“Derek?”
After a few moments. “What?”
“I didn’t mean for her to leave.”
“It doesn’t matter now.”
“It clearly does.”
“You made her feel as though she isn’t wanted.”
Jean didn’t mean for it to sound like that. Well, at least she didn’t think she did.
“I wanted the boys to stop here tonight.”
Derek turned over and faced her. “After the way you’ve been behaving?”
“How do you mean?”
“The business with the aftershave, the way you keep getting at Emma. You’re hardly co-operating with her are you?”
“Why do I need to co-operate with her? I’m their grandmother. Their Eddie’s children.”
“They’re in her care. She’s their mum now. She’s right, you will upset them if you keep carrying on the way you have been doing.”
“Derek, I think you’ve got Emma all wrong.”
“What does that mean?”
“I don’t know—”
“Then why say it?”
Jean’s chest started to hurt. “I just feel something in my stomach. There’s something not right about her.”
“What?”
“I can’t put my finger on it.”
“Jean’s it all in your head. It’s the grief.”
“It isn’t.”
“Maybe you should go and see your doctor.”
“Listen to me, Derek. I know I’m right. Emma is not who you all think she is and I am worried about my grandchildren.”
Chapter 16
Jean met her friend, Gwen, in the Fusion bar in Headingley the following week. Gwen had just returned from a post-retirement holiday in Italy. She’d phoned Jean that morning, insisting that they meet for a coffee and a catch-up.
Jean didn’t really feel like it. After her evening with Derek ended in disaster, the last thing she felt like doing was meeting old friends. She had to force herself to leave the house.
Gwen was sitting at a table when Jean arrived.
“Jean. Hi,” Gwen said, standing and enfolded her friend in a hug.
“Hello, Gwen,” Jean said.
Gwen held her apart and surveyed her. The close scrutiny made Jean feel even more uncomfortable than she already did.
“You look well,” Gwen said.
Jean smiled tightly and studied her friend.
Gwen Marshall could never be described as growing old gracefully. Heading into her sixth decade, like Jean, Gwen wore age as well she wore her expensive perfume. Dressed appropriately for the autumn weather in an Aloe Vera coloured cross over dress, she wore a classy cream scarf around her neck, not to mention her knee-length, low –heeled, black boots.
Her red hair sparkled as much as her green eyes. The trip to Italy had worked wonders for her.
“I haven’t seen you in how long?”
“Six months, dear. And what a six months it has been. Sit down. Drink?”
“I’ll just have a sparkling water, please,” Jean replied.
“Water? Is that the best you can do? We’re having a bottle of wine and no arguments.”
Jean smiled as Gwen went to the bar to order. Jean hadn’t been to this particular restaurant before. It seemed a little too trendy for her taste. Most of the customers didn’t look a day over thirty-five.
When Gwen returned, she carried two glasses of white wine which she placed on the table.
“Thanks,” Jean said. “Have you coloured your hair?”
Gwen laughed. “You mean have I dyed it? Yes. I have. Shame on me.”
“It looks lovely.”
Jean ran a hand through her hair and Gwen caught it.
“How are you?” Gwen asked her.
“Good. How was Italy?”
“Fab. Marshall didn’t want to come back. I had to literally bribe him to come home. Mind you, you only live once. How’s Derek?”
“He’s fine. He’s at work.”
“Oh,” Gwen said. “Has he not retired yet?”
“No. He’s enjoys working.”
“He’s not like Marcus then. He couldn’t wait to give up his nine to five. He reckons retirement is the best thing that’s ever happened to him. Hence, we have just spent six months in Italy. It’s nice not having to worry about getting up at the crack of dawn every morning.”
“Derek said he’d be bored at home all day.”
“When he’s got you? Are you still working?”
“Yes.”
“Jean, we’ve been there and done that. It’s time to enjoy life now. How’s Eddie doing? I heard he’d got married.”
Jean’s chest tightened. “Yes. He did.”
“How is it going?”
“Good. I’m not too keen on his wife, though.”
“Well, it’s that old mother-in-law versus the daughter-in-law battle. Is it? Let’s face it. Nobody is ever going to be good enough for our precious sons. It will work itself out.”
“I guess so.”
“At least he’s moved on. It can’t have been easy for him losing Rebecca.”
“It was tough on him, yes. We all saw that. But now he’s got a new life.”
“What’s her name?”
“Who?”
“Eddie’s wife?”
“Emma.”
“I once knew an Emma. Completely in love with herself she was.”
Jean sipped her wine. “She is quite confident.”
“She needs to be, taking on those two boys. How are they?”
“They’re great.”
“Good. I must say you’re looking slim. Have you lost weight?”
“I’ve gained, actually.”
“Are you getting enough sleep?” Gwen sipped her wine. “I’m sorry. You do turn me into a mother hen. I hope you’re taking care of yourself.”
“How are your children?”
“Grand. Amelia is in Australia. She’s getting married next year. Ben is doing well. He’s a lawyer now, just like your Eddie. I’m very proud of him. He’s in Paris.”
