Wife for Hire

by Dianne Blacklock

‘And you don’t have to panic every Spring about how you’re going to look on the beach in a swimming costume,’ Fiona added.

  ‘Forget the beach,’ Sam muttered. ‘It’s bad enough in the dressing-rooms!’

  ‘Do we always have to talk about our weight?’ Rosemary blurted suddenly.

  Everyone looked at her. Rose didn’t tend to put her opinions out there.

  ‘I mean,’ she continued, flustered by her own bravado, ‘could you imagine men sitting around talking about how big their bums are?’

  ‘No,’ said Max. ‘They’d be talking about something much more fascinating. Like football, or cars –’

  ‘Or tits,’ Liz added.

  ‘I’m just saying that we waste so much time and energy talking about it.’

  ‘She’s right you know,’ said Fiona.

  ‘Fair enough, we should make a vow,’ declared Max. ‘No diet talk.’

  ‘And no dissecting our bodies and saying how fat and ugly we are,’ added Rosemary.

  ‘And,’ Liz leaned forward over the bench, ‘anyone who picks up a piece of chocolate and says “I shouldn’t be having this” before scoffing it anyway, has to stand in the corner for the rest of the night!’

  They all drank to that. The phone started ringing.

  ‘Take everything through into the family room. I’ll just get this.’ Sam picked up the handset and stepped into the hall away from the rabble.

  ‘Hello?’

  ‘It’s me.’

  Sam felt her heart sink into her stomach. She was so angry with Jeff she could hardly speak.

  ‘Sam? Are you there?’

  ‘Yes,’ she said tightly.

  She heard him release his breath. ‘Sam, about your message. I didn’t say those things to Jess. She must have misunderstood.’

  ‘She seemed pretty clear this afternoon.’

  ‘Would you mind telling me exactly what she said, if you can remember?’ His voice had an unfamiliar tone. It was almost deferential.

  Sam cleared her throat. ‘She said it wasn’t fair that they have to lose you because I don’t want you to live here any more. She said you would stay if I let you.’

  ‘I didn’t say that –’

  ‘Well what did you say Jeff, to give her that idea?’ Sam was becoming impatient. ‘You must have said something!’

  He didn’t respond.

  ‘Jeff?’

  ‘Sorry, I was thinking.’ He sighed. ‘I remember she asked why I couldn’t sleep in the spare room. I said it wouldn’t be fair on you. That you wouldn’t want me staying there under the circumstances.’

  Sam could feel tears rising in her throat. She swallowed. ‘Why didn’t you tell her the truth?’

  ‘I guess I didn’t want Jess thinking I want to leave her.’ He paused. ‘I didn’t mean it to sound the way it did. I’m sorry, Sam. Really, I can understand why you’re so angry.’

  She couldn’t speak, she was worried she wouldn’t be able to control her voice. Why was he doing this now? Being so kind in the middle of walking out on her? It was like stroking her hair as he released the guillotine.

  ‘Let me talk to her? I’ll straighten it out.’

  ‘She’s not here,’ Sam said quietly.

  ‘I’ll call her tomorrow then. If that’s okay with you?’

  ‘Mm.’

  ‘Sam, are you alright?’

  Fuck. She took a breath. ‘I’m fine. Look, I’ve got people here, I have to go.’

  ‘Sure, I’ll phone tomorrow.’

  ‘See you.’ She hung up. But she wouldn’t see him tomorrow. Or the next day. Or hardly ever any more.

  She walked out to the family room. The girls were scattered across the lounge chairs, all except Max, who was sprawled out on the floor. They were laughing at someone’s joke.

  Rosemary looked up at Sam. ‘What’s the matter? Who was that?’

  ‘It was Jeff,’ she said, trying to keep her voice level, keep control. But it was no use, she burst into tears. Max jumped up from the floor and put an arm around her. Liz passed her a drink.

  ‘Come and sit down,’ said Max.

  Fiona sidled over to make room for them on the sofa. ‘What did he say?’

  ‘I called him earlier about something Jess said today,’ Sam sniffed.

  Rose passed her a tissue. ‘What was that?’

  ‘That I was kicking him out, that he would stay if I let him.’

  ‘What?’ they shrieked in unison.

  ‘Bastard!’

