Chapter Text
"I love my husband."
Yelena was transfixed by her reflection. She was sat at a vanity, watching the brush flow through her honey-blonde locks. Her hand was set, her arm moving as though of it's own volition. She's rigid and doesn't do anything but brush her hair, doesn't think anything except;
"I love my husband. I love my friends. I love Victory."
She heard stirring behind her. The bed sheets fell to the floor as Jack awoke, standing behind his wife. Looming.
"Morning darling." He had a lilting British accent. It was endearing, Yelena thought. It had to be. When he wasn't around Yelena often tried out accents of her own.
Jack wrapped an arm around her waist, encompassing her as he planted a kiss against her cheek. Then, at the corner of her mouth, then another on her neck. Hands roamed lazily around her body. Yelena smiled and playfully batted him away. He was predictable. Most mornings began with sex. The days ended with them too. However, Jack had specifically told her the previous night that he couldn't be late for work, that it was an important day.
"You've got to go in early today, remember?"
He groaned against her collarbone. "They can do without me for a while."
Yelena lightly pushed him away now. "No, you told me that they couldn't. That you were asked personally by the boss to be in before the others."
Jack caved. He stood up, and slipped on his boxers. "Damn your memory," he muttered.
Yelena set down her hairbrush, and swung around in the chair, bare legs dangling. "You never told me why you've got to be in so early."
"There's a new starter at work," Jack explained, putting on a pair of trousers. "Harry, I think. He'll be our new neighbour, hence why it's my responsibility to show the fellow around early."
Yelena got up to help her husband pick out a shirt. She allowed her fingers to run over his shoulders. "That's good of you, honey." She was looking up at him, wandering fingers getting in the way of him doing up the buttons.
"A minute ago you were practically pushing me out the door. Now you've got that look in your eye." Jack held her face in his hands as though it were a toy.
"I guess I just didn't realise what a kind, neighbourly guy my husband was," Yelena said, voice low.
She was already getting to her knees before Jack was pushing her down. She knew that it was the most efficient choice - quick, clean, satisfactory. Of course, only her husband would get the satisfaction in that sense. Hers would come from knowing she'd pleased him. That was enough. It always was.
-
Yelena stood in the doorway waving off Jack, who kept coming back for more kisses. She was wearing one of his shirts, and nothing else. She didn't mind being so scantily clad in sight of their neighbours, and she knew Jack liked to show her off anyway.
To the right of her was Bunny, waving off her husband, Dean. She gave Yelena a nod, as Bunny's kids ran rampant on the front lawn.
"Can see you've had a better morning than me," Bunny lamented.
Yelena laughed, tossing her hair over her shoulder. She supposed it was a good morning. It was just like every other morning.
"I love my life in Victory," she thought to herself.
As Dean and Jack drove off, a removals van pulled up. Bunny came to join Yelena as the pair of them observed with keen nosiness. Men in green overalls hauled in box after box, furniture and art. No sign of the new occupants, though. The husband, Harry, would be at work, but the obscene amount of shoes and kitchen appliances suggested there was a wife.
"New neighbours, huh?" Bunny said. "Hope the wife is more fun than Margaret."
"Bunny that's not funny. Margaret was . . . troubled."
"Margaret was trouble." Bunny sneaked out a cigarette whilst her kids were preoccupied with the sprinklers. "Last thing we need is trouble in Victory."
-
There was no sign of the wife all day.
Yelena cleaned the house, top to bottom, taking long pauses to stare out the windows trying to get a peek at her new neighbour. Nothing.
At five o'clock, the husbands came home. Yelena stood in the doorway waiting, holding a glass of scotch, wearing a pretty dress she knew she wouldn't be wearing for very long. As Jack's car turned the corner, she spotted a new car in the procession that she didn't recognise. It must have been Harry's.
Her attention was distracted as she watched Harry get out the car first. He was handsome, that much was clear. He was tall and blonde, and had a mustache, which wasn't common among the men of the community. As Yelena eyed him up she caught herself thinking that a man that good-looking must have an equally good-looking wife. It made her toes curl.
Harry came to greet Jack, who had now got out of his car too. The men were friendly with one another, as Jack insisted on introducing Yelena to him.
"She's every bit as gorgeous as you told me she was, Jack," Harry hummed, appreciatively. He looked Yelena up and down, which set Yelena's teeth on edge a little. "Yelena, is it?" She nodded. "Nice to meet you Yelena. I'm Harry Reid."
"Hi, Harry," Yelena beamed. "You two fast friends already?"
The men looked at each other and share a glance, as though revelling in private joke only they understood. "You could say so, yes," Jack nodded. "Harry's great."
