To Kill A Wife
"Tonight I’ll do it!"
This time Gregory was determined he would not fail. He had decided to kill Ellen, his wife, for quite some time now, but his first attempt was a miserable failure. He had then decided to forgive her only to find she really deserved no better.
"Fool! How could I be such a bloody fool! I should have done it!"
He sat motionless in the big armchair, in front of a roaring fire, remembering and cursing himself as tears of' exasperation ran down his flabby cheeks.
"She deserves it! I’ll put it off no longer."
Yet the very thought sent an uncomfortable shiver rushing down his spine. It was such a dreadful thing to do. He doubted if he had to courage to do it, but do it he must. He would no longer excuse her. She had already asked him for a divorce, and that he could never agree to.
Gregory had met her at a house warming party, some ten years before. How time flies, he thought. He could still remember those days when they were madly in love with each other. Often he would wonder what made him go to that party, and every time he would thank his lucky stars he had done so.
Gregory hated crowds, preferring the quiet solitude of his flat, or that unknown restaurant, or even better a solitary walk along some isolated country lane. If the party bored him, it bored Ellen even more. She sat alone, sipping a. John Collins, her lovely blue eyes listless. He was immediately struck by her beauty.
Gregory approached her cautiously but found she was quite easy to talk to. They slipped away from the crowd and chose a quiet place where they could get to know each other better.
She was five years his junior. Slim, young looking and merry of heart, Gregory hardly expected she had been divorced three times already. Edmund, his next door neighbour, warned him: "You'll be the fourth, if you're not careful!" Edmund was quite the man about the town and knew Ellen well.
"Be careful, old boy! You've never been married, and I can tell you, life with a woman like that can be tough! You've steered away from marriage up to now and I’m not sure it's a good thing for you to change your ways. Besides, your ways and hers don't match."
"You seem to know a lot about her, don’t you?" replied Gregory.
Edmund had shrugged his shoulders, but went on: "Let's face it Greg. You love the quiet things in life. Ellen loves the city lights, the attractions, adventure with a capital A. Do you know what really surprised me?"
Gregory declined to answer.
"I can't understand how she left a party to go out with you to some dreary restaurant I am positively sure she doesn't like! However mine is a friendly advice. Don't tell me afterwards I didn’t warn you."
"I was always under the impression that marriage was a give and take business. One day I’ll do as she likes, the next she’ll do as I please." That way he was sure. His marriage with Ellen would succeed, and at first it did. They were madly in love with each other. He was discovering love; she was amused at his inexperience. Life was a bed of roses, thought Gregory.
"You're marvellous, darling," he would compliment her after watching her smash her way at a tennis session, while she would never miss an opportunity to show him how useful he was around the house and did her best to make him happy. He never found her shabbily dressed when he got home, because Ellen was always careful about her general appearance.
In those days, their understanding of each other's need was perfect. They would go for a walk or to a social gathering, laugh at the same things, and lived happily in perfect accord. At night they would make love and afterwards lie contentedly in the darkness. Often they would say to each other it was too good to be true and that the love they felt for each other was very hard to find.
Then Gregory got a promotion and had to work longer hours. Like a cancerous growth, their marriage began to fall apart. Ellen, more often than not alone, was bored and would not stay at home. Many were the times when Gregory came home to find a message hastily written, informing him that his dear wife had left and was to be found at such and such a club.
At first he would shrug off his fatigue and go and join her. He rarely enjoyed these occasions. With time, he began to stay at home and then the little hastily written notes disappeared too. Once in a blue moon he would find her home, looking tired and despondent. On one of these occasions he tried to patch things up only to receive the biggest shock of his life.
"Hello darling! You’re in today?" He wanted to kiss her, but found he could not. He tried to look cheerful, even though she hardly looked at him.
"How about eating out tonight?" Ellen pursed her lips and looked up to him. She could not help noticing the tired eyes, the flabby cheeks and grey thinning hair. Her eyes travelled downwards, along the braces that held up a pair of big round trousers that could no longer be supported by an ordinary belt.
She looked instinctively into a mirror on the sideboard. She was still beautiful. Years had not spoiled her looks or her charms. She would always be thankful for the long patient hours she spent on her make-up; no wrinkles or lines on her face, only the look of a mature woman pleased with herself.
