by Janet Preece
‘Coming, darling! Pasta tonight.’
Groans came from the other boys’ rooms. ‘I don’t want anything,’ William called. Only minutes before, he’d said how starving he was.
If you were really starving, darling, you would be grateful for anything you were given. You don’t know you’re born. Her grandma’s phrase rang in her ears as she thought about old-school parenting and how much better it would be. Don’t offer variety. Don’t ask, simply provide. Make them cook everything for themselves and do all the prep and cleaning up – that way, they will learn to show appreciation for what they receive.
It was easier said than done. Julie felt like a slave but knew full well she was the perpetrator of her own demise. She would make the pasta, put it on the dining table and hope one out of three would eat it. If it was up to her, she would make a lovely salad with smoked salmon, pine nut kernels and a beetroot vinaigrette, maybe even put pretty purple swirls around the plate to make the creation pop, all accompanied by fresh, homemade seeded rolls, warm with melted butter – served on a side plate with a proper butter knife, of course. Oh, the extravagance!
She thought of their family prayer: Thank you for the blessings of the food we eat, make us forever grateful, and thanks for our home, family and friends.’
The kids had recited those words on many occasions, yet clearly, the meaning was lost on them. Kids, going through the motions, getting by doing the bare minimum of everything, coasting through their lives… Well, life is short kids, so wake up and grow up! She’d never understood why people said childhood was the best time of your life. Childhood was a minefield of agony: no freedom, no choices, no life experience to put things into perspective – all of it thrown in with a whole lot of mistakes that ended in agonising mixed emotions.
Julie still felt like a child. She’d never broken free, and when it came to cooking for the kids, food had long-since lost its appeal. She was never hungry for her family-friendly creations yet continued to pile on the weight. Parenting had filled out her weekly meal planner with simple, basic food as her boys were just so fussy. As a result, she constantly craved something different, so she had become a snacker, always searching for something else.
She thought of Vanessa at school – her kids ate anything. Off to school with a sushi packed lunch one day, homemade savoury lunch muffins the next. They were the exception, surely? Or was that what she wanted to believe so she didn’t feel like such a failure? Julie was jealous. Maybe I should kill her off next, she mused. That would wipe the smile off her face. Or kill off the kids? Bit harsh maybe. Who would benefit more from the purge – the children, or the mother? She figured getting rid of the kids would be the humane thing to do. She and the other mums wouldn’t have to hear about Venessa’s parenting perfection anymore, and the children wouldn’t have to sit next to the fishy kids in the school dinner hall.
Julie walked into the kitchen to put the pasta on, realising she would have to tackle the dirty dishes first so she could drain the pasta. They were piled high in the sink, as usual. She couldn’t remember ever seeing an empty sink for more than two minutes. Today, it was a cesspit of rotten food floating in leftover coffee remnants. When she’d left the oven trays soaking overnight, it was a very civilised affair – but that was no longer the case, thanks to everyone piling plates on top without even scraping the food off first.
The dishwasher must be clean. She opened it, but, surprise surprise, it hadn’t been turned on, was abandoned like everything, left to her, full of dirty dishes. For fuck’s sake, she felt an uncontrollable rage as she bit her tongue, holding back the scream she longed to set free.
She couldn’t face making the dinner with the stinking mess but didn’t want to wash up by hand either. Argh! So annoying! First world problems, she knew, but she was seething with anger regardless.
Just chill out. Or smash a few… Now, there’s a thought.
She picked up a filthy, food-stained dish and dropped it on the floor. It cracked slightly. She grabbed another and smashed it full-pelt on top of the first. This time, a rewarding crash as shards of porcelain and stray peas went flying across the room.
Julie felt calm, enjoying the satisfaction of clearing the dishes. What would happen if she simply left, abandoned everything – the hungry kids, the filthy mess, the broken fragments of her life? Adrenaline raced through her as she thought of how wonderful it would be to walk out and escape, leave Dan to clean up all the wreckage. How would he cope? How would any man cope if their household help went on strike? That’s how she thought of herself – not as a wife, a friend or a mother, only the home help: unappreciated, neglected, forgotten… invisible. How would Dan manage his work? She wished she didn’t care enough to even question it.
