The Wife

Flash Fiction by Charles Roberts

“What do you like most about your wife, sir?”

“What do I like most about my wife?  You mean Susanna?  Yes I suppose you must, as she is the only wife I have….  Mm….  Let me think….  I think her head. Yes, her head, she has one of those intelligent faces.  You know what I mean inspector?  You can sometimes look at someone and instantly know whether or not they are intelligent, some people look as though they couldn’t add two and two together and others….. just…. look…. intelligent, a bit like yourself inspector.  I look at you and instantly know that it is impossible to try and pull the wool over your eyes, even if I wanted to, you would see straight through me.”

“What is it about her head that you like?”

“Well it’s a hundred different things really.  Her hair; the way she does her hair, it’s kind of straight, but curls up at the bottom, but not outward, inward; do you know what I mean.  I don’t know what the cut is called, but it comes down, not too long, above her shoulder, then curls in towards her neck.  Then it comes across from her above her left eye to the right side of her face, it doesn’t cover her right eye, and the right side is cut a little shorter and is swept to the right also.  You must have seen the style, it’s supposed to be all the rage, or was a year or so back, she kept it because she thinks it looks good on her, so do I for that matter, think that it looks good on her.”

“Anything else?”

“Her eyes.”

“What about her eyes sir?  What color were they?”

“They are…. They are brown, but not a dark brown, a sort of a light brown, almost a haze, but not hazel, if you know what I mean.  And she has blonde hair.  You know that is very unusual to have brown eyes with blonde hair, she’s a natural blonde too, she’s never died her hair.  You said, and I quote, ‘what color were they.’  What do you mean by ‘were’?”

“Well your wife is missing sir.”

“Who says that she is missing?  I haven’t called you.  What makes you think that she is missing?”

“We received a call from one of your neighbors’ s……”

“Ahh…..  Say no more…  You know….  They know more about what goes on in this house than we do, or they think they do.  I can’t even hang the washing out without being watched.  Every time we leave the house someone is watching us, it could make you paranoid if you were that way inclined.  We just ignore them and get on with our lives.”

“You hang the washing out sir?”

“Oh yes!  We do everything together, well not exactly together, but we share the jobs around the house.  I do the washing and the washing up, well fill and empty the dishwasher, she does the ironing, I’m hopeless at that, she hoovers whilst I dust, but we alternate, I sometimes do the hoovering while she dusts.  There’s no set duty pattern.  We do everything together, the shopping, gardening, cleaning etc.”

“You’ve been seen digging in your garden at night.  What were you doing?  Who were you burying?”

“Ha!  Do you know that if you sow you onion and leek seeds on a full moon they germinate better and grow quicker?  So I go out into the garden at four o’clock in the morning and sow my onion and leek seeds when there is a full moon.  Just what do the fools think that I’m doing at that time in the morning?”

“Burying your wife?”

“Really!  Burying my wife.  Burying Susanna!  Well I never.  The only body you’ll find in that garden, inspector, is the one of our cat.  She was old and had a cancer in the neck, so we did the best thing and put her out of her misery, well the vet did, and we brought her home.  The grave is marked if you want to look.”

“What else did you like about your wife’s head?”

“Her nose.”

“Her nose?”

“Yes it is perfect.  Fits her face beautifully.  You know some people’s noses don’t fit their face, they seem to… seem to… stand out; I… I… I don’t mean that they are too big, or… or… ugly…, they… they just don’t seem to fit the face somehow.  Do you know what I mean?  They don’t look as though they belong to that particular face.  No it isn’t long, or turned up at the end like a ski jump, or hooked; no it is the perfect size and shape for her beautiful face.  I suppose if I had to categorize it then it is more like a button, the end I mean, sort of round and… and… perfect.  Her mouth is small and slightly turned up at the corners, that’s if a mouth can have corners.  Why should I hurt my wife inspector?  To hurt Susanna?  The woman I love.”

“I don’t know sir.  You were having an affair and she found out that you were cheating on her.  She was having an affair and you found out that she was cheating on you.  Money problems.”

“That inspector, is ludicrous, either of having an affair.  We love each other.  She is my best friend and I hers.  Why would either of us have an affair when we have the relationship we have?  You really are clutching at straws inspector.”

“I am simply doing my job sir, as best I can.  One of your neighbors contacted us to say that your wife hasn’t been seen for a few days, so I am here to ascertain her where-a-bouts, or whether she is still alive or not.”

“Have you thought that she may have gone to her parents?  That she could be away on business, which she occasionally does.  I just wish these nosy parkers would look to their own lives and leave others to get on with theirs.  I think that we’ll sell up and move to the country away from neighbors, especially the nosy variety.”

“One last question sir.  I am going to be blunt, and I would like a straight and truthful answer.”

“Go ahead inspector.  I’ll be as truthful as I possibly can.  I’ve already said that I couldn’t possibly pull the wool over your eyes.”

“Where is your wife?”

“You keep asking where my wife is inspector, you’ve told me that the neighbors say that they haven’t seen her for some time, but that doesn’t mean that she is missing.  I know exactly where Susanna is inspector.”

“Where is she sir?”

“In the cellar.  In the freezer to be exact.”

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Bio: Charles Roberts started writing plays in two thousand and eight; he has had twenty plays published. He wrote his first children’s book in twenty thirteen and has written twenty seven books in total, mostly children’s books.
He has been writing short stories for about five years on most subjects.
He is seventy three years young and moved to Spain for health reasons in two thousand and five.

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