"Shall we or shall we not?" Gregory’s impatience irritated her. "Really Ellen, sometimes you act as if I’m not here. I’m still around you know!"
"But that’s it Greg! You’re never around."
"Please don’t harp. We've exhausted that subject a thousand times?"
"Well, we'll just have to go over it for the one thousandth and one time. Perhaps this time something might register in that thick head of yours."
"Are you picking a fight with me?"
"Listen Greg, I’m fed up. You're always at work. When you come home and I decide to keep you company you still work. You never talk to me, you never take me to those places I like. And if I decide to go by myself I come back only to find you sleeping as if it’s natural for your wife to go gallivanting around town while you stay at home."
"My, my! You are in a bad mood tonight."
"I’m always in a bad mood, and you don’t seem to realise it! I’m bored living with you. Can’t you see that at least."
"You know damned well I’ve got to make a living!"
She shrugged her slim shoulders as she put up a hand to push a wisp of blonde hair under a red cotton band that was wound around her hair.
"All right, tell me what you want."
"I want a divorce."
For a few seconds he could hardly speak with shock. Ellen hesitated too. Then went on. "You can hardly call ours a marriage any longer. We’re no longer in love, and ... and, well I'm in love with someone else."
"You can’t ... you don't mean it!"
"I’m sorry, but I do, Greg."
"Sorry! You certainly don’t look it. Who’s the bastard?"
"Edmund!" He could hardly believe his ears. Edmund the friend who had warned him so much before their marriage. Of course! He saw it all now. While he slaved at the office, Edmund, who preferred jobs that did not tie him to some stuffy office, would pop over to their house or invite Ellen to his.
"I’ll never divorce you!" he cried. "Besides, Edmund is married, or has that little detail escaped your notice!"
"Edmund's already filed his divorce petition. Really Greg, you seem to live in the clouds. I can’t understand why you have to take this attitude."
"Of course! You’ve been through this before, haven’t you? It's just routine for you; but this time you won’t get your divorce. I’ll find the best lawyer of this blasted country even if it breaks my back."
"We'll see. Incompatibility of character ought to do it."
"I’ll kill you first!"
"Don’t be theatrical, Greg. The part doesn't suit you. Really Edmund’s wife is more sensible. Why, she has already found someone else, and she has three children. You won’t have any regrets as far as that is concerned."
"My God, you sicken me. What do you think marriage is? A warm blanket you discard whenever it’s convenient for you?"
"You're so old fashioned Greg! Besides, our blanket has quite cooled off lately, hasn’t it? Come to think of it, you’ve done nothing at all about it! You’ve just taken it for granted you're going to find me under it any time you want. Well you’re wrong, and now I hope you’ll know what it means to leave me alone and bury yourself in your blasted books."
This went on for days. Gregory was determined that he would not agree to divorce her, whilst Ellen was always thinking of leaving him, but somehow putting it off, hoping she might convince him to let her go quietly.
Gregory found this puzzling. Perhaps Edmund did not wish to marry her. That somehow depressed him. Of course Edmund was just the type to have his cake and eat it. He was always well dressed, loud spoken and a flirt. He never ceased to recount the number of conquests that succumbed to his masculine charms.
Gregory had considered him harmless and quite devoted to his wife. Now he burned with a terrible jealousy every time he thought of Ellen resting in her lover's arms, feeling his gentle caress, and the intimacy that now he could never achieve.
Fear, jealousy and anger, all gnawed at his heart until he decided to kill her. He planned the murder step by step. He would wake up in the middle of the night, boil some water, concoct a cup of coffee, put in lots of sugar, and stir in the poison. Then he would make some noise to wake up Ellen and offer her a cup. She would never resist a cup of coffee late at night.
In the morning he would phone the police. He would not be afraid. People might condemn him or pity him. It would not matter. Nothing would matter without Ellen. Unfortunately, his first attempt was a failure. He made a fundamental mistake. Instead of going straight to the kitchen, he went over to her bed and stood, there, staring at her in the, dim light of the bedroom. She was sleeping peacefully, her full breast heaving up and down with the rhythm of her breath. Tears sprung to his eyes.
