PERFECTION
James Gault and Lien Pham
Helen pointed to Ivana through the smoked-glass wall of the airport arrival lounge.
“There she is! Waiting in the queue at Passport Control!”
“Which one?” the children were asking. “Which one is she?”
“The one with the long blonde hair and the white anorak.”
“The one who looks like a perfect film star?” Charles demanded.
“I suppose so.”
“Helen,” Charles announced to his step-mother, “I think I’m in love.” Thirteen-year-olds can be alarmingly frank.
“Me too!” said Robert. He was one year younger than his brother and hated to miss out on anything, even if he didn’t exactly know what it was. Even Simon was grudgingly complimentary.
“Well at least you got this one right, Helen. An au-pair who’s so good-looking will be a big hit at our business dinner parties.
“She’s more than good looking, Dad! She’s gorgeous !” Charles informed them. And, just for emphasis, he whistled and added, “What a girl!”
“I’m a girl too.” Amanda said, in a louder voice than normal.
“You’re a little girl. She’s a big girl.”
Amanda sniffed.
“I’m not so little, Charles. I’m nearly seven!” She was six and two weeks.
“Let’s wave to her,” Helen said, trying to keep the peace. They began waving, the boys and Helen with enthusiasm, Simon a little half-heartedly. Amanda put her hands in her pocket. Ivana saw them, and, recognising them from the photos, waved back and smiled. Charles beamed.
When Ivana came out of the customs area struggling with her suitcase, Simon was uncharacteristically gallant. He found a trolley and took her case from her. This left her with two free hands, and Charles grabbed one of them before anyone else had a chance to blink. Of course, Robert immediately took the other one. Amanda, who seemed to have decided that a new enemy had come among them, pushed her hand defiantly into Helen’s and scowled.
“I’m nearly as tall as you,” Charles claimed, smiling at the new arrival. It wasn’t true, Czech girls are normally very tall and Ivana was no exception.
“It is true,” Ivana lied, “and handsome too.”
It was the first time Helen had seen her step-son blush. Robert, meanwhile, was feeling left out.
“I’m tall too, Ivana!”
“It is true! You are not as tall as your brother, but I think more handsome!”
It was Robert’s turn to beam. Ivana suddenly noticed Amanda, almost completely hidden behind her mother’s coat tails.
“You will be Amanda. You are pretty little girl.”
Amanda pushed her head out a bit. Not too much, just so she could see Ivana’s face properly. She couldn’t make up her mind whether to speak or not.
“I’m quite a big girl, actually!”
“Oh! How many years you have?”
“Nearly seven!”
“Really! I think you have nine.”
Amanda strayed into full view of the enemy and eyed her up carefully.
“I like your anorak,” she ventured.
“Thank you, but not as nice as your coat. Choose it you yourself?”
“Oh, Mummy helped me,” Amanda answered. “A little.”
“Let’s go to the car! Ivana’ll get cold standing here,” Simon suggested. He led the way, pushing the trolley, and the others followed, Ivana holding each of the boys by the hand and trying to engage a rather sullen Amanda in conversation.
Helen was relieved. Getting Ivana here had been a bit of a struggle. Simon had been difficult. He didn’t see the need for an au-pair. Although he was a dedicated career businessman, he didn’t quite see why his wife needed her own career. For Simon, gender roles were very black and white. After all, professionally speaking, she was only a doctor. Why couldn’t she see her patients in the morning while Amanda was at school, and rush back to her proper job as a mother and housewife before school closed? She may have been a top psychiatrist with an outstanding academic reputation in her field, but all that was her past. Just her passing the time waiting for the man in her life to turn up. She had had to wear him down to reluctant agreement with a long and arduous campaign. But it now seemed that both he and the boys were delighted with the change, and even Amanda showed signs of succumbing to Ivana’s charms.
“Well, all that went off rather well,’ she thought to herself.
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For the next two weeks thirteen–year-old Charles lovingly took care of Ivana’s introduction to the U.K. He negotiated with his father for the four-wheel drive to be at her disposal. He showed her the best road into Cambridge. He took her to a language school and helped her organise her English lessons. Ivana was a perfect substitute mother. She would take all the children to the swimming pool in Cambridge in the morning, then they would picnic in the sunshine on Parker’s Piece. They would watch the cricket matches, and Charles would explain the intricacies of the rules. Robert would chip in only to be corrected on some minor matter of interpretation. Amanda would chew silently and say nothing. Sometimes, if Helen didn’t have any lunchtime patients, she would nip out of the surgery and join them for lunch. The boys hardly noticed her, but Amanda would climb all over her and tell her in detail everything that Charles had said to Ivana and everything that Ivana had said to Charles.
“You know,’ Amanda rather sadly confided to Helen one day, “I think Ivana likes boys better than girls.”
“Don’t worry! The boys are off to Mary’s next week and then they’ll be at boarding school. You’ll have Ivana to yourself.”
