9 comments/ 23709 views/ 4 favorites The Great Man's Wife By: Moondrift Robin sat staring cynically at the photograph that took up most of the front page of the newspaper. "He Wins a Second Term," screamed the headlines. Every newspaper, every news outlet in the country was carrying that nice domestic scene; The Great Man and his family standing on a dais, all smiles, hugs and kisses, united in his victory. "My God, if only the public knew what went on behind that façade of family harmony," he thought. He had known The Great Man's wife Jemima since his childhood. His parents being members of the power elite they had known Jemima's family and he had often spent time at their various residences, country and city. Throughout his childhood and early manhood he had learned of the wheeling and dealing of the of the powerful, and had not been surprised when the gorgeous Jemima had married The Great Man, who at that time was not quite The Great Man, but looked set fair to become so. At the time of the marriage the media had fed the public with the line that, "This is the love match of the century." Those who were in the know understood that the marriage was something less than a "love match" and more of a political deal. Jemima would be the lovely wife of the handsome and dynamic Great Man; thus she would bring her family even closer to the centre of power and the political influence and the economic spin-offs that would accrue from the union. For The Great Man Jemima would become part of his carefully crafted image, her beauty adding to his prestige, giving him the advantage of appearing as the devoted husband, and in due course father; a picture so dear to the voters. Robin did not doubt that Jemima had known what the deal was. If she hadn't then she soon found out. The Great Man made no attempt to keep from her what his minders hid from the public; that he was a womaniser of vast appetite. Jemima produced three children in quick succession. Like Caesar's wife she had to be, or appear to be, above reproach. Whether or not Jemima had any sexual transgressions to be covered up, Robin did not know. Now there it was, a picture of family devotion as The Great Man, holding Jemima's hand and with his children and Jemima gazing at him adoringly, he smiled for the camera as he had so often done before. As a member of a powerful family Robin was part of The Great Man's social circle, or more accurately, Jemima's. She was a few years older than him, but at those weekend parties during his childhood he had got to know her quite well, and in his teen years he had even fancied himself to be in love with her. But Jemima had come under the gaze of The Great Man, or more to the point, his father, who saw advantage in the union of the two families. For all that he was often sickened by the devious, wheeling and dealing world he lived and moved in, Robin still received and accepted invitations to attend The Great Man and Jemima at their country house "The Retreat" and occasionally at "The Lodge," their official residence in the capital, slightly misnamed since its size more nearly resembled a palace. He went more as the guest of Jemima than of The Great Man and he had received just such an invitation for the following weekend. This was to be a follow-up celebration among what were called "Friends" for The Great Man's electoral victory. Looking back at the picture for a moment he felt sorry for Jemima. He remembered the lovely and lively girl of his youth who had now become a puppet simpering for the media. Then he mentally shrugged; "She knew what the score was and even given family pressure she could have said 'no'." Then he thought self-mockingly about his own situation, "I suppose I could say 'no' too." He did not drive himself to The Retreat, but was collected by a chauffeured limousine, the driver undoubtedly being one of the many agents whose task it was to guard The Great Man. As they approached The Retreat, but still a couple of kilometres from it, they were stopped at a boom gate manned by some uniformed men carrying sub-machine guns. A razor wire fence extended out on either side of the gate to disappear in the distance. He could see another uniformed man with a large dog patrolling along the fence. He was inspected, his invitation that also served as a pass was examine carefully; the chauffer gave a nod when one of the guards glanced at him; the boom gate was lifted and they drove on. Within sight of the house they came to another boom gate with its guards. There was another inspection and they were waved on. The car pulled up in front of the huge portico and the car door was opened by a man in a dark suit. He was to see many men in dark suits, their jackets carefully tailored to conceal the holster with its automatic pistol. He was not greeted by The Great Man but by Jemima. This was the case on all his visits, since he was deemed to be her guest. She came down the steps to greet him. She was about thirty three or four and still looked incredibly beautiful. He wondered why, having such a lovely wife, The Great Man found it necessary to seek his sexual gratifications elsewhere. But of course, that was what the public also thought, and since they did not know of his philandering they thought all must be well in The Great Man's marital bed. Jemima smiled at him, displaying to considerable advantage what was truly a triumph for the art of modern dentistry. He remembered she had slightly crooked teeth in childhood. She came to him, and not so much shaking his hand, but taking it in hers, and saying, "It's lovely to see you, Robin." Then she planted a virtuous kiss on his cheek. Robin wondered if there was a camera somewhere, and that next day there would be pictures proclaiming, "The Great Man's wife greets guest." Whether that was true on not, he knew for certain there were cameras following every move he made; he had always had a suspicion that there were even hidden cameras in the bedrooms, or at least listening devices. Two dark suits had taken his luggage from the car and were going up the steps to the house. Robin and Jemima followed, she still holding his hand. This was an unusual touch, and he wondered what, during the weekend, he was going to be asked to persuade his father to do when he got back home. "It must be something out of the ordinary," he thought, because normally the contact between his father and The Great Man would have been direct. In the huge foyer Jemima let go of his hand and said very quietly, "We must have a private talk later, Robin." With that she wafted away leaving the faint fragrance of expensive perfume behind her. "Ah," he thought, "so she's been briefed to approach me for whatever they want." The dark suits had started to ascend the wide marble curving stairs to the first floor. He followed them along a corridor, and after passing part-way along it, one of them opened a door and then stood back. "Your room, sir; the servants will be along soon to unpack for you." "Thanks." He entered