Jean clicked on Simon’s profile, and the first thing she noticed was that he’d died. The pinned message on the top of his page was a notification of his death. He was 37 years old. Searching his photographs, Jean scrolled through many pictures of him with various people at social events. Until she came to a picture of him—dressed in a suit standing next to a bride. His bride, Jean presumed. He was looking into her eyes and seemed in love. But when Jean looked closer at the bride, her heart thumped when she realised it was Emma.
Frantically, Jean scrolled more pictures of the happy couple, and there was no doubt Emma was the bride. She’d been married before. And this Simon, her first husband had also died. Clicking on Cathy’s profile, Jean searched for any clues that Cathy and Simon may be related. There were pictures of Simon in Cathy’s profile with posts notifying her friends of her love—for her son.
Further inspecting Cathy’s profile, Jean discovered from her profile that Cathy worked at an office in Leeds. Jean glanced at the clock, and the time was 3:15 p.m. Jean logged off and grabbed her coat, scarf and boats from the hall. She’d hang around in town and wait until Cathy finished work at around p.m.
This wasn't a coincidence. Jean had to find out what happened to Simon.
Jean was standing outside of the call centre building, watching several people arrive and leave. She recognised Cathy immediately walking towards her.
“Hi?” Jean uttered nervously.
The woman stopped, deliberately lowering her head. “I’m sorry, do I know you?”
Jean’s jaw clenched as she stared at the woman in front of her. “My name is Jean Saunders. I need to talk to you.”
“About what? You’re not selling anything, are you? If you are, I’m not interested.” Cathy walked on.
“I need to talk to you about your son, Simon.”
Cathy’s body twitched as she faced Jean with wide-open eyes. “How did you know Simon? Who are you?”
“I’m Eddie’s mother.”
“Who’s Eddie?”
“He was my son. He was also Emma’s husband. Emma Chigwell.”
Cathy stumbled backwards. Regaining her composure, she continued to walk. Jean followed her.
“Leave me alone,” Cathy said.
“I need to talk to you.”
“What do you need to talk to me? How did you even find me?”
“I saw the pictures on Facebook. I wouldn’t be here if I weren’t desperate.”
“I’m sorry if you’re any trouble, my love, but I don’t see how I can help.”
“My son was killed in a car accident.”
“I’m sorry to hear that,” Cathy said. “But I don’t see what this has to do with me?”
“I think Emma killed him.”
“I don’t know any Emma.”
“I saw the pictures. Emma married your son, and then he died. How did he die?”
“I don’t have to tell you that. I don’t know you.”
“Nobody will listen. Emma has got into everyone’s head. Did she do the same thing to you? What happened?”
“I never want to see you again. And I don’t want to see Emma.”
“Why?”
“Drop it. I can have you done for harassment. Don’t contact me again.”
Cathy walked on and left Jean standing outside the call centre building. Jean’s breathing sped up, prompting her to find a bench and sit down. As she watched hundreds of people strolling past she thought about Cathy. That woman knew something. And she was Jean’s only hope in proving Emma as not only a manipulator—but a killer.
Days later, Jean was hanging washing on the line in the garden. She and Derek were barely speaking, but that was fine by her. The trust had gone between them. Jean could scarcely look at him let alone touch him.
As Jean brought the empty laundry basket back into the kitchen, the doorbell sounded. Sighing and not in the mood for visitors, Jean opened the front door and was surprised to find Cathy Baker standing in front of her.
“Hello?” Cathy said.
“Hi?”
“Can I come in?”
Jean showed Cathy into the hall. “This is a surprise. How did you find me?”
“Facebook.”
“I see. I’m sorry about the other day.”
“No, I should be the one apologising. I should never have spoken to you like that. I suppose you want to know what I’m doing here.”
“You said you never wanted to see me again.”
“I didn‘t mean that. I think there’s something you need to know about Emma.”
Jean led Cathy into the lounge and then went into the kitchen to make coffee. When she joined her, Cathy was wiping her nose as though she’d been crying. The colour was draining from her face.
“Are you all right?” Jean asked, sitting beside her.
“I’m sorry.”
“Don’t apologise. Drink this, might feel better.”
Cathy took the cup of coffee and sipped.
“When did your son die?”
“Two months ago now. It still hurts so much.”
“It never leaves you.”
“I saw your son’s wedding pictures online. That was when I recognised Emma. Was she and Simon married long?”
Cathy cleared her throat. “Two years. I knew it wouldn’t last, and I warned him. He was in love with her. Nothing I said could have changed that.”
Jean felt a quiver in her stomach. “I have to know everything there is to know about her.”
“You won’t like it.”
“Please.”
