My Husband's Wives

by Faith Hogan

  Being around Evie made her feel better about herself. Young. Beautiful. Evie made her feel as if she had the world at her feet. She treated the boys as if she’d been waiting for decades for them to arrive. And it would be nice to do something for someone else. ‘Boys,’ she called, ‘come on. We’re going out.’

  *

  Kasia sat silently in one of the deep Victorian couches, knotting her hands nervously, tired and pale. Annalise remembered what it was like when she was pregnant with Dylan. She pitied Kasia; her exhaustion worn as a badge across her whole body. It was a mixture of worry, fear and growing excitement that meshed with feeling drained all the time.

  ‘I read once that Sophia Loren had to stay in bed for most of her pregnancies,’ Annalise said as she flopped into a chair opposite her.

  ‘Is she another of your supermodels?’ Kasia smiled.

  ‘No, she was…’ Annalise shook her head. There wasn’t much point in explaining to Kasia, it just wasn’t her thing. ‘She was an Italian actress. She’s old now.’ Annalise smiled. ‘You never hear of celebrities having terrible pregnancies these days. It’s all yoga and Pilates and slipping back into their pre-pregnancy designer clothes five minutes after they give birth.’

  ‘I do not understand your taste with all of these people. They would make me feel the worse and not the better. My life will never be like theirs.’ Kasia said simply.

  ‘It’s not about comparing…’ Annalise said, but she couldn’t finish her sentence, because, maybe it was. Maybe that was what she spent her life doing, comparing herself to Miranda Kerr and the Duchess of Cambridge and Katie Holmes. Kasia was right; it made her feel as if her life was a shoddy second best.

  ‘Anyway, even if I don’t have the house in Beverly Hills, I’m going to have what I’ve always wanted,’ Kasia placed her hand across her tummy and smiled serenely, ‘and it is good. I can depend on you to tell me all about the famous people’s lives that I haven’t time to catch up on.’ Like a small coin falling through a complex slot, Annalise felt a dawning realization come over her: Kasia was happy because she only compared her life to her own standards.

  ‘Kasia, I think you have a point.’ Annalise stared at her. It was a moment of real learning. She determined then and there to end her obsession with celebrity culture. She settled back into the chair, feeling as though she’d shed an ungainly overcoat that she no longer needed. She would dump every magazine and cut all her online accounts with celebrity gossip sites. The thought was like a wave of freedom, as though she’d picked up the ‘get out of jail’ card in a game of Monopoly. She considered Kasia, who seemed to have so little compared to her, and yet she was so happy. If it had been only a few months earlier, Annalise had a feeling that she wouldn’t ‘get’ Kasia. Now she knew. She knew that Kasia was just happy to be here. She was overjoyed to be pregnant. She was content to be with people who cared about her. It had taken until this for Annalise to value all of these things that she’d taken for granted until recently.

  Madeline had made sure that Annalise kept active, ate well and slept well throughout both her pregnancies and after the births of her boys. Kasia didn’t have the luxury of staying at home while her mother took care of her. If Annalise was afraid of what the future held, how much worse were Kasia’s fears? Annalise knew a little about Vasile and something of Kasia’s past in Romania. ‘You judge life differently there,’ Kasia said simply. She was so composed it was hard to imagine her suffering at the hands of a brute like Vasile.

  Without meaning to and hardly realizing it, Annalise had grown fond of Kasia. It wasn’t just that she doted on the boys; she was really good with them. ‘They are easy; try living in a place with sixty little boys, and then you learn how to manage children. Your children, Annalise, they are – how do you say it here? A walk in the gardens?’ She laughed lightly and easily and it added to her charm. Kasia was nothing like the girls Annalise met on the Dublin modelling scene. Annalise knew that there were little cliques: girls that socialized together, were bridesmaids at each other’s weddings, perhaps lifelong friends. She’d never struck up that kind of friendship with any of them – although these were the people she should have most in common with. But, Evie, Grace and Kasia, who only weeks ago she had felt no warmth for, had actively disliked in fact – well, they had become part of her life – an unlikely part, but there you go. You don’t always get to choose, do you? How had that happened? Annalise had a feeling that it had been quietly, stealthily organized behind the scenes by Paul.

  ‘Are you okay?’ Annalise asked.

  ‘Sure. You?’

