Page 130 of Wife After Wife
“Sorry to squash you, girls. I really ought to do something about this old fellow,” he said, patting his spare tire.
“Oh, if you need diet advice, we know it all,” said Arabella. “You’ve probably been comfort eating, right?”
“Me and Arabella do that, like,allthe time,” said Milly. “And stress eating. You’ve got a better excuse than us though. But yeah, might be time to lose a few kilos. Try giving up carbs. Just go for protein and veggies.”
“Is cake carbs?”
The girls laughed. “No cake allowed. Or ice cream or biscuits,” said Arabella.
“Or Nutella,” said Milly.
“So whatcanI have for pudding?”
“An apple.”
“Well, I have to say, you two are no fun at all.”
“Your avatar can have as much cake as he wants,” said Arabella. “Let’s create an account for you, then you can play with us when you get home. We’re usually online in the evening. It might take your mind off food—like, stop you from eating.”
“That’s actually a legit good idea,” said Milly.
They created Harry’s avatar and showed him how to play. He scrambled his surname and called himself Eros03. The tall, good-looking redhead in jeans and a check shirt resembled Harry at twenty.
Arabella grinned at Milly. “He’s hot! I would.”
The girls made him promise to meet up online that night. Their avatars were called Thing001 and Thing002.
“It was lovely to see you having fun,” said Megan as he stood on the doorstep saying goodbye. “It’s been a while. Perhaps it’s time for Eliza and Eddie to come back.”
“You’re right, it is.”
He waved from the taxi as it set off for St. Katharine Docks. Harry had hated being by himself in the huge, empty Primrose Hill house. Too many ghosts. He’d gone back to the river. Being near the Thames again helped.
The grief wasn’t as raw now, but it would still blindside him at unexpected moments: a glimpse of someone who reminded him of her; a scent, a turn of phrase, a TV theme tune, a burst of music. He’d probably never watch another Bond movie in his life.
At least at work he could now hold the grief at bay. And he’d managed to reduce his daily painkillers from too many to count to single figures. He was still taking the sleeping pills, however—no way could he give those up yet. This past week he’d tried, but on the first night had woken several times, his sheets soaked in sweat, overwhelmed by a sense of dread.
Was he fit to look after his children again? Katie had said it would be no trouble to have them for a while longer. She was so saintly, hewouldn’t have been surprised to see an actual halo hovering over her head. When she’d collected Eliza and Eddie after the funeral, he wondered for a moment why he’d ever let her go.
But yes, hewasready. In fact he was suddenly overwhelmed by the need to see his children again. He’d ask Megan to get in touch with the nanny agency.
Later, he went online and set off as Eros03 to find Milly and Arabella. He couldn’t (the game was far more difficult without a youngster by his side), but instead found himself in a virtual tavern drinking virtual beer and chatting up a busty platinum blonde called Chloe0573. She had powerful thighs and a clever way with words, and they arranged to meet at the same time, same place, tomorrow.
After midnight, Harry forgot to take his sleeping pill, but nevertheless fell into a sleep that was deep and dreamless.
•••
“They’re all ready for their walk,” said Lisa, the new nanny.
“Look, it’s the Michelin Man!” said Harry, chucking Eddie under the chin. His little son, so well wrapped up he was practically rigid, gurgled in glee.
“Can I push him, Daddy?” asked Eliza as he maneuvered the buggy through the front door.
“When we get to the park. Thanks, Lisa. We’ll be back later this afternoon.”
The nanny agency had come up trumps. One of those friendly, fresh-faced Kiwis, that winning combination of laid-back and reliable. As long as she was allowed the occasional weekend off to explore the next on her list of European cities (taking advantage of a generous discount on Rose Air), Lisa was happy to stay home with the children anytime Harry wanted her to. But he wished she wouldn’t call his son “Iddie.”
“Oh, Harry,” she said, “can I have a quick word about Iddie’s vaccinations before you go? Mrs. Rose, Katie—I think she and the other lady... well, I get the impression they’re anti-vaxxers—”
