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."