An Ideal Wife: A Novel

by Gemma Townley

  Sitting down, I took a gulp of coffee and did a quick survey of the list. As I read, I found myself getting hotter and hotter. He needed health and safety records going back five years, accounts to demonstrate positive cash flow, policies on everything from charitable giving to staff counseling, evidence of involvement in the local community, evidence that our campaigns did not exploit anyone, and evidence that all our clients were assessed ethically before we agreed to work for them.

  It was insane. I got up and half-ran to Eric’s office. “This list,” I said.

  He smiled; evidently he’d been expecting me. “Yes?”

  “We don’t have half this stuff. I mean, we do a lot of it—like, this year we sponsored the local street fair, and Max always encourages charitable giving via the payroll, and we don’t work for any tobacco companies or anything. But we just do that stuff; we don’t have policies on it. And Max has all the health and safety stuff, but he’s in the hospital. Can I talk you through everything instead?”

  “Talk me through it?” There was a little smile on his lips; I realized Eric was enjoying this.

  “Or maybe if I had a bit more time we could pull some of this stuff together?”

  Eric shook his head slowly. “I’m afraid that’s impossible. Our client, Chester Rydall, has set the timeline. I can’t alter it.”

  “So you really need all this by … by the end of today?” I asked incredulously.

  “Close of business, that’s right,” Eric said. “Is there anything else?”

  I took a deep breath. Was there anything else? You betcha. But I couldn’t say what I wanted to say. I’d promised Max the audit would go without a hitch, and telling Eric that he was the most horrible man I’d ever met wasn’t going to help achieve that objective. “No,” I said tightly. “That’s all.”

  I wandered back to my desk, miserable. There was no way we’d be able to meet Eric’s deadline. I picked up the phone. Maybe Max had some policies kicking around that I didn’t know about—maybe he’d prepared for this stuff without me knowing. I dialed his number, and after a couple of rings he picked up.

  “Hello?”

  “Hi, darling. How are you?”

  “Jess! Hi! I’m watching Heir Hunters. These people track down beneficiaries of wills. It’s a fascinating world. Grubby but fascinating. You should put it on.”

  “I’d love to,” I said, trying not to sound as stressed as I felt. “Maybe later. I’m calling about work, actually. About the audit. I just wondered—”

  “The audit? It’s going okay, isn’t it? There aren’t any problems?” Max cut in urgently.

  I bit my lip. “No. No problems,” I said quickly. “Listen, are there any policies I don’t know about on things like charitable giving, community alliances, that sort of thing?”

  There was a pause. “No, we don’t have any policies. But we got involved in the fair. Tell him about that. We promoted it for free and manned a stand and—”

  “Yes, I know,” I said. “I only wondered if there was any paperwork. You know what these guys are like. If it isn’t written down, it doesn’t exist.”

  There was a pause, then Max said, “I need to come in, don’t I? I knew it. Look, I’m feeling much better. I’ll just—owwwwwww.”

  Apparently Max was trying to move. “Max? No. Stop it. Don’t move. Don’t be ridiculous.”

  “Bugger, that hurt,” Max grunted. “Look, I’ll ask the doctors to help me.”

  “You’ll do no such thing,” I said crossly. “Max, don’t be so silly. We don’t need policies; I wanted to check if there was anything extra I could give the auditor, that’s all. Everything’s completely under control.”

  “It is?” Max asked dubiously. “But you said he wanted everything written down.”

  “No, I said that’s what these guys are like. Actually, our auditor is really nice. Very flexible and understanding. Don’t worry at all. I’m sorry I even mentioned it.”

  I was, too. Hadn’t I told myself I wouldn’t trouble Max with anything?

  “Oh, that’s a relief. So it’s all going well?”

  “Couldn’t be better,” I lied. “I’ll tell you more when I see you later. But I’d better go. You know, lots to do.”

  “Thanks, Jess. I appreciate this.”

  “It’s the least I can do,” I assured him. “After all, it’s my fault you’re in the hospital in the first place.”

