The Affair

by Bunty Avieson

  But he did care about his third share in Wilde Wines. He had no idea how much it was worth but felt pretty sure it would be at least three or four times the $250,000 of his letter of credit. Unlimited liability meant they could take it all. Every cent he owned. They had no obligation to leave him with even the clothes he was standing up in. How would he ever tell his father? He may as well tell him he had gambled his family inheritance in a poker game. That’s how it would appear to Frederick Wilde.

  James came out of the study and placed his briefcase by the front door. He had many questions for Felix tomorrow. There were so many things he still didn’t understand. The feeling of being in over his head had returned. He wondered who Nina was talking to on the telephone at this hour. Or, more correctly, who was talking to Nina. She stood with her profile to him, looking out across the bay, listening and smiling.

  ‘All right, Mum. Give my love to Dad. I should go now. It’s quite late here.’

  James watched as she replaced the receiver, smiling to herself. ‘Was that Canada?’ he asked.

  Nina jumped. She hadn’t heard him come out of the study. ‘Yes. I was just chatting to Mum.’

  James’s face darkened.

  ‘She said one of the dogs has just had puppies –’

  James cut in. ‘How long did you talk for?’

  Nina looked baffled. She didn’t understand his tone or the question. ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘How long did you talk for?’

  ‘I don’t know. The usual. Half an hour. Maybe more.’

  James heart sank. He didn’t want to snap at Nina. It wasn’t her fault they were broke. He had always encouraged her to phone her family in Canada as often as she wanted. But that was then. Pre-crisis. It seemed a lifetime ago. He chose his words carefully.

  ‘Please, can you go easy on the calls to Canada? They are expensive and we need to try and save a bit. Sorry, love.’ He gave a wan smile.

  Nina felt stung. There it was again. No money. She heard her father telling her again, ‘No, Nina. We have no money.’ How that had hurt. James had unwittingly touched that tender spot.

  It also confused Nina. James had always been so generous. It was part of what made her feel safe. He used to take such delight in letting her have whatever she wanted. Now it was suddenly a problem for her to phone home. What was going on? Why was he doing this? Why was he being such a bully? She felt powerless and realised how little control she had over her life now. James had the purse strings and he could dictate what she did. How had her mother known it would become like this? At that moment Nina hated James.

  When he came to bed Nina was turned away from him. Her bedside light was out. The message was clear. Usually it didn’t matter what had gone on in their individual days or how busy they had been, at night they would always share a kiss and a cuddle before sleep.

  James could have tapped his wife gently on the shoulder and poured out his problems. But it didn’t occur to him. This was his problem and until he had figured out a way to fix it, it would stay that way. Nina also could have reacted differently, asking James to talk, to open up about whatever was worrying him. But fear and resentment had closed her heart.

  So they lay there, rigid and separate, as far apart from each other as they could be without falling out of the bed.

  Wednesday, 23 January, 1991

  Nina looked at the little ball of fluff sitting on her foot. He was trembling and whimpering, his eyes huge and round as they gazed up at her. Nina’s heart was lost in an instant. Around her puppies of all shapes, sizes, breeds and ages rolled over each other in a cacophony of noise and colour. Nina ceased to notice any of them, turning all her attention to the one gently chewing her toe. She leaned down and picked up the little white fur ball, cradling it gently in her hands. It was so tiny, she thought it would fit into the palm of one hand.

  ‘Oh, you poor little thing,’ she crooned.

  The owner of the dogs’ home watched from a distance. Good, she thought. That would be the little bichon frise gone at last. Not a popular choice. Most people who came to Ellie’s Puppy Palace in suburban Oatley were looking for a family dog. Labradors were the most popular. Crossed with anything. Everyone, it seemed, had fond memories of a favourite lab-cross from their childhood and wanted one for their own children. That was fine by Ellie. Plenty of those were brought in. But it made it hard for her to find homes for the rest and that made Ellie sad. You didn’t run a not-for-profit dogs’ home without having a huge soft heart and love for all things canine.