the room. It was large light and airy with windows extending its full width and a large bed. He knew the routine. You never unpacked your self; this was the task of "servants" who were attractive women but clearly the female equivalents of the dark suits. It was their task to surreptitiously and carefully examine each item as they stowed it away. "There are drinks in the library, sir," a dark suit said. He knew this was what was expected. He was to go to the library while the luggage search was carried out. Robin somewhat grimly smiled his thanks and made his way to the library, a vast room lined with books that looked as if their red and gold jackets had never been touched. A dark suit stood behind a bar. He was not actually wearing a dark suit but the black trousers and white shirt of a barman, but everything about him shouted "dark suit." He was dispensing drinks to the small group that had gathered there, some of whom Robin recognised as power brokers. Among them were some very attractive young women. The dark suit barman asked, "Can I get you something, sir?" Robin decided that he had best keep his wits about him and ordered a soft drink. He had just been handed his drink when in came The Great Man accompanied by Jemima. He paused for a moment flashing his well known smile that rivalled Jemima's in dental artistry. He passed among the guests shaking hands and making hearty comments until he came to Robin. He looked puzzled for a moment, then recovering he extended his hand saying, "It's great to see you again…er…" "Robin Milton," whispered Jemima. "Robin Milton! Carl Milton's boy." "He has been here before," Jemima whispered again. "Yes…yes…of course, I remember now. How is your father?" "Very well thank you, sir," replied Robin. "Good…good, well, enjoy yourself." He passed on. "If he can't remember who I am," thought Robin, "it probably isn't him who wants something from me." Addressing the company in general The Great Man said, "I'll see you all at dinner this evening." He gave his well known hearty chuckle and went on, "Must leave you now, some affairs of state." He glanced at the barman and left. The barman said something to one of the girls and she made her way out of the room. Jemima remained behind briefly and came to Robin. "Robin darling, I want to have a talk with you, perhaps after dinner this evening; my study; you know where it is?" Robin had never been to her study but thought he vaguely remembered where it was so he nodded. Jemima smiled and left. He decided that the servants had been given sufficient time to search his luggage so he went back to his room to contemplate what might be afoot and eventually change for dinner. "Changing" did not mean what it usually meant in the orbit of The Great Man. One of the features of The Retreat was what passed for informality and relaxation. One appeared at dinner not in a formal dinner suit, but carefully tailored casual clothes. Most, including The Great One, opted for the cattleman image. Robin, ever the individualist, took on a look that was somewhere between a nineteenth century gold miner and a nineteen sixties street demonstrator. This sartorial deviation from the norm warranted careful consideration by the dark suits and those dark suits that were dressed like waiters. The meal was designed to look as if it had been prepared by a cattle mustering cook at the end of a hard days cattle drive, instead of highly paid chefs in kitchens that had every modern cooking device known to humanity, and some devices that weren't. The Great Man sat at one end of the long table and Jemima at the other. Apart from eating, the main purpose of the meal seemed to be to laugh at The Great Man's jokes and agree with his comments on the national and international situation, all the comments being carefully prepared by aides who had briefed him well in advance. Those seated at the greatest distance from The Great Man couldn't always hear his jokes and comments, but took their cue from those who could, their laughter and "Your right, sir," lagging a few seconds after those near The Great Man. Robin was seated near Jemima and therefore at a great distance from The Great Man. He frequently failed to respond on cue since a lot of the time he wasn't even trying to hear The Great Man's patter. Rather he focused on Jemima, wondering how she coped with this charade. He noted that The Great Man was flanked by two gorgeous young women and he wondered how Jemima felt about his endless womanising. Jemima paid no particular attention to Robin and most of the time addressed herself to a woman sitting beside her who looked as if she'd had several face lifts. The woman when she spoke hardly moved her mouth, and gave the impression that she was terrified that if she did open her mouth too wide or made any facial expression, the whole hugely expensive edifice would collapse. He recognised her as the wife of a prominent banker. He looked at Jemima carefully, trying to think of what she might want. To his surprise he realised he had not once been completely alone with Jemima since just before her marriage. Always there had been others clustered round her; alternatively one or more of the dark suits always seemed to be hovering close by. The company ploughed its way through several courses as The Great Man continued to regale them with his wit and insights. Robin was anxious to get the meal over so that he could have his private talk with Jemima but no one left the table until The Great Man had talked and eaten his fill. The end came at last; The Great Man rose and guffawing, announced that he had some papers to read and that he'd be working late into the night. There were a few murmurs of sympathy, and The Great Man, putting on his statesman's face, left them. Robin noted that a dark suit came over to the two attractive women who had been sitting with The Great Man, whispered to them, and they left the room. Jemima looked directly at Robin and mouthed, "Ten minutes." He nodded and she started to leave but stopped and spoke to a dark suit; she pointed in Robin's direction and left. The Great Man gone and now Jemima, the gathering began to break up into small groups. Some wandered out through the massive French windows into the flood lit garden, while others stood talking quietly. "More deals being made," Robin said to himself. Robin stood, waiting to see what would happen next. One of the attractive women came towards him walking with a seductive swaying motion, an enticing smile on her lips that did not reflect in her eyes. "All alone," she asked in a husky voice that was no doubt intended to seduce the one addressed. "How about coming for a walk in the garden and we can get to know each other." "One of The Great Man's little treats for his guests," Robin thought. He had received this sort of approach on previous visits, but there was a rumour among those in the know that these women were The Great Man's cast-offs and that some of them had ended up with something nasty; Robin had