Audrey stops laughing at last, glancing over at Paula in the passenger seat. ‘I think you’re the one scaring her, Teddy,’ she shrieks, but Paula feels the car’s speed slow a little. ‘I didn’t realise you’d already told her the biggest secret of The Lottery Winner Widows Club.’ She pauses. ‘Are you OK, Paula darling? Don’t be frightened, we only murder awful husbands. And you obviously know all about that, don’t you, my darling?’
Paula glances wild-eyed over at Audrey who is – for once – watching the road. ‘I didn’t kill John,’ she says, finding her voice at last. ‘Did you two really . . . Did you honestly . . . Did you do it?’
There is quiet in the car, save for the sound of the roaring motor and howling wind. Beneath her, Teddy reaches forward to stroke the dog’s ears. After another moment, she breathes out lightly into Paula’s hair. ‘My husband was a piece of shit. A gaslighting asshole. When I said I wanted adivorce, he said he’d never let me go and held my hand over an open flame.’ She shakes her head, gripping her left fingers with her right hand. ‘I look back at the me I was when I met him and can’t believe it’s the same person. I really thought he was my Mr Darcy. He turned out to be more Mr Asshole.’
‘Mr Darsehole,’ Audrey adds solemnly.
‘Mr Dasshole,’ Teddy agrees.
‘No,’ Audrey replies sternly. ‘The pun doesn’t work in your accent. It’s Mr Darsehole or it’s nothing.’
Teddy rolls her eyes. ‘Whatever. MrDarsehole.’ She pauses and her breathing slows. ‘I told him he’d never get to touch me again and then I caved in his temple. The rest of it you already know. Mr Darsehole’s been under the patio a couple of years now.’
The driving gets worse as Audrey picks up the thread. ‘My husband was ill for a long time.’ She gives Paula a penetrating look, ignoring the road. ‘When my children were young, he was ill. And when I say ill, I mean he wassick. He did things a father never should.’ She takes a moment. ‘I didn’t know. I found out later, when we were already too old.’ Clouds pass across her face, then she brightens. ‘But it wasn’t too late to do something about it. Because by then he was ill physically as well. His heart, such a shame. He needed a lot of looking after. He was on all this medication. It was hard to keep track of all of it, you know?’ The car’s speed picks up again as she continues, ‘Do you know what happens when you take too much heart medication, Digitalis, Paula?’ The dog barks and Paula rubs its ears. It is as much for her own comfort as the dog’s. Audrey continues blithely, ‘When you have more than ten milligrams of the stuff, you get all drowsy and dizzy. You start hallucinating and apparently some people see allkinds of fun colours! It sounds quite a nice experience actually, doesn’t it? Oh, but then you die. Whoops.’ She pouts, her eyes twinkling.
‘Whoops indeed,’ Teddy adds dryly. ‘That was a little over five months ago, right, Audrey?’ She nods. ‘Then we met and decided to put together this club. The Lottery Winners Widows Club.’
‘Do you think that sounds a bit bleak?’ Audrey frowns. ‘Maybe we should be The Lottery Winners Single Gals Club!’ She cackles. ‘You know I got myself straight onto Bumble after getting rid of Harold. But everyone I matched with immediately asked for money to save a dying relative or a pet. My daughter said it’s quite a common scam and they target vulnerable old ladies. I was very upset she’d called me vulnerable.’
‘Yes, it’s called romance fraud,’ Paula confirms. ‘I saw a show all about it on Netflix calledLove Rat.’ She swallows. ‘I’ve watched a lot of telly since I lost John. I haven’t done much else.’
‘Ilikethe name, The Lottery Winners Widows Club,’ Teddy says firmly.
‘It’s a bit clunky-sounding – maybe a bit long?’ Paula offers. ‘Perhaps The Widows Club would be simpler?’
‘But that’s the depressing part!’ cries Audrey. ‘We should at least emphasise the lottery win.’
‘Do you even need a group name?’ Paula asks quietly and Audrey jerks the wheel around a corner.
‘Of course we do, my darling!’ She shoots her a look. ‘And it’swe. You’re a member now. You’re one of us, Paula. There’s no escaping us!’ She says this gleefully, adding, ‘We’reThe Lottery Winner Widows Club! We’re in it together.’ The wayshe says this sends cortisol shooting through Paula. They’re in it together. Inwhatexactly?
‘And hopefully after today, we’ll have a couple more members,’ Teddy says as Paula strains against the seatbelt.
‘Is that what you meant before? About going on a recruitment drive?’
She feels Teddy nod. ‘Yes, we’ve found two more women who won the lottery and offed their husbands. And we’re going to see them right now.’
Audrey giggles, jerking the wheel round a corner. ‘You wouldn’t think there would be so many of us, would you, darling?’
Paula shakes her head, but it is not meant as an answer, just bewilderment. How did she get pulled into all this?
‘It’s only an hour to Buckinghamshire,’ Teddy tells her. ‘That’s where Maisie lives. She actually went to prison for killing her husband after they won the lottery, but she was released on appeal. Lawyer error, I hear. Now she lives in a lovely big house in Beaconsfield, enjoying the high life.’
‘How do you know all this?’ Paula murmurs.
Audrey raises her eyebrows, her white hair wild about her face. ‘We have our ways, my darling. And Maisie went really rather public about her situation.’ She glances over, her eyebrows still high. ‘As did you, Paula. You’ve not been terribly subtle with all this business, have you, eh?’
Paula coughs, choking on all the words she would like to say.
‘And once we’ve convinced Maisie to join our group,’ Teddy continues, ‘we’ll head on over to Cambridge. It’s just over an hour to reach Ivy Kirk. She’s been through a lot and she’s only twenty-something, poor thing.’
‘Poor thing?’ Paula enquires, wondering what horrors this Ivy has endured.
Teddy tuts. ‘Yes, poor thing. Being in your twenties is the worst.’
Audrey clucks in agreement, then continues after a moment, ‘So what happened with your husband?’ She nods at Paula. ‘John, was it? Awful dickhead, I’m assuming?’
‘Yes,’ Paula begins, ‘I mean, no! I meant yes, he was called John, but no, he wasn’t a . . . thing head.’ She sighs but it’s lost in the noisy engine. ‘Look, I really didn’t kill him! I loved him very much. It sounds like you’ve both had a terrible time of it, and I’m sorry. But I didn’t kill my husband. We were happy. He died in a car accident. I had nothing to do with it. I wouldn’t . . . I wasn’t even there or . . .’ she trails off. The more she speaks, the more unconvincing she sounds. Why is it so hard to sound truthful when you know everyone thinks you’re lying?
