Clowders

by Vanessa Morgan

  ***

  Jess was glad her husband was home earlier than usual. Apparently, the cats of Clervaux were all healthy. As it was quiet at the clinic, they let him go home as long as he was on standby in case something urgent came up.

  They used the extra time to make the house more enjoyable and to finish some of the chores Jess had a hard time doing alone.

  As they were hanging a large mirror in the hallway, Jess released the anxiety she'd felt bottling up ever since they'd arrived in town. “How are you liking Clervaux?” she asked.

  “It's so quaint, isn't it?” Aidan said. “Even though I have a job, I feel like I'm on vacation somehow.”

  “Don't you think there's something strange going on here?”

  “What do you mean?”

  Jess didn't immediately answer. How could she explain what she felt without sounding like a complete lunatic? She looked at the mirror they had affixed to the wall and moved it a little to the right. Anything to divert her mind for a few seconds. “You're going to think I'm crazy,” she finally said. She could hardly look him in the eyes. She was ashamed of telling him what she was experiencing because she knew in advance he wouldn't believe her.

  “Try me.”

  “Don't you have the feeling you're being watched since we arrived here?” Jess asked without betraying any of the anxiety that was slowly coming to a boil. “I mean, I'm not alone. E feels it, too. And the kids at her baking class are saying the same thing.”

  “Being watched?” He almost scoffed at her reasoning. “I think that's normal in such a small town. And I suppose they're extra curious about foreigners--”

  “No, I didn't mean the neighbors.” She hesitated and looked down. “I feel like there's a presence in this house.”

  “Is that how we're going to play it now?” His words were a flat monotone. Disbelieving. “Please don't convince our daughter of this crap, Jess.”

  “I'm not convincing her. She mentioned it before I ever said anything.”

  “Because, frankly, after everything you've come up with already in America, trying to convince me of something supernatural is not going to work.”

  “I'm not saying it's supernatural.”

  “Then what is it?”

  “I don't know.”

  “Let's talk about what this is really about, okay?”

  “I am telling you.”

  “You're not, Jess. What this is about is that you don't want to live here, and you're looking for ways to make that clear to me.” That hard edge was back, that tone in which he spoke to her when she first uttered her doubts about moving to Europe.

  “I never even mentioned going back.” For a moment, she doubted her own intentions. Was she unconsciously looking for an excuse to return to America? She definitely had a way of dramatizing things when she was unhappy. She didn't do it on purpose, but – no, she did feel a presence. And Eleonore had felt something as well.

  “Now, can we not argue?” Aidan said. “I'd like to unpack and enjoy my new home. And I wish you would enjoy it with me.”

  “I am enjoying it with you,” she said, her voice soothing. “Where should I hang the new artwork?” She picked one up from the pile leaning against the wall. It was a small, simplified drawing of Paris, depicting only its most important places of interest. The idea was to collect all of Aidan's favorite cities in one spot. Right now, they already had Paris, London, Rome, Stockholm, and New York.

  “Here, I think.” Aidan pointed above the table with the printer. “Let me help you with this.” He picked up his tool bag and pulled out a level, hammer, and nails.

  Jess held the picture against the wall. “Here okay?”

  “A little higher. Over to the left.” Aidan stood back, cocked his head to determine if the picture was straight. “That's good.”

  Jess watched as her husband marked the wall and banged in the nails.

  “I wish you'd try to be happy here,” Aidan said.

  “I am trying. Believe me, I am.”

  “It's still the first couple of weeks,” Aidan told her. “It's going to be fine.”

  Eleonore came into the hallway. “Mom? Dad? Are you screwing things up?”

  The remark took her by surprise. There was no way their five-year-old girl could know what they were going through. “What are you talking about, honey?”

  “The painting,” she said. “Are you screwing it up?”

  Now that he understood her, she had to laugh at the remark, although she wondered if she really was screwing things up again in their marriage. “We're not using a screwdriver but a hammer for this one,” she told her daughter. “You want to help us out?”

  “You bet,” Eleonore said.

  “E remembers a lot of vocabulary she shouldn't lately,” Jess told her husband, smiling. “We should be careful what we're saying when she's around because she repeats everything. Bad words included.”

  “Listen,” Aidan said. “I spoke to David today, and he thinks he can convince some of his friends in Luxembourg City to help you get a job. It wouldn't be exactly like your old one, but...”

  “Thank you,” Jess said.

  Aidan put his arms around his wife and brought her close. The sadness made her body wooden and unresponsive. “Everything is going to be fine,” he said, using the reassuring tone he often used to tell people in his cabinet about the life-threatening diseases of their pets.

  “Maybe E is right,” she said. “Maybe I am screwing things up again, but it's so hard for me.”

  ***

  That night, Jess awoke with a jump. She slowly managed to drift back to sleep, only to wake moments later, with her heart pounding.

  Once more, she had the feeling she was being watched. She tried to glance through the darkness and thought she saw a squatted figure on top of the wardrobe. She tried to adjust her eyes to the darkness, but all she could see were black blotches everywhere she looked.

  I'm imagining things again, she told herself. But she couldn't shake the feeling of dread. It clung to her as persistent as a migraine.