  Ellie labelled people according to dog breeds. She did it instantly and instinctively. And once she had made her call, she was immovable. This smartly dressed young woman with the large, sad eyes and short boyish hair reminded Ellie of a dachshund. Small, sleek, even-tempered and loyal. She liked dachshunds, so it was meant as a compliment to Nina.

  Ellie waited for Nina to look around for her before she went over. She would give her as much time as she needed to make her choice. Nina cradled the little white bundle, stroking its thin body through the mass of fur. It stopped trembling, responding to the warmth and security of Nina’s arms.

  ‘Would you like to come home with me?’ she whispered.

  The little dog nestled further into the crook of her arm, licking traces of sweat off Nina’s skin.

  She smiled across at Ellie. ‘I’ll take this one,’ she said.

  Getting the puppy home hadn’t been a problem. He had sat in the passenger seat watching Nina while she drove. Nina popped him easily into her handbag for the trip up in the lift. And once inside the apartment he had curled up happily on the couch where he watched her move around the room, his huge plaintive eyes melting her heart more with every moment.

  By the time James came home the little puppy, which Nina was now calling Tiger, had relaxed enough to sniff around the apartment. Nina had shown him to the kitty-litter tray on the balcony, though he had been disinclined to use it. She was cleaning up the latest little puddle when she heard James’s key in the front door.

  She shut Tiger in the bathroom and greeted James.

  ‘You look exhausted,’ she said.

  ‘I am,’ said James.

  He had spent the past hour at the pub nearest his office with Felix, going over strategies to deal with Lloyd’s. None of them looked good. He sank heavily onto the couch.

  ‘I’ve got a surprise,’ said Nina. ‘Stay there.’

  She reappeared with a bundle of white fur tucked into the crook of her arm.

  It took James a moment to register what Nina was holding. At first he thought it was inanimate, some sort of fluff-covered ball, but it moved its head and James could see a pair of huge brown eyes.

  ‘What is it?’ he asked.

  ‘A puppy. A bichon frise,’ replied Nina.

  James stared at it blankly. ‘A dog?’

  Nina nodded, smiling. She sat down next to James so he could see Tiger properly.

  James moved back. ‘Why is he here?’

  Nina looked James squarely in the eye. ‘I bought him,’ she replied.

  James stared back at Nina. She wasn’t minding him for someone. She had bought him. This wasn’t making sense to James’s tired brain. There was an edge to Nina’s voice that made him wary. ‘You bought a dog?’ he said.

  Nina nodded, keeping her eyes firmly on his. They were sending a message. She was tense and defiant. James supposed it was because she didn’t discuss it with him before buying the dog. She was expecting him to object to her foolishness, he thought.

  ‘His name is Tiger.’

  Nina sat on the edge of the couch, leaning forward toward him, holding his gaze. She didn’t offer the dog to James, holding Tiger possessively in her own arms, against her chest.

  Nina hadn’t really planned to buy a dog. She had been sitting at work feeling bored and miserable when she decided to give herself the afternoon off. She told her boss she had a toothache, then somehow found herself amongst a bunch of puppies at the lost dogs’ home, a
nd next thing she knew she was bringing one home.

  That was what she was telling James.

  There was a lump in her throat and she felt like she wanted to cry. The effort of keeping her real emotions from erupting was causing her stress.

  The dog was a call for help, though she couldn’t articulate that. It was a plea to her husband for his attention. Nina was lonely. That was the message.

  She held the dog tightly to her while she waited for James to respond. A few options ran through James’s mind. He didn’t want a dog. Dogs belonged on farms, not in small inner-city apartments. He hated yappy dogs. Nina’s manner seemed to be double-edged. James didn’t want a fight. Was this some continuation of last night? He couldn’t remember what that was all about, just the coldness of Nina’s back when he came to bed.

  James felt the muscles in his neck spasm. He was tired. He just wanted to sit down and relax, switch off his brain for a few hours, then fall into bed. He wasn’t up to the mental gymnastics of a fight with Nina, with anybody.

