April
You have received an instant message from:
ISLA
Isla: Shockingly, Rocky Balboa is a good mother.
Jesy: Gawd, I hope you’re talking about your pet bird, Isla. I don’t fancy a mental breakdown today.
Isla: Not my pet. A nuisance. The bane of my existence. The reason I can’t sleep at night.
Jesy: Uh-huh. So, now you’re finished with the dramatics…
Isla: You know what’s worse?
Jesy: Please don’t mention the male again. Please do not mention the male.
Isla: There’s a male partridge on my property ready to knock Rocky up again!
Jesy: You mentioned the male again.
Jesy: I can’t believe you still have that thing living at the inn. I thought for sure he… she was a goner as soon as I wasn’t there to protect her.
Isla: It’s been tempting. But Ewan is fond of her.
Jesy: Ohhh! Isla and Ewan sitting in a tree…
Isla: My god, are you five?
Jesy: K-I-S-S-S-I-N-G
Isla: You added an extra S in kissing.
Jesy: Okay, well, now I feel five, so thanks for that.
Isla: Glad to be of service! What are you doing? Why are you doing it?
Jesy: I’m writing an email if you must know. The why is because my life no longer has meaning beyond being a slave for my husband and father-in-law, and I find joy where I can, emailing strangers and living vicariously through them.
Isla: So, just another Monday then?
Jesy: Ha. Aye. Just another Monday.
Isla: Jes, you know you can tell them no, right? That is a perfectly valid response.
Jesy: Is it? I don’t know any more. I keep saying they’re grieving. They deserve the support.
Isla: Oh, bull. Don’t pretend they didn’t treat you like shit before the ol’ cow decided to die.
Jesy: Isla! You can’t speak ill of the dead.
Isla: I can. And I will. Dying doesn’t make someone a saint. She was a bitch in life, and given the mess she’s left you with, she’s a bitch in death. Is this really what you want from life, Jes?
PENNY has entered the conversation
Jesy: Someone has their claws out tonight!
Isla: You sure you don’t wanna come work at the inn again? You only left to take care of Susan…
Jesy: Aye. I’d love to. But it’s not going to happen.
Isla: Why not?
Jesy: Well…
Jesy: I’ve got to take care of Thomas now, haven’t I?
Isla: Have you? So, if you’re taking care of Thomas, I assume Jerry is back at work.
Jesy: Well, no. He’s taken an extended leave of absence.
Isla: Paid?
Jesy: Not exactly.
Isla: Please come and work with me again.
Jesy: Isla! You’ve already found my replacement, and you said you liked Lauren. You can’t just rehire me.
Isla: I can and I will. And I’ll pay you more than what Jerry’s earning to justify it.
Jesy: Ha! You can’t afford more than what Jerry is earning. I know that inn inside out.
Isla: Ewan will help out. He’s just said.
Jesy: Ah. I love you guys. But there isn’t a job for me there anymore. We’re fine. Promise.
Penny: Define fine.
Penny: Actually, you know what, never mind. You are a grown woman, Jesy, and if you say you’re fine, you’re fine. What I want to know is who you’re emailing.
Jesy: Brian, the tech guy.
Penny: Who?
Isla: Brian, the tech guy. She just said.
Penny: Haha. Who is Brian, the tech guy?
Isla: Someone who works in tech, I’d assume.
Penny: Here’s a novel idea. Why doesn’t Jesy answer?
Isla: Oooh, yeah. Okay. Jesy, take the floor.
Jesy: He does work in tech.
Penny: Okay.
Isla: And?
Jesy: And that’s about all I know about him. I accidentally CC’d him into the emails for the funeral, and then he reached out to me.
Isla: He reached out to you?
Jesy: Yeah. He told me my family were insane.
Penny: No shit.
Jesy: And that he was the one who made the donation for the funeral costs.
Isla: He what?!
Jesy: And then he left me a gift voucher to go to a spa.
Penny: …
Isla: …
Jesy: Well, someone say something.
Isla: Are you okay, hen?
Jesy: What? Yes, of course I’m okay.
Penny: And you’re still talking to him?
Jesy: Here and there. We got chatting.
Penny: About what?
Jesy: This and that. No red flags.
Jesy: Seriously.
Isla: But you’re being careful?
Isla: Jes?
Penny: Jesy?
Jesy
I sit back in my chair, curling my fingers around my mug, my name filling the screen as my friends wait for a response.
I’d love to join the conversation.
This is how we spend most evenings, the three of us chatting away in an old school messaging service, living in the past and clinging to our youth.
Unfortunately, tonight I feel under a microscope.
Since when did I become someone my friends worry about? They’ve never liked Jerry, that’s true. But I’ve never felt this kind of urgency from them before.
Though I suppose I have been complaining a lot since Susan died.
Yeah, that’ll do it.
