Convenience

Part 25

Even husbands who cared very little for their wives had enough interest in the façade to ensure their PA kept track of birthdays and attended to the issue of sending cards, flowers, presents. But she hadn't even merited that degree of courtesy. Beatrice was fairly sure that his girlfriends had received presents and gifts and dinner on their birthdays, at the very least.

Before she could slide further into despondency Beatrice looked directly into his eyes and said with utter certainty and a hint of sarcasm, "Yours is 4 June."

"Fine." David snapped in exasperation, not liking the direction this conversation was heading. So she knew his birthday, so what?

Beatrice's spine stiffened at his tone. Arrogant bastard she thought silently to herself. To push home her point she said with quiet hauteur and a slight tilt of her chin, "You're thirty-one. How old am I?" She issued the challenge with every once of hauteur that she possessed. She was pretty confident that he wouldn't have a clue as to her age.

David thought back, they had married when she was what, near twenty-one, and that was five years ago, "Twenty six." He stated confidently.

"Seven" She corrected flatly deciding that the only person this particular conversation was hurting was her. It wouldn't matter to him that he did not know basic details about his wife. But it just further confirmed that he hadn't spared her a moment's notice in the intervening five years.

He growled beneath his breath.

Beatrice walked past David. She found herself thinking that she was unexpectedly disappointed. "Going to be twenty eight soon. Why don't you date the divorce papers with that date, it might help you remember. Not that you'll need to know my birth date then."

He was back to growling again.

Beatrice shrugged. This man was her husband, even if it was on paper only, yet he didn't know anything about her. In her dreams she had always imagined that while he may not have been present in her life because he was busy making sure his business survived, that in the back of his mind he knew her. Knew little things. Like her birthday and her age. Both could have easily been gleaned. Not even vaguely difficult to ascertain.

But if he didn't know those simple details she very much doubted he knew anything about her personality or values. Did it matter?

Beatrice sighed quietly.

They were very different people, she decided. For unlike him, in her lead up to marrying David she made sure she found out more about him. Asking quiet questions, gathering tit -bits of information to gain an insight into the kind of man he was. Was he kind? Was he gentle? Was he placid? Was he tender? If she was going to marry someone, convenience or not, she wanted to know whether they'd have a chance to suit.

From what she'd learnt, she thought they had a chance to get to know each other better. Beatrice had hoped that given time they would eventually come to respect each other. Maybe even, in due course, like each other.

She was sure that in time they would have found that middle ground, reached a compromise of sorts and been perfectly content. In her more fanciful moments she thought they might even have come to love each other. That was the only reason she had agreed to her grandfather's proposition. She could do worse.

Based on what she had learnt about David, Beatrice thought he might make a good husband. Wishful thinking. The dreams of a young girl. She was naïve and green and saw too much of the good in most people.

"Is that what this is about?" David decided to stop feeling sorry for him and start standing his ground. "Don't you think you are being a bit childish?" His wife seemed to be able to pull the rug from under him with little difficulty on her part. "You're angry because I don't know your birthday? That's it?"

Beatrice sighed softly. "I'm not angry Mr Cardoso." She told him quietly, seeing that he was going to get disgruntled about the issue. "Disappointed yes. Disheartened, yes." She told him and watched the colour flood his neck. Good, so the man did have a conscience. Good to know she had got some of the facets about the man correct all those years ago. "I don't know of many women who can claim that their husbands do not know their birthday." She said softly.

Though her words sliced through him, his eyes narrowed at the veiled indictment even though the red hue seared past his neck and flushed his cheeks. "This has always been a marriage of convenience." He reminded her bluntly. But even so, David's guilt grew, which was ridiculous.