“She seemed like a nice girl at first. But she and Simon married quickly. Simon had his own Internet business. He was doing well for himself. I was very proud of him. But then he spent lots of money on Emma. Shoes, handbags, expensive trips to salons and holidays. He changed. Everything was all about Emma. She wanted to move to a house in the country, and Simon agreed. He sold his business and his house and moved in with me until they found somewhere. And that was when I realised something was wrong. Simon caught an infection, so he had to stay indoors. But Emma didn’t seem to care. She went out with her friends, coming back late at night. She seemed to lose interest in him. Simon was so upset by it all. It was like nothing he did was ever good enough for her. It made him worse. And then out of the blue, she announces she wants a divorce. Just like that. Simon was heartbroken.”
“And then what happened?”
“He wouldn’t give her one. He reckoned the marriage was worth fighting for. I told him to let her have what she wants. Anything was better than all this upset. I could see what Emma’s behaviour was doing to him. But he was so in love with her. He wouldn’t listen to me.”
“Did she leave him?”
“Eventually. Emma told him she didn’t love him anymore. But what I couldn’t understand was why? Why did she suddenly go off him? It couldn’t have been because he got ill.”
“How did Simon die?”
“He went out shopping, and he collapsed in the supermarket. Just like that. By the time the ambulance had arrived, he was dead.”
Jean stretched her hand forward as Cathy cried.
“I’m so sorry.”
“She cleared him out and took all of his money. She’d opened a secret bank account and had been transferring money into it for months. We couldn’t afford to pay for the funeral. She sold all the cars, and she got the money for the house. She left us practically destitute. And that’s why she wanted a divorce. She’d got what she wanted. Emma didn’t love Simon. She was using him.”
Jean stood up and went to the fireplace. Her body was cold.
“She’s done this before.”
“I’m not worried about the money. But my husband died because of the stress. It got too much for him. I’ll never forgive her for that.”
“Someone needs to stop her,” Jean said. “She can’t get away this.”
“People like her always get away it.”
“Look at what she’s done to you. What she’s d
oing to my family.”
“Nobody believed me and nobody believes you.”
“What about the police?”
“She hasn’t committed a crime.”
“I know she caused the accident. Eddie would still be alive if it weren’t for her.”
“To everyone else, we’re just a couple of grieving mothers whose sons happen to marry Emma Chigwell. We can’t prove anything. She’s too good at covering her tracks.”
Chapter 29
Cathy left Jean’s house at 4 p.m. Jean wanted to talk to Derek even though they’d barely communicated in days. Derek said he’d be working late thought she’d surprise him. They’d both said hurtful things, and she wanted to clear the air.
When she arrived at Derek’s office, the receptionist, Sally, greeted her with a nervous smile.
“Hello, Mrs Saunders?”
“Hello Sally, is Derek available?”
“He’s just—”
“It’s okay. I’ll just go through.”
When Jean reached Derek’s office, she heard a woman laughing. Pushing open the door, Jean clutched her stomach as she saw Derek sitting on top of the desk with a woman on his lap
“Jean?” Derek said nervously.
“How could you?” Jean stuttered as she glared at the half-naked woman.
She ran outside and leant against the wall. The cold air stung her cheeks. Luckily, a bus pulled up just as Derek was running out of the office to stop her. She boarded the bus and ignored his pleas and his shame-faced cries as the bus pulled away.
Jean was sitting in the lounge when she heard the front door open. After several cups of tea, nausea and humiliation still fired through her body
“I thought you’d be in bed,” Derek said.
“How do you expect me to sleep with all this going on?” Jean asked.
“I’m sorry.”
“You’ve been having an affair.”
“Yes.”
“You’re a liar and a cheat.”
“It’s not that simple.”
“It is to me.”
Derek sat down at the dining room table. He covered his face with his hands.
“What can I say?”
“You lied. You said that woman was a client.”
“She was.”
“She’s your lover.”
“Not then, not when you saw us in the restaurant. She was a client then, I swear to you. Nothing was going on.”
“Why should I believe you?”
“Because it’s the truth. We weren’t sleeping together; then, she was just a client, and I desperately needed her business. After you made that scene in the restaurant, I called her to make another appointment. I needed to salvage something because the firm is barely keeping our heads above water. So I called her, and we went for lunch again, and we just talked. I talked about Eddie, and she told me about her life, and we clicked.”
“You clicked.”
“Yes, Jean, we did. Believe it or not, it wasn’t sexual. Not at first. But she was someone to talk to. I was at my wit’s end. I didn’t know what else to do.”
“You’re making excuses for what you’ve done. I know things have been tough for us. But I didn’t go out and had an affair. I’ve always been loyal to you. Even when my father was against us being together, I stood up for you. And now you’ve thrown me out with the garbage.”
Derek stood up and approached Jean. “That’s not true. I never meant to hurt you. I never thought I’d be the man to cheat on his wife, but it’s not as simple as that. She understood me. I know that sounds like the thing a cheating husband would say, but it’s the truth. I lost you, and I lost myself. I felt like I was drowning, Jean.”
Jean’s stomach was queasy, and her hands wouldn’t stop shaking.
“I knew something was wrong. But I never thought you’d cheat on me.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Sorry changes nothing. How can I ever trust you again?”
“You said you wished I’d died instead of Eddie.”
