The Black Widow
Pretty and clever Emily, nearing the end of her studies at the University of London, was in the journalism faculty when she met Edward, a man quite a bit older than herself. Naturally, it was Edward Hughes who first took notice of slim, delicate Emily. Famous in town he composed songs that were quite popular and regularly featured on local radio.
Edward was everyones mate, especially on the local TV network, where he seemed to know every presenter and producer. It was no trouble at all for him to get Emily a job at the station, hosting her own programme after her degree. Not long after, her debut episode aired Heart-to-Heart. She invited a well-known local psychologist and several other guests for a discussion show tackling real-life situations through questions and answers.
Well done, Emily, Edward praised her after watching the show. “That deserves a proper celebration.”
Edward Hughes, forty-five, had been married three times, but his tireless energy and endless list of mates, not to mention his creative lifestyle writing songs, simply didnt fit a conventional family setup. He considered himself almost an eminent composer, always found in restaurants, pubs, and even steam rooms, always with a pint in hand.
As months passed, Emilys popularity grew in her town. She married Edward, and her show drew quite the local audience. She always looked impeccable, dressed with style, unfailingly friendly and polite. She had nothing sinister about her a TV darling, as people said. But clearly, in marrying Edward, she hadnt chosen wisely. She realised this once it became obvious he was perpetually tipsy.
Edward, dont get too big for your boots, his friend Simon once advised him, after Edward tried to belittle Emily while drunk, Shell have you eating out of her hand soon enough.
Nah, Simon, Ive never picked smart wives, Edward retorted, clearly thinking only he had brains, and even gave Emilys cheek a little pinch as they sat in a café.
When he was courting Emily, Edward was all chivalryflowers, gifts, even dedicated two songs to her, listening attentively to her stories. But as soon as she became his wife, his niceties vanished. He barely paid her more attention than to the household cat.
And I foolishly hoped hed help me become a star, Emily thought.
Things turned out otherwise. At uni, shed studied French, which Edward deemed pretty useless.
Learn English, he would nag. You wander abroad like a country bumpkin. Youve got no time for English but plenty for useless gym visits.
After comments like these, Emily stubbornly avoided learning English. That is, until Simon sharp-witted and well-read declared over dinner, English for a distinguished woman is as essential as high heels. The next day, Emily enrolled in a proper language course.
Well, Simon, youve really got my wife goingshes bought textbooks, listens to English lessons in the car instead of music, Edward chuckled.
Edward and Emily lived in a spacious London flat, a legacy from Edwards grandfather, a respected physician. They had a housekeeper, Vera, 43, single, quietly bitter and envious, but an expert at concealing her feelings. Vera knew all their secretsshe was in their flat most of the day, privy to everything.
One morning, Emily woke to find her husband absent from their bedhe had passed out drunk on the sofa in his office again. Emily marched to the kitchen, where Vera held an empty bottle of brandy.
It was full last night. Whatll he have for breakfast?
Just give him some pickle juice, Emily grumbled, heading for the shower.
After seven years with Edward, Emily hadnt had a child; he wasnt keenhe already had a son from his first marriage. Truth be told, Emily was content focusing on her career. After breakfast, she sent Vera in to check on Edward. He was lying face down on the pillow, a vivid red stain under his head.
Emily! Vera cried out. Call an ambulance!
Whats happened?
Ive no idea.
Fifteen minutes later, Emily was racing in the back of an ambulance. From A&E, Edward was whisked to intensive care. Soon after, the doctors delivered grim news:
Its complicated. We cant promise anything.
That evening, they phoned his wife:
Your husband has died.
I I just cant believe it, she whispered, stunned. He wasnt even old. The funeral was a grand affair. Simon made sure everything was just so; crowds cameEdward was well-known. Even at the wake, Simon declared:
Lets not mourn too deeply. Edward lived a full, colourful life and deserves rest at last; now hes entirely free.
He had it all, Emily heard the whispered comments.
At first, Emily struggled to adjust to his absence. The house echoed with silence, gloomy and oppressive. Vera watched her, wary, awaiting news of whether shed be let go. Colleagues, meanwhile, whispered:
Emily, theres no need for you to be down. Youre single, young, freeand quite comfortable financially. Edward had left two decent bank accounts, split between his son and Emily. She was already earning well. Still, she sought company, rarely wanted to be home alone, and often popped to a nearby café.
