MCNAMARA BOOK SET ONE (McNamara Series, #1)

CHAPTER TWO-3

MRS THOMPSON NOTICED the cars crowded in front of the Dobbs’ house. After what happened the night before, she was more than curious.

She went outside with a determination that she didn’t usually feel, and headed directly to DS James who was speaking to a man dressed in a brown jacket. She’d already seen James the night before when he talked to them and she felt confident in approaching him.

“Do you mind, sir? What’s happened now?” she asked him.

“You’d better go inside, ma’am,” James replied and turned her towards her own house. “We’ll stop by your house later and we’ll explain everything then.”

Alice Thompson didn’t want to leave, but she couldn’t find an excuse or something smart to say so that she could stay there and find out what was going on. As usual, she obeyed because she didn’t know to refuse a direct order, even though James made it sound like a mere request.

Lost in her thoughts, she returned to her house with small steps. Someone called her name.

“Alice, what’s going on?” asked a woman in a summer outfit, completely inadequate for the chilly weather of the morning.

The summer was flirting with its last days, and autumn was already in the air and in the colour of the leaves. The temperature wasn’t as high as it used to be, and that flimsy outfit didn’t offer any protection against the chill.

The strange woman was Mary Reid, her neighbour. She’d also heard the sirens of the police cars.

As a woman who shared the imagination of two people at least, and especially after witnessing the events of the night before, she imagined the worst. Out of the ordinary was the fact that she wasn’t far from the truth this time.

Mary was a woman a little over thirty, but not the typical thirty-year old. She was slightly plump, swarthy-faced and green-eyed. Yet, her temper was in total contradiction with the type of woman she was portraying.

She’d married one or two years before. Alice didn’t know exactly how long ago because the Reids had moved into the area only half a year before. They bought the house from Mr MacDonald’s grandsons, who had been trying to move that house off the market for quite some time. Poor Mr MacDonald had died one year earlier almost to the day.

Alice and Mary made some sort of friends, some said, but only because they stayed at home in the morning, while their husbands went to town for work. They weren’t very close, even though there wasn’t a gap in age between them. Yet, they had completely different interests and weren’t fit to be friends.

Alice was the typical and obedient housewife, who had only her house and husband on her mind all day long.

Mary was nothing of the kind. She was a modern and independent woman. Understandably, she didn’t seem to need or heed her husband’s opinions. She would do whatever she wanted regardless what that poor guy would say.

Consequently, the quarrels coming from their house were legendary, and even quite entertaining sometimes. Some neighbours craved them. It was a free show after all and made them forget about their pesky little rows.

“I don’t know, Mary,” Alice finally answered. “I’m afraid, you know. I think something bad happened at the Dobbs’ again. Something happened to Mrs Dobbs. That young policeman over there didn’t want to tell me anything... He sent me packing quite fast. He said they were going to talk to us later,” Alice shared what she knew.

She headed to her house, failing to see the disappointed grimace on Mary’s face, who was put out by the lack of news.

Suddenly, Alice turned back and asked, “What do you think, Mary, would you come for tea? Oh, sorry, I’d better invite you to coffee. I know you don’t like tea, although I don’t understand why,” she said apologetically.

However, she didn’t feel any remorse. She’d intentionally had that ‘slip’ of the tongue. In reality, she didn’t like Mary, but she had to pass her time somehow. Mary was as good as any.

“I don’t know, Alice,” Mary said pensively without paying any attention to the woman’s reproach.

She appeared to sink deeply into her thoughts, and Alice felt like slapping her. Mary would always think of something! She would never react like a normal person and accept an invitation without having to ponder it.

“All right, I’ll come,” Mary replied. “I can’t work now anyway. There’s too much noise coming from across the street and I would think only of what happened there and make a lot of speculations... All right, I’ll come. At least, if I spend some time with you, I’ll relax a little, and then, I’ll be able to work more and even better,” Mary concluded, cheerfully following Alice.

Hearing about her work, which she loathed, Alice turned up her nose. Mary failed to see. She’d learnt to ignore Alice’s disapproval.

Alice didn’t think Mary’s work was a dignified occupation for a married woman. In her opinion, Mary should have taken more care of her household, instead of wasting her time with such absurd things.

Obviously, she’d expressed her opinions loudly, and not only once. But then, Mary only laughed at her and didn’t care for her ideas.

Alice opened the door and invited her into the house. She led the way into the kitchen, where Mary sat down at the kitchen table.

Alice started making coffee for Mary and tea for herself. Her face showed she’d have liked to say something and she was trying hard to keep her mouth shut.

