Perfect Wives

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Perfect Wives Page 29

by Emma Hannigan


  ‘Well, as you’re all aware, Cameron has a habit of stepping out of line.’ Nobody commented. ‘I know you think I don’t notice, and I’ve no doubt some of you reckon he’s just unruly and needs a good clip around the ear.’ Still no comment. Francine took a sip of her coffee, and continued, ‘Carl and I have had him assessed. Cameron has ADD. We’re working with a professional and we hope to help him deal with his unusual behaviour in time.’

  Francine felt as if hands were gripping her throat as she struggled to go on.

  ‘The other thing is that I was made redundant in September. So there you have it, ladies.’

  ‘Francine, we’d no idea,’ Jane burst out.

  ‘How awful for all of you,’ Andrea added.

  ‘How can we help?’ Susan asked.

  ‘Sorry?’ Francine said, feeling utterly overwhelmed.

  ‘Tell us how we can try to make things better for you,’ Andrea said, putting an arm around Francine’s shoulders.

  Francine didn’t care that tears were dropping in a hot salty stream down her cheeks. She wouldn’t try to suppress her feelings any longer: pretending she was Mrs Perfect had gone horribly wrong.

  As she poured out her heart to the other women over the next half-hour, Francine felt more in control than she had for months.

  That day, instead of hiding at the back of the car park, she stood with the others once again, chatting.

  ‘Francine,’ Andrea called, as she was about to get into her car.

  ‘Yes?’

  ‘I’m so very sorry for being catty about Carl. I have an awful habit of gossiping and shooting my mouth off,’ she said sheepishly. ‘I don’t mean any harm and I really hate the thought that you don’t want to speak to me any more.’

  ‘You were quite nasty,’ Francine said honestly. ‘I thought you were my friend. I’d never say such awful things about you.’

  ‘I know you wouldn’t. I’m a bitch. I’ve no excuses, I’m just not a very nice person.’

  In spite of herself, Francine burst out laughing. ‘What can I say? I can’t be angry with you for ever. Besides, it’s bloody exhausting trying to ignore or avoid you all the time.’

  ‘I’m like a bad smell,’ she said, elbowing Francine. ‘If it helps, you can tell everyone what I did so they all know what a bitch I am.’

  ‘Oh, no.’ Francine was shocked at the very idea. ‘I wouldn’t get any pleasure out of that. In fact, it would make me feel even worse.’

  ‘Sorry,’ Andrea said, as she lowered her eyes to the floor. ‘Of course you wouldn’t do that. You’ve too much class.’

  ‘Give me a hug,’ Francine said. ‘Water under the bridge?’

  ‘Thank you,’ Andrea said humbly. ‘I wasn’t joking when I said you’re a better person than I am.’

  ‘Ah, go on out of that.’ Francine laughed. ‘Bitch,’ she whispered behind her hand, and winked.

  Perhaps her good mood had rubbed off on the children – they weren’t fighting that evening. Carl had phoned to let her know he’d collected the puppy and, bursting with excitement, Francine had found it almost impossible not to tell them.

  ‘Hi, everyone, I’m home!’ Carl called from the front door, as they milled around in the kitchen getting ready for dinner.

  ‘Hi, Dad,’ Cara called back, as she dumped the cutlery on the table.

  ‘Hi,’ Conor yelled.

  ‘Oh, Dad!’ Cameron shrieked. He’d run into the hallway to greet his father.

  They all rushed out to find out what was going on and squealed in unison. Carl placed the puppy on the floor, then stood back to let the children cuddle and make friends with him.

  ‘Oh, Carl, he’s a little dote!’ Francine exclaimed. The puppy ran up and down, yapping excitedly, skidding into the wall. ‘He’s a bit like the pup in the toilet-tissue advert!’

  Instinctively the children threw themselves on the floor and called out to him. Instead of being nervous of his new surroundings or worried by the strangers, the puppy bounded around giving out delighted licks. Within minutes he’d christened the kitchen floor and followed it up with a little puddle in the dining room.

  ‘We need to show him where the newspaper is,’ Carl instructed. ‘I’ve been assured by the breeder that he understands to pee on folded paper. She was so helpful, I must say. He’s had his vaccinations, too, which is fantastic. He needs his booster jab next week and then he’ll be good to go outside.’