Mary was Simon’s first wife and the boys’ mother. She lived comfortably, although a lot less comfortably than her ex-husband, being the victim of a vicious divorce settlement. She had had the bad luck to fall under the spell of one of Simon’s best and most seductive friends, and the even worse luck to get caught in full affair. As she was the guilty party, Simon was awarded the cake, the icing and the fancy decorations and poor Mary only got the crumbs. She really hated him for it, especially as she only got to see her two boys for three weeks every year. The boy friend soon disappeared, presumably finding her a lot less well-off than he had anticipated. So while Simon lived in luxurious comfort in their village family mansion, she survived alone in a modest bachelor apartment in London, carrying a razor-sharpened grudge against Simon and his seductive friend.
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The next week, Helen took the boys to Mary’s. It was a duty which always fell to her, as Mary couldn’t even bear the sight of her ex-husband.
“Hi, Mum,” Charles greeted his mother, “We’ve got a really great-looking au-pair. Haven’t we, Rob?”
“Yes,” Robert answered. “Have you got any new games?” Robert was still at an age where love dies as soon as the object of affection disappears from sight.
But Robert’s was a rhetorical question. Mary, not knowing what else to do with young male teenagers, always bought the latest computer games in time for their visits. The boys rushed off to try them and Mary and Helen settled down to a cup of tea.
“How is the scheming rat?” Mary asked.
Helen smiled, shrugged her shoulders and said nothing. She knew what was coming. Mary’s monologue was a well-worn record. Even with all her professional skills, she found it hard to fathom out her husband’s ex-partner. She had been the one who had cheated in the marriage, yet it seemed that she was able to project all the blame onto Simon. Even allowing for the fact that Simon had stitched her up in the divorce settlement, Mary had to be a very screwed-up woman. Helen supposed that the awful behaviour she projected onto Simon was a way of handling her own guilt.
“You must be mad getting a good looking girl for an au-pair. He won’t be able to keep his lecherous hands off her. When I think of what he did to me. He’ll still be going on the business trips, right?”
Helen nodded.
“Just a cover up for his affairs with married women. And the way he treated me. I suppose that nothing you do is any good either.”
Helen smiled weakly.
“God how he used to sap my confidence. No wonder I fell for that no good friend of his, the suave David. Treacherous bastard! He and Simon had planned the whole thing together.”
Helen grimaced.
“I can’t imagine why, but I assume you want to keep the bastard. So why in heaven’s name did you choose a pretty woman as an au-pair? You really are hare-brained, Helen.”
Helen only smiled quietly.
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Within two months, the household, without the boys, had settled into a comfortable rhythm. Helen was working happily in her practice, taking more and more patients and spending less and less time at home. Ivana was living up to expectations, ferrying Amanda back and forward to school, making dinner, looking after Simon’s midday meals when he wasn’t away on business. Helen was almost entirely satisfied with her choice. Ivana lived a quiet and studious life outside of working hours, no rowdy parties or troublesome boy friends. Helen’s only disappointment was that Ivana hadn’t yet managed to win over Amanda. Every night, Amanda waited impatiently for her mother to come home, and monopolised her while Ivana made dinner.
“I still think Ivana likes boys better than girls,” she whispered to her mother one night, at bedtime.
“Why is that, darling?”
“She spends a lot of time talking to Daddy. Much more than she does to me”
“Well, that’s because she wants to practice her English, and Daddy can talk about a lot more things than you can. Now, where did I put our bedtime book?”
The little girl started to laugh.
“It’s there, on the chair. Mummy, you really are hare-brained.”
Helen smiled quietly.
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Ivana too was pleased with her choice of family. The Agency had told her that a good-looking girl like her could have the pick of the best families in the United Kingdom, and she had made a very careful choice. She needed a husband, and she didn’t want to make the same mistake as the last time. Back in the Czech Republic, she had had lots of offers, but she had chosen badly. He had been good-looking, but poor and even worse, lazy. His life revolved around football and drinking ‘pivo’. Like most Czech men, he had expected his wife to work hard all day and run after him all night. She was well rid of him, and she had at least learned that a life of poverty and hard work wasn’t for her. English men were noted for the courteous way they treated their women. All her friends had told her this. So she would have an Englishman.
She had done her research. Cambridge was one of the most affluent parts of the United Kingdom, plenty of rich men to choose from there. Then there was the family. Well off, big house, good jobs. They had to know lots of well-heeled eligible men. And, as a last resort, there was the husband. A bit old, perhaps, but his photograph betrayed his character. She had seen those eyes and that smile before, many times. One of those men who thought young women couldn’t resist them, when in fact they couldn’t resist young women. And the wife! Once pretty, maybe even sexy, now no more than elegant. No contest for someone like her.She knew exactly what men wanted
In spite of her secret plans, Ivana made a special effort to play the role of a simple Czech girl very well. When Helen and Simon invited her for a meal in the local pub, ‘to get to meet some nice young men’, she accepted gracefully. They arrived at about eight thirty. It should have been eight o’clock, but when Ivana and Simon presented themselves at five to eight, Helen had been surprised.
“Oh, dear,” she said, “I forgot all about it.” Simon had been cross, as usual.
“Really Helen, It’s a bit much. We arranged it all last week. Why are you always so hare-brained?” Helen had smiled, weakly.
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Ivana was a great success at the pub. The entire male youth of the village was infatuated. The were young, healthy and for the most part good looking young men, doing honest worthwhile jobs and earning modest but comfortable salaries. But Ivana could see that they weren’t rich. She received countless invitations to dinner, to the cinema, to watch them play football or to take up squash, but she declined them all.
