Perfect Wives

by Emma Hannigan

  ‘That’s the snag,’ he said. ‘It’ll have to be Friday week.’

  ‘Ah, Jesus, Darius!’

  ‘I’m sorry, but I’m on location in China after that until October, remember?’

  ‘Okay,’ she said. ‘It’s probably best to get it over and done with as soon as possible.’

  ‘Oh, by the way, they’ve asked for Saul to be in the photos,’ he said, with a sigh.

  ‘I hope you told them where to go,’ she said.

  ‘I said, and I quote, “We will happily host a photo shoot in our Irish residence but Saul is never part of the deal.” I decided to leave out the piss-off-with-yourselves part,’ he said.

  ‘Charming!’ she replied. ‘Mind you, they’ve necks like jockeys’ arses, that lot. Once you give them an inch they take a mile. Nosy bastards.’

  ‘I love it when you get all sassy and Irish on me.’

  ‘Ah, shut up!’ she said, smiling in spite of herself. Jodi knew she had a tendency to fly off the handle but her temper always cooled as quickly as it flared.

  ‘It’s a front-cover shoot by the way,’ Darius said. ‘Ooh-la-la and all of that.’

  ‘Whoop-de-do.’ A few years ago she’d have been in a tailspin with excitement at all of this. Now it was nothing more than a drain on her time and a threat to her privacy. Jodi knew Darius was right, though. The public loved nothing more than to feel they were being allowed a glimpse into their private lives. It ensured their continuing support, just in case Darius’s current menace decided to try to blight them.

  But Jodi was acutely aware that the fans had got her to where she was today. If it would make them happy to see Darius and her looking loved up in a cosy cottage, that was what they’d get.

  Fleetingly she remembered the coffee morning at the school and Francine, but decided she could pop her head in for a few moments and get back to the cottage in plenty of time. Those shoots often took for ever to set up, so it’d be fine.

  ‘Daddy’s coming on Thursday night next week,’ she told Saul, when she’d hung up.

  ‘Yay!’ Saul shouted. ‘I can show him my bedroom and he can see my best friends!’

  ‘Good plan, buddy!’

  ‘How many sleeps is that?’

  ‘Well, today is Monday so there are a few, but he’ll be here before you know it,’ she said, delighting him. ‘Who are the best friends so far?’

  ‘Well, Lily – you saw her. She’s my girlfriend. We might get married,’ Saul said.

  ‘Fair enough. She’s very pretty.’

  ‘And Max – he’s got very, very spiky hair, like a hedgehog,’ Saul said seriously. ‘And Cameron. He’s the funnest.’

  ‘The most fun,’ Jodi corrected gently.

  ‘Yep.’ Saul nodded. ‘Can he come for a sleepover in the bunk beds too?’

  ‘Well, maybe we should have him for the afternoon first and see about a sleepover in a few weeks when we know people a little better.’

  ‘Can we ask Cameron in the morning?’ he pushed.

  ‘Sure.’ Jodi ignored the sense of misgiving that came over her. She might want to keep herself to herself but she couldn’t let that affect Saul’s happiness.

  Her smartphone pinged to let her know she had an email. Noelle was confirming the photographer’s hair and makeup people for the shoot on Friday week. They’d certainly wasted no time. She sighed.

  A churning sound from the field behind their cottage propelled Jodi to the window.

  ‘Look, Saul,’ she said. ‘There’s a farmer cutting the corn in the field with a huge machine.’

  ‘Wow!’ Saul said, climbing onto the counter so he could see. ‘Let’s go and watch.’ He jumped down and headed out.

  Jodi followed, pulling on a cardigan.

  Saul ran to the fence, clambered onto the bottom rung and waved to the small dot of a man sitting in the cab of the combine harvester. Much to Jodi’s surprise, as it neared them, it chugged to a halt.

  ‘Mum!’ Saul yelled, as the man jumped down and started walking towards them. ‘The farmer’s coming to see us!’ He climbed to the top of the fence and waved wildly.

  ‘Hello there,’ the man said.

