The Model Wife (31 page)

‘Where are you?’ she asked. In the background she could hear the noise of a television. No other clues.

‘Just staying with a friend from work.’

‘Anyone I know?’ Poppy asked blandly.

‘No, nobody,’ Luke snapped, then more contritely, ‘How’s Clara?’

‘She’s fine. Clara come and talk to Daddy.’

4
²
7

‘No, Daddy, go ’way!’ said Clara, who was disembowelling a toy raccoon.

‘Sorry.’ Poppy paused. ‘So when are you coming back?’ Into the silence, she asked, ‘Hello? Are you still there?’

‘I’m still here,’ he said eventually.

‘Luke, I know we’ve really messed things up but we do need to at least talk. For Clara’s sake.’

‘I know.’

‘So when are we going to do that?’

‘I’m not sure. Give me a few days to think about things.’

‘All right,’ said Poppy. She was about to hang up, when Luke added, ‘You wouldn’t wa.t me anyway. Now I’m unemployed. I’m not the rich, successful man you married any more.’

‘I didn’t marry you for your job. I married you because I loved you.’ Poppy hung up feeling as if she’d been stung. She thought she was becoming immune to pain but obviously not.

‘Mummy, why you crying? Don’t cry.’

45

Several days passed. Miraculously, Thea was told that she wouldn’t be blamed for the Minnie débâcle.

‘If Luke can’t keep his potty mouth shut that’s his fault, not mine,’ said Dean. ‘And, anyway, it brought in amazing viewing figures. So just fuck off and try to find some more tantrummy divas to throw water over Marco or tell Emma she shouldn’t wear such low-cut tops.’

Luke showed no sign of moving out of Thea’s flat. While she was at work, he went out and bought a toothbrush and shaving gear, some socks and underwear, a pair of trousers, a couple of shirts. He hung them in the wardrobe squashing Thea’s clothes and at the end of the day, he chucked them in the laundry basket. On Thursday morning, he got cross.

‘I don’t have any clean pants,’ he complained, as Thea pulled on her jacket and picked up her keys.

‘Sorry?’

‘I’ve run out of clean boxer shorts. Didn’t you wash any?’

Thea was aghast. ‘Er, no. Didn’t you?’

For a second Luke looked vaguely embarrassed. But only for a second.

‘I don’t know how to work your washing machine.’

Thea took a deep breath. She’d been doing a lot of this lately. ‘Luke, you’ve been to Kashmir and Somalia and Afghanistan and East Timor. You can work out how to use a washing machine.’

‘What temperature would you wash underwear at?’

‘Sixty degrees to be on the safe side. Now I have to go. I’ll be late for work.’

‘Just show me,’ he said, trying to negotiate, as if she was the head of some Taliban faction needing to be talked in to giving an interview.

‘I’m going to be late. I’m on thin ice at work already.’

Wrong thing to say.

‘At least some of us have work to go to. Show me. Please.’

So Thea explained to Luke how to fill the ball, put it in the drum and turn the dial to the required temperature.

‘Then when it’s all finished you get it out and hang it up in the bathroom.’ Before he could ask for guidelines on that, she continued, ‘I’m meeting my friend Rachel for a drink after work so I’ll be back quite late.’

‘What will I do for dinner?’ Luke sounded as if she’d told him he had to do a duty tour of ’Nam.

‘I don’t know. Get something from the shops? I’ve got to go now.’

It was a relief to swap the increasingly claustrophobic flat for the sweaty, unreliable Tube and even more of a relief to arrive at the office. The passing of Luke, like the passing of everyone in the media, had been swift and silent. Already, you could barely remember the days when Luke had reigned supreme. And Marco, although Thea would only have admitted it after having all her fingernails ripped out, was doing a much better job as chief anchor than she might have predicted.

430

‘It’s annoying, isn’t it?’ Lana said, as they sat watching the show from their desks in the newsroom.

‘He’s not nearly as slimy as he used to be,’ Thea agreed grudgingly. ‘It’s as if he’s suddenly grown up.’

‘Luke always seemed a bit bored, as if the job was slightly beneath him. You can tell Marco’s absolutely loving it. By the way how
is
Luke?’

Thea froze. The idea of the office finding out he was living with her horrified her, like a teenager might be terrorized by getting a pimple on the morning of the prom.

‘I’ve no idea,’ she said after a tiny beat.

‘Oh? I thought you might have heard from him.’ Lana’s face was a picture of innocence. ‘You were such good friends. Oh well, he’s probably too busy shagging his new piece of totty, whoever she may be.’

‘Mmm. God, look at the time. I must call a contact.’

Lana lowered her voice. ‘The rumour is he’s moved in with some other young woman. You’ve got to hand it to the old greaseball, he never gives up.’

Just then, to her relief, her phone rang. ‘Sorry,’ she mouthed insincerely. ‘Hey, Rach, do not even
think
about telling me you’ve gone into labour and won’t make it to the pub.’

