by Matt Shaw
As I look at him now, I remember what he used to look like. I feel a little sorry for him. He doesn’t deserve to look so rough. A big Elvis fan, he often used to wonder whether Elvis left behind a good-looking corpse. I never understood why it was even on his mind but...Well...Ben didn’t leave behind a good-looking corpse. If anything, he’s quite repulsive.
I was pleased to note I could hardly smell him now. I’m not sure whether it’s because the vanilla plug-in air fresheners, and the can of Febreze, are working their magic or because I’ve simply grown accustomed to the stench. Either way, I’m thankful.
I’ll have a wash for myself too. Might make me feel better despite the lack of sleep. A nice wash, clean clothes and then I’ll sort his appearance out. Try, at least. Never applied make-up to a corpse before. How hard can it be? Certainly can’t be as hard as when I had to give him eye-liner for a fancy-dress party we had been invited to.
“Stay still,” I had told him.
“I can’t...” he had complained.
I had been sitting on his chest, on our bed, with the eye-liner pencil. It would have been much easier had he put it on himself but he moaned he didn’t know how to do it. Every time I moved the pencil closer to his eye, he shut his lids and wriggled around underneath me.
“If you don’t stop, I’ll take your eye out!” I had warned him.
“That’s what I’m afraid of!”
“Then stop moving! Quit being a baby!”
“Fuck you!” despite his language, at the time, we were laughing about it. Stolen laughter from an unexpected moment. The best kind.
Eventually we managed to get the eye-liner on him. It looked quite good. Suited him. Not that he would have admitted something like that. He felt it was ‘to feminine’ and couldn’t wait to get it off. At least it stayed on for the length of the party.
Anyway...Looking at him now, there’ll be no wriggling around this time.
I stepped back from the room and closed the door on him once more. Sort myself out first - then see what I can do to make him look better... A knock on the door distracted me from my thoughts. Who’s that? Shit! Could be his work. Come round to check up on him? Make sure he isn’t just taking the day off. No. They wouldn’t do that. No company does that. But it does remind me I need to give them another call in a minute - let them know he is still feeling under the weather.
Whoever it was knocked on the door again. My heart was in my throat. Should I ignore it? I can’t. What if they try and let themselves in? Never happened before but if they do - and they find me in here - it’ll only raise more questions as to why I didn’t answer to them.
Slowly I walked down the hallway, towards the front door, and - with a shaking hand - took a hold of the lock and turned it open. I pulled the door open to see Kelly stood there - a smile on her face.
“Ready?” she asked.
Shit! It’s Tuesday. Tuesday morning is always the same - we go to the supermarket together for a weekly shopping trip. Figured we were better of going together because it was more fun with company and it was better to share the cost of the journeys.
“I’m sorry,” I said, “I’m not feeling very well today. Mind if I skip?”
“Oh, right, okay, yeah...I mean, if you’re not well...What’s up?” typical nosy Kelly.
“It’s Ben...” I opened my mouth without thinking. What was I doing? Was I about to come clean to what I’d done? Was I about to confess that he was sitting dead in the living room?
“What’s up?” Kelly asked.
She won’t let it lie now.
Think fast.
“We have another argument and he stormed out. I haven’t seen him since.”
Kelly looked genuinely upset for me. I wasn’t expecting that. I started to cry. Not an act. The tears weren’t for my departed husband, though. No. They were for Kelly’s reaction to my news. Since what happened happened - I never thought someone would look at me again with such an expression on their face.
“I’m so sorry,” she sounded genuine. “Do you want to talk about it?”
She looked uncomfortable. Despite her sorrow to my situation - she looked as though she didn’t know the best way of dealing with it.
“He said he loved someone else and wanted to be with them,” I continued. Makes my situation sound more pathetic.
Kelly frowned, “Really? That doesn’t sound like him...”
Have I pushed it too far?
“I’m sorry but - I can’t do this now...” I went to push the door closed but Kelly blocked it with her foot.
“Wait! I’ll come round later...We’ll talk...”
I know she won’t leave me alone. She’ll keep hounding me now, if she thinks I am upset; want to make sure I am okay. I can’t let her in. Not with him in the dining room. The smell. I’m surprised she hasn’t smelt it yet.
“Can I come round yours? I just want to get out of this house for a bit...”
“Sure. Now?”
“Later - I’m going to make some calls. Maybe try and get some sleep.”
Kelly nodded. “As soon as you’re ready. I’ll be there.”
I thanked her and closed the door.