  ‘Dickhead!’

  ‘Now, now ladies,’ Liz chided. ‘We don’t have to lower ourselves to his level, just because the arsehole has the morals of a dog on heat.’

  ‘What did he have to say for himself?’ Max asked.

  Sam wiped her eyes and nose. ‘He didn’t mean it the way Jess took it. He hadn’t made himself clear, but she misunderstood as well.’ She paused, thinking. ‘He was so . . . decent about it. He sounded genuinely sorry.’

  ‘So did Bill Clinton,’ said Liz drily, ‘after he was caught.’

  Sam shook her head. ‘I don’t get why he’s trying so hard now to do the right thing.’

  ‘Guilty conscience,’ Fiona proclaimed.

  Liz nodded. ‘I remember Mick acted like some kind of hero just because he gave me child support. Like he had a choice!’

  Liz’s first marriage had fallen apart when their son Will was barely three, on account of the fact that Mick was a ‘moron’ who didn’t understand the meaning of fidelity, ‘probably couldn’t even spell it’. She married Michael five years later. He was only ever called Michael, so as not to confuse him with the first Michael, who was only ever referred to as Mick.

  ‘I just can’t help wondering if he’s a better person with her,’ Sam said in a small voice.

  ‘No!’ they chorused.

  ‘It’s like Fiona said,’ Rosemary assured her. ‘He’s just feeling guilty about what he’s done to you. And so he should.’

  ‘I used to imagine him having an affair,’ Sam blurted. ‘Max thinks I’m odd. But you know, when it goes stale, and you’re not as close as you used to be, well, I don’t know,’ she sighed. ‘I thought it would be a good way out. That I would have all the control, send him packing. But it’s nothing like that at all.’

  ‘I’d be devastated if Gavin had an affair,’ Fiona remarked. ‘Not that he ever would, of course.’

  ‘I think I know what you mean though, about having a way out,’ said Rosemary wistfully.

  ‘What about you, Liz?’ asked Max. ‘You’ve been through a marriage break-up.’

  She shrugged. ‘The only thing I ever daydreamed about was Mick being mauled by a Rottweiler,’ she said plainly, picking up her cigarettes. ‘I’m going outside for a fag.’

  They were silent for a while, absorbed in their own thoughts. Sam looked at the glass in her hand and skolled down the remainder. She reached for a bottle to refill her glass.

  ‘Hey, let’s not get all morbid,’ she announced. ‘You’re supposed to be cheering me up.’

  Fiona promptly launched into the latest email joke of the day, and Sam forced herself to laugh. But she felt as though she had left her body and was watching the scene from somewhere else.

  There’s that sad woman whose husband left her for another woman.

  After a while she walked out to join Liz, who was lighting her second cigarette.

  ‘You don’t have to stay out here, you know.’

  ‘Yes I do, it’s rude to smoke in a non-smoker’s house. Especially one as pristine as yours.’

  ‘Give me a drag then,’ said Sam.

  Liz passed the cigarette to her. ‘You don’t smoke.’

  ‘I’m thinking of starting a few bad habits. Ooh, head spin,’ she said, passing it back to Liz.

  ‘That tends to happen when you’ve never smoked.’

  ‘I used to smoke. When I was sixteen, for about a year, until I started going out with Jeff. He didn’t like it so I stopped.’

  ‘There you go, th
ere’s something worthwhile you got out of the relationship.’

  They stared out at the garden. Maxine drifted out to join them.

  ‘They’re talking about the relative merits of washing powders in there. They lost me.’

  ‘Don’t be smug,’ Sam corrected her. ‘Of course it’s boring to a single woman who doesn’t have a tribe of kids to wash for.’

  ‘No,’ Liz shook her head, blowing out smoke. ‘It’s boring for anyone.’

  ‘I suppose you’re right.’

  ‘The pergola looks good,’ Liz remarked. ‘I haven’t seen it since it was finished.’

  ‘Mm, but I wish we hadn’t spent the money now,’ Sam sighed. ‘It’s just more to pay off on the mortgage.’

  ‘Don’t worry, you’ll get it back when you sell.’

  ‘Sell?’

  Liz looked at her. ‘You don’t intend holding on to this place, do you?’

  ‘Why not?’