not yielded to temptation. He smiled at her and said, "Sorry, but I have some business to attend to shortly." She shrugged irritably and passed on to approach an elderly man who Robin recognised as a steel magnate. A dark suit came over to him and said, "If you will come with me, sir." Robin followed him out of the room and down a long corridor. They were approaching a wing that he had never visited before, and he began to realise that he hadn't known where Jemima's study was. The passage turned at right angles and they were confronted by a large white door blocking the way. A dark suit was sitting beside the door. He looked up and Robin's escort whispered something to him. The man glanced at a clipboard and Robin could see a photograph of himself clipped to it. The seated dark suit nodded, pressed a button and the door swung open. The passage stretched out in front of them and after walking a couple of dozen metres dark suit stopped and knocked on a door. A faint voice that Robin recognised as Jemima's called, "Come in." The dark suit opened the door and said, "Mr. Milton, ma'am." "Come in Robin," Jemima called. Robin entered; the dark suit left closing the door behind him. Jemima was stretched out on a large sofa, her kicked off shoes lying on the floor. Robin glanced round the room. Apart from the sofa there were two matching armchairs, a desk with a computer and two telephones on it and behind it a high backed swivel chair. One wall was lined with bookshelves, the contents of which were clearly more used than the official library and what looked like a drinks cabinet and a rather incongruously ancient metal filing cabinet stood against another wall. There were three doors, the one from the corridor and one that must have led to the rest of the suite, where the third led he couldn't guess. There were several paintings on the walls that Robin did not recognise. "I thought I knew where your study was," he said, "I've never been in this wing before." Jemima smiled and said, "The one you're thinking of is my official study. That's where I meet people like ambassador's wives and other official types. This is my private study and this wing is where the children and I live. I had thought I'd meet you in the official study, but changed my mind." She smiled and went on, "This is a very private meeting." Robin laughed and said, "I'm flattered." "So you should be, Robin Milton," Jemima said teasingly. "No one gets into this wing and especially this study, without my explicit invitation." "Not even your husband?" He joked. Jemima looked up at him sharply. "Come on Robin, you're not blind and you're not a fool. You've been close enough to the inner circle to know what goes on." She looked at him appraisingly for a moment, as if making up her mind whether to continue. When she did speak Robin felt a trifle shocked at her bluntness. "We've been friends for a long time and in the light of what I'm going to ask you shortly I'll be frank with you. I'm only for breeding and parading in public." She paused again for a moment then said, "I play the game, Robin; the devoted wife and mother of his children. It goes down wonderfully with the voters, especially the more sentimental ones. But you know damned well what he gets up to with women." "It's all hushed up but one of these days it's all going to come out. That will probably be after he loses an election or retires from office; unless one of the women blows the whistle before that. In the meantime his yes-men keep the lid on it because they know damned well when he's gone, they're gone too. For the rest, those who are in the know are the sort of people you saw tonight; they either want something from him or he's got something on them that they wouldn't like to be revealed." "I gave him the three children he thought obligatory; after that he hasn't been near me, and he'd be wasting his time if he tried." She gave a self-mocking laugh; "Do you know he never screws a woman more than three times, after that she's dead meat as far as he's concerned. I was one of the privileged ones; he actually lasted two weeks with me. In that time I got pregnant with our first child; after that he only came near me to procreate a couple more times." She sighed and stopped speaking. "Why do you stick it?" Robin asked. "That's what I often ask myself; family, the country, the public howls that would go up if I left him; or perhaps I just like being so close to the centre of power, but it wears a bit thin at times. Then there are children. You see, I'm not sure what he would do about them if I left. It would suit him to keep them; the devoted father caring for his children when the evil mother had deserted them. Who would believe me over against mister energetic, smiling, hearty hand shaker with a cheerful word for everybody? No, I wouldn't stand much chance against all the legal muscle he can muster." "I'm sorry, Jemima," Robin said. "I didn't ask you here to pour out my woes; I've never spoken to anyone else like that, but it only confirms for me that I've made the right choice." "Choice?" "Yes; I asked you here on the basis of our old friendship. I've got something to ask you." "Here it comes," thought Robin, "now I find out what she wants." "You know, Robin, I'm so often surrounded by people. Even when I'm not at some official function and I'm supposed to be relaxing, perhaps at the beach, going for a walk, horse riding, I've always got my shadows with me." "Shadows?" She laughed, "Yes, you've seen them; the agents who are supposed to protect me. Everywhere I go whatever I'm doing, there they are. This wing of the building is one of the few places where I and the children can have some privacy. You saw the door in the corridor; you wouldn't have got past that without my making a special arrangement." The Great Man's Wife "You know, it's a wonder that I can actually go to the toilet and have a bath or a shower on my own without one of the shadows being there. But in this wing I can keep them at bay…keep them beyond that door in the corridor. If I want to be sure I can lock myself in here." She picked up a remote control and pressed one of the buttons; there was a faint whirr and a click. "There, I've locked us in. Oh, don't worry, I'll let you out again." "Now, I understand you've graduated and are working with your father?" "Yes, I'm supposed to be taking over the family empire one day, so I'm in training." "Do you like what you do?" "No, and when I've summoned up my courage I shall probably tell my father so, and then be disinherited." "Your father has been angling for an ambassadorship for some time, hasn't he?" "Dad wants to make his mark in the diplomatic field before he dies. You are well informed." "In this instance, yes. Would you consider leaving your present work very soon?" "Leave it for what?" Jemima looked at him intently. "To become my private personal aide." Robin was taken aback; of all the things she might have asked of him, this would have ranked near the bottom if it ranked