My Wife's Li'l Secret (13 page)

Two hours later, I was allowed to call Bear.

“You serious?” Bear sounded aghast.

“Yeah, I am Bear. Olga has a restraining order against me now, so I can’t go within three hundred meters of her.” I sighed as I ran my hand slowly over my face.

“What the fuck?!”

“Yeah…” My voice was grim.

“Be there in ten. Hang tight, Big.”

Bear was with me in eight minutes, his eyes hooded, his nostrils flaring. “Man, this sucks!”

“Yeah, I think she wanted something like this and…I played right into her hands. Now I can’t go home and they have the place to themselves. How convenient.”

Bear shrugged. “So, come stay with us.”

“I have a plan,” I said, and turned my whole body to face him. “Here’s what I wanna do.”

As Bear listened, his head bobbed. “Sounds like a plan.”

****

After being released from jail, I spent the night at Bear’s place. I had planned to go to a hotel, as I felt I was too much trouble, and I really didn’t want to hear Arena lecture me about how impulsive I was, and how my hot head was going to get me in trouble, and how I didn’t have to always have the last word to win a battle…blah blah blah!

But Bear threatened to physically harm me if I even talked about going to a hotel, and my sister didn’t lecture me once, to my surprise. And relief. She was concerned that things had gotten out of control, and that I was locked out of my own home.

I knew one thing: Olga was going to need money, so she would contact me soon. But I didn’t want my girls going without essentials, so I gave Arena my credit card to do some shopping for the house. “Drop everything outside my front door.”

I made sure she covered everything the girls would need, but I asked her not to include a single thing, a single drink or food that Olga or Cruikshank would need or enjoy. I was eager to see what was going to happen now that the gravy train had derailed and booze and coke weren't going to be free-flowing anymore.

“I know she’s going to call here,” I said to Bear.

“Don’t worry,” Bear said and pointed to the camera outside his home he had installed the day his daughter, little Savannah, went missing. “Motion detecting, recorded surveillance, remember? Just watch what you say when she arrives.”

I didn’t have my laptop with me, so I couldn’t see what was going on at home. I didn’t have my Jeep either, but that was okay.

Two days later, as expected, a sheepish Olga showed up at Arena’s place.

“You shouldn’t be here,” I said to her.

“This is just a misunderstanding,” she muttered, handing me my laptop even though I hadn’t asked for it.

With a scowl, I took it from her and placed it aside. I knew it was password protected, so I wasn’t worried about them going through it.

“No, it’s not a misunderstanding,” I said. “I know that you both were married before.”

I had no real proof of that, so I braced myself for her denial or her outrage or whatever reaction suited her distorted reality. To my surprise, her eyes turned the size of the clock on the wall. “What?!”

“I know that Viggo, or is it Cruikshank…? Which is it these days?” I folded my arms and looked at her.

Her head jerked around. “I…I …”

“Well, whatever; I know that he served time in prison.”

She turned fifty shades of grey, confirming that Cruikshank was using Viggo’s identity.

With a forced smile, I pulled out a bulging folder I had ready for her. “In here is all I need to go to the cops – and then both of you are going to prison.” I tapped it for dramatics. “Just waiting for the go ahead.”

The folder was stuffed with nothing but shopping catalogues taken from Arena’s mailbox, but at a glance, it looked like a batch of photos.

It worked; fear danced in her blue eyes. “Wha…what do you w…want from me?” she finally stammered.

“I want you and him out of my house, Olga. Tonight!”

Lines formed around her mouth and forehead. “And …and then what?”

“Then I will leave you alone. But I don’t want you in my house again. I know you’re doing cocaine.”

Maybe it was involuntary, but she wiped her nose with the back of her index finger.

“Snorting it off his thigh? Man, I have so much against you, Olga. Is that your name? Huh? Who
are
you? Other than the scammer you are?”

Her eyes swept the floor before the worry lines on her forehead disappeared. “Why haven’t you gone to cops as yet?” she asked, folding her arms across her chest, a trace of defiance in her voice.

“I need hard evidence. It’s coming along nicely.” I tapped my folder of catalogues again and wriggled my eyebrows. “Didn’t want to rush anything and spoil my already air-tight case.”

Her eyes flitted between the folder in my hand and my face. I allowed the throbbing silence, giving her time to digest all I had said, all that I had threatened.

That look of uncertainty she sported earlier on returned and she started to crack her knuckles.

“Leave my house and never come back, and I will not go to the cops.”

She chewed on her thumb nail. “Well, I don’t know…I have to think about …”

“I’ll give you an hour, then me and my solicitor, we’re going to …”

“Okay, okay, OKAY!” she yelled.