  Something was in the room with them. Again. She could feel it.

  Rolling over onto her back, she glanced around. Nothing seemed wrong here.

  But something was wrong. Somewhere. At this moment, she was sure of it.

  CHAPTER 8

  It was almost two o'clock at night, and the club was full to the brim. Several empty glasses stood on the LED cocktail tables. The waiter made regular rounds to pick up the empty glasses while the partygoers drank more with each passing minute. Everybody talked and laughed. Everybody was happy.

  Jess wished she'd stayed home. Clubbing wasn't her thing. The noise. The exuberance. She'd become way too old for this. Not that she'd ever felt at ease in such a place. She was a homebody. She needed quiet. Nothing made her happier than spending time in the kitchen or reading a good book. But as Aidan had wanted to go and insisted she come with him, she'd acquiesced.

  Aidan's colleague David stood with her at the table. He had been going on for over an hour about how much he was missing his ex-girlfriend. From what she understood, they had briefly been together over a decade ago, but he was still obsessed with her. There hadn't been other women either. Last week, he had added the girl on Facebook, but she hadn't accepted his request. Drama. “Why is she so mean?” he kept repeating. The more Vodka Red Bulls he drank, the more he sounded like a crybaby. Jess had tried to listen to him for a while out of politeness, but she couldn't focus on his moaning any longer, and her mind drifted off.

  Jess perched on the railing to look out over the dance floor. Through the purple and pink light effects, she saw how one level below them, Simon and his wife, Claire, were fighting. It didn't seem like they were happy together. Too bad. They were a gorgeous couple. Everything about them looked immaculate. Elegant.

  Lorenza and Aidan were dancing, seemingly having the time of their lives. Aidan looked suitably laid back in a pair of brown slipper shoes which he wore with jeans and a white shirt t
hat flashed a glimpse of his rugged, hairy chest. But there was something about that girl that Jess didn't like. Lorenza's sexuality didn't elude any of the men in this nightclub, including Aidan. He didn't seem to be able to take his eyes off her. He was always making conversation and trying hard to please. That he could be even remotely interested in a girl that moved and talked as if she were a teenager was incomprehensible. Did Aidan think that was sexy?

  Lorenza looked up and noticed Jess was lost in thought. She walked up to her, confident and smiling.

  “Come on. Don't be so stiff,” Lorenza said. “Why don't the two of you join in?”

  “I'm not that much of a dancer,” Jess replied.

  “What about you?” she asked David.

  “Drowning my sorrows,” he said, trying to sound as pitiful as possible.

  Jess couldn't help but notice David's cat T-shirt. It read: “I have a girlfriend cat.” She wondered if he wore it on purpose to make a statement.

  “You let that girl determine your life too much,” Lorenza exclaimed. She sounded like a psychotherapist. “No one has the right to destroy you. No one. You have to set your limits.”

  “I admire your strength.” He grabbed some pieces of cheese from the bowl on the table in front of him and started to nibble.

  Better replace “strength” with “apathy,” Jess thought. Without feelings, it's easy to be merciless.

  “Being emotionally stable is something you can learn, you know,” Lorenza continued. “It's nothing more than taking a decision: either you go through a complete breakdown or you tamp down your emotions and live only for yourself. Most people aren't worth the pain anyway.”

  Jess rubbed her arms as if she were cold. Even though brazen, carefree girls like Lorenza irritated her, she had struck a sensitive chord. She was right. Jess wasn't that different from David in that regard. She, too, let her wellbeing depend way too much on her husband. If she had lived for herself a little more, she wouldn't be in this club right now, and she definitely wouldn't be in Europe. Was Aidan worth all the sacrifices she made for him? She once thought he was, but seeing him flirt with someone like Lorenza forced her to put everything into question.

  “You know my secret weapon.” Lorenza stuck her drink in the air. “Margarita! You want one, too?”

  “No, thank you,” Jess said. “I've had enough alcohol already.”

  Lorenza looked at Jess with a look that said she was making a fool of herself.

  “Do it for me,” Lorenza said. She took one of the Apple Pie Mojitos from the table next to theirs and pushed it in Jess' hands.

  “We didn't pay for this,” Jess said.

  “So what? They won't notice.”

  Jess put back the glass. “It's not mine.”

  The DJ put on a new song, and everyone in the club started to cheer, Lorenza included. Jess looked at David who was almost falling asleep on the railing.

  “You're right,” Jess told Lorenza. “Others shouldn't dictate our lives.”

  Lorenza lost herself in the music and didn't hear Jess.

  ***

  It was a quarter past four in the morning. Jess wasn't sure how much longer she could last since the club kept getting hotter and the music louder. Her heart beat so fast from fatigue she had the impression it was going to give out at any moment.

  David had completely passed out in one of the club's sofas several hours ago.

  Simon and his wife, Claire, had joined Jess at the table. Simon's mood was agitated. He was getting on Jess' nerves, fussing over what he would or wouldn't drink and continuously requesting the use of Claire's cell phone charger.

  Jess was still not feeling sociable. She was exhausted and wanted to go to bed, but Aidan was nowhere to be found. Neither was Lorenza.

