The Perfect Wife

by Kimberley Louise

  “So you think Emma spiked your drink?” Derek asked Jean the following morning as they sat at the kitchen table.

  “Yes I do,” Jean replied.

  “What makes you think that?”

  “There is something about her. I can’t put my finger on it. But I had only one glass of champagne, and that was it. She must have been behind it.”

  “That’s a very serious allegation, Jean.”

  “I know, and I wish to God that I didn’t think like this. But, I feel like Emma is turning my family against me. She deliberately tries to humiliate me, like getting me drunk at my niece’s birthday party. She knew how much I was looking forward to it. And she ruined it.”

  Derek’s lowered his head. “I think you resent her for marrying Eddie. This is a part of your obsession with her.”

  “You’re wrong.”

  “Am I?”

  “Yes, you are. Derek, I think Emma is dangerous, and we need to do something about her before it’s too late.”

  “Before what, Jean?”

  “Whatever she’s planning.”

  “And what is that?”

  Jean stood up. “I can’t explain it.”

  “And that’s the problem.”

  “We were different before she came. I don’t know why but she’s damaged this family. Look at Ava! She barely notices me anymore. Ava and I were so close.”

  “So, you’re jealous of Emma. Is that it?”

  “Why won’t you believe me?”

  “Because you’re not making any sense,” Derek said. “I want to help you, but I feel out of my depth.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “I’m practically going under, Jean. The business is in trouble. We could lose the house, and the cars, and everything. I don’t even know how we will pay for my son’s funeral.”

  “I know things are tight.”

  “Tight? We’re drowning in debt, Jean. You’re only working part-time.”

  “I can go back full-time.”

  “You can’t go back full-time because you’re not well. You’re too bothered about Emma when you should be worrying about our future.”

  “Only because I know what she’s doing.”

  “I’m worried about what you’re doing. How often do you think we’ll see the boys now? Everybody thinks you’re a drunk, and irrational.”

  “You think I’m crazy. Don’t you?”

  Derek paused. “I don’t know what to think.”

  “I need you to stand by me. Everyone is against me, and rooting for Emma.”

  “You can’t stop. Can you?”

  “No, I can’t because I don’t understand how we can go from a normally functioning family to this. And I think Emma is behind it. And I won’t stop until she is out of this family.”

  “Jean—”

  “No, Derek. I’ve listened to you long enough. It’s because I’ve listened to you that we’re in this mess. When Emma wanted a big, posh funeral for Eddie, I said no. We couldn’t afford it. You went along with everything and now look at us. Even buying a pint of milk is a strain. When have we ever owed money to anyone? I didn’t work my whole life to end up like this. And all because you will not listen.”

  Jean went into the hall. She grabbed her coat, scarf and handbag. She left Derek standing in the kitchen.

  “I tried calling you,” Beatrice said later that day.

  They were sitting in a coffee shop near where Beatrice worked. Jean sipped her coffee.

  “I’ve been otherwise minded, so to speak,” she told Beatrice.

  “I was glad I saw you earlier,” Beatrice commented. “You seemed in a world of your own.”

  “I was,” Jean confessed. I’d just seen Ava and Emma together.”

  “That a problem?”

  “It depends which way you look at it.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “I think Emma spiked my drink at Ava’s birthday party,” Jean said.

  “Jean, speaking as a lawyer,” Beatrice cautioned her friend, “That’s very serious. Why would she do that?”

  “You sound like Derek.”

  “Well?”

  “Because she wants to come between my family and me. And she is doing it. Oh, her plan is working so well. She is a master of deception.”

  “But it sounds so—”

  “Far-fetched,” Jean supplied. “You think things like that don’t happen to middle-class people like us?”

  “I didn’t mean that.”

  “Ever since Emma came into our lives, things have changed. I can see it. Why can’t everyone else?”

  Beatrice sipped her coffee. “You’ve had a lot to deal with.”

  “Change the record, Beatrice.”

