Chapter 11
The next morning, Paula is more than a little alarmed to find Audrey and Teddy waiting on her doorstep.
‘We’re going on a recruitment drive,’ Teddy tells her cheerfully without a hello.
There are new sunglasses on her head today.
The leopard-print frames match the print on her low-cut top.
Audrey bundles past Paula and into her hallway, ‘Grab your coat, my darling, it’s chilly out there today.
’ She doesn’t wait for Paula to follow instructions, instead locating the coats cupboard and helping herself to the nearest hanging jacket.
Audrey herself seems to be wearing two coats – as well as her signature flowing scarf.
‘Are these the keys for your front door?’ Audrey calls now, picking up a set by the door and herding a nodding Paula out into the front garden.
‘Where are we going?’ Paula asks dumbly, as Audrey helps her into the jacket. It’s huge on her and she wonders whether to mention that it belongs to her son, Seb.
‘I told you,’ Teddy replies coolly, running long fingernails through blonde hair. ‘We’re recruiting.’
‘Recruiting for what?’ Paula shakes her head, following Teddy down the path. She scans the road. At least there are no photographers outside today.
Teddy glances back at Paula over her shoulder. ‘For The Lottery Winner Widows Club,’ she grins.
‘I’m driving!’ Audrey sings. ‘You can sit in the front, Paula.’
This makes Teddy snort, and Paula understands her amusement when she spots Audrey’s car.
There is no back seat.
It’s a Jaguar E-Type classic. A flashy, silver convertible with the roof already down.
Teddy throws long limbs into the passenger side, and pulls Paula in – along with her giant boy coat – and onto her lap.
In the footwell beneath them, yesterday’s dog yips.
Audrey revs the engine, pulling violently out into the road and taking off at speed.
The older woman’s scarf flicks violently in the car around them, briefly blinding Paula as they launch over a speed bump.
Paula misses the curry bus.
‘She’s a beaut, isn’t she?’ Audrey yells into the wind as they hit the open road, her hair and scarf whipping up around her face.
She surely cannot see a thing. ‘It was my husband’s car.
He had it fully restored – no expense spared, of course.
1962 Jag, Series 1, the original 3.8 straight six.
Four-speed Moss Box. Original Marston-style aluminium radiator, fifteen-inch Chrome wire wheels. ’
Paula nods politely, with no idea what any of it means.
Audrey cackles. ‘Of course I have no idea what any of that means,’ she says.
‘But he said it all the time.’ She pauses to narrowly miss a tree before continuing, ‘He refused to actually drive it so it sat in our garage for all those years! Turns out it’s super fun to drive!
And I can get it up to a hundred, easily.
Shall we?’ She glances around for approval.
Paula tries to protest but she’s frozen in terror.
She wants to ask where they’re going and what they’re doing, but can’t focus.
Instead, she clings furiously to the car door handle as Audrey whips the steering wheel side to side, veering all over the small country roads.
Teddy sighs, shifting underneath Paula. ‘Audrey, you’re scaring our new friend again. Slow down a bit, can you? Haven’t you already killed enough people?’
Audrey throws her head back to hack that laugh as Paula grips the door even harder.
Killed?
Paula had just about convinced herself Teddy’s kitchen confession was a joke, so what does this mean? She really did it? They both did?
Audrey stops laughing at last, glancing over at Paula in the passenger seat.
‘I think you’re the one scaring her, Teddy,’ she shrieks, but Paula feels the car’s speed slow a little.
‘I didn’t realise you’d already told her the biggest secret of The Lottery Winner Widows Club.
’ She pauses. ‘Are you OK, Paula darling? Don’t be frightened, we only murder awful husbands.
And you obviously know all about that, don’t you, my darling? ’
Paula glances wild-eyed over at Audrey who is – for once – watching the road. ‘I didn’t kill John,’ she says, finding her voice at last. ‘Did you two really . . . Did you honestly . . . Did you do it?’
There is quiet in the car, save for the sound of the roaring motor and howling wind.
Beneath her, Teddy reaches forward to stroke the dog’s ears.
After another moment, she breathes out lightly into Paula’s hair.
‘My husband was a piece of shit. A gaslighting asshole. When I said I wanted a divorce, he said he’d never let me go and held my hand over an open flame.
’ She shakes her head, gripping her left fingers with her right hand.
‘I look back at the me I was when I met him and can’t believe it’s the same person.
I really thought he was my Mr Darcy. He turned out to be more Mr Asshole. ’
‘Mr Darsehole,’ Audrey adds solemnly.
‘Mr Dasshole,’ Teddy agrees.
