Autumn

Erin met autumn with a frenzy of scrubbing and cleaning. She felt dimly that somehow restoring her abode to a pristine state would wash away her on-going preoccupation with Nancy. It was clear that this could go nowhere. Nancy had said, or implied, that she was going to work on her marriage, and Erin knew that if she were around, this would only hinder Nancy’s attempts. Besides, Erin persuaded herself, it was just one of those flings that she occasionally had. No strings, no emotional entanglement. Nothing. Never mind that Nancy had brought out a playful side that Erin had not previously known she’d had. She’d been stupid to open up to Nancy – she had obviously been lulled into letting down her guard by the peace of Sunset Valley. So she told herself as she meticulously cleaned her house, taking perverse pleasure in the grottiest jobs – jobs she normally assigned as punishments to green recruits.
Nancy had similarly dedicated herself to domesticity. Geoffrey had been upset, because her ‘gallivanting’ as he called it, had led to her neglecting her menfolk. Malcom, at least, seemed singularly unfussed – he was such a self-possessed little boy. She sighed as she thought of how he’d spend all his spare time reading – reading books that Nancy felt were far too old for him, sitting in his father’s study. It had once been Nancy’s study, before Malcolm was born, and had been filled with her papers and computer – but when she’d fallen pregnant with Malcom, Geoffrey had lovingly insisted that she give up her job: “It’s too much darling, I see pregnant women come in all the time, burned out from stress before they’ve even given birth. Trust me darling, I want only the best for you and the baby.” He’d been opposed to the idea of her returning to work after Malcolm was born, but by the time Malcolm was old enough for pre-school, Geoffrey had started making remarks about the boy being ‘tied to her apron-strings.’ Secretly, she thought he was jealous of their close bond, but she knew better than to voice that notion, instead taking it as an opportunity to persuade Geoffrey that it was a good idea for her to go back to work. She’d missed Malcolm more than she’d thought possible when she did go back, but there had never been any doubt in her mind that she’d made the right decision. Leaving the house, being listened to, having her ideas taken seriously; heck, just talking to other adults had been an enjoyable novelty. And she was good at her job. She was Vice-President of the company, no small achievement. And she was sure that Geoffrey was proud of her. He wouldn’t say it directly to her, but she knew that he spoke of her approvingly to his friends and colleagues as “my wife, the Vice President of Doo Peas”. She smiled at the thought, and it didn’t occur to her to mind that she never did get her study back.

She was cooking his favourite dish for dinner. She felt unbelievably guilty about… that thing that happened with Erin. Unforgiveable. Of course Geoffrey could be a little possessive at times, but it was just because he loved her so much – and really, given her behaviour with Erin, didn’t he have the right to be possessive? She heard his steps at the door. She hoped he would be pleased with the dinner she had made. He’d left that morning in a bit of a grump with her – she’d left some clothes on the floor instead of in the hamper, which of course wasn’t a big deal, but Geoffrey did like things to be just so.
Geoffrey looked round the kitchen door, his handsome head radiating approval and satisfaction at the sight that greeted him. Nancy looked up and smiled sweetly at him, and he felt his heart swell with pride. She was, in many ways, a very good wife, he thought – attractive, hard-working, and, now she’d finally broken this habit of swanning off by herself for ‘coffee’, or whatever it was females did (he had been sure she was shopping, but regular checks of her account showed no untoward expenses), properly dedicated to her family. She just needed a little guidance, that’s all, and he was proud to be the man to do it.

“I brought you some flowers, dearest,” said Geoffrey proudly, flourishing the red roses. “They were very expensive, but you’re worth absolutely every penny.”
"Oh Geoffrey, how sweet of you!" Nancy exclaimed. What a dear man, to bring her flowers after their little altercation that morning. "I'm cooking your favourite for dinner - steak with hollandaise sauce. It should be ready in about half an hour."
Geoffrey laughed. "Hollandaise sauce, my dear? It's bearnaise sauce with steak, Nancy. You should know that."
Nancy smiled uneasily. "Well, I didn't have any tarragon, so I'm afraid it'll have to be hollandaise. Unless I... I could add capers, to give it some flavour."
Geoffrey frowned. "My dear, you can't do that. Why did you tell me you were making my favourite dinner, when you couldn't even be bothered to get the right ingredients? It's almost like you're trying to disappoint me. I would have thought you'd make a bit of effort after your appalling behaviour this morning."
Nancy shifted uneasily. Her memory of it was that he had woken up in a foul mood, and shouted at her to clean the bathroom, as it was in no fit state for him to wash in. She'd cleaned it, but it had made her late for work.

"You left wet towels and clothes all over the place, and now you're pretending to make up for it by cooking
hollandaise sauce?" The level of disdain in his voice was an unfair slur on the wholly innocent sauce. "Why can't you for once... just once, make an effort? Or is it that you're too stupid to know the difference?"
"Geoffrey, please." Nancy hated the pleading tone in her voice. "I'm so sorry, I can go out and get some herbs, but it'll mean that dinner will be late."
"Oh, and now you want to leave, and make dinner late? Nancy, I can't help but believe that you're doing this deliberately. It's completely unacceptable." He took a step towards her, and Nancy felt her heart jump.