  Jodi felt herself blush. Although he was fairly shabbily dressed in washed-out jeans and a woolly sweater that had certainly seen better days, he had a gorgeous face. His blond hair was studded with wisps of straw and he certainly didn’t look as if he spent much time preening himself. Still, Jodi mused, beside Darius and the other A-list actors she was used to, he was bound to look a bit rough and ready. She wasn’t expecting the shot of excitement that ran through her as his hazel eyes met hers. He drew her in instantly. If he hadn’t just got down from a combine harvester she’d have sworn he was wearing false eyelashes, they were so long and sweeping.

  ‘I’m Sebastian, and I live in the manor house beyond,’ he explained.

  ‘Oh, hi!’ Jodi laughed nervously. She knew she must have sounded like a silly schoolgirl.

  ‘I’d heard there was a new resident.’ He hesitated. ‘I knew the place was being done up after I sold it but I hadn’t noticed anyone living here before now. Anyway, I thought I should introduce myself. I won’t bother you,’ he added quickly. ‘I don’t want you to think I’m going to be an awful nosy neighbour.’ There was a brief moment of awkwardness as Jodi found herself tongue-tied.

  Her son saved her. ‘I’m Saul and I’m four and this is my mum, Jodi,’ he said, and shook Sebastian’s hand. ‘I started school today and I have four friends already. And I have a bunk bed.’

  ‘You’ve been a busy lad, eh?’ Sebastian said. ‘I’m very pleased to hear you have a bunk bed. That’s kind of essential when you’re four.’

  ‘Can I have a go in your chopper machine, please?’

  ‘It’s called a combine harvester and it’s for cutting the crops. Then I’ll have straw for the animals’ beds in the winter time,’ he explained. ‘I’m usually finished by now. But it’s been such a wet summer, I’ve been held up considerably. I’d gladly take you out for a spin if you were older, but I’m afraid you’re far too young to go near my machine.’

  ‘Never mind,’ Saul said, sounding deflated.

  ‘If your mum agrees maybe you could come to the end of the field and see the cows instead. They love having visitors,’ he said, raising an eyebrow at Jodi.

  ‘Maybe another day,’ Jodi said. Plucking Saul off the fence, she encouraged him to wave to Sebastian. Her eyes met her neighbour’s once more. ‘Nice to meet you,’ she said.

  ‘Yeah, you, too. Sorry, mate,’ Sebastian said to Saul.

  ‘Mum, please let me go and see the cows,’ Saul begged.

  A sixth sense told her Sebastian was all right.

  ‘Maybe I’m being too hasty,’ she conceded. ‘Go in and grab your coat and you can go for a quick look.’ She was so used to shielding Saul from the press that her knee-jerk reaction was to hide him away.

  Saul tore off towards the house.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ Jodi said, walking back to Sebastian. ‘We’re obviously new here and we lived in London, among other places, previously. Folk in general aren’t kiddie-friendly.’

  ‘I’m used to boys,’ Sebastian said, as he dropped his gaze to the ground. ‘I used to be one.’ He cleared his throat awkwardly. ‘My own fella was Saul’s age not so long ago.’

  ‘Ah, great.’ Jodi brightened. ‘Is he around? Saul would love to meet him. It’ll be wonderful for him to have a friend living nearby.’

  ‘He doesn’t live here any longer I’m afraid,’ Sebastian said. ‘Ah, here comes Saul now! Good man, let’s go.’

  Before Jodi could say anything else, Saul had flung himself over the fence and put his hand into Sebastian’s.

  Jodi perched on the fence and watched them trudge up the field to where a herd of cows stood silently eating grass. As Jodi went back inside and kept an eye on them from the kitchen window, she hoped to God Sebastian wasn’t a weirdo.

  Twenty minutes later, Sebastian delivered Saul back safel
y, nodded at Jodi and began to walk back to the combine harvester.

  ‘Thank you!’ Saul shouted.

  Sebastian turned and winked at him. ‘Bye, Saul.’

  By the time Jodi had given him some dinner, bathed him and tucked him into bed, Saul was wiped out. ‘Good day?’ she asked, stroking his hair.

  ‘The bestest.’ He yawned.

  As she made herself a cup of her Chinese herbal infusion the sun was dipping down behind the half-cut cornfield. Sighing, she wondered if she and Saul would be happy here. Although she knew there would be periods when she’d have to go on location for long spells in the future, she had a nine-month work-free break ahead.