“I was upset. You told me that my son practically hated me. Is that why you went off with that woman? To punish me?”
“Of course not.”
“Then why?”
“I’ve told you. She listened.”
Jean stood up and went into the kitchen. She needed water. After she’d drunk a glass, she turned to Derek who was standing by the kitchen door.
“Did Emma know about your affair?”
Derek’s chin dipped to the chest. “Yes, she did.”
“How long had she known?”
“Ever since it started. She caught us.”
“That’s why you’ve been defending her?”
“Not exactly. I thought you were hard on Emma.”
“Did she blackmail you?”
“Not exactly.”
Tears stung Jean’s eyes, and she sniffled. “She used the boys, didn’t she? That’s why I’ve not been seeing them. You bargained with her to stop her from exposing your affair.”
“You can’t make me feel any worse I already do.”
“Get out.”
“Where am I supposed to go?”
Jean’s eyes clouded with swarms of dark red. “I don’t care. I may have lost my grandchildren because of you. I said get out of my house now.”
Derek repeatedly swallowed as though he was fighting for the right thing to say. Knowing Jean was in no mood to talk, he sloped upstairs, grabbed some of his belongings and left. Jean never slept that night. She doubted if she’d sleep for a while.
“What do you mean you can’t make it?” Beatrice asked the following afternoon as Jean was sitting on her bed. She hadn’t gotten dressed.
“I’m just not feeling well.”
“What’s wrong?”
“It’s nothing for you to worry about.”
“Now I am worried.”
“Derek’s been having an affair.”
“What? Are you sure?”
“I caught them in his office. I asked him to leave.”
“Would you like me to come over? I’m got free time this afternoon.”
“I want to be on my own.”
“Jean—“
“Please, Beatrice. I need to be on my own.”
Jean hung up. It humiliated her but didn’t want sympathy. Later that afternoon, she made it to the shops. She was out of basics like milk and bread and didn’t want to go to the main supermarket. On her way back, Emma was standing at the traffic lights about to cross the road. She pretended she hadn’t seen Jean and picked up the pace as though she was rushing somewhere. Jean hurried behind her until she caught her up.
“Emma? I need to talk to you.”
Emma stood rigid with her shoulders back. “Have you been following me?”
“No, I haven’t.”
“What do you want?”
“I know about Derek’s affair, and I know you blackmailed him.”
A smirk crept across her face. “Is this what Derek told you?”
“You blackmailed him and used it to stop me seeing the boys?”
Emma forged ahead, a sinister grin appearing on her lips. “I do not understand what you’re talking about.”
Jean chased behind her. “Maybe you know about what you did to Cathy Baker and her family.”
Emma swung around. “What?”
“I’ve spoken to Cathy. I know what you did to her son. You took all of his money and literally broke his heart. Is that what you did to Eddie?”
“You’re mad aren’t you?”
“I’ve got your number.”
“Great. Call me sometime. I’d rather you didn’t. I’ll be too busy looking after your grandchildren.”
Jean coasted behind Emma as she walked. “I also know what you did to Rachel. Do you honestly think I want you anywhere near those boys?”
“You’re boring me now, Jean.”
“I want you to give them to me.”
“I want you to leave me alone. The boys don’t need yo
u, Jean.”
“How much?”
“What?”
“I said how much?”
Emma stopped walking. Her lips slightly parted and she edged closer. “You’re offering me money?”
“Yes.”
“I thought you were skint?”
“I’ll find it.”
“You’ll find two-hundred-grand?”
Jean closed her eyes and took a calming breath, but it was no use. A hot flush raged through her.
“Give me some time. And I’ll get your money.”
Jean quivered with nerves as she witnessed a sly, cunning smile curl across Emma’s face.
“You’ve got a week. Bring me the money, and you have your precious grandsons. The little brats are getting on my nerves, anyway.”
Emma’s heels clicked loudly against the pavement as she strutted away.
Crushing pains attacked Jean’s chest as she turned and made her way home.
Chapter 30
That evening, Jean called Derek and asked to come around to the house. He probably thought she’d wanted to talk about their marriage, but there was only one thing on her mind.
“You said it was urgent,” he said, standing in the kitchen.
“I want us to sell the house,” Jean said.
Derek laughed nervously. “What?”
“I want us to sell the house. We’d get a good price for it. I’ve been researching online.”
“What’s brought this on?”
“It will help us.”
“Help us do what?”
“Get rid of Emma. She wants two hundred and fifty thousand pounds. We’d get the boys. Eddie’s boys. She’d be out of our lives.”
“Jean, have you gone stark raving mad?”
“That’s what she wants. I saw her this afternoon, and I agreed.”
“She asked you for money?”
“That was her price.”
“It doesn’t make sense.”
“All that makes sense is that she will leave us alone. Wouldn’t that be wonderful? To have an Emma free life?”
Derek shook his head. “None of this makes any sense.”
“Will you stop saying that?”
“What do you expect me to say?”
The Perfect Wife Page 18
