Life Swap (40 page)

‘Yes. Six months ago. They’re downsizing. Last year wasn’t a great year, and they let a few of us go.’

‘But why doesn’t Amber know? I don’t understand how you can not tell anyone something like this. Six months? What, you leave for “work” every morning in your suit and it’s all a great big pretence? You spend your days here? That’s the craziest thing I’ve ever heard.’

‘You’ve never been in my situation so don’t judge me,’ Richard says harshly and Vicky sits back and apologizes.

‘I have a wife and two children to support, not to mention living in Highfield, which isn’t quite as taxing on my pocket as Greenwich, but it’s getting there.’

‘But how do you… I mean, what about money? Do you have –’

‘The answer is not much. I got severance pay, sure, but not nearly as much as I expected, and not nearly enough to support our life here. We’re pretty much out of money now, and I haven’t been able to find another job, and I don’t know what I’m going to do.’

The fear suddenly shows on his face, and Vicky finds that she is no longer looking at Richard the man but at Richard the boy, and as she sits there her heart goes out to him.

‘I’m so sorry,’ she whispers. ‘But I can’t believe you haven’t told Amber. You’ve got to tell her.’

‘I know,’ he says. ‘But I don’t know how. She loves her life here, and she spends money like it’s water and there’s just nothing left. I’m putting more and more debt on the credit card and the stress I’m under is enormous. That’s why I go to the aquarium. It’s about the only place I can relax and not think about anything, just turn off and gaze at the jellyfish.’

Vicky smiles gently. ‘I know what you mean. But Amber loves you, she’ll understand.’

‘Of course she loves me, but we have to make big changes, and I’m not sure Amber is ready for that, I’m not sure that’s what she bargained for when she married me.’

‘I disagree,’ Vicky says. ‘She married you for better or worse, and anyway, Amber told me she didn’t come from money, so it isn’t as if she isn’t used to struggling a little bit.’

‘But that’s why she doesn’t want to go back there. She thought she’d be safe marrying a Winslow.’

‘And she is safe because you love her and isn’t that what really matters?’

‘Only in fairy tales. In real life what matters is that you love each other and you’re able to send your kids to private school, and if you choose public school then you’re able to supplement it with ballet and judo and Suzuki music classes and God knows what else. In real life you have to make sure your wife is dressed in the latest Pucci dress to keep up with the Suzys or Nadines,’ he says bitterly, ‘and you have to pay a fortune to the hottest interior designers of the moment just so everyone can come in and see that you were the idiots that paid a fortune for a heinous lilac living room.’

Vicky splutters with laughter. ‘Oh God, I’m sorry,’ she says, crestfallen. ‘I mean, what you’re saying is true, and it’s not funny, but your living room is rather heinous. I didn’t want to say anything…’

‘I know,’ Richard says, managing a small smile. ‘And all of that stuff means so much to Amber. I don’t know how to tell her we can’t afford it any more.’

‘What are you frightened of?’ Vicky asks gently. ‘What’s your worst fear?’

There’s a long silence. ‘I don’t know,’ he says eventually. ‘Maybe that she’ll leave.’

‘But you can’t carry on without her knowing. You have to tell her.’

‘And how do I do that during this Life Swap
craziness? This isn’t the kind of thing that you can do over the phone.’

Vicky nods in agreement. ‘You know what?’ she says. ‘I think I’m done.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘I mean that we’ve been doing this for two weeks and I think it’s long enough. It’s a great experiment, and it’s taught me a couple of things. First, that it isn’t possible to really live another person’s life. Even if you’re wearing their clothes and doing all the things they do, you’re never really going to have a sense of how they live their lives; and secondly, it’s made me appreciate what I have. I always thought this was what I wanted, but now that I’m here I just want to go home. God knows how Amber is doing, but I’d be very surprised if she isn’t feeling the same thing. She’s left you and the children, for God’s sake; she’s probably ill with homesickness.

‘I’m going to call my editor in the morning,’ Vicky says firmly. ‘And tell her it’s enough. You need to tell Amber face to face and I need to go home.’

‘You would do that?’ Richard’s face is a combination of relief and fear.

