THE PRODIGAL HOUSEKEEPER (Chapter 2)

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Chapter 2

“I don’t understand. We fell in love, engaged and married, so we’re man and wife. It's all been a dream, like the working out of a wonderful plan.” said Oswald.

“Yes, darling, perfectly true. You put things so well. It will probably take a time for you to understand, but I'm doing my best to make things clear and simple. I didn’t fall in love with you… you fell in love with me. I fell in love with the house.”

“This is absolutely unbelievable. I can’t believe what I'm hearing.”

“Quite the usual reaction. Let me say it once again, very slowly. I married you so this house would become mine.”

“Are you really asking for some sort of separation on our wedding night?" The normally softly spoken Oswald raised his voice and added, "This cannot be true!”

“Oh yes, it's true. Divorce actually. It happens all the time. There’s something about it in the newspapers almost every day. Usually people stay married for a few years, have a miserable time with loads of horrible arguments and then divorce,” Caroline explained with a little fluttering of her eyelashes. “It lasts absolutely ages, and is an awfully long time to wait. By doing it this way, things are kept nice and simple for both of us.”

“What makes you think you can marry me for a few hours and steal my house?”

“Because I’ve a solicitor in London, Mr. Chambers, of Chambers, Crawley and Boyle, who specializes in divorce law. You can have a chat with him if you like. He’ll explain all the ins and outs, or what he likes to call the ‘pros and cons.’ This way I get the house and you keep everything else—all your businesses and investments, properties, cars, pensions, absolutely everything.”

“But why, might I ask, didn't you mention this before?” Oswald stuttered.

“You might ask, but if you have a teeny, teeny think about the question, you'll not need to ask it again.”

“Is this one of your jokes?”

“No, it's definitely not a joke. I'm your housekeeper. I keep your house.”

“Do you expect me to get angry and scream and shout?” asked Oswald, lifting both his hands.

“There’s no point really. I suggest you go to bed, have a good sleep, and in the morning, you can check out the position with your solicitor.”

“Do you really think I'll be able to sleep a wink tonight? What about the garden party? I wanted to have a marquee with a band and hundreds of guests—all our friends and family. I'll be a laughingstock.”

“Oswald, you don’t have to tell anyone. Far better not to, otherwise you’ll have the press here, and with such a beautiful house, it would probably be on television. My suggestion is neither of us says a dickey bird to anyone apart from our solicitors. It can be our little secret.”

“Some men would kill their wife for doing such a thing.”

“Oh yes, you will probably have horrid thoughts, but the sooner they go away, the better. You can waste weeks and weeks plotting out different ways of killing me. Your life would be a misery in prison. Grey high walls and porridge for breakfast wouldn’t suit you. Much better to grasp the nettle, take it all in your stride and don’t whisper a word to anyone.”

“Caroline, you're not normal.”

“Normal? People say normal is just a setting on washing machines.”

“And what do you say normal means?”

“To be unlike anyone else on earth is normal.” replied Caroline without a smile. Though her words held no malice, her voice contained an intensity and power Oswald had never witnessed. She took a sip of chocolate and reverted to her usual persona as if nothing untoward had occurred.

“Let me put it more bluntly. You’re completely mad.”

“No, I'm not mad, and with time you'll think yourself lucky. Be careful in the future and get a prenuptial agreement. That’s the way to go about marriage these days. You could have met a gold digger who would have taken at least half of everything you have, plus the horrific legal expenses. I suggest we don’t talk about it anymore at the moment. You're beginning to see what's happened and need time for it to sink in. I'll go to London for a few days and you can chat with your lawyer. You'll be amazed how quickly Chambers can do conveyancing, next week I'll move in properly."

“Yes, I'll be really amazed!" he said as his anger mounted. "And you'll be amazed when I become violent!"

“I 'm sure you must be cross and angry, but to hit your wife on your wedding night would be a sad thing to do. I had to tell you like this, face to face, the solicitor said I mustn’t put anything in writing or use the phone or emails. The best thing is not to talk any more now. Otherwise, we'll be up all night.”

“I still can't believe you're doing this. You must have been scheming and plotting from the day we met.”

“Actually, from a bit before we met,” she said calmly. “It started the day I saw the house. I fell in love with it instantly. I didn’t have any interest in you. You just happened to be the owner and I wanted it. If you want something in this world, you take it... that’s the trouble with wishes and desires.”

“Astonishing,” said Oswald, pronouncing every syllable slowly. “You are absolutely as-ton-ish-ing. You don’t have a moral bone in your body. I think you have a sickness,” he added in a louder voice.