Mary silently observed her. Alice’s efforts amused her, and her eyes shone with glee. She knew Alice well enough and she was aware the woman wanted to say something, probably some wife-to-wife reproach, as she usually did. However, this time, she didn’t seem to have the courage to start.

Mary had had a very boring morning and needed a little entertainment, so she decided to nudge Alice a little. It wasn’t like she cared about what Alice had to say anyway. She’d never paid attention to her words but, now and then, she liked to play the game. Well, it was probably petty of her but she enjoyed seeing Alice all worked up, only to run out of steam at the end.

“All right, Alice, say it. If you have something to say, just say it. You shouldn’t hold back. You know I couldn’t ever get mad at you,” Mary said.

She added in her mind, ‘You’re a stupid cow and you don’t have a back bone, so why the hell would I get upset with you?’

Alice thought for a few seconds more, trying to choose the most appropriate words.

“You know Mary, I heard your husband yelling at you yesterday evening. Again... You know, far from me to advise you how to run your marriage... far from me, of course... You know me. I think everyone should do whatever they want,” she said, thinking exactly the opposite. “But,” she continued coyly, “maybe... if you took more care of him and if you took more care of your household chores... I mean, a wife should always put her husband first... everything else should come second.”

“I know that’s what you think, Alice. But I don’t,” Mary replied in a determined voice.

She enjoyed egging Alice. She didn’t consider herself a mean person, but she did like throwing Alice’s opinions back in her face.

“A husband may be here today, Alice. Tomorrow, he might be with another woman. Believe me, my dear, nothing will stop that... if it’s meant to be. Even if you cook the perfect dinner and your house is spotless, Alice. But, you see, if Michael leaves me, I won’t have to ask money from him or to wait for alimony every month. I won’t be afraid he might want to punish me or not give me two pennies. I won’t wonder whether he sends me the money on time so that I could pay rent or food or whatever. I’ll have my work and make my own money. That’s the truth, Alice. I’ll have my work whatever the situation. It’s something I can rely on. He can stay or he can go... Anyway, I won’t spend my entire day cooking his favourite dishes. I’d die in less than a week. He knows that. And he also knows he isn’t everything in my life. He’s not so sure about me now, so he might think twice before shopping around for a new woman... And, if he does — which I don’t think it’s impossible, by the way — I won’t join the line of those deserted women, left with nothing to their name.”

“I can’t believe what you’re saying. I can’t, you hear me,” Alice exclaimed heatedly. “A husband always appreciates when his wife takes care of the small things for him. He appreciates her if she’s there for him. When he knows he is the first and most important thing in her life, of course he appreciates and loves his wife more and he won’t desert her. I saw that with Mr Thompson. I know what I’m saying,” she nodded knowingly.

‘You know nothing, damn it!’ Mary said to herself. She knew what the ‘wonderful’ Mr Thompson did, as well as most of the people living in their neighbourhood.

Yet, she couldn’t let her friend know. That would have been spiteful. And anyway, it wouldn’t do any good. Alice wouldn’t believe her. She would even accuse her of being envious.

So, instead, she said, “Maybe, Alice. Maybe you’re right,” she repeated for good measure. “But you see, I saw my mother. She was exactly like you — the caring and hardworking little housewife who didn’t think of anything else but her husband and his whims. When he took off, he left her behind, alone, with three children to bring up by herself, because, of course, he didn’t care about any of us. She didn’t have money in her pockets, and she’d been left without a friend in the world. All their friends were his, not hers. They turned their backs on her as soon as he moved out of the house. So, she had to start all over again. If you think about it, she had no training, nothing. It was a very difficult time for her... I’m sure you can’t even imagine. The only thing she knew was to clean people’s houses... So, Alice, I’m sorry, but I prefer being exactly the way I am. You see, if Michael leaves me one day, I won’t be left with no job, money or friends. And, by the way, so you know, I prefer having my own friends, if you understand me, not his.”

Alice couldn’t say anything for a few moments and decided to keep her counsel. She still thought that Mary had it all wrong.

Who knows? Maybe her mother wasn’t good enough to keep her marriage strong. And after all, like mothers, like daughters. Considering Mary’s aversion to household chore or heeding her husband’s wishes.... Well, that said something about her mother, as well.

Alice was convinced that her husband wouldn’t desert her if she kept doing her best. No, her husband wouldn’t do that, unlike Mary’s, who would do it in the blink of an eye.

Mary was far too lazy and didn’t do anything for her spouse. She hardly cooked and preferred to buy everything already prepared from the grocer’s. Now, what man wouldn’t like a nice homemade meal, at least now and then? A man worked hard to provide for his wife so he had the right to demand it.