  The new red kidney-shaped dog bed with the paw-print-decorated lining took pride of place in a corner of the kitchen as Cara and Cameron worked together to fill the puppy’s dishes with food and water.

  ‘Let me give him a drink,’ Cameron said.

  ‘Put it down carefully for him,’ Carl said. ‘Now, we all have to remember he’s only a baby and we’ve to be kind and calm with him.’

  ‘What are we going to call him?’ Francine asked.

  ‘Piddles!’ Craig giggled.

  ‘Too rude,’ Francine pointed out.

  ‘Blondie,’ Cara suggested.

  ‘That’s too girlie,’ said Conor.

  ‘What about Poo? He just did one behind the sofa!’ Cameron yelled.

  ‘Oh, Jesus!’ Francine said.

  ‘That’s a terrible name.’ Carl laughed.

  The commotion continued all through dinner until the puppy finally fell asleep at just after nine when Francine managed to cajole the children up to bed.

  ‘He’s gone to sleep now, so we all need to do the same,’ she told them.

  ‘But we can’t go to bed until he has a name.’ Cameron pouted. ‘I’m staying in the kitchen with him. He’ll be scared all on his own.’

  ‘He needs to learn to sleep in his bed just the way we sleep in ours,’ Carl coaxed.

  ‘He has to have a name!’ Cameron shouted.

  As if a switch had been flicked, a tantrum kicked off. Cameron lay on the hall floor and screamed.

  The puppy woke up and, frightened, began to howl.

  ‘Oh dear!’ Francine said. ‘Now look what’s happened. You’ll have to stop yelling, Cameron. You’re terrifying that poor pup.’

  ‘Let’s call him Howie – that’s what he seems to be saying,’ Cara suggested, blocking her ears. ‘For a small puppy he can make an amazing din.’

  Right at that moment Francine would’ve agreed to call him Satan if that could end the noise.

  ‘Cameron, Howie is his name and it’s bedtime!’ Carl said.

  Cameron quietened and lay still on the hall floor. The puppy ventured over to him and snuffled in his ear.

  ‘His nose is all wet and sniffy,’ Cameron said, and smiled. The pup licked his cheek and plopped down on top of him.

  ‘Cameron, he’s trying to tell you it’s sleep time,’ Carl said.

  ‘Howie, we need to go in our beds,’ Cameron said. The puppy closed his eyes and stayed where he was on Cameron’s chest.

  ‘Leave them for a minute while we get the others settled,’ Francine whispered to Carl.

  The bedtime routine was shorter without Cameron.

  ‘Night, sweetheart,’ Francine said, hugging Cara.

  ‘Night, Mum, and thank you for letting us get Howie. He’s the cutest thing I’ve ever seen. Can we get a pink lead with some diamonds in it for when I’m bringing him around the estate?’

  ‘I don’t see why not,’ Francine said, stroking her daughter’s head.

  ‘Do you think he’ll like catching a ball?’ Craig asked, his wide eyes twinkling in the darkened room.

  ‘He’ll love it, sweetheart,’ Francine said. ‘Maybe you and I could go to the pet superstore and find a special one for him. You could be in charge of training him to fetch. From my research online, it’s important for puppies to have proper training from the start. If we all have a specific job that we do with Howie, I reckon he’ll learn very quickly.’

  ‘I think he’s very smart,’ Craig decided.

  ‘Of course he is. He’s ours, a member of Team Hennessy,’ Francine said, kissing him.


  ‘Night, Mum.’ Craig yawned.

  Conor’s light was still on and he was looking a little worried. ‘Do you think Howie will be all right here with us?’ he asked.

  ‘I hope so, pet,’ Francine said, sitting on the side of his bed.

  ‘I’m just thinking about how I’d feel if someone took me away from you and Dad. I hope Howie’s not homesick.’

  ‘It’s so lovely of you to think that, Conor, but I’m sure he knows we’re all happy because he’s come to be our dog. He might find it a little strange at first, but he’ll settle in really quickly.’

  ‘If we all pet him and play with him lots and lots he’ll know we care, won’t he?’ Conor asked.

  ‘Sure he will. Animals are very clever, especially dogs. He’ll pick up on our love and I know he’ll be the most spoiled little puppy in the world.’

  ‘Should I stay downstairs in the kitchen with him tonight? I don’t want him to think he’s been left all alone in a strange place,’ Conor said.