“That’s actually the best way. I’ve a mania for houses. Each time I get one, it acts like a sauce for wanting another. If I had a whole street of houses it still wouldn’t be enough. I would want to have the whole town. Do you remember the woman in the Philippines with a massive shoe collection? She had rooms and rooms full of them.”

“Mrs. Marcos?” suggested Oswald.

“Yes, Mrs. Marcos. That’s just what I'm like with houses. It’s something in my genes, probably on my father’s side. That’s what scientists say. I'm not bothered about clothes, cars, and holidays, and money and things. Just houses. Oh, and I do have a passion for scuba diving.”

“Genes are always a good explanation. It pushes the blame away neatly. Stealing is stealing, whatever you steal.”

“Oswald really! Now I don’t understand you! For the last six months you've been telling me how much you love me. How you'll do anything for me. You've been phoning up in the middle of the night, writing love letters, writing poems, sending chocolates and flowers. Suddenly you start talking about hitting me and calling me a thief. What happened to all the unconditional love?”

“Suddenly I learn you tricked me so you could take my house. How did you think I would react?”

“Exactly the way you have. I thought the best thing was simply to tell you and go back to London, but here we are still talking. It wasn't easy for me. We've had some wonderful times. I've really grown fond of you and enjoyed your company tremendously over these months. You made me feel like a real princess. I've never met a better, gentler or more good-spirited man. We can still be friends. This isn’t something we need to fall out over. You can always come and visit... stay in the guest room. Time will pass and we can have a good laugh about it. You've such a wonderful sense of humour.”

“You’re naive. Such things like this just don't happen. What you're doing is dishonest, and despicable. You live in another world, a world without morals! You're mad or sick. You really need to see some kind of a doctor or a psychiatrist urgently. The world isn't as you see it.”

“I went to see a psychologist once. She told me there are loads of people like me who want lots of houses. She said it was usual and I was in perfect health.”

“And you paid her for saying exactly what you wanted to hear,” said Oswald.

“Yes, of course, that's how she makes her living. Certainly several people have told me I'm naïve, but I'm never sure what it means. You're just trying to find the bad side of me. If you look for positives, you'll find them. You know I can be insecure because I spent most of my life being poor. Besides, it’s not really fair to blame someone because they turn out differently from how you expected or hoped. A little minx could have left you with a couple of children and loads of patrimony to pay.”

“I think you mean alimony,” he suggested, trying to speak calmly and remain in control of himself.

“Typical. You're such a poly moth. It drags on and on for years and years. All I want is one house and no fuss with lawyers and courts and the press. It couldn’t be simpler. It leaves you completely free to carry on with your life. You can easily go out and buy another house, you've more got more money than you can spend. It’s nothing to make a fuss over. Not too bad in the great scheme of things. Just think of it as though you've had a little accident, a bout of flu, or an unexpected tax bill or something.”

“I think you're right. We're talking and getting absolutely nowhere,” Oswald said after some deep breaths and calming down a little. “I've been married for less than a day, and I can already say that my wife doesn't understand me. That must be a record. I've been straight with you all the time, I don’t see I did anything wrong.”

“Perhaps you have been a little naïve?” she suggested and after a pause, added with a smile, “I really don’t know what it means.”

“In my case, it almost certainly means stupid. I do need time to think and discuss it with my solicitor. Look, I'll call Peter now and he can drive you back to London tonight. Unless, of course, you'd like to tell me the whole evening has been one enormous joke?”

“No. It definitely hasn’t. Don’t forget we’ve spent a lot of time together and I know an awful lot about you. It’s almost like being man and wife. I must say you’re being decent and gentlemanly. Sometimes it brings out a dark and angry side in people. You've behaved philosophically, almost as if you were prepared for some bad news coming.”

Caroline opened her handbag before saying with a smile, “Look, I've brought along a bottle of arnica tablets. They’re good for mental shock. You should take three or four tablets now, and three more at two-hour intervals. Sure to calm you down and will help you sleep.”

“Oh, I see. You give me a little bottle of arnica tablets, and I give you a large house! Amazing! Let me get this straight, You've done the same thing to other men?”

“Yes, a few times. It’s my job,” she said without any sign of remorse.

“‘A few times... it’s my job!’ You're reprehensible! And you sit there cool as a cucumber telling me this. I suppose there’s no way you could ever be found out?”

“Not really. My solicitor is very professional—a real bulldog. He knows every trick in the book. Of course, he’s the basest of swindlers, and I have to pay him a huge percentage, but it’s in his interests to be discreet. It’s mostly the new divorce laws and women’s rights that have made things so much easier for us. Thirty years ago it was seedy hotels, blackmail and private detectives jumping out from behind curtains with flash cameras, but those times have mostly gone."

"I can just about remember those times from Sunday newspapers."