anywhere at all. "Your aide? But surely you've got…I mean, I've seen some of your assistants." "Yes, my official ones. What I want from you is something different." "How different?" "I want someone with whom I can talk…talk as I have tonight, about personal things; someone to share thoughts with that I can be sure won't be related elsewhere." "What you need is a friend, Jemima, not an aide. Surely you must have lots of friends." "Oh yes, I've got lots of friends; the only trouble is that in this game you're never sure who is on the make and who isn't. I'm asking you on the basis of our old friendship. You've been invited here and at The Lodge several times. I've watched you, and not once have you asked for anything. You haven't asked either me or my husband to use our influence or power to get something you wanted." "I suppose that's because there isn't anything I have wanted." He grinned, "In any case your husband hardly knows me, as you saw he couldn't remember my name this evening." Jemima laughed; "Yes, he can't remember your name because he's never thought of anything he wants from you, and the fact that you've always been my guest and not his." "And I've been your guest so that you could vet me?" "Yes, if you want to put it like that. I wanted to know if my memory of you still stood up; that you were still the open, honest boy I used to know; the boy who was always kicking against the system. Of course, what I'm offering doesn't take you out of the system; it only puts you into another aspect of it." "Frankly, Jemima, it all looks and sounds suffocating, even more suffocating than the system I'm in now." "Yes, and I'm in it all the time. I called the job an aide, but what I really want might be better described as a confidante. It will pay well." "I'm not concerned with the pay at the moment, Jemima. What you seem to be asking is if our friendship of the past still holds." "Yes." Robin chuckled and said, "Did you ever realise I once thought I was in love with you. I even thought of asking you to marry me?" "Why didn't you ask me?" He shrugged, "I was too young at the time; I was immersed in my studies, and by the time I was in a position to ask you, you were already married to The Grea…your husband." "It's all right, Robin," Jemima chuckled, "I know what people call him, 'The Great Man'." "Jemima, even if I did accept your offer I couldn't just walk into the job; there'd have to be some investigating to be done, wouldn't there?" "Oh yes, they'd have to know all about you, but don't worry, it's already been done." "What! That's rather taking things for granted , isn't it?" "No, not really; some of the investigating was to do with you're being invited here and to The Lodge; after that there was little more to do." "My father would create hell if I…" "You did say you were going to tell your father you didn't want to continue with him." "Yes but…" "There's a rather important ambassadorship coming up shortly, do you think that might soften his heart?" "If anything could that would," grinned Robin. "Well, have I persuaded you?" "Not really, Jemima, I mean, all the job seems to entail is being a friend. I can be a friend without being officially appointed." "That's true, but if you were my personal aide you'd be around a lot more and there wouldn't be a need to constantly be issuing invitations and getting clearances." Jemima chuckled and went on, "You can keep an eye on me when I'm being cornered by some of the bores I have to put up with, and then you can come and tell me there's an important telephone call for me. There are lots of charities and organizations that I have to keep in touch with; you could take some of the pressure off me." "By the way, you'll have your own suite of rooms in this wing – a study, bedroom and sitting room, but if you want to have guests visiting it means getting a clearance for them. You'll also have your own rooms at The Lodge." "But look here, Jemima, having me living in the same wing as you, more or less shut away behind that door in the corridor, wouldn't that arouse suspicion?" I mean, being almost alone with you…a very attractive…wouldn't you be better off with a female aide?" "Not alone, the children are in this wing as well." "But your husband?" Very slowly and deliberately Jemima said, "My husband doesn't care what I do, just so long as it doesn't become public and spoil the domestic image. I could have ten lovers in here every night so long as they had clearance, and it wouldn't make any difference to him." "And do you?" "Do I what?" "Have ten lovers in here every night?" Jemima laughed and said, "No, it would too much of a bother getting the clearances done. Don't worry Robin, I'm not a nymphomaniac. Will you take the job?" "Had you considered," asked Robin, "that if I take this job, become your employee, our relationship might change? I can still be your friend without being an employee – more of a friend because you've opened up so much to me. After all, every time I've been your guest, we've had very little to do with each other. We could talk more in future, like we are now." "Yes, I suppose I've always had to do the circulating bit and we've hardly had time to talk intimately, and you're right of course, as my employee our relationship might change. That's a risk I'm prepared to take, are you?" "Well, I suppose that if we got on each others nerves, or I proved totally incompetent, you could fire me or I could leave." "It sounds as if you're warming to the idea, Robin; are you?" He sat thinking for a moment. He knew that one day he would break with his father's business empire and this might be the opportune moment. If the ambassadorship was dangled before his father in the right way he could make the break with the minimum of upheaval. "All right, Jemima, let's give each other a try." "Good, and by the way, if you wanted to have a guest stay with you overnight I could get her clearance just so long as you gave me reasonable notice. I know you're not a celibate." "My God," thought Robin, "so they know about that too." "You've been very thorough," he said. "Not me, my dear, I really didn't want to know about your private life to that extent, but when they vet someone it's just about every aspect of their life they investigate." Robin wondered for a moment what his current sex partner would think of their relationship being known. She was the forty five year old widow of an oil baron who had died in a Paris brothel while being whipped. She had come into his life via the network of the business world. She combined the pleasant aspects of being reasonably attractive and rather motherly. It was no overwhelming love affair, but an affectionate relationship that neither of them expected to turn into a lifetime commitment. Robin decided he would keep that relationship away from the environment he was about to enter. He shook his head and said, "I take it I can have some part of my life away from my work?" "Of course," replied Jemima, "I just thought I'd mention