‘What? Oof. Just felt a twinge. Yikes! What was that?’

‘Rachel! Are you OK?’

‘Ha, had you! Don’t worry, the baby’s under strict instructions to stay in. I’ve got more important issues to attend to than the birth of my own child.’

‘Get its priorities straight from the start,’ Thea agreed. ‘Mummy’s friends will always take precedence.’

43
¹

‘Absolutely. Anyway, I was calling to say all’s in order and I’ll see you at half eight.’

‘In the vegan Indian?’

‘No, bugger that, in the Prince Alfred. As of a month’s time I’m never going to go out again, so I might as well enjoy my last days in the boozer while I still can.’

On her way to the pub, Thea felt liberated like the man in the final scene of
Midnight Express
. This was her first evening off, as she couldn’t help thinking of it, since Luke moved in. She had had to put up with six whole evenings of cricket and bad Westerns with Luke hogging the remote control. Evenings that she would usually have spent wallowing in a Jo Malone bath with a face pack on and Bob playing on her podcast were now ruined by Luke rattling the door handle saying, ‘Are you going to be long? I need a pee.’ Evenings when she had to rinse Luke’s shaving hairs from the basin before she brushed her teeth and where sex had been transformed overnight from a source of unspeakable bliss into another chore that had to be performed, whether she was in the mood or not.

Thea hadn’t thought it would be like this, but then she hadn’t thought anything much, she realized. Her dreams about Luke had never featured any sort of domesticity, because domesticity just didn’t float her boat. She’d somehow imagined them moving from hotel room to hotel room, with staff to make the beds and bring them meals under silver domes, with the buzz of the story they’d covered that day to drive their conversation.

Home was somewhere to be alone. She realized how much she relished her evenings of silence after the chaos of the office, her weekends with a packet of Skittles and a fat detective novel. She remembered that all her adult relationships had come to an end when her boyfriends had wanted to go round Ikea with her and have dinner parties. Why did she think things were going to be any different with Luke?

And then there was Jake. She hadn’t heard from him and she didn’t blame him. Every day, she thought about calling him. Emailing at least. But every day she restrained herself. She liked Jake, liked him quite a lot. She’d had good sex with him. But she was with Luke now and they had to make things work. After so many years of wanting him, it was too humiliating to admit she might have changed her mind.

‘What can I get you?’ she asked her friend, who was slumped on a banquette. Then she noticed the wine nestling in an ice bucket and the two glasses.

‘Rachel! What’s happened?’

‘Oh, don’t you start. I couldn’t stand it any longer. I’m only going to have a glass. Or two. I mean, the bastard’s cooked now, so what difference can it make? Anyway, what about you? What about Luke? Is it going any better?’

‘Not really.’ Thea filled her glass. ‘It’s so weird, we’ve been all over the world together in intense situations, under huge pressure, being shot at, but living in a flat in Stockwell seems to be pushing us to the limit.’

‘It’s not quite as glamorous is it?’

‘Excuse me? Are you saying my flat’s not glamorous?’ They both giggled, thinking of the slightly peeling paintwork. Then Thea sighed. ‘You’re right, it’s not. Luke keeps complaining that it’s studenty. I suppose he’s used to something more… homely. But I hate all that. And he’s used to someone cooking him dinner every evening and doing his washing and he simply can’t handle the fact that I don’t do that sort of thing.’

‘Maybe you’re going to have to start.’ Rachel shrugged. ‘I mean, I do all that for Dunc.’

‘But I
can’t
,’ Thea said. ‘It’s just not me.’

‘It wasn’t me either, but you learn.’

‘But…’ Watching her friend’s philosophical expression, Thea had the sense that she’d spent her whole life playing a game but with the wrong rule book. ‘But did suffragettes throw themselves under horses so we could end up doing the washing and cleaning and cooking as well as having jobs?’

‘And doing the childcare.’ Rachel patted her enormous bump, somewhat apprehensively. ‘At least you don’t want any part of that.’

‘Are you having second thoughts?’

‘I was wondering about calling Angelina Jolie and seeing if she fancied adding a newborn Caucasian to her brood. But I doubt my baby will be pretty enough for her and Brad.’ Rachel took a gulp of wine. ‘Yeah, Thea, of course I’m having doubts. I’m shit scared what the future’s going to bring. I used to think: why do women make this big deal about juggling? I’d just hire a nanny and everything would go on as before. But even though I haven’t met the bastard yet I already love him so much I’m not sure I can go off to the office all day and leave him behind.’ Rachel’s face was both dreamy and troubled. ‘I wish I could rely more on Dunc.’

‘He’s still saying he’ll never change a nappy?’

‘No, well, not quite. But he’s insisting we do a sort of contract that he’s allowed out three nights a week with the lads.’

‘Allowed! You’re not a bloody character in a Bernard Manning sketch. Does he think you’ll be waiting for him with a rolling pin?’

