A Quiet Wife Page 2

  Audrey. My heart soared. I’d been so close! I’d chosen the wrong movie star. Yes. And it was so apt. She possessed the melancholic features of Ingrid Bergman, but held herself like a dancer, just like Audrey Hepburn. What a thrill it would’ve been if I’d picked the name Audrey for her.

  “Jack,” I replied, keeping my delight to myself as much as possible. I was sure that my face had turned puce with excitement.

  “It’s lovely to meet you.” She smiled and her blue eyes glowed like warm waves. “I hope you and your family are okay. It’s terrible right now, isn’t it?”

  I nodded sombrely. “I live alone, so I don’t have anyone to worry about.” My cousin called a few days ago to check on me, but I didn’t mention that. His wife had developed some symptoms and needed to be tested, but I’d forgotten to call back and ask if she was okay.

  “I’m on my own too. My husband was on a business trip when lockdown started and now he’s stuck there, isolating.”

  “Oh, how terrible! Where is he?”

  “Sydney,” she said.

  “Do you know when he might be able to come home?”

  She shook her head. “No. Haven’t a clue. We’ll have to play things by ear, I suppose.” She rubbed her hands together as though cold. “Have you got everything? Toilet roll and so on?”

  “Actually, I have a bit of a surplus. I must confess I stocked up a few weeks ago. I had a feeling something like this might happen.”

  “You have good instincts,” she said, leaning forward. “You must be very intuitive.”

  “Oh, I’m not sure about that.” I let out a hurried laugh, trying to hide the enormous sense of pride swelling up from my stomach.

  She suddenly blinked, stared up at the sky, and winced. Then her skin turned ashen grey, and she staggered back.

  “Are you all right?” I lifted a tentative hand towards her before remembering that I shouldn’t touch a stranger right now.

  Audrey placed her hands on her knees, pulled in three deep breaths, and then lifted her face. “So sorry about that.” She moved back towards the gate. “I’m on some medication, and it causes me to hallucinate. I just saw the clouds melting. Oh, and now the wall is moving. I should probably go.” She backed away from me. “I may call on you for toilet roll soon.” She laughed, and trotted away, back into her garden, her steps unsteady.

  Well, diary, I rushed home, practically running all the way to the house. Huffing and puffing, I galloped up the stairs, still in my boots, and immediately trained the telescope on Audrey’s garden. There she was, spinning, spinning, spinning.

  Chapter Six

  2ND APRIL 2020

  Audrey slept in today. I rose before dawn, as I always do, to watch her wake. But she slept in. And when she woke, a smile stretched her lips from ear to ear. She raised her arms and arched her back, feet pushing the duvet away. It was 8:30am. She ate ice cream for breakfast and watched television in her silk pyjamas. Then she put on a long cardigan and walked the perimeter of her garden with a cup of coffee in her hands.

  Around lunchtime, she dressed and ate a slice of toast before heading to the hallway. I watched her remove a pair of ankle boots from her shoe cupboard. She slipped them on and left the house. I trained the telescope on her, as she walked up the road. After a few minutes, I realised something. She was heading straight towards my house.

  Diary, what a panic. Like a bolt of lightning to my chest. I had on my dirty pyjamas, with my hair unwashed and uncombed. I raced through to the bathroom, where I did what I could. Then I tugged on my trousers and an ironed shirt before hurrying down to the ground floor. I had to give myself a bit of a talking to in order to calm my breathing. I regarded the rest of the house with dismay. I hadn’t dusted or vacuumed for over a month. I cringed at the sight of the dirty dishes in the sink and the trail of biscuit crumbs along the surface of the kitchen counter. But she wasn’t allowed inside. She’d see nothing but the red-tiled hallway behind the front door and luckily, it was tidy.

  I hovered in that corridor, waiting. What if she didn’t come here at all? What if she turned right at the small junction down the road? I had a inkling she wouldn’t, and then I remembered what she’d said about me being intuitive.

  The doorbell rang. I forced myself to wait twenty seconds before answering.

