The Perfect Wife

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The Perfect Wife Page 1

by Kimberley Louise




  THE PERFECT WIFE

  Kimberley Louise

  Copyright © 2019 by Kimberley Louise

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  Cover design by Jane Dixon Smith (Website)

  Table of contents

  Table of contents

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  About this book

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

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  About this book

  Everyone thinks she’s perfect but you….

  When Jean’s son, Eddie, is killed in a car accident, Jean’s world is turned upside down. To make matters worse, Eddie’s wife, Emma, has moved onto a new relationship—and is neglecting Eddie’s children, Jack and William.

  Jean suspects Emma of foul play and believes she may have hurt Edward, but her family and friends believe Jean’s doubts are a symptom of grief.

  Jean won’t rest until she knows what happened to her son. But the more she discovers about her outwardly perfect daughter-in-law—the more she realises that her life may be in danger….

  Thrilling, fast-paced and gripping, The Perfect Wife, is a riveting Psychological Thriller from the British author, Kimberley Louise. For more information about Kimberley Louise’s books, please visit her official website at

  https://writerkimberleylouise.wordpress.com

  Chapter 1

  Jean stood by the living room door and watched her daughter-in-law, Emma, share her tales of Jean’s dead son, Eddie. With characteristic charm and that tearful look in her calm and hypnotic blue eyes, Emma was every inch the perfect wife.

  She'd even organised the funeral, insisting that all mourners wear bright colours to match Eddie's exuberant personality. Eddie wouldn’t want his family and friend’s dressed in black. Wearing black to a funeral was a tradition Jean held dear. But Emma accused her of going against Eddie’s wishes.

  Eddie was Jean’s son, and his funeral was supposed to be about him. Emma had taken over and made it all about her. The day had been heartbreaking enough without having to meet the elaborate demands of her attention-seeking daughter-in-law.

  Testing Jean’s patience further, Emma ordered a top-of-the-range vegan buffet, which cost a fortune. She’d encouraged Eddie to switch to a meat-free diet before he died. The buffet not only stretched the funeral budget to the maximum—the food was left mostly uneaten by the mourners.

  Emma also declared that the after-service reception should be held in Jean and Derek’s living room. She claimed it was what Eddie would have wanted. This sentiment went down remarkably well with the family members. But, it left Jean cold.

  Under normal circumstances, Jean wouldn't have minded. Emma was her son's wife. But, Eddie hadn't even known Emma that long. He’d brought her home several weeks after his first wife, Rebecca, died from cervical cancer. Rebecca's death had left Eddie, and their twin boys, Jack and William, distraught. Jean had to step in and support her son and her grandchildren.

  So Jean was naturally surprised when Eddie had introduced Emma to the family seven weeks later Jean was not impressed. Rebecca was barely cold in the grave, and Eddie and Emma were trashing her memory. Eddie and Rebecca were made for each other. Rebecca was a sweet young woman and a fantastic mother. So how could Eddie move on so quickly? It didn't seem natural to Jean. Derek told her she was worrying over nothing. He believed Emma was lovely and good for Eddie in his time of grief. But Emma was just not Jean’s cup of tea.

  Watching her now, Jean believed she was justified in disliking her daughter-in-law. On outer appearance, Emma was stunning: Long blonde hair, crystal blue eyes, and flawless skin. She had one of those smiles that lit up her whole face and brightened the surrounding room. With looks like that, she was perfect for the stage, Jean often thought, which was why Jean was confused as to why she was attracted to Eddie. Everybody loved Emma—especially Eddie's friends. They assumed she helped Eddie get over losing Rebecca. And they were more than happy to accommodate her. But the Saunders family were doing fine before Emma showed up. Jean didn’t think they needed her at all.

  "How are you love?" Derek asked as he stood behind her.

  "I'm fine, thanks," she said.

  "Emma's doing well. Isn't she?"

  Jean gazed at her daughter-in-law who was laughing loudly with one of Eddie's friends. How could she giggle like that at her husband’s funeral?

  "Yeah, she's bearing up,” Jean said. “Like the rest of us."

  "It can't be easy for her," Derek said.

  "It hasn't been easy for any of us."

  Derek rubbed her shoulder and gave her one of his comforting smiles. Jean had been inconsolable since Eddie died. His death was so sudden and cruel. Eddie left work early to view a house with Emma. She had been insistent that they move out to the country, claiming it would be better for the boys. Of course, Eddie wanted to please her and make life better for his children. When Jean heard the devastating news that her son had been involved in a fatal accident — her world ended. Derek was the one who broke the news. At first, she thought she had misheard her husband. It couldn't have been right. Not her Eddie. Not her boy. But it was true. Eddie was gone. And, Jean still hadn't come to terms with it.

  Jean took a deep breath as Emma glided towards them, carrying a large glass of wine.

  “Jean. Derek. How are you both?" she said. She had one of those posh London accents that sounded animated. “Everything okay?”