‘No. But…’ Rachel sighed. ‘It’s hard, Thea. I can’t tell him, but I do wish he’d go out less. It’s funny. I wanted a baby so much I didn’t really care how Dunc fitted in to it all, but now… I
need
him. I’m like some pathetic Mills & Boon heroine. And the bastard will need him too.’

Prickles of guilt tingled on Thea’s spine. Why had she never thought about Luke like this before? However dire both his wives, they must have needed him too. Why had she been so arrogant to think she could set her sights at him?

‘Are you OK?’ Rachel was saying. ‘You look a bit weird. Probably bored by me and my silly troubles. What are
you
going to do? You’ve got what you always wanted and now you’re not so sure about it.’

‘I probably just have to give it time,’ Thea said, but she didn’t sound convinced. ‘It’s a big adjustment, but we’ll get there.’

‘So Luke has said he’s staying for good?’

‘Not in so many words, but he’s showing no sign of leaving.’

‘Well, if he
is
staying then make sure he does it all properly. Don’t let things drift like Dunc and me. You ought to get married.’

‘Yeah. I guess.’ Thea’s reaction was so lukewarm, Rachel put down her glass and stared at her.

‘You’ve fallen out of love with Luke, haven’t you?’

‘No!’

‘You have. It’s like me and the bastard. It was all a lovely dream and now it’s become reality it’s no fun any more. You…’ But before Rachel could say any more true, disquieting things, Dunc walked through the door.

‘All right, my ladies?’ He patted Rachel on the head in the way one might a pet cat. To Thea’s annoyance she simpered up at him. ‘How are you doing? Any more twinges?’

‘No, I’m fine. Must go to the loo though. I have to pee about sixteen million times a day,’ she explained as she stood up laboriously. Thea wondered how long it would be before she was forced to listen to an in-depth description of the contents of the bastard’s nappy.

‘Can I get you a drink?’ Dunc asked as his partner waddled away.

‘No, I’m all right.’ She nodded at the bottle. ‘You might want to get yourself a glass.’

‘I don’t really like white,’ Dunc said, as a voice behind them cried, ‘Thea!’

Thea turned round. A very attractive woman, with red hair in a shaggy, feathery cut was standing there. She wore an expensive-looking shearling gilet and had a wide, painted mouth. Fear coursed through Thea’s veins like electricity.

‘Hannah! How are you?’ She jumped up and kissed Luke’s first wife on both cheeks. She and Hannah had always had a relationship that was about as genuine as an orgasm in a porn film. ‘You look great.’ Annoyingly, she really did; far, far greater than when she’d been with Luke.

‘Thanks.’ Hannah Creighton, formerly Norton, smirked. ‘Been road testing some new creams for
Elle
. It’s fabulous. They’re sending me to a spa in the Maldives next month. The joys of single life: not having to worry about feeding Luke, or attending dull as shit functions with him. I can just cover my face in Crème de la Mer and go to bed at seven and then bugger off for a month if it suits me.’ She smiled. ‘Sorry, getting ahead of myself. So how are you, Thea? I’d heard you were back from the States. Enjoying life at the
Seven Thirty
. Must be eventful, huh?’

‘I’m really well. How are the children?’ Thea didn’t want any dwelling on her private life.

‘The children?’ Hannah looked as blank as if she’d asked her about weather patterns in Paraguay. ‘Oh. Them. Well, they love their boarding schools and of course every other weekend Luke takes them out so I suddenly have all this me-time. It’s wonderful.’ Her eyes rested on Dunc. ‘Hello, I’m Hannah Creighton.’

‘Duncan. I was just getting some drinks. Would you like one?’

Please, no! thought Thea. Fortunately, Hannah shook her head. ‘No, thank you, Duncan. I’m meeting someone.’ Dunc moved off to the bar. Hannah stared after him, appreciatively.

‘Gosh, Thea, look at him. He’s gorgeous.’

‘Do you think?’ Thea stared after Dunc, wondering why she was the only one who couldn’t see it.

‘Absolutely. Look at those buns! I’m so pleased for you. I used to worry about you not finding someone because you were so wrapped up in your job. Miss Moneypenny.’

‘Sorry?’

Hannah grinned with distinct malice. ‘That’s what Luke always called you. His faithful aide. Always there for him.’ As Thea sat, too stunned to even begin to form a retort, Hannah continued, ‘Well, we all move on. So Poppy kicked him out. Do you know who he’s living with now?’

‘No,’ said Thea, sounding like a choirboy who’d sat on a drawing pin.

‘Nor do I. He’s keeping very schtum. But the girls will tell me.’ Hannah’s laugh sounded uncannily like Vincent Price in Thea’s ancient copy of Michael Jackson’s
Thriller
. ‘Poor thing, whoever she is. She’ll be in for a rude shock. I’ve never felt more liberated since I left Luke, I… Oh, hello!’