  “Hi Jack.” She took a tentative step back. “I hope I’m not interrupting you at work or anything.”

  “Not at all,” I said, failing to inform her I have no job. I have nothing, no purpose, just a lot of money that I didn’t make.

  “Oh good. I’m glad. Actually, I’m here for a cheeky reason. I know what you’re thinking.”

  She couldn’t possibly guess my thoughts. She could never know the sheer ecstasy of simply being in her presence.

  “I’ve been a terrible neighbour and never introduced myself. Now here I am asking for a favour. What a shitty person.” She feigned a grimace. “But I’ve run out of loo paper. Could I borrow a roll or two?”

  I’m not sure I could hide the smile spreading across my lips. This was my opportunity to help her. To be of service. “Of course. Wait here and I’ll go and get some.”

  As I turned to leave, I allowed the door to fall closed quickly, preventing her from seeing inside. I didn’t want her to see the dead Christmas tree in the living room or smell the lingering scents of old pot noodles and cold teabags I’d left by the sink. Audrey could never see those shameful things.

  A moment or two later, I returned with a four pack of toilet roll and placed it on the doorstep for her to take. I’d considered giving her more, since I had plenty, but I figured that might arouse some suspicion. It wouldn’t be normal to offer her a large amount of anything—we hardly knew each other. At least from her perspective, we don’t.

  “Are you sure this is okay?” she asked. “I could just take one.”

  I waved a hand. “It’s totally fine.”

  She lifted the package and idly tossed it from one hand to the other. “Perhaps we should exchange phone numbers. In case of emergency.”

  Again, I tried to hide my delight, but I was sure my blush-prone skin betrayed me. “Great idea.” I fished my mobile phone out from my pocket and waited for her to read me her number. I confess, I stumbled through mine, not just because I was nervous to be in her presence, but because I rarely had an occasion to recite my phone number.

  “Fab.” She pushed the oblong back into her pocket. “Don’t be a stranger, okay?”

  I observed a sense of pleading emanating from her eyes. They widened, and that melancholic expression I’d first fallen for drifted over her features like a soft satin curtain rippling to the ground. It hit me with a jolt—she was lonely. We were both lonely.

  “I won’t,” I said. My throat turned dry at the thought. Excitement and fear rushing through me in equal measure. “Have you heard when your husband will be coming home? I heard on the news that the government is working to get stranded people back into the country.”

  She drummed the toilet roll package with her fingers. “It’s the weirdest thing. I haven’t heard from him. Sam isn’t always great at keeping in touch, but he usually emails or calls every few days. Since he told me he couldn’t get a flight home, he’s been silent. Actually, I need to contact his sister and see if he’s called her.”

  “Oh,” I said, now at a loss for words, “I’m sorry. That must be difficult.”

  “There’s bound to be a logical explanation,” she said. “Like maybe he’s lost the charger for his devices and the shops are closed, or there’s been a power cut somewhere. Though I haven’t heard of anything like that in the news and he was staying in a hotel, so it seems unlikely.” She sighed. “The most likely solution is, unfortunately, the one I don’t want to admit.”

  “What is it?” I blurted out. Then I shook my head. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to pry.”

  “Oh, you’re not. I brought it up. I guess I’m thinking aloud. It’s just nice to talk to someone face to face, you know?” She
smiled sadly. “The truth is, I think Sam has been having an affair for a while now. And I believe that he may have taken this opportunity to leave me and… well… disappear. A large sum of money was withdrawn from our joint account about a month ago. He took more clothes than usual. It’s like he realised he’d be staying longer, even though we had no idea what was to come.”

  “Perhaps there’s another explanation,” I offered.

  She shrugged. “He’s always been guarded about his phone and…” She waved a hand. “Sorry, this is all rather mundane and mostly pathetic.”

  “No,” I said. “Not at all.”

  “He’s never been the easiest man to live with.” Her eyes drifted around the doorframe, falling onto the stone step between us. “He’s secretive. And controlling.” She sighed. “And he does travel a lot. He works all the time. It’s just so strange that he hasn’t talked to me.”