  ‘Well, to be honest, darl, I don’t think you’ll be able to afford it.’

  Sam felt alarmed. ‘Why? Jeff’s on a good wage. He wouldn’t want the kids to do without.’

  ‘They will though, Sherl, according to the statistics,’ Max informed her.

  ‘What are you talking about?’

  ‘Children of divorces always move down a peg or two on the socio-economic ladder.’

  ‘I think you’re mixing your metaphors there,’ Liz frowned.

  ‘Maybe you don’t realise,’ Sam continued insistently, ‘but Jeff earns really good money.’

  ‘Look, you’ll be better off than a lot of people. But don’t forget he now has his own living expenses to cover as well.’

  ‘The child support agency will do an assessment of what he has to give you for the kids,’ Liz explained. ‘It’ll be fair, but you won’t have any control over what he does with the rest.’

  ‘I agree with Liz,’ said Max. ‘I think you’ll find this house will gobble up too much of your income. And then there’s maintenance, rates. I bet they’re a fortune around here.’

  Sam stood frozen.

  There was that poor woman again, the one whose husband left her, and then she lost everything.

  ‘Give me another drag of that cigarette.’

  The following week

  ‘Do I have to go?’ Josh said for probably the tenth time since he’d found out that they were going to spend every second weekend with their father. That was as much as they had worked out at this stage.

  ‘Yes, you do,’ Sam replied brusquely, checking the back door was locked.

  ‘Why?’

  She sighed. ‘Because that’s the way things have to be now.’ Sam had already had this argument with Jeff and she didn’t feel like having it again, especially playing the other side. Sam hated that they were going to stay at the flat he shared with Jodi.

  ‘What choice do I have?’ Jeff had countered.

  ‘Does she have to be there?’

  ‘It’s her flat, I don’t think it’s exactly polite to ask her to clear out for the weekend.’

  ‘But I haven’t even met the woman. I don’t let the kids stay anywhere unless I’ve met at least one of the parents.’

  Jeff sighed loudly. ‘I am one of the parents, Sam, in case you’ve forgotten. But fine, why don’t we set up a meeting?’

  ‘Never mind,’ Sam blurted. She’d rather dine on live frogs. ‘Well, couldn’t you take them somewhere else?’

  ‘What are you suggesting? That I hole up in some dingy hotel room for the weekend? That’d be fun for the kids.’

  ‘You can afford better than dingy, Jeff.’

  ‘Maybe, as a one-off. But what difference does it make, Sam? This is where I’m living now. They’re going to have to get used to it sooner or later.’

  Get used to it. How carelessly that phrase was bandied about. Get used to it. Snap out of it. Get over it. Cheer up. Move on. As if it was that easy. Well, you could tell a horse to get used to being led to water, but . . .

  ‘Now, grab your school bag, Josh, your sisters are already in the car.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘Why what?’

  ‘Why do we have to go for whole weekends?’ he persisted. ‘What about when football starts up again?’

  ‘Well, your father will have to take you.’ Ha. Some small consolation.

  ‘He’s never bothered before.’

  ‘That’s not quite true, Josh,’ Sam admonished. ‘You can’t say he’s never been to one of your games.’

  ‘Okay, he’s been like, twice,’ he grumbled.

  ‘You know it’s been more than that.’

  Josh followed his mother out to the garage. ‘I don’t see why we have to do what he wants when he’s the one who pissed off.’

  Sam turned around to face him. ‘Because you do. Because you’re fourteen years old and you don’t have a choice. Your life revolves around the whims of your parents. And I’m sorry, Josh, because the last thing I want to do is hurt you, but I can’t do anything about this.’

  He stared down at his feet. He was much taller than Sam now and she couldn’t give him a hug so easily. He wouldn’t want her to anyway, with the girls peering through the car windows watching them. Instead she squeezed his arm.

  ‘Look, if it’s terrible you can sort something else out with your father. But you have to at least give it a go, Josh.’

  Sam couldn’t stop thinking about it all the way to work. She hated forcing anything onto Josh, but what could she do about it? Jessica was jumping out of her skin to go. Jodi’s flat was in Clovelly and Jeff had promised to take them all to Bondi for breakfast on Saturday morning. Jess couldn’t believe she was actually going to see where they filmed Beachside. She could hardly contain herself.

