The Perfect Wife
Page 8
That night, Jean and Derek made love for the first time in months. Jean wasn’t sure what brought it on, as Derek was angry with her for her treatment of Emma over that hat. And then the aftershave business hadn’t helped matters. Although, nothing ever tainted Derek’s desire for sex. Jean was the less passionate of the two. It was rooted in how she felt about herself, more than the enjoyment the act itself.
When it was over, Derek fell asleep. He didn’t say he loved her, which he usually did. Maybe that would have made it more tempting, knowing he still loved her. To know that maybe he wasn’t sleeping with her because she was there. Had she become a wife he had come to accept and tolerate rather than really want?
If only he could look at her the way he used to, when they were first married. Jean was happy then. She was in love, and though she had to marry Derek because she was pregnant with Eddie, she was in love. But, something had died between them. It may have sounded melodramatic when she thought about like that, but that look wasn’t there anymore.
Their lovemaking had become formulaic, just like their conversations across the dinner table. Nothing excited them anymore—especially not each other. That frightened Jean more than anything. Deep down, when she was at her most vulnerable, she needed Derek. And, now, with Eddie gone and the family feeling so fragile, she needed him more than ever.
Chapter 11
Jean hadn't been to see her father in a long while. He was living in a care home, as he'd been suffering with dementia for many years. She wasn't sure why she hadn't been to see him. If she was honest with herself, that wasn't true. She did know. Jean and her father had never been really close. In fact, Jean hadn't had a close relationship with either of her parents.
Jean had come to accept it. She was never their favourite. Meredith and her older sister, Jackie, had held the position in her parent’s affections.
As Jean parked in the care home car park, she breathed a nervous sigh. She never enjoyed going there. It was always tense. She and her father never quite knew what to say to each other.
Locking her car that Saturday afternoon, and walking into the home, she gave her name to the receptionist behind the desk. A young care assistant led her to her father's room.
When she went inside, her father, Joel, was sitting on his arm chair looking out the window.
"You're daughter has come to see you, Mr West," the receptionist said.
Her father didn't look up at either of them. The care assistant left Jean alone with him. Seeing no chair other than the one her father was sitting in, Jean went and sat on the edge of the bed.
"Hello, Dad,” she said. “How are you?"
Her father didn't reply. Jean felt embarrassed, but tried to brush this aside. Her dad had always been good at making her feel that way.
"Sorry I've not been to see you for a while," Jean said. "A lot has happened since we last saw you."
"What do you want?" he replied.
"I wanted to see how you were."
"After all this time," Joel replied.
"It's only been a few weeks. And, I told you why that was. Eddie, your grandson, died. Do you remember I told you?"
Her father continued to look out the window. His rejection cut through Jean's heart.
"I want you to go now."
"No, Dad, please. Eddie died. He was killed in a car accident. I couldn't come and see you. I wasn't very well. I have to take tablets. You remember Eddie. Don't you?"
Her father gave her a sidelong glance. "She came."
"Who?"
"His wife."
"Eddie's wife, Emma?"
Her father nodded. "She came."
"When did Emma come to see you?"
"You're a very bad woman."
Jean rubbed her sweaty hands on the thighs of her jeans. "What do you mean, dad? What did Emma say to you?"
"You've been cruel to her. Nasty. I didn't bring you up like that. Your mother would be very ashamed of you."
"How dare you say that to me?"
"It's true."
"No, it's not true. You and mom never even noticed me. I could have set myself on fire and you two wouldn't have cared less."
Joel covered his ears with his hands and started shouting.
"You're a bad woman. Bad woman. Get away from me."
"Dad, you're not thinking straight. Please don't do this.
The care assistant rushed into the room.
"What's the matter?"
"He just started getting upset."
"He was alright before," the care assistant accused.
"Well, he's not alright now."
The care assistant calmed her father down and then called Jean outside.
"This is not the first time he's reacted to you in this way," she said. "We have to keep him calm, or it could make him ill."
"I didn't mean to upset him," Jean said. "What's this he's saying about Emma?"
"Emma?"
"His grand daughter-in-law. Has she been here to see him?"
"I'm not sure I should be telling you who comes to visit."
"But you must know if she's been here or not. I need to know because I think she's saying things to him."
"What things?"
"Things that have upset him."
"He didn't seem upset when she left. Actually, he was asking her to stay longer. He loved her company."
"So, she has been here?" Jean asked.
"She's entitled to see him."
"She isn't entitled to anything. I don't want her to come here anymore. I forbid her from seeing my father."
"I'm sorry, but that's not your decision," the care assistant said. "Mrs Shipley is the one we're supposed to take orders from."
"Fine. Well, I'll talk to my sister, and we'll sort this out. I won't have my father stressed out by Emma's lies."
Jean left the care home and got into her car. She was so upset that she almost cried. Her father was so distressed that he didn't want her to come near him. He’d never showed her much affection, but she'd never seen him like that. What must Emma had said to him? Her dad was saying that Jean had been cruel to her.