"You should meet my wife," Harry said. "She'll need some friends and Jack's told me all about you. I reckon you two will get on like a house on fire." He winked.
"Yes of course. What's her name?"
"Kate. She's a real gem, honestly. You'll love her."
-
Three days had passed and there was still no sighting of Kate. It was driving Yelena crazy. Everyday she woke up, pleased her husband, waved him off, cleaned the house, made him dinner, had sex (an orgasm was the only interchangeable thing about her days), and slept. Waiting to see Kate, this shiny, new object in town, was the only thing that made her days bearable.
The thought was jarring. Her days were bearable, of course they were. She was being dramatic.
"I love my husband. I love my friends. I love Victory."
Except, she must admit she was getting bored. Bored was ok. Bored meant it was her fault, she had to find a way to fix it.
Yelena swung open the cupboard door and plucked a ramekin out. She gave herself a once over in the mirror - put-together, pretty, pleasing - and left her house, marching next door. She faltered for a second as she rose her hand to knock on the door, but persevered. She was making a friend. A new friend. Something their husbands had encouraged. It was fine. She was doing nothing wrong.
That thought was shattered when she met Kate.
The door opened and Yelena let out a little gasp, the ramekin slipping from her grasp and shattering on the ground.
Kate was achingly beautiful, and dripping wet. She was stood in a dressing gown that wasn't quite pulled taut around her so it was drooping slightly over one shoulder, leaving much of her decolletage on display. Her dark hair was soaking, cut bluntly above her shoulders. Her eyes were piercing and her lips were plump and her moles were adorable and -
This was trouble. Kate was trouble.
"Oh no, are you alright?" Kate asked as she knelt down to scoop up the ramekin fragments.
Yelena bent down immediately, still in a state of shock somewhat. She tried her best to compose herself, though it was hard when Kate had started speaking. Her voice was rich and moreish. "Yes, yes I'm alright you just . . . you just startled me," she said, trailing off as Kate met her eyes.
Kate smiled, and Yelena just about melted. "You knocked on my door."
"Yes. I did. I came to ask if I could borrow some sugar."
Kate picked up the last piece of ceramic when she winced. She'd cut herself on the serrated edge. A speck of scarlet bloomed at the tip of her finger. "Shit, I'm clumsy sometimes." She clasped a hand to her mouth. “Shit. I shouldn’t swear. Harry tells me it’s not lady like.”
“It’s refreshing.” Yelena reached out, gently. "Do you mind?" she asked, and Kate gave her hand over willingly. Yelena put Kate's finger between her lips and lightly lapped up the blood. She didn't break eye contact the whole time she sucked Kate's finger. No sooner had the blood appeared, it had disappeared. Kate examined her finger, a blush forming on her cheeks.
"Thank you." The words hitched in her throat.
Yelena collected all the shards in one hand and helped Kate to her feet with the other. "Show me your bin?" Kate led the way inside. The house was very cookie-cutter. It could have been copied from an article on how to decorate your first home. It was also spotless, save for a few boxes in the hallway. "Have I caught you at a bad time?"
Kate shook her head. "Not at all. I just got out the bath and I became distracted. Do you ever sit in your towel after a shower or bath and just stare at the wall? As in stare for so long your brain goes completely blank and before you know it you're dry?"
Yelena laughed. "All the time."
Kate tucked her hair behind her ear. "So no, don't worry, you haven't interrupted anything." She opened the bin for Yelena to throw away the broken ramekin. "I'm Kate.”
"Yelena. Our husbands work together."
"Yes, Harry told me. Said that he thinks we'll become good friends."
"I hope so," Yelena couldn't help but say.
Kate beamed from ear to ear.
-
A garden party had been ordered to welcome the Reid's. It was held on a Saturday, so that the husband's could attend. Jack was particularly excited because Frank, Victory's founder, was hosting. He was a hard man to get an audience with, and Jack had plans to endear himself to Frank in order to gain a promotion. Yelena didn't quite care for this plan, for she saw no need for a promotion. They didn't need more money, they didn't need a bigger house. She suspected the promotion was a self-esteem boost for Jack.
No, she was eager for the garden party because it was a chance to see Kate again. After she'd disastrously introduced herself under the guise of borrowing sugar, Kate had become elusive again, and Yelena hadn't seen her in a couple days.
That morning Jack had woken up first, and chosen a dress for Yelena to wear. It was a pink number, something she couldn't remember every purchasing or wearing before.
The car ride over to the garden party Jack was telling her everything he intended to say to Frank, how he was going to approach the man and shape a conversation.