‘I will do that. Just remember that old expression: there’s nothing to fear but fear itself. I promise you it won’t be as bad as you expect. You think that Amber is happy in Highfield but from everything she told me, she’s not as satisfied in her life as you think. God, no! Not you!’ Vicky says quickly, seeing Richard’s face fall. ‘Just this whole keeping up with the Joneses. It doesn’t
make her as happy as you think. To be honest, my impression was she just doesn’t know how to extricate herself from it. Maybe this will be just what you need, both of you. Maybe you can start again somewhere else. Amber told me that the only reason she stayed in Highfield was because you needed to commute to the city.’

‘She did? I thought the only reason we stayed in Highfield was because she really loved it.’

‘Well at least this proves one thing,’ Vicky smiles. ‘The two of you really do need to talk.’

‘Darling!’ Janelle’s voice on the phone brings up a wave of affection in Vicky. ‘How is everything? And naughty you, phoning. You’re not supposed to be in touch with anyone here!’

‘I know, Janelle, and I’m sorry, but something’s come up,’ and Vicky proceeds to tell Janelle the story, only leaving out the part with her and Richard in the swimming pool.

When Janelle has stopped shivering with excitement – ‘Oh darling, what a fabulous story this is going to be!’ – she sighs. ‘Well I would prefer you to stay another couple of weeks but if you really think you’ve got enough for the story, then I suppose I could talk to Amber and see how she feels. Such a shame, though, if she leaves. Stephen and I were planning on throwing a wonderful dinner party for her, although I suppose you could come instead and tell us all about it.’

Over in America Vicky rolls her eyes and grins.
Nothing ever changes. ‘Would you talk to Amber and see if she’d come home?’ Vicky asks.

‘I’ve got a better idea,’ Janelle says. ‘I can see her at your desk. Why don’t you ask her yourself?’

‘Amber Winslow,’ Amber picks up the phone sounding briskly professional.

‘Amber! It’s Vicky!’

There’s a pause. ‘I’m sorry. Vicky who?’

Vicky widens her eyes slightly. Two bloody weeks, she thinks, and now I’m Vicky who?

‘Vicky Townsley?’ she says, her voice slightly colder. ‘You know, your life swap?’

‘Oh Vicky!’ Amber gushes. ‘Oh my gosh! I’m so sorry. I thought you were a PR! Your phone never stops ringing with people calling from PR agencies. They’re driving me mad. How are you? And how are my children? And Richard? What are you doing calling me? I thought we weren’t allowed to make personal phone calls…’

‘I know all that,’ Vicky says. ‘And everyone is wonderful, they just miss you enormously. I think it’s been really hard on Gracie especially…’ Vicky hears Amber catch her breath.

‘The thing is,’ she continues, ‘I think I’ve really got enough. I mean, I’ve been here two weeks living your life, and whilst it’s been wonderful, I can’t see what’s going to happen in the next two weeks that will make the story any different or any better.’

‘So what are you trying to say?’

‘Well what I suppose I’m trying to say is, if you agree, could we cut it short and swap back now?’

‘How now?’ Amber asks. ‘You mean like tomorrow?’

‘Well yes. Not necessarily tomorrow, but sooner rather than later. To be honest, I just desperately miss my life, and I can’t see what either of us is going to get by doing this any longer. But obviously, if you disagree then we’ll stay.’

‘Disagree?’ Amber resists the urge to whoop for joy. ‘Are you crazy? I’m dying of homesickness and all I want to do is get back to my family. This is the best news ever! I’m coming home! Yahoo!’

‘Does that mean you haven’t had a good time?’ Vicky asks.

‘I’ve had a great time,’ Amber says. ‘But I honestly don’t know what I was thinking, writing in to you and then actually doing it. Although I have discovered that I adore working again.’

‘Are you writing?’

‘A lot more than I expected to be, and it seems I’m pretty good at it. I was thinking about maybe looking for a job when I get back, maybe something like a junior writer on a local paper or something.’

‘So you have found out things about yourself, then? It hasn’t been a wasted opportunity?’

‘Oh my gosh, no! I feel like I’ve had a dose of reality, being here. And I’ve learnt that I need something more in my life other than the League. I need to be useful and needed, to be defined by something other than being a wife, mother, or charity member.’

