Chapter 8
That night while Derek slept in the bedroom, Jean grabbed her laptop and went onto the Facebook website. She never used Facebook and didn’t like social media. The laptop belonged to Derek, which was a present from Eddie. Derek hardly used it either. But she wanted to see if Emma had a profile, or what they called it. She’d heard Emma talking about using Facebook before, and if she had a profile, then she would have posted something about Charlie.
That Emma could move on so quickly was beyond her. She may have denied it earlier in front of Derek, but her lies didn't fool Jean. She didn’t buy Emma’s lies. This Charlie was more than a friend and Jean would prove it.
While Jean waited for the Facebook page to load, she made herself a cup of drinking chocolate and then returned to the kitchen table. The Facebook page loaded and Jean typed Emma Saunders into the search bar. A few seconds later, a few Emma Saunders returned in the search results. There were different women, ranging in age and ethnicities. Jean scrolled down the page checking all the profile pictures, but she couldn’t find Emma. Not the Emma she was looking for. There was one particular girl that had long blonde hair and blue eyes. A replica of Emma. But when Jean clicked on her profile, she saw that the girl lived in Ohio and was forty-four. Emma was thirty-two and lived in Leeds, so it couldn’t be her.
Jean searched again, page after page, but couldn’t find anyone resembling her daughter-in-law. Jean got up from the table and leant against the kitchen counter. She sipped her chocolate and thought. Eddie told her once about people who spied on others on social media. It was like stalking—but Jean didn’t see it like that. She was just proving a point. Her legs felt restless as she stood. She kept blowing too hot or too cold. Her menopause had passed, but her body temperature remained erratic, and her stomach churned constantly.
Jean was about to return to the table, but she heard footsteps walking upstairs. Moments later she heard Derek clear his throat and the toilet flush. She went to the laptop and closed the lid. The heat flew to her head, and it was like she was in a furnace.
“Jean?” Derek called from upstairs. “Are you down there?”
Jean wiped her mouth and stood by the kitchen door. “I’m just having a drink, Derek. I’ll be up in a minute. Would you like one?”
“No thanks,” he said. She then heard the bedroom door close.
Jean sighed relief and went back to the table. She opened the laptop lid and returned to her search.
Eddie and Emma had only been married for two months. She must have used her maiden before and may have used it on Social Media. Jean then tried to think of Emma’s maiden name. She couldn’t remember Emma ever mentioning it. But Eddie told her full name once, Jean remembered. It ended with well. Jean pressed her hand against her head. What was it? If only she could remember, then she would find Emma. She'd be on Facebook parading her life. She was such an extrovert. So full of herself.
Then something flashed in Jean’s mind. When Eddie came to see her and his father one day, he told her he’d met someone. This nice girl, he said. His eyes flashed with admiration to a point where he reminded Jean of a schoolboy. Jean couldn’t fathom how Eddie could declare he’d met the one so soon after his wife died. She wasn’t sure she liked the sound of this woman. Jean remembered he said he’d met at a dinner party of one of his friend’s. Jason Carson. That was it. Jason Carson. He was an old school friend of Eddies. They had gone their separate ways when Eddie went off to university and later found each other on Facebook.
So Eddie had gone to this dinner party—where he had met Emma and was immediately smitten. Jean remembered him talking about her as though he’d never a woman before. He said she was funny and charming and Jason insisted he ask her out. Jean knew Eddie was always easily led. He was never a leader. Weeks after this dinner party, Eddie dated Emma. Even Derek found her alluring, and he hadn’t met her. Jean warned Eddie that things were progressing too quickly. He didn't know her. But Eddie was adamant she was the one.
So Jean suggested that he introduce Emma to herself and his father. Jean wanted to see who was captivating her son. When Eddie brought her home and Jean remembered her first impressions. She acted as though she wasn’t attractive, but knew she was. Jean laughed at how pretentious she was. Men drooled over and she loved the attention. She sat at the table going on about vegan diets and how she visited salons every week to keep herself looking well. She spoke from the moment she arrived until she left and dominated every conversation. Jean wasn’t fond of her. Something about her that wasn’t genuine. But Jean didn’t want to upset Eddie, so she tried her best with Emma. But it wasn’t easy when Jean had a wonderful daughter-in-law before.