  ‘Okay, Nina,’ he said. His tone was neither cold nor warm, just resigned. ‘If you want a puppy I guess you’ve got yourself a puppy.’ With that James stood up and made his way into his study.

  Nina stared coldly at the door as it closed behind him. She stared at it for many minutes, her face a hard mask. Then the tears rolled slowly down her cheeks, falling onto Tiger’s silky fur.

  Australia Day

  Saturday, 26 January 1991

  James and Nina drove to the Hunter Valley with Tiger asleep on Nina’s lap. James had agreed, under sufferance, to take the puppy along, tossing a box and a rug onto the back seat. But Nina had insisted on nursing him. He sat in her arms all the way, seemingly helpless and content, a constant irritant to James.

  The dog had become almost physically attached to Nina. Wherever she was in the small apartment, so was Tiger, looking up at her adoringly. It seemed to Nina that he would have been happy to share his affection with James but he knew instinctively it wouldn’t be welcome. James repelled him with every look and bodily gesture. That made Tiger nervous so when James was around the dog stayed closer to Nina, which irritated James even further.

  The dog had become the physical manifestation of the unspoken tension that sat between James and Nina and, though they would not admit it, they each secretly welcomed the diversion. Neither wanted to address the gulf that was opening between them. They had too much going on elsewhere in their lives.

  James was tense about spending the day in the company of his father. It was Australia Day and he had toyed with various excuses as to why he and Nina could not attend the traditional family lunch, but he couldn’t bring himself to use any of them. It would disappoint his mother too much.

  He knew how it would be. Frederick and Mark would talk business and he would contribute and play along as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened, as if the business’s major concern was whether the cabernet grape in the east field had received too much sun. Not whether he had lost his share of Wilde Wines in an investment he had told nobody about. It was possible Frederick Wilde might simply kill him when he knew. James could not imagine telling him. He wasn’t about to tell him today. Of that he was certain. It meant continuing to live what he felt was a lie – that everything was all right when it wasn’t. It was a disaster. But he wouldn’t say anything until he was sure he understood all the ramifications and that he had exhausted every possible way out before he would say a word to anyone. He thought that was the right thing to do. A wave of self-loathing washed over him and he clutched at the steering wheel. His grip stayed tight for the duration of the drive. For the rest of the day the muscles in his hands ached and he wondered why.

  Nina was relieved that James seemed so preoccupied. It suited her. She stroked Tiger’s fur and watched the countryside speed by. She didn’t want to speak to him. She was angry and hurt. She was thinking of her life. It seemed sad and lonely and stretched ahead of her, years and years of living in this alien country without friends, trapped in a marriage with a man who didn’t care. She stole a look at James’s profile. He was frowning at the road. He seemed so far away from her. He had retreated somewhere she couldn’t reach. Where had he gone? Why had he gone? She missed him.

  She thought of her Italian count. Being around him made her feel so good. How did he do that? Just a hint of that lopsided grin and she was smiling. She couldn’t help herself. She wondered what he was doing right at that moment. Pottering about on his boat? Wandering through Rushcutters Bay Park? Buying coffee?

  Out of the corner of his eye James noticed Nina smiling to herself as she patted Tiger. He felt guilty. He had been so negative about the dog. Annoying little thing that it was. All fur and saliva and high-pitched yapping. But he obviously made Nina happy. She looked so far away and dreamy. And he had been so bad tempered. He smiled at her and she smiled back.

  *

  It was a lovely warm day and the family started with pre-lunch drinks on the verandah. The bougainvillea was in full bloom, a riot of hot pink entwined around the wooden railing. James, Nina and Amanda sat in huge wicker armchairs with faded floral cushions, looking out across the vines. They watched as Mark walked the two little boys around the rows, trying to tire them so they would be quiet through lunch. Patty was inside, putting the last-minute touches to the cold buffet and Frederick was still in his office, a converted shed attached to the tasting barn.

  Nina tried to make polite conversation, turning to Amanda and asking if her week had been busy. Amanda looked at Nina thoughtfully, gave a patronising little smile, then turned to James.