"I mean," he continued, his voice dripping with sarcasm, "it's not too much to ask for a tidy house, and dinner at a reasonable hour, is it?
Is it?" These last two words were a shout. He grabbed her arm, and for one horrific moment, Nancy thought he meant to bite it.

Instead, he held it a moment, then kissed it softly. "I shall go and read in the yellow room now. Did you say half an hour? No need for tarragon. Why don't you add some capers, that will give a vague approximation of the flavour." He sauntered out of the room as if nothing had happened. Nancy let out her breath, and was surprised to hear herself whimper.

****
Erin looked around her garden critically. The house was now cleaner than it had been when she moved in. The taps were shiny, her boots were polished, and she had bounced a coin on her bed. She had almost managed to put the thought of Nancy out of her mind. But while she'd been busy, leaves had been busy falling on the ground. She sighed. Apparently she wasn't quite finished. She got out her rake, and started methodically scraping the leaves into a pile. Twink watched her with apparent astonishment.

It was not working. The leaves kept falling, and Nancy sodding Landgraab kept nibbling at the edge of her consciousness. She wasn't sure why, but something... perhaps something Nancy had said, had left her feeling uneasy. Now the initial upset had died down, she was more conscious than ever of this feeling of unease.
She sighed irritably, and kicked the pile of leaves.

She had to stop this. Nancy Landgraab was an adult, and had made her position perfectly clear. They were two grown women who gave in to temptation, and both of them had known that it could go no further. It was not the first passing encounter she'd had, and it probably wouldn't be the last, so how had Nancy got under her skin? She looked at the pile of leaves. It had felt good to kick it. She wasn't used to spontaneous expressions of emotion. In fact, she didn't think she'd done anything like that before she met Nancy. Nancy again. Perhaps she just needed to let off some steam, and Nancy had given her that space. Perhaps - perhaps she could let herself go a little more. Just a little. Maybe that's why she was feeling this way. If she loosened up slightly, perhaps she could move on past... well, past.
She kicked the leaves again. It did feel good. Experimentally, she threw a handful of them in the air. And another. Suddenly reaching some internal decision, she grabbed a large armful, and scattered them to the wind. Twink smirked.

"I don't know what you're laughing about, cat," she reproved him. "I don't comment when you lick your tail."
She jumped feet first into the pile of leaves, and laughed, a sudden bright laugh. The seasons were changing, and she was changing with them.

*****

Nancy was waiting. Geoffrey had promised to pick Malcom up from school and bring him to the Autumn Harvest Festival. He had said that they needed a family day out, and she thought that with all the tension that had been floating around, he was probably right. It was pouring with rain, and she was getting utterly soaked, but there were plenty of things that she could see Malcolm would love, and they could still have fun together. But Geoffrey was half an hour late, and she was beginning to worry. Surely he would have told her if there was anything wrong with Malcolm? Just as she was beginning to get concerned, Geoffrey strode up with a big smile on his face.
"Geoffrey! Where's Malcolm? I thought you were picking him up from school?"
Geoffrey's smile vanished. "I've sent him home, he shouldn't be out in this weather. Frankly, I'm surprised you'd suggest it. Still, we can still enjoy ourselves? No crying over a little light rain, eh? Now, how's about that apple bobbing trough over there?"
Nancy's heart sank. She was already soaking wet, and the apples bobbing unenticingly in the murky water did not appeal. She dutifully trotted after Geoffrey as he marched inexorably towards the trough.
"Capital fun, eh, Nance?" Geoffrey seemed in a high humour.

"Well go on then, no point shilly-shallying about," he chuckled. "Get your head in there."
"I... I would really rather... I just had my hair done this morning, and I don't want to ruin it," Nancy stammered. Geoffrey frowned, and her heart sank. Please don't let him kick off here, she thought. Please, I couldn't bear to be humiliated like that.
Instead, unexpectedly, he wiped a tear from his eye. "Nancy, please... I know we've been having our problems recently, but I really want things to be good between us. I... I love you Nancy. I just wanted to do something fun, but it seems I can't even do that right. I do try and make you happy dearest, you know that, don't you?"

His words were like a net, and she floundered. "Oh Geoffrey, I do want to spend time with you, and have fun. I would love for us to be happy and carefree again. You're my husband, and I love you." Geoffrey sniffed. "Come on then, let's get ourselves some apples."
His face happy again, she plunged her head into the cold water. She got nothing with her first bite, and came up gasping. Geoffrey had not ducked his head, and was looking at his watch. "Actually dearest, I've got a medical seminar this afternoon. Normally I'd say hang it, and spend the time with you, but there's this extremely eminent surgeon coming from Bridgeport to discuss the latest plastic surgery techniques, and it's absolutely ground-breaking stuff. Can you forgive me if I leave you? Don't feel like you have to go home though, you should stay here. Why don't you bob for an apple for Malcolm and I? We can share them this evening, and it'll be like we were all here." Nancy fumed. If he hadn't been so late, they would have had time. And nuts to bobbing for apples for him - she'd grab a few from the grocery store. He'd never know the difference.
"Thanks darling, you're so understanding." Geoffrey squeezed her shoulders, and walked off. As he left, he shouted over his shoulder. "Oh, and Nancy? I
will know if you buy the apples instead of winning them fairly and squarely. I know you too well, my darling."
She didn't disbelieve him for a second. Sighing wearily, she bent over the trough again. She did not see the woman with the colourful umbrella, watching her.