  “Don’t be silly. But you’re coming by later? Could you bring some muffins if you get a chance? The food here is dreadful.”

  “Muffins. Definitely. No problem,” I said. “Bye, Max. Enjoy Heir Hunters.”

  “Bye, gorgeous.”

  I put the phone down and sighed heavily. Okay, time for Plan B. Tentatively, I picked up the phone again and dialed Chester’s mobile.

  “Jess! Hi!” he said warmly. I felt better already. Chester would understand. We were almost family, after all.

  “Hi, Chester,” I said. “Listen, I was just calling to ask a little favor of you. It’s about the—”

  “Have you spoken to her? She’s still giving me the silent treatment.”

  “What?” I asked, slightly thrown. “Oh, right, Mum. Yes. I mean, no, not since—”

  “Please call her, Jess. You have to make her see sense.”

  “I will,” I said quickly. “But, look, I was wondering if we might delay the—”

  “It’s not like I’m on vacation. I’ve told her a million times I’m out here so that we can get married. Clearing the decks, tying up loose ends. She’s acting as if I’m with some fancy woman or something.”

  “I’m sure she doesn’t think that,” I said patiently. “So, look, Chester, about this audit …”

  “Audit? It’s started, has it? That’s just great. Keep me posted, won’t you? I’ve been telling all the folks over here about it. They’re waiting with bated breath to see what happens. You’re our test case, Jess. Now, look, I’d love to talk with you some more, but I’m kind of in the middle of something right now. I’ll call you tomorrow, okay? And give that mother of yours a kiss from me. Tell her I love her, even if she’s driving me crazy.”

  “Of course I will,” I said with a sigh. “Bye, Chester.”

  “Bye, Jess.”

  The line went dead, and I let my head fall onto the desk in front of me. So much for Plan B. I’d have initiated Plan C, only I didn’t have one.

  “Jess, are you okay?” I heard Caroline’s voice and looked up toward her desk, then my face fell. Eric was sitting next to her. Which meant he’d seen me collapse onto my desk. No doubt he’d have read into it and decided that I was a drug addict or a manic depressive or … or …

  “I’m fine,” I said, in as business-like a tone as I could muster. “I was just … thinking, that’s all. I find it easier to think with my head on my desk.”

  “Right,” Caroline said seriously. Then she turned back to Eric. “So have you ever come across anything awful in one of your audits? You know, anything really bad?”

  Eric nodded slowly, as if he were a gunslinger sharing stories of his dangerous exploits. I rolled my eyes and brought up a spreadsheet that I’d emailed myself from Max’s computer—I had to pay some bills and needed to check our cash flow first, but it was proving rather harder than I’d expected. “Oh, I’ve come across some terrible things in my time,” he said, as if he was really enjoying it. I huffed in irritation at his pomposity, at his obvious delight in catching people out, and he stopped. “Sorry, did you say something?” he said, his eyes narrowing in my direction.

  “Nope, nothing,” I said, smiling brightly.

  “I’m sure I heard something,” Eric said pointedly.

  “I was just clearing my throat,” I said. “Sorry. Got a cold coming.”

  “Poor you,” Caroline said, shaking her head. “Eric, you were saying?” She turned back to Eric, all wide-eyed, and I slumped back behind my computer screen.

  “We come across all sorts,” Eric said, pausing for dramatic eff
ect. “People always think they can hide things from me. But they can’t.”

  “It must be so exciting, going through those spreadsheets,” I muttered before I could stop myself.

  Eric’s eyes fell on me again. “Paperwork is an important part of the job,” he said, his voice becoming extra nasal. “But I also have other tactics.”

  Like snooping on people, I thought crossly.

  “Well, you won’t find anything here,” Caroline said earnestly. “Max is, like, the best boss, and Jess always makes sure everything is perfect. If it isn’t, we have to totally redo it.”

  Eric nodded slowly. “You’re the one who named a campaign after a handbag, aren’t you?” he asked me.

  “Yes.” I nodded back, uncertain.

