Country Wives

by Rebecca Shaw

  “It’s the money.” He pondered the situation for a while, during which Dan stood patiently waiting.

  “It’s worth a try? Isn’t it?”

  Tad appeared to make up his mind. “Grand lass is this one. Let’s have a go.”

  Dan took blood samples, labeled them and injected the heifer with the appropriate drug for lead poisoning. “Are these the only two young ones you have?”

  Tad nodded. “She has two house cows for her cheese making and cream for t’market and that, and these two she was hoping to bring on. We’re sheep really, tha knows.”

  “Right. I’ll be back first thing tomorrow. I should have the results when I come, so we’ll know one way or the other.” He left with a cheerful good afternoon and a touch to his cap. When he glanced back before revving up, Tad was still propping up the door frame studying his remaining heifer.

  He’d damn well have to save it or the whole day would have been a disastrous write-off. What hadn’t helped his day was encountering Letty in the mall when he’d shopped for his lunch. She’d emerged from the beauty salon right at his feet as he queued outside the sandwich bar. Even to his masculine eye there’d been a complete sea change in Letty’s appearance, and he couldn’t ignore it. Gone was the pale, fading-into-the-background Letty; her cheeks had a soft, warm bloom to them, and her slightly prominent eyes had been effectively made less so by skillful eye makeup. On her lips she had a rose-tinted lipstick, which softened them and filled them out. Her hair had been highlighted and cut into a smart bob, which flattered her face. He saw she had potential to look attractive. “Why, it’s you, Letty! You look wonderful! What have you been doing to yourself?”

  Momentarily Letty had bridled with pleasure, then recollected herself. “Don’t I usually look wonderful?”

  With anyone else but Letty that would have been a statement over which the two of them could have laughed, but not with her. “Well, I didn’t mean … it’s just that you look extra specially wonderful today. Been treating yourself?”

  “No. It was a complimentary appointment, came through the mail.”

  “Well, they’ve certainly done a fantastic job on you. You seem to be getting some surprises of late, first the flowers from an unknown admirer and now this.”

  Letty, flustered by his teasing, had blurted out, “I’ve also won a weekend for two from our local travel agent.”

  “No-o-o-o! Some people have all the luck. Where to?”

  “Our choice in Europe and we’re going to Paris. We’ve never been, you see, Colin and me.”

  She was close enough to nudge and Dan had done just that and winked. “Romantic weekend in Paris! Eh?”

  “Don’t be ridiculous. Romantic! Huh!”

  The queue had moved up and Dan had to go inside.

  Letty said, “I’ll wait, I want a word.”

  Dan had bought his sandwich and a piece of carrot cake, and came out swinging a jaunty carrier bag to find her awaiting him, arms folded, ensconced on a seat. He had stood in front of her like a small schoolboy in the headmistress’s study.

  He remembered the expression on Letty’s face when she looked up at him. “What on earth are you thinking of, encouraging this idea of selling things?”

  “As you are so keen to maximize the earnings of the practice, I would have thought it would have had your approval.”

  “Well, it hasn’t. It is diminishing. Selling stuff! As though we have to scratch about in corners looking for income. It is a professional business, not a pet shop!”

  “I see your point, but we have to move with the times and, yes, it will bring in money, but also we shall be giving a service to our clients. What’s more, we shan’t be selling junk; Miriam will see to that.”

  “Miriam! Huh!”

  Affronted by Letty’s disdain for Miriam, Dan sprang to her defense. “I happen to have a high regard for Miriam.”

  “Do you indeed? Not surprising considering how much she likes you. You’ve got her round your little finger. If you say jump,’ she’ll say ‘how high?’ ”

  Dan had struggled to control the anger he felt rising in his heart. “I wouldn’t dream of putting a lovely person like Miriam in such a position. I value her too much. However, when all is said and done, Mungo is keen; Colin approves; so does Zoe, though somewhat reluctantly; Miriam has volunteered to do all the ordering et cetera; and the girls can’t wait to get started. So I’m afraid you’ve been outmaneuvered.” He’d leaned over confidentially and, speaking softly into her ear, said, “By the way, the angry headmistress look you’ve put on doesn’t suit the new Letty.” Dan held up his lunch bag. “Must go. Busy day. You look great. Colin won’t recognize you.”