  ‘No, darling. You’re the kindest boy to think of that, but he really will learn very quickly that night-time is for sleeping and that we’re all right here in our rooms,’ Francine explained.

  ‘Thanks for letting us get a pet, Mum.’ Conor was looking less anxious now.

  As she descended the stairs Francine stopped in her tracks. Cameron was still sprawled on the floor with the puppy beside him. As he chattered to Howie and stroked his little body, she saw that a new calm had crept over her youngest child.

  Francine felt fresh guilt. The children had been asking for a dog for years but she’d always dismissed the idea, thinking only of the dirt it would leave around the house. The thought of excrement in the garden still made her shudder, but there was no denying that Nuala had been spot on to suggest they add a dog to their family.

  ‘Will we go up to bed now?’ she asked Cameron, as she stooped down to him.

  ‘Yes, Mum,’ Cameron answered, with tired, glassy eyes.

  Howie was floppy and relaxed too, so Carl lifted him into his new bed as Francine led Cameron up the stairs and tucked him in.

  By midnight, though, Francine and Carl were having second thoughts. Howie was living up to his name. The children were taking it in turns to come into their room worrying and even sobbing about the puppy.

  ‘He sounds so scared and sad,’ Conor lamented. ‘Please let me go and sleep with him just for tonight.’

  ‘I’ll have him in my bed,’ Cara begged.

  ‘The breeder and the puppy book I bought agree that we must start as we mean to go on,’ Carl said firmly. ‘I know it’s upsetting, but he’s a baby and he’ll learn. This time next week he’ll be familiar with the routine and he’ll love his cosy bed.’

  By one o’clock, Francine was ready to sneak down and sit with the puppy for the rest of the night. She pulled on her dressing-gown and padded into the kitchen to fill a hot-water bottle. According to the book, if pups had a source of heat, they felt as if they were curled up with their mother.

  As she wrapped the hot-water bottle in a towel to prevent him chewing it or burning himself, Howie decided he wanted to play.

  ‘Oh, Howie, please settle down. It’s late and I can’t deal with you,’ she said.

  He responded by grabbing a corner of the towel and dragging it backwards as he wagged his tail and shook his head, growling.

  ‘Here, Howie! Good boy,’ Francine said, trying to catch hold of him and sit him back in his bed. Eventually, she managed to contain him inside the kitchen. She slid out into the hall and tried to calm him by whispering, through the closed door, ‘Shush, Howie! Good boy, go to sleep.’

  ‘How-how-howieeee,’ he yelped.

  Opening the door a crack, Francine watched as he scraped like a mad thing.

  She bent down, picked him up and carried him into the living room. There she plonked herself on the sofa. Petting his silky head, she felt him relax. She propped the hot-water bottle into the crook of the couch and gently lifted him on to it. He opened his eyes again and looked at her sleepily.

  ‘Good boy, you go to sleep now,’ she soothed, stroking him again. His head flopped on to his paws and he sighed deeply. He was ready for a snooze.

  Francine was at odds with herself. She scolded the children for putting their shoes near the couch yet she was allowing the dog to sleep there. But, quite frankly, she would’ve let him lie on her second-generation linen tablecloth dressed in her one and only Chanel suit if it meant he’d stop the racket.

  The upside of the situation was that she was so wiped out by the time she slipped into bed that Francine fell into a deep sleep for the first time in months.

  As dawn broke the next morning the Hennessys realised they didn’t need an alarm clock any more: Howie’s barking and crying had jolted them all awake.

  Groaning, Francine squinted at the alarm clock. ‘It’s not even six yet,’ she croaked at Carl.

  ‘He’s an enthusiastic little fella, that’s for sure,’ he said, grinning. ‘Anyway, I might as well get up and at it!’ Carl had always been a morning person and could go from dead-to-the-world to raring-to-go in ten seconds.

  ‘Hey, boy!’ Cameron said, as he plopped down the stairs on his bottom to open the living-room door. The puppy lolloped up to him, delighted to see some form of human life.

  Carl stopped dead in his tracks as he came down the stairs after his shower. Bits of fabric he recognised were strewn up the hallway, with yellow stuff mixed in with it. ‘Oh, holy God.’ Howie had shredded the couch during the night.

  ‘Do you think Howie’s in trouble?’ Cameron asked, looking a bit worried.

  ‘Bring him into the kitchen and we’ll close the living-room door for the moment.’