Eddie’s first wife, Rebecca, was close to Jean. She wasn’t as pretty as Emma, but she was charming, likeable and family-centred. William and Jack were a credit to her. Jean and Rebecca were more like friends. And Eddie adored her. Her death was a blow. She diagnosed with cancer and underwent treatment for two years. Then the doctors told her that the cancer had progressed to where further treatment wasn’t an option. Her death was devastating. Jean cried for days, and Eddie was numb with grief. Jean never thought Eddie would marry again. Not so quickly. If ever. She had prepared herself to take care of him and the boys. It wasn’t as if Derek needed her that much. He was so preoccupied with work and his friends that Jean found solace in looking after Eddie and her grandsons. They were her world.
Jean looked at the list of Emma Saunders on the screen. Then the surname struck her memory suddenly. Chigwell. It was Emma Chigwell. Jean couldn’t contain her excitement as she typed the name Emma Chigwell into the search bar. When the results returned, Jean scrolled down the list of faces until she came across a young woman with long blonde hair and big blue eyes. The woman wore a bright pink lipstick and had heavily massacred eyes. It was her. Jean clicked on the profile picture and landed on her page. Emma Chigwell. Born in Leeds. Lives in Leeds. Went to Roundhay High School and then Leeds Sixth Form College. It listed her occupation as a Fragrance Specialist. Then Jean eyes moved to the marital status which said in a relationship. With Charlie Baker.
Jean gazed at Emma’s status updates and found pictures of a man. He was about twenty-nine, Jean guessed. Silky dark hair, piercing green eyes, with a body that told you he spent too many hours in a gym. He gazed into Emma’s eyes in all the pictures. That was him. That was Emma’s new boyfriend. Jean clicked on Charlie Baker’s name and was taken to his profile page. On his personal information, it said he was in a relationship with Emma Chigwell. Again there were several status updates featuring Emma. They were a couple, all right. Emma had lied to her and Derek.
Jean slammed the laptop lid down. Unable to take any more. She knew Emma had someone else and her grandchildren wouldn’t lie about it. They’d seen Charlie. They’d been around him. How dare she? They had just lost their father, and there she was bringing another man into their lives. Jean would not stand for it. She didn’t care about upsetting her. All she cared about was protecting her son’s memory and his children.
The following Thursday morning, Jean made a pot of coffee and toasted a round of raisin bread for Derek’s breakfast. She decided she wouldn’t mention searching for Emma on Facebook. He’d only dispute it, and she didn’t want another argument about Emma. Before Derek came downstairs for breakfast, Jean went out into the back garden and hung out the week’s washing, when she heard someone shout her.
“Morning Jean?” Christine, her next-door neighbour, peered over the garden fence. “Are you doing a spot of housework?”
Jean clipped a blouse of hers firmly on the washing line before she stepped towards the fence. “Morning Christine? It never stops does it?”
Christine puckered her lips and nodded. “I’m afraid not. No sooner is one job done, does another job starts. How are you?”
“I’m okay.”
“How was the funeral? Or is that a stupid question?”
“No, it’s not a stupid question. It was tough on all of
us.”
“Well, I’m sorry I couldn’t make it. I only got back this morning. We’ve been to see Ronald’s mother in London. She’s not been well. She had to go for lots of tests, so Ronald and I went down to support her.”
Jean liked Christine and her husband, Ronald. They moved in two months after Jean and Derek in nineteen-eighty-nine. Apart from Jean and Derek, they were the only longest standing couple on their street. Jean and Derek barely spoke to the newer families.
“I hope your mother-in-law gets better soon,” Jean said.
“Thanks,” Christine said. “But she’s as tough as old boots, that one! Anyway, if you need anything, well you know where I am. Ronald and I will pop around when we get the chance, okay?”