  ‘I understand you allowed the Lotus Bar to order four cases of the 1990 Premium Shiraz. Is that right?’

  Nina groaned inwardly. Amanda was in bitch mode, not sisterly mode. How silly of her not to have picked it. Nina hoped, for a brief instant, that James might step in, come to her rescue. But of course he didn’t. Instead he seemed to give the question his full consideration.

  ‘Yes, I did. And as a direct result of that our chardonnay was mentioned in two very favourable restaurant reviews …’

  Nina sighed. She didn’t care. Let them talk business. She wouldn’t know anything about their precious Premium Shiraz. Nor did she care. ‘Come on, Tiger,’ she said. ‘Let’s go and see if Patty would like some help.’

  James looked up at Nina as she went past. His face looked stricken. Nina was surprised. It was the same helpless look he would give her when someone cornered him at a party and he wanted Nina to come and rescue him. No way, thought Nina to herself. You are on your own.

  Patty asked Nina to prepare a salad. As she shredded the lettuce she watched James and Amanda through the window.

  James’s arms were crossed and he kept staring either at his shoes or out at the vines. He wouldn’t allow Amanda eye contact. Amanda, on the other hand, was leaning forward in her chair, her long bare legs crossed at the thigh, the skirt falling teasingly high.

  Nina chuckled to herself. ‘Sorry, honey, it ain’t going to work.’ She amused herself imagining the conversation they were having.

  ‘Hi, look at me, I’m Amanda. No man can resist me.’

  ‘I’m sorry Amanda, I don’t think so. Too much peroxide for my taste, I’m afraid.’

  ‘But James, how can you say such a thing? I’m gorgeous. Sex on legs.’

  ‘No, Amanda. You’re not. You’re a shallow, rude, mean person. And you have fat ankles.’

  Nina giggled aloud. She felt a twinge for James. He was so obviously uncomfortable. She sliced through the lettuce, picking out stray snails. It was a huge iceberg, fresh from Patty’s vegie patch.

  Nina realised with surprise that James was always uncomfortable around Amanda. She had never put it together before. And yet he would not say a bad word about her. When Nina tried to complain about her mercurial sister-in-law, James would just shrug and say ‘Oh, that’s Amanda.’ And the topic would be closed for discussion.

  It was the same with any discussio
n of his family. Nina had tried to gently coax James to open up about his brother, but he would not be drawn. Everything about the Wilde family seemed complicated. Or that was how they made it. Nina thought of her own family – simple, mad and erratic. But she could cope with that. At least everything was out in the open. With the Wilde family Nina often felt that she was wading through thick treacle.

  Amanda fitted in so much better than she did. Nina supposed it was because she was a local girl. She shared their history. And she understood the business, as she was always at great pains to point out to Nina. Until she had children Amanda had worked alongside the family on tastings and door sales. She knew her merlot from her malbec. She was the perfect addition to the Wilde family. It was Nina who was the outsider.

  Nina watched as Amanda leaned even closer to James, placing her hand on his arm. Her face was intent and serious, as if she were explaining something very important. Nina was annoyed. That woman, she thought, thinks she is such an expert she has an opinion on everything. How dare she tell James how to do his job. And she couldn’t sit in a chair and have a conversation like a normal person. She had to drape herself all over him. Nina studied Amanda’s face. She was very beautiful. Much as she disliked her she had to concede that. Large almond-shaped blue eyes, full mouth, high cheekbones and blonde hair that fell about her face in perfect waves. She continued talking at James, her face just inches from his.

  James’s reaction was a surprise. Nina expected him to be polite, like he usually was. Instead he leapt out of his chair, his face stormy. He turned on Amanda, his body language aggressive and threatening. Although he was a few feet away from her, she cowered visibly, her face shocked. Nina wasn’t sure what she was witnessing.

  Patty returned to the kitchen and started speaking to her. Nina was frozen to the spot, unable to turn away from the scene on the verandah. Patty didn’t seem to notice that Nina didn’t reply and disappeared through the swinging doors, ferrying another tray of food to the dining room.