it. So, as it seems that you're accepting my offer I can get your final clearance through fairly quickly. You'll get a pass that will get you into the main area and into this wing any time. Would you like to see your suite?" "Yes please." Jemima picked up the remote control and pressed the button again; a whirr and a click and the door was unlocked. Without bothering to put on her shoes Jemima led the way farther along the corridor. She stopped at a door and opening it went in. Robin followed to find himself in an office. Like everything else in The Retreat it was large, and was fully equipped for the work to be carried out in it, with desk, computer, swivel chair and two telephones. A new filing cabinet stood against one wall and a bookcase that was empty apart from a few large official looking volumes. There were three doors, one through which they had just come and Jemima pointed out that one entered her own suite, and the other led to the rest of Robin's suite. Jemima, indicating a red telephone said, "That connects to one of the telephones on my desk. It has no outside line nor does it connect to any other part of the house, it's only for our use." The next room was obviously a living room, with two deep armchairs and an equally deep sofa. A television set stood against one wall and a drinks cabinet against another. Beyond this room came the bedroom. At home Robin had the luxury of a large bed, his present room in The Retreat was also provided with a large bed, but this one was truly gigantic. "I'll need a map to find my way out of that bed in the mornings," he quipped, "you could sleep six comfortably in it." Jemima smiled wickedly; "Perhaps you'll change your mind about me getting a clearance for an overnight guest. It's what I call, a 'royal bed', mine is much the same. Walk-in-wardrobes, dressing table, chest of drawers and a bedside table, all of substantial construction were inspected. "Where do I eat?" asked Robin. "Ah yes, we have a dining room that we all use, the children and the two nursemaids – by the way, be careful of those two, I didn't choose them and I think they might be part of the "protection" set-up. They're nice enough and marvellous with the children, but just be careful what you say in front of them because it all might end up in an official report." "I was wondering, Jemima, those bloody surveillance cameras are all over the place, are they…" Jemima laughed, "Yes, they are rather ubiquitous aren't they. But I think you can be sure there are none in this wing. I was rather insistent on that when we moved in here." They went back to the study and Jemima opened the second door. It led straight into Jemima's study. "Well, what do you say?" Jemima asked. "I'll give it a try." "Wonderful, when can you start?" "I should think within a month, I'd have some clearing up to do, but if dad knew about the ambassadorship, and it could be hinted that it was related to my taking the job with you, then maybe less than a month." Robin never did find out how the matter was put to his father, but he was amazed that his father, far from making a fuss about him taking the job with Jemima, actively encouraged him to do so. Thus in less than a month Robin was ensconced, not in The Retreat, but in The Lodge, since The Great Man had moved back there. The set-up was much the same at The Lodge except the security seemed even tighter. Dark suits and uniformed men toting sub-machine guns seemed to be everywhere. Robin learned for the first time that the Office in which The Great Man read, signed, held audience, coaxed and cajoled, had a bedroom that led straight off from it. Jemima and the children had their own quarters in which Robin lived. One part of his work consisted of maintaining Jemima's personal - one might almost say secret - records. These seemed largely focused on her life as The Great Man's wife. He suspected that one day they would appear either in book form or be released to some newspaper syndicate. Other tasks included standing or sitting around at social functions until Jemima signalled she was in need of rescue. They arranged that when she touched her left ear with her hand he would step in with the "important telephone call." He had always through his family been close to the seat of power, but he had never before experienced the claustrophobic atmosphere of life at the top so intensely. Another part of The Great Man's image promoted by his aides through the media was, "The man of the common people," or "The leader with the common touch." This was no truer than the happy family image. His life was surrounded by those employed to feed him what others wanted him to know, and keep him away from certain life realities they thought it wiser for him not to know. Often Robin felt he wanted to throw in the job and get out of the suffocating atmosphere, but the closeness he had to Jemima, and increasingly the children, made him hesitate to desert her. As she had pointed out, she was a lonely figure surrounded by people, and never sure who was on the make. The one place where she could almost get away from the endless round of game playing was The Farm. It had been a long time since it had been a working farm and now served as a small private estate. It was owned by Jemima, but even here there were dark suits, and the nursemaids who Robin humorously pictured as carrying small automatics tucked into the top of their stockings. Nevertheless it was at The Farm where Jemima became more like the girl Robin had known in earlier days. Here he found that his duties included going horse riding with her, always of course with a dark suit following at a distance. They played tennis together, played with the children and went swimming in the river that ran though the property. He discovered that Jemima and the children had a penchant for Scabble, and many evenings were spent playing. The friendship that seemed to have been put on hold after Jemima had got married, far from being marred by his being her employee, began to revive and flourish. In fact the friendship revived to the point where it began to be uncomfortable for Robin. He was still young and susceptible and once at The Farm his access to the widow and sexual gratification was strictly limited. Being almost constantly in Jemima's company, far from familiarity breeding contempt, he became increasing aware of her attractions. Swimming in the river did nothing to quell a growing sexual awareness of her. The three children had left their marks on her; a slightly protuberant abdomen, and some marks at the tops of her thighs, but for Robin these seemed to enhance rather than detract from her desirability. In short, Robin began to feel himself to be in love with her again. Jemima didn't make it easy for him because in the more relaxed atmosphere of The Farm, she was freer in her manner of dressing, and during the evening games of scrabble would often appear clad only in a negligee. Jemima had said that The Great Man did not care what she did as long as