One day, after filming another show, Emily found herself in that café, sipping a Spanish Rioja, lost in thought. A broad-shouldered man approached, beaming, and politely asked to join her.
May I? She nodded. Sebastian, he introduced himself. She did likewise. Why the long face? Someone so lovely shouldnt be glum.
Just feeling a bit down.
Sebastian, about forty with sandy hair, wasnt classically handsome, his features broad; to Emily, he instantly seemed like a teddy bear, which made her smile.
May I treat you? Wine, cocktail, pastry whatever takes your fancy?
Just a cake, thank you, Emily replied, never much inclined toward sweets.
Despite his rough looks, Sebastian was wonderfully charming, full of funny stories and sharp humour, quickly winning Emilys attention. She spent the evening laughing and felt cheered as he walked her home. They arranged to meet again.
The next morning, she informed Vera:
Ill be handling the house myself: cooking, cleaning. I dont need your help.
But Emily, Ive served you faithfully for years, and youre throwing me out? Where do I go?
Youll find somewhere new, maybe with another family, or even as a caretaker.
Youre sending me packing, Vera teared up, but Ive grown so used to you.
Well, I certainly wouldnt go broke keeping herat least I wont have to scrub windows and toilets myself, thought Emily.
She watched Vera, who was dabbing at her eyes.
All right, Vera, since you insist, you can stay, Emily relented, and Vera cheered up, even pecking her on the cheek.
I loved you and Edwardfelt you were family. Losing Edward was a shock, and now you almost tossed me out.
And so life carried on, albeit now Sebastian (who Emily affectionately called Sebby) became a frequent guest. He adored Emilys beauty. Three months later, they married. Emily insisted on a modest wedding, but for their honeymoon, Sebastian whisked her off to the Maldives. He was well-offa successful businessman.
Emily expected their holiday to be much like her old life with Edwarddirect flight, decent hotel, typical tourist entertainments. But Sebbys idea of a good time was something else. They flew first class; an airport greeter led them to a private yacht. On arrival, they were welcomed as VIPsfireworks, cocktails, traditional dancing.
Their villa was spectacular: four bedrooms, two bathrooms, pool in the garden, private beach.
Good heavens, how much did my teddy bear spend on this? Emily thought.
Shed never asked about his wealth, only knew he was comfortable. Sebby was immensely caring, almost doting, always adjusting her blanket, stroking her hair. He made certain she had a proper breakfast, not just coffee, before heading to work.
Edward was cruel, always cutting me down, boasting he was raising me to his level. Sebby isnt remotely handsome, but he lives for me, always listensand I appreciate that, Emily mused.
Vera was full of praise for Sebastian too, delighted to live with them in his sprawling countryside house. Only one unpleasant shock awaited Emily: she saw Sebastian injecting himself with a fine needle.
Whats that? she asked, alarmed.
Just insulinIve got diabetes. Nothing serious, I live life to the full.
Relaxing in the Maldives, Emily reflected, Have I finally struck lucky?
She enjoyed the luxury, though wondered why she was there with clumsy, pudgy Sebby rather than a surf instructor or blue-eyed tennis coach.
I should put my teddy bear on a diet and get him into the gym.
She raised the subject with him, but he grew quiet:
Ill try, if you want, but my metabolism is a mess. An Adonis just isnt in the cards for me. Im insulin dependent.
Thats fine, never mind, Emily decided.
Back at work post-holiday, she found herself often restless. Will I ever know real love? I dont love my husband What I crave is passion. I wish the man beside me at night were a muscle-bound stunner, not a teddy bear.
Colleagues teased, You never stray from your teddy? Are you really that virtuous?
Truth was, Emily wasnt as straight-laced as they thoughtshe simply didnt want to hurt her kind husband. At the Christmas party, the wine flowed, and her colleague Chris summoned his mate Tom to give her a lift home.
Emily, we can give you a ride, slurred Chris, and she agreed.
Tom settled Emily beside him. Chris, why havent you introduced me to Emily before? he laughed, and she watched him, amazed.