  In the far corner of the room, the boys played with toys that doubtless belonged in a museum. Simple things: horses, push-along cars and marbles that were probably too dangerous for them. Annalise didn’t have the heart to take them from them; instead she grabbed Jerome as he scampered about picking up the marbles and kissed him dotingly on his soft peachy skin. ‘Seriously, you look really – I don’t know, tired, worried, I suppose.’

  ‘I…’ A large tear spilled down Kasia’s cheek. ‘Maybe my hormones are all over me?’ She smiled, wiping away the tear. ‘I…’ She pointed discreetly in the direction of the kitchen where Evie was making a pot of tea for them. ‘I don’t want to worry her, but, I’ve seen Vasile.’

  ‘Oh?’ It was the last thing Annalise expected.

  Kasia lowered her voice further. ‘He stood opposite the hospital for hours yesterday. It was strange to see him just standing there, smoking and looking across at the windows. Of course, he can’t see in, he can’t watch from there but… it scared me.’ She shook her head. ‘I don’t like it; it’s as though he’s waiting for me, waiting to make his move. I left the back way. I don’t think he saw me.’

  ‘Would he hurt you?’

  ‘Oh, Annalise.’ She smiled. ‘Annalise, he’s hit me and kicked me and made me feel small. Sometimes I thought I would die there and, to be honest, I did not think it mattered all that much. Who’d miss me if I had?’

  ‘Oh Kasia, I’m so sorry.’

  ‘But for the first time in a long time, I have something to live for. I have every reason to stay safe, to stay away from him. If he hurts me, he hurts the baby and I can’t let that happen.’

  ‘So can you talk to the guards?’ It seemed so simple to Annalise.

  ‘No. That would make it worse. People like Vasile, they do not give up. I do not think he knows where I am staying, but that is only a matter of time. He will follow me, or he will get some of his friends to follow me. Then – well – if he came here, there is no guarantee that he would just stop with me. I’m afraid for Evie too.’ A tear slipped down her cheek. ‘I’ll have to leave. Soon.’

  ‘But you’re happy here, aren’t you? You can’t just leave. You can’t just let him win. You have work, somewhere to live, people that care about you.’ Annalise took Kasia’s hand. ‘You should tell Grace and Evie.’ If anyone could sort this, it would be Grace.

  ‘I can’t; they have been too kind already. You all have. Don’t you see? I have only the clothes I stand inside; I bring only the baby. If Vasile finds me, finds that I am here, it will mean nothing but trouble for all of you and for my baby.’

  ‘Kasia, you can’t spend a lifetime running. Not when you have a child.’ Annalise didn’t want Vasile or his trouble on her doorstep. Neither did she want Kasia leaving here with nowhere but the streets to go to, or worse, perhaps the streets of some other unkind city. It struck Annalise that only a short time ago, she’d have been delighted to see the back of Kasia, wouldn’t have minded if she told them she was off to China to open a Tesco store. ‘Don’t forget that we’re all here for you. I’d say Evie would happily take the frying pan to him if he came near you.’ They giggled at that. ‘Could you confront him, right there, opposite the hospital? I mean, would it be safe, is he the kind of bully who only lashes out when no one is looking?’

  ‘That is exactly what he is. I do not think he’d hit me or do anything apart from shout at me if the
re were people around to see him.’

  ‘Then maybe you need to meet him, ask him what he wants.’ Annalise glimpsed the fear that stalked Kasia’s eyes. ‘Easier said than done, I can see that. If you want me to do anything, you know I’ll help.’

  ‘You were there the last time, at Paul’s funeral. I couldn’t speak to him. It was Grace and Evie who told him to go. I was too scared; it was as if all the fear of the last few years just came over me at once. I had no words to speak for him.’ Kasia shuddered.

  ‘Well, I do think you should tell Grace and Evie. Four heads are always better than one.’ It had happened in spite of them: they were now a unit of four, if a somewhat disjointed one.

  ‘Maybe you are right,’ Kasia conceded quietly.

  ‘Of course I am. We want to help you.’ Annalise surprised herself by realizing that the words were genuine.

  ‘And I am so grateful for that, Annalise. It means so much to have people who care.’ Kasia’s smile took away some of the greyness that had settled in her eyes. ‘Can I say something to you?’ Kasia lowered her voice further and took a breath before going on, ‘Your agent, Gail?’

  ‘Yes, Gail, what about her?’ Annalise had a feeling it wouldn’t be good.