“I have a boy friend at home,” she lied. It wasn’t a complete lie. There was a whole list of suitors back in her little town in central Bohemia – Jan, Martin, Thomas, none of them matching up to her vision of the perfect man.
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And, in fact, Thomas phoned her the next week.
“I’ve got the scholarship to Australia” he told her.
“Congratulations!”
“Ivana, I want us to get married and go together.”
“And what will we live on in Australia?”
“There’s the scholarship, we can manage. It’ll be enough if we’re careful with money.”
“Thomas, I’ve already been married. I’ve tried being careful with money. That’s not what I would call the perfect marriage. Have a nice life in Australia.” Ivana hung up.
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The family were sitting at the table sometime in the middle of November when Simon suddenly spoke.
“Helen, you did remember not to make any appointments for Thursday and Friday?”
“What are you talking about, Simon?” Helen asked.
“Oh, for goodness sake, don’t you remember? Can’t you remember anything? Ivana’s going back home to see her mother for a couple of days, and I’ll be away on business. So you’ll have to fetch Amanda from school.”
“Oh, I completely forgot.”
“You really are the limit. Can’t you get anything right? And to think that when I married you I thought I’d found the perfect woman. My God, how wrong can you be?” Simon was shouting by now and poor Amanda’s bottom lip was already trembling. Ivana was devoting her whole attention to eating what was on the plate in front of her, not daring to look at anyone. Helen answered quietly.
“The receptionist can rearrange my schedule. You don’t have to fly off the handle.”
“Well no wonder, Helen! You’re so hare-brained.”
Helen could only smile.
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Ivana stayed in Britain over Christmas and New Year. Young Charles claimed the credit for her presence. He wrote to her from school inviting her to all the celebrations and convinced her that an English family Christmas was not to be missed. On Christmas Eve Ivana cooked a traditional Czech meal, with fish soup, carp and a host of special little sugary cakes. Even Amanda warmed a little to her for those cakes. The Christmas Day English turkey was less of a success. Helen got the timing wrong, and the food was ready just at the moment when the Queen’s broadcast began. It was one of those years when the usual five-minute royal chat was extended into a full-blown half-hour documentary, and as result the family found themselves sitting down to lukewarm soup, cold turkey and unpalatable vegetables. The fruit and brandy pudding was fine, but Helen had never had any success with custard.
“I don’t know why you just didn’t give us cream?” Simon sneered.
“The custard’s just fine,” the ever-gallant Charles announced.
“Just once, just once, I’d like to have my wife cook a perfect Christmas dinner.” Simon mumbled.
“Never mind, Helen,” Charles whispered, “We all love you, even though you’re a little hare-brained.”
“Thank you, darling,” Helen whispered back, smiling quietly.
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When she was there, Ivana was a perfect au-pair. No one could find any fault the way she dealt with Amanda, who maintained a suspicious friendship with her. She was never late taking or collecting the little girl from school, she kept the house tidy and prepared tasty evening meals. The only inconvenience was her visits home, when Helen had to rearrange her whole surgery schedule to fit in with Amanda’s school times. Simon always had to be away at the same time, so it made it really awkward. Ivana had to go and visit her mother again in February, and as her journey coincided with another of Simon’s business trips, it was arranged that Simon would take her to the airport and collect her when she returned. She went back again at Easter, to say goodbye to Thomas who was leaving for Australia. Simon was on a business trip at that time too, so once again Helen’s working schedule was disturbed. She never once complained.
It was about two weeks later that the envelope arrived on Helen’s desk at work. She opened it, turned it upside down and a small pile of photos helter-skeltered onto her desk. She picked them up on by one and inspected each one carefully. Had anyone been spying on her, they would have seen a satisfied if slightly wistful smile. Had she received good news or bad news? Was she pleased or disappointed? Even a careful observer wouldn’t have been able to tell. Perhaps she didn’t know herself.
When she got home from work Simon met her at the door. He had been having yet another day working from home.
“Did you get it?” he asked her.
She felt that awful nausea mounting into her throat. She hadn’t a clue what it was, and today of all days, she didn’t want to face one of Simon’s tantrums.
“I can’t believe you, Helen, you completely forgot about it, didn’t you? I need that shirt for my trip to Germany next week,” he thundered at her. “You’re so incredibly stupid!”
For once Helen’s stoic calm abandoned her. She fled from the room and took refuge in the bathroom. Had he really asked her to get a new shirt for him? Why did he so desperately need a new shirt anyway, his wardrobe was full of them? The photos had shaken her, but they weren’t the real problem. She had taken his bullying all those years, but it had been slowly eating her confidence away. Maybe for the first time, she felt she was beginning to understand Mary, and why she had fallen so easily into the arms of Simon’s seductive accomplice. But she wasn’t Mary. Everyone has their own way of handling their problems. And she had made her plans. Time to be strong. Amanda crept into the bathroom while she was washing her face. She said nothing, but held out a little crayon drawing to her mother.
“I did it for you, Mummy. To make you happy.”
Helen bent down and cuddled her.
“And Daddy helped me with it. Just a little, though.”
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She tackled Simon that very evening, in the bedroom. She let him take off his tie and his shirt, while she watched him with a curious look on her face. Simon was about to say something when Helen spoke.