Mary didn’t take care of his clothes. Mr Reid’s shirts weren’t always ironed and sometimes, even his trousers looked a little wrinkled. Mary didn’t care if he was tired when he returned home from work and she would ask him to mow the lawn or do other things in the house.

That was something Alice would never do. And to think she’d even heard Mary telling him to start cleaning if he wanted a neat house and ironing his clothes if he wanted unwrinkled clothes. That was unacceptable. A wife shouldn’t ever do that, Alice shook her head in disbelief.

Mary had a completely different position. She considered Alice a simpleton, even if she was a few years older. Alice lived in her own world, disconnected from reality. Mary knew, as everyone in the street did, that Mr Thompson was seeing Ann, the young typist living on the same street. He wasn’t as faithful as his wife believed.

Having a mistress took its toll. That was why he was so tired when he came back home at night. There were rumours that he might have had other women stashed in town, as well.

Alice never asked him to do anything in the house, since she took care of every comfort for him. He was living the high life, like a king in his own castle.

He had Alice for cleaning, cooking and taking care of his clothes and other boring details of his life. He also had Ann for his soul and for fun, and God knew how many others to entertain him in town.

Mary couldn’t tell that to Alice. Now that would have been cruel. That would have crushed the little wife, so proud of her marriage and her husband.

Mary had a moment of uncertainty. Maybe Alice wasn’t as satisfied as she pretended to be. Wouldn’t that be news? However, only God knew!

Alice’s marriage was not as vocal as hers. No one really knew what happened behind the flowery curtains carefully drawn over all the windows of their house.

Alice continued to drink her tea in silence, lost in thought. She felt bitter. Daniel wasn’t as loving as he’d been during the first months of their life together. She consoled herself that everything was for the best because she couldn’t deal with his passion. Aye, maybe, it was better like that, although, sometimes, she would have wanted something different.

Something important was missing from her life. It bothered her that she couldn’t say what. Alice didn’t want to think of that anymore, so she turned her eyes to Mary.

“What are you writing these days?”

It wasn’t as if she’d had any real interest in Mary’s writing. She didn’t read anything else but some magazines and the newspapers Daniel brought home in the evening. She only needed a distraction, something to make her forget about her restlessness.

“Oh, that. Just a little story with ghosts,” Mary cheered up and laughed merrily.

She liked talking about her work. There, she felt on a safe territory because she knew what she was doing. She didn’t experience any uncertainties as she did in her real life.

“The ghost of a man falls in love with a living woman and pursues her everywhere. It’s something romantic with some comic scenes here and there. All sorts of funny things happen.”

“I wouldn’t like to read it,” Alice exclaimed.

The idea of such a love relationship shocked her. She was a pragmatic woman, in her way, and she had no taste for things like that. The disdain and repulsion in Alice’s eyes upset Mary.

“Don’t worry,” Mary snapped. “There are a lot of other people who like to read such things. My editor told me I could make good money with it. This is also important, don’t you think? I want to visit Egypt one day, and who knows, maybe this little novella might help me see my dream come true,” said Mary winking, just to annoy Alice, because she knew Alice didn’t like it. She’d seen her making faces a few times in the past whenever Mary winked at her.

“All right, all right, I hope you can do it,” Alice grumbled. “Do you want some more coffee, Mary?” she asked, suddenly sick of Mary. She wanted her out of her house.

‘No, thank you,” Mary replied. She knew well what Alice was feeling. “I think I should go. I have a lot to write – deadlines, you know. So I’d better go now. See you soon. Maybe we’ll see each other later,” she threw over her shoulder on her way out.

Alice just nodded and closed the door behind her. Alice washed the cups and put them back in the cupboard in the exact spot she had chosen for them.

Alice didn’t like changes. She loathed seeing a thing in a different place than the one she’d decided upon since the beginning.

Unwillingly, she started thinking of Mary’s weird marriage with Michael Reid and their terrible fights. Their shouting reached her, even though she was living two houses away from them.

The entire street heard them. They had become famous around there and represented one of the entertainment outlets of the little street where usually nothing happened. Well, at least until last night.

Alice shook her head sadly. She was convinced the Reids’ marriage wouldn’t last and, in a way, it was a pity.

Mary was too self-centred to hold onto her marriage. Worse, she wasn’t willing to make the smallest effort to keep her marriage intact. It was as if marriage hadn’t mattered to her at all.

Michael would definitely have enough of all that drama one day and leave her with her stupid stories. Alice would have liked to see what Mary would say then. Certainly, she’d lose some of her self-confidence along with some of her identity.

‘A husband offers identity to a woman,’ Alice thought. She thought of Daniel with fondness. Poor Daniel came home tired to the bones in the evening because he worked hard to provide her with a better life than she’d had before.