MARGARET

MARGARET

Peggy

I adore beyond expression the perfect order of our flat, and the long view over Knightsbridge through our glistening windows, and from our pristine balcony..

Margaux

Antiseptic, this place, like the rub before an injection.

Peggy

When I first met Jack his immaculate grooming made me almost shiver with desire. Handsome as a 1950s film star, and expensively scented (Tom Ford), his wardrobe is a wonder of Jermyn Street tailoring. You’ll understand how comforting this was to me at that stage, after such squalor. I still adore him for it. It makes me feel safe.

Margaux

His fucking tie pin carefully placed just so in its pale blue Tiffany box.

Peggy

The day after he first took me to dinner he made enquiries of my doctor. Fairweather and he had been up at Cambridge together, and he assured Jack I was ‘right as rain’ now. When I see pictures of Jack and me in those days I must admit that, fragile as I felt, I was something of a stunner. We still turn heads.

Margaux

The unguents from Kiehls he pats on after shaving. The bedlinen from Liberty I make sure is washed and pressed every second day.

I admit when I first moved in I was anxious about my cooking. Imagine how Jack would react if he found out I used to eat Poundland beans from the tin when I could be bothered to eat at all? Now I prepare Marco Pierre White’s lobster ravioli with truffle sauce, and Jack often tells me my meals are nearly perfect. You can’t imagine, or perhaps you can, how good it feels to be cared for by someone like Jack.

The tooth whitening trays he sleeps in as often as his exclusive dentist allows, translucently pink like stretched, long-chewed bubble gum.

My husband is as epicurean in bed as elsewhere. I now know precisely what he needs and the response expected of me. It makes the act so virtually effortless I can use the time to schedule other important duties, which gives much satisfaction.

I pleasure myself while he snores. Sad

He uses MAC concealer when he has been working too hard and has dark circles under his lovely eyes. He had to use it on me that once and it blends remarkably well.

Honestly, I’m grateful every day for how presentable she has become, how well she passes in a world which prizes such things. I am in awe of her discipline. But circumstances are becoming untenable. Peggy has always needed my protection.

Jack worries, I know, that I could become ill again; he’s assiduous in ensuring I take the tablets prescribed by nice Dr Fairweather.

Ha. The meds no longer touch me.

********

Last night Jack called me into the bathroom. He was shaking. He’d found one of my cool blonde hairs in his hairbrush. I don’t remember using it. I’m concerned. I sometimes forget things.

Of course it distresses me to fuck with her head. I just want her to wake her up and speak up for herself. But she’s incapable of this. My sweet poor Peggy.

My husband has a discerning palate . The lamb ragout I spent the afternoon preparing was inedible, he said. Could my have mind wandered as I was seasoning it? It was not a good evening.

Poor lamb. Ha.

I’ve been absentminded forever. When they found 'Uncle' Julian prone and bleeding below my window, they asked what he and I had been doing. I couldn’t remember. I was nine. “Away with the fairies”, they said.

*******

News! Fortune has smiled. I feared another gruesome outcome might be necessary, did you?

Jack’s in trouble. He’s been asked not to go into work.

Who’d think immaculate Jack would be a dirty businessman? Oh yes, I can analyse a spreadsheet. I can read invoices. I can open a laptop when a man’s in a lengthy shower.

I am of course allowing him much space, I’m taking myself out of the flat. I have learned it is better to leave Jack alone sometimes.

Yes, some satisfaction might have been had with a more corporeal solution, but while passionate, I am not an unreasonable woman.

He’s occupied much of the time with his legal team. He calls himself a ‘fall guy’. Someone betrayed him. The sums involved were shocking.

She’s safe with me until he’s put away.

*******

Somehow he’s got the idea I was involved. His investigators have found a record of the calls made.. Someone must’ve found a way to channel their calls through my phone. Evil people can do things like that now. How could I do anything to harm my Jack, after he has looked after me so completely, so unwaveringly? “Why should I believe you”, he said. “But darling, darling,why would I do such a terrible thing”, I said, “If you’re taken away from me my life will be over.” Jack is not a man who softens when you cry.

I can’t bear it when she falls apart. I feel responsible. But she might not survive him.

He said, “I gave you this life, Margaret. Your life is mine. But you’re not the girl I thought you were, are you? You’re actually someone else entirely.” I recognised his tone, I’d heard it before. I searched my mind for a way to get out of the bedroom, to leave him to cool down.

The window to the balcony was open. I have form.

*******

I should’ve seen how desperate he was. How ashamed he was of what they were accusing him of. A powerful man like Jack would have no inner resources to live with that, I should've been prepared.

One feels, admittedly, a pleasant surge of adrenaline composing a farewell document on a high-end laptop. Honestly, it needn’t have gone this way. Had he been the least bit human he'd be in a posh minimum security prison, Peggy pining in luxury in her beautiful penthouse. If he hadn’t pushed, I wouldn't have, I swear.

I miss him of course, but surprisingly less than I would’ve predicted. I find I adore more than ever my beautiful flat. I admit I sometimes allow it to get a little messy, and am alright with that too. I’d have thought I’d be lonely, but here’s the strange thing: I don’t feel alone at all.