  Darius and she had agreed to take things as they came. She’d probably hire a nanny to help out. Saul needed some stability. She wanted him to lay roots here and aimed to avoid taking him away during the school term. But that could all be sorted in good time.

  She had no idea what the future held for herself and Darius. She loved him and knew he loved her. But she guessed at some point they’d have to reassess things. As she pictured his beautiful smile and simmering, classic movie-star good looks, she sighed deeply. From the outside he was the perfect husband.

  She couldn’t wait to show him the cottage. Saul would be on a high after seeing his dad. She’d definitely feel better for his visit too. Not for the first time, Jodi wished their marriage was everything the fans thought it was. Still, she mused, things could be a lot worse.

  Chapter 4

  The following morning Francine was on schedule with the usual school-time rota. She was determined that yesterday’s lateness would not be repeated.

  As a working mum for the last twelve years, she had a rock-steady routine to which she stuck religiously. She knew people were awestruck by her capabilities, which pleased her. She baked bread several times a week and made sure that every day Carl and the children left the house with a cooked breakfast inside them and a healthy packed lunch in their bags.

  She showered and did her makeup before she woke the children. As far as her family was concerned, she was always a bright-eyed Mary Poppins figure. Annie the childminder arrived each day like clockwork and mothered the little ones until Francine returned from her job at the accountancy firm. She worked strictly from nine thirty to five but, unlike some of her colleagues, she never left a stone unturned. Her clients regularly commented on how efficient she was.

  ‘We knew all about it when you were on maternity leave, Francine. Nobody else operates with such attention to detail,’ said Mr Price, from one of her larger accounts.

  She prided herself on running a tight ship cheerfully and with apparent ease.

  ‘Up and at ’em, guys,’ she shouted up the stairs. ‘We can’t be late. Hurry up.’

  Various shouts came back to her as the children began to thump around and get dressed.

  ‘All okay there, darling?’ she asked Carl, as she breezed into the kitchen. ‘Don’t forget the carrot cake I baked for your colleagues. It’s a while since I sent one in. According to my notes, you reported that it went down a storm last time.’

  Francine was a firm believer in her boxes of index cards. People were always asking her in astonished tones how she managed to stay on top of things. ‘Ah what’s that saying?’ she’d reply. ‘“Ask a busy person to do an errand and it’ll be done immediately.” The more you do, the more you can do!’

  She had a small downstairs office in the house with a computer and several shelves of neatly lined-up boxes. Each plastic box was filled with alphabetically arranged index cards, and labelled with a printed sticker on the front. There was a box for Cara’s class at school. All the children’s names were logged on alphabetical cards, with any relevant information listed below. Francine was never left standing in front of Amy’s mother unable to remember that her name was Claire or that she was married to Frank and they had two other children called Mark and Suzanne. Those boxes stretched to dinner parties, the baking she’d sent into Carl’s work and many other vital aspects of their lives.

  ‘I’d better get going,’ Carl said, finishing his breakfast. ‘That was delicious.’

  ‘Darling? The carrot cake?’ she reminded him.

  ‘Thanks, love,’ Carl said, putting his arms around her and pulling her close. ‘Where would I be without you? All the guys at work envy me so much. I’m the only one with four children and yet I bring in the most home-baked goods, host the best dinners and parties, and I happen to think I’m married to the sexiest woman alive.’

  When her accountancy firm had offered her a redundancy package early that summer, she’d laughed. ‘Why on earth would I accept that? I’m the backbone of this place and one of the senior employees! Thanks for the offer but I’ll stay where I am, thanks.’

  Her smile had faded when the MD had held her gaze and told her in no uncertain terms that she should seriously consider the offer. ‘The employees who came in after you are being let go with a month’s notice and a month’s pay. This is the best we can do for you, Francine. The recession’s caught up with us.’

  Francine had held her head high. She’d thanked them and said she’d need time to think. ‘I’ll let you know my decision tomorrow,’ she’d said.

  Carl had been wonderful. He’d immediately said they’d manage. ‘That’s a decent amount of money they’re offering. Something else will turn up. Hey, who knows? Maybe you’ll enjoy having a bit more time for a change.’