  “I see,” he said, as if he were Sherlock Holmes and I’d just given him a clue. Any minute now he’d start stroking an imaginary beard.

  “Anyway,” I said curtly, “I hope you’re not too bored here. As Caroline has said, I don’t think you’re going to find anything untoward going on within these four walls.”

  “Maybe not.” Eric smiled. “But who knows? Things often turn up.”

  “Jerome D. Rutter says that bad things always make themselves known eventually, because they infect the air around them,” Caroline said seriously. “They produce negative energy. And I can’t feel any negative energy around here, so I think Jess is right.”

  Eric looked at her uncertainly. “Jerome D. Rutter?” he asked.

  “It’s this book I’m reading,” Caroline explained. “How to—”

  “I know who Jerome D. Rutter is,” Eric cut in, his eyes wide now. “But I didn’t know you were a fan, too.”

  “Oh, I think he’s amazing,” Caroline said fervently. “He’s the reason I’m selling so much stuff on eBay.”

  Eric nodded vigorously. “Material goods are just baggage that we drag around with us. Freeing ourselves gives us the energy to run instead of walk!”

  “Exactly!” Caroline enthused. “I feel better already, you know. I’ve gotten rid of loads of stuff, and I feel so energized!”

  “Although,” Eric said seriously, “really you should have given the stuff to charity rather than selling it on eBay. Spread the good energy around.”

  Caroline smiled. “Yes, I thought of that. But then I decided that I’d make more money on eBay than the charities would in their shops. So I’m selling my stuff, then giving the money to charity.”

  Eric’s mouth fell open. “That’s inspired,” he said. “You should email Rutter about it. You might be featured as one of the tip-givers in his next edition.”

  “No!” Caroline gasped. “Do you think so?”

  “I think it’s worth a try,” Eric said with a nod.

  “You like Rutter, too?” I asked him.

  “Oh yes,” he said, his eyes shining. “The man is a genius. He changes lives.”

  “Really?” I asked dubiously.

  “Jess thinks that his book is full of platitudes,” Caroline said quietly. “And she’s probably right, but—”

  “She is not right!” Eric said, looking at me as though Caroline had told him that I thought Father Christmas was a child molester. “Jerome D. Rutter does not speak in platitudes. He speaks right from the heart.”

  “I’m sure he does,” I concurred. “I’m just, you know, not entirely convinced by his philosophy.”

  “Until you give away the possessions that are weighing you down, you won’t understand his philosophy,” he said, his eyes narrowing again.

  “Okay,” I said uncomfortably. “Well, maybe you’re right.”

  “Definitely,” Eric said, bearing down on me now. “Absolutely definitely.”

  “Definitely, then,” I said. “Now, I hope you don’t mind, but I’ve got to make a phone call. I promised to give Chester some figures.”

  “Chester? Chester Rydall?” Eric asked, and I nodded.

  The lie worked; as I’d expected, he blanched slightly at the name and stood up. “Yes, well, as it happens, I should be getting back to my work, too,” he said, scurrying back to his office.

  I picked up the phone and took a deep breath. I’d realized there was a Plan C; I just didn’t relish initiating it. However, I didn’t have a choice. I was going to have to call my mother.

  I dialed her number; sure enough, one ring later, she answered.

  “Hi, Mum.”

  “Jessica! Finally. Now, darling, I need to talk to you, but I think it would be better if you came down in person. What are you doing this evening?”

  “Hi, Mum. Look, actually, I was calling about Chester. I was hoping you might do me a favor and get him to delay the—”

  “Chester? Darling, Chester is in America, as you well know, and frankly I don’t intend to talk to him until he says he’s sorry for abandoning me like this.”

  “He said he’s sorry,” I sighed. “And this audit is a complete nightmare. I just need another week or so to pull together the paperwork. I tried calling him, but all he wanted to talk about was you, and …” Caroline was waving at me, and I looked at her questioningly.

  “Well, he can talk about me all he wants,” Mum was saying. “Talking to me isn’t going to be so easy. So, he’s got you working for him, has he? Typical. You’re my daughter, but he’s got you taking his side.” Caroline was standing up now and pointing to something behind me. Reluctantly, I turned around.

