The Would-Be Wife

by Annie Wilkinson

  ‘Playboy? Cut price grandad, more like. She should press a few of his wrinkles out while she’s got the iron handy,’ Brenda said, with a chuckle. ‘You’ve got to hand it to him, though, he’s got it well organised, has Gordon!’ Her voice held a touch of admiration.

  ‘Not half. “Who wants a man nobody else wants?” ’ Lynn quoted. ‘Can you beat that? I don’t understand men, she says. I reckon she thinks I ought to be flattered that her son’s bit-on-the-side came charging here from Leeds to move into my house.’

  ‘Maybe it’s her that doesn’t understand marriage,’ Brenda said, looking meaningfully up at Anthony as he placed a glass of Advocaat and lemonade beside her, complete with a cherry on a cocktail stick. ‘It’s a two-way street, as far as I’m concerned, so don’t you get any funny ideas, Anthony.’

  ‘Give us a chance, we’re not even married yet,’ he grinned, with a wink at Lynn as he set the rest of the drinks down. ‘I hope Alec’s not going to be long, or his beer will be flat.’

  ‘She doesn’t understand decency or loyalty, either. I was too slow. I ought to have told her there can’t be many grandmothers who’d make the trollop who wrecked their grandson’s home welcome in their house, half an hour after they’ve found out about her! That shows how much she cares about Graham’s marriage vows!’

  Alec walked in, and the conversation soon turned to morning suits and wedding protocol.

  ‘I’m not looking forward to giving the best man’s speech,’ Alec said. ‘I’d rather be the bridegroom. I wish it were us, walking down the aisle in three weeks’ time.’

  ‘I couldn’t walk down the aisle, even if I were free,’ Lynn said, the thought just dawning on her. ‘I’d be a divorcee. If I ever get married again, it will have to be in a Registry Office. I’ve had it for the white frock business. You’d better get yourself a virgin bride if you want to trip down the aisle, Alec, and do it properly.’

  Alec’s eyebrows twitched fleetingly upwards and a smile spread over his face. ‘I’d rather do it improperly, with you,’ he said. ‘In fact, that would suit me down to the ground, Just us, the registrar and two witnesses.’

  ‘Unless death had you parted,’ Brenda said. ‘You could have a church wedding then.’

  ‘That’s an idea,’ Anthony said, swiping his index finger across his neck, cut-throat fashion.

  ‘A bit over the top, though,’ Alec laughed, ‘even to get a church wedding. No, we’ll wait for the divorce and then book the Registry Office.’

  He seemed absolutely sincere. Such keenness, Lynn thought, with sudden misgivings. Just like Graham, at the start of their courtship . . . this is what I want, and I want it now! He’d swept her along with him – and look how it had ended. And here was Alec, a year younger than her and as green as grass, galloping them down the path towards matrimony fast enough to break their necks. He could have no idea what marriage and bringing up a child was all about – and somebody else’s child, at that. When the reality of that hit him, he’d run a mile.

  ‘How long do you reckon it’ll take?’ Brenda asked.

  Lynn shrugged. ‘I dunno. You have to wait six weeks after the decree nisi before you can apply for the decree absolute.’

  ‘We know that, but how long’s the decree nisi going to take?’ Alec insisted.

  ‘I don’t know. I suppose it depends how long it takes to get it into court. They’re waiting on Graham sending some forms back.’

  ‘You might be waiting forever, if he’s decided he doesn’t want to go through with it,’ Brenda said.

  ‘Better see your solicitors and make them gee him up a bit, Lynn,’ Alec urged.

  ‘What’s the rush? It’s not a matter of life and death, is it? And a nice long wait will give you plenty of time to think about what you might be letting yourself in for.’

  Like a four-year-old who’s aiming to get us both back with his father in the old house, she thought, and a woman who doesn’t know what she wants, except that she doesn’t want to pour years of hope and energy into another failed marriage. Her priority was to get that midwifery qualification and then a decently paying job, to give her enough independence to go it alone if she had to. That was the only thing that was clear in Lynn’s mind.

  ‘I don’t need time to think,’ Alec said quietly. ‘I knew what I wanted the first time we met.’