  “Jean, don’t talk to me like that.”

  “I’m sorry. Oh, I don’t want us to fall out. You’re my best friend.”

  “When it suits you.”

  “Sorry?”

  “You haven’t even asked about the wedding,” Beatrice said. “I’m getting married, and you haven’t shown the slightest bit of interest.”

  Guilty as charged, Jean thought. Shamefaced, she lowered her head and then gazed at her friend.

  “I’m sorry,” Jean said.

  “I didn’t mean to sound self-centred, Jean. I know you’ve had a hard time. But, is Emma the problem here?”

  Jean was sure. But she would not convince Beatrice.

  “It’s not your family. Not your problem,” Jean said.

  “That’s not fair.”

  “Life isn’t fair. Is it? I lost my son, and now she wants to take my grandchildren away, and you’re talking about fair.”

  “I thought—”

  “I’m happy you’re getting married and that you’re happy. Everyone should be happy. But, I don’t know what happiness is anymore. I’ve just got this hole in my heart and my life. And I’m supposed to celebrate things like marriages, and births, and graduations — great things. But, I can’t stop thinking about my boy, lying in the ground. And, his so-called wife parading her new boyfriend around like my boy never mattered. And he mattered, Beatrice,” Jean said, tearfully. “He mattered to me. I can’t get over that. I can’t.”

  “Oh, Jean. I’m sorry.”

  Beatrice stretched her hand across the table and touched Jean’s arm. Then, they held hands as Jean cried.

  Chapter 25

  The following Monday morning, Jean tried to keep her mind focused at work as it was her first day back. It wasn’t easy. She kept seeing the picture that the boys drew of themselves, Emma and Charlie. It broke Jean’s heart to think that her grandsons thought of Emma and her new boyfriend as their family. Charlie wasn’t anything to them. He was barely anything to Emma. Jean doubted if Emma had known him that long. It was far too whimsical to be a serious relationship. Jean didn’t want her boys caught up in it. But, she didn’t feel as if she could talk to anyone about how she was feeling, or why she was feeling the way she was.

  Jean was tending to a patient when she noticed Alison coming out of her office. She came up to the desk and waited until Jean had finished booking the appointment for her patient.

  “Busy morning?” Alison asked her.

  “It’s been quiet this morning,” Jean said to Alison.

  Jean felt that Alison was continually checking up on her. Maybe she was being highly sensitive, but it was just the impression she got.

  “So, you know it’s Francis’ birthday?”

  Jean slapped her head slightly. “Oh no! I’d forgotten.”

  “It’s okay with everything you’ve had to cope with. We’re having a birthday party for her this lunchtime. When I say party, I really mean fancy lunch.”

  Jean smiled. “Sounds great.”

  “It is a surprise.”

  “Mum’s the word,” Jean said. “I’ll get you a coffee.”

  “Thank you, Jean. I could do with it.”

  Alison rubbed Jean’s shoulder and went back into the office. Jean went into the side offi
ce and flicked on the kettle when she returned to the reception area, Emma was standing at the desk.

  “Emma?” Jean said.

  “Hi, Jean. Can I see the doctor, please?”

  “Yes, have you got an appointment?”

  “No.”

  Jean checked on the computer and saw that there were no available spots that day.

  “You really need to have an appointment before you can see the doctor.”

  “What about that drop-in thing that you do?”

  “The drop in centre is this evening.”

  “Can’t you fit me in at all?” Emma asked.

  Emma started rubbing her stomach, and her face looked pale.

  Jean’s eyes followed her hands and then she looked at the screen. “I’m afraid not,” Jean said.

  “Oh, well. I’ll have to book an appointment then.”

  “I can do that now if you like,” Jean said, still watching Emma rubbing her stomach. She tapped on the computer keyboard. “There’s an appointment tomorrow at 1:15. Is that okay?”

  Emma smiled. “That’s great.”

  “Would you like an appointment card?”

  “I doubt I’ll forget. I never forget anything important.”