  “We're holding on,” Derek told her.

  Emma moved her eyes slowly to Jean, blinking her heavily mascaraed eyelashes. “And you, Jean?"

  "I'm fine," Jean answered crisply.

  “You do look tired,” Emma said. “Go and lie down. I can take care of things.”

  "She’s right, you know, love," Derek said. "It's been a long day."

  “I'd rather not if you don't mind,” Jean replied. “I can't leave everyone. What would they think?"

  "They’d think that your son had just died, and you needed some time to grieve,” Emma said. “I'm here for you, Jean. I’m here for both of you."

  She returned to Eddie’s friend, laughing flirtatiously. Derek held Jean in his arms and kissed her gently on the cheek.

  "It's going to be alright, love," he said. "But I think she's right. You should take a break."

  From the middle of the living room, Emma raised her hand in the air to capture everyone's attention.

  "Can I have everyone's attention? It's a privilege to have you here with us today. I know Eddie knew how loved and a
ppreciated he was. It's been a hard day. I lost the love of my life, and our wonderful boys lost their father. I can't put into words how dreadful it's been for us. But having you guys here and supporting us has meant everything. And, I know it would have meant everything to Eddie. So, can you join me and raise your glasses, please? To Eddie. The most generous and kindest man I'd ever known."

  "To Eddie," the mourners said in unison.

  Jean raised her glass and leaned in on Derek. "Did she say our wonderful boys?"

  "Pardon?" Derek asked.

  "Emma. Did she say our wonderful boys?"

  "I think so, yeah. What of it?"

  "They're not her boys. Their Rebeca and Edward's children."

  "Oh, come on, Jean. Don't start, eh?"

  Jean put her glass on the table and went up the stairs to her bedroom. She took one last glance at Emma who was again, laughing with one of Edward's friends and disappeared into her bedroom. On her way, her sister, Meredith, stopped her.

  "You okay? You going for a rest," she said.

  "I've got a headache," Jean said.

  "I suppose Emma is taking care of everything down here. Isn't she?"

  "Yes, she is. I'll see you later."

  “Okay, love.”

  Once inside her bedroom, she slumped up against the door and took a deep breath. It had been too much. The day had been long and treacherous. She smiled, put on a brave face, and pretended to the world that she was okay. All the time, she was dying inside. She'd never felt pain like it. She didn't feel as though there was anyone she could talk to about how she was feeling.

  Lying on her bed, she put her hand over her ears to shut out the noise coming from downstairs. From her handbag, she dug out a picture of her son, Eddie. Her boy was gone. Her darling, beautiful boy was gone.

  Sometime later, Jean woke up and glanced at the clock. It was eleven thirty. She turned on her side and noticed that Derek wasn’t lying beside her. He must have fallen asleep downstairs.

  Jean went downstairs and paused when she reached the living room door. Looking inside, she saw Derek laughing with Emma on the sofa. Jean stepped through the door and cleared her throat.

  "Jean," Derek said. "We didn’t wake you. Did we?"

  "I was wondering where you were. It is rather late,” Jean said. “We don’t usually stay up this late."

  Emma glanced at Derek quickly. She then stretched forward and put her glass of wine on the coffee table. "I’m sorry. Maybe I should have left earlier.”

  "It’s okay,” Derek said to her. “No need to apologise. Is there, Jean?”

  "It is late, Derek," Jean told him.

  A flush crept across Derek’s cheeks. Emma rose to her feet.

  "Jean’s right,” Emma said. “I should be going. Busy day tomorrow. The boys are back at school."

  "Can I see them tomorrow?" Jean asked.

  "Maybe in a couple of days.” Emma drew her mouth into a straight line and then bit her lip. “I want to get them settled into a new routine. Losing their father can’t have been good for them.”

  Jean grimaced at Derek. She wasn’t going to argue with Emma.

  “Okay,” Jean said to Emma. “Well, I’ll call you.”

  Emma didn’t respond, but her smile was disarming. She hastened into the hall, took her pink coat off the rack, and slipped her feet into a pair of pink stiletto heels. She picked up the matching handbag and stood in the living room doorway.

  “Night, Derek,” she said with a friendly smile. “Everything will be fine. I promise.” Her eyes lingered over Jean. “Night, Jean.”

  “Night,” Jean replied.

  Derek jumped up when the front door closed. He picked up the glasses off the coffee table and hustled into the kitchen. Jean followed him.

  “I don’t see why I should have to ask her if I can see my own grandchildren,” Jean said.

  Derek washed the glasses and put them on the draining board.

  “Why were you so rude to Emma?” he said.

  “I wasn’t rude to her. She was sitting on my couch drinking with my husband.”

  “Don’t say it like that.”

  “You were supposed to be with me,” Jean said. “I buried my son today. I’m upstairs crying into my pillow, and you’re down here having a party with her. How do you think that makes me feel?”