She knew other single mums who struggled but managed. They enjoyed the freedom of being the sole decision-maker in the house; their word was final. One of her friends, Mary, boasted that her life had dramatically improved since she kicked her partner out. He wasn’t abusive, he hadn’t had an affair or been a shouter – he’d just really annoyed her. Julie remembered the moment Mary told everyone – and the hushed, shocked responses. The jealousy she had felt listening to her story, that Mary was brave enough, valued herself highly enough to say no to the mundane lifestyle that was boring her to death.
Julie reached for the broom and started to sweep up. She wasn’t quite at that stage yet and wasn’t ready to face the consequences. She looked around the kitchen. It was old and tired, and she felt an immediate affinity. She thought back to the woman whose life had ended; whose life she had taken away. Amrita, that was her name. Had she dreamed of escaping? Had she quietly embraced the release of death – waited, hoped, intentionally provoked Julie to attack? She had escaped the conveyor belt of domestic boredom. Julie longed to switch places.
As she gave in to her Cinderella role, she couldn’t brush the thought from her head. Just leave, Julie. Don’t say goodbye. Escape. Nobody is stopping you, only yourself. She could treat it like a social experiment, teach her family to manage without her – but what if they could? What if she wasn’t missed? What if their lives continued on without her, or worse still, if life was improved by her absence? How could she return? What would her purpose be, if not to care for her kids and her husband?
She couldn’t do it. Didn’t want to leave, only wanted to feel appreciated.
After the weekend with Dan, that’s when I’ll make a decision. See how things go.
It just wasn’t the done thing, walking out on your family, but how much of a relief it would be if it was suddenly made acceptable, mainstream even. A mass walk-out of women all over the country! Equality of the sexes had not really benefitted women, only berated those who continued to carry out domestic housewife roles. The book club girls, even Rachel, made that clear enough with their constant nagging for Julie to prove her worth through something more: a job. Now, thanks to Kate, a career-driven, independent, baggage-free woman, Julie had also felt the need to shift, to move closer to the expected norm.
A woman’s work is never done. Never, ever.
◆ ◆ ◆
Dan walked in with three boxes in his hands. ‘Panic alarms for the kids,’ he explained. ‘You won’t be needing one in the house, but they have to go out to school, so they need to stay vigilant.’
‘I really don’t think that’s necessary, Dan.’
‘How can you be so calm? You’re always so anxious and stressed about the stupidest things, yet now there’s a killer on the loose, you don’t even care about your kids’ safety, never mind your own!’
She switched off from his rant, watching him as he stomped around the room like an angry kid trying to gain control of his emotions, trying to make some kind of sense of what was going on; but that’s just the point, nothing made sense or would ever again.
As he babbled on and on about installing CCTV doorbells to keep an eye on comings and goings into
the house, she felt like a prisoner. She couldn’t explain the truth, tell him they were safe, that the enemy was already inside and that they weren’t her target.
‘Well, I’m not having it. Wake up, Julie, it could be literally anyone! Just because those kids have been arrested doesn’t mean they’ve caught everyone involved and even if they have, there could be retaliation killings to come!’
She watched him all red in the face, pumping himself up, goading her, wanting her to react, but she wouldn’t give him the satisfaction. ‘Okay, Dan. Whatever you say.’
‘What?’ he stammered, caught off-guard. ‘Next, you’ll be telling me how you’ve got too much on, blah, blah, blah, but what have you got on? There’s no reason why you should leave the house. Your only job is to look after us, and I don’t see much of that going on at the moment.’ He glanced around at the kitchen she’d just cleaned up, frowning at the pasta boiling away. ‘I’m out tonight for Curry Club,’ he said. ‘Make sure you clean this shit up. It’s filthy in here!’
