The Model Wife Part 37

'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 s.h.i.t 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 b.a.s.t.a.r.d 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 b.l.o.o.d.y 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 need him. I'm like some pathetic Mills & Boon heroine. And the b.a.s.t.a.r.d will need him too.' him. I'm like some pathetic Mills & Boon heroine. And the b.a.s.t.a.r.d will need him too.'

p.r.i.c.kles 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 you going to do? You've got what you always wanted and now you're not so sure about it.' 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 is staying then make sure he does it all properly. Don't let things drift like Dunc and me. You ought to get married.' 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 gla.s.s and stared at her.

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

'No!'

'You have. It's like me and the b.a.s.t.a.r.d. 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 b.a.s.t.a.r.d'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 gla.s.s.'

'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 s.h.a.ggy, 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 o.r.g.a.s.m in a p.o.r.n 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 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 s.h.i.t functions with him. I can just cover my face in Creme de la Mer and go to bed at seven and then b.u.g.g.e.r 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 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. 'h.e.l.lo, 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 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, h.e.l.lo!'

A man laid his hand on Hannah's shoulder. He had wispy grey hair in a bad combover and wore a rust-coloured raincoat that was shiny with age. He was an obvious all-day drinker, who only saw daylight since the smoking ban had forced him to nip outside for a twice hourly cigarette. Thea's stomach squelched the way it always did when approached by a down and out. Was he going to hara.s.s Hannah for spare change? But instead, he was holding out his hand.

'h.e.l.lo, I'm Jay, Hannah's boyfriend.'

'I... uh... I'm Thea.'

438.

'Come on, Jay,' Hannah snapped. The end of her nose had turned an unfetching pink. Thea realized she was mortified. 'Nice to see you,' she said briskly to Thea. 'We should catch up properly soon. Have lunch.'

'Lovely,' Thea muttered, just as Dunc returned with his wine gla.s.s.

'Lovely to meet you you, Duncan. Look after this lady, she's very special.'

'Er, yeah.'

She moved off, just as Rachel reappeared.

'Was that who I thought it was?'

'It was,' said Thea. She felt as if she'd just been drenched by a bus driving way too fast through a puddle.

's.h.i.t. What did she say to you?'

'She thought I was Thea's boyfriend.' Dunc chortled as if this was as ridiculous a prospect as finding a Burger King open on Mars.

With an enormous effort of will, Thea got a grip on her tilting self. 'More importantly though, have you seen her her boyfriend?' To her relief, her voice sounded normal. She nodded towards the corner where Hannah and Jay were sitting. He was nursing a pint, she had a gla.s.s of wine. They weren't exactly indulging in hilarious repartee, more looking as if they were mulling over a suicide pact. boyfriend?' To her relief, her voice sounded normal. She nodded towards the corner where Hannah and Jay were sitting. He was nursing a pint, she had a gla.s.s of wine. They weren't exactly indulging in hilarious repartee, more looking as if they were mulling over a suicide pact.

'Christ, I'd imagined some Enrique Iglesias stud. Are you sure that's her boyfriend, not her granddad?'

'That's what happens to women on the verge of fifty,' said Dunc with infuriating smugness. 'Doesn't matter how much Botox you've had, how much jogging you do. You've still got to sc.r.a.pe the bottom of the barrel just to find someone to go for a drink with.'

'What a ridiculously s.e.xist thing to say,' Thea snapped. But the evidence lay before them. Her head swam as she tried to take in all this new information. She was Luke's Miss Moneypenny while Hannah's stud was a sad old man in a raincoat. Could it be that all Hannah's other boasts about being so ridiculously happy were just as shaky? Was everyone lying? Thea was beginning to think it might be time to start telling the truth.

46.

Thea slept badly that night. The Miss Moneypenny remark taunted her like a playground bully, forcing her eyes open, even as Luke slept silently beside her. Hannah was right. Even if she wasn't a desk-bound secretary, she'd still been his stooge, sitting up straighter every time he entered the office, yearningly watching his departing figure, smiling indulgently when faced with his flings, masking her inner torment. She'd always kidded herself she and Luke were equals, when in fact he'd been laughing at her. She'd thought she'd played it cool, but now she realized he'd always known about her devotion and had been happy to abuse it.

All the doubts that had been building about being with Luke exploded like a giant, pus-filled spot. In the red glow of the digital clock, Thea looked at the man she'd been in love with for so long and shook her head. Disgust at so many wasted years consumed her. Years when she could have learnt another language, studied astrophysics, written poetry, cultivated a garden. Well, OK, maybe not the garden, but she could have become editor of the Seven Thirty News Seven Thirty News rather than sticking in a producer's role so she got to spend more time with Luke. Years which she could have spent forming relationships with sensible, down-to-earth men. Even if they did look like Hobbits. Thea knew there was no point following that line of thought. rather than sticking in a producer's role so she got to spend more time with Luke. Years which she could have spent forming relationships with sensible, down-to-earth men. Even if they did look like Hobbits. Thea knew there was no point following that line of thought.

