The Wrong Kind Of Wife. Roberta Leigh

      CHAPTER FOUR

      THE piercing ring of the telephone at her side roused Lindsey from her stupor, and dazedly she reached for the receiver, sitting up swiftly as she heard Tim at the other end.

      ‘Why haven’t you called me?’ he said curtly. ‘Didn’t you get my message?’

      ‘Yes. But I didn’t return from Glasgow till late this afternoon. I understand you’re at Evebury?’

      ‘Yes, I am. So you rang the number I left?’

      ‘I went there,’ she said as casually as she could. It was pointless not telling him, given that Patsy would.

      He was silent, as if surprised, and Lindsey’s resentment became savage. ‘So you’ve gone back to Mummy and Daddy?’

      ‘Dammit, Lindsey, I’m here because—’

      ‘You were tired of pigging it with me!’

      ‘We weren’t exactly starving in a garret!’ he responded irritably. ‘My father’s had a stroke and is in hospital.’

      Lindsey was shocked into silence.

      ‘Will you come down?’ Tim asked.

      ‘Is he...how serious is it?’

      ‘Thank God it wasn’t a severe one. The specialist says he should recover completely. But it was totally unexpected.’

      ‘These things often are.’ Lindsey was surprised to find her voice husky. ‘Please give him my best wishes.’

      ‘Does that mean you won’t be coming here?’

      ‘There isn’t much point, is there? Your heart’s in Evebury and mine’s in London.’ She had a sudden inspiration. ‘Not for much longer, though. I’m going to America for six months.’

      ‘You can’t be serious!’ Tim exclaimed.

      ‘Yes, I am. Grace offered me the chance a few weeks ago and I’ve finally decided to accept it. It’s for the best.’

      ‘The best for whom? If you’re going because of Patsy, you’re mad!’

      ‘Mad because I can’t be as sophisticated about it as you?’ Lindsey stormed back, longing for him to say he was sorry and that he loved her more than anyone in the world.

      But he said none of these things, his tone icy as he spoke. ‘You’re making too much of something that’s totally unimportant and—’

      ‘I consider it bloody important!’

      ‘I’m in no mood to plead with you, Lindsey. Do what the hell you like. You always have, anyway. But I’ll say one thing for you—you certainly choose your moments!’

      ‘Our marriage was a mistake and the other night proved it.’

      ‘Stop using Patsy as an excuse,’ Tim exploded. ‘You’ve obviously been looking for one from the moment you were offered the job in the States. And if that’s what you want—go!’

      The receiver was crashed down, and Lindsey drew a shaky breath and returned to the kitchen. She was trembling as though with fever, and she forced herself to make another cup of tea and a cheese sandwich, then sat in an armchair and watched a programme she had researched a month ago.

      But for all the attention she paid to it it might as well have been in Chinese. All she could think of was Tim, and the lie she had told him. Should she call back and admit she’d no sooner leave him for six months than fly to the moon? Or was it better to go to Evebury and do it in person? It was probably the surest way of repairing their quarrel.

      Lindsey glanced at her watch. It was eight-thirty, too late to catch a train now—and Tim had taken the car so she could not drive down. She would have to wait until tomorrow. By then, he’d have realised he had over-reacted and ring to apologise.

      When morning dawned with no word from him, her anger resurfaced. Why should she be the one to patch things up, when it was his behaviour that had caused their row? Their marriage had been far from smooth, and he might have been looking for a pretext to end it. If so, Patsy had provided the perfect solution, for he would blame their parting on her jealousy—brought on by her inferiority complex!

      If that was the case, she would go to the States.

      She told Grace Chapman of her decision as soon as she arrived at the office.

      ‘I’m delighted,’ the woman said. ‘It’s a marvellous career move for you. And your husband doesn’t mind?’

      ‘No,’ Lindsey lied, the implication of all she was saying suddenly overwhelming her. ‘I can leave at the end of the week if you wish,’ she added.

      ‘Marvellous. I’ll notify New York.’

      The next few days were filled with preparations for her departure. Lindsey still hoped to hear from Tim, and worried how to tell Grace that she didn’t want to go to New York after all. But though she rushed to answer the telephone when it rang, it was never Tim at the other end, and she gradually accepted that she wouldn’t hear from him.

      Although she had had little contact with her father-in-law, she contacted the hospital to see how he was getting on, pleased to learn he was going home at the end of the week.

      On the Thursday night before her departure she hardly slept, tossing and turning as she debated what to do. Her marriage might have reached an impasse, but that didn’t mean it was over. She and Tim could use her stay in America as a cooling-off period, and given goodwill on both sides they could get back together on her return. She would tell him this before leaving; it was the adult way to handle the situation.

      Having reached this conclusion, she was on tenterhooks to speak to him, but controlled her agitation until eight a.m., when she deemed the Ramsden household to be awake.

      To her surprise the telephone was instantly answered by her mother-in-law, making her realise that the family were still on the alert regarding Mr Ramsden.

      ‘I’m sorry to bother you,’ Lindsey said after the usual polite greetings had been mouthed, ‘but may I have a word with Tim?’

      ‘He’s already left for the factory. Can I give him a message?’

      ‘No, thank you. I’ll call him there.’

      ‘I doubt if you’ll get him. He went in early to collect some papers before going on to an appointment.’

      ‘Do you know where? I must talk to him.’

      ‘Hold on a moment, I’ll ask Patsy. She spoke to him before he left the house.’

      Patsy! So she was there with him! If Lindsey had harboured a secret hope of a last-minute reconciliation, it was shattered now.

      ‘Don’t bother,’ she said quickly. ‘Don’t—don’t even tell him I called.’

      ‘Are you sure?’

      ‘Yes,’ Lindsey answered. ‘I—er—I’m glad to hear Mr Ramsden is coming home this weekend.’

      ‘You know?’ There was surprise in her mother-in-law’s voice, and Lindsey guessed that Tim had told her they had quarrelled.

      ‘I called the hospital to see how he was,’ she explained, and before Mrs Ramsden had a chance to say anything else she hung up, her sense of despair turning to fury as she thought of Patsy.

      Going into the bedroom, she finished her packing. The apartment was in Tim’s name so he could dispose of it as he chose. Clearly Patsy was remaining in his life; having lost him once, she wasn’t going to let him get away again.

      Lindsey stared round the room, her eyes brimming with tears as her glance fell on the bed where she and Tim had made such passionate