Perfect Wives

by Emma Hannigan

  ‘Why?’ Saul looked astonished.

  ‘I was very shy,’ she lied. ‘Once I got older I learned how to make friends.’

  ‘And you learned how to be a movie star so now the whole world loves you,’ Saul said proudly.

  ‘Thank you, darling,’ Jodi said, fighting back tears. ‘But I still remember how awful it feels when nobody wants to be your friend. So let’s try to make sure that Cameron knows we’re his friends. Deal?’

  ‘Deal.’ Saul yawned.

  ‘I’m sorry we didn’t have time to fix your Lego from earlier. We’ll do it tomorrow, okay?’

  ‘Okay, Mum.’

  ‘Sleep tight, little soldier,’ she said.

  ‘Night, Mum.’

  Jodi pulled a woollen blanket around herself, too tired to light the stove. Cameron and his difficulties had put one thing into perspective for her: no matter what Mac decided to do, who he approached and blabbed to, she’d deal with it.

  She was no longer the meek little girl who longed to be loved. She had Darius, her precious Saul and an increasing number of friends.

  Her thoughts flicked to Sebastian and how she’d felt as his hand had rested on hers earlier. There were so many real people in her life now. She wasn’t prepared to run from the past any longer.

  Her mobile phone beeped a message.

  Have you reconsidered? Can we work something out? We have something special you and I. Don’t let it end this way. Remember you said you loved me to the moon and back? x x Mac

  Jodi exhaled. What a sad, deluded and horrible piece of work Mac was.

  Do what you like, Mac. The game is up for me. I’m not afraid of you or your threats. If you want to play hardball go ahead. I feel sorry for you.

  Jodi hit send. Instead of bursting into tears or feeling an awful rush of fear course through her, she switched her phone off and turned on the television. Then she took a DVD off the shelf beside her and slid Dirty Dancing into the player.

  As the music kicked off, she smiled to herself as she waited for Patrick Swayze to deliver his famous line – ‘Nobody puts Baby in the corner.’ Well, Jodi Ludlum was coming out of the corner. Mac wasn’t going to hold her back any longer.

  Chapter 31

  Francine always felt calmer when they’d been to see Nuala. Somehow the threat of bad behaviour seemed less scary.

  ‘Cameron’s responding well and Howie will make an even bigger impact as the combined training progresses,’ Nuala said.

  Howie had received his final booster shot and was able to go outside. A specialist trainer was working with the puppy and the little boy. ‘You’re his master and he needs you to help him.’

  Cameron couldn’t hide his pride when Howie sat for him or chased a ball. Francine and Carl couldn’t believe the positive effect the dog was having on their son. ‘When I feel the fire starting in my head, Howie helps me,’ Cameron admitted. Stroking the dog quelled his rage and frustration.

  Francine was still producing enough cakes to start a teashop but she’d made a pact with herself that midnight was her cut-off point. Come hell or high water, she wasn’t allowed to wander down to the kitchen after that time.

  ‘You’re like that story of the elves and the shoemaker,’ Carl said sadly. ‘If I leave a box of eggs, a bag of sugar and another of flour on the kitchen counter, when I wake up you’ve turned them into a beautiful cake.’

  ‘I’m more like Cinderella now,’ she said. ‘When the clock strikes midnight I have to be in bed.’

  ‘Why don’t we book a holiday, even a weekend, away from the children? It’d make all the difference for us to have a bit of civilised time together.’

  ‘Who would look after them and that mutt?’ She sighed. ‘I’d love to, but there’s no way we can abandon ship now. Besides, we can’t leave Cameron at the moment. He needs the continuity and support.’

  ‘Then we’ll all go,’ he decided. ‘Leave it to me. I’ll find a dog-friendly hotel – there are plenty in Ireland.’

  The following evening as they were eating dinner Carl shoved his chair back. ‘I have an announcement to make.’ He coughed dramatically. ‘Tomorrow you guys are all missing school!’

  The children all cheered.

  ‘We’re going to a hotel in Kerry for two nights and Howie is coming too.’

  They were thrilled. They threw down their cutlery and raced off to start packing.

