Lindsay Armstrong - From Waif To His Wife

It was still sitting in her bag.

And she was now committed to going back to him for the time being anyway. But could she handle him knowing the truth for however long that “time being” might take?

She didn’t think so…

THREE months later, Maisie nursed Susannah in her arms and sang softly to her on the patio at Raby Bay.

Wes was curled up at her feet and Susie was watching the pattern of light and shade the grapevine was creating. Then her lashes sank and she fell asleep.

Maisie rocked her a little longer, kissed her softly then she put her into her pram and adjusted the net. Susie didn’t stir.

‘There you go, Wes,’ Maisie murmured to the dog, ‘one contented baby! We’re getting pretty good at this!’

She got up and wandered to the edge of the patio where she stood looking out over the water but as if she was looking far, far away to a distant horizon…

That was when Rafe, who’d watched the little tableau of a girl and her baby unseen from inside, came to a decision.

Susie was thriving now and the ordeal of the neonatal clinic was well and truly behind them. Some complications had arisen but Maisie had been marvellous in the way she’d coped, refusing ever to lose hope.

Of course, it had been an anxious time when the baby had first come home, but once again Maisie had proved equal to the task.

And now she was a calm, relaxed mother and you could never doubt she adored her baby.

She was also looking well and slim again but there was something elusive about her; just occasionally, the smallest hint of a haunting sadness.

He had no doubt what it was, just as he had no doubt the time had come to release her. But how?

In stages, he thought, that’s obviously going to be the best way.

‘I took a bit of a liberty with your house,’ Rafe said that evening.

Maisie glanced at him across the polished surface of the dinner table. They were eating Grace’s superb rack of lamb studded with rosemary tips and basted with a blend of olive oil and sun-dried tomatoes. There were side dishes of cauliflower au gratin and snow peas.

It was just over seven months since they’d first met and summer had slid into autumn.

Maisie had a new hairstyle, a shorter, elegant bob but still curly. She wore a sage-green waistcoat over a long-sleeved ivory blouse and black velvet trousers.

‘You did?’

He nodded. ‘Remember you told me about the plans your father had to renovate it? Well, I went ahead and got it done.’

She blinked at him. ‘So-all the time I thought it was rented out and not being a financial burden on you the opposite was happening?’

He lifted his shoulders. ‘It’s been a drop in the ocean.’

She frowned suddenly. ‘What about the Amelie? I’ve just realised Jack never came back to me, so I suppose it’s still for sale?’ She looked a question at him.

He shook his head.

‘What does that mean?’

‘It never went onto the market but it’s in good shape.’

Maisie discovered she had difficulty with her voice. ‘Why?’

‘I got the impression it meant a lot to you. By the way, I’m off in a few days on a business trip for about a month.’

Maisie blinked again at this apparent non sequitur.

‘All business?’ she queried, and paused to ponder that his business lifestyle certainly wouldn’t fit in with a proper married life. She articulated the thought. ‘That seems rather a long time.’ She put her knife and fork down and took a sip of water.

‘All business, all the same.’

‘Poor you,’ she murmured and fingered the edge of her linen place mat before she took up her knife and fork again.

No sign of regret or even much interest, he reflected, but had he expected any? No, but that had to make it all the easier.

‘When I come back,’ he went on, ‘I’ll be moving into the apartment.’

She froze as she suddenly made the connection with her house and boat. ‘Does-does that mean you’re throwing me out of here?’ She closed her eyes immediately in frustration-what a thing to say!

‘No. I think we should stay married for a year at least, not only for Susie’s sake but also the comment it might cause otherwise. If you’re happy here that’s fine, and you should stay as long as you like.’ He gestured. ‘I just wanted you to know that somewhere you seemed to love is ready and available.’

Maisie sought desperately for composure. ‘Won’t it cause comment-me living here, you living elsewhere?’

‘Not nearly the comment a divorce after only a few months would. Anyway,’ he shrugged, ‘I often spend the night there when I’m flat out rather than driving here.’

It was true.

‘I suppose you’d like to be able to get on with your life? I mean, that’s quite natural, I’m not saying you shouldn’t or anything like that,’ she hastened to assure him, but, as the full implications of what this meant struck her, she pushed her half-full plate away suddenly.