I backed off and gave her time to think.

She stuck all her fingers in her hair as she paced. “If I leave, will you sell the house and the business and give me my share?”

Sell the business? Was she serious?

“Sure,” I lied. “It won’t happen overnight, though.”

“You can take a loan against the property in the meantime and pay us.”

Pay
us.

They were openly an ‘us.’
Nice
. In spite of me wanting her out of my life, I felt a sliver of hurt. In my eagerness to get her out of my life, I swallowed the hurt and nodded.

Satisfied with my answer, she turned and hurried off to Cruikshank, who waited in the car for her.

Would she do as I asked? I wondered. Would Fuckhead talk her out of leaving my home?

Even though I didn’t want to get my hopes up, I allowed myself a tiny smile as I remembered the fear in her eyes when she saw the folder. Bet she wanted some coke really badly after that.

But I didn’t exhale, I didn’t gloat; I had to wait a little longer to do that.

An hour later, Olga returned to Arena’s house with both my kids.

“Here they are,” she said, ignoring Bear and Arena. “And you can go home now.”

I nodded and hugged my girls, barely able to contain my excitement at being able to sleep in my own home. Of never having them in my house again.

“Mummy yelled at Ally,” Becky said the moment Olga’s back was turned.

I looked at Ally, my eyebrows raised.

“Shut your mouth, Becky!” Ally snarled. “Nobody likes a tattletale, okay? Shut your mouth, Becky! Just shut it!”

“Hey! Hey! Hey!” I said, pulling Ally aside, stunned at her words, her naked fury. “What’s got into you, Ally? Why are you talking like that? Huh?”

We had never talked like that to each other before, and I had never yelled at my kids. I never ever told Olga to shut her mouth before, and even with her recent behavior, I cannot remember telling her that. I could have, with the rage I felt toward her recently, but I doubted that I did in front of the kids.

The confused look on Ally’s face told me that she was simply mirroring Olga’s bad mannerisms. “Apologize to Becky, Al. You’ve hurt her feelings, I’m sure.”

“Sorry, Becky,” Ally said in a sweet voice and gave her sister a hug.

“Okay,” Becky said with a toothy grin. “I love you, Ally.”

“Love you heaps, Becky,” Ally said.

As I watched my kids hug and forgive each other, I was certain I had done the right thing in getting rid of their mother.

Clearly, they were better off without her in their lives. Yet I still felt sad for them.

Bear insisted on going home with me even though I protested.

“Just wanna make sure that you don’t get your arse kicked again,” he said, pointing to my head, a grin on his face. “Gonna comb the house for more ashtrays and hide them.”

“Very funny, bitch!” I said, and touched my head gently. It still hurt from the bashing I took.

I guess Bear was afraid that Cruikshank was hiding in the shadows waiting for me, 9 mm in hand, or that Olga had a bird bath handy to whack me over the head.

But it was as Olga had said; they had packed their shit and vamoosed, to my utter delight.

Where to, I wasn’t sure. Maybe to the house in Dina Street. Who cared, they were out of my house!

Even though I was happy that she had left our home, I couldn’t help but feel disappointed with Olga’s apathy towards the children. She just walked away from her kids without a thought for them. Never even asked about seeing them again. She had been a good mother in the past, I couldn’t deny that. But all that changed the moment Cruikshank arrived on the scene. The moment he arrived, nobody else mattered. Clearly she was obsessed with him. She had to be in order to choose her lover over two children ages four and two. Two little girls who needed their mother. How could I not feel bitterness toward her?

A wave of sadness washed over me. Being sad and depressed was a luxury I couldn’t afford at that moment. With Olga gone, I had bigger problems – Ally’s school, Becky’s daycare, my work. How would I manage to drop Ally off at school in the mornings and get to my work on time? What about the afternoons? I would have to leave work early every day in order to pick her up on time. Becky didn’t have childcare, so I would need to find some. Where did I start?

I blew out my cheeks as I ran my hands slowly through my hair.

As I quietly stressed over my kids and life without their mother, Arena called.

“Listen,
boet
, I know someone who can help watch Becky during the day. She’s my friend Soong’s older sister, Girly. Remember Soong?”

“Yeah, yeah?”

“Girly doesn’t speak much English, but she watches kids and she’s…pleasant. I’ve met her.”

“Man, Arena, that would be amaaaaazing!”

“Thought you’d say that. I can pick up Ally and drop her off at pre-school, and in the afternoons, I will pick her up and keep her with me until you get home. How’s that?”