it never became public knowledge and she played the loyal wife game. But Robin knew he could never approach Jemima in the sexual sense. He half humorously contemplated what had happened to the lovers of long ago Great Ones wives; the extremely painful deaths they had been subjected to if they were discovered. If anything ever did happen between Jemima and him and it was discovered, he didn't expect to be hung, drawn and quartered, but life could be made extremely difficult for him. He wondered at times if it would have been better if a woman had fulfilled the role Jemima had cast him in, since almost any potent man would probably end up in love with her. But Jemima had selected him and not a woman; his alternative was to leave the job, and this became increasing difficult to contemplate as his love for her developed and his sympathy for her in her situation grew. There would have been many women who would not only have coped with Jemima's role, but even enjoyed it – women cast in a tougher mould than Jemima. Many people looking in from the outside, and who did not really know what went on, would think her life to be idyllic, but Robin who did know the truth could see how things were taking a heavy toll of her. I shall not put forward the "Poor little rich girl" view, but point out that it had been Jemima's misfortune to be born into an aristocracy of privilege with it's vaunting ambitions and willingness to go to any lengths to fulfil them. She had been a pawn in the great power game and was saddled with a man who had probably never loved her, and now she certainly didn't love him. So Robin continued in her employ, feeling ever more frustrated and impotent as his love and desire for her grew. Some might be capable of a lifetime's hidden love and devotion, but that was not Robin. At some point something was going to give way; he thought he would either speak about his feelings or he would flee from her, yet he did neither. Their times at The Farm were usually brief, perhaps not more than a week, and on their return to The Lodge Robin was able to join his widow and at least relieve one part of the tension his absence from her and his closeness to Jemima had built up in him. His physical proximity to Jemima had increased steadily since she seemed to find more and more reasons why she needed him near her. Any other employee might have felt that he or she was being exploited ruthlessly, especially as Robin began to feel he was really no more than a sort of court jester to her and his tasks those that anyone might have carried out. Yet the pleasure and the pain he felt in her company continued to hold him to her. Even when Jemima had to accompany The Great Man on state visits to other countries Robin had to go along. It amused him to note that The Great Man seemed hardly aware of his presence, or perhaps it was that he chose not to notice him. Much of the time seemed to be taken up with posed pictures of The Great Man shaking hands with his opposite number in the country being visited; conferences at which, the media announced, decisions of great international importance had been taken, and of which no one ever heard again; and the family pictures in which The Great Man with the wife of foreign leader at his side, and Jemima at the foreign leader's side, thus demonstrating what harmony there was between them all. It was after one of these appallingly tedious visits, and as the Christmas season approached – which season was considered to be politically dead – that Robin asked for leave. He had served with Jemima for nearly two years and had taken no leave. He had also decided that after his leave he would offer his resignation to Jemima. When he approached Jemima on the matter she was adamant. They would be going to The Farm for a fortnight, after that he could take leave if he wished. It made little difference to Robin exactly when he took leave, but he did not relish being away from his comfort lady for so long. During the time he had worked for Jemima he had tried to understand her in relation to himself. He wondered if his growing love and desire for her was known to her, and if it was in any way reciprocated. In public she was slightly remote, and this was to be expected. What puzzled him was, that at The Farm and in her private quarters at The Lodge and The Retreat, she could be very intimate, sharing some of her innermost thoughts with him, and then in an instant seem to switch off and adopt that slight remoteness she exhibited in public. The Great Man's Wife It was in the middle of their first week at The Farm, one evening after the children had gone off to bed, that he and Jemima sat chatting for a while. It had been a pleasant evening and Jemima had been in one of her more informal moods. A few minutes into their tête-à-tête, and despite the intimacy of the moment, that she asked a question that when it came was totally unexpected by Robin. "Robin, you said that you loved me once." "Yes, when I was a teenager." "Do you still love me?" Robin swallowed hard; for a moment he was lost for an answer, but he began to stammer, "I-I-I've tried t-t-to s-serve you loyally." "I know, Robin, but that isn't what I asked, and I didn't ask my question lightly; at this moment it's important for me to know." Robin steadied himself but still tried to delay answering. "Why is it important for you to know at this particular moment?" "Because I think you'll leave me soon. I knew from the start that this job wouldn't hold you for ever." "Why did you offer it to me then?" "I gave you some of the reasons right at the start, but mostly I wanted to have you near me…I wanted to know." Anger began to rise up in Robin; "So it's been another period of vetting, has it?" "Don't be angry, Robin; you know better than anyone my position, what I have to cope with; how careful I have to be; the eyes that are always watching; the ears that are always listening. Now I want to know…need to know, what your feelings for me are." "All right, Jemima, you're right, I shall be leaving you soon, and quite apart from the superficial nature of the job, it is precisely my feelings for you that have made me decide it's time to go. Since you've asked, yes, I do love you, and it can be hell at times being with you; trying not to show what I feel; being constantly so close to you I could touch you, but knowing how impossible the situation would be for both of us if I did." Jemima looked at him for a long time, her eyes searching his face, as if trying to discover there the truth of his words. Then very calmly she said, "Then my dear, I must tell you it's not impossible. There have been many times when you have been the only sane thing in this insane world of political gamesmanship; the only sincere and clean person I could turn to; you must know that." "Ever since I got pregnant with my last baby I've been a…a…political nun…as if I was sexless; a doll to be paraded when required. But I'm not a doll, I'm a woman, Robin, I need love and…all right, I need