She looked so lovely. Her sweet lips, slightly parted, were red and lusty, carved into an inviting smile. Suddenly she woke up and saw him. She switched on the light and then pulled him down on to the bed. Her lovely figure was barely visible under her flimsy see-through nightie. He felt his love for her surging up again. He wanted to grab her and have her there and then, whispering savagely in her ears: "I love you, I love you more than all the Edmunds of the world."
He could not do it. Never would he be able to do it again. He felt like an intruder.
"Greg, you’re awake. You look so tired!"
"These last weeks have been terrible for me. I’m sorry I woke you up. Go to sleep."
"No stay here with me. Please Greg! After all I’m as much to blame for all this as you are. Perhaps we should take a holiday. Yes that would be a good idea, don’t you agree?"
He could hardly believe his ears. Was there hope for them? He felt his pulse race, his enthusiasm rise in a crescendo. Ellen urged him on: "A second honeymoon! How about it? Shall we go tomorrow? We’ll begin a new life, and I’ll forget Edmund. I’ll be faithful to you for ever."
"What about the office?"
"Oh forget that dreary office! And anyway they owe it to you to go on a holiday any time you like."
He could hardly break her heart after putting it that way. She seemed the loving wife he had once married.
Ellen had already thought everything out. They would rent a cabin near a mountain lake and in that pleasant place they could find each other once again. There they could go fishing or for long walks and in the evening they could join the other holidaymakers in any social gathering which the organisers of the place held periodically. It would be lovely. Later, much later would take care of itself, she said nudging him gently where it did most good.
Next morning Gregory phoned the office and found and an excuse for taking a fortnight off. They arrived quite late in the evening. The cabin was already prepared for their arrival. Ellen had organised everything in her usual efficient way. The fire burned merrily in the grate. The double bed stood inviting in one corner. Wild flowers tastefully decorated the room, making it look as if something special was to be celebrated there.
Gregory could not help admiring the place. Everything was perfect. He hugged his wife on impulse and she did not resist.
"Darling, are you happy!" She was the loving wife once again. "Look, they’ve prepared our supper. I told them to put it in the cooker to keep warm, and ... oh the fools, they forget the wine!"
"Don’t bother, Ellen. We can do without it!"
"But I do bother. I gave them specific instructions. Thank God I bought half a bottle for such an emergency. Here, you can have a glass now."
"My, my! Specially controlled wine! Where did you get this?"
"Ah, that's my secret! Now I must pop over and buy some more."
"Whatever for? This should be enough."
"No, it's not! Besides I want to make some arrangements for lunch tomorrow."
"Let tomorrow take care of itself! Stay here with me. It’s so cosy here by the fire."
"You naughty old man!" She winked at him. "Don’t worry, I'll be back soon."
She put on her red anorak and left. How thoughtful she is, thought Gregory. He felt elated. It was nice of her to get him the bottle of wine. It seemed quite expensive. Perhaps she still loved him and had been going on with Edmund just to rouse him up. After all he had been neglecting her lately.
The fire warmed the room and brought a happy flush to his face. He sipped the wine contentedly. Suddenly the phone rang.
"Darling, is it you?" It was Edmund. Gregory slammed down the telephone without bothering to reply. The cheat! She was still double crossing him. Why, then, did she propose this trip?
He sat in the big armchair, motionless in front of the big roaring fire, and once again began to deliberate how he could kill her. He would end this nightmare once and for all. He would use his eye lotion. It was marked poison on the label. It was the only way to end a dreary life.
Suddenly he felt hot. The room was unbearably quiet. The monotonous ring of the telephone seemed to come from afar. He tried to get up, but could not. He felt paralysed. Sweat broke out on his brow. His eyelids were heavy as if he wanted very much to sleep. He could not move. His body was rigid.
Then he smelled the gas, and knew what was to come. He tried to shout but could not. The fire crackled on the hearth but he did not hear it. He was living in a world of his own, a world that could collapse in a few minutes. He was sure the verdict would be accidental death.
"It’s not fair", he wanted to cry but his lips were taut and would not move. Silently he screamed.
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