‘So should I start looking into flights?’ Vicky says.

‘Absolutely!’ Amber grins. ‘And does this mean I can talk to my kids now?’

‘I don’t see why not,’ Vicky says. ‘Hang on. Jared! Gracie!’ she yells up the stairs to the kids, who are in the playroom. ‘Pick up the phone. Someone wants to say hello!’

Chapter Thirty

Despite Richard’s fear at having to admit to his wife that he is not the successful hunter that she thinks he is, that he has failed at being the breadwinner, that for the past six months when he has looked in the mirror every morning he has seen failure written all over his face, there is something of a relief in finally coming clean.

The pressure of living a lie has taken its toll, his fear of not being the man his wife thinks he is causing him far more stress than he had realized. As angry as he was at Amber’s leaving, as much as he didn’t understand it, he couldn’t help but feel this was God’s way of punishing him for not living up to the Highfield husband standard.

The truth was that although he didn’t like not having a job, was ashamed at being made redundant and not being able to walk into something else immediately, he couldn’t honestly say that he loved his job. Not any more. Not for years.

In the beginning, when he first started trading, he loved the buzz of making money, the rollercoaster of emotions that came with each huge win and loss, the wins generally far outweighing the losses.

He wasn’t a kid any more, yet he found himself
surrounded by kids, getting younger and younger every year, all of them with the same hunger, passion and drive that he vaguely remembered having when he first came into the business.

He doesn’t remember when the drive started to disappear, but suspects it may have been around the time they moved to Highfield. Not that there was anything wrong with Highfield, but it had been one hell of a shock moving from the city to the suburbs, the commute was a killer, and Amber, who had wanted to move out to the suburbs to raise her children in a ‘more simple way’, seemed to be constantly stressed about how she was going to continue to impress the circles in which she moved.

The truth was that despite its first impressions, Highfield was far more sinister than Manhattan. At least Manhattan was obvious about what it was. You knew what you were getting in Manhattan. You knew your kids were going to be going through murder to get into one of the handful of private schools that anyone who was anyone had to go to; you knew you would have to pull every string you had to ensure they got the best start in life, and if that meant bringing in private tutors to ensure your three-year-old had a basic understanding of the French language to impress at the interview, then so be it.

But Highfield wasn’t supposed to be like that. Everyone who’d moved out here from the city said they’d chosen Highfield precisely because it wasn’t like that. Because it was in the country, and there were fields and
trees. Because they wanted their children to grow up in nature, and go to the ‘unbelievably good’ public schools, and because they all said they wanted to get out of the rat race.

They said they loved Highfield because it had New England charm with just enough city sophistication for the ex-Manhattanites to feel at home. They loved that it had an enormous arts festival every year, bringing people from near and far, all flocking to revel in the town that had been built up by artists and actors and writers in the twenties.

On paper Highfield had seemed perfect, but the more city people that have moved out there, the more city values they have brought with them, and Richard only has to look at Amber to see how little has actually changed since moving out here.

He loves Amber precisely because she’s not from that world. Because she came from nothing. Because she didn’t expect anything from him. But her humble beginnings gave her a chameleon quality – Amber was able to make herself into whoever she thought she needed to be to fit in, and although Richard knows that the Amber who goes to the League gala in Oscar de la Renta is not the Amber he married, he also knows that as long as they stay here this is who she is going to be.

Up until six months ago he didn’t mind. He was more than able to provide her with her wardrobe of beautiful clothes, her Amberley Jacks living room, her McMansion that puts all others to shame, but now he’s going to have to tell her it’s all over, and although he is
relieved that he can finally share his own shame, share his secret with the most important woman in his life, everything has to change, and he feels sick with fear at what Amber will say.

He had prayed it wouldn’t come to this. Had spent the first couple of months phoning everyone he knew, asking if there was anything available, calling headhunters he’d employed himself to find other team members, said members, ironically enough, still employed.

Everyone had been happy to meet with him, some buying lunch, some giving him flattering amounts of ‘face-time’ in their offices, but none had led to anything. ‘It’s a terrible market,’ he’d heard over and over again. ‘Even for someone in your position,’ and this had inevitably led to sob stories of valued employees of the bank, men far more senior, employed for far longer, who had been let go.