sexual love…not just sex, but sexual love. Will you…can you give that to me?" "In any other circumstances I'd…" "I'm not asking about any other circumstances, I'm asking about now. Can you take me to bed…make me feel human again…make me feel loved and desirable?" "But the risk, not just to me, but you as well, if we were found out…" "Oh yes, there are plenty of people who would like to get the dirt on me, but why do you think I've set up this elaborate arrangement with you, had you living in my private quarters? It was precisely so we could arrive at this moment…this discussion. I've been devious, but then, I had to be." She laughed cynically and went on, "I suppose that makes me no different from the rest of them, but at least I did it for the sake of love. I don't think I can find the words to tell you how wonderful it's been having you near me; someone I could trust; someone I could be open with." "Sometimes my dear, during those official functions, or when we've been posing for those wretched photographs and television pictures, I glance across at you and think, "There's something good and clean in my life, something real." Robin had never seen Jemima cry, but now the tears came and he was near tears himself. Never a big woman, she looked even smaller now as she huddled in the large armchair; a woman publicly feted and paraded, and privately wretched and humiliated. He went to her; put his arms round her, holding her close. "Make me a whole woman again, Robin," she whispered, extending her arms to him. He picked her up and carried her into her bedroom. He undressed her and as he took off her bras she smiled sadly and said, "After breast feeding three children they're not as firm as they once were, my love." He wasn't sure why, but he was a little surprised that she had breast fed her children, and looking at her small breasts he thought they looked little the worse for having performed their natural function. He returned her smile and said, "I think I shall enjoy them." Later, after their foreplay, and as he was penetrating her, she murmured, "It's been a long engagement my darling, but tonight is my wedding night." "And mine," Robin responded as he thrust deep into her. Their sexual liaison begun, one of the first complications that arose for Robin was the widow. He had to break off the relationship with her, but how to do it? She had been generous with her body and he had no wish to hurt her, so what could he say? "Oh by the way, I'm fucking The Great Man's wife, so we'll have to end our relationship?" "Hardly," he thought grimly. Even if he decided to be unfaithful to Jemima he was no sexual athlete and Jemima, released from the bondage of celibacy, was proving to be quite demanding of his sexual energy. In any case he had no desire to be unfaithful since he quickly found himself firmly wedded to Jemima. He decided to be as frank as possible with the widow. He spoke to her of the pleasure he had experienced with her, but explained that someone else had come into his life. The widow was sad but not surprised. "I knew it would happen one day," she said, "You're young and you need someone young. That's how it should be; besides, I don't think I'll be deprived for long. It's been lovely, Robin, but no regrets." It had gone better than he thought it would and it was not without a pang of regret he parted from her. Over the past couple of years Robin had worked for Jemima they had often been alone together, but now that the sexual dimension had entered into the relationship a sense of subterfuge entered as well. They had to be careful in public not to show signs of the mounting passion between them. This passion, rather than being dampened by their frequent copulating, seemed to grow with each new union. In Jemima's private quarters they felt safe from the prying eyes of the dark suits, but the nannies were another matter. They had never come knocking at Jemima's door once the children had gone to bed, but it was not impossible that one night they might. One of the children sick or hurt might cause them to raise Jemima. The door to the corridor was always locked, but too long a delay in answering it might arouse suspicion. In reality the nurses need never know who was in Jemima's bed, but it was the sense of insecurity and perhaps guilty conscience that made Jemima and Robin more sensitive to the situation than objectively they needed to be. Another complication was that servants came in during the morning to clean the place and make beds. If Robin's bed was consistently not slept in this might arouse suspicion. Thus Jemima and Robin never had a whole night together. Robin would leave her bed in the early hours, and using the communicating door he would spend the last two or three hours in his own bed. The children too had to be kept unaware of their mother's sexual activities. They were of an age to notice things and might say something to one of the nursemaids that would set things rolling. This situation prevailed for almost two years. Another election was looming and although the national economy was starting to falter, and there were rumbling discontents with The Great Man's handling of international affairs, the indications were that he would win a third term by a narrow margin. Just prior to the start of the election campaign The Great Man, together with his advisors, Jemima, the children and of course Robin, went to The Retreat to plan the election strategy. There were more pictures than ever of The Great Man playing with his children; horse riding with Jemima; family picnics on the lawn and sprawling at her side beside the river. It was all the usual ballyhoo serving as a run up to the main event. A few days into their stay at The Retreat Robin and Jemima had just finished copulating, and were lying in each other's arms. Suddenly there was a mighty explosion. The building rocked and for almost a minute there was a sound of things crashing down. This was followed a few moments utter silence; then the screaming and shouting began. A klaxon began to shriek. Robin said, "Let's get the children and get out of here." They grabbed dressing gowns and pulled them on as they raced out into the corridor. The children with their white faced nurses were already there, making for the door that blocked the corridor. The door was open and the dark suit yelled, "Get out of here fast." They raced along the corridor and they could already smell smoke. They got to the stairs to see a crowd of people below, all racing for the main exit. When they got to the bottom of the stairs several dark suits came running over to them and surrounding them began to hustle them out. "The whole West Wing has gone, ma'am," one of the dark suits gasped; "a bomb we reckon." The West Wing was the one where The Great Man had his bedroom and other quarters. Outside they were moved well away from the house, and looking at it they could see the truth of the dark suit's words. The whole West Wing was a heap of rubble and a fire had started