Of course, there might be one special area of his life he wanted to get on with; women. Perhaps he’d already done so while she’d been so caught up with Susie so as not to even wonder lately?

‘The same,’ he paused and watched her for a long moment, ‘could be said for you, no doubt.’

Maisie blinked several times, as if it was a completely new concept she’d been presented with.

‘I…’ She stopped and cleared her throat. Then she propped her elbows on the table and rested her chin on her hands. ‘You know, I’ve been living from day to day with Susie, so it hadn’t really occurred to me.’

He finished his meal and placed his napkin on the table. ‘Well, there’s no urgency about it.’

She opened her mouth to say ‘So time has told you that being married to me doesn’t suit you, Rafe?’ but changed her mind because she really didn’t need to be hit on the head with it, did she?

‘Thank you,’ she said quietly instead. ‘I-Oh, there’s Susie. I’m trying out a new routine in the hope that she might just start to sleep through the night.’ She looked rueful.

He smiled briefly. ‘Just one thing, Maisie.’ He waited until he got her full attention. ‘Don’t disappear on me.’

Discomfort caused her cheeks to warm slightly but then she looked at him steadfastly.

And he had to acknowledge to himself that her brush with life in the raw had added maturity and character to her so that now there was a third persona, or perhaps only one now. A blending of Maisie and Mairead that was-well, he thought, he wouldn’t go into that.

‘No, I won’t, I promise,’ she said. ‘Will you excuse me? She’s really starting to sound desperate.’

The next two days were dreadful for Maisie.

She was forced to admit that she’d been living in another bubble for the last three months, cushioned, insulated, from her feelings for Rafe and the pain they brought her.

But that bubble had well and truly burst with this news and she was back on the rack. Even Susie sensed her agony and became fractious and weepy. And a new screw had been added to the rack-the thought of him with a mistress…

I’ve got to do it, Maisie thought desperately after a sleepless night walking the floor with Susie. I’ve got to somehow make him see I can’t go on like this. I need to confront my demons, I need to get out now. No long-drawn-out disengagement, I couldn’t stand it, and I don’t care what the rest of the world thinks.

To make matters worse, although at least Rafe had been spared that long, interrupted night because he’d stayed in the apartment, she was running out of time. He was due to go overseas the day after next which meant she only had one night left to talk to him.

As it happened, she didn’t even get that. She had a purely routine doctor’s appointment early in the afternoon the next day and when she got home there was a message from Rafe on the answering machine saying that something had come up and he’d had to advance his travel plans, so he wouldn’t be seeing her before he left. He’d added that if she had any problems to get in touch with Jack. His last words were, ‘Take care of you two, Maisie Wallis.’

She was galvanised into a flood of emotion as the machine clicked off. A thoroughly old-fashioned and wifely burst of temper for one. Something was always coming up and the man could never be a suitable husband or father because he was a machine! An emotion that conveniently ignored how it had worked in her favour in the past, how it had taken the burden of his presence off her…

But that was immediately replaced by a sense of panic. She couldn’t live the next month in the agony of indecision she was going through. She couldn’t go away, she’d given her word!

Perhaps he hasn’t left yet, she thought suddenly, and was galvanised into action rather than emotion this time.

She flew into the kitchen to find Grace and begged her to look after Susie for a couple of hours.

Grace, a great fan of the baby and with plenty of experience to call on anyway, was only too happy to oblige. She even advised Maisie to take her time. ‘I’ll make her a bottle if things get desperate. Off you go!’

Maisie flew, speed-dialling on her mobile phone at the same time.

But Rafe’s number, as often happened, was on the answering service. She cut the call without leaving a message and called Jack Huston.

‘Jack-has he left yet? Sorry, it’s Maisie here.’

‘No, I think he’s still at the apartment, Maisie. Is something wrong?’

‘No.’ She swallowed. ‘No! Just something I forgot to mention to him, Jack. I tried his mobile but it’s on answer. I-It’s not that important.’ She hoped she sounded convincing.

‘Try the apartment landline,’ Jack advised.

‘Thanks, I will!’ She rang off and did just that. The line was engaged.