Wife For Hire. Cathy Williams
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I’m sure that you and your girlfriend will be able to sort everything out suitably,’ she said vaguely.
There was a knock on the door and Mrs Williams poked her head around it, her eyes flitting between the two of them questioningly. Rebecca smiled, relieved, but her relief lasted approximately three seconds, until he said, without the slightest hint of apology in his voice, ‘We’re not quite finished here. Perhaps you could give us another…’ he glanced at his watch ‘…half an hour?’ It was just lip-service to politeness. The three of them knew that the principal would give him just as long as he wanted, and she nodded and retreated back, shutting the door behind her.
‘Where were we…?’ he asked, settling back to look at Rebecca.
‘You were just agreeing that once you get Emily back everything will be fine. I’m sure your girlfriend will rise to the occasion and give you both all the support you need.’
‘Well, now, I’m not at all sure I want to throw poor little Fiona into any such situation…’ he ruminated, and Rebecca ground her teeth together in sheer frustration. She had no idea where all this was going, but she had a suspicion that it was going somewhere.
‘If she loves you,’ Rebecca said firmly, ‘then she’d want to help you deal with it. And she’d also want to help Emily deal with it.’
‘Oh, I’m sure she’d like nothing better than to busily try and make herself indispensable, but, you see, I don’t want any such thing.’
‘Oh, right. Well, that’ll be up to the two of you to sort out between yourselves.’
‘But then I’m back with my little problem, aren’t I? One wayward, pregnant daughter who needs home tutoring. Even if I find the time to interview a series of prospective candidates, I’m abroad a hell of a lot, and I won’t be available to supervise how things are going. And you have to admit, knowing Emily as you seem to do, that supervision is going to be essential.’
‘Not if you find someone you feel confident in.’
‘I’m glad you said that.’ He smiled at her. The smile of a rampaging barracuda that had successfully managed to trap its prey through sheer cunning. Rebecca stared back at him blankly.
‘Because you are going to be Emily’s home tutor.’ He sat back and watched her, and she could feel her face transparently revealing every single thing that was going through her head. Stunned surprise, followed swiftly by incredulity, followed even more swiftly by a complete rejection of the idea.
‘I’m sorry,’ she apologised, ‘but there’s no way that I can…’
‘Why not? This is an appalling business and you yourself stated that the only way out of it for Emily, without ruining her chances in life for ever, is to employ a home tutor.’ He tapped his finger. ‘She trusts you, first of all.’ He tapped another finger. ‘You’re a good teacher from all accounts, well able to get her through her exams.’ He tapped a third finger. ‘I won’t need to supervise the situation if I know that whoever is with Emily can be trusted. So where’s the problem?’
‘Where’s the problem? Where’s the problem? How can you ask that?’ Her voice had risen and she had leant forward, so that her bun now did the dirty on her and collapsed. With one hand she yanked her hair free and it fell around her face, straight, shiny and ludicrously image-altering. ‘The problem is that I already have a job! Just in case it’s passed you by! I can’t just up sticks and take on a temporary private job because it suits you!’
‘I’m not the one at stake,’ he pointed out calmly. ‘Emily is. If her education fails her now, then I needn’t paint you a picture of what life holds in store for her.’ Having said that he needn’t paint a picture, he then proceeded to paint a complete and graphic picture of his daughter’s supposed state of affairs, should home tutoring prove impossible for one reason or another. He, too, leant forward, resting his elbows on his thighs, and skewered her with his eyes so that she felt as though she was personally under attack.
‘Suppose I do manage to find her someone to tutor her at home,’ he began, making it sound as if the task would be along the lines of finding a needle, possibly even a broken one, in an enormous haystack, ‘you know my daughter probably as well as I do. In fact, probably much better. She would eat the poor person alive. Or else she would do her best to ensure that the minimum of work was done, so that the duration of each tutor would be approximately a fortnight. Which,’ he emphasised, ‘would mean that any educational benefits would be eradicated.
‘She would see this situation through and emerge from it well behind her peer group. With that immediate disadvantage dogging her, where would she find the impetus to suddenly pick things up and get going again? With a baby in tow? Far easier to simply let the whole damned thing slide, and in a couple of years’ time, when she became utterly bored of being at home, supported by me, she would find herself some nondescript, badly paid, lowly job totally unworthy of her wasted talents.’
Rebecca felt physically besieged by his onslaught.
‘Well,’ she began, ‘that all seems a bit on the extreme side, Mr Knight. I’m sure—’
‘What you’re sure of, at the end of the day, is that you don’t want to become involved. You’ve uttered your little words of wisdom, but beyond that…well…’ He sat back and gave an infuriatingly Gallic shrug of his shoulders.
‘That’s not what I’m saying at all!’ she responded heatedly. How dared he imply that she didn’t care? Of course she cared! And who was he to speak, anyway? Wherever the truth lay as far as his relationship with his daughter was concerned, she would bet her last pay cheque that it didn’t fall on the side of Nicholas Knight, devoted father, mysteriously slandered by his only daughter. Oh, no, sir!
‘Then please clarify. I’m all ears.’ He cocked his head to one side and she could have hit him.
‘I’m merely pointing out that I am currently employed…’
‘And that’s your only objection?’ he asked, interested.
‘It’s a pretty big one from where I’m sitting,’ Rebecca countered cuttingly. ‘We minor members of the workforce do like to have a bit of job security, you know.’
There was another knock on the door.
Again Mrs Williams poked her head around and was about to speak, when he told her that they were wrapped up.
‘I’ve just made a little proposition to your star teacher,’ he opened by saying, and when the principal raised her eyebrows in polite enquiry he then proceeded to fill her in on all the details of his preposterous plan. Rebecca watched him as he spoke. He was paying no attention to her now. Every scrap of his considerable concentration was focused on the principal, who was visibly wilting from the sheer impossibility of getting a word in edgeways. He politely sidestepped every objection that began forming on her lips with the dexterity of a trapeze artist.
Finally, he informed her, as a point of passing interest, that he would compensate her hugely for releasing Rebecca immediately.
‘No!’ Rebecca protested hotly. ‘I mean,’ she carried on in a less frantic voice, ‘it was just an idea that Mr Knight had. I’m sure you would be able to recommend some private tutors for Emily in the London area. Gosh, there must be thousands!’
‘Yes, I’m sure—’
‘No,’ he cut in before the principal could finish her sentence. ‘I think perhaps you both misunderstood me…’ He shot Rebecca a look from under his lashes which implied that any misunderstanding was purely on the part of the principal because he had made his thoughts crystal-clear to Rebecca. ‘As I explained to Miss Ryan, Emily will be an uphill task for any private tutor, apart from one who knows how to handle her, as she clearly does. I realise that it will be difficult to release her today, but the end of the term is…when? In a fortnight’s time? That will give you all of the Christmas vacation to work on finding a replacement, and, as I said, I will pay generously