  “Have you called the police?”

  “Not yet. I’m going to try his sister first. She might know more than me.”

  “How awful. I’m so sorry.”

  She laughed then. It was a short, sharp exhale. “Well, to be honest, part of me is relieved. Things haven’t been… great between us. As long as he’s okay and I’m safe in the house, that’s all that matters. I’ll get over it.”

  “Well, I tell you what,” I said. “We’ll make a deal. I like to walk for thirty minutes a day. I’ll make sure to swing by your house every morning, say eleven-ish? That way you’re not alone.”

  “Jack, that is incredibly kind,” she said. “Thank you so much. Well. I’d best let you get on. Thanks again, neighbour. For everything.” She smiled and her eyes lit up with warmth.

  I closed the door behind me, her name on my lips: Audrey.

  Chapter Seven

  3RD APRIL 2020

  Diary, I kept my word. The next morning, I stopped at her gate promptly at 11 a.m. and I was delighted to find her waiting for me. She stood there in her suede ankle boots and a pair of dark blue jeans, resting Tupperware on the wall. As I approached, she thrust the box in my direction.

  “To say thank you for the loo roll,” she said. “I made a batch yesterday, but there’s just one of me, so it seems silly to keep them for myself.”

  I took the Tupperware and glanced inside, tempted to open the lid and smell the fragrant cakes within.

  “I hope you like lemon. They’re lemon drizzle butterfly cakes with vanilla buttercream. Sorry about the presentation. I guess I won’t be on Bake Off any time soon.”

  “They look absolutely delicious. Thank you so much.” I held the box between both hands, the smooth plastic grounding me. My thoughts so often want to float away into the stratosphere when she’s around. “Have you heard from your husband?”

  She raised one eyebrow. “No. Not a peep. I called his sister, Jenny, and he hasn’t been in contact with her either.” She sighed. “I had no choice. I had to report him missing, even though I’m still convinced he’s just upped and left me. The police are coming this afternoon to ask some questions.” She bit her lip. “Jenny confirmed some of my suspicions, though. Apparently, at Christmas when he visited her on Boxing Day, she saw him texting another woman. I wasn’t there. I was ill and stayed home.” She began unlocking the gate. “The problem is, neither of us know who this mystery woman is.” She stepped through and onto the road. Careful not to come to close to me, maintain the correct amount of social distance.

  “What an awful thing to go through,” I said. We began walking, and I added, “Have you been able to check any of his accounts? Perhaps he has a profile on a dating website.”

  She lifted a finger. “That’s a good idea. I’ll try that. To be honest, I think it might be someone from his work. I mean, he spends so much time doing it. But Jenny thinks it’s a woman from his gym. She saw the initials of the woman’s name.” Audrey shrugged. “There’s no one at his work with the same initials. Maybe you’re right and he met someone on Tinder or whatever.”

  I shook my head. “What a thing to deal with right now. What with the pandemic and everything.”

  “That’s why I’m baking so much.” She laughed. “It’s therapeutic. Anyway, enough about me. How are you?”

  “Oh, I’m fine. I found out yesterday that my cousin’s wife had a bad bout of it, but she’s on the mend now. She’s passed it on to him though.”

  “I’m so sorry,” she said.

  “They have kids. It’s harder keep away from it when your kids have been in school up until recently.”

  She nodded solemnly. “Not like us out here.” She tipped her head back. “It’s like we’re not even in the world. We’re untouched.” She sighed. “I wish the police weren’t coming later. I might ask them to stay outside the house.”

  I thoroughly understood where she came from. I wouldn’t want anyone in my home right now, though I’d be tempted to make an exception for Audrey.

  “I guess they’ll want to check his wardrobe and list everything he took.” She shuddered. I did the same, though I don’t think she noticed.

  We didn’t see a single car on our walk. The weather remained pleasant. Mild, and buzzing with bees. Audrey demonstrated how much she loves animals by trying to feed every sheep or cow handfuls of grass as we walked by them. It was endearing, if a little silly.