  ‘I’ve left two suitcases on the upstairs landing, so put in a pair of pyjamas each, some clean underwear and a change of clothes,’ Carl shouted. ‘They have a pool so swimming gear is essential.’

  ‘When did you book it?’ Francine asked, in mild shock.

  ‘I went online today and found a great deal so I went for it!’

  ‘I see,’ she said, sighing.

  ‘It’ll be fun, sweetheart, just what we all need. A break from the old routine.’

  Carl ran up the stairs, calling to the children that he wanted to see them all packed in jig time.

  Francine sat at the kitchen table feeling wrung out. She piled up the dirty plates, scraped the scraps into the bin and began to clear away the rest of the dinner things.

  She understood her husband was only trying to help, but all Francine wanted was her old routine back. The one that had existed and worked before Howie had come crashing into the house, before Cameron had been diagnosed with ADD, before she’d been made redundant and before she’d felt compelled to fill each second of the day and night to stop her terrified mind wandering out of control.

  Twenty minutes later, she gasped when she reached the landing. Pretty much the entire contents of all the children’s rooms were strewn from their doorways to two overflowing cases. The TV was blaring downstairs as they all yelled answers at a game show. She pushed open Cara’s bedroom door and felt like crying. Her chest of drawers was virtually empty and what looked like an entire library of books was piled on the bed with an iPod and a pencil case.

  The boys’ rooms were worse.

  Lowering herself to the landing floor, she tried to sort the tangle of clothes into piles. Eventually she had packed both cases, putting most of the clothes back in the children’s rooms and keeping the things she knew they would actually need. She filled a separate bag with goggles, swimsuits and caps for them all.

  ‘Okay, folks, bedtime!’ Carl instructed. ‘Brush your teeth and get into your scratchers. We’ll leave early in the morning to make the most of the time in the hotel.’

  Francine moved into their bedroom, choosing clothes for herself while closing the drawers Carl had pulled open earlier.

  ‘This is going to be amazing, isn’t it?’ Carl said, as he bounded into the room, like a toddler off to a birthday party.

  ‘Great,’ Francine said flatly.

  ‘Team Hennessy is on the move!’ Carl clapped his hands and went off to police the brushing of teeth and getting into bed.

  Francine sank down on the bed. She was so wrung out that she wasn’t in the mood for Team Hennessy right now. Especially when the majority of the team were acting like apes and charging around, making a mess. There was no point in her packing toothbrushes until the morning, but she’d leave a large washbag in the family bathroom ready to be filled.

  Peeling herself off the bed, she rubbed her tired eyes and pottered towards the bathroom.

  The scene that greeted her made her want to scream. A thick snake of toothpaste had been squirted across the washbasin. The lid of the mouthwash was on the floor. One of the boys had left the toilet seat raised and forgotten to flush. The hand towel was in a ball on the floor. Howie was sneezing out puffs of chewed toilet roll.

  Francine sighed.

  ‘Night, Mum!’ Craig called from his bed.

  ‘I’m coming now to say good night to you all,’ she said, injecting the last bit of enthusiasm she could muster into her voice.

  By the time she’d kissed the excited children, calmed the dog down, packed tins and dry food for him, with bottles of water and his bowls, she felt as if
she was going to keel over.

  As she fell into bed and Carl cuddled up to her she thought she was about to explode. She’d driven children around all day, cooked, cleaned, unpacked and repacked, finished the ironing, washed God knows how many piles of clothes, and now Carl wanted her to be a vixen between the sheets.

  ‘Have you ever wanted to spend a couple of days in a cave by yourself?’ she asked him, as she stared at the ceiling. She knew she sounded mildly unhinged but she needed to vent.

  ‘Hmm?’ Carl had only one thing on his mind.

  ‘Or a tent at the top of a mountain would do,’ she continued. ‘In fact, I’d settle for a cardboard box in the middle of the woods.’

  ‘I know …’ He kissed her neck.

  ‘Or I could snip my fingers off one by one with the pinking shears and feed them to the dog,’ she said.

  ‘Okay,’ Carl said, pulling her closer, his face full of love.

  Oh, sod it, Francine thought. I could be telling him I’ve had a visitation from the Archangel Gabriel with the weekend’s winning lotto numbers and he wouldn’t hear at this moment. She knew they were lucky to find one another attractive after all this time. But a massive part of Francine wanted to be alone.