  Francine had agreed and smiled. She’d waited until she was locked into the bathroom with the taps running before she’d broken down and bawled like a baby. She was being tossed aside. No matter what anyone told her, she knew what had happened. She was superfluous to requirements. End of.

  ‘You’ll adapt no matter what life throws at you, love,’ Carl had said, kissing her. ‘Look at how you’ve coped before, for crying out loud! Motherhood and a full-time job have been a piece of cake.’

  ‘I don’t know about that,’ she’d said, forcing a smile.

  ‘Well, I do.’

  She wasn’t about to point out to Carl that her glossy chestnut hair and smooth skin didn’t stay that way without a little help. Her beauty regime certainly didn’t come free, but that was an advantage of earning her own money.

  A chilling thought struck her. How was she going to pay for her regular hairdressing appointments and facials going forward? The mortgage on their gorgeous five-bedroom house in the much sought-after estate of Verbena Drive didn’t come cheaply. Thankfully, Carl had been made a partner at his accountancy firm several years before. Despite the recession he had some steady key accounts. He was one of the few people Francine knew of who was still getting bonuses too. All the same, she could do the maths. One wage was not going to allow for too many unnecessary treats.

  Carl was the light of her life. They’d been childhood sweethearts so it was no surprise when they had married at the age of twenty-four. They’d both just qualified as accountants and had enough money to buy a starter home. After only two months of trying she had got pregnant. It had been Francine’s idea to give the baby a name that began with C.

  ‘I get to be the mother ship in all aspects of the pregnancy and birth, so this way you get a look-in too,’ she’d reasoned. ‘I love the thought of you and the baby having the same initials.’

  Carl hadn’t thought of that, but once Francine had suggested it, he instantly warmed to the idea.

  Francine had taken to motherhood like a duck to water. Within three weeks their baby daughter Cara was sleeping through the night, and Francine was still baking treats once a week for Carl and his co-workers.

  ‘Jeez, your wife’s outdone herself with these miniature lemon meringue pies,’ Bob had mumbled, through a delectable mouthful.

  ‘You landed on your feet with her, all right,’ Alan agreed. ‘My missus was barely able to make it down the stairs for two years after our first came along. Not that I’m giving out, she’s a brilliant mum, but Francine certainly puts us all to shame.’
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br />   Annie came on board as soon as Francine’s maternity leave was up. As a local, she was what Francine called ‘traceable to the source and dependable’.

  All four children were born exactly two years apart. Cara, Conor, Craig and little Cameron all shared their daddy’s initials. Instead of buckling under the mounting pressure of a large family, Francine seemed to thrive even more. Her world was organised and she was as happy as a lark until that dreadful meeting a couple of months back.

  The next day she had saved face at the office by exclaiming her redundancy was a godsend: she and Carl were over the moon about it. ‘I’ve been toying with the idea of taking some time off and you’ve helped me make my mind up,’ she fibbed.

  Her colleagues had thrown her a lovely lunch. The MD had given her a voucher for the local luxury spa, with a glowing reference, and told her he wished her well. She assured them she was feeling positive about the future.

  Thus far, the children hadn’t noticed any change. She had always taken August off. But now time had run out for Francine. She was going to have to tell everyone she was unemployed – and she hadn’t the faintest idea how she was going to get the words out. All the women at school saw her as Mrs Dynamite. She’d dip into committee meetings, dole out jobs and fly on into work.

  Annie was expecting to take up where she’d left off in July. As soon as Francine told her the new situation, it would be all over the village, like a rampant Chinese whisper.

  She wasn’t ready to face that just yet. If need be, she’d pay Annie to come in for a week or so, until she was able to face the stares and pointing fingers. Looking down at her trouser suit, she felt marginally stupid for dressing in work gear. Sighing, she marched into the hallway.

  ‘This is your final warning,’ she called up the stairs.

  They all trooped down, except Cameron.

  ‘Where’s your little brother?’ she asked six-year-old Craig.

  ‘I dunno,’ he said sleepily, and tucked into a thick slice of toast.

  ‘Cameron! Are you dressed yet?’ she called.

  ‘I’m coming!’ he shouted, from the landing. A shoe flew past her ear.