he hit her with another bomb. “We’ll need furniture too of course.” She hadn’t even thought of that for a house that size. It was a daunting prospect, and would be an expensive one. They were going to be hemorrhaging money for the next five months. She remembered a remodel her mother had done of the city apartment, and her father’s complaints about how expensive it was. Now she understood. She had only known Nigel for seven months, and had no idea how expensive his tastes were. He had very grandiose ideas. But as soon as she agreed to buy the house, he became warm and loving again, and wanted to make love to her all the time. The floodgates had opened and he couldn’t get enough of her. The cold war was over, but it had cost her dearly. He never doubted for a moment that she could afford it. He had done his homework well.
They took possession of the house in May, and the workmen started almost immediately. It was a mess within days. The whole house was torn apart for Nigel’s improvements. It looked like a bomb had hit it. The pristine quality she had liked about it had vanished. The disruption added measurably to the tension between them. Their nights in the mews house were more stressful than pleasant as they argued about the work on the new house. The weekend parties they went to constantly, more than ever now that they were the golden couple everyone wanted to entertain, only meant that she had to put a good face on the strife between them.
They were barely speaking to each other again on the first of June, when Nigel came home from a Saturday lunch with some of his male friends looking sheepish. She had no idea why he looked that way, and didn’t ask him. She was already tired of problems with the contractor and workmen at the house, doing work that hadn’t needed to be done anyway. It seemed like a total waste of time and money, and a lot of both.
“Do you want to go out to dinner tonight?” he asked her, which surprised her. They hadn’t gone out to dinner alone since April. They had done nothing but argue about the house, and eat at home. And most nights they didn’t bother to eat dinner, after they argued about the latest estimates from the contractor. Their lovemaking fell by the wayside again. She was paying for everything and money was flowing out the door. She had read somewhere that remodeling and moving were two of the greatest life stressors other than divorce or loss of a loved one. She was tired of hearing about the house she hadn’t wanted in the first place. She wasn’t sure she wanted to have dinner with him, and hear more. She was sure he had come up with some new expensive plan for the remodel.
She hesitated and he looked at her, and sat down on the couch. “I have something to tell you.”
“The house burned to the ground,” she said in a choked voice, almost hoping it had.
“Of course not. It’s going to be gorgeous and you’re going to love it. No, I had an opportunity today that I couldn’t pass up. I would have called you, but I didn’t want to tell you on the phone. A friend of mine invited one of my old mates from Eton for lunch. A great guy. He moved to Australia after he left Oxford. His parents died recently and he was here to settle their affairs. They had an absolutely gorgeous house in Sussex. My friend needs money, and he told me to name my price. I quoted an absolutely, ridiculously low amount, and he took it on the spot. We shook hands on it, so it’s a done deal. We’ll need a country house anyway, Coco. I know this is a lot all at once, but trust me, it’s a gorgeous place. I couldn’t pass it up. It needs a little work, but not much.”
“You did what?” She stood across the room from him and stared at him, unable to believe what he had just said. “You bought a house in Sussex over lunch? It’s a done deal and you didn’t even call me? And you expect me to pay for it? Are you out of your mind, Nigel?” This time she wasn’t frightened or upset. She was furious. She couldn’t believe he’d done something