“I know about your affair with Ivana,” she told him, calmly.
Simon didn’t even hesitate.
“Don’t be ridiculous Helen. You’ve been talking too much to that bitch Mary. I was always faithful to her, and I’ve always been faithful to you.”
“Well, of course, you would be. It was you who drew up your first marriage agreement. Poor Mary was the guilty one, and found herself with only a quarter of what had been her money in the first place. And you went one better with our marriage. If we break up, the guilty part gets nothing at all.”
Helen said all this with a serenity that Simon was finding irritating.
“But darling, I just wanted to have a perfect marriage, a perfect faithful marriage, after my first disappointment.”
“Simon, you’re a prefect hypocrite. Mary knew all about your affairs with married women, only she couldn’t prove it. And you never stopped, even after our wedding,” Helen whispered.
“Surely you don’t believe her? She’s just a bitter, twisted, ugly hag.”
“I used to love you, you know. I really didn’t believe Mary, at first. I could see she was a twisted woman. She did wrong and you punished her for it. But it was the little things that she said that got to me first of all. The way you never went out of your way for me, the way you never gave me credit for anything I did well, and the way you tore me apart for every little mistake. And, when I saw she was right about that, I got to thinking about the rest. The affairs, the business trips! Were they really a figment of a bitter woman’s imagination? It’s not nice, checking up on your husband. You feel like a dirty person yourself. I hated myself for doing it, and I hated it even more when I found out Mary hadn’t been lying about anything. You know, you really are a thoroughly rotten person, Simon. I hate you.” Helen’s voice was completely devoid of emotion.
“Come on darling, you know me,” Simon pleaded.
“Too bloody right, I know you! Which is more than you can say about me. I don’t suppose you even remember the paper I gave at the National Psychology Conference last year.”
“Not my field, sweetheart.”
“It was a study of the traumas of life among young au-pairs from the ex-communist countries living in the United Kingdom. I spoke to hundreds of them, and I know exactly what they want.”
“Oh, yes?”
“A British passport and a British husband. And they don’t much care whose husband. And quite frankly, Simon, there couldn’t be an easier target than you. You lecherous bastard! Why do you think I went out of my way to find one of the prettiest girls in Central Europe to be our au-pair? Because I knew, I absolutely knew, that you couldn’t resist a beautiful, long-legged, seductive, vixen.”
“It’s not true. I don’t know where you got such a crazy idea. You’re being hare-brained as usual. I’m not in love with Ivana”
“Maybe not. But you’ve slept with her. And I’m going to get a divorce. I’m going to get Amanda. I’m going to get the house. I’m going to get all your money. Mary is going to get her revenge and her children back. All you’re going to get is Ivana. I just hope, I just really hope, that you want her that much.”
“You can’t prove it.”
“Believe me I can. I have a detective’s report and photographs.”
Simon looked at her, trying to decide if she was bluffing. She didn’t look as if she was bluffing. He wanted to hit her, violently, maybe even kill her. Helen could see the anger in his cold eyes, his tightly clenched fists, the way he was leaning forward in her direction.
“Don’t you dare lay a hand on me! If you do, you won’t even get Ivana, you’ll get prison.”
Simon was furious, but defeated. Helen picked up his pyjamas from the bed and threw them at him.
“You can sleep in the spare bedroom. And tomorrow, just leave! And you’d better take your girlfriend with you.”
Simon swept out of the bedroom, slamming the door behind him.
Sitting alone in the spare bedroom, Simon realised his perfectly planned life had gone for ever.
He thought of the boys. It was true he had kind of abandoned them a little to school and to Helen. But he wasn’t a bad father. There was the occasional game of football or cricket on the back lawn, when he had time. Would he lose that? And Amanda, the way she would come and sit on his knees. The intense way she studied his face afterwardsIvana was meant to have been an adventure, sweet in bed, young and new. Lightning lovemaking in the afternoon before picking up Amanda from school had been very exciting, but the ‘business trips’ had revealed the real Ivana to him. She was a ruthless and ambitious girl . To be honest, the last trip hadn’t been his plan, she had been the one who pushed him into it. Ivana had a perfect body, she was the perfect au-pair, but what would he do with her on long wet English weekends ? She was an imperfect substitute for a perfect family in a perfect home with a wife he now realised was nearly perfect It was really hare-brained for him to start this affair ! He wasn’t going to live with Ivana. She could go back home.
Ivana had overheard the quarrel; her room was next to the master bedroom. The marriage had broken up, she had what she wanted, but she wasn’t satisfied. What she had heard Helen say only confirmed what she had already worked out for herself. Simon wasn’t the kind of man she would want to live with. Even his affluence didn’t make him any better than her first husband. In many ways he was worse. Simon was the opposite of what she really wanted. She had had the prefect man in her hands, a man who loved her, who was prepared to sacrifice and work for her. She looked at her mobile phone and she looked at her watch, and she wondered want time I was in Australia right now. What did it matter what time it was? She started to dial.
In the other bedroom, Helen too was deep in reflection. She had made a perfect choice, Ivana had been the perfect other woman, she herself had handled their clash to perfection, it had been a perfect plan. So why was she sobbing quietly to herself?