"Frank will be wanting to meet Kate, so that's where I'll need you, darling," he said.
Yelena frowned. "Why Kate?"
"Frank likes to know everyone in Victory. He's met Jack, of course, now he wants to meet the wife. I want you to be there, so that I can be there."
It was a flimsy plan, but Yelena wasn't going to argue. She wanted to seek out Kate anyway.
-
Kate and Harry were the last to arrive at the garden party. Peg, a friend of Yelena's, muttered something about bad manners, whilst Bunny argued that it was ingenious - they were making a splash entrance.
Yelena thought it was torture waiting.
She was making banal conversation with Peg and Bunny, sipping on gin cocktails that tasted far too watered down. Around them the husbands were stood, hands in their pockets, making equally banal conversation about things the women couldn’t understand. Nobody really knew what the men did with their days - they weren’t permitted to know - and thus when they congregated the wives were ultimately left out. Yelena didn’t mind much, she liked the refuge from Jack sometimes.
“What are the Reid’s like then?” Bunny asked, helping herself to a second cocktail. She enjoyed the garden parties more than most, as it meant the kids were occupied elsewhere.
Yelena’s first instinct was to ramble on about Kate’s ethereality, her voice like whiskey, her warmth. She repressed that, instead choosing a more neutral response. “They seem kind. They’re young.”
“You’re young,” Bunny rolled her eyes.
“I’m thirty. Kate is young.”
“You’re not thirty, darling.”
Jack and the other husbands join them. Helena furrows her brow.
“I am thirty.”
“No, darling, you’re not. You’re twenty-nine.”
“But I remember my thirtieth. You got me this charm - “
“For your twenty-ninth,” Jack pressed. He snaked an arm around her waist. “Trust me, you’re twenty-nine.”
Yelena felt bamboozled. She could have sworn she was thirty, but if her husband says otherwise…
“You should feel lucky, a woman’s peak ripeness is at twenty-nine.” The elusive Frank loomed over them. He was joined by his wife, the intimidatingly beautiful Shelley. They both were impenetrable, unreadable expressions glossed over their perfect exteriors.
Jack laughed, as the other husbands joined in, a chorus of sheep. Yelena found his comment odd, off-putting even, but knew better than to disagree. She would embarrass Jack, embarrass herself. She plastered a smile on instead.
“Ah, right on cue,” Frank said, gesturing towards the garden entrance.
In walked Harry and Kate. Harry looked dashing, in a beige summer suit. He had a smug glint in his eye, as he watched all eyes turn to his wife, who was hanging off of his arm. Kate was a goddess. Wearing a figure-hugging blue dress, her short hair effortlessly coiffed, she stood out amongst the other wives. Sunglasses were perched on her face, her diamond wedding ring glinting in the sun.
Yelena was at a loss for words. A dolled up Kate was no less beautiful than she had been in her robe, scrubbed clean of make-up, yet this was a side to her Yelena had only imagined. A polished version, for everyone to ogle at - and ogle they did. Wives were batting their husband’s arms for staring too long.
“Harry, great to see you,” Frank said, shaking his hand. He turned to Kate and drank her in, slowly. “This must be your marvellous wife I’ve heard so much about. Kate, how wonderful to meet you.”
Kate smiled, as Frank lent in and pecked her cheek. "Yes, I've uh, heard lots about you. Nice to finally meet." She seemed overwhelmed, gripping onto Harry. She met the others in tow, all immediately charmed with her. Jack especially, Yelena noted. It made Yelena’s blood run hot - and she was surprised to realise that she wasn’t bothered by his wandering eye as much as she was by the hungry way in which he looked at Kate.
Yelena reached out and placed a hand on Kate’s arm. “Hi.”
Kate’s lips parted as she took the sunglasses off, eyes wide and beautiful. She smiled and somehow Yelena knew it was her first real smile of the day.
-
Kate and Yelena had been left alone. They were stood on the sidelines, sipping martinis.
“I hate these things,” Yelena sighed. She felt Kate relax next to her.
“I feel like I’m under a microscope,” she admitted, in a hushed voice as though they were being listened to. “Everywhere I turn somebody is looking at me.”
Yelena tilted her head. “You’re the shiny new toy.”
Kate took a swig of her martini. “Is that what you think?”
"I think you're fascinating."
"You barely know me."
"So let me in." Yelena had only just had a taste of Kate, and she was craving more. Craving any morsel the other girl would give.
Kate blinked at her for a while, mulling over her words. She didn't strike Yelena as somebody who thought before they spoke, so she knew whatever she was about to say was weighted. It was important.
"I could do with a real drink. Not this watered down bullshit."