“That’s lovely. They’ve got their whole lives ahead of them.”
“Are sure you’re alright, Jean?”
“I’m just tired.”
“I’m having a birthday party for Marcus next month. He’s going to be sixty-two. Why don’t you and Derek come along? It would be good to see you both.”
“I’m not sure—”
“Are you about to turn me down? I won’t take no for an answer.”
Jean smiled. “Okay.”
“Great. And maybe you bring Eddie and his new wife too?”
When Jean arrived home, later that day, she found Derek in the living room with William and Jack.
“Where have you been?” Derek asked.
The boys rushed up to her. “Hello, darlings. I went for a drive,” she answered Derek. “What are the boys doing here?”
“Emma rang and said she was bringing them over. Seems she’s had a change of heart.”
Jean kissed her grandsons. She was happy to see them. But, she wondered what had changed Emma’s mind. She hadn’t heard from Emma for a week.
“That’s good of her,” Jean said.
“I said it wouldn’t be a problem.”
“Of course it’s not a problem. Where’s she going?”
“She didn’t say.”
“You didn’t ask?”
“I didn’t think it was my business.”
The boys, bored with Jean’s cuddling, went back to watching their cartoon program. Jean went into the kitchen and filled the kettle with water. Derek followed her.
“How did your meeting go with Alison?” he asked, leaning on the kitchen door.
“Good,” Jean switched the kettle on and then took the milk out of the refrigerator. “Better than I expected. She’s a real hoot. She’s happy for me to come back.”
“You’re an asset to that place. She wouldn’t want to lose you.”
Jean smiled slightly. “
It will be good to get out the house. It was rather refreshing being back at the medical centre.”
“So I do know what I’m talking about then,” Derek said. “I said going back to work would do you good.”
“Yes, you did,” Jean agreed.
Derek moved towards her and kissed her lips. It was nice being close to him, even if those moments were fleeting and temporary.
“Where else did you go?”
“Oh, nowhere important. Just fancied a drive.”
Jean didn’t want to mention David. Derek’s opinions of people begging were not always charitable. And she wasn’t sure if she could explain why she had done it.
“Are you glad the boys are here?” he asked her.
“Over the moon. But—”
“No buts Jean. Let’s just try and make this work. This is what we want, to spend time with our grandchildren.”
“And you’re happy with Emma having full control, are you. Doing that when Emma says so.”
“I just want everything to go back to normal. I don’t want to start a war with Emma, not after everything we’ve been through these last couple of months.”
“Yeah,” Jean conceded. “Maybe you’re right.”
Jean had to keep the peace. She had to pretend everything was okay so as not to upset Emma and lose access to her grandsons. Something about just didn’t feel right.
“When did Emma gain so much control over family? And why could she not do something about it?” she wondered aloud.
“I don’t think it’s like that,” countered Derek. “You’re just choosing to see it that way. Should
“Should we take them out for something to eat?” Derek asked.
Jean nodded. “Yes, okay.”
That night, Jean couldn’t sleep. She kept thinking about what Derek said about her obsession with Emma. She could understand how it might seem that way. But, it wasn’t an obsession that drove her against Emma. It was Emma’s behaviour, in particular, her behaviour towards Jean.
Turning to her side, Jean switched on her bedside lamp and glanced at her clock. It was ten past three in the morning. She got out of bed and slipped her feet into a pair of slippers on the floor. She then slid on her dressing gown and stepped out onto the landing. She poked her head through the spare room door. Derek was fast asleep. Jean stepped into the bedroom and made her way to the bed. She sat on the edge and stroked his head, gently. He stirred slightly and then opened his eyes.
“Derek, I’m sorry,” she said.
“I’m trying to sleep, Jean.”
“Please, can we talk?”
“Not now.”
“Please, Derek.”
“Not now.”
“Fine.”
Jean got up and closed the bedroom door. Making her way downstairs, she went into the kitchen and made herself a hot chocolate. After she’d finished, she took the hot chocolate into the living room and sat on the couch. Flicking on the TV, she clicked through numerous channels, unable to find anything that satisfied her. She turned off the television and went to the dining room table where she saw a picture under the table. It must have been left there by the boys. When she picked it up, she smiled. It was a painting by the boys. But, her smile faded when she looked closer and saw that they had drawn stick people with the names under them. The sticks names were Emma, William, Jack, and Charlie.
The next morning, Jean got the boys ready for school and waited for Emma. Derek had already left for work. She’d noticed he’d been doing a lot of overtime since Eddie died. Derek told her that they needed the money as the funeral had left them penniless.
As Jean stood in the living room, she heard a car pull up outside. She went to the door and watched Emma get out of the car. She went into the hall and opened the front door.
“Morning, Emma,” she said.
“Morning, Jean,” Emma replied.
Emma kissed her on the cheek. It left Jean really cold. But she gave her a tight smile.
“How are you this morning?” Emma asked her as Jean led her into the living room.
“Good, thanks,” Jean said.
Emma hugged the boys who ran into her arms.
“I’ve missed you both,” Emma said. “How have they been?”
