The French Gardener(108)
As they walked back to the house, Miranda tried to hide her anxiety by asking Blythe about herself and letting her rattle on, but she could not dispel the feeling that David was seeing someone else. She had become so involved in the garden and her children and her secret desire for Jean-Paul. But the more she thought about it, the more her suspicions were aroused.
They reached the hollow tree where Jean-Paul was playing with the children, pretending to be a crocodile. Gus was in his arms, wriggling about, trying to free himself, roaring with laughter. Miranda suddenly felt tearful. Jean-Paul was such a natural father. Her children adored him. He was full of inventiveness and enthusiasm. Why couldn’t she be married to him?
When Rafael saw his mother he clambered down from the tree house and ran up to her excitedly. “Mummy, J-P’s a crocodile, quick, up the tree. You mustn’t be eaten.” Blythe thought how much she’d adore to be eaten, and lingered on the grass hoping the handsome Frenchman would play with her as well. She rather fancied being swept up into his arms. Jean-Paul put Gus down and laughed as he scampered back up the ladder, gloating happily that he had outwitted the crocodile.
Miranda went inside to make the children tea, leaving Blythe with Jean-Paul. She was relieved to be alone. If David was having an affair, what then? Was their marriage over? Was it worth saving? Did she still love him? She wasn’t sure. Could Jean-Paul ever love her?
David had originally planned to be away on business for Blythe’s weekend, but his desire to spend more time with Miranda and the children overrode his wish to distance himself from his mistress. When he arrived the children were watching a video in their pajamas. Madeleine, Joe and Fred had been taken home. The day had been a great success. Gus had played alongside his friends without picking a fight. He was proud of his home and wanted to show it off. Hartington House had given him a sense of security and belonging and a source of continual entertainment. Since Jean-Paul had arrived he had grown in confidence. Mr. Marlow had praised him for good behavior. He seemed to be enjoying school. Storm’s friends were no longer afraid of coming home and she had little girls with whom to share her playhouse. Miranda read them bedtime stories and helped them with their homework. She delighted in these quiet moments together. Life at Hartington had become a joy. Yet, David wasn’t part of it.
Miranda watched him greet Blythe with the scrutiny of a scientist observing an organism beneath a microscope. She didn’t miss a thing.
XXIX
The battle to keep those naughty rabbits out of the garden. We lost to Mr. Badger, but oh, what a character he was!
David met Miranda warmly, sliding a hand around her waist and kissing her affectionately on her cheek. Miranda flushed with pleasure and surprise. Blythe’s reaction to seeing him was not dissimilar to the way she had reacted to Jean-Paul. There was nothing in her body language to indicate she was intimate with him. Besides, she was a natural flirt. Despite having been irritated when Miranda had mentioned she had invited Blythe for the weekend, David seemed pleased enough to see her. He was tired from the week in the office and the train journey from London. He looked strained around the eyes. Miranda poured him a glass of wine and, after saying hello to the children in the playroom, he disappeared upstairs to have a bath.
Blythe sat with Miranda in the kitchen, watching her prepare the roast chicken for dinner. She sipped her wine and nibbled on a carrot. “David’s looking very tired,” she said. “Is he always this exhausted on a Friday night?”
“Every weekend it’s the same. By the time he’s recovered he’s back on that train to start the whole process again. A banker’s life isn’t a life. It’s just money. Frankly, I’d rather have a husband.”
“I didn’t know things weren’t good between you.” Blythe looked genuinely concerned. Her sympathy was reassuring and Miranda hastily dismissed her suspicions as irrational. After basting the chicken she picked up her wineglass and joined Blythe at the table.
“I just don’t see much of him, that’s all. It’s hard to have a marriage when you spend so little time together.”
“Perhaps this move out to the country wasn’t such a good idea. I mean, for Gus and Storm it’s been fantastic, anyone can see that. Gus especially. He’s a changed boy. He was once so angry. Now he’s charming.”
Miranda’s spirits rose at the compliment. “He has more of a relationship with Jean-Paul than he does with his own father,” Miranda confided.
“Doesn’t that sadden David?”
“I don’t think he’s noticed.” Miranda laughed bitterly. “I have more of a marriage with Jean-Paul than I do with him. And no, I’m not sleeping with him. But I spend more time with him. We share more than David and I do.”