He was gorgeous, driving a luxury car, eyes locked on hers. After dropping Chris home, Tom drove Emily to her place, requested her mobile number, helped her out, then pressed her up against his Range Rover, kissing her deeply. She didnt resistshe liked Toms brute strength and forwardness.
He was a perfect lover. At home, she was gentle with Sebby, but with Tom in his bachelor flat, it was rough, passionate, raw. After, hed just say:
I do like being with you.
Emily and Tom were both content. Sebastian, busy working late, didnt notice a thing. One day, Emily dashed to Toms, already in bed, as he came out from the bathroom ready to undress. A sharp knock at the door interrupteda relentless ring.
Oh, for goodness sake, Ill throttle whoever that is,” Tom cursed, heading for the door.
Emily heard two familiar voices: Toms and her husbands. Terrified, she leapt up, throwing on clothes, just as Sebastian entered the room. It wouldve been easier if hed shouted.
Sebby Sebastian Its not what it seems
Tom stood silent; he could have blocked Sebastian from getting in.
Who gave me away? Emily demanded.
Whats it matter now? I didnt believe itjust had to see, Sebastian replied.
Sebby looked dreadfulpale, sweating, and suddenly collapsed. Emily jumped to check him; his breathing was laboured.
Call an ambulance!
Tom rang for help, while Emily checked her husband’s pockets and found his insulin pen. She knew Sebastian always carried it. She injected him.
That should save him. Hell come round. But he didnt. The paramedics arrived; the doctor declared:
Hes gone.
Emily finally regained her composureTom drove her home. Vera met her.
Emily, you look terriblewhat happened?
Suddenly Emily wondered, Could Vera have snitched on me? She never liked Tom, always asking about him She said nothing, knowing Vera would never admit it.
After the funeral, doctors confirmed Sebastian died of heart failure. A few days later, Sebastians daughter from his first marriage arrived, lawyer in tow, demanding Emily leave the house at once, threatening that any legal action would leave her with nothingno house, no business. She tossed a bulging envelope of cash on the table and gave Emily three days to pack herself and Vera up and leave.
Emily had no desire for a battle over inheritance, so she gave up everything and with Vera moved back to the grand flat left to her by Edward Hughes.
Time passedEmily started healing, with Toms help, although he never proposed. She knew he wasnt husband material but kept seeing him. Then one day, Chris called with grave news:
Emily, please sit down Toms dead. Car crashinstant.
Only then did Emily stop and think.
Why do all my men die? I feel like a black widowit wont be long before people start calling me that. My aura must be deadly.
A little later, she met a young man, James, who came on her show. She sensed he only had eyes for her, and after filming, invited her for coffee.
Yes, all right, she agreed. Time to start living again.
James quickly won her heartEmily felt swept away by happiness.
So this is real love. I cant breathe without James, let alone live. Does loving someone always feel this terrifying?
James was smitten, too. Their time together was light and easy; he was knowledgeable, made her feel at peace. She didnt worry about his history, only knew hed no siblings, just a father he didnt speak to. James lived at her flat for now; she was scheduled for work only in the afternoon. Curious, Emily looked him up on her laptophed never married, no children.
Searching his name, the first link stunned her. Her sweet, ordinary James was listed among the countrys richest men. Emily was flabbergasted; his personal fortune was immense.
I cant believe it, she suddenly burst into hysterical laughter. Well, fancy that! Then anxiety struckwhat if something happened to him, too?
She calmed herself and headed to work. That evening, she tried calling Jameshe didnt pick up. She phoned his office.
Good afternoon, may I speak to James, please?
Whos calling? the secretary asked.
Its Emily
Hes in hospital She gave Emily the details.
Emily rushed to the hospital.
Whats happened to him? she cried on seeing the doctor.
Dont worrynot life-threatening, hell recover. His heart gave him trouble, but everythings under control.
May I see him? Please
Ten minutes, thats fine.
Emily crept into the ward, where James was waiting, smiling. She sat beside him; he took her hands.
Its all going to be fine, I love you. Once Im out, lets get married. Will you?
Well, of course! She kissed him. Weve a whole life and real happiness ahead.
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