This is the conclusion of a three-part fictional story. Parts 1 and 2 are available on www.freshstartpress.com in the archive.
On a sunny day in July, Jane met Sophie for lunch in Yorkville. Sitting on their favourite patio with glasses of white wine, she broached the topic on her agenda.
“Sophie, how are things going with Ray? You appear to be crazy about each other,” said Jane.
“Well, nice of you to notice. We are madly in love!”
“Now that you’re living together, how are you managing expenses? Does he contribute?” asked Jane.
“My sex life with George was mechanical in comparison. Ray is always gentle and innovative and concerned about my pleasure.”
“How many of Ray’s family and friends have you met? What kind of people are they?”
“It sounds as though you are looking down on him just because he wasn’t born into our social class. Rich people can be obnoxious and snooty, you know,” said Sophie. “Ray’s the most considerate guy I’ve ever known.”
“I’m just nervous, that’s all. Last time the four of us were together, Ray boasted to Dave how much he’s won by online gambling. Just be sure that he doesn’t start gambling with your money.”
“Ray treats me like a queen. Let’s get the bill.” She’d had enough probing questions.
Three months prior to a June trip to Eyguières, Ray took her cross-country skiing and paused in a thicket of trees. Getting down on one knee in the snow, he proposed to Sophie, and she enthusiastically
accepted. How touching that he proposed on the second anniversary of the day we met, she thought. Few men would remember that date.
He suggested, “Let’s get married in that sweet little church on Eyguières’ rue principale. Just the two
of us, with only neighbours Pierre and Mireille as witnesses.”
“That sounds so romantic! What a lovely idea. Let’s keep it a secret,” she replied. “Can you find out what we need in the way of a marriage license?”
The wedding was basically an elopement – along the lines of the June 1937 wedding of the Duke and Duchess of Windsor that also took place in France. Ray produced a diamond eternity ring; she bought him a wide white-gold band. The only photographers and celebrants were their next-door neighbours who’d signed the register. In the few photos that were taken, the couple are smiling broadly with their arms around each other. Which cannot be said of the Duke and Duchess’s photographs.
Six months later the frequency and passion of their lovemaking was on the wane, due to either their
advancing ages of 63 and 75, or the emotional chill that had seeped into their union. To be frank, all the time they’d been together Ray had taken Viagra and watched porn to prepare to have sex with her.
The bodily changes faced by every woman over 70 began to disgust her younger lover – varicose veins,
wrinkled skin on arms and legs, and sagging breasts. The fact that she began heading to bed early and sleeping in late suited him just fine. He could stop pretending that she turned him on and began sleeping in the guest room.
Sophie’s personality was changing dramatically. First Ray noticed that she’d have trouble searching for
a word when discussing a topic in any depth. Then she’d repeat an incident within a conversation, ask him the same question over and over, and lose things. This normally self-confident woman grew anxious over minutiae. She took ages deciding what to wear and ending up wearing nearly the identical outfit day after day. He took to slipping her grubby clothes into the hamper when she wasn’t looking.
She invented excuses to cancel social plans and became quiet and remote most of the time. This happened over a period of only five months. All laughter and little in-jokes vanished.
As she drifted away, Ray became irritable and drank more heavily. Never calling friends or neighbours
for assistance, he just soldiered on, morphing from loving husband to fulltime caregiver. Confusing him with her late husband, she would begin recollections, “George, didn’t we have fun that time when…” Ray played along to keep her calm.
He took Sophie to her doctor, who arranged brain imaging tests. Diagnosis was Alzheimer’s Disease. He
took this result to a psychiatrist friend of his, who agreed Ray should have Power of Attorney for Property and Care for his wife. Being completely dependent on him for her day-to-day activities, she signed the legal document without complaint. In fact, she expressed relief when her handsome, attentive young husband was taking charge.
His spirits lifted. Ray took great pleasure in reviewing their investments and net worth. Now, nothing could hinder their lavish lifestyle.
He hired two new staff who’d never met Sophie and hid her in a back bedroom whenever they were on
site. Figuring that long-term-care facilities need to restrain wandering dementia patients, Ray bought a device to tie her into bed. Also online, he bought meds claiming to prevent anxiety and aid sleep which he crushed into her food.
Every second day a chef brought groceries to prepare meals; a cleaner made his bed, did laundry, and
kept the house clean. They provided services, collected generous compensation, and left.
Sophie no longer used email or cell phone, gave up all reading and writing, and passed her days watching television or sleeping. She lived in her nightie and housecoat getting thinner and frailer by the day.
Charming, slick Ray deflected all her friends’ attempts to reach her. “Oh, Ray and I are in Provence
(Scottsdale, Jamaica, New Zealand, etc.)” he’d type in an email or text. Thanks to electronic devices, it’s easy to hide one’s actual location from a correspondent. He always kept her wallet and phone on his person and could respond in an instant, pretending to be Sophie.
One day, the doorbell rang repeatedly. Looking though a peephole, he recognized Jane. Without
answering the door, he heard Sophie’s closest friend yell, “The jig is up, Ray. I know you’re in there and holding Sophie prisoner. You’ve abducted her. I’ll be back with the police!”
When police arrived with a search warrant, he let them in and showed them documents laid out on the dining room table: marriage certificate, Power of Attorney, Sophie’s will. Ray had complete, legal control of Sophie’s Property and Care.
After George’s death, she’d drawn up a new will specifying several charities and godchildren as beneficiaries. Ray legally removed them all to make himself the sole beneficiary. A done deal.
Author's Note
After hearing that a McGill friend’s lifestyle and wealth have been stolen by a sociopath, I felt compelled to invent this cautionary tale.
Martha Stout, Ph.D., is a clinical psychologist who taught at Harvard Medical School for 25 years. In 2005 she published The Sociopath Next Door: The Ruthless Versus the Rest of Us in which she describes documented characteristics of sociopaths.
“One of the more frequently observed of these traits is the glib and superficial charm that allows the true sociopath to seduce other people, figuratively or literally – a kind of glow or charisma that, initially, can make the sociopath seem more charming or more interesting than most of the normal people around him. He or she is more spontaneous, or more intense…or sexier.”
Stout explains “behavioral manifestations of what is for most of us an unfathomable psychological condition, the absence of our essential seventh sense – conscience. Crazy, and frightening – and real, in about 4 percent of the population.”
She writes “the best clue is, of all things, the pity play. The most reliable sign, the most universal behavior of unscrupulous people is not directed, as one might imagine, at our fearfulness. It is, perversely, an appeal to our sympathy.”
That’s why, in my story, Ray seeks pity from Sophie more than once.
I hereby announce my summer break from publishing on FreshStartPress.com. Upon my return in the fall, you will again receive essays on alternate Saturdays. Wishing you a relaxing, regenerative summer!
PB