  “Are you okay?”

  “I will be when I see a doctor.”

  “You don’t think it anything serious?”

  “Not really.”

  Jean was desperate to ask Emma if she was pregnant. The way she rubbed her stomach and the nauseous look on her face.

  “So, we’ll see you tomorrow at 1 pm.”

  “You said 1:15.”

  “Sorry, of course. Yes. See you then.”

  Emma strode away. “Bye, Jean.”

  Jean watched her leave. She was so focused on Emma that she hadn’t noticed her boss standing behind her.

  “Coffee?”

  “Sorry?” Jean asked Alison.

  “You promised me coffee,” Alison said with a smile.

  “Yes, sorry.”

  Jean went into the back room and started to make the coffee. The thought of Emma being pregnant, making her shiver.

  That lunchtime, Jean and her colleagues went to a restaurant in Leeds city centre for Francis’ birthday celebration. She was fifty-eight and apparently she was enjoying it. She looked well. Her colleagues all brought her presents. Jean told her that she’d get her something that weekend and apologised for forgetting. Francis said she understood. Though Francis was nice about it, a part of Jean felt as though she’d forgotten about her friends and family, and replaced them with grief. It was a strange feeling, celebrating. Every time somebody mentioned a birthday, or an engagement, or any other happy occasion, it was like something would ping inside of her. It was an occasion. She’d never share with Eddie again. She was grieving for what she’d never have, as well what she’d lost. She was saddened by the thought of never celebrating her son’s birthday again.

  Though Jean felt drained from the onslaught of anxiety, she tried her best to celebrate with Francis. She could see the understanding in Francis’ eyes as she tip-toed around her, as though Jean was a baby needing looking after. Jean wasn’t a baby, nor a victim. She was just a mother who missed her son terribly.

  When Jean arrived home that evening, Derek was in the living room watching television. He’d finished work early that day. She dropped her bag on the floor by the couch and started to unbutton her coat.

  “What a day,” Jean said. “It was Francis’ birthday.”

  “Was it?” Derek asked.

  “Yeah, but I forgot. She understood, thankfully.”

  Things were still tense between them after their argument the night before which resulted in Derek sleeping in the spare bedroom.

  “Work was okay otherwise?” Derek asked.

  Jean sat beside him once she had taken her jacket off. “Emma came into the medical centre today. She wanted to see a doctor.”

  “Not surprising as it’s a doctor’s surgery.”

  “But was her manner. She kept rubbing her stomach. I think she’s pregnant.”

  “Pregnant?”

  “It’s the way she was behaving.”

  “Jean, she could have had wind.”

  “It wasn’t wind.”

  Derek got up off the sofa. “You’re not going to stop this. Are you?”

  “Why won’t you take me seriously?”

  “Because there’s nothing to take seriously. Jean, we’re sleeping in separate beds.”

  “Because you keep brushing everything I say aside like it doesn’t matter,” Jean said. “You’ve always done that. I’m tired of it.”

  The phone ringing interrupted their heated conversation. Derek answered it.

  “Hello? Oh hello, Emma. Yeah, I’m fine. Is everything okay? What now? We’re just about to have our dinner. Okay. Not a problem. Bye.”

  “What is it?”

  “She wants to see us.”

  “When?”

  “Now.”

  Jean stood up. “Is it the boys?”

  “She didn’t say.”

  “I knew there was something wrong,” Jean said.

  Jean was sure something was wrong when Emma came into the surgery earlier.

  “Jean, let’s just see what she wants before we jump to conclusions.”

  Derek and Jean drove over to Emma’s house twenty minutes later. Emma let them into her newly decorated hall with a candid warmth that had been lacking when she came into the medical centre earlier. With brightened cheeks, a green figure-hugging jumper, a pair of skinny jeans, and her long blonde hair tied in a ponytail, her girlish demeanour that everybody loved was in full flow.

