Chapter Twenty-Five
Dee’s Sunday
Dee awoke with a heart so heavy she didn’t think it would be physically possible to get out of bed. The weight in her chest was like a giant boulder pinning her to the mattress. She closed her eyes again, desperately trying to return to the safe womb of sleep. Right now, all she wanted to do was withdraw from the world. If God stepped out of the clouds and offered her one wish, she’d request He let her snooze soporifically from this world to the next one – a place where nothing hurt.
Dee felt a stab of horror at being reduced to wishing her life away. How dare Josh have done this to this! She was young and healthy, for heaven’s sake. She had her whole life before her – a life she needed to get on and live. However, if Him Upstairs could throw a dollop of joy and a spoonful of love her way, then so much the better. Dee silently raged at herself. She would get out of bed and she would be happy. She swung her legs off the mattress. Hauling herself upright, she promptly burst into tears. Small steps, Dee. Small steps. One out of two isn’t bad. Just remember, you’re not alone. Chrissie and Amber are feeling wretched too.
The three young women had spent last night on Skype, shrieking and sobbing together as they exchanged sordid details about how Madam Rosa’s tarot readings had unfortunately been proven true. Chrissie and Amber had been stunned to hear that Josh had swanned off to Tenerife with a mystery woman by the name of Emma. They’d also been indignant on Dee’s behalf regarding Anne Coventry. How dare the woman accuse Dee of being a harpy who’d nagged her precious son into packing a suitcase! Finally, the girls had gasped at Josh’s manipulation of Dee’s sexy morning fry-up, making out to his parents that it had been more like a scene from a Saw movie.
Likewise, Dee had been aghast as she’d listened to Chrissie blubbing her way through the details of discovering Andrew’s sext message from the enigmatic Mandy. A movie director would have a field day turning their lives into a film for the big screen. However, of the three women, Dee thought it would be Amber who would collect all the drama awards: “Best Actress” for The Saga of the Stained Sheets; “Best Actress in a Supporting Role” for Discovery of a Diamond Earring (the winner being Mr Tomkin for portraying raw terror); and finally “Best Actress in a Leading Role” for How to Empty Your Lover’s Wardrobe in Sixty Seconds.
Dee thanked God for small mercies. Whatever she was going through, and no matter how dreadful she felt, she had two besties who totally empathised. It didn’t make her emotional pain any better, but equally it saved her depression from being a whole heap worse.
She stumbled into the bathroom, caught sight of her pale tear-stained face, and determined that, for now, her priorities had to be both realistic and simplistic – like emptying her bladder, cleaning her teeth, having a shower, and trying to make herself look more presentable. If she was looking better on the outside, perhaps she might feel a smidgen better on the inside. Stepping into the cubicle, she let the hot water blast over her body, unkinking parts of her spine that felt stiff. She wondered if the mysterious Emma was dealing with anything stiff right now.
Whimpering, Dee lathered shampoo all over her scalp. She squeezed her eyes tightly shut trying to blot out the image of an Amazonian blonde riding a panting Josh to orgasm in some swanky hotel in Tenerife.
As Dee scrubbed her skin to the colour of boiled lobster, she speculated on who had paid for this foreign holiday. Josh wasn’t a man to splash cash, which rather led Dee to suspect this other woman had stumped up. In which case, was Emma a rich bitch? What did the cow do for a living? Where did she work? Where did she live? What did she look like? How old was she? How long had she been shagging Josh? Dee’s head began to throb with so many unanswered questions.
Towelling herself off, Dee decided to take some care with her appearance today. It was unlikely Josh would walk in through the front door later but – if by some small miracle he did – she wanted him to be greeted by a chic and sophisticated woman, rather than the Undomestic Dog-ess he’d mentioned in his postcard to Anne and Peter Coventry. That comment had touched a nerve. Dee wanted Josh to look at her with fresh eyes, to be wowed by the attractive woman who had been by his side all the time, and for him to fall at her feet and grovel for forgiveness.
As she blasted the hair dryer over her short hair, she wondered if Emma had a long silky mane. As Dee applied moisturiser to her skin, she pondered whether Emma had tattoos. And as Dee threaded a pair of pretty hooped earrings through her ear lobes, she speculated whether Emma had piercings and, if so, where. Dee could feel herself getting obsessed by this woman. She wanted answers. And now. Suddenly an idea dropped into her brain that had her standing stock still. There was a way to find out the answers to most of her questions. She was amazed she hadn’t thought of it before. However, it would cost money. Possibly a small fortune.
Dee instantly thought of her secret savings account that Josh knew nothing about. Her “wedding” money. She snorted derisively. She’d been saving for an event that was never going to happen in a million years. At least, not with Josh. And then Dee experienced a moment of pure horror as another thought bounced into her brain. It rattled around like a lottery ball. What if Emma wasn’t a dalliance? What if Josh considered himself to be in a serious relationship with Emma? Dee gasped. What if Josh was secretly engaged? That last question was enough to convince her that breaking into her wedding-that-never-was fund would be money well spent. She made her decision there and then.
She was going to hire a detective.