© The Lien Pham and Jim Gault June 2006
“There she is! Waiting in the queue at Passport Control!”
“Which one?” the children were asking. “Which one is she?”
“The one with the long blonde hair and the white anorak.”
“The one who looks like a perfect film star?” Charles demanded.
“I suppose so.”
“Helen,” Charles announced to his step-mother, “I think I’m in love.” Thirteen-year-olds can be alarmingly frank.
“Me too!” said Robert. He was one year younger than his brother and hated to miss out on anything, even if he didn’t exactly know what it was. Even Simon was grudgingly complimentary.
“Well at least you got this one right, Helen. An au-pair who’s so good-looking will be a big hit at our business dinner parties.
“She’s more than good looking, Dad! She’s gorgeous !” Charles informed them. And, just for emphasis, he whistled and added, “What a girl!”
“I’m a girl too.” Amanda said, in a louder voice than normal.
“You’re a little girl. She’s a big girl.”
Amanda sniffed.
“I’m not so little, Charles. I’m nearly seven!” She was six and two weeks.
“Let’s wave to her,” Helen said, trying to keep the peace. They began waving, the boys and Helen with enthusiasm, Simon a little half-heartedly. Amanda put her hands in her pocket. Ivana saw them, and, recognising them from the photos, waved back and smiled. Charles beamed.
When Ivana came out of the customs area struggling with her suitcase, Simon was uncharacteristically gallant. He found a trolley and took her case from her. This left her with two free hands, and Charles grabbed one of them before anyone else had a chance to blink. Of course, Robert immediately took the other one. Amanda, who seemed to have decided that a new enemy had come among them, pushed her hand defiantly into Helen’s and scowled.
“I’m nearly as tall as you,” Charles claimed, smiling at the new arrival. It wasn’t true, Czech girls are normally very tall and Ivana was no exception.
“It is true,” Ivana lied, “and handsome too.”
It was the first time Helen had seen her step-son blush. Robert, meanwhile, was feeling left out.
“I’m tall too, Ivana!”
“It is true! You are not as tall as your brother, but I think more handsome!”
It was Robert’s turn to beam. Ivana suddenly noticed Amanda, almost completely hidden behind her mother’s coat tails.
“You will be Amanda. You are pretty little girl.”
Amanda pushed her head out a bit. Not too much, just so she could see Ivana’s face properly. She couldn’t make up her mind whether to speak or not.
“I’m quite a big girl, actually!”
“Oh! How many years you have?”
“Nearly seven!”
“Really! I think you have nine.”
Amanda strayed into full view of the enemy and eyed her up carefully.
“I like your anorak,” she ventured.
“Thank you, but not as nice as your coat. Choose it you yourself?”
“Oh, Mummy helped me,” Amanda answered. “A little.”
“Let’s go to the car! Ivana’ll get cold standing here,” Simon suggested. He led the way, pushing the trolley, and the others followed, Ivana holding each of the boys by the hand and trying to engage a rather sullen Amanda in conversation.
Helen was relieved. Getting Ivana here had been a bit of a struggle. Simon had been difficult. He didn’t see the need for an au-pair. Although he was a dedicated career businessman, he didn’t quite see why his wife needed her own career. For Simon, gender roles were very black and white. After all, professionally speaking, she was only a doctor. Why couldn’t she see her patients in the morning while Amanda was at school, and rush back to her proper job as a mother and housewife before school closed? She may have been a top psychiatrist with an outstanding academic reputation in her field, but all that was her past. Just her passing the time waiting for the man in her life to turn up. She had had to wear him down to reluctant agreement with a long and arduous campaign. But it now seemed that both he and the boys were delighted with the change, and even Amanda showed signs of succumbing to Ivana’s charms.
“Well, all that went off rather well,’ she thought to herself.
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For the next two weeks thirteen–year-old Charles lovingly took care of Ivana’s introduction to the U.K. He negotiated with his father for the four-wheel drive to be at her disposal. He showed her the best road into Cambridge. He took her to a language school and helped her organise her English lessons. Ivana was a perfect substitute mother. She would take all the children to the swimming pool in Cambridge in the morning, then they would picnic in the sunshine on Parker’s Piece. They would watch the cricket matches, and Charles would explain the intricacies of the rules. Robert would chip in only to be corrected on some minor matter of interpretation. Amanda would chew silently and say nothing. Sometimes, if Helen didn’t have any lunchtime patients, she would nip out of the surgery and join them for lunch. The boys hardly noticed her, but Amanda would climb all over her and tell her in detail everything that Charles had said to Ivana and everything that Ivana had said to Charles.
“You know,’ Amanda rather sadly confided to Helen one day, “I think Ivana likes boys better than girls.”
“Don’t worry! The boys are off to Mary’s next week and then they’ll be at boarding school. You’ll have Ivana to yourself.”
Mary was Simon’s first wife and the boys’ mother. She lived comfortably, although a lot less comfortably than her ex-husband, being the victim of a vicious divorce settlement. She had had the bad luck to fall under the spell of one of Simon’s best and most seductive friends, and the even worse luck to get caught in full affair. As she was the guilty party, Simon was awarded the cake, the icing and the fancy decorations and poor Mary only got the crumbs. She really hated him for it, especially as she only got to see her two boys for three weeks every year. The boy friend soon disappeared, presumably finding her a lot less well-off than he had anticipated. So while Simon lived in luxurious comfort in their village family mansion, she survived alone in a modest bachelor apartment in London, carrying a razor-sharpened grudge against Simon and his seductive friend.