Jean’s attention swayed when she noticed Derek through the kitchen window. “Thanks, Christine,” she said briskly. “I’ll see you soon.”
“Okay. See you soon.”
Jean picked up the empty laundry basket and dashed into the kitchen. Derek was looking at the laptop on the kitchen table. She put the basket on the floor and stood next to him, hoping there was no trace of her Facebook search.
“You okay?” Jean asked him.
“Yeah. I wanted to look for some ideas for Ricky’s stag do. But I haven’t time now.”
“I’ve made you some breakfast.”
“I’m late, Jean. I’ve got to work.”
Jean sighed. “Take the morning off.”
“I can’t do that.”
“Are you still angry with me?”
“I’m not angry with you.”
“I needed to talk to someone, that’s why I see Sierra. Please understand.”
“I’m not saying I don’t understand, Jean. You lied. I can’t talk about it now. I need to go.”
Derek gave her a dispassionate kiss on her flushed cheek before he left. Jean stared at the kitchen table of undrunk coffee, and uneaten fruit toast, the heat inside her burning her skin.
Jean went to Sierra’s office that afternoon. She waited at the reception desk while the young woman in front of her completed her conversation on the telephone.
“Hi?” she said, once she was free. “Can I help?” “I’d like to see Sierra please?” Jean asked.
“Have you got an appointment?”
“No, I haven’t. She’s not expecting me but I do need to see her.”
“I’ll just see if she’s available,” the receptionist replied. “Can I take your name?”
Jean gave her name and moved while the receptionist rang Sierra. Moments later Sierra exited her office with a woman who looked about fifty-something, with greying black hair, and red, tired, bulging eyes. Sierra handed her a tissue and told her to make an appointment for the following week. When Sierra noticed Jean, her eyebrows raised.
“Hello Jean?”
“Hi? Could have a chat,” Jean asked.
“She doesn’t have an appointment,” the receptionist intervened from behind her desk.
“It’s okay, Sarah, I have some free time. Come through, Jean.”
Jean followed Sierra into her consulting room and pulled the door shut. “Sit down,” Sierra said, pointing to the empty chair opposite hers. “Can I get you a drink?”
“Coffee, please.”
She made the coffee in the kitchenette and handed a white mug to Jean.
“Thanks,” Jean said. “Sorry to burst in like this.”
“It’s okay. It happens I have free time this afternoon.”
“Good timing.”
“Yes, I suppose. So, what can I do for you?” She sat in the chair was opposite Jean and crossed her legs.
“I wanted to apologise for the other night. When I called you. I was distressed.”
“That was clear. You don’t have to apologise.”
“I wanted to. I didn’t know where else to go.”
“Has something else happened?”
Jean sipped her coffee. “Derek knows about our sessions. He’s not happy about it.”
“What did he say?”
“Nothing, that’s the problem. He won’t talk about it. I didn’t mean for him to find out. Emma told him when we went to see her about this new boyfriend of hers. She did it to get back at me.”
Sierra gazed at Jean. “Why would she do that?”
“Because that’s what she’s like. We went over there to ask her about this new man in her life. She denied it, but I knew she was lying. So last night I checked her Facebook profile and saw pictures of them all over each other. It’s like my Eddie never existed.”
“Could you have misread what you saw?”
“Pardon?”
“They could be good friends.”
“Oh no, I don’t believe that rubbish for a second.”
“If you want to believe something you will. Nothing will convince you otherwise.”
Jean sipped her coffee again. “I know it’s true. Emma is a liar.”
“So your husband didn’t take the news well.”
“No, not really. Emma made it sound like I was conspiring against him. I wanted to tell Derek myself.”
“You seem to project a lot of anger towards your daughter-in-law.”
“She deserves it.”
“Why is that?”
“Because Derek and I are fragile as it is, and she’s made it worse.”
“I think it upsets your husband because you didn’t tell him about your meetings with me.”
Jean understood that. Maybe she should have told him about her therapy sessions. She knew Derek’s views on therapy. He wasn’t keen on it. And he wouldn’t agree with his wife seeking outside help.