44:.

She didn't want to waste any more time; she had to end things as soon as possible. She'd do it subtly she decided, as the dawn chorus began. She'd already broken up one family through her thoughtless selfishness, so she'd try to mend another by pushing him back in Poppy's direction, so poor little Clara would have a father again.

They had a silent breakfast over the papers. At the end, Thea asked, 'Are you going to see Clara soon?'

She expected the usual 'I don't know,' but instead Luke replied, without looking up from the Guardian Guardian. 'I texted Poppy this morning, while you were in the shower. I'm going over there tomorrow afternoon.'

'Good.'

'I'll bring back some of my stuff.'

Thea looked up in alarm. 'How much stuff? There's not a lot of room here.'

'Just a few boxes of books. I need them if I'm going to get on with researching mine. I told you the publishers want it out sooner than later, now I'm controversial.' He waggled his fingers in the form of quote marks. Thea hated people who did that. How had she never noticed before? 'You'll have to meet Clara at some point, I suppose. Though she might be a bit wary of you initally. Maybe Brigita could chaperone her.'

'Brigita?'

'Her nanny. And then maybe meet the other kids. If Hannah's OK with it.'

Thea's head jerked up.

'Hannah?'

'Well, yeah. I might as well tell her sooner rather than later. I guess she might be a bit weird about us, seeing as she knows you and everything. But my sense is she'll prefer you to Poppy because you're not young, blonde and gorgeous.'

'Oh. Right.'

'And you're obviously not a bimbo.' A thought struck Luke. 'G.o.d, I wonder what she'll call you you in the column? Should be interesting.' in the column? Should be interesting.'

'Luke,' said Thea after a cautious pause, 'have you told anyone else about... ?' She wanted to say 'us' but it seemed the wrong choice of word. 'About the fact you're living here?'

'Not yet,' he said. 'Like I say, I'll tell the children first, then Hannah. Then we can make it official.'

Poppy was keeping herself busy. She was going out virtually every night. Days were full now too: if she wasn't sleeping off the night before, she was having treatments or meetings with various companies who wanted her to endorse their products. Without officially agreeing to anything, Brigita was working five days a week and big chunks of the weekend and her wages were so high Poppy was barely breaking even, despite the money she was making. She thanked heaven that the joint account still seemed to be working, while trying not to worry about how she'd manage when it was inevitably stopped. She knew if she divorced Luke she would get some kind of settlement, but the idea of pursuing a Heather Mills type vendetta appalled her. So long as he gave Clara something, Poppy didn't want to take a penny.

Finally, Luke rang. They had a terse conversation when he said he'd come over on Sat.u.r.day to see Clara.

On Sat.u.r.day Clara was very grouchy, even by her own high standards.

'Daddy's coming to see you,' Poppy told her over breakfast. When there was no reply, she asked, 'Darling, are you going to eat your cereal?'

'No.' Clara pushed her plate away.

'Has it got too much milk in it?' That was usually the crime.

'Uf.'

'Or maybe there's not enough?'

'Oog.'

'Just have a bite. One for Mummy.'

'Nowagh!' Clara began howling. Poppy tried to keep her cool.

'A bite for Brigita.'

'Go 'way, Mummy.' Clara continued to weep bitterly. 'I wanna sleep.'

'Really?' Poppy felt a flicker of alarm. Farting loudly in public places, getting water all over the bathroom floor and refusing all green vegetables were part of Clara's repertoire. Sleep was not. 'Don't you want to watch CBeebies?'

'Nooo!'

So she put Clara back in her cot and had an unexpectedly peaceful morning in a scented bath. Wrapped in a towel, she went to check on her daughter. An hour later she crept in again. Clara was still asleep, her blonde hair sweaty and tousled. Poppy felt her forehead. She was definitely hotter than normal, so she let her carry on sleeping until lunchtime. Then Clara woke up, quickly drank two beakers of water, ate a small piece of bread, screamed the house down when Poppy tried and failed to take her temperature and went back to sleep.

Poppy was wondering if she should call NHS Direct when the doorbell rang. Opening the door, she caught her breath. She'd forgotten how handsome Luke was, she'd also forgotten how old. He looked much more tired than she remembered: greyer, looser somehow, as if the stuffing had been taken out of him.

'h.e.l.lo.'

'Hi. Where's my fairy monkey?'

'She's asleep. I think she's got some kind of a bug.'

Luke looked as if he'd been slapped in the face. 'Can't I see her?'

'Of course you can. But I don't think she's going to be much company.'

'I've missed her so much.'

Poppy bit her lip. 'She's missed you too. Come in.'

Clara was still fast asleep. Her breathing was laboured, her cheeks were very red.

'Is she OK?'