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‘Marriage, my dear, is so much more than love and vows. It’s also a business merger, where you each bring something that the other needs. He needed someone who understood him, and in return he made sure I had the lifestyle I wanted. You and James are the same. Why else do you think we were so happy for him to marry you, when you’re from such different backgrounds?’
‘What do you mean, different backgrounds?’
‘Oh, come on. You can’t possibly be that naïve. Yes, you had a private education and you speak very nicely, but your family has no pedigree, does it? Your father is a self-made man, a market trader made good, essentially. He may be rich, but he has no class, no breeding. By marrying James, you gained a level of social respectability, as well as a title, that your father could never have given you. Surely you see that?’
I’m horrified. I didn’t realise such ridiculous attitudes still existed.
‘And what does James get out of it?’ I ask her, although I think I already know the answer.
‘Money, of course. If he can just keep this place going until you inherit, all his problems will be solved.’
‘Is that really all I am to you? A cash cow?’ I ask, acidly. I’m not sure what’s more upsetting at the moment, the video of James and Becky that’s still playing in my head, or the brazen way that Rosalind is trashing me and my upbringing.
‘Certainly not, darling! We liked you too, and we could see that he was very smitten with you. We did worry about how you’d adapt to life in the country, but you’ve done splendidly, on the whole. It’s a pity about your fertility problems, but James tells me you’re addressing those.’
‘I’m sorry?’ I interrupt her, sharply. While it’s true that James and I have been unable to conceive and we’re due to start IVF when we get to the top of the waiting list, I thought we’d agreed not to say anything to Rosalind about it, mainly to spare his blushes.
‘Don’t worry,’ she continues blithely. ‘Your secret is safe with me. James just happened to mention that you were having some difficulties, and you might need to spend some time away having treatments. I wish you every success, dear. James needs an heir. If you can’t produce one, that will be an issue. Unless…’
She stops dead. An idea has obviously come to her, and I can see she’s decided it’s best not to share it with me. Frankly, I can’t see how she can come out with anything more awful than she’s managed already, so I might as well hear it all.
‘Unless what?’
‘Well, don’t take this the wrong way, but if you’re not able to have a child, and Becky is… it would be a cuckoo in the nest, of course, but it would be his, nonetheless.’
My mouth falls open. I cannot believe what she’s just said. If I thought things couldn’t get any worse, I was spectacularly mistaken. I’ve always tried to be polite and deferential around Rosalind, but she’s just made it abundantly clear what she really thinks of me, and something snaps inside.
‘So, if I understand you correctly,’ I begin, ‘you and Edward gave your blessing to our marriage, despite the fact that I’m evidently far too common for James, because I’m going to turn into the goose that lays the golden eggs and bail you all out of the financial mire at some point in the future. However, until that happens, my role here is essentially that of a brood mare, producing babies to carry on the family line. Because I’ve failed so woefully in this apparently simple task, you’re proposing that James carries on seeing Becky with my blessing, and we enter into some kind of fertility contest to see who can fall pregnant first. Is that it?’
‘I think you’re being a little melodramatic, darling! I’m just considering the options, that’s all.’
She’s unbelievable. I’m so angry I can feel my fingers tingling.
‘There’s just one little flaw in your plan,’ I tell her, ‘beyond the fact that there is no way on earth that any sane person would sign up to it. The reason we haven’t conceived has nothing to do with me. I haven’t fallen pregnant because there are tractors on this farm with a higher sperm count than your son!’
I can see the shock in her face, and I’m glad that I’ve managed to deliver at least one retaliatory punch. Before she can say anything more, I hear the sound of a car crossing the yard. I glance at my watch. It’s not time for me to leave yet, but I need to get away from Rosalind.
‘That’ll be Dave, coming to take me to the station,’ I say, and I can hear the tremble of rage in my voice. ‘I think we’re done here. You’ll have to give my apologies to Pauline.’ I don’t wait for her response, slamming the door behind me as I leave.
* * *
‘Give me five minutes,’ I call to Dave, as I let myself into the cottage. ‘I’m all packed, I’ve just got to grab my stuff.’
‘No rush, Sophie,’ he replies. ‘I’m fairly early and your train isn’t for another hour and a half, so we have plenty of time.’
The lack of warmth in the kitchen reminds me what started this horrible chain of events. I never even got to tell James about the Aga in the end. I grab a piece of paper and scribble on it hurriedly.
James,
The Aga has gone out. Please fix it. You’ll have to microwave something from the freezer for your dinner.
I pause for a minute, the pencil hovering over the page. I’m seething with rage after everything that I’ve just been through. The red mist descends and I add, in a shaking hand.
By the way, I SAW you and Becky this afternoon. You utter BASTARD.
I turn on my heel, sprint upstairs, and collect my overnight bag from the bedroom, before grabbing my phone and purse from the hall table and throwing myself into the back of Dave’s battered taxi.
‘Let’s go,’ I tell him, and he starts to make his way gingerly down the farm track. He doesn’t know it very well and falls into a couple of the potholes that I avoid without thinking now, but I’m so focused on getting away from here that it doesn’t occur to me to warn him about them. As we near the turning to the stables, my heart goes into my mouth. James’ farm truck is on its way back, and there’s no option but for us to pull into the side and let him pass. As he draws alongside, he stops the truck and winds down the window. He’s smiling, as if nothing is wrong.