  “I’m not on any side, Mum,” I said, then my mouth fell open. Standing in reception, wearing a tight black miniskirt and a low-cut top, balancing precariously on five-inch stilettos with Giorgio clamped in her right arm, was Ivana. “Mum, I’ve got to go,” I said, my eyes widening.

  “Go? But I need to talk to you, darling. I need to—”

  “I’ll call you back,” I said quickly, then hung up and rushed over to Ivana. Eric had come out of his office and was looking at her with his eyes hanging out on stalks, and I wanted to get her as far away from him as possible.

  “Ivana! What a … surprise! What are you doing here?” I asked, ushering her over to one of the leather sofas in the reception area. She sat down and smiled, two gold teeth glinting under the overhead lights.

  “I do you fevor, yes?”

  I frowned. “You do? I mean, you are? You will? What favor? Sorry, Ivana, um, what?”

  She rolled her eyes. “I do you fevor. I tich iron, yes?”

  “Oh, right!” I said, realizing what she was on about. “Yes. I mean, that would be great. But … not now. Not here. I’ll give you a call. To be honest, I’m really busy here, because Max broke his leg and—”

  “Yes, yes. I tich when is better time,” Ivana said dismissively. “But is good for me do fevor for you, and you do fevor for me. Yes?”

  “I guess,” I said uncertainly. I looked up, briefly caught Eric’s eye, and immediately looked away again. He was probably going to start scribbling in his notebook any second now, I thought irritably.

  “Good,” Ivana said, looking very pleased with herself. “So, I heff trunk outside. You look after for me, yes?”

  “Trunk? What, you’ve got it here now? Where?” I asked in alarm.

  “In taxi,” she said, as though it was absolutely obvious. “I heff it brought in, yes?”

  “Yes? No! Ivana, you can’t just turn up at my office with a trunk. Where am I going to put it?”

  Her eyes widened and her nose flared. “You put in big house in country,” she snarled. “I do you fevor. Meny fevor. Make man want merry you. Help when you boom-boom with gay man. Now I nid fevor from you. Hide trunk for me.”

  “I didn’t boom-boom,” I said, lowering my voice and hoping Ivana would do the same. Her voice was bouncing around the open reception area, and already people were beginning to look up from their desks, trying to listen in. Eric, meanwhile, was now standing at Gillie’s desk, probably on the pretext of checking up on something, but I knew full well he was doing his usual thing and listening in on my conversation. “I just kissed …” I whispe
red, then decided that now was not the time to explain yet again that boom-boom hadn’t come into it. “Oh, it doesn’t matter. And I’m sorry. I really appreciate everything you’ve done. It’s just, you know, a bit of a surprise, that’s all. If you’d called ahead, I could have cleared some—”

  “If I call ahead, you find reason I no come.” Ivana shrugged. “I em here. With trunk. You tek please.”

  “Okay,” I said dubiously. I’d only just clocked something she’d said earlier. Hide trunk. Not store it; hide it. What did she mean by that?

  “So … what’s in it?” I asked in as casual a tone as I was able to adopt, bearing in mind that the entire office was now staring right at me, mouths open, ears pricked up.

  Ivana’s eyes narrowed. “Is not important. You no ask, I no tell. What important is you tek.”

  I did ask, I wanted to point out but decided against it. Ivana was a formidable opponent. Not that I’d ever dared find out, and Helen had told me stories about her that made me very glad I hadn’t. “But why?” I persisted. “Why do you want me to look after it?”

  She looked me in the eye for a couple of seconds and I felt myself falter; then she said lightly, “Nid more room. Heff bebe, need room. For music center.”

  “Oh, I see,” I said, relieved.

  “Now you tek trunk, so heff more room,” Ivana said, looking very pleased with herself. “I heff taxi men bring in.”

  “But … but …” I stammered.

  “When you tek to house?” she demanded, looking around. “Tek soon, I think.”

  Eric was staring at me intently, so I forced a smile.