Then her phone rang. It was Madge’s number on the display. Joan answered.
‘Joan! Joan, love! Is this true? Has Victor left you? I tried to get hold of you all night! How are you?’
Joan swallowed. Then she began to sob down the phone.
‘Joan, I’m coming over! What you need is some company!’
‘No, no, I’m fine.’
‘I’m coming over! We’re both coming over, Ted and me, right now! Ted’s taken the morning off work. We’ll be with you in half an hour. That’s what friends are for!’
‘Madge, that’s kind of you, but I’m fine—’ Joan stopped. She realized Madge had hung up.
‘Shit!’ she said.
Then she sniffed. She suddenly noticed a strange smell. But it was not that strange. It was a smell she knew only too well.
It was cigar smoke, again.
It was the smell of Victor’s cigars. It was getting stronger by the second. ‘Can you smell it?’ she said to Don.
‘Smell what?’
Joan closed her eyes. ‘You must be able to smell it!’
‘I can’t smell anything.’
‘Jesus, Don, what’s the matter with you?’
‘What’s the matter with
‘I AM CALM!’ she yelled at him. ‘Just take all the stuff from last night and GO! GET OUT OF HERE. TED AND MADGE ARE COMING. GO!’
Don took all the empty bags and tools and loaded them into his van, which was once again backed up against the garage door. ‘I’ll call you later, my love,’ he said.
But Joan did not hear him. She was in the shower, scrubbing her body and washing her hair.
Stepping out, she dried herself, then towel-dried her hair. She sat down at her dressing table in front of the bed and began to apply some make-up. As she was putting on her lipstick, something moved in the mirror.
She spun round.
Victor was standing in the doorway. He was smiling at her.
Not the fat, balding Victor with a comb-over. It was the young, handsome Victor that she had married. Young, slim Victor, with his smooth brown hair and his gorgeous smile.
‘I’m sorry,’ she said. ‘I – I don’t know what happened. To us. Right?’
The doorbell rang.
Victor vanished.
She ran down the stairs and opened the front door. Her hair was a mess, her make-up only half on. Madge and Ted stood there. Each of them gave her a big hug.
‘You poor thing!’ Madge said.
‘So where’s the old bugger gone, then?’ said Ted. ‘Chopped him up, have you, and buried him under the kitchen floor?’
‘That’s not funny, Ted!’ Madge chided.
‘I’ve thought about doing that to Madge a few times, I don’t mind telling you!’ Ted said.
‘Oooh, you’re so wicked!’ Madge replied. ‘Don’t listen to him! Come on, love, let’s get the kettle on. Tell us all about it.’
Joan put the kettle on and told them all about it. She just left out the bit about her and Don being lovers, and the bit about killing Victor, and the bit about burying him under the garage floor. Apart from that, she told them pretty much everything.
Which was nothing.
Ted summed it up. ‘So, he got made redundant and was depressed?’
‘Yes,’ Joan said.
‘Why didn’t the stupid bugger tell us?’ Ted asked.
Joan shrugged. ‘Pride, I suppose.’
‘Pride comes before the fall,’ Madge said, unhelpfully.
‘I’ll give him a piece of my mind when I see him,’ Ted said. ‘Making a drama out of this! Losing your job is nothing these days. I could lose mine at any time.’
‘You’d better not,’ Madge warned him sharply.
‘Just teasing!’ Ted laughed, and kissed her.