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The next week, Helen took the boys to Mary’s. It was a duty which always fell to her, as Mary couldn’t even bear the sight of her ex-husband.
“Hi, Mum,” Charles greeted his mother, “We’ve got a really great-looking au-pair. Haven’t we, Rob?”
“Yes,” Robert answered. “Have you got any new games?” Robert was still at an age where love dies as soon as the object of affection disappears from sight.
But Robert’s was a rhetorical question. Mary, not knowing what else to do with young male teenagers, always bought the latest computer games in time for their visits. The boys rushed off to try them and Mary and Helen settled down to a cup of tea.
“How is the scheming rat?” Mary asked.
Helen smiled, shrugged her shoulders and said nothing. She knew what was coming. Mary’s monologue was a well-worn record. Even with all her professional skills, she found it hard to fathom out her husband’s ex-partner. She had been the one who had cheated in the marriage, yet it seemed that she was able to project all the blame onto Simon. Even allowing for the fact that Simon had stitched her up in the divorce settlement, Mary had to be a very screwed-up woman. Helen supposed that the awful behaviour she projected onto Simon was a way of handling her own guilt.
“You must be mad getting a good looking girl for an au-pair. He won’t be able to keep his lecherous hands off her. When I think of what he did to me. He’ll still be going on the business trips, right?”
Helen nodded.
“Just a cover up for his affairs with married women. And the way he treated me. I suppose that nothing you do is any good either.”
Helen smiled weakly.
“God how he used to sap my confidence. No wonder I fell for that no good friend of his, the suave David. Treacherous bastard! He and Simon had planned the whole thing together.”
Helen grimaced.
“I can’t imagine why, but I assume you want to keep the bastard. So why in heaven’s name did you choose a pretty woman as an au-pair? You really are hare-brained, Helen.”
Helen only smiled quietly.
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Within two months, the household, without the boys, had settled into a comfortable rhythm. Helen was working happily in her practice, taking more and more patients and spending less and less time at home. Ivana was living up to expectations, ferrying Amanda back and forward to school, making dinner, looking after Simon’s midday meals when he wasn’t away on business. Helen was almost entirely satisfied with her choice. Ivana lived a quiet and studious life outside of working hours, no rowdy parties or troublesome boy friends. Helen’s only disappointment was that Ivana hadn’t yet managed to win over Amanda. Every night, Amanda waited impatiently for her mother to come home, and monopolised her while Ivana made dinner.
“I still think Ivana likes boys better than girls,” she whispered to her mother one night, at bedtime.
“Why is that, darling?”
“She spends a lot of time talking to Daddy. Much more than she does to me”
“Well, that’s because she wants to practice her English, and Daddy can talk about a lot more things than you can. Now, where did I put our bedtime book?”
The little girl started to laugh.
“It’s there, on the chair. Mummy, you really are hare-brained.”
Helen smiled quietly.
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Ivana too was pleased with her choice of family. The Agency had told her that a good-looking girl like her could have the pick of the best families in the United Kingdom, and she had made a very careful choice. She needed a husband, and she didn’t want to make the same mistake as the last time. Back in the Czech Republic, she had had lots of offers, but she had chosen badly. He had been good-looking, but poor and even worse, lazy. His life revolved around football and drinking ‘pivo’. Like most Czech men, he had expected his wife to work hard all day and run after him all night. She was well rid of him, and she had at least learned that a life of poverty and hard work wasn’t for her. English men were noted for the courteous way they treated their women. All her friends had told her this. So she would have an Englishman.
She had done her research. Cambridge was one of the most affluent parts of the United Kingdom, plenty of rich men to choose from there. Then there was the family. Well off, big house, good jobs. They had to know lots of well-heeled eligible men. And, as a last resort, there was the husband. A bit old, perhaps, but his photograph betrayed his character. She had seen those eyes and that smile before, many times. One of those men who thought young women couldn’t resist them, when in fact they couldn’t resist young women. And the wife! Once pretty, maybe even sexy, now no more than elegant. No contest for someone like her.She knew exactly what men wanted
In spite of her secret plans, Ivana made a special effort to play the role of a simple Czech girl very well. When Helen and Simon invited her for a meal in the local pub, ‘to get to meet some nice young men’, she accepted gracefully. They arrived at about eight thirty. It should have been eight o’clock, but when Ivana and Simon presented themselves at five to eight, Helen had been surprised.
“Oh, dear,” she said, “I forgot all about it.” Simon had been cross, as usual.
“Really Helen, It’s a bit much. We arranged it all last week. Why are you always so hare-brained?” Helen had smiled, weakly.
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Ivana was a great success at the pub. The entire male youth of the village was infatuated. The were young, healthy and for the most part good looking young men, doing honest worthwhile jobs and earning modest but comfortable salaries. But Ivana could see that they weren’t rich. She received countless invitations to dinner, to the cinema, to watch them play football or to take up squash, but she declined them all.