I need to make a note to tell people how wonderful my husband can be rather than just listing all his faults. Like, just last night (while I was sitting emailing another man), he ran me a bubble bath, sprinkled rose petals everywhere, and bought me a bottle of my favourite wine.
He didn’t make a move on me. Didn’t try to butter me up with apologies. Instead, we lay in the bath together, and he thanked me for everything I’ve done and put up with the past month or so.
And I don’t tell people about these quiet moments because they feel personal. Deeply intimate. But it’s the reason I stay.
I love my husband, and I know how much he loves me.
The problem is… nuance.
I complain to my friends. They are, understandably, incensed on my behalf. And for them, that’s where they stay. They’re not with me and Jerry after an argument where we take the time to talk it out. To understand one another’s perspectives.
We’ve had eight years of nights like last night, where we share a quiet moment and try to make sense of the world. But those beautiful, tender moments become shields if I use them as a defence.
They become associated with ugly words that have no space in my marriage.
Gaslighting.
Manipulation.
Abuse.
I shudder and close my laptop lid.
I’ll apologise to the girls later; tell them I lost connection or something.
Or, you know, the truth like a fucking adult.
Having a ‘marriage in crisis’ is one hell of a headache, it has to be said.
It’s turning me into a jaded, bitter woman. I think back to that silence that followed my no red flags comment, and I cringe because I can fill the silence with unspoken thoughts.
How can I judge red flags when I’m blind to every single one of Jerry’s?
Maybe that’s my paranoia speaking. I don’t know if my friends would think so harshly of me.
My husband is a deeply flawed creature. But so am I. Neither of us is blind to each other’s faults. What matters is how we address them.
I can say one thing for certain: he’s not messaging other women in secret.
Fuck.
What am I doing?
Brian and I could not be having a more innocent conversation. There’s not even a hint of suggestion in our words. But how many times have I hidden what I’m doing?
There would be nothing to hide if my actions were innocent. I try to imagine how I’d feel if Jerry had a secret female confidant that he allowed to call me names, and an uncomfortable feeling bubbles in my stomach.
Well.
That’s that then, isn’t it?
No more talking to Brian. No more secret emails.
I need to learn to speak to my friends more honestly, that’s what I need.
15 Apr | From: Brian Trainer | To: Jesy Pattinson
Subject: Hey Stranger
Evening Jesy,
It occurred to me that it’s been a little while since we last spoke. I was wondering why my inbox was suspiciously quiet!
Perhaps our companionship has run its course, and that’s okay. But I thought I’d check in one last time, just in case.
All the best,
Brian.
15 Apr | From: Jesy Pattinson | To: Brian Trainer
Subject: RE: Hey Stranger
My friends think you’re a murderer.
15 Apr | From: Brian Trainer | To: Jesy Pattinson
Subject: RE: Hey Stranger
And hello to you too, Jesy.
15 Apr | From: Jesy Pattinson | To: Brian Trainer
Subject: RE: Hey Stranger
Are they wrong?
15 Apr | From: Brian Trainer | To: Jesy Pattinson
Subject: RE: Hey Stranger
Oh, okay. We’re doing this.
Well, I can assure you, I am not a murderer. I don’t even have errant murderous thoughts. I don’t think I’d have the balls to take someone’s life.
Saying that, though, I think everyone is capable with the right circumstances. I’m just saying my right circumstances are end of the world kind of shit.
15 Apr | From: Jesy Pattinson | To: Brian Trainer
Subject: RE: Hey Stranger
I’m not sure you’re being as reassuring as you think you are.
Whatever.
I don’t think you’re a murderer. But now I can tell my (well-meaning) busy body friends that I am safe talking to you as long as the world isn’t ending.
They’ll be thrilled to know I am not going to end up as a statistic on the news. They’ve been fascinated with this since I happened to mention our emails.
In their mind, you’re a crazed stalker with nefarious intentions and not an uber nerd.
Although I suppose, with how good you are at tech, you could have added some sort of tracker to me…
15 Apr | From: Brian Trainer | To: Jesy Pattinson
Subject: RE: Hey Stranger
Damn, another plan foiled!
Actually, no. I’m not making that joke. Just to be clear, there is absolutely no way I can add a tracker to our emails and search you down.
I make games, Jesy. I don’t hack people.
Is this why you’ve been quiet? Because your friends were worried?
15 Apr | From: Jesy Pattinson | To: Brian Trainer
Subject: RE: Hey Stranger
No.
I was being a coward.
15 Apr | From: Brian Trainer | To: Jesy Pattinson
Subject: RE: Hey Stranger
Do tell.
You have received an instant message from:
JESY
Jesy: I decided to stop talking to you.
Brian: Now? Because I hate to break it to you, but this is talking. Even more so than our emails were.
Jesy: Aye, okay, smart arse. I meant when I was being a coward.
Brian: Which you’re not being now?
Jesy: Obviously not.
Brian: Wanna fill in some of the blanks for me? Not that being out of the loop isn’t delightful.