Parcel for you....Part 5

 

Over the following few days, Vanessa, very occasionally and cautiously took Spencer out of ‘depressed man’ setting and engaged him in conversation until she became sick of him, or rather, sick of the strange set of circumstances she had created in her own home, her sanctuary.

 

Her new husband was more sophisticated than she had feared. He seemed to really listen, cocking his head, narrowing his eyes and nodding, although there were constant indications that his responses were automated. ‘The more you put into him, the more you will get out,’ that was the mantra from the manufacturer, indeed it was printed on the box in Comic Sans font.

 

He hadn’t slept upstairs though, in fact Vanessa wasn’t really comfortable with him being inside the house at all during the night. Spencer had a sleep mode which she applied to him strictly at eleven pm after directing him towards the daybed in the conservatory. According to the manual, the same sleep and waking times programmed over seven consecutive days would result in automated bedtimes.

 

Her friend, Pat had agreed to come over on Saturday for dinner and this seemed like an appropriate time to get Spencer to be a bit more active and carry out some basic household chores. He had run a vacuum cleaner round with reasonable results and emptied the washing machine into a plastic laundry basket although he had paid a worrying amount of attention to the word, ‘Rubbermaid’ which was printed on the side.  

 

‘Where’s Wesley then?’ Pat said, her face shimmering with excitement

 

‘What? He’s not called Wesley. Hang on, are you winding me up?’

 

‘No. That’s his name isn’t it?’

 

Vanessa suspected that her friend was attempting to undermine her marriage by feigning ignorance in regard to important details about her new husband.

 

‘Come in here a minute,’ she said, ushering Pat into the lounge, ‘Read my WhatsApp messages will you, he’s called Spencer!’

 

‘Oh yes, Spencer….what on earth made you come up with that name?’

 

Vanessa shrugged. ‘I was stumped by what to call him and I just got looking at some plastic carrier bags in the kitchen, you know, brand names.’

 

Pat lifted her hand up to her mouth and laughed. ‘Wow! He could have been Wilko or TK Maxx. I wonder what I would have named him. I’ve always thought Fraser’s a nice name for a handsome man.’

 

‘Mmm, it is.’

 

 

‘Well? Didn’t you have a House of Fraser bag?’

 

‘No! God, that place is like a jumble sale these days. Anyway, he’s called Spencer and that’s that. It’s what he answers to. He’s chopping lettuce in the kitchen at the moment.’

 

‘Chopping lettuce? I’m impressed. He is being useful then..’

 

‘Well…to be honest, he’s doing it extremely slowly.’

 

‘What,’ Pat laughed, ‘slower than a real man?’

 

‘Yes, perhaps, I don’t know. It’s been a long time since I observed a man being useful in a domestic setting but it just seems like everything he does is painfully slow. I feel like taking over from him but I need him to get used to human tasks I think.’

 

‘Can you not just change the settings, make him speed up?’

 

‘No, I don’t think so. The manual says he’s prone to serious malfunction if you hurry him and that applies to everything he does. Oh and under no circumstance am I to make him do more than one thing at a time because that could result in him crashing completely and returning to factory setting. That would be a shame, especially if I’d got him to a place where we were happy and things were going well.’

 

‘True. Although it could be useful if you want the relationship to start afresh.’

 

Vanessa frowned and nodded. ‘Maybe..Anyway, come through to the kitchen.’

 

Pat rubbed her hands, ‘I can’t wait to see him again. Oh,’ she paused in the hallway, ‘you’ve still got the cardboard box.’

 

‘I don’t want my neighbours to see that in the recycling bin.’

 

‘Oh don’t worry about what people think, life’s too short. You know, I discussed it with a few of my colleagues and they honestly said it was no big deal, not everyone’s lucky in love.’

 

Vanessa rolled her eyes but held her tongue. Spencer was standing with his back to them, chopping a cucumber into thick slices and placing each slice individually into a salad bowl. ‘You remember my friend Pat don’t you, Spencer.’

 

He turned around and fixed his eyes on her. ‘Hello again. Do you want me to mow?’ He said, ‘The grass may be too wet today for optimal lawn cutting.’

 

‘Oh,’ Pat jumped up and down, ‘he remembers me! Hey, you’ve got a bit more colour in your cheeks today,’ she rushed over to him, put her arms around his waist and hugged him. ‘Oooh he feels so nice. It’s been a long time since I felt a six pack like that.’

 

He stepped back and raised his eyebrows, looking at Vanessa for reassurance. ‘Vanessa has made me a man,’ he said and cast his eyes down to the floor.

 

Pat looked shocked and then burst out laughing. ‘What, Vanessa, you haven’t?’

 

‘No!’ said Vanessa, blushing slightly. ‘I don’t know what he means by that. Maybe it’s because I’m wearing the ring now,’ she lifted her left hand to show her gold ring. ‘Hey, I think I’m going to put him in depressed mode again, Pat. This is too weird.’

 

‘No don't! He’s doing a grand job of chopping that cucumber. Let him be. I like to watch a man work. How is he at pouring wine?’

 

Vanessa found herself experiencing a certain sense of deja vu. Observing Pat being domineering and flirty in the presence of Spencer made her realise that this is what her best friend always did whenever they met new potential mates. She muscled in shamelessly, being overly familiar, projecting shallow, inane adoration onto them which either scared them away or caused them to switch all of their focus on her so they could lap up the attention.

 

The JML husband should surely be immune to other female influences. He’s my husband, I paid for him, Vanessa thought as she observed Pat playing with him, giving him compliments, occasionally touching his shoulder, his hand. She even offered to help Vanessa get him into his paisley pyjamas which he hadn’t worn yet. ‘No, not yet. I’m not ready to see him naked. He sleeps downstairs on a daybed.’

 

‘Oh come on. I’m dying to see what he looks like under those chinos. If you don’t let me do it now with you then you’ll only have to do it by yourself when he’s more familiar with you, so which is it?’

 

Vanessa sighed, ‘I don’t want to rush things.’

 

‘Rush what? He’s not even a real person. Honestly Vanessa, I think you’re losing the plot. If he were mine, I’d have tried everything by now. Changing his clothing is nothing, he can’t be wearing the same outfit all the time, you’ll need to get him new clothes. Look, I’m going to Turkey tomorrow, you’ll have to wait a long time till I’m back.’ Pat had a way of staring right through people, opening her eyes wide and nodding her head repeatedly as if bouncing a small ball on top of it. The effect was intense and very persuasive. ‘Come on, finish your wine, I’ll fetch the PJs.’