  Kasia said, ‘I hope you don’t mind me saying it?’

  Annalise nodded. ‘Go ahead.’

  ‘I don’t say bad things about people, but she is not doing you any good.’

  ‘Oh, Kasia, I know she can be a little… Ab fab,’ Annalise took in Kasia’s blank expression. ‘You know, it’s just fashion. She’s the best agent in Dublin, even though she can be a bit prickly.’

  ‘Maybe I have misunderstood.’ Kasia sounded doubtful. ‘Maybe she is just a little jealous?’

  ‘Jealous of me?’ Annalise didn’t feel there was too much to be jealous of. Her career – what she had left of it – was in tatters. Paul was gone – really gone – and she’d spent the best part of the morning emptying the downstairs loo of Lego blocks. ‘I don’t think she has any reason to be jealous of me, Kasia. She is madly successful, probably one of the most powerful people on the Dublin fashion scene?’

  ‘Yes, but she is not young and she is not beautiful.’

  ‘Neither last forever and she knows that better than any of us,’ Annalise said. ‘She’s clever and successful and she could cross me off her books in the morning if she felt like it.’ Secretly, Annalise often wondered why she hadn’t.

  ‘Who is?’ Grace arrived behind Annalise without her realizing.

  ‘Oh, we’re talking about Gail; Kasia is just telling me to watch her.’ She smiled in spite of herself. ‘I’m only getting two-bit promotion jobs while she’s got some of her girls working in Paris for Vogue.’ It wasn’t affecting her as badly as it should have.

  ‘You and your agent were friends best? No?’ Kasia’s brows rutted.

  ‘Funny, after ten years I thought so too. Best friends? I suppose all’s fair in love and fashion, right?’

  ‘I thought you wanted to get more TV work?’ Grace settled herself into the chair across from them.

  ‘That was the plan. It’s a pity that there aren’t a few producers or directors with the same idea. All I’m getting offered is bikini jobs – and let’s face it, I don’t have that many bikini shots left in me.’ Annalise laughed. ‘It’s not as if I’m on the breadline, or anything.’ Kasia had a way of making you count your blessings without even opening her mouth. ‘It’s just I want to have a career – something to be proud of.’ It was more than just wiping Grace Kennedy’s eye anymore. Annalise had begun to admire Grace. Of course, Annalise was never going to be as talented. But there had to be somewhere she could shine, right?

  ‘What about Jake Marshall?’ Kasia teased Grace.

  ‘Jake?’ A little colour shot towards Grace’s face. ‘What can he do?’

  ‘Maybe he can help?’

  ‘Who’s Jake Marshall?’ Annalise asked.

  ‘He’s a guy who helped me. I told him I’d ring him, but I think he’d prefer it if Grace rang him instead.’

  ‘So, this Jake, he helps people?’ Annalise loved Kasia’s assurance, ‘He’s Saint Jake? Is he the patron saint of washed-up models and Romanian waitresses, so?’

  ‘No, not like that. He’s a film-maker, documentaries, all that sort of stuff.’

  ‘Kasia, he’s a camera man between jobs. He’s making a documentary he’s hoping to sell on to some of the big stations,’ Grace said. Everything was so straightforward to Kasia.

  ‘And you think…’ The optimism was contagious.

  ‘Well, he might need someone to do the documentary he’s making? You could be the one to do the talking – the presentable? I think you would make a good presentable; it is what you want, isn’t it?’ Kasia began to root in her small bag unaware of the smiles between Annalise and Grace. ‘Also, you have no work? Yes?’

  ‘Ouch. Don’t mind my ego, will you?’ Annalise sat up. ‘Okay, I’m listening.’ It was a long shot, but she couldn’t just hang around for the next ten years waiting for something to happen.

  ‘I’m going to ring him.’ Kasia began to dial the number. ‘We have nothing to lose, no?’

  ‘Would you?’ Annalise wanted to throw her arms around Kasia’s neck and kiss her as if she was a springer spaniel.

  ‘It is not a big deal. He is a nice man; we might be doing him a favour too.’ Kasia smiled inscrutably across at Grace. ‘And wouldn’t it be nice to jump ahead of Gail, just this once?’

  ‘When you say it like that, there really is no choice.’ Annalise tossed her head and smiled.