What a lifesaver my darling sister was. “That would be wonder –”

“Hey, you know, Girly would probably be able to do some light housework if you want? I can ask her.”

“Could you? Man, that would be fantastic. The place is a pigsty right now.”

“Okay, I’m on it,” Arena said and hung up.

What luck! Things had just gotten a whole lot brighter thanks to my sister.

****

At 6 a.m., I heard knocking on my front door. Olga? Cruikshank? I tensed at the thought of them returning.

But it was Soong, Arena’s friend, with her sister Girly in tow.

Girly, who was in her fifties, looked a lot like Arnold Schwarzenegger, but shorter. She sported a spiked haircut, a golf t-shirt, sweat pants, and a pair of brown moccasins hailed from Thailand. The name ‘Girly’ was a pun for sure.

She stepped into my house, took one look at the place and said, “Jesus God!”

That bad, huh?

I cringed as she and Soong spoke rapidly in Thai, surveyed the place with their hands on their hips, shook their heads at the state the house, and then shook their heads some more.

“It’s not
that
…bad,” I said in a feeble voice.

It was bad all right, and I felt ashamed of it.

“This is Pig,” Soong said, pointing at me. “And this is my sister Girly.”

Did she just call me a pig? I wondered. I must have heard wrong. The place was a pigsty, sure, but…

I put out my hand, in spite of their disrespect. “Nice to meet you, Girly.” I turned to Soong. “Good to see you again, Soong.”

“How long you stay here, Pig?” Girly asked me.

Pig was my new name; I chose to accept it rather than lose my help. “Eh, about three years.”

Just then my phone rang. It was Arena. I excused myself and answered the phone.

“Are they there, Ritchie?”

“Yeah…” I cupped my hands around my mouth, “But, ’Rena, they’re calling me Pig?”

“Pig?”

“Yeah. Twice. I mean, I know the place is in a state, but still…”

“Wait a minute!” Arena said. “Soong must have heard Bear calling you ‘Big,’ and she is making a mistake. That must be it.”

“Wha…?”

“You know, Soong must be mixing ‘Big’ with ‘Pig.’ That’s all.”

“Ah.” I didn’t know what to say.

Arena suddenly burst out laughing. Howled with laughter.

“Yeah, very funny, Arena.” I hung up and walked over to Girly and Soong.

“Pick a card,” Girly said to my girls, holding out a pack of very large playing cards.

Ally picked one.

Girly examined the card and said, “Ally, you marry a man in Canada.”

“She’s four!” I blurted and pulled her to me, horrified to hear the words ‘marry’ and Ally in the same sentence.

“Oh, cool, I like Canada!” Ally said, shrugging me off. “Where is Cana –”

“You are going to have three child –”

“She’s four!” I snapped.

“Four and a
half
, Dadda,” Ally said in a dismissive wave. “Three children, wow!” Ally said, clapping her little hands. “Do Becky! Do Becky!”

It was then I realized that Girly was playing with a deck of tarot cards!

Too stunned to do anything, I watched Girly proffer the pack to Becky.

Becky picked a card. “It’s got butterflies!” she said.

“Not butterflies, wasps!” Girly said, taking the card from Becky, visibly distressed at the sight of the wasps. She studied the card and nodded. “But …you are very lucky girl. You must take lotto.”

“She’s two!” I said.

“You going to win a lot of money!” Girly continued, ignoring me. “But you must buy lotto ticket.”

She’s two!

Both my kids looked at me with confused looks on their faces, obviously not knowing what a lotto ticket was. Since my main aim was to secure some help around the house, I swallowed my chiding and nodded. “Sure. I’ll buy one.” I turned to Girly. “Are you able to help me with the kids?”

“Sure, Pig,” she said. “Sure, sure!”

“Wonderful! And it’s Big, not –”

“Yes, yes. It’s big. Doesn’t matter, I can help you with big job.”

I stared at Girly wondering if I should correct her or let it ride. I decided to let it ride – go along to get along.

Each time she called me Pig, I flinched before I responded. When I heard my girls laugh with Girly and say, “Girly look at this!” and “Girly, look at that!” or, “Can you do it again?” I no longer cared what she called me. She could call me an ass for all I cared.

Girly smoked cigars, drank whisky, and had to drop everything at 4:30 p.m. to watch
Bold and the Beautiful
. “Ridge Forrester, him very beautiful,” she explained. “Brook Forrester – big bitch! Right?”

“Right!” I said, even though I had no idea who the Forresters were.

Even though I wasn’t happy about the smoking and drinking bit, out of desperation, I agreed to her smoking as long as she smoked outside the house, away from the children, and as long as she did not drink on the job.

