Page 43 of Perfect Wives
‘It’s not Magnolia Close anymore. It’s Murder Close,’ I heard one of the dads say at the drop-off this morning. A loud man with a large belly and sweat stains under his arms.
My stomach knots every time I think about the murder. The thought that it could be one of us in Magnolia Close. These people I’ve lived with for years. People I trust. They are morethan neighbours. They are friends. Can one of us really have killed Jonny? Could someone have hated him more than I did? Had more reason to kill him than I did? I search for any hint of who could have done this, but there’s nothing beyond my own hate and how I was too much of a coward to do anything about it.
‘This too shall pass,’ I whisper quietly to myself.
The mums are no longer looking my way as I reach the gates. I’m being paranoid. It’s the police discovery of the hidden camera yesterday. The announcement of strong leads. The growing sense that Sató thinks it’s one of us. It’s making me paranoid. Like I’ve done something wrong. It hasn’t helped that I feel Nate watching me more carefully at home since the detectives’ visit. He thinks I was acting strangely. I think he was lying about the TV being on loud. We haven’t talked about it since, but every time I turn around, I find him lingering in the doorway, studying me.
I reach the school gates and pause, forcing the thoughts away with a breath. The second I step inside the playground, my gaze snags on a familiar figure. Sharp black bob. Bright-red lips. I watch her head tilt back. That familiar laugh I remember from the pub. Another step and fear clutches at my heart as I see who she’s talking to. Nate.
He’s standing close to her, smiling. Relaxed. His lips are quirked up, that smile he saves for the other mums that’s just a little flirty, giving them his ‘look what a great dad I am’ routine that isn’t a lie but isn’t quite the truth either.
Oscar adores Nate. And he is a great dad. When he wants to be. When he decides to shine a spotlight on our son and dazzle him with attention. But sometimes it feels like neither of us exist in Nate’s orbit. In those times, I double down on being the best mum I can be, keeping Oscar’s attention on me like it’s a magic trick – a sleight of hand to make sure he doesn’t notice what’s missing.
What are they talking about?
Any second now, they’ll turn and see me. I have seconds to paste a friendly smile on my face and act like this woman doesn’t know we planned to murder a man who is now dead. Something I don’t want Nate to find out. Nate knows Jonny wasn’t my favourite person, but he doesn’t know why I hated him. If he discovers I went so far as to wish him dead, he’ll want to know why.
I won’t let that happen.
My pulse kicks up again, and without a second glance, I spin on my heels and stride away so fast, I scuff one of my new boots on the pavement. A minute later, I’m at the top of the road leading to Magnolia Close, firing a message to Nate to tell him I’ve been held up and I’ll meet him and Oscar at home.
I can’t paste on that smile. I can’t pretend everything is fine.
My hands are shaking as I tap my key fob and slip through the gates, breathing a sigh of relief to see no sign of Sató’s car this afternoon. And still, there’s something different about the circle of homes today. Like I’ve stepped into a warped reality where the world looks the same but everything in it is different.
As soon as I’m in my house, I bolt up the two flights of stairs. There are only two rooms on the top floor. Nate’s study and a small bathroom with a white suite with small sand-toned tiles I chose to feel like a spa. Not that anyone but Nate uses it. The top floor has always been his domain.
Both doors are closed.
It was announced on the local news headlines today that the police believe Jonny was killed by someone he knew. Considering how much time they’re spending in the close, it’s clear Sató believes it was one of us.
Nate said he left the quiz early. He said it was only ten minutes before the end, but he could be lying about that too. And then there’s the camera. Someone spying on us all.
I reach for the handle of Nate’s study. It moves, but the door doesn’t open. I try again, but it’s the same. What the hell? It’s been a while since I came up here, but I’m certain there was never a lock on his door. When did he have it installed? And why?
There’s a loud crash downstairs – the front door slamming open – and then Oscar’s familiar voice: ‘I’m hungry!’
Panic jerks through me. I race down the stairs and dive into our bedroom, flipping the laundry basket lid and grabbing a towel as if that had been my destination all along. But I needn’t have worried. Nate’s scrolling through his phone, a frown pinching his brow as he passes me on the stairs, muttering something about a meeting before disappearing. I listen and yes, there’s the click of a lock being turned. The door opens. Closes. Another click as the lock is turned again – this time from the inside.
I throw myself into spending time with Oscar, but I can’t stop thinking about the door and what Nate could be hiding in that room. I can’t escape the growing feeling that beneath the sheen of our perfect marriage is something not just crumbling, but dark and rotten.
5 DAYS EARLIER
Magnolia Close WhatsApp Group
Bill (No. 5)
I heard there was a breakthrough in the investigation over the weekend.
Ryan (No. 9)
With the hidden camera or Jonny’s murder? I’ve got my suspicions.
Susie (No. 11)
We all have!!!
Jean (No. 5)