With that, he walked out of the house again, leaving Julie staring after him.
He was such a hypocrite. How could he just leave? She felt tears of anger and frustration fill her eyes. Don’t give in. Use it, channel it, find an outlet and enjoy the release. Who would you like to kill next? Can I? Yes! Should I? Yes, just do it. Life is short, so live without regret.
She started a mental list of potential customers. Maybe one of those teenagers if they got let off the murder; a retaliation on behalf of the victim’s children. They obviously deserved punishment if they’d been hauled into the police station. Julie didn’t care what happened to her – she had nothing to lose. But she would need a plan.
But first, their weekend away. A final chance at following the right path, the family path, Dan didn’t know how much was riding on it. At the end of the weekend it would be a case of all in, one way or the other. Family life rejuvenated verses a rampage of vengeance against the deserving; proper old-school punishment.
Chapter Fifteen
Julie: Rachel, can you keep a secret?
Rachel: You’re pregnant????
Julie rolled her eyes at her phone as she read her friend’s instant reply.
Julie: Fck no!!!! I was going to ask abt a bikini wax!
A moment later Rachel sent back a disappointed emoji face along with a telephone number and a kiss.
The week had passed by so quickly, Wednesday arriving before Monday even registered, and Julie knew time was running out and she still needed to prepare for the weekend. She clicked on the number Rachel had sent her. Okay, bite the bullet. She pressed ‘Call’ and waited for the dial tone.
‘Hi, yes, I’d like to book in for a bikini wax… A Hollywood? What’s that?’ She listened to the description grimacing in mild horror but tried to be brave. ‘Okay…I’ll give it a go.’
Julie hung up and went back to her wardrobe. Everything was so dowdy now she’d thrown the little black numbers out. She stashed a few of her better trousers, vests and cardigans to one side. They would have to do.
Friday morning, Dan left for work, trying to sneak off without a goodbye. Maybe he couldn’t keep the secret if they made eye contact? She no longer cared, the day had come at last and Julie was thrilled.
‘I’ll see you Monday evening then,’ Dan said, leaned forward and kissed her on the head. He was enthusiastic and flushed, clearly struggling to keep up the pretence. He called up to the kids, ‘have a lovely weekend guys! Look after your mum for me!’
I hope all this painful itchiness will be worth the sacrifice, Julie thought as she watched him. Goodbye body hair, hello prepubescent smoothie. She had quite literally bared all and now felt liberated, having survived the total humiliation. Legs up, buttocks spread. Oh, dear God, that beautician had gone to places even her gynaecologist hadn’t visited after the damage of childbirth! But now she was a new woman. If she could brave that, she was capable of anything.
Tommy came running downstairs into his dad’s hug, while William shouted, ‘Bye, Dad!’ and continued playing his game. Jack didn’t even acknowledge Dan leaving, probably still in the shower. What was it with teenagers and hour-long showers? What were they doing in there? She shuddered at the thought.
William shouted again, some lame comment about Dan being too old for a lads’ weekend. Dan smirked but didn’t reply. He wasn’t giving anything away, still keeping up the pretence as he walked out of the door.
‘Have a good weekend. See you Monday!’ Julie shouted with a wink as she watched him walk down the driveway.
He put his luggage in the car boot without a backward glance. So, how long would it be until she got the call to leave? Had he arranged to pick her up after work, to send one of the drivers maybe? She smiled as she helped Tommy put on his shoes for school. Seven years old, forever her baby.
Julie leaned forward and hollered up the stairs, ‘Boys! You’re going to be late for school!’ Whose idea had it been to allow them computer games in the morning? She reached for the Wi-Fi mains to turn it off but thought twice about the potential fallout, so instead, she flicked the power off.
William shouted, ‘Mum! There’s been a power cut! The lights have gone out!’
Yes, son, they have. Perfect timing for the school-run. She smiled as William came jumping down the stairs two at a time and went straight out the door. No comment. No further complaint. No goodbye. I suppose they don’t know I’m going away for the weekend. Shame. It would have been nice to have a hug.
