Page 101 of Wife After Wife
“You should come and live near us,” said Megan. She and Charles had moved to a pretty town house in Islington. Megan loved it there, but Charles, a staunch Tory, disliked the champagne socialists who’d colonized the area. The leader of the opposition, Tony Blair, was a neighbor, and apparently the gentrified street was full of “sun-dried tomato eaters.”
“Chelsea would be more you, Harry,” said Charles. “But you’ll have to move fast. The Russians are buying it all up. They’re coming off the plane from Moscow with suitcases full of cash. Of course, we’re encouraging them to invest all their lovely rubles with us, but they’re also snapping up property like nobody’s business, especially round here.”
“Where are they getting all their money from?” asked Ana.
“Asset sales, oil—much of it highly dodgy, but the bank hears no evil, sees no evil. Harry, far be it from me to talk business tonight, but seriously, let me know if you’re looking for investors.”
“Interesting,” Harry replied. “Are your Russian buddies likely to be interested in satellite TV, perhaps in the sports area?”
“Undoubtedly. Especially if football’s involved.”
“Then we should have lunch next week—I’ll get Janette to ring you and we can set the footballski rolling.”
•••
News of Ana’s pregnancy made no difference to Katie’s stance on divorce. Ana tried not to care that her child would be born “out of wedlock,” as her father insisted on calling it when they told her parents the happy news.
They were in Kent for the weekend, and Ana and her mother were peeling vegetables for Sunday lunch.
“At least you won’t be one of those brides waddling down the aisle in the nick of time,” said Liz. “Such a vulgar look. Just make sure everything’s in place for when the divorce finally comes through. You want to move fast when it’s someone like Harry.”
Ana stopped peeling and looked at her mother. “What do you mean, ‘someone like Harry’?”
“Don’t play the ingenue, darling. There will always be women keen to take your place, and men are easily led. You’ll be up to your neck in nappies and exhausted from lack of sleep. It’s all too easy to let things slide.”
They already have.
Ana had been mortified when Harry stopped wanting sex, fobbing her off with one lame excuse after another. Finally he’d confessed to an irrational fear of harming the baby, following his traumatic experiences with Katie. It had been a relief to find out the reason. All she could hopewas that after the baby was born, he’d be ready, if not desperate, to resume normal relations.
“I intend to employ a nanny, Mum.”
“That’s good. Just make sure she’s not too pretty.”
Really? What century was her mother from?
“Ana, we’ve never talked properly about Merry. Do you ever think about how she must be feeling?”
Ana’s stomach dropped. Her sister had been on her mind, but she’d been putting off dealing with the situation.
“I thought not.”
“It was just a fling, Mum. They were both married.”
“He led her on. She thought he’d get a divorce and marry her, after Will died.”
“He didn’t lead her on, and he never said he’d marry her.”
“Right, well. I’ve only heard her side of the story, but he broke her heart. And look what’s happened to your relationship with her. Can’t you make it up, darling? It’s so upsetting for your father and me. You used to be so close.”
Her mother was right. Ana missed her sister, and whereas Harry seemed to have wiped her completely from his conscience, Merry had been playing on hers.
“I thought you were a feminist, Ana. How does the way Harry treated Merry—and his wife, actually—fit in with that whole sisterhood idea?”
Her mother was pulling her up on her feminist principles. How had it come to this?
“Look, I’ll get in touch. She’ll probably hate me even more now that I’m having his baby, but I’ll try my best.”
“Good. There’s one more thing, before the men get back from the pub.”