"Unfortunately, there's lots of amateurs about these days who give the business a bad name, and mail order girls coming from Eastern Europe. You really must watch out. They’re swarming all over the Internet. They say they’re looking for real love, romance and men with a sense of humour, but often it’s not true. Anyway, the most important thing seems to be not to put anything in writing until a proper agreement is drawn up between us. I just sign a letter saying I'll take the house and nothing more. Then the divorce goes through QQA, quickly, quietly and amicably.”

“Don’t some of the men actually hit you or take some sort of revenge?” asked Oswald.

“It's a real danger, an occupational hazard. Touch wood, I've always been fortunate and never experienced any domestic violence. I've heard some dreadful stories, and not just in novels. The good thing is men don’t want to tell anyone about what the women have done. Too much pride and fear of losing face. Soon it becomes something they want to forget. Mentioning it on the wedding night as we have done is by far the best way.”

“What sort of percentage does your Mr. Chambers take, if I may ask?”

“You shouldn’t really ask such questions! It's a professional trade secret between him and me, but around 15 percent of the house value. I have to pay it as fees, though he likes most in cash. Expensive, but I couldn’t do without him. It’s far too much really, considering he’s got two or three other girls working. With some he even takes a finder’s fee through his housekeeper’s agency. I like to pick my own clients. It keeps things more personal.”

“Do you manage to keep the houses, or have to sell them?” Oswald asked.

“I'm definitely going to keep this one. I absolutely adore it. Hopefully, it will be my last job. I should be able to manage financially, but will still need a couple of staff because the garden is so big. I could always start a little donkey sanctuary business… quite a good money spinner. The old retainers will go of course and I can have a fresh start. If I keep my expenses down, I should be able to manage. I do hope you'll come and visit to see all the little changes I make. I want to put a large heated aquarium here in the conservatory. There'll be plenty of space when your dusty old books have gone. I love tropical fish and water. When I was a teenager, I did a lot of long distance swimming. That’s how I got my big shoulders.”

Caroline reached over and placed one of her hands on her husband's knee. "Who knows, darling, one day we might really fall in love and get married again. None of this pretending stuff. I've grown to like you very, very much. Wouldn’t that be a dream come true?.

“Who knows? Life is certainly full of surprises! I might actually enjoy coming to visit you from time to time to see how you are settling in. Look, it's getting late and time for you to go. Peter has been waiting in the next room and is ready to drive you to London. I asked him to make a video of our entire conversation. Look carefully and you can see the teeny, teeny cameras in the wall. There's a microphone hidden under the table too.”

Caroline shuddered and gave Oswald a piercing look. The room went deathly quiet and after a considerable pause, Oswald said, “Are you there, Peter? Can you come in now?”

*

A few minutes later, Peter walked in from the adjoining room with two video cassettes.

“Ah, there you are. Did you manage everything?"

“Yes, sir, everything went well. I recorded the whole of the conversation. It’s all here on the cassettes. Perhaps it would be best to put them in the safe in case we get any more thieves dropping in,” he said with the authority of a prison officer.

“Right away and tomorrow I’ll make some copies—one for my solicitor and one for Charles Saunders,” he said and turned to Caroline.

“You surely remember Charles?" As he said this Caroline's careless flick of hair off her forehead was suddenly interrupted as she froze in shock and made no reply. "You played the same trick on him a few years ago in a little village just outside Oxford. Afterwards, he had you followed by a private detective, and rang me as soon as you started visiting here. We met up and he explained everything that had happened to him. What a charming man.”

“Oswald, really! I’m sure you must have sat talking about me for hours and hours.”

“No, we didn’t actually.”

“Well, not talking about me makes it even worse,” she said with a sob.

“We chatted about the best way to trap you and make sure you never do it again. Then I had a talk with my solicitor, otherwise, I haven’t mentioned it to anyone. I must say it’s all been great fun. I have enjoyed myself enormously—one of the best laughs I’ve had for years. It’s been a real eye opener for me. I’ve never met anyone like you, only read about them in books like Vanity Fair. Did you model yourself on Becky Sharp?”

“I’ve read the book. Maybe I do have some of Becky’s traits. She’s something of a heroine for me, neither of us knew our fathers.”

There was another silence before Oswald produced a photo album. Speaking in a friendly voice, he said, “Look at these, Some lovely photographs of you on your wedding day with Charles Saunders. I’m sure they will bring back emotive memories. You had a proper church wedding and a big reception. Here’s a nice one of you, all in white, with yellow flowers in your hair and plenty of bridesmaids. You look beautiful and only a little younger. Mr. and Mrs. Saunders standing by a five-tier wedding cake—quite the happy couple. Here’s one of the house and garden, it all looks idyllic.”