  After they’d made love, Carl fell asleep. She stared at his familiar features. He was a handsome man and had aged well. She was glad that he still loved her.

  The holiday would do them all the world of good, she conceded. Carl was right. They needed a change of scene and a bit of quality time as a family.

  At least she wouldn’t have to cook and clean for the next couple of days. That would be a lovely treat. Carl would be there all day to help entertain the children. She didn’t need to do the school run or go to the supermarket. She imagined the plush hotel towels and bathrobe.

  Carl loved playing with the children in the pool. Maybe she could sit in the Jacuzzi or even squeeze in a manicure. She curled up against him, inhaling his familiar scent.

  When he’d said they were making an early start, he hadn’t been exaggerating.

  At five thirty the next morning he flicked the upstairs lights on and ordered them all out of bed.

  ‘Honey, do we seriously have to go now?’ Francine asked, as she staggered around in a haze. ‘Please let’s leave a little later.’

  ‘You’ll thank me when we get there!’ he boomed. ‘No breakfast or any of that. We’ll hit the road and stop for a snack on the way.’ He whistled as he put the bags into the car. Francine had liked him being a morning person when the children were babies. He’d never complained about doing a five o’clock bottle. But right at that moment she could have stuffed a sock into his mouth to shut him up.

  Mercifully, the children were too tired to argue much and sloped into the car, looking pale and shivery. Howie was delirious that they were all up and about so early. As he bounded from room to room, wagging his tail, Francine couldn’t help but smile at him. He really was the most enthusiastic creature she’d ever met.

  Carl’s estate car was bursting at the seams as they set off just before six.

  ‘Right, let’s get this show on the road!’ he exclaimed.

  ‘Can you keep it down a bit, love?’ Francine asked, trying not to sound as irritable as she felt.

  ‘Crabby Annie’s sitting in my wife’s seat!’ he joked. ‘What have you done with my Francine?’

  Howie curled up on the floor in the back and Cameron rested his feet on the puppy’s back.

  ‘I’m going back to sleep. It’s the middle of the night still,’ Cara said grumpily.

  ‘I’m not,’ Cameron chirped. As he and Craig turned on their Nintendos and linked a game to play against one another, the first argument broke out.

  ‘Turn them off,’ Cara snapped.

  ‘Cara!’ Francine and Carl scolded in unison.

  ‘It’s so annoying. Pinging and making shooting noises. Why can’t they play it on silent?’

  ‘You could turn them down, boys,’ Francine suggested.

  ‘It’s no fun if you can’t hear the sounds!’ Craig argued. ‘Besides, it’s two against one.’

  ‘Either turn it down or I’ll snatch it and throw it out of the window.’ Cara glowered at them.

  ‘Meanie,’ Cameron yelled, and thumped her arm.

  ‘Mum! He hit me,’ she said, as if he’d just assaulted her with an iron bar.

  ‘No hitting, Cameron!’ Carl said. ‘Apologise to your sister.’

  ‘No! She’s a pain and we all hate her.’

  ‘Mum!’ Cara said, and started to cry.

  ‘Right, that’s enough! No more hitting and no more saying nasty things,’ Francine said firmly.

  Cara grabbed her Puffa coat and pulled it over her head.

  Conor turned on his Nintendo and joined in with his brothers’ game.

  ‘At least they’re not arguing, even if our daughter is in danger of suffocation,’ Francine whispered to Carl.

  ‘It’ll be worth it when we get there,’ he assured his wife.

  Four and a half hours later, Howie was trying to sit between the front seats. All the children were threatening to stab one another and Francine thought her head was going to split in half.

  ‘You promised we’d stop on the way,’ Cameron whined.

  ‘I know, but we got such a good run at it there was no point in breaking the journey. Besides,’ Carl said, glancing back and grinning, ‘ta-da! We’re here!’

  Silence descended as they drank in their new surroundings.

  The entrance was gated with an old-style swinging iron sign. It looked quite rusty and, in Francine’s opinion, needed a lick of paint. Still, the tree-lined driveway was pretty, with breathtaking views of the sea to one side.