  Lynn felt a stab of guilt. They would be sailing at midnight, and here she was, spoiling his last hours on shore. She couldn’t send him back to sea doubting and disappointed, it might prey on his mind the whole trip. She put her hand on his and gave it a squeeze. ‘I’ll ring the solicitor’s tomorrow,’ she promised.

  Chapter 18

  Lynn rang as soon as she got home after an early shift the following day.

  ‘It’s the acknowledgement of service that’s holding things up,’ she told her mother as she replaced the receiver. ‘Graham should have sent it back to the court within a month at the outside. They were sent at the end of May, and it’s the middle of July. He says we’ll have to ask the court to send a bailiff round to serve him with another copy of the divorce papers – or we can get a process server to do it,’ Lynn said.

  ‘So what does that tell you? That Graham doesn’t want a divorce, obviously! He’d have sent it like a shot, if he had. He wants you and Simon back.’

  ‘Hmm, well, it’s not only what he wants now, is it?’ Lynn said. ‘There’s what I want to consider, as well.’

  ‘There’s what our Simon wants, as well. What about him?’ her mother asked. ‘Does he get any consideration?’

  ‘Our Simon’s just a child, and he’ll be all right. I’ll look after him.’

  ‘I’m looking after him as well, in case you’ve forgotten. And boys need a father, and if you get divorced it won’t be long before Graham gets entangled with another woman, and when that happens he won’t be round here three times a week to take his lad for his tea, I can tell you that. And if he gets any more bairns he might lose interest in our Simon altogether.’

  ‘He’ll manage without him, then. He’s got my dad, and our Anthony.’

  ‘A grandfather’s not a dad, and our Anthony will soon have bairns of his own, by the look of things. Anyway, fishermen aren’t much cop as fathers, they’re never there. They’re not much better as fathers than they are as husbands.’

  ‘I love my dad! He was a great dad!’ Lynn exclaimed, her colour rising and eyes smouldering as she sprang to her father’s defence. ‘He still is, and I’m just glad he’s not here to hear you talking about him being no use as a husband!’

  ‘I’m not saying he was no use; I’m saying he’d have been more use if he’d been here. And our Simon loves his dad – he talks about him non-stop when you’re at work.’

  ‘He can see his dad as much as he wants. I’ve never stopped him seeing his dad.’

  ‘He won’t see him; that’s what I’m trying to tell you. And seeing his dad’s not the same as living with him, is it? How would you have liked it, if me and your dad had got divorced?’

  ‘I wouldn’t have liked it, obviously.’

  ‘Well, spare a thought for Simon, then. “I want to go and live with my daddy, in the house with the swing in the garden.” He never leaves that theme alone.’

  ‘Well, I’m afraid he’s had the house with the swing in the garden,’ Lynn retorted.

  ‘I know what’s wrong with you,’ her mother burst out. ‘Alec McCauley. You’d better get yourself on the pill if that’s the case.’

  ‘I’m not going on the bloody pill! I’ve got no reason to go on the pill,’ Lynn said, almost stung into adding: and stop sticking your nose into my life, will you? She checked herself just in time. There was something so touchy and excitable about her mother lately that Lynn wouldn’t have put it past her to turn round and tell her to look after Simon herself. That would spell the ruin of her hopes of getting on the Midwives’ Register, and that wasn’t the end of it. She would need her mother for a long time to come if she wanted to work.


  ‘I think you should hold off on this divorce for a bit,’ her mother said. ‘Think about our Simon.’

  ‘You mean I should put up with Graham and his other women for Simon’s sake.’

  ‘He’s only had one other woman since he married you, and he wasn’t long getting shot of her – and seeing as she lives in Leeds, he’s not likely to be seeing any more of her, is he? Just think very carefully before you throw everything away, that’s all.’

  ‘What makes you think he got shot of her? What makes you think it wasn’t her that got shot of him?’

  ‘Because that’s the way it’s always been with Graham, from what I’ve heard. It was always him that finished it.’

  ‘Well, it’s going to be me that finishes it this time. And if you’re talking about the house, I’ve already thrown it away. It’s gone. I wouldn’t live there again for a king’s ransom.’