  He’d charged off toward the car park and therefore didn’t see Letty, a moment later, give herself a smile of approval at her reflection in the bookshop window.

  But what had made his day even worse was having the misfortune to bump into Lord Askew coming out of the car park. Dan touched his cap and greeted him, intending to pass by without saying more than a pleasant “Good afternoon.”

  But Lord Askew would have none of it. “How you doing, Brown? Eh?”

  “Fine, my lord. And you?”

  Lord Askew had looked beyond Dan’s shoulder and said, “All the better if I had you on board.”

  “Roan no better?”

  “Trouble is my vet can’t see what you can see. Are you certain?”

  “Ninety-nine point five percent certain. Need to examine him, of course.”

  Impatiently Lord Askew had replied, “I know that. I know that. Would you come as a second opinion? For me.”

  Dan had considered his request and, although it didn’t comply with what he had originally said, he decided someone had to give way if he was ever going to get the equine work. “I’ll phone your vet and make arrangements.”

  “Standen-Briggs. Giles. As one gentleman to another, thank you. I make no promises mind.”

  “No promises.”

  There were people in Barleybridge that afternoon who witnessed the handshake between the two of them and paused to wonder why on earth the new vet and that old basket Lord Askew could be doing such a thing. But they were, because they’d seen them, and Lord Askew had looked well pleased.

  Dan, reviewing his day, had not been quite as pleased, but felt he’d made a significant step forward. He was picking up his things prior to leaving for home and a night on call when he heard Kate saying she must get off or she’d miss the next bus. “I’ll give you a lift if you like, Kate. Car off the road?”

  “It is. I have a nasty feeling it might be terminal.”

  “Well, all cars do reach that stage eventually, not worth the repair.”

  “I would be grateful, but won’t it be out of your way?”

  “Frankly, yes, it will, but I’ve had such a dreadful day some pleasant company would be welcome.”

  “I’m feeling flush tonight. Shall we stop for a drink on the way? My treat.” She looked at him and thought what a pity it was that he lived alone; as Mia would say, he’d make someone a good husband.

  “That would be nice.”

  They chatted about this and that, finished their drinks and when Dan offered to buy them another, Kate accepted because she was enjoying herself so much, listening to tales of Dan’s exploits in the Middle East. He dug in his wallet for a note, moaned that he’d forgotten to call at the ATM and might not actually have enough cash to pay for two drinks, and finally dragged out a crumpled note which looked as though it hadn’t seen the light of day for some considerable time. Dan smoothed it out, saying “I hope you don’t think that’s a sign that I’m mean with my money. I don’t normally have to pry notes out of my wallet.”

  He headed off to the bar and, as Kate watched him go, she saw he’d dropped a photograph on the floor. She picked it up and thought, “Wowww!”

  It was of a girl, a natural beauty, who positively sizzled sex appeal. Her personality came right off the picture and zonked you in the eye. She turn
ed it over and saw the words “Rose. At home.” She had the kind of face Kate would have given the world for. The house behind her, well! If that was “at home,” Kate could have done with being on her way there right now. It was just how she imagined the wealthy lived on the East Coast of the States. Such style. She guessed there’d be a pool the size of a lake, bathrooms galore, a kitchen to die for and … but Dan was coming back so she laid it on the table. He put down the drinks and saw the photo.

  “You dropped it on the floor when you pulled out the ten-pound note. I couldn’t help but look. I’m sorry.”

  Dan looked at it but didn’t speak. He left it lying there and it made for awkwardness between them—Kate embarrassed; Dan lost in thought. He picked up his orange juice, and the ice beat a tattoo in the glass. Kate sipped her drink, outfaced by his heavy silence—so heavy it was almost palpable. She thought, If this silence lasts another minute, I shall die. Who the blazes is she to upset him like this? Mind you …

  The minute passed, and suddenly Dan picked up the picture and stored it away in his wallet. “Someone I knew in the US of A. Ever been?”

