lit up. It sounded like a good idea, and she wanted a long-term job.
“I’d love it!” She beamed at her.
“You would? Fantastic!”
“When are you starting?”
“The end of this month. I plan to open up the business at the end of July. I’m giving them four weeks’ notice tomorrow. You could give them two weeks’ notice, as an intern. I’d rather they not know that I’m stealing interns from them. And I’d pay you a proper salary. You’ll be legal doing that now, since you’re married to Nigel.”
They talked about the business for a while. It sounded exciting. Leslie was going to work out of her house at first, to keep the overhead down. She only lived ten minutes from Coco’s mews house by cab, and not too far from their new one. The offer of a job was the best news she’d had in months. The four and a half months since her wedding had been rocky, and expensive.
“What are you going to do about Nigel?” Leslie asked Coco gently before she left.
“Kill him if he buys another house.”
“Hopefully, he’ll behave now. If not, you should get out. I never realized how irresponsible he could be.”
Or how greedy, Coco thought. He wanted everything, a city house, a country estate, and God only knew what else he had in mind, and he wanted it all right now, at her expense. He knew too well that she could afford it.
Leslie hugged her before she left, Coco was excited about the job offer, and Leslie had suggested a decent wage.
Coco was in better spirits when she let herself into her house. Nigel was at the kitchen table with a ferocious hangover.
“Where were you?” he asked her.
“I went to see Leslie Thomas,” she said.
“What about?” She didn’t tell him about the job. It was none of his business.
“Something to do with work.” He nodded, which made him wince, and she went upstairs and showered and changed. When he came upstairs and lay down on the bed, she asked him a direct question. “How were you planning to pay your friend for the house in Sussex?”
“I told him you would. We’d been drinking a lot by then. I said you would pay in three installments, by wire transfer. It was his suggestion. He needs the cash.” She nodded and didn’t respond. She went out after that, and spent the day walking and thinking, and didn’t come back until six o’clock that evening. Nigel was out, and hadn’t left a note for her. He knew that he had gone a giant step too far.
She called Ed Easton the next day on her cellphone from work, and told him about the house in Sussex. Nigel was right. He had gotten it at a very low price, but he still shouldn’t have done it without consulting her.
“Your new husband is spending your money like water,” Ed commented. “As your trustee, I have to warn you that’s not wise.”
“Am I broke yet?” she asked with a sigh.
“Far from it. But you will be one day if he keeps this up.”
“I’m planning to shut him down.” She asked him to transfer the price of the house to her bank account in London, and he said he’d take care of it. He couldn’t resist adding a comment, maybe because she had ended it with him, or maybe because he believed it.
“I’m glad we got the prenup we did. I felt a little guilty about making it so tough on him, but now I’m glad I did.”
“So am I,” she said clearly. “Thanks, Ed.” And then she hung up. Even if things weren’t going smoothly with Nigel, she had no regrets about Ed, and knew she never would.
Chapter 8
Leslie gave the magazine notice on Monday and told them that she would be leaving at the end of June. Starting her own business had always been her dream and she wanted to pursue it. She had just turned thirty-nine, without a husband or children, and she figured it was the right time to give it a try. She had no encumbrances, and thanks to her late aunt, she had the money now to do it.
Coco told Nigel that night that she was going to pay for the house in Sussex, but if he did anything like that again, she would leave him. She wasn’t going to let him ruin her financially so he could show off to his friends. He thanked her profusely, and swore he wouldn’t buy any more houses or make any more financial commitments without consulting her. He acted almost like a child who had been punished, and she realized that even though he was ten years older than she was, he was immature and irresponsible. It wasn’t a happy discovery, but it was what she had to deal with. Nigel was a charming child as long as he got his way, and a very nasty one when he didn’t. He manipulated her by withholding love.
He was supervising the contractors at both houses, so at least Coco didn’t have to worry about it. She was planning to give notice at the magazine two weeks after Leslie had, so they could leave at the same time. She hadn’t told Nigel about her new job yet. Communication between them was still strained, and they hadn’t made love since he bought the house in Sussex. She was too upset about it. The day before she was planning to give notice, he came home looking as though the world had come to an end. He poured himself a stiff drink, sat down on the couch, and glanced at her with a miserable look on his face.
“Is something wrong?” She wondered if he was sick.
“You could say that. They announced some departmental changes in advertising and marketing today. Cutbacks. I got fired, Coco. I’m out of a job, after five years.” He was taking it hard, and she felt sorry for him. His ego had taken a big hit. He didn’t earn a big salary, but it paid for all his expenses, so he didn’t need to ask her for money.
“I’m sorry,” she said gently. “You’ll find another job.” He nodded, and then halfway through his scotch, he cheered up a little.
“I guess it’ll give me more time to stay on top of what the contractors are doing at both houses.” The city house was supposed to be ready in August, and Sussex in September. But overseeing the renovations wasn’t meant to be a full-time occupation in lieu of a real job. She didn’t like the idea of his staying out of work to check on the houses. That should have been in addition to his regular employment.
“I think you ought to look for another job,” she said as politely as she could. “We have a lot of expenses with the two houses. It’s nice if you contribute where you can.”
“Does it really make a difference? What point is there to my working, with everything you have?” She didn’t like his referring to her inheritance that bluntly, or thinking of it that way. And this was what Sam had been worried about, that Nigel might decide she had so much money he didn’t need to work.
“I work. I think you should too,” Coco said quietly.
“Yours is just a token job,” he said dismissively.
“Actually, I’m starting a new job in July,” she said. He looked surprised, since she hadn’t told him yet. “Leslie is starting a business, relocating people mo
ving to London, finding them a place to live, decorating, and setting it all up so they have nothing to do when they get here. It will be both corporate and personal. She asked me to come and work for her. I’m giving notice tomorrow and I’ll start with her in two weeks.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?” He looked hurt, and turned from attacker into victim.
“We haven’t exactly been speaking to each other much. She asked me the day after you told me about Sussex.”
“Well, I think I’ll wait to look for a job until September. There’s no point job-hunting in the summer, anyway. There’s no one around,” he said, as he poured himself another scotch.
“I think you should get your CV out there now,” she said, wondering how long he would be out of work, with the excuse of the two houses they were remodeling, and how hard he would look for a new job. It worried her. She didn’t want him viewing her as the supplier of all benefits, and to become totally dependent on her. She wanted him to work too, on principle. Their situation seemed to have degenerated rapidly since they’d gotten married five months before. He stayed downstairs drinking that night after she went to bed, and he was dead to the world when she left for work the next morning. They had let him go on the spot the day before. He had cleared his desk and been escorted out of the building. That was company policy when you got fired. She knew it must have been humiliating and felt sorry for him.
Coco gave notice herself that day, and they were very nice about it. They were grateful she had stayed that long in a minor job and had been diligent.
Sam texted her that night. As he had promised, he wanted to come over. He could take some time off in the last week of June. His father was back at work, and in good shape again. Sam wanted to see her, he hadn’t been to London in nine months, which seemed like a long time to both of them.
So much had happened since then. She had married Nigel. They had bought two houses. She was changing jobs. Sam’s life was moving more slowly. He had run his father’s business on his own for the past six months. He said he had learned a lot from it. But now his father was back, doing things his way again. Sam sounded discouraged about it. He had been dating Tamar for just over a year now.
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