Chapter 15
FIFTEEN
THREE MONTHS BEFORE OUR ANNIVERSARY CELEbrATION
Laura
I stare at my reflection. I no longer look like me.
I’m painfully thin, my clothes hang on me and my face has hollows below the cheeks.
I need new clothes and Jack is planning a wedding anniversary party aboard the Laura.
I can’t meet his friends looking like this.
Why hasn’t Jack taken me shopping? Maybe I should make an appointment with him?
Yes, it’s that bad. I need to ask Ruby to fit me into his schedule but I’ll have to wave her down the next time she flies past. That woman is always busy.
I wonder when she sleeps. I go into my dressing room and pull clothes from the hangers but find nothing to wear.
I’m not usually a person who lounges around all day in my nightwear but the skimpy negligees Jack used to love are the only things that fit me—not that he comes to my room anymore.
I take a shower and then drag on a gown only because my hair stylist is due soon.
She does my hair three times a week. Maybe I can talk to her, at least she can’t run away or make an excuse not to answer.
I’ve sent emails to my friends but very few reply.
It’s as if I’ve been sent to the naughty corner and that knowing me is social suicide.
Although, looking at me now, I’m not surprised.
I wrap a towel around my wet hair and grin at my reflection.
I don’t care. They’re all fakes, hanging around Jack in case I catch an incurable illness.
Any one of them will jump into my place before my corpse is cold.
Wrapping the gown around me and securing it with a belt, I walk out into the hallway as Jack comes out of his bedroom with Ruby beside him.
He’s dressed for work in his blue suit and she’s Ms. Corporate Fashion, wearing six-inch heels, a jacket, silk shirt and skirt.
She has her nose buried in her tablet as usual and is talking a mile a minute.
They both stop walking and stare at me as if I’ve suddenly grown two heads.
I smile. “Morning, Jack. I’m glad I caught you. ” I pull him into my room.
“Are you sick?” Jack examines my face. “Do you want me to call a doctor?”
Surprised by his compassion, I give him my best smile.
“I’m fine. I’m getting better all the time but I need new clothes.
With the weight loss it seems I don’t have a thing to wear.
Can you take me shopping in New York? I’ll need something special for the upcoming business events and of course our anniversary party. ”
“That’s not a problem.” He steps outside and turns to Ruby. “I need to organize a shopping trip. Fit it in ASAP.” He looks at me. “There, done.”
“We’ve already discussed this, Mrs. Hunter.” Ruby smiles at me as if I’m a small child. “Monday last. I asked Sue to measure you so I could order you some basic outfits. You can’t go out in your robe.”
I blink, wondering why she is lying to me. I look at Jack. “That isn’t true. I only thought about asking you to make time to go shopping just before, so how could I have spoken to Ruby?”
“She did mention something about you needing new clothes, Laura.” Jack steps closer and runs his hands down my arms. “Don’t get upset. The medication likely makes you forget things. It’s quite normal.”
I want to shout that I haven’t taken the medication for months.
Each time he gives it to me I flush it down the toilet.
I imagine the sewer rats must all have amnesia by now.
I laugh at the notion and catch myself when I see the confused expressions in their eyes.
I look at Jack, trying hard not to snigger.
“I recall everything else, Jack. Maybe Ruby discussed the clothes with you. I do remember telling her I’d lost weight. ”
“Your clothes will arrive today, Mrs. Hunter.” Ruby looked up from her tablet. “They’re coming by courier.”
“If you want me to take you shopping for something special, I’ll make time.” Jack walks me back to my room. “We’ll talk about it later.” He glances at the stairs. “Ah, here’s your hair stylist. I’ll leave you to it.” He kisses me on the cheek and then hurries away, Ruby following close behind.
I stare after them, dumbfounded. I hadn’t spoken to Ruby about my clothes, although I do recall mentioning my weight loss.
I can’t recall what day it was. I wave the stylist, Joan, into my bedroom and go and sit in the chair in front of the table below the window.
Outside, the waves pound the beach, the sky is angry and dark clouds rush across the horizon.
“How have you been this week, Laura?” Joan combs my wet hair and adds product from a large bag she’d placed on the table.
I don’t mind her using my first name; we’ve known each other since I moved into this horrible house. “Fine. Well, not fine really. I’m not sure if I’m becoming forgetful or someone is playing a sick game with me.”
“How so?” Joan uses her scissors to trim my long hair.
I explain and she nods. “Do I sound crazy to you?”
“Not at all.” Joan takes out the hairdryer and her brushes. “I know it’s old-fashioned but why not start a journal? Write down the things you need to remember and things that happened. Make a note of anything unusual and then you have a record and if anyone is gaslighting you, you’ll know.”
That makes sense and, if anything should happen to me, I’ll have a record for hopefully someone to find. Right now, I don’t trust anyone in this house. I look into the mirror Joan set up on the table and smile at her reflection. “What a brilliant idea. I’ll use my laptop.”
At last, some good advice—if I can trust Joan. I’m no fool. I know Jack is at the end of his rope with me. One more slip and I’ll be in trouble. He’d never divorce me, it would cause a scandal, but if I died suddenly Jack would be the grieving widower. I need to watch my back.