There was still no sign of Jack so Julie went upstairs to check on him. The bathroom was empty, so she knocked on his door.
‘Jack, you’re going to be late for school!’
No response. She opened the door slowly, giving him time to cover himself if he wasn’t dressed. But he wasn’t in there either.
Fine, fine, fine. I can ignore you just the same.
‘Tommy! We’re going now.’
◆ ◆ ◆
Julie returned to a peaceful house after dropping Tommy off. She couldn’t help but hum away to herself as she caught her reflection in the bedroom mirror. This trip could change everything, renew her and Dan’s bond, help the family stay together. She opened the wardrobe door and hunted for a bag for her holiday clothes, marvelling at the sliding door hinges that kept hold for a change. A good omen?
It was such a long time since she’d last been away, and Julie had no idea where the small holdalls were kept. Dan frequently travelled for work and had taken his usual bag that morning. She walked over to his wardrobe and started rummaging around in the back. So many self-help books, yet she’d never seen him read one. There were framed pictures stacked on the floor at the back, family pictures they used to display in their old house. Julie thought back to the traumatic move – not only the stress of will-we-won’t-we when it came to the house sale, but the actual moving day and all the months and years of unpacking that followed. She couldn’t catch up. All the pretty things in life had been pushed to one side, stacked at the backs of wardrobes, waiting for a better day. Waiting for time to return.
Julie spotted Dan’s gym bag at the top of the wardrobe. That would have to do. She jumped up and grabbed for the handle, bashing her arm on the shelves when she missed and knocking his aftershave bottles over. He had so many! She’d never noticed before. She tried again and this time caught the edge of the bag, which sent it crashing down onto her head.
For fuck’s sake, ow! Why does everything happen to me?
She refused to let the minor accident affect her good mood as she unzipped the bag and tipped out its contents. His gym kit looked good as new – quite literally – tags and labels still stuck to everything, the trainers still padded with tissue inside.
Odd.
She rolled up her trousers and put them in the bag, hoping that would keep them more crease-free than if she folded them, then threw her hair straightene
rs in for good measure. Just in case. She smiled, brushing off the dust and hoping the plug hadn’t fused.
Julie opened the family safe and took out the treasure – her prized necklace, sat lonely and neglected on top of a pile of important papers. It had been an anniversary present back in the early days, when weeks and months were counted as celebrations; an excuse to show each other their love and affection. A beautiful trinket from a time when their emotions ran so high they craved a way of showing each other just how much they felt. Back then, love was like a drug coursing through their veins, and the two couldn’t get any closer if they tried. Julie had wanted to inject Dan into her; somehow get even closer. It wasn’t possible their love could have been any more intense. If she could get only a tiny bit of it back, they would be able to make it through another twenty years of marriage.
She struggled to open the box, but when it finally clicked, it revealed the most beautiful, sparkling blue pendant sitting on top of a red velvet cushion. The necklace promised the radiance of a Swarovski crystal even though she’d received it long before she knew what Swarovski even was. It wasn’t worth much, they hadn’t had much money, but to her it was priceless. Every woman needs a little sparkle in her life. Julie smiled, reaching around her neck and pulling up her hair before tackling the clasp. It was the only piece of jewellery that her children hadn’t destroyed. A tentative bind with her life before. Typically, the romance ended with the necklace slipping from her grasp and falling to the floor. ‘Why?’ she cursed, reaching down to feel around under the bed.
Yuck. What is that?
She couldn’t bring herself to look as her fingers grabbed blindly, finally making contact with the sharp crystal edge. Julie lifted it out and attempted to rid the pretty jewel of the hair it had picked up on its travels. Now wasn’t the time. She wanted to be ready. She threw the necklace in the end of the bag, hoping the gold-plated finish wouldn’t tarnish as it brushed up against her toiletries. Life could never be easy, could it?