  Her mother shook her head. ‘A beautiful house like that! And his wages! He’s got a brilliant job and he’s just had another rise – you could be set up for life. You’ll never be able to get a house of your own on what you can earn . . . certainly not like the one you had with Graham. Our Simon loved that garden.’

  Lynn was suddenly sick of the subject, and had no intention of discussing it any further. ‘I think I’ll go down to our Margaret’s, and have an hour with her,’ she said.

  ‘Well, you’ll have to take our Simon with you, then. I’m going out.’

  Lynn took Simon with her, complete with his pyjamas. He could get bathed with Margaret’s four, and when she got back to her mother’s all she would have to do is put him to bed.

  Margaret was sitting on a dining chair on the pavement outside her tiny ‘sham four’ braiding a trawl net, with two lengths of twine held fast under the sash window. She favoured her mother in looks, with fair hair and blue eyes, and a figure kept trim by constant activity. Lynn watched her for a while, thinking how rough and sore the work had made her fingers. She had often felt guilty when with Margaret, being so much better off with the bigger, better house and the more successful husband. It had all seemed so unfair.

  ‘I had to get away from my mother for a bit. She’s driving me mad!’ she exclaimed, as soon as Simon had run off to play street games with his cousins. One sweeping glance inside the open door showed her the state of the house – hearth not swept, Jim’s best suit still hanging on one of the door-frames, his shoes still unpolished, and a pile of his unwashed shirts, socks and underwear decorating the top of the twin-tub washing machine, just visible through the kitchen door.

  ‘He sailed this morning, then,’ she said.

  ‘Before six, and my stomach’s still churning. I used to envy you, being married to somebody who’s not a fisherman. You never had any worries he might not come back,’

  Until Graham’s affair had brought her right back to her mother’s house and her roots, Lynn had almost forgotten the bag of nerves Margaret used to be every time Jim sailed. ‘It’s the middle of July! I don’t know what you’re worried about; there’s twenty-three hours of daylight up there now. The twilight greets the dawn; it never gets dark!’ she soothed, and added with a touch of irony: ‘and the temperature’s all the way up to freezing! Just think of it! And there’s one thing to be said for being married to a fisherman, you’ll never get phone calls from some bloody woman he met while he was away, will you? You’ll never have that.’

  ‘I wouldn’t anyway, with Jim; he’s not the type,’ Margaret said, getting up and stretching her shoulders. ‘I’ll just have a little break, and make some tea.’

  It was beginning to grate on Lynn’s nerves, the way some women insisted that their men were ‘home birds’, or ‘not the type’. Not the type who had much appeal for other women, more often than not, she thought, following her sister into the tiny kitchen – or maybe not the type who are stupid enough or brazen enough to get found out.

  ‘The divorce job’s stopped until Graham sends the acknowledgement of service back, so my mother’s telling me he doesn’t want a divorce,’ she said.

  Margaret turned to face her. ‘I bet he doesn’t. It’s probably hit him like a ton of bricks, the thought of losing you and Simon, and the house and everything. But what about you, Lynn? Do you want a divorce, really? Wouldn’t you be better off patching it up? You had everything, with Graham.’

  ‘I ought to think about Simon and everything I’m going to lose, you mean.’

  ‘Well, what’s wrong with that?’

  ‘You sound like my mother.’

  Margaret switched the kettle on. ‘She can get on your nerves, I know, but a lot of the things she says are true. If it were me, I’d give him another chance – if he’s really sorry, I mean. Everybody deserves a second chance.’

  ‘Depends what they’ve done.’

  ‘I know, but . . .’

  ‘But Graham doesn’t want a divorce, and I ought to think about Simon, and with Graham I had everything,’ Lynn recited. ‘Yeah, I had everything. Everything but what you’ve got with Jim: a man I can trust. Graham’s destroyed that. And not only that, I’ve met someone I really like. He’s a friend of our Anthony’s.’

  ‘Alec, do you mean? But you said you’d never marry a fisherman.’

  ‘I know I did. I didn’t say I was going to marry him, I said I liked him.’

