Read Online The Trials of Tiffany Trott by Isabel Wolff - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Isabel Wolff
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asked airily, fiddling with my pudding fork and hoping that what he had actually meant to say was that he had in mind a little proposal for me. Propositions always sound vaguely dodgy, don’t they?
He fiddled with the knot of his tie. “You see,” he began hesitantly, “my wife and I . . .”
“Your wife ?”
“Yes.” He looked at me. “Wife.”
“Oh.” My heart did a bungee jump.
“You see she . . . Olivia. That’s her name. Olivia and I . . .” He took a sip of water. He appeared to be struggling. “. . . well . . . we don’t really get on. In fact, we were never really very compatible in the first place,” he continued. “We’ve soldiered on for years, but recently we’ve just found it pretty intolerable. There’s never been anyone else involved,” he added quickly. “I wouldn’t like you to think that. But it’s just that our marriage is, well, a bit of a farce, really.”
My hopes rose as swiftly on their elasticated rope as they had plummeted a moment before. In that case he could get divorced, couldn’t he, and it would all be OK? I could still have my dream man with his lovely voice and his smart suits and his exquisite neckwear and his jokes.
“However,” I heard him continue, “we are extremely unlikely to split up.”
“Oh.” Oh. “Why?”
“Because her father is my main backer. He lent me a consid p. 53 erable amount of money when I set up my company fifteen years ago.”
“I see.”
“I had nothing then. Except my ideas, and my energy, and my ambition. And he enabled me to make a success of it. It would have been almost impossible otherwise. And it has been, well . . .”
“Seriously Successful?” I suggested.
“Yes,” he said with a little shrug. “It has. That’s why I have the house in Sussex and the smart flat in town. That’s why I’m wearing a Savile Row suit and handmade shoes. That’s why my daughter goes to Benenden. All because Olivia’s father laid the foundations for my business success.”
“But if the company’s done that well, couldn’t you just, well, pay him back?” I ventured.
“I have,” he replied. “Of course I have. With interest. But it’s not as simple as that, because when he agreed to back me, he said he would only do it if I promised always to look after Olivia and never, ever leave her. That was the condition. He was very emphatic about it, and I said I would honor it. And I will. In any case,” he carried on with a slight grimace, “divorce is so unpleasant, especially where children are involved. I really don’t want to inflict that on my daughter.”
“Well personally I think adultery’s very unpleasant. I really don’t want to inflict that on myself.”
“And the reason why I put in that ad is because I’m just, well, rather lonely and love-starved really, and I wanted to find someone I can care for and . . .”
“Spoil a little or even a lot,” I said dismally.
“Er. Yes. Yes. Exactly. Someone I can have fun with. And when I talked to you, and met you this evening, and was terribly attracted to you, which I am, then I knew that the person I could have fun with was you.”
“What the hell makes you think I want to have fun ?” I said. “I don’t want any bloody fun. I want to get married .”
p. 54 “Well, I’m afraid I can’t actually offer you marriage,” he said. “Not as such. But we could still have a wonderful relationship,” he added enthusiastically. “Though of course it would have to be part-time.”
“Part-time? Oh I see,” I said, twisting the handle of my pudding spoon. “Well, perhaps you could tell me what that would involve. I mean, how many days off would I get? And would I have any union rights? Would I get the usual benefits and sick pay, and could you guarantee me a minimum wage? And if I were to sign a contract what would happen if Britain signed up to the Social Chapter? You see I’ve got to think about these things.”
“Don’t be
He fiddled with the knot of his tie. “You see,” he began hesitantly, “my wife and I . . .”
“Your wife ?”
“Yes.” He looked at me. “Wife.”
“Oh.” My heart did a bungee jump.
“You see she . . . Olivia. That’s her name. Olivia and I . . .” He took a sip of water. He appeared to be struggling. “. . . well . . . we don’t really get on. In fact, we were never really very compatible in the first place,” he continued. “We’ve soldiered on for years, but recently we’ve just found it pretty intolerable. There’s never been anyone else involved,” he added quickly. “I wouldn’t like you to think that. But it’s just that our marriage is, well, a bit of a farce, really.”
My hopes rose as swiftly on their elasticated rope as they had plummeted a moment before. In that case he could get divorced, couldn’t he, and it would all be OK? I could still have my dream man with his lovely voice and his smart suits and his exquisite neckwear and his jokes.
“However,” I heard him continue, “we are extremely unlikely to split up.”
“Oh.” Oh. “Why?”
“Because her father is my main backer. He lent me a consid p. 53 erable amount of money when I set up my company fifteen years ago.”
“I see.”
“I had nothing then. Except my ideas, and my energy, and my ambition. And he enabled me to make a success of it. It would have been almost impossible otherwise. And it has been, well . . .”
“Seriously Successful?” I suggested.
“Yes,” he said with a little shrug. “It has. That’s why I have the house in Sussex and the smart flat in town. That’s why I’m wearing a Savile Row suit and handmade shoes. That’s why my daughter goes to Benenden. All because Olivia’s father laid the foundations for my business success.”
“But if the company’s done that well, couldn’t you just, well, pay him back?” I ventured.
“I have,” he replied. “Of course I have. With interest. But it’s not as simple as that, because when he agreed to back me, he said he would only do it if I promised always to look after Olivia and never, ever leave her. That was the condition. He was very emphatic about it, and I said I would honor it. And I will. In any case,” he carried on with a slight grimace, “divorce is so unpleasant, especially where children are involved. I really don’t want to inflict that on my daughter.”
“Well personally I think adultery’s very unpleasant. I really don’t want to inflict that on myself.”
“And the reason why I put in that ad is because I’m just, well, rather lonely and love-starved really, and I wanted to find someone I can care for and . . .”
“Spoil a little or even a lot,” I said dismally.
“Er. Yes. Yes. Exactly. Someone I can have fun with. And when I talked to you, and met you this evening, and was terribly attracted to you, which I am, then I knew that the person I could have fun with was you.”
“What the hell makes you think I want to have fun ?” I said. “I don’t want any bloody fun. I want to get married .”
p. 54 “Well, I’m afraid I can’t actually offer you marriage,” he said. “Not as such. But we could still have a wonderful relationship,” he added enthusiastically. “Though of course it would have to be part-time.”
“Part-time? Oh I see,” I said, twisting the handle of my pudding spoon. “Well, perhaps you could tell me what that would involve. I mean, how many days off would I get? And would I have any union rights? Would I get the usual benefits and sick pay, and could you guarantee me a minimum wage? And if I were to sign a contract what would happen if Britain signed up to the Social Chapter? You see I’ve got to think about these things.”
“Don’t be
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