I didn’t mean to let slip Ben had left yet. I wanted his body disposed of first on the off chance people came round to the house to offer their support in my supposed hour of need. Now Kelly knows I am alone and ‘upset’ - I know she’ll be watching me closely, just to make sure I am okay.
This isn’t good. With her watching me like a hawk, it will make it virtually impossible to hide Ben anywhere other than in the house and...Well, there aren’t many hiding places to be found here.
No, this really isn’t good.
CHAPTER SIX
I put some of my liquid foundation onto the back of my hand and rubbed it in to warm it up. I find it easier to apply to the face doing it this way first - seems to go on smoother. I doubt it will be the perfect match for his current skin tone but it has to be better than the colour he is at the moment.
Using my brush, I applied some of the warmed foundation and started to apply it to his face. Best make a note to buy myself a new brush. Not sure I want to use this one again. Although it was worth sacrificing it. Already he’s starting to look much better. Not perfect. Far from it. But definitely better. So much easier to use a brush instead of fingers or even a sponge. It goes on so much cleaner. Gives a nice sheer coverage.
He’d be going mental at me now if he were able to. He hated it when I tried to use make-up on him. Whether it was a little make-up to cover a bruise or even an offer of some concealer to help cover a spot - he’d always flat out refuse it. A proper man’s man. At least, he pretended to be. I think he was more embarrassed I offered the use of make-up to help with his appearance if we were due to go out somewhere; as though I weren’t happy with him the way he was.
It doesn’t take long to cover his face with the foundation. Definitely not perfect. I took a step back. At least I can sort of recognise him again. Just about. His hair’s a mess from where he was laid down on the table all night. I ran my hands through it, to brush it back, and was horrified when a small clump came away between my fingers. What’s that about? I thought hair was one of the things which were meant to continue growing after death? Was that wrong? Must be. Okay. Don’t touch his hair again. Best off leaving it looking messy. Don’t want him bald!
I looked into the make-up bag, which I had earlier placed on the dining room table in front of where Ben was sat, and fished out a lipstick. I already know this is going to be the wrong colour. Too red. Still, it’s better than leaving his lips white. They just look weird at the moment. Unreal. I placed one hand on the back of his head, to keep it in place, and applied the red lipstick to his pale lips. Jesus, if ever I wondered what Ben would look like in drag...I dropped the lipstick into a plain carrier bag, without even closing it first. Along with the foundation brush, it’s ready for the bin. I took another step back to admire my handiwork.
I think it’s fa
ir to say I’d never find work preparing the bodies, for open caskets, at a Funeral Home. Even so, I feel better that I can at least recognise him a little better. Sort of. Hmmm...Thinking of Funeral Homes, I wonder if there’s anything on the Internet which could help me make him look more like the man I loved. There must be something.
I closed the make-up bag. He’s as done as he’s going to be - for now at least. I haven’t put any make-up on myself. I’m aware I look rough but, if I’m going round Kelly and Liam’s later on - pretending to be upset - I think it’s best I look like I’m going through Hell. After all, my husband has left me. I think, if that really were the case, I’d have other things on my mind instead of worrying whether I’m wearing make-up or not. Thinking of Liam and Kelly...The sooner I get round there and face the music, the better.
* * * * *
“Come in!” said Kelly upon opening her front door; the same sympathetic look on her face as earlier. “Have you heard from him?”
I stepped over the threshold and shook my head. She pointed in the direction of the lounge door - where Liam suddenly appeared from within. A similar look of sympathy on his face. Of course she had already told him. I expected nothing less.
“You okay?” he said. More of a rhetorical question, I think. The standard greeting from any man when they don’t really have a clue what to say. He stepped to one side to let me pass, “Make yourself at home. I’ll put the kettle on and leave you two ladies to it.”
As I walked into the room, he disappeared into the kitchen. Kelly came in behind me.
“I’m sorry, I hope you don’t mind, but I told Liam.”
Expected nothing less.
“It’s fine,” I said. There was little point in saying anything else. Even if I had been bothered - it was too late now. I took a seat on their comfortable, leather settee. She sat down next to me - closer than she’d usually sit. Moral support? A subconscious way of letting me know she’s here for me?
“I still can’t believe it,” she said. “I know you two had your problems but I never expected him to just take off. It seems so out of character for him.”
This is where I need to be extra careful. All it takes is for me to say the wrong thing to completely ruin my deceit. “He’s being doing lots of things which I thought were out of character for him recently...” I said.
“Have you tried calling him?”
“His mobile just goes straight through to voice-mail.”
“Do you leave a message?”
I shook my head, “What’s the point?”