  “Thanks for coming,” she said in a quiet tone as she led them into the living room. It was dark outside, so the room was lit by a dim lamp. There was a tray of tea and biscuits on the dining table and no sign of the boys.

  “Where are they?” Jean was about to say before she was interrupted by a tall, strapping man lurking in the doorway.

  “Hi, Charlie. Come inside,” Emma told him.

  “What’s going on?” Eddie asked her.

  Charlie stood by Emma, wrapping his arms her shoulders. Emma glanced at him, as though this move was inappropriate. Then she looked at Derek and Jean.

  “The reason I asked you both to come, was to tell you that Charlie and I are engaged.”

  “Engaged?” Derek asked.

  “You mean you’re getting married?” Jean asked.

  “Yes,” Emma said.

  “We love each other, Mrs Saunders,” Charlie said. “Emma thought it was best that you and your husband weren’t kept in the dark.”

  Emma looked at Charlie with a sickening loved-up smile. Jean couldn’t believe what she hearing or seeing.

  “But, when we asked you about it, you lied,” Jean said. “You said nothing was going on between you.”

  “I didn’t want to upset you,” Emma said.

  Jean’s heart felt as though it had dropped into her stomach. “And what do you think you’re doing now? Do you think this is right? This is my son’s house.”

  “Jean, please understand,” Emma said.

  “You can see why she would be upset, Emma?” Derek said. “It does seem a bit quick.”

  “Upset? I’m fuming,” Jean said. “Eddie, my son, is barely cold in his grave.”

  “Eddie would want me to be happy, Jean,” Emma said.

  “Don’t you dare say that,” Jean said. “Don’t you dare bring my son into this?”

  To say that Jean was insulted was an understatement. Eddie had barely been dead four months, and here Emma was, parading her new boyfriend around as though nothing had happened. Well, something had happened. Jean had lost her son, and she wasn’t going to forget about him because Emma had found herself a new man.

  “I just thought the two of you should know,” Emma said. “The last thing I want to do is cause problems for anyone.”

  “Can you see it our point of view, love?” Derek asked.


  For once, Derek was siding with Jean. Even he could see that this was not right, or decent.

  “Derek, I have been so lonely,” Emma said. “And Charlie has helped me with coping with everything.”

  “I understand that,” Derek said. “Of course we do. We’ve had to struggle with losing Eddie and it’s been tough on all of us. But it’s just too soon, love.”

  “I’m sorry you feel that way,” Emma said. “Maybe you and Derek need to spend more time together. It’s obvious that Eddie’s death has come between you.”

  Jean’s rage was at the tip of her throat. “Don’t you talk about Derek and me? My marriage is none of your business.”

  “I didn’t mean to offend you,” Emma said. “I’m sorry.”

  “You’re not sorry at all,” Jean said.

  “Jean, please,” Derek intervened. “Emma, this is really too soon. Especially for the boys.”

  Derek was too soft on her, as he always was, and it was driving Jean crazy. There was nothing morally right about this. Emma had pushed the family too far. She hadn’t considered the effect her actions would have on Eddie’s children.

  What made it worse was that where everyone saw a struggling grieving widow, Jean saw a cold, calculating woman whom Eddie should never have gone near.

  “I can understand how you both feel,” Emma said. “But I am entitled to a life too. You have each other. Who have I got?”

  “Oh, don’t play the victim Emma. It doesn’t suit you,” Jean said. “You must have been planning this all along. Well, you’re not going to entertain your boyfriends in my son’s house.”

  Emma gazed at Jean for a while before she answered.

  “Your son is dead,” Emma said. “I’m going to live my life, and you are not going to stop me.”

  “We’ll see about that,” Jean said.

  “Jean?” Derek said.

  “No. This has gone on for long enough,” Jean said. “I want the boys. I want them to come and live with Derek and me. Then, you can do whatever you want with whoever you want.”

  Emma gave a smile that didn’t reach her eyes. “I’m sorry, but no. Those boys stay with me.”