  Derek dragged his hand through his hair repeatedly. “I buried my son, too. Or have you forgotten that?”

  Derek left the kitchen. Moments later, she heard him slam the bedroom door. Jean took a kitchen table chair and sat down. Maybe she had been rude to Emma. But, Eddie was her son, and this had been his funeral. Somehow, Emma had managed to make it all about her.

  Chapter 2

  The following morning, Jean could hear Derek getting for work upstairs. She was making breakfast in the kitchen. Derek was still angry with her for suggesting that Emma leave, but Jean didn’t think she was irrational. It was the day of their son’s funeral, and she needed her husband by her side.

  Jean turned up the portable radio and placed the boiled eggs into their egg cups. Derek liked a good breakfast, but after Eddie died, Jean went into meltdown. Derek had to take care of everything. Jean had been so wrapped up in the emotional burdens that she’d failed to notice that her husband was just as affected by their son’s death.

  She heard the footsteps on the staircase, so she lowered the volume on the radio and sat at the kitchen table. When Derek arrived in the kitchen his eyes widened.

  “Morning?”

  “Morning?” Derek replied. “I thought you’d gone for a walk.”

  “I decided to make you some breakfast instead. I can take Pebbles out afterwards.”

  Jean glanced at their Golden Retriever looting in the hall. She took him for a walk every morning ever since she’d taken leave from work. But that morning, Jean just wanted to focus on Derek. They’d been drifting apart, and that worried her.

  “Sit down,” Jean told him.

  Derek sat at the table and poured some coffee into his cup. Jean sat opposite him and waited for him to finish.

  “This is not like you,” he said.

  “I thought we deserved it after the week we’ve had.”

  “That’s why it’s good to have people around you.”

  “By people you mean, Emma.”

  Derek pressed his lips as he stirred milk into his coffee. “I just think last night you were—”

  “Overreacting?” Jean finished.

  “She didn’t mean anything by it.”

  “Can’t you put yourself in my shoes?” Jean asked. “I come downstairs to find you laughing and cavorting with another woman and—”

  “We were not cavorting Jean,” Derek defended. “I resent you saying that. Particular as she’s my son’s widow.”

  Jean rubbed the back of her neck. “I’m sorry. I’m really sorry.”

  Jean wished that Derek could see the situation from her point of view. Their son was dead. It was the day of his funeral. Jean wanted to spend time with her husband, and not find him enjoying the company of his drunken daughter-in-law. Derek sipped his orange juice and spread butter on his toast. He hadn’t touched his eggs.

  “Eddie’s death devastated me, Derek.”

  “His death has been tough on all of us.”

  "I know, ‘Jean agreed. "But it's tough losing your only son. It really felt like my world was ending. But what kept me going was knowing I had you."

  Jean pushed her hand across the table and touched his arm. She wanted a reaction but got nothing—not even a smile.

  She needed him to hold her and tell it was going to be okay.

  “Do you want a hand clearing the breakfast dishes?" he said.

  Jean pulled her hand back. "No, this it’s fine. I can manage."

  Derek got up and put his jacket on in the hall.

  "I might be late tonight," he said when he returned to the kitchen. "I’ve got a lot on."

  "Okay."

  “Maybe you should think of
going back to the medical centre. It might do you good to get back to work."

  Jean crossed her arms and then uncrossed them again. The thought of going back to the medical centre brought a tightening to her stomach. She loved her job—but everything changed when her son died. How did you slip back to normality? "Maybe you’re right,” she told Derek. “It gets boring sitting around the house all day."

  "That was I was thinking. It will be alright you know."

  “Yeah, of course, it will."

  Derek kissed Jean on the forehead. She held onto his arm, but when Derek didn’t respond, she let his arm go. Once he’d left, Jean went into the living room and watched him through the window. It seemed so easy for her Emma and her family to move on from Eddie’s death. But for Jean—life without Eddie seemed impossible.

  “What do you think?”

  Jean had been looking at her wedding ring and hadn’t noticed her friend, Beatrice was talking to her.

  “Earth to Jean,” Beatrice said.

  “Sorry—what did you say?”

  “I said what do you think about my dress?”

  They were in the changing room section of a department store in Leeds City Centre. Beatrice had wanted to find a dress for her date with her new partner, Mike. She was trying on a green floral wrap over dress.

  “It’s nice,” Jean said.

  Beatrice squeezed her eyes shut and rubbed her temples. “Nice? Jean, my partner is taking me out for dinner, and the best you can do is nice?”

  “I’m sorry,” Jean said. “It looks lovely.”

  “Better,” Beatrice flew back into the changing room and closed the swing doors. “Aren’t you getting anything?”

  “I don’t think so,” Jean replied. “Derek and I are trying to save money. The funeral left us pretty short.”

  “I thought Emma paid for the funeral,” Beatrice said.

  “No,” Jean replied. “Derek and I covered everything. Emma just strolled around looking pretty.”

 

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