The Lost Wife. Maggie Cox

      ‘How are you coping with the loss of your dad?’

      ‘I’m a busy man, with a worldwide property business to run … I don’t have time to dwell on anything other than my work and my daughter.’

      ‘You mean you don’t have time to mourn your father? That can’t be good.’

      ‘Sometimes we all have to be pragmatic.’ His spine stiffening, Jake put the ceramic mug down on a nearby side-table then flattened his palms over his knees. Ailsa had always wanted to get to the heart of things and it seemed that nothing had changed there. Except that he didn’t feel like spilling his guts to her about his feelings any more … been there, done that. He had the bruises on his heart to prove it.

      ‘I remember that you and he had your differences, and I just thought that his passing might be an opportunity for you to reflect on the good things about your relationship, that’s all.’

      ‘Like I said … I’ve been too busy. He’s gone, and it’s sad, but one of the things he taught me himself was to rise above my emotions and simply get on with whatever is in front of me. At the end of the day that’s helped me cope with the “slings and arrows” of life far more than wallowing in my pain. If you don’t agree with such a strategy then I’m sorry, but that’s how it is.’

      He sensed his temper and his unreasonableness rising. Privately he had nothing but contempt for such a tack. Leaving his father’s death and his regret that they hadn’t found a way to communicate more healthily aside, he reminded himself that he wasn’t the only one in this one-time marriage who had been to the depths of hell and back. In the four years since their divorce Ailsa had grown noticeably thinner, and there were faint new lines around her sweetly shaped mouth. Perhaps she wasn’t getting on with her life that well? He yearned to know how she was really coping. Saskia had told him that her mother worked long hours at her arts and crafts business, even at the weekends. There was no need for her to work at all. The divorce settlement he’d made for her was substantial, and that was the way he wanted it.

      Jake frowned. ‘Why are you working so hard?’ he demanded, before he’d realised he intended to ask.

      ‘What?’

      ‘Saskia told me that you work day and night at this arts and crafts thing.’

      ‘Arts and crafts thing?’ She was immediately offended. ‘I run a thriving local business that keeps me busy when I’m not doing the school run or tending to Saskia, and I love it. What did you expect me to do when we broke up, Jake? Sit around twiddling my thumbs? Or perhaps you expected me to spend my divorce settlement on a chic new wardrobe every season? Or the latest sports car? Or get interior designers in with pointless regularity to remodel the house?’

      Wearily he rubbed his hand round his jaw. At the same time her words made him sit up straight. When he’d met her and married her he had never envisaged Ailsa as a businesswoman in the making. ‘It’s good to hear that your business is going well. And as regards the settlement, it’s entirely up to you what you do with the money. As long as you take proper care of Saskia when she’s with you—that’s all I care about. I’ve noticed that you look tired, as well as the fact you’ve clearly lost weight … that’s why I asked. I don’t want you wearing yourself out when you don’t have to.’

      Her expression pained, Ailsa tightened her hands round her mug of tea. ‘I’m not wearing myself out. I look tired because sometimes I don’t sleep very well, that’s all. It’s a bit of a legacy from the accident, I’m afraid. But it’s okay … I try and catch up with some rest whenever I can—even if it’s during the day.’

      If a heavyweight boxer had slammed his fist into his gut right then Jake couldn’t have been more winded. It took him a few moments to get the words teeming in his brain to travel to his mouth. ‘I told you years ago that you should get some help from the doctor to help you sleep better. Why haven’t you?’

      As she shook her head, her long chestnut hair glanced against the sides of her face. ‘I’ve seen enough doctors to make me weary of ever seeing another one again. Besides … I don’t want to take sleeping pills and walk round like a zombie. And unless the medical profession has found an infallible method for eradicating hurtful memories—because it’s those that keep me awake at night—then I’ll just have to get on with it. Isn’t that what you advocate yourself?’

      ‘Dear God!’ Jake pushed to his feet. How was he supposed to endure the pain he heard in her voice? The pain he held himself responsible for?

      Yes, they’d been hit by a drunk driver that dark, rainy night when their world had come to an end, but he still should have been able to do something to avert the accident. Sometimes at night, deep in the midst of troubled sleep, he still heard his wife’s heartrending moans of pain and shock in the car beside him … He’d promised in their marriage vows to love and protect her always and that cruel December night he hadn’t … He hadn’t. He just thanked God that Saskia had been staying with his parents at the time and hadn’t been in the car with them. It didn’t bear thinking about that his child might have been hurt as badly as her mother.

      He must be a masochist, he reflected. Why had he come here to tell Ailsa himself that Saskia was prolonging her stay with his mother? He could so easily have got his chauffeur Alain to do the deed. Wasn’t that what he’d done for the past four years, so he wouldn’t have to come face to face with the woman he’d once loved beyond imagining? Wasn’t it a situation he’d willingly engineered so he wouldn’t have to discuss the deeper issues that had wrenched them apart perhaps even more than the accident?

      Sighing, he tunnelled his fingers through his hair. He was only staying the night while he was snowbound. As soon as the roads were passable again he would drive to the airport and return to Copenhagen. After spending a precious day or two with his daughter and mother he would get back to the palatial head offices of Larsen and Son, international property developers, and resume his work.

      ‘I’ve got an overnight bag in the car. I brought it just in case. I’ll go and bring it in.’ When he reached the door he glanced back at the slim, silent woman sitting on the couch and shrugged his shoulders. ‘Don’t worry … I promise not to outstay my welcome. As soon as the roads are cleared I’ll be on my way.’ Not waiting to hear her reply, Jake stepped out into the hallway.

      As hard as she bit down on her lip, Ailsa couldn’t prevent her eyes from filling up with tears. ‘Why?’ she muttered forlornly. ‘Why come here now and shake everything up again? I’m doing all right without you … I am!’

      Frustrated by the unremitting sorrow that rose inside her whenever Jake or the accident were mentioned, let alone having him near, she stoically put aside any further thoughts on the matter and instead made her way up to the spare bedroom to put clean sheets on the bed for her ex-husband’s unexpected overnight stay.

      On the way there she pushed open her daughter’s bedroom door and glanced in. The pretty pink walls were covered in posters, from the latest Barbie doll to instantly recognisable children’s programme characters. But amongst them were two large posters of the latest male teen movie idol, and Ailsa shook her head in wonder and near disbelief that her daughter was growing up so fast … too fast, in her book. Would it be easier if Saskia had both her parents taking care of her together instead of separately?

      In the time-honoured habit of caring parents everywhere, she wondered yet again if she was a good enough mother—if she was perhaps failing her child in some fundamental unconscious way? Was she wrong in wanting a career of her own? To stand on her own feet at last and not feel as if she was depending on her ex-husband? At the thought of Jake she wondered if she hadn’t been utterly selfish in pushing him away emotionally and physically, and finally driving him into asking for a divorce. She should have talked to him more, but she hadn’t. Relations between them had deteriorated so badly that they’d barely been able to look at each other, she remembered sadly.

      Hearing the front door open, then slam shut again, she quickly crossed the landing to