“A delight,” Jean said. “I could have dropped them off at school.”
Emma shook her head. “I want them to keep to a routine. It’s best that way. They’re used to me taking them.”
Jean ignored the obvious jab and helped William and Jack put on their coats. She didn’t want them to leave. Looking at Emma’s hand, she saw a large ring on her third finger. Emma noticed her watching it and started rubbing her ring.
“Do you like it?” Emma said. “I thought I’d treat myself.”
“Yes—it’s very nice.”
Jean thought it looked like an engagement ring, but she didn’t say anything. Not in front of the boys.
“Right, come on, boys. Time we were leaving. Say thank you to Nana.”
Jean kissed her grandsons and walked behind them into the hall.
“Emma?”
“Yeah.”
“I was wondering if you fancied going for a coffee some time.”
“You and me?”
“Yeah. There’s this nice place in Headingley. Just opened.”
“What’s brought this on?” Emma asked, looking at her reflection in the mirror.
“How do you mean?”
“Well, you’re hardly my biggest fan.”
Jean couldn’t argue with him there. But, she wanted to keep her relationship civil with Emma, for the sake of the boys.
“I know we’ve had our differences,” Jean told her.
“You’ve had your differences, Jean,” Emma corrected her.
Jean ignored the tone of her remark. “We should try to get along for the boys’ sake.”
Emma glanced at the boys and smiled. “Yeah. Okay. Where is the place?”
“It’s called the Lunchbox. It’s by the library. Are you working today?”
“No. I’ve got the day off.”
“Shall we say one o’clock?” Jean asked.
“Sure.”
“It will be a nice family outing.”
Emma smiled, but Jean could see she wasn’t convinced. Neither was she. But, at least it was a chance for the two of them to talk. Emma left with the boys and told Jean she might be a couple of minutes late—but she would be there.
Chapter 17
When Jean arrived at the Lunchbox in Headingley, Emma wasn’t there. Jean went up to the counter and ordered a cappuccino and one of the delicious looking cakes that were staring at her from behind the glass display case. Jean took her cake and coffee to a table and waited patiently. Fifteen minutes later, she saw Emma stroll into the shop. She was holding a plastic bag from her department store. Jean recognised the label. Her red trench coat and blonde hair were luminous.
“Sorry I’m late,” she said.
“It’s okay. Can I order you a coffee?”
“I’ll get it. Would you like a refill?”
“Yes, please.”
Emma went to the counter. Jean could see her laughing with the waiter behind the counter. Moments later, she strolled back and sat at the table. There it was again, that huge ring on her finger.
“I wasn’t expecting this,” Emma said.
“What?”
“You inviting me out for a coffee.”
“I’m trying to keep things civil for the boys’ sake.”
“We both want what’s best for them, Jean.”
“I know.”
It pained Jean that she had to sit and agree as their opinions differed. Jean didn’t actually think Emma cared about the boys at all. Why else would she move another man in so quickly?
“How is Derek?” Emma asked.
“He’s okay.”
“It’s been tough on him. Hasn’t it?”
“It’s been tough on all of us.”
“Men are not as open with their feeling
s as we are.”
“I’m sure he’d tell me if he was really struggling.”
“It’s not always easy talking to the wife. He wants you to lean on him.”
“Has he said something?”
Emma sipped her coffee and took a while to answer. “No. Not really. He’s just very sensitive and not like you.”
“Me?”
“He’s not as tough as you.”
“I see.”
“Oh, don’t listen to me, Jean,” Emma said as she picked the bag she’d brought in off the floor and handed it to Jean. “I’ve brought you something.”
“What is it?” Jean asked.
“Open it and see.”
Jean opened the bag and took out the green blouse that was inside. She unfolded it and stretched it out in front of her. It was very large.
“You don’t have to buy me clothes,” Jean said.
“It’s no problem. Besides Derek said that you could do with some new stuff.”
“It’s a very bold colour,” Jean said.
“It will brighten you up. You’re always wearing greys and blacks.”
“I like the clothes I wear.”
“But does your husband?”
“I’m sorry?”
“I shouldn’t have said that,” Emma said. “But you have to admit, Jean, you haven’t really been taking care of yourself. Have you? And there’s the weight gain.”
Heat rushed to Jean’s head and she felt nauseous. Emma was smiling, or maybe she wasn’t.
“Jean, are you okay?” She heard Emma ask.
Suddenly, Jean was transported back to the playground where pupils surrounded her. Fatty Jean keeps all the food to herself because she is so mean. As the pupils chanted the rhyme, and rancorous laughter followed, Jean saw a pitiful image of herself, huddled in the corner crying for her mother. She wasn’t sure why she was crying for her mother, as she teased her too. The only person who never called her fat was her father. Everyone else mocked her weight. And now it was happening all over again. Even her husband thought she was fat. Jean stood up and grabbed her handbag.
“Jean, where are you going?”
Jean didn’t answer. She made her way to the door, ignoring Emma’s calling her name. She just wanted to go home and be alone.
The Perfect Wife Page 11
