She clears her throat. ‘In your . . . will,’ she says, trying to be heard. ‘You gave him the whisky.’ Her heart races. She’s still afraid of him, of his reactions. ‘I think there’s Prosecco?’
John’s face darkens. ‘Fine. Get that.’ He smiles then. ‘And get yourself a Malibu and Coke. I know it’s your favourite.’
She wants to weep, but obliges, feeling any residual strength draining away. She’s felt so strong lately and look at her now.Meekly obeying orders. Fetching and carrying. Drinking fabric softener. But that strength she felt clearly wasn’t real if it could disappear so easily, simply at the sound of John’s voice.
They clink glasses, Tilly and Seb shouting, ‘eyes, eyes, eyes’ at each other, apparently oblivious to Pauline’s discomfort. She doesn’t want to lookhimin the eyes.
‘The first thing I’m going to do,’ John announces to the room, ‘is take my family shopping!’ He raises his glass again, adding gleefully, ‘Since I’m now a very rich man!’
Pauline notes theI’m, but no one else takes much notice.
‘Although,’ John muses, pouting, ‘I’ll also have to get myself a new car pretty sharpish, since that last one got a bit dinged up.’ He laughs. ‘I don’t even know what happened to it. Languishing in some Austrian junkyard, I expect!’
‘But you were in your car when it went off the road, right?’ Seb asks curiously, and his dad shakes his head, waving away the question.
‘Er . . . no, no, and never mind all that now,’ he booms. ‘Let’s just be glad it wasn’t me!’
‘But how did you end up in hospital then, if you weren’t in the car wreck?’ Seb continues, frustration in his voice.
‘Shut up, Seb!’ Tilly commands, looking doe-eyed at her dad. ‘Who cares about all that! He’s home, that’s what matters.’ Inspiration hits her. ‘Oh! Mum bought a new car. We can go shopping in that!’
John turns to Pauline with surprise. ‘Youbought a new car?’ He shakes his head, turning back to Tilly. ‘That’s a disaster waiting to happen. She’s the world’s worst driver!’ He laughs at this and Tilly joins in. Seb does not. ‘Well,’ John continues, checking his watch, ‘bring me the keys then,Paula, I better take over the driving from here on out.’ He turns again to Tilly. ‘With your mother at the wheel, we’d all end up dying in a fiery wreck. And I’ve only just escaped one!’ He laughs long and hard, then dumps down his champagne flute. ‘Let’s get going.’
They head outside, ignoring the cameras and the shouts. John low-whistles at the sight of the brand-new Porsche parked down the road. He side-eyes Pauline. ‘I never knew you had it in you,’ he murmurs with something like disgust in his voice. ‘Though I’d have got it in red,’ he adds with self-importance.
Pauline thinks of Teddy’s comment about middle-aged men driving red cars because they’re too scared to buy Viagra. Though, in hindsight, she’s very relieved John has always been too embarrassed to buy the blue pills he needs.
Poor Bridget, she thinks again.
John drives too fast towards London, but Pauline does not secretly delight in every speed bump, like she did in Audrey’s old car. Audrey’s joy in driving was infectious, while John’s road rage is stressful and uncomfortable.
In the back, Pauline’s adult children don’t seem to notice the tension. Tilly chats happily, filling her dad in on her life over the months he’s missed.
They pull up near Harrods, and Pauline’s heart beats faster knowing Teddy lives so close. Are The Lottery Winner Widows Club all there together right now? Are they having fun without her? Maybe they’re relieved to have lost the most broken – the weakest – of their group and now they can truly let loose and enjoy themselves.
Pauline thinks of Teddy’s anger the other day, and wonders if she’s been able to forgive Audrey’s lies. She wishes it werepossible for her. Maybe she could’ve moved past it if John weren’t back, but she can’t have two people in her life like that.
Not that there would be any point in forgiving Audrey anyway. It’s not like John will let Pauline see the group anymore. He never let her have friends.
There are photographers waiting for them inside the grand department store, and it’s clear John has set up some kind of publicity shoot. She didn’t speak or pose at the press conference, but – look – here is the dutiful wife now, back at her husband’s side. Look how happy the whole family are, enjoying their miracle. She watches John as he smiles widely for the cameras and jokes with Tilly and Seb. She tries to smile, too, channelling air steward Connie as they move around the jewellery section.
This is the most attention John’s ever given their children, she realises. The most he’s smiled at them their whole lives. He always said the kids were her remit, her responsibility. He had no interest in nappies or school reports. Like those things were somehow so exciting for Pauline! But look at Tilly now, basking in his attention, lapping up the praise; so desperate for his approval and love.
It makes Pauline sad.
John performatively calls his wife over now, loudly telling her – and the photographers – how he wants to buy her something sparkly.
‘I know how to keep the little woman sweet,’ he winks at the nearest camera. ‘Happy wife, happy life, eh, lads?’
She steps towards him reluctantly and he turns. ‘What do you fancy, love? A bracelet? A diamond necklace?’
She lightly shakes her head. ‘No, thank you,’ she says. A shadow passes across his face, a flicker of irritation.
‘Don’t be silly,’ he says through gritted teeth. He takes her arm, moving her firmly to a glass case. ‘What about that one?’ He points at a delicate necklace covered in diamonds. The description says it is a White Gold and Diamond Classic Butterfly Necklace.
‘There’s no price,’ Pauline says meekly, feeling so much like Paula and hating herself for it. She points to the small sign, reading, ‘Price On Application’.
‘That doesn’t matter!’ John says loudly. ‘We’ve got twenty million in the bank!’ He laughs again as flashes go off. The paps are loving this.