  “No. Is it nice?”

  He downed his juice in one go and stood up. “Nice isn’t a big enough word to describe it. Go there some time. It’s amazing, larger than life. With your sense of humor you’d have a ball. I’m ready to go. Have you finished?”

  Kate gulped down her drink and stood up, glad to be leaving.

  He chatted about something and nothing all the way home, and she wished she could take on some of the burden of trying to keep normality between them but she couldn’t. She bet that girl in the photograph would have coped wonderfully well. No crippling embarrassment for her, oh no! She’d simply have sparkled a little, and the difficult moment would have slipped away. When they reached her house, Kate made to get out, happy to be escaping, but Dan insisted he open her door for her and wouldn’t leave until she was safely inside.

  “Goodnight and thanks for the lift.”

  “My pleasure, Kate.”

  Kate went in to find Mia worried. “He said he’d be back about six and it’s nearly eight. Do you think your dad’s all right?”

  Chapter

  • 9 •

  They waited until half past nine, growing more and more anxious as the minutes passed. Kate adopted the role of placid acceptance that Gerry could have met someone, or broken down, or gone for a drink, or got held up at the office, or was taking someone out for a meal to help push some deal through, but at bottom, as the seconds ticked away, she had begun to grow exceedingly anxious. “After all, Mia, he’s been late before.”

  “But before, he’s always rung and let me know. He knows how I worry.”

  “Well, don’t. He’ll be here.” With relief Kate remembered his meetings. “I know. It’ll be a model railway meeting, and he’s forgotten to say.”

  Mia looked relieved. “Of course! They’re always on a Thursday and it’s Thursday. Honestly, I am stupid.” She stood up and cheerfully began to fill the kettle. “He’ll be ready for this. You know how he talks himself to a standstill when he goes.” She glanced at the clock. “He’ll be in any minute now, you’ll see.”

  Kate occupied herself writing a letter to a school friend, but she’d written four sides and her father still hadn’t come home. She felt as though a cannonball had replaced her heart. A terrible feeling of desolation came over her.

  Mia asked her whom she was writing to, and she couldn’t answer. Looking down at the letter, she hadn’t the vaguest idea to whom it was addressed. Had she a screw loose? Was this how it affected you? Unable to answer the simplest question? Kate looked up at Mia and saw reflected in her eyes the fright she herself felt. “I …”

  Mia took advantage of Kate’s pause to say, “You feel like I do? There really is something wrong, isn’t there?”

  “Of course there isn’t. Honestly, Mia, if you haven’t got something to worry about, you find something. You know Dad; he’ll be fine.”

  “You don’t sound very convinced.”

  “Well, I am. Honestly. I am. He’s probably going to come rolling home in a taxi.”

  “Kate! Gerry’s never the worse for drink.”

  “Actually that’s not quite true, is it? I can remember the time he went to that reunion …”

  “That was different.”

  “And when he won Salesman of the Year. Remember that? How you laughed.”

  “Well, that was different too. He deserved to get drunk. He wouldn’t drink and drive, though, would he? He’s strict about that, Gerry is. Isn’t he?”

  “Very.” Kate looked down at her letter and hadn’t the heart to write anymore. She closed the writing pad and pushed it away. “Look, we’re both of us being ridiculous. Make the tea. I bet he’s here before you’ve poured it.”

  But he wasn’t, and Kate had eaten two chocolate biscuits and drunk two cups of tea, and still he hadn’t arrived. They heard a car and looked at each other, embarrassed at having been so concerned. But it wasn’t Gerry; it was Lance from next door on late shift.

  “If we ring the police, they’ll think we’re crackers. After all, it’s only eleven. They’ll laugh and be tempted to say he’s having a night out on the town.”

  Mia was shocked. “Gerry! A night out on the tiles!”

  “Yes, but they don’t know Dad, do they, like we do? They don’t know he doesn’t. Plenty of men do, you see.”

  Determined to be reasonable, Mia said, “When it gets to midnight, I’m ringing the police. You go to bed.”

  “I shan’t.”

  “Did you hear me? You go to bed.”

