Contracted: Corporate Wife. Jessica Hart

I’ve heard that children are expensive nowadays,’ said Patrick, thinking of his sisters’ complaints.

      ‘They are, and the older they are, the more expensive they seem to become.’ Lou sighed and sipped her wine reflectively. ‘I’d like to be able to say that I had raised a couple of thoughtful, unmaterialistic, community-minded children who understood that the love and security you strive to give them mattered more than the latest brand of trainers or the newest computer game, but sadly they’re not like that at all!’

      ‘Oh?’ said Patrick, rather taken with the idea that Lou’s children weren’t the paragons he would have expected them to be. He found her attitude refreshing. He’d had to listen to too many mothers telling him how clever and talented and generally marvellous their children were.

      ‘They’re not bad kids,’ said Lou, ‘but they’re like all their friends. They want to be in with the in-crowd, to be like everyone else and to have what everyone else has. At least I haven’t been able to spoil them,’ she added with a wry smile. ‘The silver lining of living on a strict budget. Although naturally Grace and Tom don’t see it that way!’

      ‘Doesn’t their father give you any financial support?’ asked Patrick, ever the businessman. As a man who specialised in taking failing businesses and turning them round, he was clearly offended by the idea of losing control of your finances.

      Lou sighed a little, thinking of Lawrie. ‘He’s always willing in principle, but when it comes to transferring money there’s always some great scheme that he needs to buy into temporarily which will solve all our problems.’

      ‘And does it?’

      ‘No. The last time he had any real money to invest, he lost us our house,’ said Lou, trying to make light of it. ‘There’s no way I’m getting back on the property ladder in London now.’

      ‘Unfortunate,’ commented Patrick, looking disapproving. He was far too canny a businessman ever to take the kind of risks Lawrie ran all the time.

      Lou thought of the day Lawrie had come home and confessed that he had borrowed against the house, and lost it all on some idiotic venture that a child of six could have told him would fail.

      Oh, and that by the way he was leaving her for a younger, prettier woman who wasn’t so boring about being sensible about money.

      Of course, the other woman didn’t have two children to worry about, so it was easy for her.

      Lou had lost her home and her husband on a single day. A double whammy as her world fell apart. Not one of the best days of her life.

      ‘It was a bit,’ she agreed, smiling bitterly at the understatement.

      There was a pause. Patrick was having to adjust his ideas about Lou. She had always seemed so cool and in control, it was hard to imagine her dragged down by a feckless husband, having to scrape and make do.

      ‘So marrying for money might solve some of your problems?’ he said, trying to lighten the atmosphere, and Lou was glad to follow his lead.

      ‘Well, I’ve got to admit that I haven’t given it a lot of thought as an option before,’ she said, ‘but I really think it might. In fact, I wonder if marrying you might not be just the thing!’

      ‘I’m glad you think I might be of some use to you!’

      ‘When you’re in my position, you can’t afford to be proud,’ said Lou frankly. ‘I’m sick of scraping by and worrying about money the whole time. And I hate not being able to give Grace and Tom the kind of life I want for them.’

      ‘You said you didn’t want to give them things,’ Patrick reminded her, and she nodded.

      ‘I don’t. They don’t need things, but they do need more space, for instance. If you saw where we live now…’

      She trailed off with a grimace at the thought of the flat. ‘I know we’re better off than some, but it’s a tiny apartment for the three of us. Grace and I have to share a bedroom, and Tom’s is barely more than a cupboard. If you want to have any privacy, you have to go into the bathroom, and even then there’s always one of them banging on the door.’

      Lou sighed. ‘It’s so small we all get on top of each other, and that makes everyone scratchy. I’m sure we wouldn’t argue nearly so much if we had more space.’ She cocked her head at him. ‘You’ve got a big house, haven’t you?’

      ‘I’ve got three.’

      ‘There you go, then. Plenty of room to spread ourselves. And I bet you don’t have neighbours going through a marital crisis on one side of you, while those on the other put the television on full blast at seven in the morning and don’t turn it off until well after midnight?’

      ‘I don’t know what state my neighbours’ marriage is in, or what their viewing habits are, but I certainly can’t hear them,’ agreed Patrick.

      ‘I didn’t think so. And you probably don’t have people upstairs either?’

      ‘No, I’ve got the whole house to myself.’

      Lou sighed enviously. ‘Our neighbours upstairs are perfectly nice, but every footstep reverberates through the ceiling, and we can hear almost everything they say above a whisper.’

      ‘It sounds as if marrying me would certainly improve your accommodation prospects,’ said Patrick dryly.

      ‘Oh, don’t worry, I’d want your money too.’ Lou waved a piece of bread at him gaily. ‘Not millions, just enough to be able to do the kind of things I could have done for them if Lawrie had stayed and we hadn’t lost the house. I’d love to be in a position where I could encourage their interests, give them a chance to develop their talents, open their eyes to how other people live…’

      She trailed off wistfully. ‘I’d really like to be able to take them abroad for a holiday one year. Grace has friends whose father took them to the States last summer. They had a week in Florida, and a week in New York, where they stayed in some swish apartment and got taken round the Statue of Liberty in a private speedboat. Grace was so jealous, she could hardly speak to Alice and Harriet when they got back. I know she’d love a holiday like that, but all I can afford is to take them to see my aunt in the Yorkshire Dales. It’s not that exciting for a fourteen-year-old.’

      It didn’t sound that exciting to a forty-eight-year-old either, thought Patrick, and then sucked in an exasperated breath as he saw the waiters bearing down on them once more with their main courses. They had to go through the whole rigmarole as before, both waiters hovering sycophantically around Lou and vying to top up her glass or express the hope that she would enjoy her meal.

      And Lou just sat there, encouraging them with that smile of hers.

      Patrick watched them grovel off at last with a disgruntled expression. ‘If things are that tight, wouldn’t it be cheaper for you to move out of London?’

      ‘Yes, I often think that,’ said Lou as she picked up her knife and fork. ‘It’s the rent that’s so expensive anywhere within commuting distance of London. I’d love to live in the country, and I’m sure I could get some kind of job, although it’s not easy starting in a new place when you’re over forty.’

      ‘So why don’t you do it?’

      ‘Because the kids would hate it. They’re both settled at a good school in the centre of London. London’s all they’ve ever known, so they’re real metropolitans now. It’s bad enough taking them to the Dales for a week. They just droop around and say that they’re bored. Tom’s not too bad when you get him up and out, but Grace pines for her friends.’

      ‘You can’t arrange your whole life around your children,’ said Patrick, looking down his nose disapprovingly.

      Lou put down her knife and fork and looked at him in wonder at his lack of understanding. ‘But that’s exactly what you have to do,’ she corrected him. ‘That’s