“Jesus God!” I heard her mutter from time to time as she cleaned up. Each time I cringed.

But, I was really happy with Girly and I celebrated my new-found, tarot-card-toting, cigar-smoking, black-magic-loving, name-botching help by buying whisky, beer, and even vodka. (Okay, so it wasn’t black magic, but hell, it sounded a lot more interesting that way when I reported to Arena and Bear.)

Cruikshank wasn’t around to finish my booze, so I bought with confidence. The day went smoothly. There were no dramas, and Girly left at 7 p.m., looking exhausted. Once again, I not only had a clean and tidy house, but I also had kids that were bathed, fed, and ready for bed. To add to that, I also had Chivas to drink that night.

According to Arena, Girly was an illegal who didn’t have a place of her own. She stayed wherever she could, with whoever would employ her, mainly as a cleaner, and hoped they would not report her to the Department of Immigration.

As a result, people took advantage of her and sometimes made her work a whole month, only to refuse to pay her for her services. When she protested, they threatened to call the Department of Immigration.

How could I not feel sorry for her? I mean, like Soong, she was plucked from her home when she was just a child and raised in a brothel. She never had a childhood, and as a result, she had no idea how to interact with children, and treated them like adults. Now in her fifties, she struggled to find a place she could call her own.

I was so troubled by Girly’s story that I decided to do something about it.

“Girly can live here,” I said to Soong the very next day. “I’m happy to
double
her pay if she lives in, takes care of the kids, and minds the place while I work.”

“Ohhhh, you look for mail-order bride, Pig?” Soong asked in a sing-song voice. “Girly would like that.”

“God no!” That slipped out like a burp. “Eh, no, no, no, Soong,” I quickly corrected. “I just need
domestic
help, that’s all. Cleaner, housekeeper…”

“Oh, okay.” She actually sounded disappointed. “You have a spare room for her?”

“I sure do. We have five bedrooms here and only two are being used.”

“Hundred percent!” Soong said and left, promising to discuss it with Girly.

The next day Girly arrived at 6 a.m. with three battered suitcases, an old grey parrot in a cage who constantly said, “Jesus God!”, an overweight goldfish who barely moved, and a cactus that sported a similar haircut to hers.

My daughters were delighted with her, her parrot, her cactus, and her goldfish. After I got over my surprise, with a smile, I showed her to one of the spare bedrooms.

“Make yourself at home.” After realizing what I had just said, I quickly hastened to correct myself.

“Eh, make yourself
comfortable
.” I hoped it was not the same as saying
make yourself at home
.

“This is your room,” I settled for in the end. It was a safe sentence to me.

“Thank you, Pig.”

The kids helped her unpack while I helped hang up some pictures of her family she had brought.

Girly rewarded the kids with a song.
“Shirley had a little lamb, little lamb, little lamb, Shirley had a little lamb, its fleas were white as snow.”

“Eh, I think it’s
Mary
,” I heard Ally say. “Not
Shirley
.”

“Nah ah, is Shirley.”

“No,” know-it-all Ally said. “I’m pretty sure it’s
Mary.
And it’s not
fleas
, its
fleece
.

“What? Nah, can’t be.”

Ally laughed. “I think I’m right, Girly. Really, I am.”

There was a short silence before Girly looked at Ally and said, “What is
fleece
? It’s fleas. Pretty little
white
fleas.”

“Oh, no, fleas are not white and they’re not pretty, Girly, they’re horrid.”

“Really? Mm, we Google it, huh?” Girly said.

Girly knows Google?
She may have been confused between Mary and Shirley and fleece and fleas, but she knew Google. Go figure.

“You want to use the computer?” Ally asked.

“Nah, I got iPhone,” Girly said. “You got iPhone?”

“No, my mum says I’m too little.”

“What? You not too little, no. You’re my height. Almost.”

A confused look flitted across Ally’s little face as she looked at Girly, then at herself. “I…I …” She looked to me for help.

I just smiled.

****

That night when I returned home, the house was spotless, the kids were bathed and fed once again, and a plate of noodles awaited me. Nothing added, just plain, room temperature, unappetizing noodles that reminded me of flat eels.

I didn’t care for noodles, but since I was reluctant to disappoint Girly, I ate the plate of eels.

Before I could finish, Girly placed a cup of Chinese tea in front of me. It had no sugar or milk and it tasted awful, so I just sipped on it. But I was stunned to see both my kids drinking it without complaint.

Girly seemed to have a handle on things, so there was no need for me to interfere, I thought. Life was groovy and I was going to be just fine. Thank God for Girly.