  “I shan’t. It’s my dad.”

  “It’s my husband. Go to bed.”

  “You only want me to go so I won’t see how worried you are. Well, we’ll share it. I’m not a child.”

  “No.”

  That cannonball in her chest had grown larger. Mia was quite right; her dad would have let them know if he could. He knew how Mia worried. So why couldn’t he let them know? “We are fools. I’ll ring his mobile.”

  “Of course. We are idiots. He’s never without it.”

  But the mobile rang and rang. So Dad had been separated from his phone. Why? She left a text message for him. “He’ll have left it in his car, and he’ll be in the meeting, or the pub. Let’s stop worrying. Dad knows how to take care of himself. Always has.”

  Mia thought a moment and then replied, “Of course you’re right. Well, I’m off to bed. We’ll look silly if we both sit up and he rolls in, fit as a fiddle and wondering what the fuss is about. You use the bathroom first. I’ll tidy up.”

  But Mia didn’t go to bed. She sat downstairs, desperately trying to read the novel that had been recommended by a neighbor. It was the story of a woman who’d had more crises in her life than seemed possible, but she was rising above it all and triumphing in the end. Losing three husbands in an assortment of incidents which stretched the imagination to its limits became more than Mia could believe, so she snapped the book shut thirty pages before the end and decided to read no more. By now it was half past one. She heard a step on the stairs. “Kate?”

  “You said you were going to bed.”

  “Well, I got reading. It’s a load of rubbish, though, so I’m off to bed now.”

  “Can’t sleep for wondering.”

  “You’ll be cold. Go and get your dressing gown, and we’ll have a cup of Ovaltine or something.”

  “I’m all right. I’ll make it.”

  They sat until two o’clock, avoiding conversation and especially avoiding looking each other in the eye.

  Mia got up to wash the mugs. “I’ll ring first thing in the morning.”

  “Who will you ring?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Hospitals?”

  Mia nodded.

  “Police?”

  She nodded again, not trusting herself to speak.

  “Shall I?”

  “No. I’m his wife.” Mia took a
deep breath and confessed to her fears: “It’s a nightmare I’m not brave enough to face.”

  “We’ll face it together. You and me.”

  Mia turned from the sink and gave her half a smile. “Let’s be honest with each other: something must have happened to him.”

  “Of course it hasn’t. What is it they say? ‘No news is good news.’ ”

  “That’s right. He’ll be parked up somewhere because he’s realized he’s too tired to drive. He’s fallen asleep in his car by mistake, hasn’t he?”

  Kate had too much common sense to have any truck with ghosts or psychic something or others, but the moment Mia said that, it triggered the idea in her mind that somewhere he was doing just that, except he wasn’t asleep. He was dead. She shuddered.

  “I said you’d be cold. Go on, go back to bed. You’ve work tomorrow.”

  DAWN found the two of them sleeping with their heads resting on their arms on the kitchen table. Kate woke, panicking, puzzled why she was sitting in the kitchen and not in bed. Dad! She got up, stiff with cold. She stretched and felt her bones creak. Dad! How could she have slept? Guilt sidled through her veins. “Mia, are you awake? We’ve slept in.”

  “Ring up. Please.”

  “I’ll have a drink of water first; I’m so dry.” As she put down the empty glass on the draining board, the doorbell rang.

  Mia, still fully dressed, stalked like an automaton down the narrow hall. Kate stood in the kitchen thinking, It’ll be the milkman wanting his money. It must be. Please let it be the milkman wanting his money. Please. It’s Friday, so it must be him. She heard Mia invite whoever it was inside. So it wasn’t the milkman. She went to stand in the kitchen doorway and, looking down the hallway, saw two police officers; and just before she fainted, she heard one of them say, “Mrs. Howard? … found … on the hard shoulder … sitting in the car … Unfortunately, he’d passed away … Apparently natural causes. I’m so very sorry.”

  • • •

  THE whole ghastly shrieking nightmare put the two of them into a permanent state of shock. Mia formally identified him, and once his body was released after the postmortem, they rigidly went through the process of organizing the funeral.