Lette - How to kill your husband (and other handy household hints)

Lette, Kathy, 1958

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KATHY LETTE

All women want to kill their husbandssome of the time. Where theres a will,

I wanna be in it, wives half-joke toeach other. Marriage, it would appear,is a fun-packed frivolous hobby, onlyoccasionally resulting in death.

But when Jazz Jardine is arrested for herhusbands murder, the joke falls flat.

Life should begin at 40 - not lifeimprisonment for killing your spouse.

Jazz, stay-at-home mum and domesticgoddess; Hannah, childless career woman;and Cassie, demented working mother,are three ordinary women. Their recordcollections are classical, not criminal.

Cassie and Hannah set out to prove theirbest friends innocence, uncoveringbetrayal, adultery, plot twists, thinnerthighs and toy boys aplenty en route. Butwill their friendship survive these everdarker revelations?

Sexy, funny and wise, Kathy Lettesirresistible new novel is about women notHaving It All but Doing It All. Its abouthow todays mother is often a marriedlone parent. Its about the fact that nowoman has ever shot her husband whilehe was vacuuming. This is Kathy Letteat her brilliant best, casting her trademarkcaustic eye on what goes on in thebedrooms and kitchens of ordinary marriedcouples. A novel which will strike a chordwith women everywhere and ensure that,from now on, we all read the small printon our marriage licences.

12.99

Also by Kathy Lette

DEAD SEXYNIP N TUCKALTAR EGOMAD COWSFOETAL ATTRACTIONTHE LLAMA PARLOURGIRLS NIGHT OUTHIT AND MS

PUBERTY BLUES (co-author)

To my mum and dad who are celebratingtheir 50* wedding anniversary this year,proving that a good marriage lasts forever,while a bad one just seems to.

Digitized by the Internet Archivein 2018 with funding fromKahle/Austin Foundation

https://archive.0rg/details/howtokillyourhusOOOOIett

PART ONE

1 The Merry Widow 3

2 How Do I Hate Thee^ Let Me Count the Ways 13

3 The Hand A Modern Gothic Horror Story 35

4 Is There Life After Infidelity? 43

5 If He Wants Breakfast in Bed, Tell Him to Sleep

in the Kitchen 59

6 The Working Mothers Week or Where the Hells

Your Father.^ 71

7 Ladies Who Lynch 95

8 To Love, Hoover and Obey 113

PART TWO

9 Dont Get Mad, Get Bad 125

10 The Reason I Dont Tell You When Im Having

an Orgasm Is Because Youre Never There 137

11 The Three Muffkateers 145

PART THREE

12 Genitalia Failure 153

13 Unhappily Ever After 171

14 The Sensual Interactive Surprise 181

15 High Infidelity 187

16 Wet Adulteresses of NWl 193

17 Till Homicide Do Us Part 203

18 Survival of the Prettiest 211

19 Pm Having My Period So Can Therefore

Legally Kill You 225

20 When Humiliating Things Happen to Desperate

Women 235

PART POUR

21 Underachievers Anonymous 249

22 ToyBoysRUs 265

23 You Are Going to Enjoy This Marriage Even

If I Have to Divorce You to Do So 271

24 The Comeuppance 281

PART FIVE

25 Where Theres a Will, I Wanna Be In It 291

26 The Househusband 305

27 How To Kill Your Husband (and other

handy household hints) 315

PART ONE

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I was a forty-three-year-old mother of two when I lost myorgasm. How can you lose an orgasm, you may ask. What is it, asock'l Is it in some sexual laundry basket waiting to be paired so itcan become a multiple orgasm? People often lose things. Theirtempers. Their sense of humour. Their figures. (Do the wordscontrol top panty hose mean anything to you?) Their minds.(Post babies, definitely.) But not their orgasm. I just couldnt find it.It was more elusive than Peter Pans shadow. Believe me, I lookedfor it harder than they looked for the Bermuda Triangle, AmeliaEarhart, the Yeti, the Mane Celeste, the Loch Ness Monster and thescruples of George Bush.

Perhaps you think that I, Cassie OCarroll, am the kind ofidiot who always misplaces things? It is true to say that I cant findthe square root of the hypotenuse either, but that doesnt makeme gnaw holes in my pillow and cry myself to sleep at night.

No. My poor muffs in a huff. My pussy left high and dry:

positively Miss Havishamed. And there doesn t seem to be agoddamn thing I can do about it.

Mind you, my best friend, Jazz, has lost something much moreserious - her husband, the internationally famous surgeon,humanitarian and World Health Organisation expert. Dr DavidStudlands. And under rather suspicious circumstances too. Infact, as I write this. Jazz is being held on suspicion of murder.Which is where this story begins really, in the visiting room ofHolloway Prison for women in North London.

Ive been arrested for killing my husband, were not words Idever expected to hear from the mouth of Jasmine Jardine. Imhaving George Clooneys lovechild, perhaps, or, What if PMT isa myth and Im just a bitch? But definitely not this.

When I can finally talk, I feel Im dubbing a film. 'WhatV

Murder... Those moronic cops think Ive killed Studz. Ivebeen denied bail!

MURDER? I dub again. And there is a made-for-TV moviemelodrama to it all. Im sitting bolt upright in a straight-backedchair in a prison visiting room, staring in a state of gormlessastonishment at my best friend. I must have shrieked the lastword because the eyes of the prison officer dart over at me, alertbut neutral, like the eyes of an over-fed predator, too lazy topounce. The screw remains slumped in her swivel chair, flickingher newspaper, surly but apathetic.

Fright licks like flames all over me. Fuck-a-duck, Jazz. Imwhispering now, but it still sounds piercing. You... didnt doanything stupid, did you?