“I have a boy friend at home,” she lied. It wasn’t a complete lie. There was a whole list of suitors back in her little town in central Bohemia – Jan, Martin, Thomas, none of them matching up to her vision of the perfect man.
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And, in fact, Thomas phoned her the next week.
“I’ve got the scholarship to Australia” he told her.
“Congratulations!”
“Ivana, I want us to get married and go together.”
“And what will we live on in Australia?”
“There’s the scholarship, we can manage. It’ll be enough if we’re careful with money.”
“Thomas, I’ve already been married. I’ve tried being careful with money. That’s not what I would call the perfect marriage. Have a nice life in Australia.” Ivana hung up.
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The family were sitting at the table sometime in the middle of November when Simon suddenly spoke.
“Helen, you did remember not to make any appointments for Thursday and Friday?”
“What are you talking about, Simon?” Helen asked.
“Oh, for goodness sake, don’t you remember? Can’t you remember anything? Ivana’s going back home to see her mother for a couple of days, and I’ll be away on business. So you’ll have to fetch Amanda from school.”
“Oh, I completely forgot.”
“You really are the limit. Can’t you get anything right? And to think that when I married you I thought I’d found the perfect woman. My God, how wrong can you be?” Simon was shouting by now and poor Amanda’s bottom lip was already trembling. Ivana was devoting her whole attention to eating what was on the plate in front of her, not daring to look at anyone. Helen answered quietly.
“The receptionist can rearrange my schedule. You don’t have to fly off the handle.”
“Well no wonder, Helen! You’re so hare-brained.”
Helen could only smile.
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Ivana stayed in Britain over Christmas and New Year. Young Charles claimed the credit for her presence. He wrote to her from school inviting her to all the celebrations and convinced her that an English family Christmas was not to be missed. On Christmas Eve Ivana cooked a traditional Czech meal, with fish soup, carp and a host of special little sugary cakes. Even Amanda warmed a little to her for those cakes. The Christmas Day English turkey was less of a success. Helen got the timing wrong, and the food was ready just at the moment when the Queen’s broadcast began. It was one of those years when the usual five-minute royal chat was extended into a full-blown half-hour documentary, and as result the family found themselves sitting down to lukewarm soup, cold turkey and unpalatable vegetables. The fruit and brandy pudding was fine, but Helen had never had any success with custard.
“I don’t know why you just didn’t give us cream?” Simon sneered.
“The custard’s just fine,” the ever-gallant Charles announced.
“Just once, just once, I’d like to have my wife cook a perfect Christmas dinner.” Simon mumbled.
“Never mind, Helen,” Charles whispered, “We all love you, even though you’re a little hare-brained.”
“Thank you, darling,” Helen whispered back, smiling quietly.
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When she was there, Ivana was a perfect au-pair. No one could find any fault the way she dealt with Amanda, who maintained a suspicious friendship with her. She was never late taking or collecting the little girl from school, she kept the house tidy and prepared tasty evening meals. The only inconvenience was her visits home, when Helen had to rearrange her whole surgery schedule to fit in with Amanda’s school times. Simon always had to be away at the same time, so it made it really awkward. Ivana had to go and visit her mother again in February, and as her journey coincided with another of Simon’s business trips, it was arranged that Simon would take her to the airport and collect her when she returned. She went back again at Easter, to say goodbye to Thomas who was leaving for Australia. Simon was on a business trip at that time too, so once again Helen’s working schedule was disturbed. She never once complained.
It was about two weeks later that the envelope arrived on Helen’s desk at work. She opened it, turned it upside down and a small pile of photos helter-skeltered onto her desk. She picked them up on by one and inspected each one carefully. Had anyone been spying on her, they would have seen a satisfied if slightly wistful smile. Had she received good news or bad news? Was she pleased or disappointed? Even a careful observer wouldn’t have been able to tell. Perhaps she didn’t know herself.
When she got home from work Simon met her at the door. He had been having yet another day working from home.
“Did you get it?” he asked her.
She felt that awful nausea mounting into her throat. She hadn’t a clue what it was, and today of all days, she didn’t want to face one of Simon’s tantrums.
“I can’t believe you, Helen, you completely forgot about it, didn’t you? I need that shirt for my trip to Germany next week,” he thundered at her. “You’re so incredibly stupid!”
For once Helen’s stoic calm abandoned her. She fled from the room and took refuge in the bathroom. Had he really asked her to get a new shirt for him? Why did he so desperately need a new shirt anyway, his wardrobe was full of them? The photos had shaken her, but they weren’t the real problem. She had taken his bullying all those years, but it had been slowly eating her confidence away. Maybe for the first time, she felt she was beginning to understand Mary, and why she had fallen so easily into the arms of Simon’s seductive accomplice. But she wasn’t Mary. Everyone has their own way of handling their problems. And she had made her plans. Time to be strong. Amanda crept into the bathroom while she was washing her face. She said nothing, but held out a little crayon drawing to her mother.
“I did it for you, Mummy. To make you happy.”
Helen bent down and cuddled her.
“And Daddy helped me with it. Just a little, though.”
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She tackled Simon that very evening, in the bedroom. She let him take off his tie and his shirt, while she watched him with a curious look on her face. Simon was about to say something when Helen spoke.