  Ellie seemed fine. She was only worried about leaving her mother alone. Sam reassured her she would be alright, that she had lots of friends she could visit. Everyone kept telling her this was the best part about being separated. Whole weekends to yourself to do whatever you pleased. Problem was, everybody was occupied with their own families, chores, weekend sports. Even Maxine had plans. It was going to be a long weekend.

  There’s that sad woman whose husband left her. She does nothing all weekend but stare at old Elvis movies on the TV and drink wine out of a cask.

  Sam walked wearily through the glass doors at MRA, signed on, and made her way around to her workstation.

  ‘Morning Brenda,’ she said as she passed her.

  Brenda merely raised a hand, not turning around. She must have been in the middle of a call. Then Sam saw the yellow Post-it note on her monitor.

  Sam sat deferentially listening to Stewart’s reprimand. Not that it was harsh.

  ‘You know this is as difficult for me as it is for you,’ he said, his head bent in studied concern. ‘But it’s company policy. When a breach is detected during a monitored call, the staff member in question has to be censured.’

  ‘I understand, Stewart.’

  There was a reason he was known as ‘sleazy’. Stewart McEvoy considered himself a bit of a ladies’ man. Sam had even overheard him telling one of the young receptionists once that he had often been mistaken for Harrison Ford. That must have been long, long ago in a galaxy far, far away. He had probably been good-looking once upon a time, but he was sadly on the decline these days. A penchant for cigarettes and alcohol hadn’t helped. Still, he used his position to get away with some mildly inappropriate behaviour. No one was about to go crying harassment – he was more desperate than threatening.

  ‘You are a valued member of the team, Samantha.’ She hated the way he said her name. It was almost lascivious. ‘This has never happened before so I don’t imagine there will be any serious repercussions. I will have to write a report, of course. Is there anything you want me to include in your defence?’

  Sam thought about what Max had said, but she hesitated. If she told Stewart it would make it more . . . real, somehow.

  What was she thinking? Her kids were spending the w
eekend with their father and his new girlfriend. How much more real did it have to get?

  She cleared her throat. ‘I’m having some personal problems.’

  ‘Well, I knew there had to be something more to it.’ He came around the desk and leaned back against it, smiling down at her in a manner she could only imagine he thought was sincere.

  ‘Is there anything in particular that would shed light? For the report,’ he added.

  ‘My husband has moved out. He’s having an affair.’

  ‘Oh Samantha!’ he lamented dramatically. He got up and closed the door to his office, pulling a chair over next to her. ‘What happened?’

  ‘Like I said, he’s having an affair. He left. Pretty straightforward really.’

  Stewart shook his head. ‘Heartbreaking stuff, babe. I’ve been there.’

  Yes, and he’d been the heartbreaker. He’d left wife number one for wife number two and then left her for a very young girl in Accounts, who at least had the good sense to dump him soon after. It was the office scandal at the time. And probably the reason he had never moved into upper management.

  ‘Well, if you need someone to talk to, you know my door is always open.’ His voice was like molasses. He sounded like that creepy guy on the radio offering an ear to the lovelorn. ‘Are you going to need extra shifts? I can arrange that for you. Or maybe you’d like to take some time off?’

  ‘I think for the meantime I’ll leave things as they are.’

  ‘Good idea,’ he said, taking the opportunity to pat her on the knee. ‘But you just let me know, anything I can do.’

  ‘Thanks Stewart. I’d better get back to work.’

  ‘Of course,’ he said, clearing his throat. ‘And don’t worry about the incident. I’ll make it go away.’

  ‘Thank you.’ She didn’t like having to thank him so often. It put her in a vulnerable position.

  Sam glanced at her watch. It was almost six. She had been filling in time, completing her log, dawdling. Jeff would be picking up the kids shortly. He was doing the run to pre-school, dance class and then home to collect Josh. It would also give the kids a chance to get changed so that their school uniforms could be washed over the weekend. In Jeff’s universe that was being considerate. She would have liked to tell him that ‘considerate’ would be returning their uniforms after the weekend, washed and ironed. She had no idea of Miss Jodi’s laundry skills and she wouldn’t trust Jeff to do it properly. It just would have been nice if he’d offered.