Prime Deception by Carys Jones Page B

felt heavy with its connection to Laurie. She was so close to being Lorna that Charles could not help but feel tantalised by her. He wondered what Laurie was doing at that very moment, where she was and who she was with. Was she taking in some more art, or perhaps she had found her way to the Foundling Hospital? Perhaps he should call and enquire about how her day had been. After all, she was a stranger in London and would probably welcome the contact.
    ‘Charles!’ Elaine exclaimed, anger returning to her voice.
    ‘Yes dear?’ he asked innocently, his mind snapping back to reality.
    ‘You can’t even
pretend
to listen to me!’
    ‘I was, I am … I’m just so very tired.’
    ‘Then go and rest. We can discuss the dining room more tomorrow.’
    ‘Indeed.’ Charles kissed his wife gently on her forehead wondering just how much more discussion the dining room’s change of shade warranted.
    Elaine stood in what she felt was a triumph in interior design. She should have been beaming with pride, but her husband’s indifference had soured her mood. When they spoke, she felt as though he were looking through her, not caring for what she said. There had been a time when he held onto her every word for dear life, not wanting to miss a single sentence which she breathed life in to. But for many years Elaine had felt him drawing away from her, growing increasingly attached to his job and his career. She understood the price a woman had to pay for supporting a great man; her mother had taught her that her own needs, wants and desires would come second to his.
    What disturbed Elaine Lloyd most was that she sensed that she was now losing her husband. Not only did he fail to listen, but he appeared unmoved by her angry outbursts. She could not risk losing Charles. Being his wife defined her. Elaine wanted to cry but could not. Her latest botox therapy had welded her face to the point where it was almost impossible to convey emotion. Elaine looked at her hands, beautifully manicured, and felt her hair, styled to perfection, and wondered what more she could do to make her husband notice her? She let her hand fall to her stomach which felt concave and useless, for she knew that the thing which would bind Charles to her forever, she could never possess. Even the house and all her social engagements struggled to fill the gap left by her own infertility. If Charles left, the emptiness would be unbearable.
    The following morning, Elaine awoke earlier than usual in an attempt to surprise her husband with breakfast before he left for work. Normally, she would remain in the comfort of her bed and call out her goodbyes, or sometimes she would be so lost to sleep that she wouldn’t even stir when he left for the day. But Elaine felt that she needed to endear herself further to Charles. He was becoming distant and it was up to her to rectify that. Elaine prided herself on her ability to flawlessly play the dutiful housewife, but clearly her role had been below par for her husband to be so despondent.
    Before the sun had even had chance to creep over the horizon, Elaine was up, dressed, with lips and cheeks coloured rouge, and in her kitchen preparing an omelette.
    The smell of the cooking breakfast danced up the stairs and laced the air around a dozing Charles. He stirred and inhaled, confused by the unusual fragrance. As alluring as the scent was, his hunger refused to be roused, instead replaced by a constant feeling of sickness. Lorna had once again haunted his dreams that night, leaving him with nothing but his own guilt for company. Food was the last thing he wanted.
    Elaine heard the steady footsteps of her husband descending the staircase and so she braced herself for his entrance, quickly adjusting her hair after a rogue strand had fallen loose.
    ‘Good morning dear,’ she exclaimed as he opened the door, a broad smile plastered across her face. Charles squinted at her, a little taken aback by her Stepford wifes