  Four laughing, shrieking boys went galloping up the staircase with Simon following after them, then charged just as quickly down again, and out into the street. Margaret went to the door. ‘Don’t go far! You’ve got half an hour, and then it’s bath and bed!’ she called, and turning to Lynn asked: ‘So what sort of liking is it, then, if it stops you going back to Graham?’

  Lynn shrugged, and Margaret looked uneasy.

  ‘What does our Simon think to this Alec?’

  ‘He thinks he’s all right.’

  ‘He’s a year younger than you, or so our Anthony says.’

  ‘That’s not much, is it? It’s not as if I’m old enough to be his grandmother.’

  ‘And he’s not our Simon’s dad.’

  ‘You don’t say!’

  Margaret bit her lip and turned away to put milk in the tea cups. ‘There’s no need to be sarcastic, Lynn. Do what you like. It’s got nothing to do with me. Take a chair outside, and you can sit beside me while I get on with the braiding. The net man will be round with his lorry early doors tomorrow, and I want to have it finished.’

  Lynn took a chair and sat outside watching Simon, who was engaged in a game of hide-and-seek with his cousins and a few other children.

  There was a stiffness between the two sisters for the following few minutes and a deathly silence on the topic of the divorce for the rest of the evening, but by the time she went home Lynn was wavering, almost convinced she should go back to Graham. Simon needed a father, and preferably his own, as Margaret had made clear.

  But if she ever did go back to Graham, she’d have to make him so sorry he ever laid eyes on Mandy that there would be no more Mandies. Genuinely, deeply sorry, she thought, striding along with Simon trotting beside her with a coat over his pyjamas. He wasn’t going to get away with passing this complete betrayal off as if it were a minor slip – and if he really meant what he said about wanting her and Simon back, he’d agree to her terms. If not, to Hell with him.

  Chapter 19

  Her mother was dolled up and ready to go out when Lynn got back home. ‘Graham’s been,’ she said. ‘He says you’ve really upset his mother.’

  ‘Oh, dear,’ said Lynn.

  ‘Sarky. Anyway, he’s told me to ask you to lay off her. None of it’s her doing, is it?’

  ‘She threw the welcome mat down for his floozie, though, didn’t she? Anyway, enjoy your night out.’

  ‘Don’t worry, I will. Your dad’s back on the morning tide.’

  Lynn’s mood lifted. ‘Good. With a bit of luck he might get home in time for the wedding after the next trip, then.’

  ‘Oh, and Graham left something for you. It’s on t
he sideboard.’

  Lynn read the tag: To My Darling Wife, from your Loving Husband, Graham.

  ‘Enough to make you retch,’ she murmured.

  Her mother was halfway out of the door. ‘What did you say?’

  ‘I said I reckon I’ll go to Fleetwood, and get to know Alec McCauley a lot better. I want to know what I’ll be missing.’

  ‘I’ve already told you what you’ll be missing – wasting the best years of your life sitting in the house on your own,’ her mother said, and was gone.

  ‘I don’t notice you sitting in the house much,’ Lynn called after her, too late to be heard.

  *

  After early shifts on their separate wards Lynn and Janet boarded the bus for the journey into Hull, and took a seat together.

  ‘Graham wants me back,’ Lynn said. ‘He never thought it would come to this, he says. He’s devastated. He can’t live without me. He says.’

  Janet leaned back in her seat, the better to look at her. ‘Can’t live without you?’ she mocked. ‘Can’t pay the mortgage without you, you mean. Maybe he was hoping Mandy would take up where you left off. He probably thought she’d chip in – and she didn’t. I reckon that’s when it all went sour, when they gave the sex a rest and got down to the nitty gritty, like who pays for what. That’s when that sort of romance usually comes to a grinding halt.’

  Lynn chuckled at the cynicism.

  Janet failed to see the joke. ‘You’ve got no help from his family, either, have you? Seeing their track record, it’s not likely they’ll be doing much to keep him on the straight and narrow, is it?’

  ‘Just the opposite, as we’ve seen,’ Lynn said. ‘I don’t think the sanctity of marriage is a big deal with Mum and Dad Brad.’

  ‘It would be a big deal if it were their Graham being made a fool of. Anyway, I’ve said enough already.’

  ‘Say on. I want to know what you think.’