“I know about your affair with Ivana,” she told him, calmly.
Simon didn’t even hesitate.
“Don’t be ridiculous Helen. You’ve been talking too much to that bitch Mary. I was always faithful to her, and I’ve always been faithful to you.”
“Well, of course, you would be. It was you who drew up your first marriage agreement. Poor Mary was the guilty one, and found herself with only a quarter of what had been her money in the first place. And you went one better with our marriage. If we break up, the guilty part gets nothing at all.”
Helen said all this with a serenity that Simon was finding irritating.
“But darling, I just wanted to have a perfect marriage, a perfect faithful marriage, after my first disappointment.”
“Simon, you’re a prefect hypocrite. Mary knew all about your affairs with married women, only she couldn’t prove it. And you never stopped, even after our wedding,” Helen whispered.
“Surely you don’t believe her? She’s just a bitter, twisted, ugly hag.”
“I used to love you, you know. I really didn’t believe Mary, at first. I could see she was a twisted woman. She did wrong and you punished her for it. But it was the little things that she said that got to me first of all. The way you never went out of your way for me, the way you never gave me credit for anything I did well, and the way you tore me apart for every little mistake. And, when I saw she was right about that, I got to thinking about the rest. The affairs, the business trips! Were they really a figment of a bitter woman’s imagination? It’s not nice, checking up on your husband. You feel like a dirty person yourself. I hated myself for doing it, and I hated it even more when I found out Mary hadn’t been lying about anything. You know, you really are a thoroughly rotten person, Simon. I hate you.” Helen’s voice was completely devoid of emotion.
“Come on darling, you know me,” Simon pleaded.
“Too bloody right, I know you! Which is more than you can say about me. I don’t suppose you even remember the paper I gave at the National Psychology Conference last year.”
“Not my field, sweetheart.”
“It was a study of the traumas of life among young au-pairs from the ex-communist countries living in the United Kingdom. I spoke to hundreds of them, and I know exactly what they want.”
“Oh, yes?”
“A British passport and a British husband. And they don’t much care whose husband. And quite frankly, Simon, there couldn’t be an easier target than you. You lecherous bastard! Why do you think I went out of my way to find one of the prettiest girls in Central Europe to be our au-pair? Because I knew, I absolutely knew, that you couldn’t resist a beautiful, long-legged, seductive, vixen.”
“It’s not true. I don’t know where you got such a crazy idea. You’re being hare-brained as usual. I’m not in love with Ivana”
“Maybe not. But you’ve slept with her. And I’m going to get a divorce. I’m going to get Amanda. I’m going to get the house. I’m going to get all your money. Mary is going to get her revenge and her children back. All you’re going to get is Ivana. I just hope, I just really hope, that you want her that much.”
“You can’t prove it.”
“Believe me I can. I have a detective’s report and photographs.”
Simon looked at her, trying to decide if she was bluffing. She didn’t look as if she was bluffing. He wanted to hit her, violently, maybe even kill her. Helen could see the anger in his cold eyes, his tightly clenched fists, the way he was leaning forward in her direction.
“Don’t you dare lay a hand on me! If you do, you won’t even get Ivana, you’ll get prison.”
Simon was furious, but defeated. Helen picked up his pyjamas from the bed and threw them at him.
“You can sleep in the spare bedroom. And tomorrow, just leave! And you’d better take your girlfriend with you.”
Simon swept out of the bedroom, slamming the door behind him.
Sitting alone in the spare bedroom, Simon realised his perfectly planned life had gone for ever.
He thought of the boys. It was true he had kind of abandoned them a little to school and to Helen. But he wasn’t a bad father. There was the occasional game of football or cricket on the back lawn, when he had time. Would he lose that? And Amanda, the way she would come and sit on his knees. The intense way she studied his face afterwardsIvana was meant to have been an adventure, sweet in bed, young and new. Lightning lovemaking in the afternoon before picking up Amanda from school had been very exciting, but the ‘business trips’ had revealed the real Ivana to him. She was a ruthless and ambitious girl . To be honest, the last trip hadn’t been his plan, she had been the one who pushed him into it. Ivana had a perfect body, she was the perfect au-pair, but what would he do with her on long wet English weekends ? She was an imperfect substitute for a perfect family in a perfect home with a wife he now realised was nearly perfect It was really hare-brained for him to start this affair ! He wasn’t going to live with Ivana. She could go back home.
Ivana had overheard the quarrel; her room was next to the master bedroom. The marriage had broken up, she had what she wanted, but she wasn’t satisfied. What she had heard Helen say only confirmed what she had already worked out for herself. Simon wasn’t the kind of man she would want to live with. Even his affluence didn’t make him any better than her first husband. In many ways he was worse. Simon was the opposite of what she really wanted. She had had the prefect man in her hands, a man who loved her, who was prepared to sacrifice and work for her. She looked at her mobile phone and she looked at her watch, and she wondered want time I was in Australia right now. What did it matter what time it was? She started to dial.
In the other bedroom, Helen too was deep in reflection. She had made a perfect choice, Ivana had been the perfect other woman, she herself had handled their clash to perfection, it had been a perfect plan. So why was she sobbing quietly to herself?
© The Lien Pham and Jim Gault June 2006