Page 6 of Wife After Wife
“Now, where did I put the cheese board?”
“Sod the cheese, Katie. Come and sit down. How have you been? Feeling better?”
“Oh, I’m fine, really.”
She wasn’t. And she felt as if she never would be again. But throwing herself into home renovations had helped. Cassandra was terribly kind, but Katie knew her friend thought she needed to move forward. Her battle-on attitude was like Katie’s stepmother’s—well intentioned but unhelpful.
“I saw that gynecologist you recommended,” she said, “and apparently all my bits and pieces are in good working order and there’s no reason we can’t have another baby right away. We’ve been trying.”
“Lordy,” said Cassandra with a cheeky grin. “Lucky you. You hit thejackpot with Harry, that’s for sure. Bloody gorgeous. Do birds flutter down and alight upon his golden head when he stands in the garden?”
Katie giggled. Yes, Harry could charm the birds out of the trees.
It should have been wonderful, the trying. But things had been feeling... off-kilter. She’d put Harry’s reluctance to make the most of her fertile days down to the stress of starting at Rose Corp. “Let’s just do it for pleasure and see what happens,” he’d said. “There’s no hurry, we’ve got years ahead of us.”
It was true. He was only twenty-two, probably too young to be a dad, and she was only twenty-seven.
But she couldn’t ignore the ache, the need to fill the hole that Summer had left. Harry hated sad talk, always turning the conversation to something more cheerful. She tried to get him to open up, reminding him how talking about his parents and brother had helped him deal with their deaths, but this time he just wanted to put it all behind him.
She changed the subject. “So, what’s this about Charles? What makes you think he’s been...”
“Playing away? Darling, they’re all at it, you know what they’re like. Idiot boys. Two years married and he’s already itching.” She took a large swig of her Chablis. “I won’t lie, Katie, it bloody hurt when I found out, but a word from Mama put me right. Part and parcel of marriage, she said. Grin and bear it, keep up appearances, etc., etc. Rein them in once in a while if scandal threatens. I don’t want a bloody divorce, I can tell you that.” She raised her glass. “This helps.”
“Do you know who? How did you find out?”
“Saw them, would you believe? Just some young thing from work, nothing serious, apparently. Do you think it’s better or worse when they say, ‘It meant nothing’? I can’t decide.”
Katie reached across and squeezed her arm.
Cassandra stared at her wineglass, twizzling it around by the stem. “I confronted him and he confessed. Said he’d never do it again. I don’t know if I believe him or not, but it doesn’t really matter, because the trust has gone now.” She sighed. “That’s it, Katie. It’s gone forever.”
“I’m sure it did mean nothing,” said Katie. “But, like you say, that’s not a great deal of comfort, is it?”
“None.”
They both stared at the table, then Katie said, “Do you think that’s true, what your mother said? That it’s the norm? I couldn’t bear it if I found out Harry had been with someone else.”
“Yes you could. And you’ll probably have to. Let’s face it,everyonefancies your husband, and he doesn’t exactly shun female attention. More fool us for marrying a couple of compulsive flirts. But I don’t think you need to worry just yet, darling, he’s still besotted.” She smiled. “Like I said, lucky you. But you know what? It doesn’t do to sit and brood, about husbands, children, or lack thereof—any of it. I know you’ve been up to your neck in home decorating, but maybe it’s time you got out of the house a bit more. Have you thought about going back to work?”
“Perhaps I should. Trouble is, my art history degree’s quite useless, and I don’t want to go back to cooking for bankers.” Katie had worked for a catering company that serviced the dining rooms of several City institutions, including the merchant bank that Charles worked for. “I was wondering about training as a teacher. Primary school, maybe.”
“Seriously? You’d be great, darling.”
“I was thinking it’d be a good job to fit around a family. If that ever happens.”
“Course it’ll happen. I tell you what, though. I could probably swing you a job in an art gallery in the meantime, just to get you out of the house. Charles’s brother has one on Wardour Street, and if he hasn’t got anything, he might know someone who has. With your degree and general loveliness, you’d be marvelous.”
“Do you think? That’d be nice, actually.”
“Leave it with me.”
“Thank you! You’re so kind,” said Katie.
Cassandra finished her second glass of wine and stood up, the pinebench scraping on the quarry tiles. “I have to dash, darling. Thanks for the wine, I’ll see you on your birthday.”
“Thanks for popping in, you’re always a tonic.”
As Katie opened the front door, Cassandra paused in buttoning up her coat. “Would you mind not discussing what I told you with Harry? I don’t want him to know, if he doesn’t already.”