  “I brought you another glass of wine,” Claire said with a thick French accent. “I hope that's okay.”

  “Of course,” Jess replied. She'd already drunk way too much, but not touching the wine would be rude.

  “This wine's awful,” Simon said, and off he went, straight to the bar, probably to complain.

  Jess took a sip out of curiosity. The wine was good. Above average, actually. “Your husband seems tense. Everything's fine, I hope?”

  “He's always like that. He can be...” Claire paused and looked for the right word in English, which she didn't find. “Un fardeau.”

  Jess didn't understand the word but supposed it had to be “difficult to be with” or something similar. It made Jess smile, and she paused to acknowledge her.

  “When I don't take any notice of him, he shuts up after a while,” Claire said.

  “How long have you been together?”

  Claire sighed. “Since I was eighteen. I'm 47 tomorrow, well, today, actually.”

  “Happy birthday,” Jess said.

  Claire looked stunning for her age, with only a few tiny wrinkles around the eyes. She had probably some work done, but it looked natural and suited her. She was clad with high-waisted black pants and a white blouse, while her even-featured face was framed by a perfect cut of baby blonde hair that fell just below her shoulders in light waves. Jess supposed that maybe Claire felt obliged to be flawless as Simon was such a perfectionist.

  “Do you have children?” Jess asked.

  Claire took a long drag on her cigarette. Jess had observed that she had been smoking incessantly since they met.

  “Not anymore.” Her voice took on a slight edge. “We had a daughter – Camille. She killed herself two years and five months ago.”

  “My Goodness. That's horrible. I don't know what to say.”

  “I prefer not to talk about it if that's okay.” Her voice drifted into silence.

  “Sure.”

  “It's one of the reasons why Simon is so irritable. Life in Clervaux can be challenging,” Claire explained. “It's the town he hates. But he ended up transferring that hate onto human beings, cats, sun, rain, noise, wine, cigarettes, anything.”

  Jess wanted to ask why Simon chose to be a veterinarian if he hated cats, but she kept her interrogations to herself.

  Jess had a hard time keeping her mind on the conversation as she was more preoccupied with where Aidan was. Or more importantly... with whom? She hadn't seen him for a while now, and before that, he'd been chasing Lorenza the way a hungry dog followed his master.

  Did the fact that Lorenza said she only lived life for herself mean that she wouldn't care about seducing someone's husband? Probably.

  Lorenza's words sprang to mind again: “Most people aren't worth the pain anyway.” If Aidan cheated on her, he wasn't worth a single tear.

  Jess felt foolish that she hadn't already gone home and crawled into bed with a mug of tea and a book. She could have easily told Aidan to get back home with his colleagues.

  “Have you seen Aidan?” she asked Claire.

  She shook her head. “I'm going to get us another glass of wine.”

  ***

  Lorenza pitied Jess. That woman had no idea how easy it was to manipulate her husband. Aidan was exactly like other men; she was sure about that. No matter who they shared their lives with, they always want someone else - no character or morals whatsoever. She needed to pull the right strings, and it didn't matter anymore whether they were married or had kids or loved someone. By applying a few tactics, she never failed at unveiling their inner wishes and demons. Men deserved to be treated this way because they were nothing but selfish puppets waiting to be manipulated. They couldn't help themselves.

  She'd been on the other end of the string before, being cheated on over and over again. Because of the deceit and pain men had caused her, her self-esteem had taken a beating. People close to her had begun to ask her if she was okay because it was evident that she wasn't. She had initially tried to grab on to the few areas where it had seemed easy to take the upper hand. She would make herself irresistible. She'd regain control over how her boyfriends treated her by making herself physically perfect. She wanted to be the object of every man's
desire.

  It steered her into the right direction, but it wasn't enough. When she saw how sometimes even less attractive and uninteresting girls got to win, it was time to turn the tables. Now she would be the one who would mess up others' lives. People were cruel anyway, so they deserved it. To her surprise, that bitchiness turned out to be the secret ingredient to make men besotted with her. The more she didn't care, the more they cared about her. It was that easy. First, she had to arouse their passionate side – men were sexual creatures - but she couldn't care about them.

  She liked the process of enslaving these men. And then, out of the blue, right when they thought they couldn't fall any more in love with her, she called it quits.

  She didn't want Aidan any more than she wanted other people. It was a game. It was all about keeping your eye on the prize and eventually winning.

  And win she would.

  ***

  “Where are we going?” Aidan asked. He had no idea. Lorenza told him she was going to show him something exclusive.

  “Patience,” she said. “We're almost there.”

  He followed Lorenza down the corridors leading to the nightclub's offices. Were they allowed to be there? Probably not. But she whispered something into the doorman's ear after which he opened the door to yet another labyrinth of corridors and gave Lorenza a key. He had looked at Aidan like he was going to shoot him down the first occasion he had.

  Once they had passed security, they went down the stairs, and into a large corridor.

  “I'm not going to stay long,” Aidan said. “Jess might be looking for me. I don't want to upset her.”

  Lorenza ignored the remark. “We're here.” She stopped in front of a door and opened it with the key the doorman had given her.