Yelena laughed. Heartily. Maybe it wasn't important, maybe she wasn't going to drop a bombshell, but still Kate had revealed a part of herself to Yelena. She'd sworn, she'd admitted to wanting more, and she'd shown that she wasn't fooled by Victory's luxuries - three things blasphemous in their community.
As Yelena laughed, Kate joined in. She leaned in as the pair clinked their glasses together in a mock toast. Kate was tall, taller still in heels. The height difference was driving Yelena feral.
"I make a real good old fashioned," Yelena offered, once the laughter had died down and the two remained close.
Kate opened her mouth to reply when Harry and Jack appeared. They each grabbed their wife by the waist, pulling them in tightly, as though afraid they would drift away.
"You two are having far too much fun over here," Harry said, a smile on his face that didn't quite meet his eyes.
Jack agreed. "Should we be worried you'll be bad influences on each other?"
Yelena winked at Kate. "Oh, never. We were just swapping flan recipes."
"And the best way to get a red wine stain out of a tie," Kate said, tapping her husband's chest. "Having a nice time, honey?"
Harry eased under Kate's touch, exhaling deeply. "I am," he said. "The people here are great, don't you think?"
Kate turned to observe the crowd, her eyes raking over Yelena second too long. "They are."
-
Yelena's days had been filled with cleaning, cooking, and mindless chatter with other wives. Now, she was consumed by Kate. Her daily routine had shifted, beginning with creating excuses to see Kate and ending with replaying conversations they'd had. Jack was distracted with a big development at work, as was Kate's husband, which worked in their favour.
The women would meet in the morning, seconds after waving off their husbands. They'd run over to each others with a pot of coffee and they'd split the cigarettes Kate had stashed away. Then they would sit and paint their toes, or curl their hair, or drink copious amounts of gin, and talk. Just talk, all day. Yelena discovered that Kate was funny - extremely funny - and told the most elaborate, filthy jokes. She was also very generous and considerate, sharing anything and everything.
Yelena came to life around Kate.
For lunch they would eat leftovers of whatever the other had cooked for dinner the night before. Yelena was the better chef - Kate was rather disastrous. She admitted to not knowing a thing about cooking, and that she'd had only two sets of cutlery and dishes ordered for the house until Harry had scolded her for forgetting about entertaining guests.
After lunch they would often migrate outside, or sometimes frequent the pool. They'd read, or keep talking, or nap. Yelena didn't mind, as long as she was with Kate.
At about four in the afternoon, they'd bid each other goodbye and panic tidy their houses, often throwing something in the oven as they gave the house a once over with a vacuum. They had to have appeared to have been productive whilst their husbands were at work.
Harry and Jack, for the most part, were none the wiser.
-
"I've invited Harry and his wife to dinner tonight," Jack announced as he came home one night. If he'd realised that Yelena had stopped kissing him when he returned from work, he didn't mention it.
Yelena's stomach swooped. "How lovely, darling." She took a quick stock of what food she'd prepared and what she'd need to add or adjust to feed four instead of two.
"Won't you make that apple pie for dessert?"
"Kate doesn't like apples."
Jack stopped in his tracks, tie half off. "You've been spending an awful lot of time with her recently."
Yelena shrugged. "I'm trying to be a good neighbour."
"OK, but don't go neglecting your duties."
Jack's hands appeared at Yelena's waist, and she froze. She could feel him against her, eager and wanting, and she couldn't bear the thought of sex with him at that moment. Sex with him in general, if she was being honest.
He'd began to press wet kisses down her neck, along her shoulders, hands lifting up the hem of her dress. She wasn't sure what to do. She'd never rejected him before.
"Come on, darling, just a quick one," Jack hissed in her ear.
Yelena turned to face him, hands held up. "I don't really have time - "
"We'll make time."
"There's a lot I need to do - "
Jack slammed his hand on the counter top. Something in Yelena snapped.
"Don't you dare," she spat. Her eyes narrowed and her small frame filled with rage. Jack backed away, leaving Yelena heavy breathing.
-
Harry and Kate showed up punctual and with flowers and brandy. Kate handed the flowers over to Yelena as the men fawned over the alcohol. They were violets, Yelena's favourite. She beamed. "Thank you."
Yelena took the flowers into the kitchen in search of a vase. There was a dusty one on the top shelf of the cupboard - Jack hadn't bought her flowers in a long time it seemed. She struggled to reach, so Kate came to her aid. She stood next to Yelena and brought the vase down, all the while Yelena watching. They remained arm to arm as Kate gave her the vase. Kate smelled intoxicating.
"Dinner looks great," Kate said.