  ‘Isn’t this fantastic?’ she said.

  ‘It looks a bit old and skangy.’ Cara pouted.

  ‘It’s rustic,’ Carl corrected.

  ‘That’s code for old and skangy.’ Cara raised her eyes to heaven.

  The purpose-built hotel was like an elongated chalet. Painted a rather striking shade of mustard, it might have been the height of fashion at some point but now appeared dated and dishevelled.

  ‘Well, there’s no trouble with parking, which is a good thing,’ Carl said, as he got out and stretched. ‘Plenty of space close to the main door. That’ll make it much easier to check in.’

  Clambering out of the car stiffly, the family breathed in the fresh air. Howie rushed and piddled against a tree and shook himself from head to toe.

  ‘Let’s go inside and see if we can check in. Then we’ll grab some food. I’m starving,’ Carl said.

  The reception area was on the dark side, with maroon striped wallpaper and stained wood throughout.

  ‘Eau de cabbage,’ Francine said, wrinkling her nose.

  ‘Smells like the home my mother spent her last days in, Lord rest her,’ Carl whispered. ‘Still, it said on the website that they’ve just refurbished the rooms, so I expect they haven’t got around to the communal areas yet.’

  The receptionist, who looked about twelve, seemed irritated that they had appeared so early. ‘Yes?’ she said, folding her arms across her small chest defensively.

  ‘Good morning!’ Carl said cheerfully. When there was no response, he added, ‘We’re the Hennessy family. Party of six and one dog!’

  Yawning, the girl poked at a computer and produced a form. ‘Sign at the bottom. The dog can’t go near the leisure centre or the main restaurant,’ she recited.

  ‘Here you go,’ Carl said, smiling, as he returned the form.

  ‘You’re on the third floor,’ the girl said in a sulky voice. ‘Lunch is served until two.’ She banged the room keys on the desk, stood up and sloped into a little back room, making it clear she wasn’t open to any further chat.

  ‘I can’t imagine she’s spent too much time in charm school, can you?’ Carl whispered to Francine.

  ‘She’s utterly obnoxious,’ Francine said, affronted on Carl’s behalf. ‘I’ve a good mind to ask to speak
to the manager. That’s not the type of welcome I’d expect from a four-star establishment.’

  ‘Eh, I think it might be a three-star,’ Carl said, coughing and looking away. ‘Anyway, we’re here now.’ Clapping Conor on the back, he led the family outside to collect the luggage. ‘All hands on deck. If we take a few things each we should manage to unload the car in jig time.’

  There was a slight snag with Carl’s plan. When they got to the lift it was the size of a coffin.

  ‘I’m not going in that thing. Imagine if it stops,’ Francine said, backing away in panic. ‘I don’t like lifts at the best of times, but that’s dodgy.’

  ‘You lot take the stairs, then,’ Carl agreed. ‘I’ll come up in the lift with as much as I can get into it. When I get to the third floor, help me pull the stuff out, then I’ll go down and load up the last of the bags.’

  There was great excitement as they ran with Howie up the stairs.

  ‘Let’s see if we can beat the lift!’ Cara called. Howie found the whole thing a bit overwhelming and began to bark.

  ‘Shush, Howie!’ Francine said, putting her finger to her lips.

  ‘It stinks here,’ Cameron complained.

  Francine had to admit the place was kind of musty. She sincerely hoped the newly refurbished bedrooms were a damn sight fresher than the rest of the place.

  The lift rattled to a halt just after they reached it.

  ‘It sounds like it’s going to fall apart,’ Cara said.

  ‘Don’t be rude, please, Cara,’ Francine scolded.

  ‘Sorry, Mum.’

  They lifted all the bags out and pressed the down button to send the lift back to Carl.

  ‘We’ve no keys. Dad has them,’ Craig said.

  ‘He’ll be along in just a minute,’ Francine said. ‘Meanwhile, let’s have a look out of the window.’

  ‘I can’t see anything,’ Cameron said. ‘The glass is dirty. Daddy would be very pleased to have a go at it with his m’alectric power hose, wouldn’t he?’

  ‘We’re on holidays, Cameron,’ Conor said. ‘It’s not our job to clean the place.’