Page 61 of Perfect Wives
The mantra loops through my mind, holding me together by a thread as thin as the one that’s held my marriage together for what seems like months. Now is not the time to falter.
Opposite me, Sató sits silently. I wonder if she can see the cracks appearing – the ones I feel running down my body, threatening to tear me apart. There’s a black coffee on the table in front of me. Steam billows from the takeaway cup. Beside it is a sealed packet of two custard cream biscuits. The smell of bitter coffee hangs in the air, but it’s the biscuits that keep catchingmy eye. I can almost taste the too-sweet crumbly biscuit. The sickly cream middle. I haven’t eaten a custard cream in years. I can’t remember the last time I ate anything sweet that wasn’t the fruit in my smoothie. I’ve been dieting most of my life. Denying myself, controlling my eating, protecting my figure. Now I wonder why I bothered. Why does anyone else care that my waist size hasn’t changed in ten years? I should’ve bought that donut this morning. Should’ve bought five.
My stomach rumbles in the quiet. Loud enough that Sató’s gaze moves from me to the biscuits and back again. She’s wondering why I don’t eat them. I wouldn’t know what to say if she asked. I’ve been this version of myself for so long, I don’t know who else I’d be.
I reach for the coffee instead, taking a sip. It tastes foul, but at least it’s something to stave off the hunger.
Sató taps the photo on the table in front of us. ‘Do you know where we found this photograph?’
I nod. ‘In Jonny’s house,’ I reply.
Sató’s eyes are sharp as they watch me. ‘Was he using this photo to blackmail you?’ she asks.
‘Yes,’ I reply. The truth feels clunky after so many lies.
‘When did the blackmail start?’ Sató asks.
I push away the lump building in my throat before I reply. ‘He showed me the photo the week he moved into Magnolia Close last year. He told me he knew everything about my past.’
‘And what did he want from you, Georgie?’ Sató asks.
The anxiety I’ve lived with for eighteen months floods back. The constant fear. The second-guessing. How I’d watch Nate watching me, wondering if he knew. If he’d guessed. Is that why my marriage fell apart? Nate – so observant – did he notice the shift? Maybe it wasn’t even a conscious thing. Just a tiny alarm in the back of his mind that something was wrong.
‘At first, he didn’t want anything, except to rattle me,’ I reply. ‘Jonny got me on my own at the street party we held to welcome him to the close, and tried to kiss me.’ I shiver at the memory. ‘He didn’t care that my husband and child were just outside. Every time he saw me after that, there were comments and suggestions. But it wasn’t until the night of the quiz that he explicitly told me he wanted to have sex with me and told me what he’d do if I refused.’
Something in Sató’s expression shifts, and I realise what I’ve admitted. ‘In all the times we’ve talked in the last two weeks, Georgie, you’ve not mentioned seeing Jonny. Are you now saying that as well as going to his house after the quiz night ended and killing him, you also saw Jonny earlier that same evening?’ she asks, sitting forward a fraction.
I pause. I hadn’t planned to tell her about seeing Jonny. But I’m too far down the road to backtrack now. And I’m supposed to be admitting to murder anyway. The thought leaves me feeling unsettled and queasy. I’m here because I have to do this, not because I want to.
I have to do this. I repeat the words as I fix my gaze back on Sató. ‘He was driving towards the gates into Magnolia Close as I was walking to the school. I was on my own. Tasha and Beth were running late, and I wanted more time in the school hall to set up. He stopped his car and got out. He said he was bored with playing games. He told me if I didn’t have sex with him, he’d show Nate the photo.’
Sató taps her index finger on the photo – pushes it towards me. ‘Who are the other people in this photo?’
The edges of my vision blur for a moment. I blink it away. Gather myself.
‘Obviously, that’s me in the centre,’ I say, staring at the younger version of myself. The tailored black dress. Sleek blonde hair. Big eyelashes, bigger smile. ‘To my right is ReggieChamberlain, my old boss. Next to him is Phil Ashford-Wells, a junior investment manager. And on my left…is Jonny.’
Sató’s brow furrows. ‘Why is it you didn’t want Nate or anyone else to know you and Jonny had a past?’
I press my lips together. My eyes burn with the truth pulsing just behind them. ‘It was stupid of me to lie and pretend I didn’t know Jonny. The moment I lied, it became this big thing. I’m sure you’ve seen by now how close we are as a community. We trust each other. If my neighbours – my friends – found out I’d lied, they’d stop trusting me. It’s hard to explain, but when the trust is gone, people are ignored and treated differently. I saw it happen to the Gallaghers – the family who lived at number two before Jonny. I didn’t want that to happen to me, or to Oscar and Nate.’
‘And Nate – why did you lie to him? What’s so damning about this photo, Georgie, that Jonny could use it to blackmail you?’
I hold myself still for a moment, feeling the truth squeeze me tight in its grasp. It feels pointless to lie now. ‘The photo looks innocent enough, but I met Nate when he was investigating Reggie for insider trading. Nate interviewed me and asked me about these nights out. I lied to him and told him I wasn’t part of it. If he’d seen this photo of me out with Reggie, he’d have known I’d lied. He’d have realised I was helping Reggie bend the rules and make extra money. Nate’s entire career has been built on trying to stop these activities. If he found out the woman he married was part of it, he’d never have forgiven me. I didn’t want to destroy our family over it. I thought I could fix it.’
‘Fix it by killing Jonny?’ Sató asks.
I stare at the detective, open-mouthed. Silent. I’ve already confessed. Told her I killed Jonny, spun a version of the truth that suited the story I needed her to believe. But now she’s circling closer, prodding at the cracks I thought were hidden.The words lodge in my throat. I can feel everything starting to slip, just like it did after Keira sent those packages, after she made it clear that pretending this wasn’t happening wouldn’t protect us. Just like it did the night we got into Beth’s car, hearts pounding, hands shaking, and drove through the country lanes to commit a murder.
I snatch at the packet of biscuits, ripping open the plastic and shoving one into my mouth. Sugary-sweetness hits my taste buds. I don’t even like custard creams and yet right now this is the best thing I’ve ever eaten.
A single tear tracks down my face. There it is – the thought I’ve been avoiding. We didn’t just plan to kill someone. We got in that car – me, Tasha and Beth – and we found Keira’s ex, just where she said.
I did it to protect my family. To save my marriage. I keep telling myself that’s my reason. That’s all that matters. But sitting in this windowless room, scared and pretending not to be, I don’t know if that’s even true anymore.
2 DAYS EARLIER
THIRTY-THREE
