Page 125 of Wife After Wife

“So we need a good excuse for a celebration. We’ll make it special, and perhaps Rose pink themed, eh, Eliza?”

“Yes! Can we have pink cake?”

“Somebody stop this child with her Disney ideas,” said Arabella.

“Harry’s right,” said Charles. “Things have been shite. But let’s hope we’ve turned the corner. Harry’s back on his feet and is going to be married again. So let’s be happy for him, eh?”

CHAPTER 39

Harry

December 2003

Harry and Janette had a Christmas wedding. The “small do” ballooned into something bigger when Janette acknowledged that—really—she wanted the wedding she’d dreamed of since she was a little girl. More than once she referred to it as her “Pretty Womanmoment, except I wasn’t a... you know.”

Her dress was palest pink, with a matching cape edged in white fake fur. She carried a fur muff and wore pink rosebuds in her hair.

Hooray!’s editor, Mia Fox, had suggested an exclusive wedding splash, but when Terri tipped Harry off that she’d probably make it a passive-aggressive attack on Janette, he vetoed the idea.

As they left for Heathrow, Janette tossing her bouquet straight at Lesley from human resources, Harry leaned back contentedly against the leather seats of the vintage Rolls and took Janette’s hand. He was on his way to Barbados with his adorable new wife, Rose Corp.’s bottom line was healthy again, and when they returned from their honeymoon, they’d look for a new home suitable for a family. His leg pained him only occasionally, and he was down to just a handful of painkillers a day.

Third time lucky.

Janette

June 2004

Janette put a Tesco shepherd’s pie in the microwave and poured herself a glass of pinot grigio. She’d just returned from dropping Eliza at Persephone Willoughby’s house for a sleepover. She’d stayed for a glass of wine with the other mums but had escaped at the first opportunity, explaining she had to get ready for an evening out (a lie).

Janette wasn’t comfortable with the yummy mummies. When she and Harry had first moved to Primrose Hill, Eliza joining them soon after, her stepdaughter had received so many playdate invitations that Janette had needed to open a social diary just for her. The mums were all keen for their children to become best friends with Harry Rose’s daughter.

Most were collected from school by nannies, but the mothers would come home before Janette arrived to collect Eliza, and it would be rude not to accept the offer of a cup of tea. The choice of tea was important. She’d learned never to ask for “just normal.” A preference for something more creative was expected, something organic that reduced one’s stress levels.

Picking up Eliza also meant doing her hair and makeup and being dressed in the latest activewear. It was all quite exhausting. The next challenge would be how to avoid joining the PTA.

One by one, as the mothers learned she’d been Harry’s secretary, possessed of no particular skill other than a talent for needlework (sewing?), there would be a moment where the balance shifted. She might be above them in the pecking order, but really, she was nothing special, especially compared to the spectacular Ana Rose, a regular on the society pages. She could see them wondering, how had a girl like her bagged a guy like Harry?

She missed life at the office and intended looking for charity work once the renovations were finished. Harry had given her carte blanche to redecorate the Georgian mansion, which was symmetrical, like a doll’s house. She’d been busy choosing paint colors, and wallpaper for feature walls, inspired byChanging Rooms, which she usually watched before Harry came home from work. He’d offered to pay for a top interior designer, but she wanted to choose everything herself.

On the whole, Janette loved her new life. Eliza, while still pining for her real mother, had immediately accepted her as stepmother, and the two of them would cuddle on the sofa in the evenings to do Eliza’s reading homework, followed by a chapter of Harry Potter.

Janette hadn’t broached the subject yet, knowing it was a sensitive one, but she wanted to start trying for a child of her own. Harry had mentioned more than once that he’d love a boy.

He’d probably be home late tonight, she thought, as she took her meal into the drawing room and switched on the TV to watch the evening news. His new airline, Rose Air, had been launched that day. It would be the budget airline with a difference, flying daily to the UK’s five favorite European holiday destinations—for starters.

Harry had been immersed in every detail, from the logo design to the selection of the “face” of Rose Air, Zara Lively, the stewardess who would appear in their advertising. The uniform was Rose red, of course.

And here he was!

“Harry Rose, head of media giant Rose Corp., launched a new budget airline today...”

Harry was standing with a handsome pilot and Zara Lively, in front of a Rose airliner.

Janette frowned. Harry looked pale, and she could see the sweat on his brow.

Later, she went into the bathroom and opened the cupboard. So many bottles. Were they all prescribed by his specialist? She knew he was trying to cut down. Was the doctor helping him with that?

She’d have a word this weekend.