Jane: part three

”I found her like this when I brought her the mail,” Jane told the police officer. “It’s not my custom to check in on her every minute.”
“Well, Ma’am, it appears she’s been dead for a few hours. I’m so sorry,” he said sympathetically.
Jane’s husband put an arm around her and led her from the room. “It wasn’t your fault,” he murmured. “She had a bad heart. This was bound to happen one of these days.”
Jane and her husband sat on the sofa in her mother’s living room while the coroner dealt with the remains. After the body had been loaded into the hearse for its trip to the morgue, Jane and her husband went up to their second floor apartment. Jane stifled a smile as the weight seemed to lift from her shoulders.
“Shall we order in?” her husband asked.
“Yes, yes. That would be quite nice,” Jane replied. “Can I fix you a drink? I think I need one right about now.”
“Just a beer, love. If there’s one left.”
“Of course,” she said, opening a Carlsberg for him. She pulled a tumbler from the cabinet and filled it halfway with a dose of Glenlivet. The smoky amber liquid warmed her insides on the way down. “So where should we order from?”
“Listen,” he began hesitatingly. “There’s something I wanted to ask you about… Maybe this isn’t the best time… But…”
“Go on, what is it?”
“Well, er… It’s my mother. You know she hasn’t been well. I thought now that the apartment is going to be free…”
The blood roared in her ears and the room spun around her. Every day would be the same. She would wake in the morning with a knot in the pit of her stomach and pretend to be asleep while her husband prepared himself for the workday. Jane swirled the last of the smoky amber liquid around in her glass and drained it in one gulp. Then she stared at her husband and wept.