“I try to talk to Derek. But it’s like he’s shutting me out. I need him to understand that this isn’t personal. I didn’t mean to go behind his back.”
“I think your husband is facing his own struggles. You’ve both had to deal with Eddie’s death.”
After Jean left Sierra’s office, she went to a coffee shop in Leeds City Centre and ordered a latte and a Danish pastry. She found an empty table near the window and watched as people walked by. She wasn’t sure how she felt after talking to Sierra again, but at least she had someone to confide in. She felt lonely, and she couldn’t seem to get through to Derek. He’d stopped talking, and she didn’t know what to do.
A sound of a screaming child crushed her silent thoughts. Jean glanced at an Eastern European baby who had dropped his toy on the floor. He was sitting in his pushchair, and his screams echoed around the tiny cafeteria. Jean rose from her seat and handed the toy to the child. The baby’s mother looked at her and smiled.
“Thank you,” she said.
“You’re welcome,” Jean said. “Is it a girl or a boy?”
“He’s a boy,” the mother replied with a proud, loving smile that Jean knew well. “He’s fourteen months.”
When Jean went back to her table, she continued to gaze at the little boy, flooded with memories of Eddie flooded. Her son was such a beautiful boy. A joy. To think the crash took him from her life. That fatal car accident had not only killed Eddie but a part of Jean. She jerked a screwed-up used tissue from her coat pocket and forced in the tears breaking the barricades of her eyes. With a tight chest and unsteady legs, she tried to stand but was thrown back to her seat. It was only when she noticed a pale freckled hand on her left shoulder she glanced upward and realised she everyone was watching her.
“Are you okay, love?” the barista asked.
Jean got a squirmy feeling in her gut and shifted in her seat. “Yes, I’m sorry. Thank you for the coffee and the pastry.”
She rushed out of the cafeteria and bumped into members of the passing crowd. Fired with heat, and shame she dived towards the Leeds City Library building and leant against the cold stone wall. While she breathed in the cool autumn air, she realised she was experiencing a mild anxiety attack. She tried to avert her mind from the dark thoughts about her son’s death, and her Emma’s crushing games. Ten minutes later she could breathe properly, and sh
e’d stopped crying. Spotting the number fifty bus pull up outside the Superdrug store, she walked across the pedestrian crossing and got her bus pass out of her handbag. Finding a seat on the bus, she sat next to an elderly woman and prayed she wouldn’t have another attack.
Chapter 9
Derek hadn’t really spoken to her since they got back from Emma’s house. It was now Friday so it had been three days. She couldn’t stop thinking about Derek and the way he looked at her when he found about her therapy. Derek was big on trust and honesty in a marriage, but Jean was too ashamed to admit she needed help.
Eddie’s death had crushed her, and the only person she felt able to share her misery with was Sierra. But Derek wasn’t pleased about it and he’d expressed his displeasure at her for keeping it from him. Jean was angry at Emma for telling Derek the way she did. But she was angrier with herself for not telling him first.
Emma’s cunning smile plagued Jean all day. The scene at the house kept replaying in her head. Emma denied having a new boyfriend, but she didn’t fool Jean. The other evening when Emma had let herself into Jean’s home and forced fed Jean tales of her dating history, she admitted to cheating on previous boyfriends. There was also the note she left at the grave, and t-shirt Jean found in the black bag of Eddie’s clothes.
What if she’d cheated on Eddie? Maybe that’s why he was so eager to move away and make a fresh start. Maybe Eddie thought by moving away he could change her.
Jean was in the living room when she heard the front door. Going to the window, she saw Emma standing at the doorstep. She opened the front door but didn’t invite Emma in.
“Jean?” Emma said.
Jean looked her up and down. “Yes?”
“Don’t be like that.”
“How do you expect me to be like?”
“Can I come in?” Emma asked.
Jean showed her into the hall. Emma was walking into the lounge, but Jean stayed by the front door.
“Just say whatever it is you have to say,” Jean said.
The Perfect Wife Page 6