‘No,’ Audrey replies sternly. ‘The pun doesn’t work in your accent. It’s Mr Darsehole or it’s nothing.’
Teddy rolls her eyes. ‘Whatever. Mr Darsehole .’ She pauses and her breathing slows. ‘I told him he’d never get to touch me again and then I caved in his temple. The rest of it you already know. Mr Darsehole’s been under the patio a couple of years now.’
The driving gets worse as Audrey picks up the thread.
‘My husband was ill for a long time.’ She gives Paula a penetrating look, ignoring the road.
‘When my children were young, he was ill. And when I say ill, I mean he was sick . He did things a father never should.’ She takes a moment.
‘I didn’t know. I found out later, when we were already too old.
’ Clouds pass across her face, then she brightens.
‘But it wasn’t too late to do something about it.
Because by then he was ill physically as well.
His heart, such a shame. He needed a lot of looking after.
He was on all this medication. It was hard to keep track of all of it, you know?
’ The car’s speed picks up again as she continues, ‘Do you know what happens when you take too much heart medication, Digitalis, Paula?’ The dog barks and Paula rubs its ears.
It is as much for her own comfort as the dog’s.
Audrey continues blithely, ‘When you have more than ten milligrams of the stuff, you get all drowsy and dizzy. You start hallucinating and apparently some people see all kinds of fun colours! It sounds quite a nice experience actually, doesn’t it?
Oh, but then you die. Whoops.’ She pouts, her eyes twinkling.
‘Whoops indeed,’ Teddy adds dryly. ‘That was a little over five months ago, right, Audrey?’ She nods. ‘Then we met and decided to put together this club. The Lottery Winners Widows Club.’
‘Do you think that sounds a bit bleak?’ Audrey frowns.
‘Maybe we should be The Lottery Winners Single Gals Club!’ She cackles.
‘You know I got myself straight onto Bumble after getting rid of Harold. But everyone I matched with immediately asked for money to save a dying relative or a pet. My daughter said it’s quite a common scam and they target vulnerable old ladies.
I was very upset she’d called me vulnerable. ’
‘Yes, it’s called romance fraud,’ Paula confirms. ‘I saw a show all about it on Netflix called Love Rat .’ She swallows. ‘I’ve watched a lot of telly since I lost John. I haven’t done much else.’
‘I like the name, The Lottery Winners Widows Club,’ Teddy says firmly.
‘It’s a bit clunky-sounding – maybe a bit long?’ Paula offers. ‘Perhaps The Widows Club would be simpler?’
‘But that’s the depressing part!’ cries Audrey. ‘We should at least emphasise the lottery win.’
‘Do you even need a group name?’ Paula asks quietly and Audrey jerks the wheel around a corner.
‘Of course we do, my darling!’ She shoots her a look.
‘And it’s we . You’re a member now. You’re one of us, Paula.
There’s no escaping us!’ She says this gleefully, adding, ‘ We’re The Lottery Winner Widows Club!
We’re in it together.’ The way she says this sends cortisol shooting through Paula.
They’re in it together. In what exactly?
‘And hopefully after today, we’ll have a couple more members,’ Teddy says as Paula strains against the seatbelt.
‘Is that what you meant before? About going on a recruitment drive?’
She feels Teddy nod. ‘Yes, we’ve found two more women who won the lottery and offed their husbands. And we’re going to see them right now.’
Audrey giggles, jerking the wheel round a corner. ‘You wouldn’t think there would be so many of us, would you, darling?’
Paula shakes her head, but it is not meant as an answer, just bewilderment. How did she get pulled into all this?
‘It’s only an hour to Buckinghamshire,’ Teddy tells her. ‘That’s where Maisie lives. She actually went to prison for killing her husband after they won the lottery, but she was released on appeal. Lawyer error, I hear. Now she lives in a lovely big house in Beaconsfield, enjoying the high life.’
‘How do you know all this?’ Paula murmurs.
Audrey raises her eyebrows, her white hair wild about her face. ‘We have our ways, my darling. And Maisie went really rather public about her situation.’ She glances over, her eyebrows still high. ‘As did you, Paula. You’ve not been terribly subtle with all this business, have you, eh?’
Paula coughs, choking on all the words she would like to say.
‘And once we’ve convinced Maisie to join our group,’ Teddy continues, ‘we’ll head on over to Cambridge. It’s just over an hour to reach Ivy Kirk. She’s been through a lot and she’s only twenty-something, poor thing.’
‘Poor thing?’ Paula enquires, wondering what horrors this Ivy has endured.
Teddy tuts. ‘Yes, poor thing. Being in your twenties is the worst.’