Emma had no right. Jean was angry and emotional. Emma shouldn't be seeing her father. She didn't even know him. Joel never went to her and Eddie's wedding. Now she was visiting Joel and telling him lies. That's what Emma's tales were, lies.
That evening, after Jean had taken a bath, she was drying herself when Derek came into the bedroom. He was carrying a book which he placed on his side table.
"I'm going to read a couple of chapters of this and then it's night for me,” he said. “I don't know why I'm so tired. It's not like I've done much today."
"You've been on that laptop for most of it."
"It's a report I'm doing for work. I said I'd work on it over the weekend."
"We need to talk."
"Talk about what?"
Jean dried her hair. "About Emma. I went to see my father today and he was terribly upset."
"Was he? Why?
"Emma had been to see him and told him a pack of lies."
"What do you mean, Jean?"
Jean started to put on her pyjamas. "I mean she told him I was a wicked woman."
"He said that?"
"Yes."
"That Emma told him you were a wicked woman."
"Yes."
"Jean, your father's got Alzheimer's."
"It's what he said."
"He probably didn't even know who you were."
Jean moisturised her face. "He knew who I was and he certainly knew who Emma was. He told me to leave. He didn't want me there."
"I wouldn't take any notice of him, love. He's not well."
"Derek, don't brush this off."
"What do you want me to do?"
"I want you to listen to me. She's told my father that I have been cruel to her. And, because he's confused, nobody is going to listen to him. Don't you think she knew that?"
"So what if she did go to see him. Maybe he wanted to see her."
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"Why? He barely knows her. He barely knew Eddie, for the amount of notice he took of him. So why does he want to get all pally with Emma? It doesn't make sense. My father is being manipulated by her."
"Are you sure that's not what you want to believe?"
"What do you mean?"
"It's like you want to believe the worst of her," Derek said.
"I don't have to try to do that. She's proving time and time again what a master deceiver she is."
Derek came up to her. "When are you going to stop this?"
"When I've convinced everyone what she's really like."
"Fine. But don't say I didn't warn you."
Derek shook his head and went into the bathroom. Jean sat at her dressing table. Tears stung her eyes and she reached for a tissue. Emma was reaching into every open crack of Jean's family. She was a like a worm, crawling in slowly, and devouring.
Chapter 12
Jean called the care home on the following Tuesday morning and instructed that Emma was not to be allowed to visit her father anymore. She knew that she was going against her family’s wishes. But Emma was out to get her. And Jean was not going to let Emma manipulate an elderly man.
A week later, Emma had arranged for the family to go bowling on Saturday. Jean hadn’t seen Emma for a couple of days, apart from the time she phoned so the kids to talk to them. It was nice hearing from her grandsons, but difficult hearing their rapour with Emma. She kept asking them to tell her and Derek about all the fun stuff they’d done after school or at the weekend. The boys were so excited, unknowingly letting Jean know how they felt about Emma.
When Emma phoned on Friday evening and said she’d planned an evening out, bowling, Jean grimaced as she held onto the phone.
“Bowling?” Jean asked.
“Yes,” Emma replied, theatrically. “It’ll be fun, just what you need.”
Why her specifically? Everyone was feeling down after what happened to Eddie. But in spite of her initial resistance, Jean agreed. Jean wasn't in the mood, but she pushed herself for the sake of the family. Especially as she was still annoyed with Emma over the aftershave business.
It seemed so strange, but Jean wasn’t sure why. Derek did say that Emma gave him the aftershave at the funeral, and then Jean found a receipt for the same aftershaves under her dressing table, in her bedroom. The whole thing seemed odd, and someone was definitely lying.
Jean hadn’t said anything to Derek, as he would only disregard her concerns. She’d have to choose her moment, wisely, and not come across as the jealous wife who constantly suspected her husband of foul play. She wasn’t that, although, you could never be too sure.
Meredith and Ava couldn't make it bowling that evening, but Beatrice and her new partner, Mike, attended. As Jean waited at the check-in counter for her shoes, Emma was standing beside her talking the man in front of them. Jean wasn’t sure if Emma knew him, but Emma would speak to anyone. The attendant behind the counter was spraying shoes with deodoriser, with a cubby hole cupboard filled with ugly shoes behind him, and looked as fed up as Jean felt. Emma finished her conversation and then turned her attention to Jean.
“I’m glad you decided to come, Jean,” she said.
“It’s okay. Maybe it would do me some good.”
“That I can count on.”
Jean brought the volume in her voice down. “Emma, I found a receipt for some aftershave in my bedroom. It was under my dressing table.”
“Oh, did you drop it by accident?” Emma asked, pursing her lips.
“No, it’s not mine. I was wondering if it was yours.”
“Mine?”
“You gave Derek some aftershave, he said they belonged to Eddie.”
“Yes, I remember. Eddie was always buying that stuff. I didn’t see the point in keeping them in the house so I gave them to Derek. He told me to put them in the bathroom cabinet.”
“So where did the receipt come from?” Jean asked.
“I’ve no idea. You may have dropped it by accident. I’m always doing that.”
“I would have remembered if I’d brought expensive aftershave for my husband. It’s not mine.”
