here, what with people coming round tomorrow, she’d still be cracking the whip and making us scrub the joint up. Stupid stuff like picking up all the dog crap or cleaning the windowsills or something. I mean, who the hell looks at other people’s windowsills?’
‘Not me,’ said Emily truthfully, taking a sip of her scotch and avoiding the compulsion to leap up and examine the windowsills now that she knew they were an issue, ‘though maybe we should have cleaned up all the dog stuff. Someone’s bound to step in it.’
‘Whatever. So what do I do? You’re the bloody expert – give me some advice.’
‘Pick it up in the morning?’
‘Not the bloody crap, you idiot! Jill ! What do I do about Jill ?’
‘Hey, there’s no need to yell!’
‘Sorry, sorry.’ Jack held up a hand in apology. ‘I’m just wound up pretty tight about all this. So can you, dear sister-in-law, give me some advice about my wife? Like, what’s she upset about and what can I do about it?’
‘Here’s a novel idea.’ Emily tapped a finger to her head melodramatically and then pointed it at him accusingly. ‘Talk to her!’
‘Talk to her?’
‘Yes! A bit extreme, I know, but you’d be surprised at how many answers you get when you actually ask questions .’
‘Okay, okay – I get the hint.’ Jack gave her a wry smile. ‘But you could still help me know what to ask. Come on, give me a few directions.’
‘Hmm, don’t know about that.’
‘Come on. I’ll make it worth your while.’
‘How’s that?’
‘Another scotch?’
‘Done.’ Emily watched as Jack heaved himself out of the chair and, with a grin at her, picked up her near-empty tumbler and took it out to the kitchen. In an admirably short period of time he had deposited a fresh drink by her side and was back in his chair, waiting expectantly.
‘Come on, spill the beans.’
‘Well . . . I’m not telling you everything she told me, okay?’ Emily frowned at him sternly. ‘That’d be breaking her confidence. I’ll just tell you the highlights.’
‘They’ll do me.’
‘Okay. For starters, if you think we spend a lot of time talking about whether she’s unhappy or not, you’re wrong. The first I heard of it was today – although I must say I wasn’t altogether surprised.’ Emily looked over at Jack apologetically but he just nodded and waited for her to continue. ‘Maybe it’s like a mid-life crisis – you know, when you look around and everything isn’t how you expected it would be. But I think you’re right about this all being a flow-on from Cricket. Not Cricket herself, but her birth, and the job, and everything. And I think she’s just tired. Tired of the kids bickering, tired that they’re such hard work, tired of not having any time to herself, tired of being so needed, and tired of – yes, she did mention it – of you not communicating much.’
‘She said that?’
‘Basically. Not nastily, you know, just sort of – resigned.’
‘Oh.’ Jack lapsed into silence, staring moodily at his drink.
‘But, Jack, seriously, how long has Jill been doing this? The housewife bit, the staying home with kids thing. I mean, when you add it up, it must be nearly twenty years. And then, when she finally starts getting her own life together, she falls pregnant again! No wonder she’s depressed. And I can’t believe you guys never spoke about it.’
‘It wasn’t deliberate,’ Jack said defensively, ‘it just never came up!’
‘Sure,’ Emily replied sarcastically, ‘ that’s understandable.’
‘Let it go, Em – it’s over and done with now.’
‘Very true.’
‘So how bad is it? Do you reckon she needs . . . I don’t know – therapy, or something?’
‘Therapy!’ Emily shrieked with laughter and then looked at him derisively. ‘She doesn’t need therapy, you fool, she needs a rest! Or a life!’
‘She’s got a life! And a bloody good one too.’
‘Says who?’
‘Says me!’
‘Then if it’s so damn
‘Not me,’ said Emily truthfully, taking a sip of her scotch and avoiding the compulsion to leap up and examine the windowsills now that she knew they were an issue, ‘though maybe we should have cleaned up all the dog stuff. Someone’s bound to step in it.’
‘Whatever. So what do I do? You’re the bloody expert – give me some advice.’
‘Pick it up in the morning?’
‘Not the bloody crap, you idiot! Jill ! What do I do about Jill ?’
‘Hey, there’s no need to yell!’
‘Sorry, sorry.’ Jack held up a hand in apology. ‘I’m just wound up pretty tight about all this. So can you, dear sister-in-law, give me some advice about my wife? Like, what’s she upset about and what can I do about it?’
‘Here’s a novel idea.’ Emily tapped a finger to her head melodramatically and then pointed it at him accusingly. ‘Talk to her!’
‘Talk to her?’
‘Yes! A bit extreme, I know, but you’d be surprised at how many answers you get when you actually ask questions .’
‘Okay, okay – I get the hint.’ Jack gave her a wry smile. ‘But you could still help me know what to ask. Come on, give me a few directions.’
‘Hmm, don’t know about that.’
‘Come on. I’ll make it worth your while.’
‘How’s that?’
‘Another scotch?’
‘Done.’ Emily watched as Jack heaved himself out of the chair and, with a grin at her, picked up her near-empty tumbler and took it out to the kitchen. In an admirably short period of time he had deposited a fresh drink by her side and was back in his chair, waiting expectantly.
‘Come on, spill the beans.’
‘Well . . . I’m not telling you everything she told me, okay?’ Emily frowned at him sternly. ‘That’d be breaking her confidence. I’ll just tell you the highlights.’
‘They’ll do me.’
‘Okay. For starters, if you think we spend a lot of time talking about whether she’s unhappy or not, you’re wrong. The first I heard of it was today – although I must say I wasn’t altogether surprised.’ Emily looked over at Jack apologetically but he just nodded and waited for her to continue. ‘Maybe it’s like a mid-life crisis – you know, when you look around and everything isn’t how you expected it would be. But I think you’re right about this all being a flow-on from Cricket. Not Cricket herself, but her birth, and the job, and everything. And I think she’s just tired. Tired of the kids bickering, tired that they’re such hard work, tired of not having any time to herself, tired of being so needed, and tired of – yes, she did mention it – of you not communicating much.’
‘She said that?’
‘Basically. Not nastily, you know, just sort of – resigned.’
‘Oh.’ Jack lapsed into silence, staring moodily at his drink.
‘But, Jack, seriously, how long has Jill been doing this? The housewife bit, the staying home with kids thing. I mean, when you add it up, it must be nearly twenty years. And then, when she finally starts getting her own life together, she falls pregnant again! No wonder she’s depressed. And I can’t believe you guys never spoke about it.’
‘It wasn’t deliberate,’ Jack said defensively, ‘it just never came up!’
‘Sure,’ Emily replied sarcastically, ‘ that’s understandable.’
‘Let it go, Em – it’s over and done with now.’
‘Very true.’
‘So how bad is it? Do you reckon she needs . . . I don’t know – therapy, or something?’
‘Therapy!’ Emily shrieked with laughter and then looked at him derisively. ‘She doesn’t need therapy, you fool, she needs a rest! Or a life!’
‘She’s got a life! And a bloody good one too.’
‘Says who?’
‘Says me!’
‘Then if it’s so damn
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