Kelly didn’t have an answer for me. “What about trying to catch him at work?”
I didn’t answer her. I don’t want to tell her I’ve been calling into his work - on his behalf. She might find that strange.
“It might be worth a go?” she continued.
“I thought it’d make him angrier. Airing our dirty laundry in public...”
“I suppose...”
We fell into an uncomfortable silence - neither one of us knowing what to say.
Eventually Kelly broke it with, “Did you know the other woman?”
I shook my head. “He wouldn’t say who it was.”
“Sounds so unlike him. I’ve had never had believed it...”
She doesn’t believe me? What if she starts telling other people it sounds out of character for Ben? Would it arouse their suspicions too? Need to try and fix this.
“I had my suspicions...” I lied.
“Really?”
“Sometimes he’d get home late from work and jump straight into the shower. At first I thought it was a really heavy day shifting dirty gear but then I realised - on heavier days - he still came home and had a cup of tea before getting washed and changed. It was almost as though he was trying to cover something up...”
“Perfume? Could have been.”
“That’s what I thought too.”
“Asshole,” she said without thinking, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean that...”
“It’s okay, I’ve been thinking it ever since he walked out.”
She shook her head again as Liam walked into the room with a tray of drinks - one for Kelly, one for me and a third, I presume, for him. He sat down.
“I’m sorry to hear about Ben...” he said. “Kelly told me...”
Kelly hung her head, avoiding my eye-contact, as if she were ashamed at having shared my gossip with her husband. This was one occasion when I didn’t mind her telling others, though. The more people she told, the less I’d need to. The less chance my body language would give me away when I’m telling others.
“I have to say...It doesn’t sound like Ben...”
“That’s what I said...”
I looked up. He doesn’t believe me either? Neither of them believe me. The more people who stand up to voice their disbelief at my lie...How many more people would stand with them? What if one of them goes to the police? What if one of them tells the police they think I have killed him? They think I killed him and they think I’m hiding the body in my dining room. What if they tell the police about the pond? My plan to hide his body under various species of fish - species of fish I’m yet to decide upon?
“Are you okay?”
Kelly was looking at me. I had drifted off into my own little world without realising it. I nodded.
“I’m fine.”
“Did you want to stay here?” asked Liam. I noticed Kelly shot him a look. He didn’t. “Just, you know, if you don’t want to be alone right now.”
“Well, she can’t. He might come home. She’ll want to be there...” said Kelly.
What was that about? Keen for me not to be here. Keen for me to go home. She knows I’m a murderer. She can’t wait to get me out of here. Can’t wait for me to be in my own home so she can lock the doors and call the police in. I know. I know what she’s doing. She’s feeling threatened. No, she isn’t. Of course I’d want to be at home. Of course I’d want to be there on the off-chance he comes groveling through the front door. That’s what a normal wife would do. They’d wait. They’d wait because they’d know the husband would have to come home. Even if it were to only collect the rest of his stuff.
“She’s right,” I said, “but thank you.” An added ‘thank you’ to sound polite. “I best get back now, actually.”
“You’re not drinking your tea?” asked Liam.
I stood up. “No. He might come home. I need to be there.”
Both Kelly and Liam stood up too.
“I’ll see you out,” said Kelly.
I thought she might; wants to be sure I’ve left the house so she can carry on talking about me to her husband. Discuss what’s really happened to Ben. I walked out into the hallway. Kelly overtook me and raced in front, to open the front door for me. Normally I’d have thought she was being polite but...Not now. Now I know she wants me out because I’m a murderer. I know. She knows. Liam knows.
“Well, you know where we are if you need anything...” Liam shouted from the lounge doorway.
I turned back to address him, once I had stepped out of their house, “Thank you. Thank you both.”
Kelly smiled again. That familiar look of sympathy. It had me fooled, originally, but now I know it’s fake it’s annoying me. I turned away from the pair of them and started the walk back to my own house - a feeling of panic starting to set in.
CHAPTER SEVEN
The police will be here any minute. I know they will. It was the way Kelly was looking at me. She knew. I murdered Ben and she knows. As soon as she slammed the front door on me, she would have picked up the telephone to call the police. If not her - she would have made Liam do it.
“We are living next door to a murderer,” she’d shout at him.
“There’s no proof! We can’t just call the police! You heard her - he left. Went on with another woman...”
“And you agreed it doesn’t sound like something he’d do!”
I can hear the conversation now. At least I think I can. Thin walls.
“She’s hiding him in the dining room...”
“No I’m not!” I yelled through the wall.