  14

  Grace Kennedy

  ‘Would it be all right if I went to Kate’s this evening?’ Delilah kept her voice neutral, but Grace understood. Neither of them could do another minute cooped up here.

  ‘Of course it would, I’ll drop you off. Your dad wouldn’t want you left to wallow here.’ So they set off, with no particular rush or hurry. Camaraderie had been born through the changed circumstances that had managed to unhinge the world as they knew it.

  ‘Why didn’t we ever talk about Evie, or Annalise or her boys?’ The words were thin, disguised as flippant.

  ‘I didn’t know you wanted to.’ They stopped at traffic lights. Grace was aware of her daughter’s eyes upon her. ‘I think…’ she took a deep breath. ‘I think your father wanted to keep things separate.’

  ‘Why did he leave and then keep coming back?’

  ‘As though he’d never really left? It felt that way to me too. Maybe,’ she picked her words carefully. ‘Maybe he felt it was kinder for us.’

  ‘Maybe.’ Delilah twirled her hair nervously. ‘But it meant that we never moved on.’

  ‘How do you mean, moved on?’

  ‘Well, my friends, when their parents separated, they met other people. You never have. It’s as if he kept you all these years for himself, in our nice house. He made sure you never looked anywhere else, while all the while he had this whole other life going on.’

  ‘That’s very dark.’ Sometimes Grace thought Delilah could hit the nail on the head, whether she realised it or not.

  ‘Well then, why did I never get to see my half-brothers?’ Grace could hear Delilah’s voice begin to break. ‘Other kids my age have half-brothers and sisters. They come to stay; they become friends, family.’

  ‘It’s just the way we were.’ Grace had a feeling this could go either way. She wanted Delilah to remember the good man Paul was, not use his death as a scapegoat so she could blame him for some trumped-up charge.

  ‘I don’t blame you, Mum. Not anymore.’

  ‘Blame me for what?’

  ‘For you know…’ Delilah’s tears were flowing freely now. Grace indicated to pull in. She just had to put her arms around her daughter to make the pain less, to let her know that everything would be all right. ‘For making him go away.’

  ‘You blamed me for him leaving.’ Grace tried to keep her voice calm. She tried not to cry as she gently eased the car
into a space. Her parking skills had deserted her.

  ‘I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have… I just…’ It broke Grace’s heart to see her daughter shake with tears, but part of her was relieved. At least if she could cry, then maybe they could move forward.

  ‘It’s okay.’ Grace didn’t say that she’d blamed herself too all these years. Then something very strange happened. Delilah stopped crying, as suddenly as though the waves had deserted the ocean. They settled into stillness. Grace wasn’t sure if Delilah noticed it too, but in that second, a fragile peace bound them. They sat for what seemed like an eternity, packed into the most precious seconds of a lifetime. ‘It’s okay,’ they both said in unison. Delilah turned suddenly and hugged her mother.

  ‘What if we invite them all for dinner this Sunday?’ she asked when she finally let Grace go. ‘What if we all sit together and share a proper Sunday lunch?’ It was almost a smile, maybe the closest a proper one had made it near her eyes for a long time. ‘I’ll do the washing up if you say yes?’

  ‘Of course we can invite them for lunch.’ Grace smiled to cover her apprehension. She wondered if she could order in the food. No need for Evie and Annalise to know she was a rotten cook.

  Grace worried about leaving Delilah, but the truth was, she worried more about holding onto her. ‘I’ll collect you anytime you want to leave, just ring me if you feel you’re not up to it.’

  ‘No, I’ll be fine, Mum. I want to see my friends. It feels as if the whole world has gone screwballs. I just want to check in with something real.’ Grace could understand that, but all the same, she’d be keeping her phone close.

  Grace checked her phone while she watched Delilah go through the door to screams of welcome – teenagers, the same the world over. She had heard a beep earlier. It was a message from Jake forwarded on from Kasia. They were meeting him for a drink later. Would she come along? She had a feeling that Kasia was trying to matchmake. She was wasting her time. Jake had it all going for him; there was no way he’d be interested in her. For starters, he was younger than she was. Sure, if she’d been looking for a long-term partner, he ticked all the boxes. He had two children from a previous relationship; presumably he wasn’t looking to extend his brood. He seemed to be funny, caring and decent – and yes, she smiled to herself, he was hot. He was perfect, apart from one small thing – he wasn’t Paul.