35
Forthismurder, The Lottery Winner Widows Club have tried to learn from their previous mistakes.
Gone are the slippery estate agent booties. Long gone are the awkward gloves no one could open any doors with. And it’s broad daylight as the four women approach Pauline’s house. They’ve come straight from the airport, which – as Audrey pointed out – means they have their luggage in the car, ready for a speedy getaway should everything go disastrously wrong. They’ve taken almost no precautions this time, but there’s also a lot less reason tobecautious. After all, why wouldn’t Pauline and her friends be at her house? There’s no reason their finger and shoe prints wouldn’t be all over the place.
Pauline pauses on the porch outside the house for a moment, her hands shaking as she regards the familiar front door. The paint at the bottom is chipped and peeling, the wood starting to splinter. Last year she asked John about buying some paint and filler to fix it herself, and he laughed at her. The idea of her being anything but useless was hilarious to him.
‘Are you all right?’ Ivy asks softly. ‘Sure you want to do this? We could wait a bit, have a big think about it all, if you want?’
‘She can’t wait,’ Audrey says quickly. ‘It has to be done before anyone else finds out he’s back.’
‘I’m fine,’ Pauline answers. ‘I’m scared, but he deserves it, he really does. Let’s do this.’ She roots around in her handbag for a key that has languished down there for what feels like an eternity. It’s hard to believe she’s been away for less than a week.
‘Hello?’ Pauline calls out nervously as they enter. There is silence in the house and she turns to the others, unsure what to do next.
‘Do you think he’s gone out?’ Ivy asks, mirroring Pauline’s anxious tone.
‘Maybe,’ she whispers back. ‘Or maybe he just didn’t hear me. He’s a bit deaf in his right ear.’
‘That might be quite useful,’ Teddy nods. ‘He won’t hear us coming.’
‘Should we split up to look for him?’ Pauline asks and Audrey shakes her head.
‘Splitting up isneverthe right thing to do, my darling. You don’t watch any horror films, do you? We’ll stick together and make our way round the house. We’re not leaving you or anyone.’
Ivy takes Pauline’s hand. ‘We’llalwaysstick together.’ She nods at the stairs in front of them. ‘Let’s look up there first.’
They creep up the steps, Pauline silently thanking the previous owners who so thoughtfully installed the thickest carpet known to man. Sure, it might be bright orange and forty years old, but it turns out it’s also ideal for creeping up on unsuspecting husbands who were supposed to be dead.
Teddy takes the lead and they walk, single file across the landing. Pauline’s bedroom door is closed and she searchesher memory, trying to recall if she’d shut it before she left. It all feels like a million years ago, so much has happened since she last slept here.
They stop in a huddle outside the door, each of them attempting sign language about their next move. Eventually, Teddy rolls her eyes and turns decisively for the door. Pauline gasps lightly as she moves the door knob, opening the door in slow motion. She places her face at the crack, then backs off, closing the door silently.
‘He’s in there,’ she mouths. ‘He’s fast asleep.’ She pauses. ‘What do we do?’
‘We can’t really push him down the stairs like this,’ Ivy says in a low whisper as Audrey nods.
‘We can smother him though,’ Pauline says with determination. She disappears into a room down the hall, returning a minute later with a large blue throw pillow, featuring a smiling giraffe. They got it at a Blue Diamond.
‘Is this a good idea?’ Teddy says nervously, and if Pauline didn’t know better, she’d say there was trepidation in her voice.
‘No,’ she shakes her head. ‘But I’m doing it anyway.’ She lets herself quietly into the familiar bedroom. It smells like John in there and for a second her head spins. It’s been so long since she smelled that smell. It almost knocks her off her feet.
John is lying under the covers of her bed, breathing heavily with his mouth open. He always slept like the dead. Ironically.
Looking at him lying there, in the spot that has become her personal space – hers and hers alone – Pauline feels only revulsion. How did she ever believe he loved her? Or that she loved him? The way he loved her wasn’t love. She realisesnow that this man is not capable of real love. He is a cruel, horrible person who only cares about himself.
She thinks of all those times he said she was ugly, that no one would ever love her but him. She thinks of the time she saved up her bus money by walking to work for months, so she could buy new pyjamas. And how he’d marched her back to the shop to return them because they were ‘too fancy for the likes of her’. She thinks of how he would buy food she didn’t like, then claim he had no idea salmon made her ill. She thinks of how he always gave her a Malibu and Coke at family gatherings, knowing full well she thought it tasted like fabric softener.
She stands over him now, holding the pillow. She wants to do it; she has to do it; she needs to do it. She raises it up over his head, staring down at his cruel face. Even sleeping, he is smirking. Sheneedsto do this. This will solve everything. She can’t let him back into her life. He will ruin it all. He is poison; he is a disease; he is a vampire.
She thinks of their life together and all the casual, daily cruelty. He deserves this. She raises the pillow higher.
Then she thinks of Tilly and Seb. She thinks of those happy memories Tilly shared in family grief counselling with Gerald.
She wants to do it.
But she can’t do it.