Yelena glanced around at the array of roasted vegetables and carved meet and table sauces. She had outdone herself. She'd wanted to impress Kate.
"Jack sprung it on me last minute," she said, trying to appear nonchalant. She needed Kate to know she was just this fucking good.
Kate moved in closer, her arm brushing Yelena's. "Harry keeps going on about Jack. Think he's got a bit of a crush."
Yelena grinned. "We could go and take a plate each and eat outside and they wouldn't realise."
"Can we?" Kate lit up. "Fuck them."
There was a part, a very large part, of Yelena that wanted to do just that. Fuck the husbands, let them starve for all she cared. She wanted to sit under the stars and eat dinner with Kate. Just Kate.
The small part of her, the fuzzy edges around her vision that kept her from thinking too hard about anything, held her in place, and her place was the kitchen. Within Jack's grasp.
"Help me take some plates to the table?"
-
"Your food is excellent," Harry said, amid a mouthful of roast chicken. Yelena politely smiled. The men were at the head of the table, the wives sat opposite each other. Every now and then Kate's feet would tap Yelena's. "You could teach Kate a thing or two."
The men laughed, the women said nothing.
"How old are you again, Kate?" Jack asked.
"Twenty-two."
"You've got time," he said. "Yelena here used to make all our food way too spicy. Took what felt like a year for her to get it right."
Yelena raised an eyebrow. "I like spice."
"Well I don't."
An uncomfortable silence settled around the table. Kate met Yelena's gaze. She sought comfort in Kate's eyes, in her warmth. Living with Jack had made her so cold, and simply being near Kate was thawing her out.
"Kate, what do you make of Victory?" Jack asked, turning his attention elsewhere.
Dabbing her lips with a napkin, Kate took her time. She was mulling over her words, once again a sign she was terrified to say the wrong thing. "I think that it's somewhere completely unlike anywhere else I've ever been."
Harry reached out and grasped his wife's hand. She immediately shrunk into herself. "That's a good thing, right honey," he said. He wasn't asking. "Victory is unique. To be welcome here is, well it's incredible. We're lucky."
"Do you feel like that, darling?"
Yelena leant back in her seat and gazed across at Kate. "Right here, right now, I feel lucky."
-
It was a particularly hot day in Victory. The wives, and their kids, congregated at the pool. It was raucous, leaving Kate and Yelena to find a more secluded seat in the deck chairs nearest the car park. They didn't care. They liked the privacy.
Yelena's heart would still beat erratically out of her chest at the sight of Kate in a two-piece swimsuit. Today she wore a purple option that accentuated just about every feature Kate possessed - legs, stomach, hips, waist, breasts. Every inch of Kate was breathtaking, and it jarred Yelena as it dawned on her that she had never admired her husband like that. Never caught herself slack-jawed sneaking peeks at him as he did menial tasks, or walked around naked in the mornings. Nothing he did stirred this kind of passion in her that Kate did, that Kate in a bikini did, that Kate in her pyjamas did, that Kate in her swankiest party outfit did.
Fuck if she wasn't falling in love.
"Where are you from?" Kate suddenly asked her.
Yelena let her sunglasses fall to the bridge of her nose. "You know this, surely."
Kate shook her head. "No, I don't. We never talk about our life before Victory. We talk about dreams we've had, or funny things we overheard in the salon, or the dumb fucking shit we see our husbands do, but we don't talk about who we were before we moved here."
This took Yelena back. It couldn't be true. Of course they'd talked about their lives. Hadn't they?
"Where am I from, then? What was my maiden name? What did I do before I met Harry?"
Yelena wracked her brain. These should be easy answers. She'd spent every day the last couple of weeks with Kate. She should know this.
Except she didn't.
"Fuck, what have we been talking about?"
Kate sat up straighter. "If I was to ask you where you were from, what your maiden name is, or what you did before you met Jack, could you answer?"
Yelena scoffed. "I know where I was born."
Expectantly, Kate waited. She waited, and waited, whilst Yelena froze. Yelena didn't know. She sat forward in her chair.
"What the fuck."
"I know where Harry was born," Kate said. "I know what his teachers were called, I know what food he liked growing up, I know what his fucking childhood pets were called." She took a shaky breath. "I couldn't tell you a single fucking thing about my childhood, about my parents." She took a cigarette out of their shared pack, and lit it. After one long drag she pulled a disgusted face. "These taste like cardboard, don't they? Harry says he doesn't like me smoking, so I don't smoke, but I always find a pack in the house. Even when I know I haven't bought one. Isn't that strange?"
Their whole conversation was strange. Yelena felt like she'd been roughly awaken from a dream.