  For the rest of our short walk—she didn’t want the buttercream in my cakes to melt—we talked about more mundane things than her missing husband. I wanted to ask her about the medication that caused her to hallucinate, but instead we remarked on the landscape. The churning brook next to a footpath. The name of the farmer who owned most of the surrounding land. I was relieved she forgot to ask me what I do for a living.

  As soon as I returned home, I made a cup of tea, took the cakes up to my room and watched as the police turned up to Audrey’s home. As she’d predicted, they did enter the house, and I noticed Audrey keeping her distance while they checked her bedroom for clues. Audrey answered questions with a cardigan half flung over her shoulders. She kept one hand rested on her collarbone at all times. I pulled the curtains partially closed in case any of the officers decided to look up at my home. They didn’t.

  About an hour later, they traipsed out of the house, and I watched Audrey clean as I ate her cupcakes. Then she received a delivery of fruit and vegetables. Oddly enough, she handed the delivery person some money, and then she took the box into her kitchen.

  She removed a plastic bag from her vegetable box. This was surprising. I’d never seen this happen before. She stashed the bag inside a kitchen drawer before putting the other items away.

  Now, I’m not a wordly man. My world is very small. However, I have seen those kinds of plastic bags associated with something unsavoury: drugs. I could, of course, be wrong. Perhaps Audrey asked for an unusual spice or some sort of seasoning. And perhaps the bag was all they had available to pack this mystery spice. Or Audrey was using her vegetable delivery box as an excuse to acquire drugs. After all, on the first day I met her, she told me she’d hallucinated the clouds melting in the sky.

  I took a break from the telescope after that. I hated the thought of Audrey being someone who took recreational drugs. It didn’t fit with the person I understood her to be. It seemed far too rebellious and dangerous. Still, I wanted to give her the benefit of the doubt. I even spent some time researching legitimate medication that could cause hallucinations. But when I slept, I dreamt of her giving me a Tupperware box full of white powder.

  “Take it home quickly,” she whispered in my dream. “You’ll want to snort that before it melts. Hurry, the police are here to arrest my husband.” She placed a finger to her lips.

  Chapter Eight

  4TH APRIL

  Audrey stepped out of the house carrying a tray of croissants and two cups of coffee.

  “Don’t worry, I cleaned the plate and the cup.” She grinned. “Morning, Jack. You’re looking good today.”

  Her words warmed me like sunshine. “Am I?”

&
nbsp; She rested the tray on the wall. “That jacket really brings out the green in your eyes.” She was so free with compliments. I could never talk to another human being like that. My immaturity and awkwardness screamed in comparison.

  “Thank you,” I said, taking a coffee. It was rich and sweet with frothy milk that tickled my nose.

  “Do you like it? I added caramel.”

  “It’s lovely.”

  We took a moment to munch down part of our croissants. Then I asked, “How did everything go with the police?”

  “Oh, fine. They had a poke around as I thought they would, but they suspected the same thing as me—that he’s run off with his fancy woman.” She shrugged her shoulders. “I’ve reached the point where I’m actually relieved he’s gone. Sounds awful, doesn’t it? To be honest, I don’t even care if he’s all right anymore, I’m just glad he’s out of my life.” She shook her head, that tumble of silvery blonde hair shimmering around her face. “It’ll hit me soon. Next week, the week after. Being in lockdown makes it all seem like a bubble. Like it isn’t real. Fuck it. I’m no longer second guessing myself. I’m going to enjoy the solitude. And I’m going to enjoy getting to know my neighbour.”

  “I think that’s admirable,” I said. Internally I screamed for her to see me. I wanted to learn everything about her. I wanted desperately to be inside her house, inside her life.

  She sipped her coffee. “So, Jack. What do you do? I don’t think I asked yesterday.”

  “I’m a writer,” I replied. It wasn’t strictly a lie. I had been published in the past. Unfortunately, my debut released with a whimper, critically panned with dire sales figures. I’d never written anything since.

  “Wonderful! What kind of books do you write?”

  “Crime,” I said.

  “Spooky.”