Emma brought her face closer to Jean. “Yes, but you haven’t exactly been yourself lately have you?”
“What do you mean by that?” Jean snapped, slightly.
“Well, it’s understandable. Everything you’ve been through. I know you told the care home that I wasn’t to see your father anymore. I don’t know why you thought that was a good idea. It will only upset him.”
“I did that because you’ve been lying to him. And I’m not talking about my dad. That’s nothing to do with you. We’re talking about the receipt and the aftershaves.”
“I wouldn’t be surprised if you become a little forgetful. I’m telling you that you’ve brought them and forgotten about it.”
They’d reached the check-in counter, and Emma began speaking to the attendant. Jean gazed, and a number of things ran through the mind. That was receipt was yours, you liar. I know it was you.
Jean noticed Emma had been drinking that evening. But, it was okay. Jean would be glad of the excuse to take the boys home with her.
Derek threw his bowling ball down the lane and hit ten pins. Jean stood up and clapped. As Derek came back to the table, Emma stood up and kissed him on the cheek. A cold tremor shot down Jean's back.
"That was good, darling," Jean said, as Derek sat down.
"He was better than good, Jean," Emma shouted. Even though she was only sitting inches away from her.
"I've still got the knack," Derek said. "Eddie was a good bowler."
"Yes, he was," Jean said.
Derek went to the toilets while Emma bowled. Beatrice edged closer to Jean.
"She's good with them, isn't she?" Beatrice said.
"I suppose she is," Jean said.
"How are you doing?"
"Good. Well, you know."
"It will get better."
"You think."
"I know," Beatrice said. "I've never lost a son, but I did lose my mother, and that was tough. And at least you've got Emma and the boys."
"How do you mean?"
"It’s like a reminder of Eddie. She has his spirit. I can see why he was attracted to her."
"He was lonely."
"It was more than that," Beatrice said. "He could have had anyone, but he chose her."
"I suppose," Jean said.
Jean sipped her Coke, trying to digest what Beatrice had said. But, she couldn't. What if it had been Emma outside her bedroom window on Thursday night? Or Emma who had lied about and deliberately planted the receipt in her bedroom? Would they all think she was so wonderful then?
Beatrice left Jean and joined Emma. Jean noticed that Beatrice and Emma got along. Mike seemed to like Emma too. It was like Jean wasn't there.
Moments later, Jean was walking towards the toilet, and Emma shouted after her.
“Jean?”
“Yes.”
“Are you alright?”
“Yes.”
Emma looked unconvinced and tilted her head to a side. “You’re not worried about that receipt business are you?”
“No. Now if that’s all.”
“Jean, I really would like us to be friends. But I feel like you’re hell-bent on making it an impossible task.”
Jean’s gaze flicked upward. “Emma, this is really—”
Jean was interrupted when a tall, slender young woman with curly red hair approached Emma.
“Katy?” The woman asked.
Emma looked at her, but then shifted her gaze. “I’m sorry?”
“It is Katy isn’t it?” The woman asked, looking towards Jean in confusion.
“No, my name is Emma.”
There was a moment of confused, awkward shifty gazes and silences.
“I’m sure…I must have been mistaken. Sorry to have troubled you.”
The woman strode away, looking back at Emma as though she was sure she�
�d got the right person. Emma shook her head and laughed nervously.
“Some people, honestly,” she said. “I better get back to the boys.”
Emma left Jean, who continued to the toilets, but her eyes never left that woman who had thought Emma was someone called Katy.
Later, they ate in the restaurant section of the bowling centre. As everyone was tucking into their food, Emma got up.
"Beatrice, how are things going between you and Mike?" she asked.
Beatrice looked at Mike and smiled girlishly. "Good, I think.”
“Things are great,” Mike said. “We’re both very happy.”
"You look great together," Emma said. "Don’t you think so Jean?"
Jean sipped her Coke. "Yes, I do. Don't you think the boys have had enough fizzy drinks?"
"They're fine," Emma said.
"Just relax, Jean," Derek cautioned.
"Yes, Jean, lighten up," Emma said. "We're supposed to be having fun."
Jean sipped her Coke again as a method to keep herself calm. Everyone went quiet.
"It's good to see you're enjoying yourself again," Mike said to Emma. "I can't imagine what it's like to lose someone you love."
Jean started coughing, and Derek tapped her back.
"Are you okay?" Derek whispered.
"Yes, I'm fine," Jean whispered back.
"Would you like some water, Jean?" Emma asked.
"No, thank you," Jean said.
"Yes, Mike, these last couple of months have been tough, but I'm putting one foot in front of the other. If I had a therapist, that's what he'd tell me. Isn't that right, Jean?"
Emma looked directly at Jean. For a moment, Jean was locked into her gaze, unable to move. She could feel the heat rushing to her head.
"I guess so," Jean said.
Nobody knew about Jean’s therapy, and Emma knew it. She was enjoying the power she had over Jean. Jean was scared she might say something.
"Are you and Beatrice going to get married?" Emma blurted out.
"You can't ask them that!" Jean said.