  Not sure how to break the news to his wife, Carl did something he wasn’t proud of. He clicked the front door open and slipped out to work.

  Chapter 27

  That Friday morning, Jodi turned off the alarm clock before it had a chance to activate the radio. She felt like she’d been drinking Red Bull all night. Wired and twitchy, she was glad it was finally time to wake Saul. ‘Hey, buddy,’ she said, creeping into his room. Curled around his favourite teddy, Saul looked like a little angel. Love surged through her as she perched on the edge of his bed. His eyes fluttered open.

  ‘Mum,’ he murmured. ‘I’m tired. Can I stay at home today?’

  ‘No can do. School calls,’ she murmured. She knew that once he was properly awake he’d be ready to rock and roll. He never slept past nine o’clock, no matter where they were.

  ‘I love you so much,’ she said softly.

  ‘I love you too,’ he said, stretching and turning on to his back.

  Jodi felt sick as she pictured Mac boarding his flight in London. This was it, the day she’d avoided for so long. It was showdown moment, whether she liked it or not. Today, the past would be put to rest. If Mac insisted on playing dirty and going for a kiss-and-tell story, so be it.

  Saul was in flying form once he’d woken up properly. Having finished his breakfast he was as giddy as a goat. ‘It’ll be fun at Cameron’s house today. His mum said she’s going to bake yummy chocolate cake for us.’

  ‘Will you keep me a piece?’ Jodi said, grabbing him and blowing a raspberry on the side of his neck. Saul squealed and ran around the kitchen table.

  Her phone pinged with a new text message. ‘Oh, wow! Guess what?’ she said to Saul.

  ‘What?’

  ‘Cameron’s got a puppy and you’re going to be the first of all his friends to meet him later!’

  Saul punched the air. ‘It’s going to be the bestest day ever. Cake and a puppy!’

  When Jodi got home from dropping Saul at school, she tried to decide what to wear. She didn’t want Mac to think she’d gone to much trouble, but part of her wanted him to know he’d cocked up by losing her. Her leather jeans were the right balance of sexy and cool, teamed with a cream silk shirt and a string of Chanel pearls. She finished the look with biker boots.


  Jodi, you’re a chick with attitude.

  It was irrelevant that she felt like puking and bursting into tears.

  Her beloved Mini helped quell her nerves as she drove to the plush Dublin hotel to meet him. Pulling up at the door, she handed her keys to the valet.

  ‘Hello, Ms Ludlum,’ he said. ‘I’d heard you were living back on Irish soil, but I never believe what I read in the papers.’

  ‘You’re right not to, but in this case it’s all true! I’m living in Wicklow and love it.’ She flashed him a warm smile as she read his name badge. ‘Thanks for taking care of the car, Josh. I won’t be long.’

  As it happened, Mac was on the other side of the enormous revolving glass doors and was waving to her. She adopted a relaxed air as she approached him.

  ‘Baby, you look stunning as always.’ He pulled her to him, making sure that everyone in the place knew she was there to meet him.

  ‘Calm down, Mac,’ Jodi hissed, although the smile never left her lips. ‘I’ve a meeting room booked. Shall we?’ Untangling herself very obviously from his grasp, she strode to the reception desk. ‘Hi, there. I’m Jodi Ludlum and I have a small conference room booked for a quick meeting,’ she said, loudly and clearly.

  ‘Yes, Ms Ludlum,’ the receptionist answered, as she tried not to stare at Jodi. ‘It’s all ready for you, if you’d like to follow me. Would you like refreshments?’ She showed them into the room, with a vast table and a PowerPoint presentation area.

  ‘I’ll have some sparkling water, please,’ Jodi said.

  ‘Can I have a steak sandwich, a portion of chips and a pint of your finest Guinness?’ Mac said, without looking the girl in the eye. ‘I always have to drink some of the black stuff when I’m here. Ain’t that so, babe?’ He winked at Jodi.

  ‘If you say so,’ Jodi said, as if she were dealing with an errant toddler.

  The girl left, promising to return with their order, and Mac sidled over to Jodi. ‘Alone at last,’ he schmoozed.

  ‘Cut the crap, Mac,’ said Jodi. ‘What do you want?’

  She turned to face him, put her hands on her hips and looked him straight in the eye. Her heart thudded and fear made the hairs stand up on the back of her neck. Yet she forced herself to stay calm.

 

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