in the rest of the building. "My husband," Jemima cried out. "Don't know, ma'am, but I don't think anyone could have survived that mess." The fire sprinklers installed in the house failed to operate because the water main had been ruptured and the emergency water tank had been on top of the West Wing. Some people were trying to run a small pump with some lengths of hose down to the river. They actually got it going but the single stream of water was useless. Fire appliances from the nearby town were slow in arriving because all the means of communication had been destroyed in the blast and the radio room was already an inferno. It was only when a small hand radio was produced that the alarm was given. The appliances were further delayed at the perimeter gate since no one had thought to tell the guards what was happening. At the sound of the blast, and in the absence of orders, they had sealed the perimeter off, and held up the appliances until someone thought to radio the true situation to them. By the time the appliances did arrive the Central building and the East Wing of the house was well ablaze. Ambulances began to arrive, then police and more fire appliances. They stood watching for some time but they could see that all the efforts were useless. The place was an inferno, the roof of the Central building and the East Wing had collapsed and walls began to cave in. A dark suit approached them and said, "There's nothing you can do now, ma'am; its best we get you out." Jemima nodded bleakly and shortly four limousines pulled up near them. Jemima and the children got into one, Robin and the nursemaids into another. The other two were occupied by several dark suits, one going ahead and one behind. A police car came and stationed itself at the head of this little column and with its siren wailing they set off. After about ten minutes they came to a town and pulled up outside a hotel. The police were already there outside and in the foyer. The dark suits leapt out of their vehicles and joined the police. They were taken into the hotel foyer to be met by an obsequious manager, clearly overwhelmed by the status of the guest he was to entertain. He kept muttering, "Terrible, ma'am, terrible." The rest of the night passed in a blur. Jemima seemed to have regained some degree of composure and was giving orders that the children were to stay with her that night. The children were stunned, silent and shivering, their nursemaids, white faced and clearly unable to perform their normal functions with the children. People were coming and going; drinks were being offered and although Robin was given a room of his own he ended up trying to help Jemima reassure the children and get them off to sleep, a nigh impossible task because the children kept asking, "Will there be another big bang, mummy?" In the early hours they finally dropped off and then Jemima, exhausted and utterly bewildered, fell asleep in an armchair. Robin did not sleep at all. In the morning clothes appeared; their own clothes that had been flown in from The Lodge. Jemima demanded to know what was happening and when a dark suit, apparently the one in charge, hesitated to reply, she grew insistent. Finally he said, "Well, ma'am, they haven't been able to start searching the rubble yet, but so far we've counted two dead and six badly injured from the central section, and you all got out of the East Wing okay, but we reckon that once they start sifting through the remains of the West Wing there'll be another fifteen to twenty dead. I don't think we'll find anyone alive." "But what happened, how did it happen?" "We won't know for certain, ma'am, until the experts take a look, but as far as we can tell a bomb exploded in the wing." Jemima, unaccountably calm, asked no one in particular, "A bomb, how could a bomb be brought into the area with all that security?" "The dark suit looked abashed, but did not reply." That morning the media screamed its headlines, "Horrific Scenes;" "Nation Aghast;" "National Disaster;" "Nation Prays." When later that day the naked body of The Great Man was pulled from the rubble, the searchers also found the body of a naked girl nearby. This fact was passed over by the media as it lamented, "Nation Mourns Great Leader." Another twenty two bodies were drawn from the debris over the next three days, some of them were the close aides and advisors to The Great Man, four of them were young women of no known positions on The Great Man's staff. These too somehow got overlooked by the media. Experts confirmed that it had been a bomb, and investigations were begun seeking for the perpetrator, and trying to work out how a bomb could have been smuggled into the place. The investigations never did find the perpetrator; several special enquiries over the following years also drew a blank. The question that arises in this regard is whether the investigators and enquirers investigated and enquired into the right people? If not, why not? Perhaps the right people were not known, but a more cynical view might be that the right people to ask were those it was not politic to ask. All those who survived that dreadful night were thoroughly interrogated, including Robin, but excluding Jemima. Some might think this an odd oversight, but then again, perhaps not. Those who questioned Robin managed to slip into their questioning that the nursemaids had noticed that as he and Jemima rushed out into the corridor from Jemima's suite they were wearing dressing gowns, and that it was obvious they were naked underneath those garments. Nothing was built upon this, but it was if to say, "We know." Jemima, the children, Robin and the nursemaids, returned to The Lodge. There they remained until after the state funeral was held. The media splashed pictures of Jemima dressed in black, with captions saying things like, "Grieving widow says life will never be the same again." What Jemima had actually said as a passing comment was, "My life will take on a new direction." After the funeral Jemima moved to her own property, The Farm. She went minus dark suits and the nursemaids as she declared she would take charge of her children in future. She was also minus Robin. He returned for a while to work in his father's empire. By then his father was of course abroad as an ambassador, and Robin's brother had stepped into the place which he had vacated when he went into Jemima's employ. Robin was much relieved by this since he had no intention of remaining within that empire. The elections were held and the new Great Man took office. Robin and Jemima spoke to each other on the telephone, wrote letters and exchanged emails, but had no physical meetings. One day eighteen months after the explosion Robin drove up to The Farm. There were no guards and no dark suits. Jemima stepped from the front porch, went to Robin and they embraced and kissed. "Darling," Jemima said, "I've made all the arrangements with the local Church, one month from today. Come in and say hello to the children."